Picture by ankkoyom

"Hot pink or pastel pink," Amelia asked the mirror on her vanity as she hovered her delicate hand over you and presumably another man. You quivered in fear, unable to move even a millimeter to escape this terrible fate. Ever since she had turned you into a tube of neon pink lipstick, you had done nothing but watch as more men, and the occasional woman, were lured into the room by Amelia before she reduced them down to makeup or accessories. You could always remember the look on their face of terror before it faded away into whatever they were becoming. She'd then collect the new products from the floor and place them on the desk next to her other victims.

You assumed that everyone prior to your addition felt the same way when Amelia had gotten her claws into you. You were obviously blinded by what was in your pants as the cute girl pulled your arm into her bedroom. Obviously, you never expected her to be a witch and for her to cast magic on you, changing your body to something more useful for her. Your face, a mask of horror, was frozen as you were unable to move. The mirror behind the smiling Amelia showed your skin turning a blinding pink as your clothes morphed into a black cylinder to encase your new body. An indescribable feeling of your body becoming one homogenous stick of wax and pigments washed over you as the cap to your new prison sealed you within it.

You felt yourself clatter to the hardwood floor, and a giggle from your tormentor, who picked you up. The light from her room blinded you when she removed the cap and admired your color. "Your soul makes a very pretty pink," she told you, as if that would somehow make the situation you were in any less traumatic. She sat in her chair and twisted the bottom of your case, pushing your wedge-shaped body further out. With practiced precision, she ran your body across her soft lips, leaving a trail of your new form on top of them. She popped her mouth a few times and evaluated her work. Seemingly satisfied, she closed you back up and put you on the desk.

A few months went by, only broken up by the occasional use of your deteriorating body, before she lost your cap. You could feel yourself slowly drying out over time without your lid, but the ability to see around the room was a godsend, at least until you realized you could watch as Amelia kidnapped more and more souls. Today, you watched your girlfriend, or rather ex-girlfriend, enter her room sobbing. Amelia was comforting the girl as she talked about how much she missed you, but Amelia could only smirk. Your heart stung as you watched your love was reduced to mascara and placed next to you, unaware just how close she had been to uncovering the truth.

Impressed by her work, Amelia applied your girlfriend to her eyelashes and then had to decide on lipstick. You weren't sure if she even still remembered which product you were, but she picked you up after deciding that hot pink would go better with her new mascara. She pushed you against her lips, but you refused to glide, cracking instead. "Shoot," Amelia said as she looked at your crumbling form, "Guess I should've found that cap." Then, without remorse, tossed you into the trash can and grabbed a different color.