Published: Jan 10, 2024

My seventy-eighth caption.

You had never gotten along with your Aunt after your parents died. Years later, she is still trying to reconnect with you, sending you various, strange presents…

(On a more meta note, this is partially based on one of my IRL aunts, who gives out cheap, crappy cologne to all her nephews each Christmas, me included.)

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All image credits go to their respective artists. I have and never will claim ownership over any image I've used or modified for a caption, and I always encourage you to check out the artist and their wider body of work when possible.

You hated getting these stupid presents from your Aunt on the west coast. Having grown up raised by her since your parents died in a car accident, you never particularly cared for the woman and her… quirks. She styled herself something of a “modern-day witch”, and had tried multiple times while you were growing up to make you interested in her odd hobbies. As soon as you had gotten old enough, you got a part-time job and moved out, paying your own way through business school and eventually landing a nice, cushy job in New York City at a reputable company. Despite all your attempts to distance yourself from your upbringing, your Aunt Lydia always managed to find out your new addresses, sending you odd gifts related to her hobbies. Scripts she had written, “potions”, and other odd hippy shit you couldn’t care less about. You always ended up throwing that junk out, not even looking at the cards she’d sent you too. It was nonsense, and you would have thought moving across the country would get the message across to her.

Sighing as you picked up another package with her address written on it, you brought it into your cozy, modern apartment, dumping it down on your dinner table without much of a thought. You had nearly forgotten about it over the next two hours too, only remembering it was there when you went to your door to pick up the Lombardi's pepperoni pizza you had ordered to mark the end of your week. Putting your pizza down on the table, you decided to open the package Lydia had sent you, wanting to get it out of the way before indulging in your unhealthy little pie. Slicing the tape and opening the box, you discovered, much to your surprise, that it wasn’t one of her usual, odd presents, but an expensive bottle of La Beauté en Gras, a very expensive cologne from France. Opening the smaller box, thinking she might have simply put something else in one of their boxes, you were surprised to see it was indeed the cologne in a curved crystal bottle. You couldn’t believe that Aunt Lydia had actually sent you something normal for once after all these years, especially something as expensive as this. Reaching into the box again, you found one of her letters, deciding to open it this time rather than throw it away.

“Greetings again, my nephew. I hope this letter finds you well. I’ve been… thinking about a few things these last few months. At my age, you become more introspective, thinking about ways you could have done things differently. I realized I failed to connect with you the way my dear sister was, and for that I’m deeply sorry. I never meant to drive you off, or to make you uncomfortable. I only wanted to teach you other ways of looking at the world, to have an honest, fulfilling life. I only hope you might consider reconnecting with an old, lonely woman, one who watched you grow from an imaginative 8-year old to who you are now. Hopefully, the contents of this package will bring us closer together, to rekindle what we’ve lost. You only need to take the first step, young one. -Lydia” The letter read, handwritten and marked at the end with her signature.

Though you could tell that your Aunt was waxing poetic at certain points of the letter, it felt far more genuine and sincere than some of the letters from the past few years. Even you had to admit, she was getting quite old now, being in her seventies at this point. Still, you had to think about what she said, maybe consider shooting her a call another day. For now, you took the bottle of La Beauté en Gras and put it on your bathroom sink, knowing you’d certainly use it for the party you’d be attending the next night.

After spending your Saturday mostly being lazy, either exercising or watching HBO, you began to prepare yourself for the party that you’d be attending tonight. It was being hosted by one of your higher-up work buddies, and you were well aware that there were likely to be a lot of partners, clients, and of course, pretty women there. You had picked out your suit, a nice black two-piece, hanging it out on your closet door before hopping in the shower. After drying off, it didn’t take long to start cleaning yourself up in the mirror, making sure to shave your stubble, trim your nose hairs, and other forms of personal grooming. Finally, you turned your attention to the La Beauté en Gras bottle.

Removing the cap and pressing down on the spray head, you were shocked when the top of the bottle suddenly burst open with a surprising amount of force, engulfing you in a misty, purple-colored cloud. It was as if a smoke grenade had just gone off in your bathroom. Dropping the bottle into the sink, you fell down to your knees as you choked and wheezed on the cloud around you, trying and failing to find the door handle to get out. As you coughed, you felt your throat tighten, your tone of voice getting higher than normal as a rolling pain coursed through your body. It was almost as if you had just received a gut punch that could be felt all over your body equally. After a few more seconds of struggling on the floor, the cloud began to dissipate, allowing you to finally see and breathe. Still feeling that tightness in your throat, you pulled yourself back up to the counter, suddenly coming face-to-face with a beautiful woman’s visage instead. Thinking for a moment it was someone somehow peering through the mirror, you pulled back in shock, only for the woman’s face to follow both in movement and expression. Realizing you were looking at a reflection, you finally looked down, seeing two large breasts.

I shrieked in my new, feminine voice, grabbing both breasts in my hands and squeezing, surprised at how sensitive they were now. Tweaking one of my nipples, I let out an involuntary, girly moan as pleasure shot up through my whole body, making me far… warmer than I had been previously. Suddenly realizing the implications of all this, I slowly dragged my hands together down my thin, toned belly, eventually reaching my crotch to confirm my worst fears. My manhood was gone, completely. In its place was a woman’s soft, warm lips. Just brushing my fingers along its entrance felt like a small electrical charge was being sent to my brain, but I resisted the urge to put a finger inside.

Walking out of the bathroom, I began to notice a few things were different. For one, all of the clothes in my closet had changed. Gone were all my expensive suits and dress pants, they had all been replaced with cocktail dresses, power suits, and a few other articles of clothing I couldn’t name off the top of my head. Some of my other personal items had changed too, including the sudden abundance of Aunt Lydia’s old “presents” I had thrown out before, sitting neatly on top of my dresser. Knowing she obviously must have had something to do with this, likely trapping that stupid bottle of cologne with one of her “potions”, I pulled open the dresser and tried to find something a bit more normal to wear, even finding my T-shirts missing. I started putting on one of the dresses, the one that hid the most skin. The bra took a while to figure out with its stupid little hooks, but at least the matching panties were easy to get on. I got even more frustrated when I realized the dress was meant to show off my shoulders, and that it was meant to be worn with a thin black choker. Swallowing my pride, I put it on, turning my attention to the pantyhose. After rolling them up and pulling, they went on rather easy.

Now looking like a proper bombshell, I practiced walking for a bit in high heels, never once questioning exactly why I was bothering to wear these heels or these clothes. I made my way back to the dinner table, picking up the note to look for Lydia’s phone number, only to see that what she had written was gone, replaced with a whole new message.

“I’m so happy you’ve taken the first step, my niece! I was afraid of how you might react to this sudden change, but I know you’ll come to understand why I had to take these… admittedly drastic measures. You must understand, as the sole living heir of our bloodline, you are the only one capable of carrying on the teachings of our coven. I never lied when I told you your mother and I were witches, young one. It might seem confusing now, but you’ll quickly shift into this new life, effortlessly controlling men and women alike through our arcane talents. I will arrive in a few days to begin your training in earnest, but until then, enjoy yourself at the party! There should be some nice young men there.”

As I finished reading and put down the note, part of you knew you should have felt anger and betrayal, having had your life thrown into disarray like this, but as I stood there in my new skin, the pleasures of being a woman became more and more apparent. If Auntie Lydia really was this powerful, I wondered what I might be able to do too…