Aunt Karen

Tommy nervously adjusted his sunglasses, trying to hide the anger boiling inside him over everything that was happening. The wind played unusually with the thin fabric of the dress, sending a cool breeze over his bare thighs. His gaze dropped down to the short dress with a tiny pink pattern, something that looked more like it belonged in a children’s clothing section. The frilly edges only made the whole thing feel even more absurd.

— I look like... a faggot, — Tommy muttered irritably, but the words came out in the same high, melodic voice. He froze, as if hearing his own voice made it even worse. His hands reached for the dark sunglasses again, as if they could shield him from this entire world.

— You look adorable, — she said with a mocking glance, biting the temple of her sunglasses and barely holding back a laugh. But the moment her eyes returned to Tommy, her smile vanished, and she added with cold sternness, adjusting the lapels of her beige blazer. Her tone was the kind you’d use to scold a misbehaving child. — And remember once and for all, girls don’t talk like that.

Tommy gritted his teeth, cursing her silently while taking a deep breath. They had only met two days ago at a bar — just a regular night when Tommy decided it would be easy to pick up this confident, slightly arrogant woman. She had seemed a bit full of herself, which only fueled his competitive drive. He turned on his full "charm" that evening, which only seemed to annoy Karen more. And it worked — or so he thought. She had unexpectedly smiled after one of his "killer lines," as if surrendering. "Fine, let’s go to my place and see what you’ve got." Tommy remembered how his ego soared to the skies. She offered him a drink, but her tone felt strange... expectant. Just minutes after the glass of wine, he felt dizzy. The room spun, and his body began to feel like it was melting.

When he woke up, everything was different. His legs were longer and thinner, his chest heavy, and soft waves of hair cascaded down his back. He had screamed, but the only sound that escaped was a frightened, feminine squeal. Karen, standing nearby, looked absolutely pleased. "Get used to it, sweetie," she had said with a smirk.

Now, he stood in the middle of the street, suffering from the pinching ballet flats and the humiliating stares of passersby.

— Karen, when are you gonna change me back? I already... put on all this crap, — Tommy whined, but the musical quality of his own voice made him freeze again, like someone had hit pause. He glanced around, noticing two men walking past. One of them snorted, while the other gave his legs a slow, appraising look. Tommy felt his cheeks burn.

Karen lazily adjusted her hair, her lips curling into a smug smile.

— Aunt Karen, Melissa, what did I say about your manners!? — she snapped, emphasizing the new name with a wide smile as if to mock him further. — If you want to get back into your ripped jeans and have your tiny dick restored, you’ll have to earn it, Melissa. — Karen stressed the name once more, as if sealing it in the air. — Now smile. You’re here to help me with shopping. Aunt Karen doesn’t tolerate rudeness.

She playfully slapped his noticeably rounder butt, making Tommy spin around, his face flushing deeper with humiliation.

— What the hell are you doing?! — he hissed, his eyes flashing behind the dark lenses.

Karen’s stern face met his furious glare, her voice lowering to a quiet warning.

— Aunt Karen. How many times do I have to repeat myself?

Tommy glared at her, slightly hunching his shoulders and furrowing his brows before growling through clenched teeth:

— What are you doing, A-u-n-t K-a-r-e-n?

Karen’s face lit up with a smile at that, as if nothing had happened. She shifted her gaze forward and gestured gracefully toward a nearby café with a bright sign and a cozy terrace.

— There, Melissa. Cheer me up with your smile. I’m sure you’ll love it.

Tommy wanted to argue, but Karen’s cold, sharp stare cut him off before he could. Her seriousness was like iron, and he could feel that any disobedience would only make his situation worse. Grinding his teeth in anger, he headed toward the café, hearing her mocking voice behind him:

— That’s more like it, princess!

...

The soft chime of the doorbell and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee greeted them as they entered the café. Karen inhaled the scent with pleasure, while Tommy tried to avoid eye contact with the staff, feeling like he was on display. It seemed like every customer was turning to stare at his delicate figure, soft waves of blonde hair, and that ridiculous frilly dress.

— Sit here, sweetie, — Karen gestured to a table by the window. — I’ll be right back. Don’t miss me too much.

— Wait, ugh, Aunt... Karen... — Tommy began, lifting his gaze from the floor, but Karen was already disappearing behind the door marked "Ladies," ignoring him completely.

As soon as she left, a man entered the café — mid-thirties, tall, broad-shouldered, with a cocky grin plastered on his face. He scanned the room before his eyes landed on "Melissa." His gaze lingered on Tommy for a few seconds before he confidently made his way over, as if personally invited.

— Hey there, — he said with a smug smile, dropping into the seat across from Tommy without asking. — All alone?

Tommy froze. It felt like time stopped. Every muscle in his body tensed, and a dry lump formed in his throat. It was so strange — he suddenly felt small and fragile compared to this guy, even though the man was just slightly above average height.

— U-uh... — he stammered in a soft, girlish voice that sounded painfully uncertain.

The man’s gaze never left Tommy’s cleavage, and with an even wider grin, he added:

— What’s wrong, doll? Lost? Or waiting for Prince Charming?

Tommy felt heat rising to his face, but it wasn’t embarrassment. It was a mix of burning rage and... fear. His fingers dug into the edge of the table, his eyes flashing with panic.

— No, — he managed to choke out, trying to keep his voice cold, but it still sounded too soft, too... "cute."

— Why so tense? — The man leaned closer, invading his personal space even more. — Relax, I’m just being friendly. How about a drink?

Tommy grimaced, his irritation mounting.

— Listen, — he snapped, struggling to keep his composure, — I don’t need anything, got it? So back off.

The man didn’t budge. In fact, his smirk widened. Casually, he snapped his fingers, calling over a waiter without even glancing at Tommy.

— Hey, buddy, — he said to the approaching waiter, — get this cutie something... sweet, yeah? Maybe a strawberry milkshake or whatever girls like.

Tommy felt his face burning again, this time with pure humiliation. He wanted to protest, to jump up, to throw some sharp retort — but the mix of shame and fear kept him frozen. His grip on the table tightened as the waiter looked between the grinning man and Tommy, clearly unsure what was happening.

— Uh... miss? Do you actually... want a milkshake? — the waiter asked hesitantly.

Tommy opened his mouth to speak, but the asshole cut him off again:

— Of course she does! She’s just shy, aren’t you, sweetheart? — The man leaned in even closer, practically breathing in his face, clearly enjoying every second.

At that moment, the bathroom door swung open, and Karen returned. Her eyes immediately locked onto the scene. Her expression turned icy.

— Melissa, what’s going on here?

Karen stood with her arms crossed, her gaze sharp enough to pierce glass. The smug man flinched slightly, as if just realizing he was in trouble.

— Uh, I was just... trying to be friendly, — he mumbled, standing up and awkwardly stuffing his hands in his pockets. — Just... buying her a drink...

— Really? — Karen took a slow step forward, heels clicking sharply against the tiles. — Buying attention from a sweet, defenseless girl with a milkshake? Or were you just checking if she’s "old enough" to hit on?

Tommy felt like the floor had vanished beneath him. His stomach knotted with shame and helplessness. "Sweet, defenseless girl? Is she serious? God, this is so humiliating..." His cheeks were on fire, and the heat only worsened as curious glances from the other customers seemed to bore into him.

The man opened his mouth, probably to fire back, but then hesitated. Casting one last glance at Tommy — and even blowing a mocking kiss — he shrugged and muttered under his breath:

— What a bitch...

Then he turned and left.

Tommy exhaled shakily, tension draining from his body, only to be replaced by a burning sense of embarrassment. He lowered his head, trying to avoid the stares he was sure were still lingering.

— Jesus, Karen, that was awful! He... he just... — His voice cracked again, and he bit his lip in frustration, gripping the edge of the table tighter.

Karen’s gaze dropped to him, her brows arching in that dangerous way of hers as a tight, thin smile curved her lips.

— What did you just say, sweetie? — Her voice was soft, but the threat underneath was unmistakable.

Tommy froze, realizing his mistake. His gaze lifted hesitantly, meeting her cold, unyielding stare.

— I... Aunt Karen... — he muttered, his throat tightening with shame.

— That’s better, — she smiled wider, but the warmth never reached her eyes. — See how clever you can be when you try?

She crossed her arms again, tilting her head.

— Now remind me, what was so "awful" exactly? Some guy gave you a compliment? Offered to buy you a drink? He was acting just like you that night. Don’t pretend you don’t get it, Melissa.

Tommy flinched, his lips pressing into a tight line, but Karen wasn’t finished.

— Felt uncomfortable, didn’t you? — she continued, watching him closely. — That feeling... when someone treats you like a doll instead of a person? Remember it, Melissa. It’s important.

— But I... I wasn’t... — he began weakly, but her fingers suddenly tilted his chin up, forcing him to meet her gaze again.

— No buts, sweetie. — Her voice was void of sympathy. — You acted like a real asshole, and now I’m just giving you the chance to feel it yourself.

She released his chin and leaned back, pretending to study the menu again.

— Now pick something, sweetie. You did want that cute lavender latte, right?

Tommy clenched his teeth, face burning, and reached for the menu with trembling fingers, knowing full well that arguing would get him nowhere.