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Question: Story: Write me a story the way I type about 5 year old Brandon living with his 40 year old aunt Anna due to his mom and dad being in jail because of their drug addictions. Anna being his mom's older sister wasn't much better than his mom was in the fact she had an alcohol abuse problem. Being stuck in her addiction for over 19 years, it showed no signs of slowing down. Anna had her long brown hair messy and unkempt along with her dull hazel eyes often wearing puke-stained and alcohol-stained clothes and sticky and wet shoes as she slept on every surface of the house at some point. Anna still had a love for Brandon she couldn't completely ignore however. Tonight, Brandon was watching TV sitting on the floor as the couch was drenched in his aunt's sweat as well as some fresh wine stains. It was nearly midnight and Brandon felt his stomach growling reminding him he was hungry. Brandon attempted to grab a chair and cook his own dinner but he wasn't completely sure how to use the oven. Brandon reluctantly decided he would have to go upstairs and ask his aunt Anna to come down and help him. Walking upstairs, Brandon remembered where the wet spots were and avoided them as he reached the top. Brandon stood outside his aunt's bedroom door already hearing the sound of her snoring. He trembled as he knocked hoping to wake her up but no matter how hard he tried, she wouldn't respond. Opening the door, his nose was hit with strong nasty smells of all kinds causing him to almost puke in disgust. His eyes darted over to a half drank bottle of wine on his aunt's bedside table. Brandon stepped closer to his aunt's bed and started attempting to shake her awake but she wouldn't respond. Giving up, Brandon decided to go back downstairs and try and make his own dinner again. Not paying attention, he accidentally slipped causing his feet to stumble into a pair of black strappy leather platform sandals his aunt often wore. He scrunched his nose at the sight of his tiny feet in the sandals thinking about big and bulky and girly they looked. His feet also instantly got drenched in whatever wet liquid happened to be soaked into the platforms. Removing the sandals, Brandon attempted to leave. Please have Brandon say the quote "Ew, auntie's shoe's are too big and girly. Get them off" Before he could leave, his feet slowly started growing and aging into Anna's complete with her pedicure. Grossed out, Brandon panicked trying to wake up his aunt shaking her even harder than before. Please have Brandon say the quote "Auntie! Wake up! I'm becoming a girl. I don't wanna be a girl!" crying as he couldn't stop the changes. The changes accelerated as his legs, arms, body and head slowly feminized as he gained the manicure on his fingers to match the pedicure and his hair turned brown and messy and unkempt and his eyes turned hazel and dull and his voice deepened to match his aunt Anna's. His outfit turning into a black bra and panties which were soaked in sweat and wine stains. Brandon took one step in his new body feeling awkward with his new feminine features when he suddenly noticed his aunt dissolving into a mist from her bed before disappearing completely. Making Brandon realize he was becoming his aunt's replacement. His memories started changing slowly. A small part of him hoped he would become a better person than Anna was. Suddenly, his memories started showing visions of him as Anna drinking heavily, puking and passing out in inappropriate places. His heart sinking with the realization that he was becoming the same alcoholic Anna was. His memories then completely altered until he only remembered himself as Anna. The new Anna was dizzy and confused as she looked around her bedroom before looking down at her bra and panties. She sat down on the floor sitting in a puddle of her sweat. As she looked down, she flashed back to the night the sweat puddle came from and shrugged it off as if it was no big deal. She crawled over to her bed grabbing her bottle of wine opening it up and chugging it down before finishing it. Anna couldn't hold it in as she puked all over her bed and all over herself before half attempting to brush the vomit off herself. She spotted her platform sandals on the floor in her room and grabbed them. They were still soaked and sticky from previous wine nights and puking sessions but Anna no longer cared as she slipped her feet into the massive platform sandals. Standing in front of the mirror, Anna did drunk poses having trouble balancing in the platforms. She then sat on the edge of her bed and crossed her legs before flipping her messy hair and strutting clumsily. Suddenly, her eyes darted down at her feet and fear and confusion grew in her heart. Please have Anna say the quote "Whose platform sandals are these? Oh wait, they're mine. These are my platform sandals. So comfortable" in a drunken breathy tone before beginning to laugh feeling the urge to vomit once again. Anna had briefly forgotten where she was and what she was doing do to the excess amount of wine she had consumed that day even causing her to forget about the platform sandals belonging to her. She then came across a men's pair of boxers in her room and picked them up off the ground smiling. Anna remembered the man these belonged to and how she ran into him at the bar and brought him home one night while her nephew was sleeping. She knew she would probably never see the man again but she certainly wouldn't forget what the man had done for her as she smiled and tucked the boxers in a safe spot. Please have Anna say the quote "He was so handsome and so sexy. And he really knew how to treat a lady" in an unnaturally coherent way compared to the other thoughts Anna was having at the moment. Anna stumbled down the stairs before laying down in the kitchen. She opened the fridge and pulled out some lunch meat and made herself a sandwich eating it in front of the fridge with the fridge door still open. Anna then struggled to hold onto the counter as she opened the cupboard door and grabbed an unopened bottle of wine. Popping the cork open, she chugged the wine until it was completely empty and fell on the ground dropping the wine bottle. Anna crawled out to the living room accidentally losing her platform sandals in the process. Anna crawled grabbing her platform sandals and managing to put one of them back on. Her mind growing too cloudy as she grabbed the other one and put that one back on too. Anna suddenly noticed the sandals were damp and smelly. Please have Anna say the quote "What the hell? Why are my sandals so damp?" Anna pulled one of her platforms off and smelled it instantly remembering that she fell asleep with a glass of Chardonnay in her hand that she spilled all over her feet one night while she was wearing her platforms. Putting the sandal back on feeling much more relaxed about their wetness, Anna thought about her nephew Brandon before deciding to call him downstairs. Please have Anna say the quote "Why am I downstairs? Maybe my nephew can help auntie Anna get off the floor" with her platform sandals still on her feet passing out having no memory of being the very nephew she was calling and having no memory of wanting to be a better woman than the real Anna.
In a neglected corner of the city, lived a young kid named Brandon. At just five years of age, he had already experienced more adversity than some experience in a lifetime. Brandon was currently living with his Aunt Anna, his Mom's elder sister. His parents were incarcerated due to their drug addictions, leaving Anna to become his sole caretaker, although she herself was neck-deep in her issues, particularly alcohol abuse spanning over almost two decades. Anna, gaunt and unkempt, often wore clothes stained with regurgitated alcohol and various other discolored liquids. Her long, brown hair was a tangled mess, and her eyes, a dull shade of hazel. All this physical disarray reflected the chaos in her life, her addiction sadly showing no signs of subsiding. However, despite this rickety life, Anna had a corner of her heart for Brandon. One late-night, as midnight approached, Brandon sat on the floor, flipping through channels on the TV. The couch was a no-go, reeking of Anna's drenched sweat and recent wine spills. A growl in his stomach reminded Brandon that he hadn't eaten dinner yet. He pushed a chair towards the kitchen to attempt to cook; however, he realized that switching on the oven was beyond his knowledge. Begrudgingly, he decided to wake Anna to help him out. Swiftly evading the trickling spots on the stairs that he had mentally mapped out, Brandon managed to reach Anna's room. He could already hear her snoring. He timidly knocked, then knocked louder, but Anna remained unresponsive. "Cautiously, I will try to wake her," he murmured to himself, bracing himself for the familiar strong odors in the room. Among them, Brandon spotted a half-drunk bottle of wine by Anna's bed. He tried shaking his aunt awake, anxiety fluttering in his chest. He carefully reached out, then reluctantly touched her shoulder, attempting to rouse her. But all his efforts were futile. Unsuccessful, he left the room, vowing to face the stove's challenge. As he was about to exit, he slipped into a pair of Anna’s black platform sandals that were lying haphazardly on the floor. A shiver rippled through him as his feet were soaked in a mysterious sticky liquid from the shoes. "Ew, auntie's shoes are too big and girly. Get them off!" he exclaimed. Then suddenly, as if struck by a magic spell, his small feet began growing, slowly but disturbingly matching Anna's size, even her pedicure. Panic surged through him; his heart thumped louder as he sprinted back to Anna's room. "Auntie! Wake up! I'm becoming a girl. I don't want to be a girl!" He cried, shaking Anna desperately, but she showed no signs of waking. Dread fully set in as he felt his entire body slowly transforming. His hair grew longer, messier, and brown; his arms and legs lengthened, hair vanishing from them; his body shrunk into a petite frame; his voice grew huskier; and he found himself dressed in stained black bra and panties. He looked in the mirror and gasped. His eyes were hazel, and dull. The whirlwind of transformations ended as abruptly as they had begun, with Brandon, or rather, Anna, standing in the middle of the room. The confusion in her heart was echoed in her eyes. "Whose platform sandals are these?" she mumbled in a drunken breathy tone. Then she giggled and looked down, "Oh wait, they're mine. These are my platform sandals. So comfortable." This new Anna, now completely engrossed in her memories of her past life as an alcoholic, miraculously finished an entire bottle of wine as if it was water, before spewing it out on the floor and then poorly attempting to clean it. She found herself drawn towards the platform sandals, recalling how comfortable they felt. No longer caring about the dampness and smell, she slipped them back on. Once again stumbling downstairs, she found herself sprawled on the kitchen floor, a sandwich in hand, and an empty wine bottle next to her. She struggled to gain balance, her head spinning. The remaining pair of her platform sandals lay on the floor next to her. "What the hell? Why are my sandals so damp?" she slurred. Remembering Brandon, Anna thought about calling him downstairs to help her up. "Why am I downstairs? Maybe my nephew can help Auntie Anna get off the floor," she muttered. She lay down again, enjoying the coolness of the floor, the world suddenly spinning, the platform sandals still on her feet. She fell into a deep sleep, forgetting in her drunkenness that she once was Brandon, with dreams of becoming a better woman than Anna ever was. Now, she was Anna, with all her abyssal details; a bitter juxtaposition of hope and grim reality.
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