I guess the best thing to do is, like all stories, start at the beginning.
On a blustery cool summer's day in 1995 I was born to my mother and father a bouncing baby boy on September 1st after, and she never lets me forget, ten hours of labor. They named me Markus James Williams.
For my young years I was a typical normal boy. Played with cars, destroyed toy trucks and wore out the knees of every pair of pants I owned. Mom never really forgave me those knees. She was forever fixing the knees with patches.
Most of my younger school pictures had me in pants with patches on the knees and a missing tooth in the front. My hair was kept short for easy of convenience. I was quite happy and followed my dad around when I could.
The old man had married my mom when he was getting on it age. He was in his late thirties and she was barely twenty if my math is correct. They met fell in love and two years later my older sister Shelly was born. I'm not entirely sure they were married or not at the time, that's always a little vague in the telling.
My dad's passions were old snowmobiles and golf. Yeah I know snowmobiles, but as he put it, it was something he could tear down and rebuild in a short time. He finished quite a few machines and sold them at these little meets where other old farts with a passion for killing their backs on machines with no suspensions would get together and trade parts, some new some not, stories of bygone eras, and of course machines.
That was his hobbies. He worked as a computer programmer of sorts. Not really clear on that either since his real work was protecting people like mom, from other people like mom. It was how he got killed in 2002.
You see magic is real. No not that mumbo jumbo crap with wands and cloaks and stuff. More like you uhmmm skip that I'll tell that later. Anyways in short Mom is a witch of sorts, although she prefers the term magic controller. Or if I must use, her words not mine, old terms sorceress. Good at instant cast spells. Not so good at mundane defense. My dad was a martial artist and had been since he was like ten or something.
Mom had gone to his self defense class to try to learn how to defend herself, totally against grans wishes I might add. Gran is this uber magic controller that doesn't even have an old term for it. She is of the belief that Mom should have worked harder to learn to use magic to defend herself.
I should mention that Mom's spells are at best cantrips of a sort. Boil water, minor healing of cuts and bruises. Little things like that. Kinda a disappointment for gran. Now my sister Missy, also my older sister, has all the signs of being something like gran. Yeah gran is tickled pink over it.
Anyways mom and dad met doing self defense stuff. Dated for awhile and then fell in love. Dad didn't take the whole witch thing too well at first. Gran almost turned him into a newt or something but mom went to bat for him. But after a week of feeling like hell he saw her again. Mom says he was openly crying when he saw her. I find it hard to believe. Dad never cried a single day in his whole life as far as I could tell.
Still they had the three of us so they had to have gotten along. When Dad was around our house, which was paid off by him four years after they bought it, it was home. I remember those first few months after he died, it was like the house slowly died with him. Not that anything fell apart or anything but it was like Mom didn't want to lift a finger.
Not that us kids were any better at the time. Shelly was a wreck and Missy was in a rebellion phase going goth, boy did that piss off gran. Me? I was like seven years old and couldn't quite grasp the whole dad is dead thing. It took me awhile and when it hit me it was like a ton of bricks. I didn't talk for days and only ate what I was forced too. Even then it took me a week to cry even after the funeral.
Like I said the house kinda died. It went from Home to just a house. Gran insisted we move back to her place but mom refused. So she came and stayed with us. I think the only reason we kids didn't starve at the time was because she was feeding us. Not that it was the greatest food. Gran has a taste problem and her cooking is little better than cardboard.
Mom simply refused to do any type of magic anymore. Her and gran got into some huge arguments over it. Shelly and Missy were put under Gran's tutelage in that regard. Oh yeah that..
Okay magic is kind of an energy of sorts. Different bloodlines have different affinities for it. In some only women can work it, think putty. In others both men and women. And yes there is bloodlines where only men can work it but there is problems with them half the time.
Anyways this magical energy putty can be molded to do certian stuff. Fix a wound, change a person's shape. things like that. It doesn't work to well on inanimate objects. You can't use it to fix a car mechanical problem but you can fix a paint scratch or a seat tear with it. Dent's? ehhh depends on the dent. Rust you can slow down but you can't stop it.
No you can't go through time and do stuff. It's been tried and it's not pretty to say the least. Weather can be controlled but there is problems with that. Having a nice sunny day here causes a hurricane somewhere else. That and it really ticks off the other users really darn fast.
For the most part magic is used to fix people's ailments, cleverly hidden as potions and herb compresses. Move things around the house, gran has a magic vacuum that appears and vacuums any spills, which is like totally neat. Move faster than normal, flying brooms or just floating around is seriously frowned upon now. I guess with so many cameras, videos, and air traffic monitoring it's bad idea. But you can move fast if you need too. Fog is a good one if you want to avoid cops too.
So yeah I grew up knowing magic was real and had a pretty good idea how it was supposed to work and what to not do. However since I was a boy, with no real magic ability showing up as a child, I was left to play with my toys. I had toys, not computer games, as a kid. Action figures, cars, trucks, tractors. Yes tractors, specifically dad had gotten me a collection of John Deere die cast farm toys.
My sisters got My little ponies and stuff when they were growing up. Missy still watches reruns of Sabrina the Teenage Witch from time to time. I got to watch every Disney Princess Movie growing up whether I wanted too or not. I still prefer Justice League, Batman, Xmen myself. Not too many of the Xmen reruns though.
I played, did my schoolwork, ate and slept. Not a big life really. It doesn't really change all that much as a boy. Did birthdays and Christmas, although when Dad died that side of the family seems to have all but disowned us. Mom and Dad had us all Baptized as kids, I think it was more to piss off gran than anything else since we only went to church maybe once a year. Gran is a wiccan, big surprise.
I was happy, really happy as a kid, after dad died though things were not so happy. Don't get me wrong it wasn't bad bad. Just not the same when he was around. The sleds and parts got sold to one guy who offered to buy it all. All of dad's little sheds, which in case your wondering were little more than closed lean toos for covering sleds made out of plywood and pallets, got emptied out. I used two of them to make a fort for myself to get away from the house full of estrogen I was stuck living in.
After the old man passed away it was not a surprise to see bra's and panties hanging to dry, when I woke up in the morning, in the bathroom I shared with my sisters. I just did my thing and that was that. Never once did I even get the urge to touch the darn things.
All that changed though one day. I was on my way to school when I spotted this bag on the side of the road. No biggie really but I heard a mew from it. I should have left the dang thing alone but I didn't. When I looked in the bag there was this tiny kitten, half starved and weak, in it who's mew was just pathetic.
Deck was a tiny white and black matted ball of fur, perhaps three weeks old if that. I called her Deck since she has this spot on her forehead that kinda looks like a Spade, Club, Diamond or Heart depending on how you rub it. Really it's kind of a neat blob of black. It reminded me of a deck of cards hence the name. I brought her home, totally forgetting about school, and sat there on the floor of the kitchen where I made her drink a bowl of milk and some canned tuna.
At first she didn't want to drink or eat. Gran was the one who told me to push her face into the milk. Buy burying her nose into the milk she inhaled some of it and realized what it was. Then she started to, tentatively at first, drink. She threw it up but drank some more.
I washed her with a hand towel and just water, rubbing her fur backwards to warm her up. After a day or two she got better. Gran made me take her to the vet, I actually cried thinking we were there to have her put down. I was happy when we found out she was just malnourished but seemed otherwise fine. The vet lady was quite happy I had saved the cute ball of fur. Deck got her first shots at the time. If she wasn't so tired she probably would have told everyone just how much she hates that.
I think it was about 2 weeks later that Deck stopped sleeping and eating when she started to move around. I was happy in a way. She had her box in my room where she had slept as a kitten. Gran said it would help her cause as kittens most mother cats are put in cardboard boxes with their litter and blankets. When she was better Deck started to sneak under my bedcovers. I guess it was to get warm or something. Gran though it was cute. Decks tiny sharp claws on the other hand were not.
I should mention something. Our family has a tradition of sorts. The women usually get a familiar. For gran it was a more traditional black crow. Mom has a gold fish, don't laugh it's true, the vet has wondered how it has survived all these years. Shelly has a humming bird for a familiar. And Missy has a fat bird. I really don't know what it is. She overfed it as a chick and it has stayed fat. It can fly, and as her former ex boyfriend found out, poop really darn well. The window of his precious car was covered.
Mom's is called, no surprise she got it when she was 12, Goldie. Shelly's is Flutty. Missy calls her's Hawk. It's not a hawk but she calls her that anyways. Oh yes all familiars are female too. Gran calls hers Mac for some reason. Familiars kinda share a witch's life. Somehow they use a portion of the witches brain for themselves. In a way they also spy for them too. Which explains why mom always knew who did what at the Christmas tree. Their claim that their familiars talked back to them made me believe they were nuts for the longest time.
Then there was Deck.
At first I didn't notice much really. Deck would be pissed off and vocally meow if I left her outside a closed door. She found her voice after I brought her in to get fixed when she was 6 months old. There was just no way I was gonna deal with a kitten that wanted to point her ass in my face every other month.
Then she started with peeing on anything I left on the floor. If I didn't want cat pee on stuff I had to keep my floor clean. If I didn't put my laundry away she would sit on it and get it full of fur. Same with my bed, if it wasn't made she would shed fur all over the bedsheets. She shed on the covers anyways but you don't sleep in covers. I was a slob and she didn't like it. After two months my bedroom was kept clean and neat.
Yeah I didn't really notice, it was just something I did. One morning Deck dropped a pair of panties on my head. I didn't know whose they were and stomped into the kitchen with them in hand. I still don't know where they came from as it wasn't any of my sister's or my moms. Gran was back home by then. Mom had gotten this job at a garden center place.
Every other morning Deck would present me with a new pair of panties, which I would just toss into the laundry basket. Mom did the laundry and she just washed them then brought them back as if it was normal. I still don't get how she could do that. Something weird there.
What I didn't notice was that my drawer full of underwear was slowly changing from my usual guy y fronts to panties. I should mention that the panties where not all nylon and frills type but just simple cotton panties with a tiny bow on the front. Really without the bow they could pass as boys underwear minus the y front.
The one morning I had little choice but to put on a pair of black ones. They felt okay, not exciting or anything. Not really all that different from my other underwear. Junior had no place to inconveniently pop out of so I didn't mind them.
After a month had gone by with me wearing nothing but panties, Deck plopped a camisole on me one morning. Needless to say but after a month all my under shirts were gone and replaced with cami's. Again mom just washed them and thought nothing off it. Funny thing is nobody in school noticed them either.
When my chest started to itch badly Deck brought me bras. They helped and I wore them after she complained a few times, Deck not mom. The necks of my outer t shirts got lower a bit at a time and my jeans tighter. I though I was just growing. Well I was but not in the way I thought.
Deck didn't care for my buzz cut at all the one time I got one. She peed all over my keyboard. I got a computer to do school stuff on, no games but searching the internet or for book reports things like that. She only managed to ruin the keyboard and not the computer itself. I just left it grow out after that.
One day I came home to find my bed cover totally ruined. Apparently she didn't like my old John Deere bedcover. Having a house full of women my replacement was a frilly thing. It had pillow covers that matched. I got used to them and Deck purred with contentment every night for weeks.
Deck didn't like my dress shoes or running shoes much either, okay there were old ones that I wore when not in gym class. They got replaced with, now these shoes are hard to describe since I don't have a name for them. They are not a regular shoe. Almost but not quite a men's dress shoe but not a womens pair of flats. More than flats but less than a mens shoe without laces. They seemed okay and didn't scream girl so I wore them.
I got used to getting up in the morning, putting on a pair of my bra and panties with a cami over top, throwing on a pair of tight jeans and a top whose neckline seemed to be just above where my cami's lace was. When my socks disappeared I just went without.
I never though I was growing breasts even though my bras were always holding me tight. Nobody bought me new ones or anything. As far as I was concerned they were the same ones as always. Get up get ready and go to school.
I only really noticed when occasionally someone would call me Mel. At first it was once or twice in a month so I didn't really notice. However it was at Christmas that I really noticed that people were calling me Mel a bit too much. At Christmas I recieved a makeup kit and a skirt from Grandma. Mom told me to put on the skirt as if it was the most normal thing for me to do. I refused.
The makeup and skirt sat in the bottom of my closet for awhile before Deck's constant howls at the base of my closet door changed that. To make her happy I played with the makeup and put on the skirt. She would purr around my legs when I wore the skirt. When I played with the makeup she would purr contentment watching me put the stuff on. I was terrible at it.
However by mid march I was getting better at it and Deck seemed to approve. The one morning I got ready for school as usual and was going to leave but Deck's howls from my desktop let me know her opinion on things. I tried to reason with her but she wouldn't let me leave without at least some lip gloss and mascara on. I washed them off when I got to school or tried too. Mascara doesn't come off that easily.
At school things got weirder though. My tests and stuff came back with Melony Williams on them instead of Markus Williams. So did my report cards. By this time most of my classmates were calling me Mel all the time. I brought it up once with mom who said she would correct it.
From time to time my sisters would drop off things for me to wear if I wanted. Some of their older skirts or dresses or shoes. I told them no each time as I was a boy. At first they would shake their heads and apologize but as time went on they didn't. Heck it wasn't that there wasn't more skirts in my closet. Somehow they ended up in my clean laundry so I had to put them somewhere.
So now I'm like fifteen. My sister's, mom, and pretty much the rest of my relatives all call me Mel. That doesn't bother me that much. Yes I have worn a skirt or two to school even though I hate it. Deck howled once or twice when I didn't. I refuse to wear a dress although mom thinks it's a good idea to where one, for once, to picture day. I don't know why but she has been insistent on it.
This morning I went to the bathroom and everything changed. For the last few days my crotch has felt funny. Like my penis was numb almost. This morning I went to pee and was pushing like mad when I made a mess of myself. I really had to go but couldn't standing up. So I sat had to go for a number two anyways. Even that was messy so I didn't notice when, after pushing really hard to pee while sitting down, something plopped into the toilet.
I flushed because of the smell from... well you don't really need the details of that. Anyways I was sitting there and got some toilet paper to wipe my self below when I noticed I was missing junior. Like really missing him. All I had left was this very pink, hairless slit. I screamed of course.
Mom, Shelly and Missy all came rushing in as I stood there missing my penis with a bit of blood dripping down my leg. I thought the blood was from my penis falling off but they saw it as something completely different.
If we were Japanese I would have had a bowl of red bean soup that morning. If you don't know what that means too bad. I cried and cried for hours. Deck, always attentive to my emotions, tried to comfort me as best she could.
"There there little one. It's just a normal thing for you humans. It will be all right you'll see." I heard, not with my ears but something else.
"Who said that?" I asked after pulling my face out of my pillows.
"You heard me finally? asked the voice.
"Yes I hear you. Now come out this ins't funny."
"But I'm right here?"
"Where I can't see you?"
"Well if you took your arm off of me it would help." I lifted my arm and there was a purring Deck.
"YOU!" I knew what that meant. Suddenly it all clicked too.
"Yes me. Who else would I be."
"You... You..." I was livid with anger. It all made a weird sense. Only women in our family had familiars. Now that I was a young woman mine talked to me.
"I'm so happy that you can finally hear me. It will make things so much easier now Melony."
"You did this to me! My name is Mark and I'm supposed to be a guy! Why?"
"You are my witch and the error has been corrected."
"But I don't want to be a witch!" okay I whined.
"And I didn't want a stupid name Deck! Live with it. Speaking of names you and I are so gonna have a chat about that name."
And that was how I got my familiar.
This story occured to me suddenly while reading one of enemy of fun's witch chapters. For some reason I had to write it out. Yes there is more to Melony's story as she has a whole lot to learn about being a witch or magic for that matter. It could happen in the Enemy of fun's universe I suppose but that is up to him/her really. Sorry but I really don't know how to address Enemyoffun.
At first I was gonna give her mom a cockroach as a familiar but decided against it. Familiar's don't just have to be cat's they can be other creatures.
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