Three weeks ago you didn't know you had an aunt Barbara, let alone one close enough to leave you everything in her will. Your parents insisted otherwise, claiming that she was a wealthy recluse and that you two spent a lot of time together in your early childhood.
"You're probably too young to remember," your mom said, "But those were some of the happiest days of her life. She was a lonely woman. Always working, especially towards the end of her life."
You didn't ask any follow-up questions; you didn't want to look a gift horse--or 5-bedroom house, or seven-figure inheritance-- in the mouth. After some token legal proceedings, you got enough money to put in your two weeks' notice. You and your girlfriend Meg moved into her house over the weekend, just in time for you to go back to work and put in your last day today.
As you waved your last goodbyes to the handful of colleagues you actually liked, you got a text from Meg.
"Hey, did you know that Barbara was a movie buff?"
You texted back. "No, I barely knew her. Why?"
"She' got this library tucked away behind her bedroom. A few books on film and a shitload of DVDs I never heard of before." She posted a photo of a handwritten note before you could respond. You zoomed in, struggling to read the elaborate cursive.
"My darling nephew," you read, "I'm moving on to bigger and better things. I know you don't understand what that means; doubtlessly you barely remember me. Lord knows I have no reason to remember you. Please do not take that as an insult; my intent should become more obvious as you watch these films. I left a disc for your lady love to watch as a demonstration or what I mean. Warmest regards, Aunt Barbara."
You were about to respond when Meg sent you another photo. This appeared to be of a DVD cover of some anime. Two frightened-looking women, halfheartedly wielding shortswords, stood in front of a far-taller woman dressed in a gray robe, wielding a staff. Something struck you as familiar about the film, but the characters' immense (and prominently-displayed) cleavages kept you from figurin out what it was supposed to be.
"What is it?" you asked.
"I gave it a watch," Meg responded. "Get this: it's apparently a Lord of the Rings anime by Studio Gainax. It's the exact same story, but all of the characters are women with huge tits. Well, pretty big ones, at least. Relatively." She sent a winking emoji. In the back of your mind, you could feel distant, indistinct memories begin to swirl.
"How was it?"
"Pretty hot, honestly. You need to see what they did for Gandalf the White. I didn't think people went that over-the-top with anime boobs back in 2003."
You paused. Something wasn't not right here; you were almost certain that that movie couldn't exist.
"I guess I'll take a look when I get back," you said.
The drive home felt endless, but you were barely aware of it. You couldn't focus on anything but what Meg had shown you. It wasn't possible. There wasn't a horny Lord of the Rings anime. Not in this world, at any rate.
Not in this world.
The words echoed in your head as you pulled into your aunt's--now your--driveway and got out of the car.
"I'm back," you texted.
"Cool," Meg responded. "I'm upstairs in your aunt's library."
You strode into the house, feeling your heart pound as you climbed the stairs. You never had an aunt. You knew that. Yet here you were, walking through her bedroom door, furtively eyeing the dark carpet and rich wooden walls. Something was wrong here, but--
You stepped into a door that didn't exist two days ago and freeze in your tracks.
There, towering above you, was Meg. She'd been 5'5", but now she was more than a head taller than you. Her long brown hair, which was barely neck-length when you left this morning, flowed over her shoulders, past her collarbone, barely touching the top of her breasts. You told yourself that you didn't notice those first, despite the fact you knew you were lying. Her tight, low-cut top showed off cleavage that could have engulfed the top half of your body in a single hug. Her nipples poked through her shirt, showing you her arousal and bralessness. She had a short teal skirt on, which was stretched taut across hips wider than the doorframe to the room, thighs thicker than your waist, and an ass that must have weighed more than you.
"I--wha--"
The memories that swirled in your head an hour ago burst into your conscious mind like water from an open dam. You remembered running into Meg at freshman orientation in college. The incident had left you stuck between her tits, silently hoping that she couldn't feel your cock stiffening against her voluminous thighs. She'd laughed it off, leaving you stuck for a bit longer than was strictly necessary. You'd gone on your first date that very night, an incident that destroyed two seats at the local theater, the door frame to your dorm, your bed, and your hips. You had--
You shook your head. None of that had been true.
And yet, you realized with growing amazement, it was true now.
Meg stepped towards you, hips swaying and body jiggling with each movement. "So...I may have watched a few other movies in here," she purred. "Some very specific movies." She gestured to a sagging couch, strewn with DVD cases depicting women that all seemed to share Meg's physique. "And, well..." grabbed your shoulder, gently guiding you towards the door. "I think you know what's gonna happen next."
You nodded, readying yourself and hoping that this new version of you had a stronger pelvis and better lungs.
