Jägermeister (Patreon)

She traced the raised text on the side of the square bottle and looked at the indifferent stag on the label staring back at her above the fraktur font on garish colors spelling out "Jägermeister". It looked sinister in the back alley light. The perfect bottle to fill with a cursed hex potion. She took another swig. What more harm could it do that it hadn't already? She thought back at the past few hours and if she should have done something differently.

Accepting the bachelorette party in the first place was of course a huge mistake. She was surprised to hear from Kathy at all, given how frosty it had been between them over the summer. But this wasn't about any of them but Beth's wedding. Kathy had taken it on herself to arrange the bachelorette party and all the guests would show up as fairies. She didn't have to partake in the kidnapping or anything, just show up at the booked venue at the given time. She accepted.

They had the nightclub for themselves until nine when they would open up for the public. The bouncer checked her off from a list and right inside Kathy was handing out goodie bags with plastic tiaras, fairy wands, and other items for the evening. "I put something special in yours. Don't share it," she said with hushed voice, then continued cheerfully "Welcome prosecco straight ahead at the bar".

On her way over to the bar she had a glance in the bag and to her surprise saw a full-size bottle of Jäger. It made no sense why Kathy had put one in her bag. She wasn't even sure she was allowed to have a personal bottle inside the bar. Perhaps that was the game. Wait until the celebration was over and the bar opened for the public, then accuse her of having smuggled in some liquor. Nah, that was too contrived. She was an evil bitch, but a cunning one.

Happy to be rid of Kathy she hurried to the others who had arrived before her. Plenty of familiar faces, and a few new ones as well. The prosecco was cheap, but the bar staff kept topping up everyone's glasses as the noise level in the room slowly and steadily kept rising.

What she had thought would be a pleasant chat with old acquaintances turned out to be much more labor-intensive. Apparently a lot of the girls had been informed of the fallout between her and Kathy, but with a few exceptions they had only heard Kathy's side of the story. It wasn't outright lies, or consistent inaccuracies either, but she learned Kathy had invented lots of different distortions of the truth and spread them into different groups with no interactions. Why was she invited here at all if she had just poured poison in everyone's ears the past few months? Perhaps it would look suspicious if she hadn't been, though she certainly had worked up lots of reasons why she shouldn't be invited.

"She's been kidnapped. They are 45 minutes away!" someone announced through the speaker system. There was a short pause in the chatter before it resumed, if anything invigorated by the news. She wasn't sure how many glasses she had had, it's hard to count when you never actually empty the glass, but she saw a few of the girls peeling off the group and heading for the restroom. She felt she needed that too.

With the muffled chatter of the bar outside the restroom and stall doors she sat down on the toilet, more than tipsy, exhausted, and distressed. How could she have missed what Kathy had been doing to her reputation over the summer? She glanced down into the silver foiled paper bag and saw the top of her bottle of Jägermeister. Fucking Kathy! Well, at least she had known she needed a drink.

She unscrewed the cap, filled it with the dark liquid, and downed it. She winced at the herbal horror and put the cap back on the bottle. The high proof made her throat and chest warm. Then it spread to her bowels. Then she really started to get concerned. She tried to stand up, but fell back onto the seat. The warmth, now turned to heat, was spreading out into her limbs as well. She could feel sweat breaking out as well as shivers as she slowly lost consciousness.

"You OK in there?!" someone asked, knocking hard on the door. "Yeah" she answered back, immediately shocking her back into reality when she heard her own voice. Was it reality though? She looked at her body, still sitting at the toilet. Her legs, while still freshly shaven, looked way more muscled, as did her arms. Her blouse was open with all buttons ripped out, exposing her chest and stomach. It was clearly a man's torso with a flat chest, faint six-pack, and to end it all dangling at the bottom, a dick. "Eh. OK, dude" replied the woman on the other side of the stall door. She had answered her with a man's voice.

She stood up, this time without any problems. It felt like she was sober, or at least way less drunk than just seconds ago. Or how long had she been in there? She bent down, grabbed her panties, and quickly pulled them up. There was the sound of a snap somewhere and the panties felt limper. She dropped them, grabbed the tutu, prayed that at least something would fit, and pulled them up to her hips. It stayed up. She was still wearing her black converse and her white and pink striped shin socks. She stepped out of the panties and stuffed them and her tattered blouse into the bag. She noticed several tattoos on her arm and chest as she did that.

She braced herself and stepped out of the stall. The mirror wall right opposite showed a lean man with shaved head wearing a tutu. This must all be Kathy's doing. She couldn't even begin to understand how.

What followed was a walk through a packed bar with drunken women, all of which believed he was part of the entertainment, and none of whom had any qualms about putting their hands on him, squeezing his pecs or ass, or trying to pull his dick and balls. A few even tried to rip his tutu off him. "Ladies, ladies, there's time for everyone, but first I need to get out and have a smoke," he tried. He was soon standing panting in the alley next to the bar with three cigarettes and two lighters in his hand that he'd promised to return.