Cursed by the Bottle

Cursed by the Bottle

This story was originally written for the Literotica Nude Day Story Contest 2025.

The idea for the story came from a public domain photo I found on the Library of Congress website titled "Francis Joseph Bruguière - Juniper, erotic photography" from 1915.

This story doesn't include any sex, but it does include descriptions of realistic naked people.

If you are moved to do so, please vote and comment. Thank you.

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As I drove up the driveway to what used to be my Aunt Samantha's house on that fateful Friday afternoon I remembered the summers I spent with her. My parents would ditch me for two or three weeks each year and honestly it usually was a lot more fun than staying at home doing nothing. Mom and dad both worked full time and couldn't afford the camps, or even the day camps, that my few friends attended.

At Aunt Samantha's house I got to stay up late, sleep in, and read whatever books I would bring or we would borrow from her local library. She also had shelves full of her own books, but almost none of them interested a tubby preteen boy. Well, except for The Hobbit, and I usually did read that one each year after I found it when I was ten. At the time I didn't realize what it meant to have a signed copy of that book, nor what it meant that she let me read it each year. I read that book ever time I stayed with her until I turned sixteen and got my first job.

As I got out of my car the house was still the magical place I remembered even after several years of neglect. As Aunt Samantha had gotten older, and sicker, and eventually died, she hadn't been able to maintain the property the way she would have wanted. Her neighbor, Mr. Johnson, had been mowing the lawn for me, but hadn't taken care of the gardens so everything was overgrown. The wraparound porch still had all the comfortable furniture, and the porch swing that we spent so much time in was swaying gently. The sound of the wind chimes made me smile, this was a safe place.

And, unfortunately, it was now mine. I would rather my aunt was still alive, she was good people.

When I heard Aunt Samantha had passed I was really sorry that I hadn't taken the time to visit more than once or twice in the last fifteen years, although we had spoken on the phone several times and I had seen her at Thanksgiving at my parents house. She had never had children of her own and among the cousins I was apparently her favorite since she had left me the property and all the contents of her house. Well, there had been a few things that she had specifically left to her friends, but those had already been turned over. I didn't need the house since I rented a nice apartment, but I also didn't need to live in the city since I worked remotely. Working remote was the best for everyone, really.

I was at my new house that weekend to see what I needed to get rid of so that I could move in. I already knew the internet connection was good enough for my needs from the couple of days I spent here around her funeral. After working a couple of hours Mr. and Mrs. Johnson stopped by. I was a mess; I was sweaty, dirty and probably even had cobwebs in my hair. I had carried all the dead houseplants and their pots out onto the porch, and had started collecting things that I considered to be garbage into trash bags.

"Oh, Rickie, how are you doing, dear?" Mrs. Johnson, Dorcas, asked. "We were so sorry when Samantha passed." The Johnson's were in their late fifties or maybe early sixties, so they were a little younger than my aunt. Mr. Johnson was carrying a casserole dish while Mrs. Johnson was carrying a pie.

"Honestly, I would rather she were still here in her own home so we could sit on the porch swing and talk about... well, anything, really.."

The Johnson's both smiled, and Henry said, "She did love that swing. Have you decided what you are going to do with the house?"

"Not permanently. I'm cleaning it out some now so that I can move in. I'm planning to try living here for a year or two while I decide if I want to keep it." I offered them a drink of water since I realized I needed one myself. I wasn't used to this much physical activity. The water was just like I remembered; even straight from the tap it was cool and somehow sweet.

Dorcas said, "Oh that would be wonderful. We need more young people on the street. Maybe even some kids sometime soon?"

I laughed because it would have been too uncomfortable not to laugh. I'm single, and I've always been single. My date to our senior prom was a lesbian who didn't want to come out to her family and my one and only sexual experience in college was the fraternity ho, and she didn't even seem to remember it the next day. I've always been heavy, I had bad acne during high school and college and started going bald before I even graduated. No woman has ever looked at me, except to then turn and laugh with her friends. I've never had any luck with women and I gave up trying years ago.

"No, Mrs. Johnson, no kids any time soon. I would need to get a girlfriend first."

We talked for a while and they offered to stop over with some of the other neighbors, and people who knew my aunt the next day to help me get rid of bigger stuff. I didn't need all of Aunt Samantha's furniture, and would obviously not have any need for her clothes. They said that they had been planning it for a while and had a bunch of people set up to help, if I wanted. But if I wanted to take care of it all on my own that would be fine, too. All it would take was a couple of calls to the phone trees and they could have people, and trucks, there the next morning.

I knew how it would go. People would show up willing to help, and then once they got a look at me they would never want to see me ever again. It would be best to get it out of the way all at once. "Sure, tomorrow morning would be fine."

Somehow I was wrong; they didn't immediately turn around and leave. Ten or twelve people showed up starting about ten on Saturday morning. The women took over cleaning the kitchen and both bathrooms while the men helped me move furniture and pack up closets full of clothing. There were even two teenagers who did a bunch of stuff outside. The boy mowed and trimmed the lawn and the girl spent hours weeding and trimming the flower gardens.

I didn't do much heavy lifting myself, but I was constantly running around because everyone had questions about what needed to go, or if something should be moved somewhere else. I was once again sweaty and disgusting, but nobody said anything. Only once or twice did I hear people laughing behind my back, and they might not even have been laughing at me. They probably were, but everyone still seemed friendly.

We took a break for lunch about one o'clock and everyone had brought food to share, and leftovers to leave with me. I was already too tired to eat much, but it was wonderful to be included in a community like this, even if I knew they would dump me as soon as they could. Some people had to leave after lunch but they left me their names and phone numbers in case I needed anything. In fact everyone did that before they left at the end of the day.

The men did a bunch of small fix up jobs, like tightening the cabinet doors in the kitchen and changing light bulbs. It was all stuff I could have done, but working together they got so much done so quickly. They even took a bunch of old furniture from the attic and Aunt Samantha's room to the consignment store in town. None of us thought any of it was valuable, but they all trusted the owner of the shop to price stuff fairly. Personally I was happy to have her bedroom dresser with its built in mirror gone. I didn't need to see myself first thing every morning.

One of the ladies, Molly Davenport, took all but one set of the linens, towels and bedding with her. She and her husband Mark owned the local coin laundromat and said they would wash it all and return it the next morning. She was several years older than me, and the teenagers were her kids. I tried to give her money but she wouldn't take it. She patted my hand and smiled, "This is what friends do for one another."

The house got really quiet after everyone left, but it was a comfortable silence. It reminded me of my aunt. I needed a shower badly but didn't really want to use the one in the master bathroom. Aunt Samantha had installed a floor to ceiling mirror on the wall opposite the shower. I guess she liked the full length mirror. I don't remember her dressing up or going out much when I lived with her those weeks as a kid, just that she usually wore long sleeves even in the heat of summer.

I decided I would have to shower in the master bathroom regardless of the mirror because it would be inconvenient to use the guest bathroom upstairs. I just made a point of not looking in the mirror. Nobody needs to see that; me least of all, I know how bad I look.

After my nice cooling shower I put on loose shorts and a large Darvel Comics t-shirt with the SuperbMan logo. It was good to be clean and comfortable again. After a meal of some kind of tuna pasta salad and cold pulled pork I wandered around the house. It was amazing how different the place looked after being cleaned so well. I would need to replace the indoor plants, though; it didn't look right without whatever those vines were growing across the bookcases. I always thought that made the place look even more enchanted.

The closet in the master bedroom was not quite empty. There was a small locked trunk tucked to the left, and there was a framed picture turned upside down on it. It was all cleaned and dusted, so one of my helpers must have put the picture like that on purpose. As I looked at the photo I thought briefly that it was a naked photo of my aunt, but I quickly realized that it wasn't. First of all Aunt Samantha was blonde, and this woman had black hair. Second, the photo looked super old. It was black and white and kind of grainy.

The woman was naked and she was reaching down toward an ornate bottle that sat on the floor. It looked like there was smoke coming out of the bottle. It was a very artistic picture, more erotic than pornographic. I don't know why the picture was in the closet, but I certainly wasn't going to leave it there. It was artistic enough to display, and there was a good spot on the bookshelves.

However, as I turned to walk out of the closet I saw a key hanging from a nail stuck into the door jam. I, of course, had to check so I put the photo down and tried the key. I kneeled down and opened the trunk; it was full of books and small memorabilia. There was also a bottle in the trunk that looked just like the one in the photo.

The bottom bulb of the bottle was rounded, and it had a tall neck closed with an ornate stopper. The bottle felt heavy enough to be full, but it didn't make any noise as I tried to slosh it around. I held it up to the light and it seemed to be full of swirling smoke. That was weird, but it looked like there was smoke coming out of the bottle in the photo, so maybe it did contain smoke?

I was still kneeling when I twisted the stopper loose and smoke started pouring out. Not a lot of smoke, really, just the amount you see when you blow out a candle. Except that the smoke kept pouring out. I tried to blow it out and my life changed immediately.

There I was kneeling on the floor in my new closet completely naked. As I blew on the smoke it suddenly sucked back into the bottle and my clothes disappeared with it. As did the stopper in my hand, although I didn't realize that at the time.

Needless to say I freaked out and dropped the bottle, but it did not break. It just rolled against the trunk and lay there.

I immediately got dressed again, but that didn't last long. I was so relieved to be able to cover up that I closed my eyes and let out a sigh of relief. As soon as I did that, though, I felt my clothes disappear again. I opened my eyes in shock and saw those clothes lying on the floor around me.

What the fuck? What the absolute fucking fuck was going on?

How would you react if your clothes just kept falling off?

I tried getting dressed several times.

As soon as I stopped concentrating on being dressed I was naked again.

In my completely freaked out panic I tried several things. The best I could do concentration wise was about five minutes, but if I glanced at the clock to check the time I was naked again. I could cover up with a blanket over my shoulders, and the blanket would stay there as a blanket. Until I thought that I could just wear the blanket like a cape and then it would magically fall to the ground. I could use a blanket to cover up, but I could not wear a cape. It was the same thing with a towel. If I wrapped my towel around myself and held onto it I could stay covered up. Covered around my waist, at least; my fat pasty chest was still bare. But if I tucked the end in to hold it up like I've done thousands of times it would immediately fall to the ground.

It wasn't quite as bad as being dead, but it wasn't far above that, either. I could never personally interact with anyone ever again. Not when they could see that I was this disgusting.

I couldn't go back to my apartment; it was a four hour drive. And even if I got there I couldn't make it inside without being seen, and then I would probably be arrested for indecent exposure. For the first time I wished I didn't live in a secure building with security cameras.

Did they do grocery deliveries out here? I don't even know what grocery stores are nearby. I work remotely; maybe I could make it work? No, eventually I would have to be on video camera; and besides I had only brought my laptop on this trip. All my real equipment was at home, and I couldn't get to it.

In frustration I picked up the bottle and threw it against the wall. It shattered, spraying broken glass, smoke, and little wisps of smoke that looked like my shorts and t-shirt around the room. The smoke and my maybe-clothes disappeared.

Oh no! What if I need the bottle to undo whatever happened?

I screamed in frustration!

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

Luckily, when I opened my eyes again the bottle was whole and sitting upright against the wall where I had thrown it. You will never understand the relief I felt at that moment.

Ok, maybe I can figure something out. Aunt Samantha had the ancient photograph, and the bottle. She had worn clothes every time I ever saw her, so clearly the bottle didn't affect her. I did not let myself think that she had known not to open it.

Maybe there was something else in the trunk that would help me.

I spent the entire night going through the trunk. It was all the private memories of a life well lived. She had stacks of letters from family and friends. I didn't read through those, except that among them she had the "thank you" note I sent for the rather extravagant graduation gift she gave me when I finished high school. I recognized my handwriting on the envelope. There were several awards and even a couple of plaques for community service.

There were also journals upon journals of daily thoughts. She wrote a page or so most days, sometimes more, but sometimes she missed a few days. She had excellent penmanship, but reading handwritten notes is harder than printed text. I spent the whole night sprawled out in bed skimming through the books. Eventually I feel asleep.

I was awakened by a loud knocking and I was halfway to the bedroom door when I remembered I was naked and grabbed the sheet to wrap around myself. A sheet is like a blanket and a sheet is not like a cape. A sheet is not like a cape.

"Hello?" I opened the door just a crack.

"Hey Rickie, its Molly Davenport! I've got your sheets and towles all washed and freshened!" She was holding two laundry bags and I could see another still in her car.

She pushed against the door, and as I stepped back I let go of the sheet and it dropped to the floor. As quickly as I could I bent down and covered myself up. It was too late, though. Mrs. Davenport was already laughing at me. Oh, god, she was right there! She was laughing at how disgusting I looked. I knew I shouldn't have even opened the door.

"Rickie, are you naked? Just like Samantha! You will do so well here." She shook her head and continued, "Here take these and I'll go get the last one." She was smiling at me, and continued to chuckle as she held out the two bags.

"Just put them down, if I take them the sheet will fall."

"That is up to you, it's your house. And yours isn't the first naked body I've seen here." She put the two bags on the floor and turned to go get the last.

What the hell? She has seen other naked people in my Aunt's house? What crazy world had I fallen into?

I finally collected myself by the time she returned, "Wait until the others hear you are a nudist, too, they will be so relieved."

"What the hell are you talking about? I'm not a nudist? Was my aunt? Are you? What?"

Mrs. Davenport looked confused, "Oh, you didn't know? Samantha loved being naked. We would sometimes have gatherings here, before she started getting ill. Oh, and she particularly enjoyed ambushing surprise visitors on the porch!" She giggled, "You can hear when cars pull into the driveway and if she wasn't expecting anyone she would quickly disrobe and be sitting there all innocent when they walked up. The religious folk quickly learned what they would find if they came up this driveway!"

She quickly realized that I didn't find the situation as entertaining as she did. "What's wrong?"

"I'm not a nudist! I could never take my clothes off in front of anyone!" I was yelling, practically hysterical.

"Really? Why not?"

"What? I'm fat and hairy and ugly and bald! Why would anyone want to see... me!"

"Well, that isn't the point, is it? The point of being nude is being comfortable with yourself. From that glimpse I just saw, you are indeed pretty hairy, but my husband Mark is even hairier than you are. So are a couple of other guys I know. And Sarah, the red haired lady that cleaned the upstairs bathroom yesterday? She doesn't shave and her legs put yours to shame."

"You are pretty fat, but so what? I'm carrying more weight than I would like, and I know a couple of guys who are fatter than you and several women are even rounder than you. You would outweigh them, sure, but only because you are so much taller. Hairy doesn't matter and fatness doesn't matter, either."

Then she looked me dead in the eye, "And as far as being ugly? That too is in the eye of the beholder. The women were talking about you yesterday, trying to decide who to set you up with. We came up with two or three women we thought might be interested in you."

That was a lot to process. "Really?"

"Yes. Really. Wow, somebody really did a number on your self confidence, didn't they?"

I shrugged and looked at the floor. Molly continued, "Ok, look, go get dressed and I'll take you to meet some people."

I looked up and panicked, "I can't leave, I can't wear clothes!"

Now it was Molly's turn to be confused, "You aren't a nudist, but you can't wear clothes? What are you talking about?"

"I think I've been cursed, come on I'll show you." I turned and walked back to the master bedroom. Considering how little furniture was in the room it was surprisingly messy with the contents of the trunk spread out everywhere. There were little piles of the stuff spread around the floor.

I handed Molly the photo and then pointed to the bottle, "Don't touch the bottle, I think it's cursed."

Taking the biggest risk of my life I dropped the sheet and started dressing in front of a stranger. Nobody had seen me naked since gym class in high school; I had kept my shirt on that one time in college. Now I had my hairy back and flabby ass toward Molly as I struggled into my pants and buckled my belt. I pulled a t-shirt over my head and turned back to her. I offered her my hands and said, "Hold my hands."

She was confused, but did as I asked, "Ok, did you see that bottle?" We both glanced at it.

"Yeah, so?" She looked back at me.

"You are holding my hands; how did my clothes get on the floor?"

"Holy fuck! How did you do that?" I explained it as best I could, to the best of my knowledge. Molly thought we should get some of her, and Samantha's, friends involved so she made a couple of calls. I really didn't want anyone else to see me naked, but I knew I needed help.

I was still devastated by the curse, but the fact that Molly hadn't run away was making me rethink reality. As if disappearing clothes weren't reality warping enough?

Molly offered, "Let's wait out on the porch." Sure, what did it matter where we waited? I was still naked and covered by a sheet.

I sat on the swing carefully, making sure to keep as covered as possible. I know the swing used to hold two people, so it should be fine with just me. Molly and I chatted for a few minutes.

"As I said, nudity is not about sex, necessarily. Sure, it can be with the right people, but with different people it is just about being comfortable. Now, for you and me it is just going to be about being comfortable. You can keep that sheet on for now, but I am going to take my clothes off while we wait for my husband and our friends to get here. It sounds like you might not have seen many naked women before."

"No, not really." Molly stood up and quickly took off her clothes, stacking them on her shoes near the front door. She was older than me, probably in her mid forties. Her breasts were pretty big, although not full, and they were kind of saggy. Her nipples pointed straight down. When I realized that I was starting to get hard I blushed and looked away.

"Look at me Rickie, you will have to get used to seeing naked women." I looked back at her and saw her big hairy bush. The porn I usually use rarely shows more than a little trimmed patch.

I looked away again, "I, I..."

"Don't worry about it, getting hard is a natural reaction. I take is as a complement, even though we both know nothing will happen between us."

We talked about my work and my plans for being able to work from the house once I moved here permanently. Eventually my erection went away, and I was very relieved.

A few minutes later we heard a car pull into the driveway beyond the trees. It did take about twenty seconds before the car was visible; plenty of time for me to drop the sheet if I had wanted to do so. I did not want to do so and pulled it tighter around myself.

It was Molly's husband Mark and as he got out of the car I saw him glance at Molly before stopping and taking off all of his clothes, which he left on the seat of his car. He pulled a couple of towels out from the backseat as he walked up to the porch.

"Hey Rickie, Molly says you need help with joining the naturist lifestyle?" He kissed Molly and handed her a towel as he spread his own out on a chair before sitting down. He was even hairier that I am, and a fair amount of it was even turning gray. He looked a little like a silverback gorilla, except that a lot of the silver was on his chest.

"Not really, I'm being forced into it."

Mark looked at Molly sharply, and she said, "Not by me! We will explain when the others get here."

A short time later Sarah arrived with another woman who was, as Molly had put it, quite round. They also disrobed near their car and walked up the path to the porch carrying towels. Sarah's legs were hairier than mine, as were her red armpits and bush. Sarah introduced her friend, Valerie. She was also probably just a little older than me. She was fat enough that I couldn't even see her bush, if she had one. And her tits were huge. I stood up to shake her hand, and struggled with the sheet. I definitely didn't want her to see my dick getting hard at the sight of her.

"It's nice to meet you, Rickie, but why are you wrapped in a sheet? I thought we were welcoming you to the community?" Valerie did seem surprised that I was the only one covered, but the question caused me to blush and, thankfully, lose my erection.

They were all perfectly comfortable being naked, so I could do it too, right??

"Something happened last night. Aunt Samantha had a magic bottle and it stole my clothes. So now I'm sitting on this swing wrapped up in a sheet." They all looked at me like I was crazy, except for Molly.

So I thought about being wrapped in a cape, and looked quickly toward the parked cars. After everyone glanced that way and looked back I was sitting naked on the swing blushing across my whole body. The sheet was on the ground beneath the swing.

Even Molly was surprised, and she had seen the clothes disappear earlier.

Mark said, "What the hell?"

Valerie, who was standing closest asked, "How did you do that?"

I bent and picked up the sheet before standing up. "Magic. And not the sleight of hand kind, it's a curse. Come on, I'll show you."

I didn't bother wrapping myself in the sheet. There was no point. They were going to see me naked anyway. I was naked in front of three women and a man that I barely knew. The fact that they were also nude did not make it better. My face burned as I walked past them into the house. I was so embarrassed I couldn't even hear, it seemed like there was wind blowing past my ears. I know they were murmuring something, but I couldn't hear or understand them.

When I got to the bedroom I handed Mark the picture. He was right behind me coming into the room. "Show them, but nobody touch the bottle."

I got dressed again, and struggling to get dressed in front of people was even more embarrassing than just being naked. As I was getting dressed I told them the story.

"Ok Molly, hold my hands again." She did and we both looked at the bottle.

But my clothes did not disappear. That was fine! I would much rather these people think that I am crazy rather than not being able to wear clothes!

Molly said, "Wait, why didn't it work?"

"Uhh. I don't know?" But then I remembered that Valerie was still looking at me when I had looked back from the bottle.

"Wait, everyone look away at the same time." This time it worked, unfortunately.

"Shit!" Valerie was really surprised.

"Maybe the magic won't work if someone could see it happen?" I learned later that Sarah read a lot of romantasy books and so knew a lot about fictional fantasy magic.

I couldn't really see how knowing that would help me very much; even if someone were to try to watch me closely they would eventually glance away for a second. The only way I could keep my clothes would be in a crowd where someone was always looking at me. Having a crowd of people stare at me had never been very appealing even if I was fully dressed. And inevitably something would draw everyone's attention away and my clothes would fall off in the middle of the crowd. Horrifying.

Mark shook his head, "Being nude is great if you choose to be nude, but not having a choice doesn't seem fun at all."

I looked at him blankly for a second, "No, it isn't fun at all."

I didn't bother with the sheet anymore, it was inconvenient and these people had already seen me naked. And they were all perfectly happy with being naked in front of one another. Molly asked if any of them knew any of Samantha's other friends, people she had known for a long time. She thought that maybe one of them might know something about the photo, or the bottle. I begged her not to invite anyone else over and she agreed, "Unless they already know about the photo and the bottle."

While Molly was on her phone in the kitchen the rest of us took the stack of journals to the porch and started going through them. It felt a little like an invasion of Aunt Samantha's privacy to share the journals like this, but I was desperate for any information.

Just before noon Molly joined us on the porch, "Good news, I think. I called a bunch of people and asked about the photograph, pretending to try to find out who was in it. Most of her friends didn't know what I was talking about; a couple remembered the photo, but nothing more. Her friend Larry did remember the photo, and he even asked about the bottle. He didn't want to talk about it on the phone, but he said he would be here soon. I know you asked not to invite anyone else, but he just said he was coming over."

We stopped for lunch; luckily there were still lots of leftovers from the day before. We talked about what we had read in Samantha's journals. She lived an incredible life. Valerie had found a couple from when I visited as a child, she sat those aside so that I could read them later. I'm curious to read about myself as a child, but I'm busy trying to figure out how I can even have a life.

During a lull in the conversation I wished I could be as comfortable as these people are. Molly was old and wrinkly, with a stomach paunch and saggy breasts. And she was smiling and happy and so nice. Mark was covered in body hair, and a fair amount of it was gray. But he was friendly with all these naked women and they had all given one another hugs when they arrived.

Sarah's hairy legs and armpits were definitely not what modern media considered attractive, but she was super cute. She burped after eating, and she was perfectly comfortable with that. Not "ladylike", but she moved on and everyone was fine with it.

Valerie was fatter than me, truth be told. Sure I was heavier, but like Molly had said that was because I am more than a foot taller than she is, and broader across my shoulders. But she was definitely rounder. And she was happy, and not ashamed to be naked in front of people.

If they could all be this comfortable being naked, couldn't I be, too? I closed my eyes and sighed, thinking about walking around the house naked, chatting with random people, comfortable in my skin.

"Rickie!"

I opened my eyes and looked at Valerie, "What?"

"You're dressed!"

I looked down and saw that I was wearing the same clothes that I had worn the night before. I have never been so happy to see the SuperbMan logo.

Thank god, I could never live as a nudist!

And with that thought my clothes dissolved again. I saw the others watch the smoke move into the bedroom where the bottle was and Mark ran after it. I broke down and sobbed, "Oh, no!"

Mark came back a moment later, "I saw the smoke go into the bottle, just like you said."

Valerie asked, "What happened? You were dressed for a moment. I looked away and when I looked back you had clothes on."

I thought about it and replied, "I was thinking about how comfortable you all are with being naked, and I was daydreaming about being as accepting as you all seem."

"Huh." Molly said. "Maybe that is the secret. You are so uncomfortable with being naked that the curse took your clothes. Maybe the only way to break the curse is to be ok with being naked?"

I blushed again; there is no way I could get used to being naked in front of people. "What? The only way I can wear clothes is if I am fine with being naked?"

We talked about it, and it made as much sense as anything else.

We heard someone drive into the yard, and Molly went to let them in. A few moments later a fully dressed older man walked into the living room. He had kicked off his shoes by the door. "Hello all, it's nice to see you again."

He walked over to me and stuck out his hand, apparently oblivious to everyone else being naked. "Hello Rickie, I'm Larry. Your aunt and I were friends. I'm so sorry for your loss."

I heard the slight delay before he said "friends", but I already knew they were lovers from one of the journals I had read. "Thank you. She was good people."

"Yes, indeed. Can you tell me what happened?" He motioned to my nudity and for once I didn't blush.

As I told the story he stopped me partway through. "Wait; there was a stopper in the bottle? Where is it?"

It was then that I realized I hadn't seen the stopper since I blew out the smoke. "I don't know; probably in the bedroom?"

Larry led the way into the bedroom and immediately picked up the bottle, "Wait!" But it was too late.

"What? Samantha showed me the bottle; I just want to see something." He held it up to the light. "Were you wearing a black shirt and tan shorts? I can sort of see them swirling around in the bottle. Samantha was wearing a tie dye dress when the bottle took her clothes. Can you guys see if you can find the stopper? Although I don't think you will."

Larry saw the pile of letters that I had stacked against the wall and, after handing me the bottle, started going through it. "Hold on a second." Eventually he came to a particularly dog eared letter and handed that to me as well. "This is probably what you are looking for."

Then, realizing that he was still clothed, he started toward the door as he unbuttoned his shirt. "I'll be right back."

I quickly read through the letter, and it was just what I needed to know, even though I hated to have it confirmed. It was from the person who had sent Aunt Samantha the bottle, someone named Elliot Dinwiddie. The bottle was to "help her to get better". If she opened the bottle and blew out the smoke she would no longer be able to hide who she was out of fear. The letter was dated thirty five years ago, before I had even been born.

I looked up as Larry reentered the room and was shocked by what I saw. The left side of his body, from the middle of his rib cage down his left leg, was covered with scar tissue. Nobody else was surprised, but he explained to me. "I was in a car accident fifteen years ago, and was trapped as it caught fire. The fire fighters put it out before I died, but the heat had crisped my skin; the scars are permanent. That was how I met your aunt. She was a peer counselor."

"I assume you didn't see her scars when you were a kid, did you? Not that she was embarrassed by them by the time you were visiting but it wasn't something she probably would have shared with you. Samantha was in her late twenties when she got hurt at work; she never went into the details, but it was some kind of chemical burn that somehow missed her hands and face. Most of her body was scarred, it looked pretty bad." The others all nodded.

"I, I never knew."

"You were a kid, she wouldn't have wanted to scare you."

Mark came out of the closet and said, "I couldn't find the stopper, sorry."

Larry said, "Thanks for looking but I didn't think you would. Samantha never had the stopper." He turned to look at me. "The letter didn't say so, but Samantha thought the bottles curse, or maybe gift, was permanent. For the last thirty five years any time Samantha got embarrassed by her body, or self conscious about herself her clothes would disappear."

"Permanent, oh no!" There was no way I could live with the fear of my clothes disappearing, could I? Oh god, no.

I heard Molly giggle, and then laugh outright. I turned to glare at her, feeling betrayed. She wasn't laughing at me, though; she was smiling and laughing with Mark.

"What's so funny?"

"That must be how she did it! All those years!" My face must have shown that I didn't understand, so she continued, still laughing gently. "Remember I told you she would often meet unexpected visitors naked? She must have used the bottles magic to remove her clothes quickly."

Larry nodded, "Yeah, I saw her do that a couple times, too. She also used the magic to remove her clothes quickly at certain other times."

When I realized what he meant I decided I didn't need to know any more about when my aunt would want to remove her clothes quickly.

Molly said, "I know this is hard for you, but all the time you spent with Samantha she was under this curse. She had accepted who she was, and what she looked like, and was fine."

Valerie reached out and touched my arm. "You will be fine, too. You are fine."

Fine? How could she say that? I am disgusting, and naked just makes it worse.

Wait, why hasn't she removed her hand? And why is she looking at me like that? Nobody has ever looked at me like that before. Did she think I was fine, like fine looking?

I looked at this small group of nudists, all friends of my aunt, and they were happy and comfortable with all of their flaws being open to the world. Maybe I could be, too.

I closed my eyes and let out a sigh. "Look away."

A moment later I felt my clothes reappear and I reopened my eyes. There it was, SuperbMan covering my chest.

In front of this small group of people, hopefully my new friends, I stripped my shirt off and dropped it on the floor. The rest of my clothes quickly followed until there was a small pile on the floor.

I turned around and everyone clapped. That made me self-conscious, and the pile of clothes disappeared. I laughed, "I guess this will take some time to get used to."