by L M Gregory
Parting my robes, I took my cock in hand. It wouldn't take much. I'd seen too much, heard too much, to last long.
But my thoughts flickered to Anna and Tom. Their sounds. The way Anna's back had moved while she rode Tom. The moans of her enjoyment. So much more than I had ever experienced. Could sex be that much better than self-pleasure? According to my master, no. It was one of the first suggestions he'd had for me.
"Apprentice, take care of your own needs. Your hand is as good as any woman's cunt."
The memory was almost enough to cost me my erection. Almost. But the night's activities were too fresh. Was Tom that good of a lover? Was there something special about women that made sex better for them? I'd studied the anatomy of men and women in my books, so I knew they had a bundle of pleasure centers above the folds of their pussy. Much smaller than a man's penis, maybe that compacted the pleasure and made it better?
I sighed. Even when trying to masturbate, I couldn't escape the curiosity of a wizard. No wonder women wanted nothing to do with wizards. Which brought up another important question. Why weren't women wizards? My master claimed it was because women lacked curiosity, the spark necessary to be a wizard. But I knew that was nonsense. I suspected the real answer was that the male-dominated wizard profession was misogynistic and refused to be outdone by a mere woman.
Maybe I'll take a woman as an apprentice when I become a master. I flushed. I hadn't meant the thought to sound creepy, but it sure seemed that way since my cock was in my hand while I considered bringing a woman into the wizardry profession. I'm an idiot.
Despite the importance of curiosity and thought, there were times when a wizard needed to clear his mind. I used the meditation techniques to empty my mind of everything except the pleasure of the moment. The more I thought about my current needs, the sooner I could finish and move onto the potion.
But my thoughts wouldn't still. They drifted back to Anna. The way she moved. Despite a few glances, I had never seen her fully from the front. Just her profile. Her breasts were often talked about by the apprentices in the tavern. Her hips too. The way she moved. The way she smelled. Anna was the most noticed woman in the village.
What would that be like?
To have men at my beck and call? I paused in my masturbation. No! I didn't want men. What was wrong with me? Why was I thinking that way? Ugh. I pushed the thoughts to the side. Tried to concentrate on what it would be like to fuck Anna. But it was Tom's figure that came into my mind. Filled me with lust. Tom, I had seen naked in the bathhouse. The man was as big in the endowment department as he was in height. No one matched Tom's cock or body.
Which is why I want it. But how did I want it? The thought of laying back on a bed with Tom's big body pushing me down. The comforting weight of my friend settling on me. I moaned. No! But the vision wouldn't leave. Tom's smile.
Our lips meeting in a brush of pleasure that was like... well, I didn't know. I hadn't kissed anyone, but it had to be amazing the way people went on about it. My mind filled in the details. If the real thing was even half as good, I was in for a treat when I finally kissed a woman.
"Ready?" the phantom Tom asked.
"Yes, oh yes," I heard myself say.
I arched my back, crying out as Tom penetrated me. Slid into me.
"Tom!" I cried.
Tom's grunts answered. Pleasure-filled and loud. "I'm going to make a baby in you," Tom said while panting.
A baby? "Yes, Tom! Give me your seed!"
Faster, my mind conjured the scene out of thin air. Never had I considered such a thing. But it was happening. Pulling Tom in. Harder. Faster.
Then the explosion. A shuddering, full-body orgasm that took my breath away. A moment later, Tom's head arched back, and he roared, filling me with his seed.
Warm, wetness spilled onto my hand. My cum.
Panting, I stared at the stone ceiling of my room. What the abyss was that?
After minutes, I stood and wiped myself down. If I wanted a chance at making the potion, I'd need to do it before my master woke. That left an hour or two at best, but was that enough time?
I shouldn't have masturbated. But part of me couldn't forget the visions in my head. Not of Anna. But of being a woman
* * *
I stared at the recipe in horror. Now I remembered why I didn't consider it earlier. The ingredients were... exotic. Or disgusting depending on one's point of view.
It was strange, wizards tended towards the asexual, and that included my own master as far as I had observed. However, the potions and enchantments tended to have some of the most sexual ingredients imaginable. Maybe they pretended to be asexual. But why? Why pretend to dislike sex, but create such ridiculous potions?
Like the Morphing Potion. Most of the ingredients were the standard herbs and flowers, but three stood out as problematic. All were... semen. Elf semen. Orc semen. Troll semen.
Who had to collect the troll semen? Elves and Orcs were notoriously sexual, so collection wouldn't be a problem, but troll semen? Why? Why was semen even necessary? For a moment, I considered skipping the ingredients. For one, the troll semen was labeled as massively expensive in my master's cabinet. If my master noticed it missing, I would be in trouble. Possibly horrible trouble. Like expelled from the wizard fraternity trouble.
Biting my lip, I finally shrugged. It would use up the last of the troll semen and put a massive dent in the other two, but I couldn't remember ever seeing my master used the stuff anyway. So why not just go for it?
I wasn't that far from finishing my apprenticeship, and after that, my master wouldn't have much influence on my career. It would probably be years before he even noticed the stuff was missing!
At least the stuff was ethically collected, meaning someone had seduced and/or paid for the semen. I could cross one worry off my list.
Right.
Plus… curiosity won out. Now that I was so close, how could I step away? No wizard could. Which led me back to the idea that my master had already used the potion. It would explain a lot.
I mixed the ingredients, mumbling the words under my breath. The sun was rising, approaching the point where my master might wake. To be safe, I needed to be finished by that time.
The potion shifted inside the beaker.
Careful.
The general public had a belief that wizards made potions like brewers made beer. Mix some ingredients, wait a bit, and poof, you had a magic potion. That wasn't true. Potion making was skilled labor far beyond even the best brewers. It required spell energy, formed and directed by the words I mumbled under my breath. Potion making also required timing. Each ingredient had to be added at the exact right moment, even a second off, and the energy would dissipate, wasting the ingredients and the time.
Since I had only one shot at this, I had to make it count.
My hands stayed steady despite feeling like they should shake. One-shot. The spell wasn’t an exact recipe, but a general guide. Each wizard had to adapt the spells to their own magic. Which added another element of risk to my potion making. A gesture or mumble wrong and the whole thing would go up in fire.
Sweat trickled down my forehead.
One by one, I added the ingredients. Pressure built in the lab, the energy of magic swirling around the potion, filling it, and dancing away. Trying not to think of the collection methods, I added the Orc cum. The potion shifted through a dozen colors before returning to a clear, thick liquid that I was not looking forward to drinking.
Next came the Elf cum. Whiter than my own and much brighter than the almost yellow Orc cum... Why did I have to notice that? A puff of smoke squirted from the potion when the Elf cum hit. The potion book had warned of that. Carrying away impurities. It was a common signal things were going right. An exploding beaker on the other hand, was considered a bad sign. It had been a couple years since I had screwed up a potion that badly.
I waited until the potion stopped bubbling before opening the last vile. Troll semen. Wait. Is that green?
Ugh! Ignoring my sudden urge to empty my stomach, I added the last ingredient for the potion base. This was the most complex potion I'd ever created. If it worked.... yes! There it was. The liquid swirled on its own. Faster and faster. The ingredients mixed into a perfect light blue potion.
A few last mumbled words sent another poof of smoke towards the exhaust system. Magical, of course.
It was done.
Except for the hair. The primary purpose of the hair was to charge the potion with the essence of what I wanted to be. A glance out the window showed that time was running out. Fast. I could almost hear my master's footsteps on the stairs.
Hurrying through a spell or any magic was never a good idea, but it was something all wizards learned. There were times when speed was necessary. Like when your master was going to discover you making an expensive potion.
I paused.
How would I explain the effects? I hadn't considered that. I bit my lip. No. I couldn't give up now. Not when I was so close to his dream. Not to mention the Troll cum was already gone. If my master kicked me out, I could join the guard as I'd always wanted. I'd miss being a wizard, but it was a price I would pay to be someone more respected. The guards got all the girls. That would help with the sting of losing my profession. And it's not like I would give up magic entirely. I just couldn't practice openly, or I'd risk bringing down the wrath of full wizards. No big deal.
I spun the hairs, mixing my own brown hairs with the red hairs I'd collected from my friend. Fingers trembling from the exhaustion—another thing peasants didn't realize, magic took endurance—I hurried through the spell with the phantom footsteps chasing me towards oblivion.
I dropped the bundle of hair into the bottle and shouted the last words. That was it. I had it. The potion gave another little puff of smoke and cleared to the final pink color. Exactly as described in the book. Most potions ended up pink for some reason. The pink color of potions was probably the cause of most wizards hating pink. My own master had forbidden the color in the tower. Which wasn't a terrible problem, since outside of magic, it was difficult to get pink to hold to cloth.
Shaking my head, I grabbed the bottle. One deep breath and I downed the disgusting mixture without thought. I managed to hold it in despite my swirling stomach.
Don't think of what's in it! Which, of course, brought just that to mind. I ran for my room. At least once the transformation was complete, I'd have time to try and convince my master of the utility of my new body. I suspected I'd be powerfully built, but with my own features. That was what I'd gone for anyway. Without experimentation, I'd had to rely on the book's descriptions of the correct ratios and words to use in order to facilitate the change I wanted, then adapt them to my magic. Not ideal, but my master's books tended to be right about the ratios and such things. Philosophy on the other hand… ugh.
Head spinning and pain starting to sprout in my extremities, again expected, I prepared to pass out. It was the final stage of the spell working. Just a short wait. Magic was amazing. If my master expelled me, I would miss learning from an expert. Think of what I'd just done! A mixture of red and brown hairs and some ingredients I'd rather not think about and boom! I would have a new body.
Wait.
Red hairs?
Tom had brown hair.
My vision wavered just before I slipped into darkness.
Chapter 3: Unexpected Morph
"Ouch!" I curled around my midsection where I'd just been jabbed by a foot. It hadn't been that hard of a kick, but the suddenness shocked me.
My master's familiar voice followed. "Scram, girl!"
Girl? Did even my master manage to get a woman to come home with him? That made zero sense since I was certain that my master wouldn't know what to do with a woman. Other than kicking them out.
He'd even banned women from the tower, claiming they interfered with the flow of magic. As if that made any sense. I had never found a reference in any of the books I'd read, nor had he seen evidence from working in the consultation building. The building my master had insisted be built by village just so no women could enter his tower.
Another nudge of my ribs with a foot followed.
"Ouch! Stop kicking me damn it." Why does my voice sound so high? I frowned. That was weird. Despite my short stature and my body's unwillingness to strengthen, I'd always had a nice deep voice. If only I had the courage to use it around women. Tom claimed women went wild for a deep voice. But what did he know? Oh right. He knew half the women in the village.
"Out girl! I swear if that boy wants pussy so bad, I'll turn him into a cat for a week! See if I don't! Maybe then he'll learn to obey me when I say no women in the tower! Out!"
I groaned and rolled over to try and sit up. It mostly worked, but my body felt off.
My body felt off.
Despite the situation, I grinned. It had worked. I wonder what I look like?
"Stop that grinning and get out!"
I looked up to see my master looming with a glare that could have stripped the stone out of the tower walls. Possibly literally, he actually was a powerful wizard despite his modest position.
"Me?" Why is he glaring at me while yelling at the woman? And where is she? I don't see anyone. Did she already run? I stood, toddled on my feet before regaining his balance. Woah. The new body would take some getting used to.
"Cover your nakedness, you shameless whore," my master spat at me. A moment later, a tunic slapped into my face.
Whore? What was wrong with my master? Clearing my blindness, I looked around. I still didn't see a woman. Was my master trying to kick me out? Then why keep talking to the woman?
"And don't go around thinking you're anything special, girls like you are everywhere in the city." My master paused and leered at me. Leered! "Though I have to admit the boy has good taste."
"What?" I tried to clear my head, but I couldn't reach the state necessary for meditation. Not surprising, given my confusion.
"Out!" my master roared.
I tugged the tunic over my head, struggling to get it past my chest. It was one of my older ones, but it should have fit better than that. Ah-hah! Broader shoulders. Nice. Though come to think of it, it wasn't really my shoulders where I struggled.
Still, the look on my master's face didn't leave much room for argument. I had to try though. "Master?" I said, but again, instead of my deep voice, a squeak came out. Had the potion affected my voice? I might have to investigate fixing that. Once my master calmed down enough to let me back inside the tower.
The wizard’s eyes started glowing.
A good sign to run.
I took off running. Ouch! Why did my chest hurt? I didn't pause until I was outside, the tower door slamming shut in a swirl of magic.
Now what? I looked around while rubbing my chest. It felt softer than I'd have expected, but maybe I'd have to do some lifting of heavy objects like Tom to get the physique. That was a sacrifice I'd do if necessary. I’d hoped the muscles would come across on their own, but magic didn't always work as one might hope. Sometimes it was just strange. New potions especially were hard. That's why three-quarters of magic was waiting for an experiment to finish.
I sighed. The air nipped at me, and I shivered. Should I wait here? Or go into town? At least Tom's smithy would be warm if Tom's father allowed me to stay.
Weighing my options, I decided to wait at least a little while to see if my master came to his senses. There didn't even appear to be a woman! No one could run fast enough to disappear down the road in the little time my master had been yelling at me. Maybe into the forest, but it was too easy to get lost in there, few people would try it.
I settled on a rock in the sun just a short distance down the road. Either the sun would warm me, or my master would come to his senses and let me back into the tower
* * *
"Anna!" a familiar voice called out sometime later.
I woke with a start. Must have fallen asleep. I looked around, but I could only see Tom, no
t Anna. Were all women invisible to me? I thought as I stood to stretch. Falling asleep on a rock was not the most comfortable of positions.
"What?" I asked. Cleared my throat and tried again. Same result. High. What was wrong with my voice?
Tom grinned at me, for some reason the smile sent my heart racing. That stupid dream! I am not interested in Tom like that! As he approached, I found myself shrinking back into the rock. An odd reaction.
Not as odd as a few moments later when Tom's arms wrapped around me and his lips crushed against mine. What the hell? I should have smacked him. Beat his shoulders until he let me go, but I melted into the kiss. My first kiss. And it was a guy. This was not the way I envisioned it. Not at all. But warmth spread from my midsection sending tingles washing through my body.
When Tom finally set me down—apparently, he'd picked me off my feet—I almost collapsed, but his arms were still supporting me. Lucky me.
"Thank you, Anna," Tom said.
Uh. "What?" I said. I ran a hand through my hair, a nervous gesture my master had suggested I get rid of before something bad happened. I'm not sure what could have happened. I doubt he predicted what I discovered. To help prevent accidents, I kept my hair short. My hand encountered long, thick hair. I pulled it forward. Red, as red as red could get. Not the dull brown of my normal hair.
That might have been the least of the problems. The hand holding the hair was much smaller than my normal one. I'd expected changes, no question. But I was supposed to be bigger! Not smaller. I got so wrapped up in my observations that I missed what Tom said. It only registered on me a moment later.
"Could you repeat that," I said in my new higher voice. Why did I have red hair? Why did I have small hands?
"Thank you for fucking John, he doesn't like to talk about it, but his virginity was making him depressed."
Why would I fuck myself? I wouldn't. I felt the blood leave my face. Tom clearly spoke to me, yet just as obviously was not speaking to me. So... he must be seeing someone else.
