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Goku makes a wish to give Chi-Chi a happy anniversary.
Things escalate from there!
Things escalate from there!
by
MagicLottie
· 03 Apr 2023
Goku makes a wish to give Chi-Chi a happy anniversary.Things escalate from there!
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Marisa found herself unusually stiff one morning, after a successful 'borrowing' run from the manor's library the previous night.She paid it no mind, though. After all, an ordinary magician like her had aches and pains every now and then.If only she'd noticed the string slowly extending from her wrist before it was too late...Support works like this on: https://www.patreon.com/MagicLottie
The first day of the week was nothing special, humans in the village would stir, youkai would either be waiting to see how their mischief would be reacted too or were hiding. Shrine maidens, in theory, would be up early to welcome the early morning visitors.
And of course, A certain trio of magicians would be nursing headaches for various reasons. Patchouli Knowledge, Magician of the Scarlet Devil Manor, would be nursing one due to her asthma keeping her awake. Alice Margatroid would be nursing one from staying up too late to make sure all her dolls were in the best condition.
And Marisa Kirisame, would be nursing one from being flung into a wall due to an early morning heist. With a certain maid effortlessly throwing her battered body off the premises in defeat. After all, the guard of the manor still had to deal with unpleasant morning business. So, with knives and magical bullets clashing, the ordinary magician was quickly removed from the premises, stab wounds and all to break the relative silence surrounding the Manor.
And that’s how she left, nothing borrowed, stab wounds and a killer headache from hitting her head on at least five trees. But that was something she could fix, once she made it back to her home. Which was a short flight away from the manor, after all, how could she effectively borrow things. But she had things to deal with the injuries at home.
Her house was a complete disaster, with how many things she borrowed most of her rooms were stuffed to the brim with random magical items. But there were two things she always kept tabs on where they were. A machine that brewed a live giving elixir, and her witch’s cauldron, where she would prepare something to heal her. Did she know how the machine worked? No. but she had managed to get it working, and that was the important part.
It produced a miracle liquid, something called coffee, and whatever it was, it was a hell of a drug. But even that wouldn’t fix Marisa’s concussion and bruised ribs. No, that was what magic mushrooms were for. Brewed up into a healing salve in the middle of her war zone of a house, thanks to how many items she had ‘borrowed’ over the years. Items that she would take for an unstated length of time but promise to return them ‘when she dies.’
Kicked the bucket, passed on, pining for the fjords or exiting stage left, as some may say. But that was neither here nor there. As she was very much not dead, nor an ex-magician in any sense of the phrase. But that didn’t mean she didn’t have a weakness to dozens of knives being thrown at her out of thin air, or not being allowed to ‘borrow’ peoples things.
“Why do I always forget that guard is late in the morning…” the magician grumbled as she nursed various stab wounds on her legs. “Why don’t they get that I’ll give this stuff back? It’s simple! They don’t need to be so stingy…”
She sighed and went back to patching up her wounds. It wouldn’t take long, but now her entire week was thrown off. She planned to ste-‘borrow’ some books from Patchouli, maybe fly to a bakery in the human village and get something before going and relaxing in a hot spring for the evening. It was going to be a perfect Monday, but naturally, people don’t like things being taken without permission. Even if they’d get them back, eventually.
But for now, the Ordinary magician decided to just go on with the rest of her plans, get something sweet from a baker and go about her day. And yes, she would pay for a baked good, you can’t return food in any way that matters if you borrow it.
The money however, that was prime borrowing material. She couldn’t visit Reimu, after all, the shrine maiden was usually out of money to swipe. The manor was out, one attempt a week was already bad enough for her health. But there was someone nearby who wouldn’t miss a couple bundles of coin.
Elsewhere in the Forest of Magic, Alice Margatroid was waking up. Again, for the second time that morning. Headaches due to sleeping issues aren’t fun after all. Her dolls were already making some tea for her to enjoy while the cool morning air was around. So, she hummed, changed out of her crafting clothes, and readied herself.
“Shanghai,” she said, motioning to one of the dolls. “Can you bring me a list of what I need to find today, please?” There was a small pause as the doll flew around the main living area, before finding a small scroll perfect for the doll’s hands.
The doll gave a small cheer as it received a gentle pat on the head as thanks. It floated for a moment before dashing around the room, happy that it accomplished its first task of the day. There was of course, more to do, and Alice was just glad she could automate her dolls to some extent.
It made weeding much less time consuming. Especially since she had to keep people out of the forest, if only to keep them safe from Medicine and her poison dolls. But routine was setting in now, and unfortunately, that meant that Alice was counting down the minutes until her security dolls would activate.
After all, it’s much harder to be robbed when you know they’re coming. Naturally, she sipped her tea and waited, and waited, and waited.
“Marisa’s late.” She grumbled, now realizing she needed to get a move on for her day. “Dears, can you watch the house today?” she said to her dolls, all responding by grabbing various forms of impalement and pain delivery. “That’s goo-”
“Hey Alice!” Marisa shouted, clearly trying to judge what the minimum safe distance from her abode was. “Can I borrow some money?”
“…we have an imposter. Open fire.” The magician responded, letting her dolls launch to assault what she thought was Marisa through the window. The subsequent screams and sounds of counter fire did make the magician wonder if this was an imposter, but with how long she had known one of her regular guests for tea. It was unlikely.
“Thanks for the money.” Marisa said, getting tea all over Alice’s sitting room as the borrow crazy magician left. “By the way, that’s Cirno you’re blasting.”
“C-Cease fire!” Alice yelled, trying to redirect her dolls to stop blasting the fairy and try to focus on Marisa. But it was too late, Marisa had already flown out the open window and was quickly a speck on the horizon. Alice took a deep breath, and looked around, needing to ensure it was only a few measly coins than anything important. And that’s when something caught her eye.
“I’ll return it when I’m dead” was written on a note, right on one of the fancier doll display cabinets. Except the note was affixed to a rock, which was sitting on broken glass, next to another note. “Sorry!”
“KIRASAMEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”
She was totally going to pay at the next get together, Marisa knew that for a fact. But these coins weren’t going to spend themselves. So really, she felt she was doing Alice a favor. After all, her associate magician can make most of her materials by hand, so money shouldn’t even be a concern really.
But, as people outside of Gensokyo say, this was the straw that broke the camel's back. Both other women were, frankly, very tired of having to keep track of what had been ‘borrowed’ from them. Books, clothes, even something more private in Patchouli’s case. And that really was the last straw.
“Meiling,” Alice said, looking at the guard of the Scarlet Devil manor, asleep but not really asleep. “Sakuya is walking towards you.”
“I’m awake!” the woman said, standing upright and looking fully alert. “Oh. Miss Margatroid, what brings you to the manor?”
“I can’t believe that strategy worked,” Alice said as she shook her head. “Your mistress hasn’t penned me an invitation, but I need to speak with Lady Patchouli. It’s about our mutual pain in the neck.” Being formal with allies when trying to create a battle plan was a key part of this strategy.
“Well,” Meiling said, looking around, momentarily confused as to why Sakuya was not in fact walking towards them. “You are asking for permission, and Marisa already was thrown out by Lady Sakuya. All right, I’ll see if you can enter.”
“Thank you, I will remain here until you return.” Alice said, knowing it wouldn’t take long for an answer. But this was the critical moment. Of course, she could simply go and take back what was stolen from her. It wouldn’t even be that challenging, she could just unleash more power and leave Marisa in a hospital for a month as everything was recovered.
But where was the fun in that? Overpowering an enemy with sheer force was Marisa’s style, not hers. No, payback required a more tactical approach this time.
So, she waited, and since this was an actual proper visit, it didn’t take long for her to be led inside by the maid of the manor to the massive library.
“Margatroid” Patchouli said, drinking tea either to help with her health or to nurse a headache. Or both. “If I let logic dictate why you’re here. It’s Marisa, isn’t it.”
“Naturally,” Alice sighed, making sure to distance herself from the bookworm. Her poor health meant that her familiar would need to disinfect any proper visitors. “Lavender?”
“It’s calming.” Patchouli said as she waved Koakuma off to go back to work. “And is refreshing when I can’t go outside.”
“Has your research into treatments been going well?” Alice knew the answer was no, but it felt important to check in on her friend.
“You know the answer,” Patchouli coughed, motioning that she was okay, and some tea had just gone down the wrong way. “Chronic issues are difficult to solve. Doctors appreciate my findings however.”
“Then I must ask, is this a ‘good’ day? Or should I come back another time?”
“It’s a ‘good’ day. I’ve been having more of them lately.”
“Good. You deserve those good days.”
“Now then, this is about Marisa?”
“Indeed, this is about Marisa.” Alice sighed, knowing that Patchouli was really the one that had to deal with the thieving mage more than anyone. “She decided to ‘borrow’ money from me, and nearly destroyed an entire display case in the process.”
“She has crossed the line far too much,” Patchouli sighed, stretching as best she could. “She even stole my hot water bottle, the audacity.”
“Really? Isn’t that in your bedchamber?” there was a pause as the bookworm realized what she just said. “Why was she in there? Or is it none of my concern?”
“Right now, it is none of your concern, and that’s what makes it audacious.” The librarian said, her cheeks flushing just a small bit. “Stealing from a bedroom, how dare she. I mean, who even does that?”
“Then, what say we take something of hers, just for a little while?” the puppeteer said, taking out a journal with her plan inside. “Transformation magic is temporary, and maybe it will make her behave like a proper Magician.”
“It will take more than being turned into a toad for a fort night for her to get the message.” Patchouli said, intrigued as the book was carefully placed on her reading stand. “So, how are you escalating this with her?”
“First, we need bait.” Alice sighed, knowing that would mean putting something rare or mysterious in harm's way. “Then, we need to prepare and ready ourselves to be patient.”
And that was the start of the plan, as the two women discussed what they needed to do, and what they needed to accomplish it. It was mid-morning when Alice arrived, and the dead of night was when she departed.
Marisa would face some comeuppance. And they only hoped that it would be enough to get her to change. Or at least stop stealing from them.
The first day of the week was nothing special, humans in the village would stir, youkai would either be waiting to see how their mischief would be reacted too or were hiding. Shrine maidens, in theory, would be up early to welcome the early morning visitors.
And of course, A certain trio of magicians would be nursing headaches for various reasons. Patchouli Knowledge, Magician of the Scarlet Devil Manor, would be nursing one due to her asthma keeping her awake. Alice Margatroid would be nursing one from staying up too late to make sure all her dolls were in the best condition.
And Marisa Kirisame, would be nursing one from being flung into a wall due to an early morning heist. With a certain maid effortlessly throwing her battered body off the premises in defeat. After all, the guard of the manor still had to deal with unpleasant morning business. So, with knives and magical bullets clashing, the ordinary magician was quickly removed from the premises, stab wounds and all to break the relative silence surrounding the Manor.
And that’s how she left, nothing borrowed, stab wounds and a killer headache from hitting her head on at least five trees. But that was something she could fix, once she made it back to her home. Which was a short flight away from the manor, after all, how could she effectively borrow things. But she had things to deal with the injuries at home.
Her house was a complete disaster, with how many things she borrowed most of her rooms were stuffed to the brim with random magical items. But there were two things she always kept tabs on where they were. A machine that brewed a live giving elixir, and her witch’s cauldron, where she would prepare something to heal her. Did she know how the machine worked? No. but she had managed to get it working, and that was the important part.
It produced a miracle liquid, something called coffee, and whatever it was, it was a hell of a drug. But even that wouldn’t fix Marisa’s concussion and bruised ribs. No, that was what magic mushrooms were for. Brewed up into a healing salve in the middle of her war zone of a house, thanks to how many items she had ‘borrowed’ over the years. Items that she would take for an unstated length of time but promise to return them ‘when she dies.’
Kicked the bucket, passed on, pining for the fjords or exiting stage left, as some may say. But that was neither here nor there. As she was very much not dead, nor an ex-magician in any sense of the phrase. But that didn’t mean she didn’t have a weakness to dozens of knives being thrown at her out of thin air, or not being allowed to ‘borrow’ peoples things.
“Why do I always forget that guard is late in the morning…” the magician grumbled as she nursed various stab wounds on her legs. “Why don’t they get that I’ll give this stuff back? It’s simple! They don’t need to be so stingy…”
She sighed and went back to patching up her wounds. It wouldn’t take long, but now her entire week was thrown off. She planned to ste-‘borrow’ some books from Patchouli, maybe fly to a bakery in the human village and get something before going and relaxing in a hot spring for the evening. It was going to be a perfect Monday, but naturally, people don’t like things being taken without permission. Even if they’d get them back, eventually.
But for now, the Ordinary magician decided to just go on with the rest of her plans, get something sweet from a baker and go about her day. And yes, she would pay for a baked good, you can’t return food in any way that matters if you borrow it.
The money however, that was prime borrowing material. She couldn’t visit Reimu, after all, the shrine maiden was usually out of money to swipe. The manor was out, one attempt a week was already bad enough for her health. But there was someone nearby who wouldn’t miss a couple bundles of coin.
Elsewhere in the Forest of Magic, Alice Margatroid was waking up. Again, for the second time that morning. Headaches due to sleeping issues aren’t fun after all. Her dolls were already making some tea for her to enjoy while the cool morning air was around. So, she hummed, changed out of her crafting clothes, and readied herself.
“Shanghai,” she said, motioning to one of the dolls. “Can you bring me a list of what I need to find today, please?” There was a small pause as the doll flew around the main living area, before finding a small scroll perfect for the doll’s hands.
The doll gave a small cheer as it received a gentle pat on the head as thanks. It floated for a moment before dashing around the room, happy that it accomplished its first task of the day. There was of course, more to do, and Alice was just glad she could automate her dolls to some extent.
It made weeding much less time consuming. Especially since she had to keep people out of the forest, if only to keep them safe from Medicine and her poison dolls. But routine was setting in now, and unfortunately, that meant that Alice was counting down the minutes until her security dolls would activate.
After all, it’s much harder to be robbed when you know they’re coming. Naturally, she sipped her tea and waited, and waited, and waited.
“Marisa’s late.” She grumbled, now realizing she needed to get a move on for her day. “Dears, can you watch the house today?” she said to her dolls, all responding by grabbing various forms of impalement and pain delivery. “That’s goo-”
“Hey Alice!” Marisa shouted, clearly trying to judge what the minimum safe distance from her abode was. “Can I borrow some money?”
“…we have an imposter. Open fire.” The magician responded, letting her dolls launch to assault what she thought was Marisa through the window. The subsequent screams and sounds of counter fire did make the magician wonder if this was an imposter, but with how long she had known one of her regular guests for tea. It was unlikely.
“Thanks for the money.” Marisa said, getting tea all over Alice’s sitting room as the borrow crazy magician left. “By the way, that’s Cirno you’re blasting.”
“C-Cease fire!” Alice yelled, trying to redirect her dolls to stop blasting the fairy and try to focus on Marisa. But it was too late, Marisa had already flown out the open window and was quickly a speck on the horizon. Alice took a deep breath, and looked around, needing to ensure it was only a few measly coins than anything important. And that’s when something caught her eye.
“I’ll return it when I’m dead” was written on a note, right on one of the fancier doll display cabinets. Except the note was affixed to a rock, which was sitting on broken glass, next to another note. “Sorry!”
“KIRASAMEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”
She was totally going to pay at the next get together, Marisa knew that for a fact. But these coins weren’t going to spend themselves. So really, she felt she was doing Alice a favor. After all, her associate magician can make most of her materials by hand, so money shouldn’t even be a concern really.
But, as people outside of Gensokyo say, this was the straw that broke the camel's back. Both other women were, frankly, very tired of having to keep track of what had been ‘borrowed’ from them. Books, clothes, even something more private in Patchouli’s case. And that really was the last straw.
“Meiling,” Alice said, looking at the guard of the Scarlet Devil manor, asleep but not really asleep. “Sakuya is walking towards you.”
“I’m awake!” the woman said, standing upright and looking fully alert. “Oh. Miss Margatroid, what brings you to the manor?”
“I can’t believe that strategy worked,” Alice said as she shook her head. “Your mistress hasn’t penned me an invitation, but I need to speak with Lady Patchouli. It’s about our mutual pain in the neck.” Being formal with allies when trying to create a battle plan was a key part of this strategy.
“Well,” Meiling said, looking around, momentarily confused as to why Sakuya was not in fact walking towards them. “You are asking for permission, and Marisa already was thrown out by Lady Sakuya. All right, I’ll see if you can enter.”
“Thank you, I will remain here until you return.” Alice said, knowing it wouldn’t take long for an answer. But this was the critical moment. Of course, she could simply go and take back what was stolen from her. It wouldn’t even be that challenging, she could just unleash more power and leave Marisa in a hospital for a month as everything was recovered.
But where was the fun in that? Overpowering an enemy with sheer force was Marisa’s style, not hers. No, payback required a more tactical approach this time.
So, she waited, and since this was an actual proper visit, it didn’t take long for her to be led inside by the maid of the manor to the massive library.
“Margatroid” Patchouli said, drinking tea either to help with her health or to nurse a headache. Or both. “If I let logic dictate why you’re here. It’s Marisa, isn’t it.”
“Naturally,” Alice sighed, making sure to distance herself from the bookworm. Her poor health meant that her familiar would need to disinfect any proper visitors. “Lavender?”
“It’s calming.” Patchouli said as she waved Koakuma off to go back to work. “And is refreshing when I can’t go outside.”
“Has your research into treatments been going well?” Alice knew the answer was no, but it felt important to check in on her friend.
“You know the answer,” Patchouli coughed, motioning that she was okay, and some tea had just gone down the wrong way. “Chronic issues are difficult to solve. Doctors appreciate my findings however.”
“Then I must ask, is this a ‘good’ day? Or should I come back another time?”
“It’s a ‘good’ day. I’ve been having more of them lately.”
“Good. You deserve those good days.”
“Now then, this is about Marisa?”
“Indeed, this is about Marisa.” Alice sighed, knowing that Patchouli was really the one that had to deal with the thieving mage more than anyone. “She decided to ‘borrow’ money from me, and nearly destroyed an entire display case in the process.”
“She has crossed the line far too much,” Patchouli sighed, stretching as best she could. “She even stole my hot water bottle, the audacity.”
“Really? Isn’t that in your bedchamber?” there was a pause as the bookworm realized what she just said. “Why was she in there? Or is it none of my concern?”
“Right now, it is none of your concern, and that’s what makes it audacious.” The librarian said, her cheeks flushing just a small bit. “Stealing from a bedroom, how dare she. I mean, who even does that?”
“Then, what say we take something of hers, just for a little while?” the puppeteer said, taking out a journal with her plan inside. “Transformation magic is temporary, and maybe it will make her behave like a proper Magician.”
“It will take more than being turned into a toad for a fort night for her to get the message.” Patchouli said, intrigued as the book was carefully placed on her reading stand. “So, how are you escalating this with her?”
“First, we need bait.” Alice sighed, knowing that would mean putting something rare or mysterious in harm's way. “Then, we need to prepare and ready ourselves to be patient.”
And that was the start of the plan, as the two women discussed what they needed to do, and what they needed to accomplish it. It was mid-morning when Alice arrived, and the dead of night was when she departed.
Marisa would face some comeuppance. And they only hoped that it would be enough to get her to change. Or at least stop stealing from them.
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In a world where body swapping is commonplace, Aaron and Miranda both find out something was changed when they were born. Now, on nothing more than a hunch, they start to get their own bodies back.
Technology was ever advancing, allowing modifications and things that were once only dreamed of in science fiction. While it wasn’t for the most ethical of reasons, eventually the technology to transfer consciousness between human bodies was created, decommissioned, re-commissioned and tested.
Naturally, the science and technology behind the body swapping was used primarily to assist people with mismatched bodies in some way or another. Though that was only recently. For a longer than it should’ve been time, some people used it when their child wasn’t quite as they were expecting. Parents who wanted a son would often swap with parents who wanted a daughter, and vice versa.
This naturally was stopped as soon as possible. The ramifications to a child’s mental health were too high risk. Especially if they found out what had happened to them as infants. Now, exceptions were made for the health of the infant, but naturally this allowed things to slip through the cracks.
However, by the miracle of humanity pulling its collective head out of its collective ass for once, there were no scars and if a child did go through the process, it was reversable. So, now that the process had become commonplace, everyone was likely to know someone who had at least part of their body swapped. Some used it in place of difficult surgeries, some used it for fun.
But that was the reality of today. In year 20XX where humanity had managed to make something cool for once. The concept of the self was more malleable than it had ever been, more flexible and fluid. Humans were their own playthings now, at least to a point.
But for some, there was a feeling that something wasn’t right. Not in the traditional sense of dysphoria or dysmorphia, those were now easily solvable, but in the sense that something wasn’t as it should’ve been. That nagging feeling of discomfort was just something that Aaron couldn’t shake. At home, at school or anywhere really.
The teenager had initially chalked it up to those awkward growing pains. Since he couldn’t place the discomfort, he had chosen to ignore it. But it was still there, ever present in the back of his mind, and nothing he tried was helping.
At least in school he could distract himself by trying to pay attention to science lectures in class. They weren’t boring by any means; it was just the same things repeated day in and day out. So, he let his eyes wander, his mind following suit, and it settled on someone else in the room.
A girl just a few desks away from him. Miranda was her name and as Aaron’s friends would tease him about. He was down bad. If he wasn’t trying to deal with whatever was going on with that nagging discomfort. He was trying to think of what games Miranda liked, or what she would want to do if he asked her out and said yes.
Miranda, however, was doing the same thing Aaron was. At least she would if having an eye on the back of your head was still legal. They had exchanged exactly one sentence with each other, both teens could remember it perfectly.
“Charizard is overrated.” Aaron had said during one of the many times a teacher had been running late. Which Miranda has overheard.
“Yeah, Blastoise is better.” she had responded, both nodded at each other, then went back to their own business. If clichés were able to physically manifest, it was love at first nerd. It had been over a year since then and they had managed to accidentally pick most of the same classes.
Eventually their friends had had enough and got them sitting right across from each other one lunch time. Hoping that this would actually let them talk to one another. The awkward teen romance was becoming hell for everyone, as even that attempt barely got them talking to each other.
“I don’t know...” Miranda said to one of her friends after another attempt at this. “It feels like... something’s off?”
“I don’t know why?” Aaron said, mirroring that sentiment with his own friends. “Whenever I try to talk the words get stuck in my throat. It’s really annoying.”
“You’re telling me,” Their friends would say, but eventually the attempts stopped. If it was going to happen it would just have to rely on them not getting stuck on what to say. So, they stopped, and eventually say them ever so slowly say more than single word answers to one another.
“Hey...” Aaron eventually said, managing to get words out of his throat. “You uh, look good?’ Miranda looked at him with a million-yard stare in response, like something had just forcefully inserted a Lego brick under her foot.
“Thanks...” she responded, trying her best to not blush. “You, too.” her response got a similar feeling out of Aaron, and neither of them knew why. It just made it more awkward, if that was even possible.
They tried again, but both had that same strange feeling. Not that either of them was hiding something, but something that matched up with that strange discomfort in the back of their minds. Each time they tried to talk outside of a class they just froze.
“Why can’t we talk?” Aaron had written on a note, trying to see if that was going to cause the same thing. He slid it over to Miranda and got a response back.
“No idea, maybe it’s something about our voices?” the note said, with a little drawing of a shrugging cat under it.
“it’s the only thing that makes sense I guess?” Aaron wrote back. The thought of their voices throwing them off was a possibility, but a weird one at that. The bell rang before they could try to piece anything else together, meaning they had to try and focus for the last class of the day.
That night however, both teens decided to look into things. The idea of their voices triggering something uncomfortable was too weird of an idea to shake. A couple hours of searching online brought them to the same conclusion.
“Body and Aspect Swapping. If the process is done incorrectly or too early, the recipients of the swap may experience mild to severe anxiety when meeting with the recipient of the traded aspects.” several articles reported on. The idea of having it done too early was a strange one, but that’s what the restrictions on the process were for. Though, the dates were strange, and both of the teens realized it and opened their emails.
“Did we switch bodies?” they both sent within seconds of the other. “Holy crap we did, didn’t we?”
“Does that mean I was a guy?” Miranda said, not hating the idea and finding some comfort in it that she didn’t quite understand yet.
“I was a girl? Awesome!” Aaron said, something in the back of his mind clicking at that revelation. They quickly started sharing that detail to one another in emails, back and forth. They agreed that this was just something they would’ve found out sooner or later but needed to think of what to do. After all, their parents probably didn’t want to bring it up, let alone have it be brought up to them.
Both teens knew their parents weren’t the type to do it out of malice, that was the one comfort for this. But they wanted the truth. So, it needed to be addressed before the school week resumed.
Each one started the same way with their parents. Asking to speak to their parents in the living room with a bit of printed out information. And for both teens, their parents knew the jig was up the second they saw the papers.
“There were...” one of them would start. The similar story being matched up later. “Complications.” That wasn’t surprising, even if it was before the practice was completely limited to emergencies, swapping infant bodies was used as an attempt to save children.
What no one expected was a mathematic formula of how convoluted the entire procedure was so no laws were violated and all parties involved were kept healthy.
“So... where did the clown come in?” the teens asked, very confused as they looked at pictures taken of the entire procedure.
“The doctor was on call and didn’t have time to wipe the makeup off.” The parents responded, admittedly realizing how bizarre that situation was in hindsight. “It was... a bigger mess than they thought.”
“How many kids were involved in this?” the teens asked, wondering how much of their bodies were on a technical level someone else's.
“We needed at least seven, it was a lot of parts being changed due to blood types and compatibility.” the parents said, taking some time to get the documents out for their kid to look over. “It... was tricky to bring up, and we’re sorry we didn’t tell you sooner.”
“Thanks.” both teens said, looking at the forms.
“So why was I a guy then?” Aaron asked.
“Why a girl?” Miranda asked.
“That... is just how it shook out to be honest.” the parents responded. Trying to find any documents that could help them or their child. “Those parts had to be changed from other kids, and we agreed that if you wanted to change. Well. We'd support you.”
“I need to think on this.” both teens said, turning down the offer of hugs as they went to their rooms.
“How’d yours go?” Aaron asked, trying to not have a kneejerk response. “I... need to think on what to do.”
“Smoother than I expected.” Miranda replied a few minutes later. “Take some time to think, I already know what I want to do.”
“Already?” Aaron responded, frankly surprised his crush had a plan already. “Lucky. No wonder you get better grades.”
“Hey, I can always help you study after this.” Miranda responded. “Just, need to not freeze up when we speak.”
“Yeah, that makes it harder.” Aaron replied.
They went to bed soon after that, with Miranda already knowing what he wanted to do. He fell asleep within a few minutes. Aaron was struggling more, he... didn’t hate his body, but the idea of being a girl was too exciting to deny. Even if they both knew their bodies didn’t affect what their genders were.
It was the most awkward breakfast the next morning. Mostly since the parents were, frankly, expecting more than a quiet acknowledgment of what happened. But the morning went like most others, a tired good morning, breakfast, and both teens sitting in their rooms afterwards.
“I want to swap some things back with you.” Aaron wrote, sending the email before self-doubt could stop it. The teen waited for a while, or rather, what felt like a while. The seconds crawled by with a brutal lack of urgency.
“I was thinking the same thing,” Miranda wrote back. His email response only pausing as he tried to think of something. “Call me Joey now, by the way.”
“So, we’re on the same page,” Aaron responded. “Why Joey?”
“Dunno, seemed to fit.”
“Fair.” Aaron laughed, not bothering with the beating around the bush of trying to justify mistakes on his name. “You seem really prepared for this.”
“Hey, if we get this figured out then we don’t need to worry about it later.” Joey’s response had a big thumbs up on it. “Plus, did your parents have those forms? Mine did and I read through them with breakfast. We can schedule a change easily.”
“Couldn’t focus, but that’s good to know.” Aaron responded, the idea of what names she would pick from were starting to bubble up. “How soon?”
“Next weekend is open to schedule.” Joey replied, sending the website and needed formed. “We just need to agree on what’s being changed.”
“Want your shoulders back?” Aaron said, including a gif of a dog laughing. “Do we have to do this all-in-one go?”
“Hey, it’ll work better for me.” Joey responded. “And I don’t think so? One of my dad's mentioned it could take a couple sessions to get it right.” there was a sigh of relief from Aaron at that. Even if Joey wanted to rush forward, it didn’t sound like he was going to force Aaron to do the same.
“Screw it,” he replied after downloading the forms. “I want the longer hair.”
“Shoulders for hair? Sounds like a fair trade,” was the response. “Anything else?”
“Take my testosterone, please.” Was Aaron’s reply. “And why aren’t we using a chat room?”
“Didn’t think of it,” was Joeys response. Both teens swapping to a chatroom to hash out what was going to be swapped with what.
The parents weren’t ecstatic about it being done, but thankfully if it was reversable now, it would be reversable later. The appointments were made, documents were signed and the next weekend, both teens were ready to go.
Frankly, the procedure had machines right out of a horror movie. But both teens soon were unconscious, and everything started to go to work. Mass was transferred, body shape was altered, and those weird cramps you get in your feet were dealt with.
This was the first time they did this. A general one to allow them to see what they wanted to keep.
Joey loved the fact that now he wasn’t expected to wear skirts. He did so anyway because an entirely new closet of clothes was expensive, and it annoyed people. His hair was short and rough when they both came out of the first session.
Aaron was still picking out her name and had to fight her dads and Joey’s parents to get a dress that no longer fit her crush. Instead of the short buzzcut for simplicities sake, she was now sporting long blonde and pink hair. Right down to her shoulders.
“So...” Aaron started, expecting her voice to give out like it had before when talking to Joey in person. “...what now?” it had been three weeks since the first swap, everything had healed, and Joey had already swooned over Aaron suplexing a bully at school. “I still... like you.”
“Well, we can figure that out.” Joey had grinned, getting Aaron to blush at his smile. “How do you feel about your, old body? I guess?”
“it’s familiar?” Aaron said, trying to hide her blush. “But... not too familiar? Like I can grow into it.” she looked at her hands, a little shocked at how much softer her features had been becoming. Even after the swap her features just got smoother. A doctor mentioned her body was going to be overcompensating for a while on balancing her hormones out.
“Same, I wonder if I'll get taller?” Joey laughed, taking advantage of Aaron looking at her hands to let himself blush. He was definitely feeling the same side effects of the transfer. A level of machismo was hitting him, and aside from noticing girls more, he swore he could take a bear in a fight.
Apparently, this was a near universal male instinct to try and think of an animal they could beat up. Even if logic said they would lose. But it definitely felt better for him as a person. School had been going well, their friends were just glad the awkward teen romance could move past the awkward stage more than worrying about their genders and bodies.
Also seeing the first person to try and start shit wind up with a bloody nose was a very good deterrent. Especially since it was at the first provocation, no one would mess with someone if there was an immediate consequence for doing so.
But the school year went on, and despite the awkward phase staying far longer than anyone would’ve predicted. Eventually Aaron chose Dot as a new name, Joey was still dressing in any way he wanted, skirts and dresses some days but jeans and tank tops other days.
A walking middle finger to the people who still would hold onto his pronouns determining how he was allowed to dress. Meanwhile Dot was going all in on femme fashion, her dads even ordering frilly fancy Lolita style dresses that she would wear on weekends while playing games. The dissonance between her playing Doom and dressed like she was supposed to be a princess was something Joey couldn’t get enough of.
And that was something that, after literally so many events that should’ve pushed them together, it happened at the last possible moment of high school. With their friends celebrating just for the mental relief of not having to picture the two dumbasses not being together when they should've been.
The cream pies being thrown at them was definitely their revenge for the years of indecisiveness after an immediate connection. Everyone was laughing as pie filling was being cleaned off the pair, their friend groups ribbing them endlessly as they finally had their first kiss.
At least, first one that didn’t result in literal butting heads due to a height difference. Or a phone going of, or any other number of perfectly timed mood killers. Both of them were, frankly, happier, even if they didn’t realize they were unhappy before. The weight of discomfort they’d both been experiencing hadn’t bothered them for the last years of high school, and they certainly weren’t going to bother them in the future.
“So... what next?” Dot said, still picking bits of pie out of her pink and blonde hair. She didn’t even remember what she asked her natural hair color to be at this point. “More school? Work?”
“How about an actual first date,” Joey chuckled, knowing his prom suit and dress were going to have stains on them for years. “Unless you want to count when I schooled you at the arcade?”
“You mean where I kicked your ass?” Dot teased, flicking a bit of pie off her dress onto Joey’s shoes. “Someone doesn’t remember how many tokens you spent on me.”
“Fine, rematch!” Joey laughed, sending a bit of pie back at Dot. “And then a date!”
“Works for me!” Dot laughed as they resumed the pie slinging until they were forcibly stopped by their parents.
Technology was ever advancing, allowing modifications and things that were once only dreamed of in science fiction. While it wasn’t for the most ethical of reasons, eventually the technology to transfer consciousness between human bodies was created, decommissioned, re-commissioned and tested.
Naturally, the science and technology behind the body swapping was used primarily to assist people with mismatched bodies in some way or another. Though that was only recently. For a longer than it should’ve been time, some people used it when their child wasn’t quite as they were expecting. Parents who wanted a son would often swap with parents who wanted a daughter, and vice versa.
This naturally was stopped as soon as possible. The ramifications to a child’s mental health were too high risk. Especially if they found out what had happened to them as infants. Now, exceptions were made for the health of the infant, but naturally this allowed things to slip through the cracks.
However, by the miracle of humanity pulling its collective head out of its collective ass for once, there were no scars and if a child did go through the process, it was reversable. So, now that the process had become commonplace, everyone was likely to know someone who had at least part of their body swapped. Some used it in place of difficult surgeries, some used it for fun.
But that was the reality of today. In year 20XX where humanity had managed to make something cool for once. The concept of the self was more malleable than it had ever been, more flexible and fluid. Humans were their own playthings now, at least to a point.
But for some, there was a feeling that something wasn’t right. Not in the traditional sense of dysphoria or dysmorphia, those were now easily solvable, but in the sense that something wasn’t as it should’ve been. That nagging feeling of discomfort was just something that Aaron couldn’t shake. At home, at school or anywhere really.
The teenager had initially chalked it up to those awkward growing pains. Since he couldn’t place the discomfort, he had chosen to ignore it. But it was still there, ever present in the back of his mind, and nothing he tried was helping.
At least in school he could distract himself by trying to pay attention to science lectures in class. They weren’t boring by any means; it was just the same things repeated day in and day out. So, he let his eyes wander, his mind following suit, and it settled on someone else in the room.
A girl just a few desks away from him. Miranda was her name and as Aaron’s friends would tease him about. He was down bad. If he wasn’t trying to deal with whatever was going on with that nagging discomfort. He was trying to think of what games Miranda liked, or what she would want to do if he asked her out and said yes.
Miranda, however, was doing the same thing Aaron was. At least she would if having an eye on the back of your head was still legal. They had exchanged exactly one sentence with each other, both teens could remember it perfectly.
“Charizard is overrated.” Aaron had said during one of the many times a teacher had been running late. Which Miranda has overheard.
“Yeah, Blastoise is better.” she had responded, both nodded at each other, then went back to their own business. If clichés were able to physically manifest, it was love at first nerd. It had been over a year since then and they had managed to accidentally pick most of the same classes.
Eventually their friends had had enough and got them sitting right across from each other one lunch time. Hoping that this would actually let them talk to one another. The awkward teen romance was becoming hell for everyone, as even that attempt barely got them talking to each other.
“I don’t know...” Miranda said to one of her friends after another attempt at this. “It feels like... something’s off?”
“I don’t know why?” Aaron said, mirroring that sentiment with his own friends. “Whenever I try to talk the words get stuck in my throat. It’s really annoying.”
“You’re telling me,” Their friends would say, but eventually the attempts stopped. If it was going to happen it would just have to rely on them not getting stuck on what to say. So, they stopped, and eventually say them ever so slowly say more than single word answers to one another.
“Hey...” Aaron eventually said, managing to get words out of his throat. “You uh, look good?’ Miranda looked at him with a million-yard stare in response, like something had just forcefully inserted a Lego brick under her foot.
“Thanks...” she responded, trying her best to not blush. “You, too.” her response got a similar feeling out of Aaron, and neither of them knew why. It just made it more awkward, if that was even possible.
They tried again, but both had that same strange feeling. Not that either of them was hiding something, but something that matched up with that strange discomfort in the back of their minds. Each time they tried to talk outside of a class they just froze.
“Why can’t we talk?” Aaron had written on a note, trying to see if that was going to cause the same thing. He slid it over to Miranda and got a response back.
“No idea, maybe it’s something about our voices?” the note said, with a little drawing of a shrugging cat under it.
“it’s the only thing that makes sense I guess?” Aaron wrote back. The thought of their voices throwing them off was a possibility, but a weird one at that. The bell rang before they could try to piece anything else together, meaning they had to try and focus for the last class of the day.
That night however, both teens decided to look into things. The idea of their voices triggering something uncomfortable was too weird of an idea to shake. A couple hours of searching online brought them to the same conclusion.
“Body and Aspect Swapping. If the process is done incorrectly or too early, the recipients of the swap may experience mild to severe anxiety when meeting with the recipient of the traded aspects.” several articles reported on. The idea of having it done too early was a strange one, but that’s what the restrictions on the process were for. Though, the dates were strange, and both of the teens realized it and opened their emails.
“Did we switch bodies?” they both sent within seconds of the other. “Holy crap we did, didn’t we?”
“Does that mean I was a guy?” Miranda said, not hating the idea and finding some comfort in it that she didn’t quite understand yet.
“I was a girl? Awesome!” Aaron said, something in the back of his mind clicking at that revelation. They quickly started sharing that detail to one another in emails, back and forth. They agreed that this was just something they would’ve found out sooner or later but needed to think of what to do. After all, their parents probably didn’t want to bring it up, let alone have it be brought up to them.
Both teens knew their parents weren’t the type to do it out of malice, that was the one comfort for this. But they wanted the truth. So, it needed to be addressed before the school week resumed.
Each one started the same way with their parents. Asking to speak to their parents in the living room with a bit of printed out information. And for both teens, their parents knew the jig was up the second they saw the papers.
“There were...” one of them would start. The similar story being matched up later. “Complications.” That wasn’t surprising, even if it was before the practice was completely limited to emergencies, swapping infant bodies was used as an attempt to save children.
What no one expected was a mathematic formula of how convoluted the entire procedure was so no laws were violated and all parties involved were kept healthy.
“So... where did the clown come in?” the teens asked, very confused as they looked at pictures taken of the entire procedure.
“The doctor was on call and didn’t have time to wipe the makeup off.” The parents responded, admittedly realizing how bizarre that situation was in hindsight. “It was... a bigger mess than they thought.”
“How many kids were involved in this?” the teens asked, wondering how much of their bodies were on a technical level someone else's.
“We needed at least seven, it was a lot of parts being changed due to blood types and compatibility.” the parents said, taking some time to get the documents out for their kid to look over. “It... was tricky to bring up, and we’re sorry we didn’t tell you sooner.”
“Thanks.” both teens said, looking at the forms.
“So why was I a guy then?” Aaron asked.
“Why a girl?” Miranda asked.
“That... is just how it shook out to be honest.” the parents responded. Trying to find any documents that could help them or their child. “Those parts had to be changed from other kids, and we agreed that if you wanted to change. Well. We'd support you.”
“I need to think on this.” both teens said, turning down the offer of hugs as they went to their rooms.
“How’d yours go?” Aaron asked, trying to not have a kneejerk response. “I... need to think on what to do.”
“Smoother than I expected.” Miranda replied a few minutes later. “Take some time to think, I already know what I want to do.”
“Already?” Aaron responded, frankly surprised his crush had a plan already. “Lucky. No wonder you get better grades.”
“Hey, I can always help you study after this.” Miranda responded. “Just, need to not freeze up when we speak.”
“Yeah, that makes it harder.” Aaron replied.
They went to bed soon after that, with Miranda already knowing what he wanted to do. He fell asleep within a few minutes. Aaron was struggling more, he... didn’t hate his body, but the idea of being a girl was too exciting to deny. Even if they both knew their bodies didn’t affect what their genders were.
It was the most awkward breakfast the next morning. Mostly since the parents were, frankly, expecting more than a quiet acknowledgment of what happened. But the morning went like most others, a tired good morning, breakfast, and both teens sitting in their rooms afterwards.
“I want to swap some things back with you.” Aaron wrote, sending the email before self-doubt could stop it. The teen waited for a while, or rather, what felt like a while. The seconds crawled by with a brutal lack of urgency.
“I was thinking the same thing,” Miranda wrote back. His email response only pausing as he tried to think of something. “Call me Joey now, by the way.”
“So, we’re on the same page,” Aaron responded. “Why Joey?”
“Dunno, seemed to fit.”
“Fair.” Aaron laughed, not bothering with the beating around the bush of trying to justify mistakes on his name. “You seem really prepared for this.”
“Hey, if we get this figured out then we don’t need to worry about it later.” Joey’s response had a big thumbs up on it. “Plus, did your parents have those forms? Mine did and I read through them with breakfast. We can schedule a change easily.”
“Couldn’t focus, but that’s good to know.” Aaron responded, the idea of what names she would pick from were starting to bubble up. “How soon?”
“Next weekend is open to schedule.” Joey replied, sending the website and needed formed. “We just need to agree on what’s being changed.”
“Want your shoulders back?” Aaron said, including a gif of a dog laughing. “Do we have to do this all-in-one go?”
“Hey, it’ll work better for me.” Joey responded. “And I don’t think so? One of my dad's mentioned it could take a couple sessions to get it right.” there was a sigh of relief from Aaron at that. Even if Joey wanted to rush forward, it didn’t sound like he was going to force Aaron to do the same.
“Screw it,” he replied after downloading the forms. “I want the longer hair.”
“Shoulders for hair? Sounds like a fair trade,” was the response. “Anything else?”
“Take my testosterone, please.” Was Aaron’s reply. “And why aren’t we using a chat room?”
“Didn’t think of it,” was Joeys response. Both teens swapping to a chatroom to hash out what was going to be swapped with what.
The parents weren’t ecstatic about it being done, but thankfully if it was reversable now, it would be reversable later. The appointments were made, documents were signed and the next weekend, both teens were ready to go.
Frankly, the procedure had machines right out of a horror movie. But both teens soon were unconscious, and everything started to go to work. Mass was transferred, body shape was altered, and those weird cramps you get in your feet were dealt with.
This was the first time they did this. A general one to allow them to see what they wanted to keep.
Joey loved the fact that now he wasn’t expected to wear skirts. He did so anyway because an entirely new closet of clothes was expensive, and it annoyed people. His hair was short and rough when they both came out of the first session.
Aaron was still picking out her name and had to fight her dads and Joey’s parents to get a dress that no longer fit her crush. Instead of the short buzzcut for simplicities sake, she was now sporting long blonde and pink hair. Right down to her shoulders.
“So...” Aaron started, expecting her voice to give out like it had before when talking to Joey in person. “...what now?” it had been three weeks since the first swap, everything had healed, and Joey had already swooned over Aaron suplexing a bully at school. “I still... like you.”
“Well, we can figure that out.” Joey had grinned, getting Aaron to blush at his smile. “How do you feel about your, old body? I guess?”
“it’s familiar?” Aaron said, trying to hide her blush. “But... not too familiar? Like I can grow into it.” she looked at her hands, a little shocked at how much softer her features had been becoming. Even after the swap her features just got smoother. A doctor mentioned her body was going to be overcompensating for a while on balancing her hormones out.
“Same, I wonder if I'll get taller?” Joey laughed, taking advantage of Aaron looking at her hands to let himself blush. He was definitely feeling the same side effects of the transfer. A level of machismo was hitting him, and aside from noticing girls more, he swore he could take a bear in a fight.
Apparently, this was a near universal male instinct to try and think of an animal they could beat up. Even if logic said they would lose. But it definitely felt better for him as a person. School had been going well, their friends were just glad the awkward teen romance could move past the awkward stage more than worrying about their genders and bodies.
Also seeing the first person to try and start shit wind up with a bloody nose was a very good deterrent. Especially since it was at the first provocation, no one would mess with someone if there was an immediate consequence for doing so.
But the school year went on, and despite the awkward phase staying far longer than anyone would’ve predicted. Eventually Aaron chose Dot as a new name, Joey was still dressing in any way he wanted, skirts and dresses some days but jeans and tank tops other days.
A walking middle finger to the people who still would hold onto his pronouns determining how he was allowed to dress. Meanwhile Dot was going all in on femme fashion, her dads even ordering frilly fancy Lolita style dresses that she would wear on weekends while playing games. The dissonance between her playing Doom and dressed like she was supposed to be a princess was something Joey couldn’t get enough of.
And that was something that, after literally so many events that should’ve pushed them together, it happened at the last possible moment of high school. With their friends celebrating just for the mental relief of not having to picture the two dumbasses not being together when they should've been.
The cream pies being thrown at them was definitely their revenge for the years of indecisiveness after an immediate connection. Everyone was laughing as pie filling was being cleaned off the pair, their friend groups ribbing them endlessly as they finally had their first kiss.
At least, first one that didn’t result in literal butting heads due to a height difference. Or a phone going of, or any other number of perfectly timed mood killers. Both of them were, frankly, happier, even if they didn’t realize they were unhappy before. The weight of discomfort they’d both been experiencing hadn’t bothered them for the last years of high school, and they certainly weren’t going to bother them in the future.
“So... what next?” Dot said, still picking bits of pie out of her pink and blonde hair. She didn’t even remember what she asked her natural hair color to be at this point. “More school? Work?”
“How about an actual first date,” Joey chuckled, knowing his prom suit and dress were going to have stains on them for years. “Unless you want to count when I schooled you at the arcade?”
“You mean where I kicked your ass?” Dot teased, flicking a bit of pie off her dress onto Joey’s shoes. “Someone doesn’t remember how many tokens you spent on me.”
“Fine, rematch!” Joey laughed, sending a bit of pie back at Dot. “And then a date!”
“Works for me!” Dot laughed as they resumed the pie slinging until they were forcibly stopped by their parents.
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Commissioned for Anonymous on Twitter, their OC Freja gaining a magical staff and dealing with the side effects.
The pursuit of magic was an endless one, for various reasons and goals. Some wanted power, to conquer and destroy. Others wanted to mend the world, bringing peace and joy. Some wanted prestige, fame and fortune abound. So naturally there was a cavalcade of motivations for people, some good and some ill.
And more than you’d expect were just plain selfish. Even if it was for a dare or to satisfy one's ego thousands would pursue it. Some ancient magi prepared for this and set up punishments for those who would rob graves or delve into tombs in a quest for power.
One such person was a powerful sorceress, Prinzessin Freja Von Rosenburg. A young woman gifted in the magical arts who naturally wanted to have the best of the best in terms of magical equipment and prestige. Naturally, however, this had led to a bit of an ego problem with the woman.
Born to a prince elect, having access to anything she could want and being talented in magic. It was a damning combination. Especially when she realized what she could force her way through due to her large personality and similarly large assets. Meaning it was a simple task to get adventurers hired to get what she wanted if it’d turn out to be a challenge.
And she did, a group of her servants and adventurers looking to move up socially were easy to buy. Especially for a dangerous place full of dust and dirt. Monsters were no issue, after all she was the most powerful person (in her own mind) in the world.
So, the traps had been sprung, the monsters had been blasted and she hadn’t even had to risk chipping a nail. Her entourage was exhausted, but the relic she wanted was right in front of her.
“Well, thanks to MY hard work,” She boasted, knowing the grumbles from her group were just proving how hard she worked. “We have our treasure!” and said treasure was now being held right against her body. The pink staff of some powerful mage she didn’t care to remember the name of.
“Ugh, how tacky.” she mumbled as she motioned for her entourage to start carrying her out. “Really? A heart? I heard this old fogy was cringe, but I didn’t think it’d be that bad.” She ignored the grumblings of her allies, since after all they should just be happy, she is letting them use this as experience and exposure. “Come on, move faster! Everything's dealt with and I am not chipping a nail!”
There was almost no resistance from any of the other adventurers, they all knew they would get paid one way or another. Even If the bratty woman who hired them didn’t want too. But nonetheless, it was a pain to carry someone out of a dungeon, almost worse than carrying them in.
The trip back was thankfully uneventful, other than more grumbling from the people who did most of the work.
“And now, adieu!” Freja laughed, leaving the adventurers on the doorstep as she took the artifact with her. The tired grumbles now leaving her mind as she admired her treasure in actual lighting. It certainly had an aura of powerful magic, maybe if she had bothered to pay attention to stories about the sorcerer who used it, she would know more. But that stuff was just boring to her, why should she care about the past?
But now, as she entered her lavish bed spread and looked at herself in the mirror. She saw the most horrible thing that could have happened to a brave and more importantly beautiful magic user.
Her dress had the slightest, most miniscule smudge on it. It could’ve been from anything, dust, her entourage, even the staff itself could’ve had some dirt fall on her.
“Augh, of course! Of course, someone got me dirty!” she wailed, no one really paying her mind as it was a normal occurrence for her to be overdramatic. “Utterly disgusting and useless, all of them! Now I need a new outfit!”
Her doors slammed shut, her closet slammed open, and her clothing was flung with reckless abandon over her bed and her treasure. Thus, distracting her from doing literally any research or investigating what she had acquired. Just leaving it alone as something in its ancient magic started to stir.
The staff glowed, obscured from all prying eyes. Despite her intellect and magical prowess, Freja’s ego eclipsed that. All she knew was the staff’s beneficial powers, so she was completely unprepared for the ramifications of it. No detect curses, no warding’s, just pure unfiltered ego to protect her from anything.
But, for now, she wouldn’t notice. She was too busy fixing her new outfit. A black silk dress with gold trim and inlaid fabric. Tights that showed off her curves and a few adjustments to the top allowed it to show off her body in a way that screamed ‘I own you’ to passersby who didn’t know better. Elegant, eye catching and entrancing. All to be mocked and denied when someone approached her.
The princess flipped her hair, letting the red locks cascade down to her shoulders, free of all bindings she needed for travel. After all, she couldn’t risk her hair getting things like dirt and debris in it. Then were her gloves, full length and connected to her dress as she adjusted things with each hand.
A simple, elegant dress for whatever the mage wanted. Tea, dinner, anyone she could command? Frankly if she didn’t feel this was her norm, one could assume she thought the entire world belonged to her.
Some makeup, jewelry, and she was ready for the evening, and naturally she needed to take her new staff. While pink was not her ideal color, the contrast would be eye catching and entrancing. The benefits of the staff being just the slightest bit taller than her. And that was the first chance it had to work on its new master.
She didn’t notice anything, not at first, as she carefully looked at her staff and grimaced.
“it’s so tacky... but it should make me totally unstoppable if I want it too.” she grumbled, pleasantly surprised that it was very light despite its length. “Well, it’s famous, so it’ll just make me look better!”
There was a tug at the back of her mind, that maybe she should investigate her new equipment more. Ensure she didn’t forget something important about it. But of course, she didn’t feel the need too, after all she was a fantastic magic user in her own right.
So now she went out, purely on the town to show off. Herself, the staff, her own prowess of how she definitely earned this artifact with her own skill and not from forcing others to do the work for her.
Her door swung open as she walked out, the clack of her heels echoing through the building as she strode towards the entrance. Servants took quick glimpses at her, after all, she wanted all eyes on her and her new toy.
At least, she wanted them on her for her looks and her status, not for why she found herself with a maid on the floor in front of her. Or a sudden pain in her chest.
To onlookers, she had just confidently plowed into one of the maids due to her ego. So, they all knew to expect the princess to explode and drag the maid verbally across the entire castle. They waited, with bated breath, knowing just how ruthless she would be.
And nothing, not a single spoiled scream came from the noble. A few people looked up, and with an uncharacteristic gentleness, Freja was extending her hand.
“Well? Get up!” she said, not sure why she was doing this. But something was making this small act of kindness feel phenomenal. “Just be more careful next time.” The maid was stunned and slowly stood up, mumbled some sort of apology that Freja didn’t care enough to hear as she walked off.
“Wait... she got dirt on me, didn’t she?” the mage said, looking down at her dress. Thankfully there wasn’t a smudge on her. Nothing was out of place or dirtied by the collision. Not even the fit of her dress needed adjustment. “Well... good!”
Again, something was nagging at her in the back of her mind. She did yell at the maid who so rudely walked in her vicinity. She should be livid, furious, dragged her for her insolence of thinking she could even exist in her presence. But there was no anger, not even a hint of irritation at the lower-class servant being near her.
“Hmph!” Freja said with a smirk to no one in particular. “Clearly my adventures have just made me tolerate the low class’s mistakes!” She continued to stride off, not quite sure what the feeling in the back of her mind was, knowing it couldn’t be anything that would affect her on a significant level. Or more accurately, her ego was telling her that.
However, as she walked, the incidents continued. From someone wanting to compliment her dress, to smaller collisions that should’ve by all rights let her fly off the handle. But she didn’t, in fact, she felt better every time she didn’t explode at someone.
Clearly the adventure had tired her out. She couldn’t possibly be turning... nice, could she?
“Nice? To those cretins?” She mumbled as she shook her head, catching her hair frizzing out now that she could tell something was wrong. “Never. Not in a million years!” She was above them all of course, she was smarter, more powerful than most of the rabble in this region. Her parents were both skilled mages and her father was a prince elect. She was factually above everyone in her mind.
Her staff was just the icing on the cake. The symbol that proved she was in fact a skilled mage, even if she couldn’t care less about the history behind it. All she needed to know about it was that it was hers now, and it would increase her power.
Though, the longer she was holding it, having it near her, it was correlating with the sudden change in demeanor. She stopped and dipped into a side street free of anyone who could see her. Freja needed to get control of whatever was going on.
“...Wait... what do I do here?” she mumbled, trying to rack her brain for what could even be going on. There was a level of fogginess to her brain that wasn’t there before. “Maybe I'm tired...” she sighed, not wanting to risk running into anyone else now. “Being nice to these... people, shouldn’t feel good.”
The words left her mouth as the feeling of something strange tickled the back of her mind. She needed to think but was finding it significantly harder at the moment. The staff moved from hand to hand as she tried to think of what could be going on.
But it was getting so hard to think, her mind was unfocused, and she was finding herself dealing with some... feelings. In her body. Specifically, her lower body. Every little thing, little nice thing she found herself doing made that fogginess and feeling grow.
What’s worse is she didn’t think she hated it. But for now, she needed to try and get control of the situation. Her, her staff, and her dignity needed to make it back home intact. She just needed to figure out how to cover the short distance back home and to her room without being seen or interacting with anyone.
And then the people she hired to get the darned staff in the first place saw her. In all her elegance and glory, hiding in a back alley. Both the group and Freja paused, let an awkward silence fall between them and stand awkwardly.
“You,” one of them sighed, very visibly not pleased at seeing the noble.
“Me!” Freja said, trying to force her composure to work with her. Her posture going from awkwardly slumped over to trying to stand over the group. “You. All of you. Did. Uhm...”
“Our jobs?” one of them said, looking at her with confusion. The party was clearly not in the adventuring mood since they had changed more or less to casual clothing. “You mean the ones you barely paid us for?”
“Y-Yes!” Freja stammered, feeling that fogginess fill her head as she spoke. “Those jobs you did, uhm... what’s the word...? Tres Magnifique!” Using another language would certainly help her regain control of whatever was going on. Or at least that’s what she was hoping would happen.
“Yeah,” one of the adventurers said, a woman who frankly was a full head taller than the princess said. “Glad you got that part right.” The group murmured similar dissatisfaction with their client as their boss, who Freja was desperately trying to remember the name of, walked over to the princess. “And the other part you didn’t.”
“w-well, that.” she said, trying to muster up the primal energy of her magic to make this ruffian, who now just happened to be looking very attractive to her; remember her place. “Yes. Well. You did, Do... good work.”
“Great work.”
“Great work!” The princess stammered, her head getting foggier as she fought the urge to reward these adventurers more than she planned. “a-and you really, uhm...” the words stopped coming to her, whatever was causing this mental block was winning.
“Compensation.” the lead adventurer said with a blunt tone and expression. “You were all up there on your little chair you demanded we carry and didn’t put any risk on. So. Com. Pen. Sation. Miss Princess.”
Freja literally couldn’t find the words, her body felt like it was burning as she tried, desperately to maintain her ego due to her skill and position. But something was screaming at her to give in to their demands.
“y-yes, you... you were very good at carrying me, an-and keeping me safe so I got this, fabulous, staff.” she managed to fumble out. “I-I suppose that.” her mind screamed at her not to do what she was thinking of. “You, should. Get uhm, more... money?”
“And that we’re agreed on.” the leader said, backing away as Freja felt her knees buckle. Not enough to fall, but enough that the adventurers noticed. “You can’t pretend we hurt you, so don’t try anything.” the larger woman sighed, knowing that if they even moved a hair out of place the noble would unleash the fury of a thousand suns on them.
“I, I would never! I have my dignity!” Freja blurted out, feeling the warmth dissipate from her lower body as she regained her balance. “j-just do one job for me, and I’ll pay you double.”
“Triple.”
“Two and a half!”
“Quadruple.”
“Uhm... fine. That’s less than triple!” Freja said, trying, and failing, to shove the leader out of the way. “Just, get me back home! Please.” The party looked at her, then each other before stepping away and grouping up.
“She’s acting weird, right?” a smaller woman in the group whispered.
“Yeah, she is.” several others agreed. “What do we do, boss?”
“Get her home, last thing we need is her dad thinking we hurt her.” the large woman sighed. The huddle broke and they looked at the princess, her cheeks purple on her blue hued skin with a blush. “All right, we’ll get you home. But we’re getting our pay.”
“V-very good!” Freja stammered, taking a step in the completely wrong direction before the boss of the adventurers stopped her. “I, just needed to go around you! I know where I live!” she said, feeling odd as she wasn’t demanding to be carried by them.
“Right...” the boss said, looking at her team with a skeptically raised eyebrow. They followed her in mostly silence, each member looking more and more confused as they had to direct the princess back towards where she, presumably, had just left.
“Take a left,” the boss said, seeing Freja stumble on where to go again. “Seriously, you might need a doctor.”
“T-thank you for your concern!” Freja stammered back, “It is very, nice, of you!” Every little positive word that came out of her mouth made the head fog come back, and the warm sensation between her legs escalate.
What’s worse is that she was starting to think she liked this feeling. Every little word of thanks or polite sentence she uttered made it harder to not succumb to this feeling. Of course, she was arguing with herself the whole time about it, she was above people who worked and earned things the hard way. She was a skilled mage and practically halfway to royalty. Lowering herself to have things like respect and kindness for those less fortunate was beneath her!
At least, that’s what she wanted to think. But with every little nudge, begrudged sigh and word of thanks she gave to this adventuring party, she found it both harder to think and harder to disagree with the new thoughts filling her head.
Not to mention, every time she looked at the adventurers, something else started to build. They worked so hard and put up with her when she was so rude. Maybe, just maybe, they deserved more than money.
The thought was pushed down as they finally reached her home. The guards looked at the group with confusion as the leader of the adventurers just shrugged.
“Prinzessin?” one of them said as she hurried past them.
“Just, pay them! What they want!” she shouted, vanishing into the building to try and cope with the bizarre feelings. She rushed past everyone, blurting out apologies she wished she didn’t mean to them as they all looked at her with confusion.
“Okay, fuck.” she sighed, not even mentally chiding herself for the curse word. “What is going on,” she fell unceremoniously on her bed and let the staff fall to the floor. Her head was pounding, the fog was still in her mind, she didn’t even dare try to heal the headache she was now suffering from.
She sat in silence for a while, the headache growing worse as she thought about apologizing to everyone she ran past without so much as a hello. It sickened her and left her with more questions than answers.
“Okay, screw this,” she mumbled, grabbing her staff once again and staring at it. “You, you boost magic, time to get rid of this headache!” It was a simple healing spell, even if she couldn’t focus it’d be simple enough to cast.
The spell was case and Freja blinked for a minute. Just waiting to feel the relief of a clear head and no more strange thoughts. She hummed, feeling the pressure dissipate from her mind,
“Oh... that’s so much better,” she sighed, turning over and looking at the ceiling. “...what was I doing again?” The thoughts escaped her, but at least she didn’t have a headache. “Can’t have been important in that case then.”
She waited in her room, just in case her head started hurting again. Some people were moving back and forth outside of her room, had she really made such a scene? With a shrug, Freja stood up from her bed and walked to the door. Opening it to see the maid she had collided with earlier.
“Oh! You!” she said, feeling a soft smile form on her face. The maid looked nervous, and probably was expecting a verbal beatdown. “Oh my gosh, I am, so sorry for running into you!” the noble said, getting the Maid to visibly relax.
And then an idea, a horrible, status destroying idea came to Freja.
And she couldn’t care less about the implications of it.
If verbally making someone feel good was making her feel fantastic, then what if she took it a step further?
“Come into my room! I need to make it up to you!” she said, the maid turning beet red as she nodded. A careful step inside, the turn of the lock on the door, and a dirty look at the maid were all Freja needed to make sure this maid knew how good she could feel as an apology.
The pursuit of magic was an endless one, for various reasons and goals. Some wanted power, to conquer and destroy. Others wanted to mend the world, bringing peace and joy. Some wanted prestige, fame and fortune abound. So naturally there was a cavalcade of motivations for people, some good and some ill.
And more than you’d expect were just plain selfish. Even if it was for a dare or to satisfy one's ego thousands would pursue it. Some ancient magi prepared for this and set up punishments for those who would rob graves or delve into tombs in a quest for power.
One such person was a powerful sorceress, Prinzessin Freja Von Rosenburg. A young woman gifted in the magical arts who naturally wanted to have the best of the best in terms of magical equipment and prestige. Naturally, however, this had led to a bit of an ego problem with the woman.
Born to a prince elect, having access to anything she could want and being talented in magic. It was a damning combination. Especially when she realized what she could force her way through due to her large personality and similarly large assets. Meaning it was a simple task to get adventurers hired to get what she wanted if it’d turn out to be a challenge.
And she did, a group of her servants and adventurers looking to move up socially were easy to buy. Especially for a dangerous place full of dust and dirt. Monsters were no issue, after all she was the most powerful person (in her own mind) in the world.
So, the traps had been sprung, the monsters had been blasted and she hadn’t even had to risk chipping a nail. Her entourage was exhausted, but the relic she wanted was right in front of her.
“Well, thanks to MY hard work,” She boasted, knowing the grumbles from her group were just proving how hard she worked. “We have our treasure!” and said treasure was now being held right against her body. The pink staff of some powerful mage she didn’t care to remember the name of.
“Ugh, how tacky.” she mumbled as she motioned for her entourage to start carrying her out. “Really? A heart? I heard this old fogy was cringe, but I didn’t think it’d be that bad.” She ignored the grumblings of her allies, since after all they should just be happy, she is letting them use this as experience and exposure. “Come on, move faster! Everything's dealt with and I am not chipping a nail!”
There was almost no resistance from any of the other adventurers, they all knew they would get paid one way or another. Even If the bratty woman who hired them didn’t want too. But nonetheless, it was a pain to carry someone out of a dungeon, almost worse than carrying them in.
The trip back was thankfully uneventful, other than more grumbling from the people who did most of the work.
“And now, adieu!” Freja laughed, leaving the adventurers on the doorstep as she took the artifact with her. The tired grumbles now leaving her mind as she admired her treasure in actual lighting. It certainly had an aura of powerful magic, maybe if she had bothered to pay attention to stories about the sorcerer who used it, she would know more. But that stuff was just boring to her, why should she care about the past?
But now, as she entered her lavish bed spread and looked at herself in the mirror. She saw the most horrible thing that could have happened to a brave and more importantly beautiful magic user.
Her dress had the slightest, most miniscule smudge on it. It could’ve been from anything, dust, her entourage, even the staff itself could’ve had some dirt fall on her.
“Augh, of course! Of course, someone got me dirty!” she wailed, no one really paying her mind as it was a normal occurrence for her to be overdramatic. “Utterly disgusting and useless, all of them! Now I need a new outfit!”
Her doors slammed shut, her closet slammed open, and her clothing was flung with reckless abandon over her bed and her treasure. Thus, distracting her from doing literally any research or investigating what she had acquired. Just leaving it alone as something in its ancient magic started to stir.
The staff glowed, obscured from all prying eyes. Despite her intellect and magical prowess, Freja’s ego eclipsed that. All she knew was the staff’s beneficial powers, so she was completely unprepared for the ramifications of it. No detect curses, no warding’s, just pure unfiltered ego to protect her from anything.
But, for now, she wouldn’t notice. She was too busy fixing her new outfit. A black silk dress with gold trim and inlaid fabric. Tights that showed off her curves and a few adjustments to the top allowed it to show off her body in a way that screamed ‘I own you’ to passersby who didn’t know better. Elegant, eye catching and entrancing. All to be mocked and denied when someone approached her.
The princess flipped her hair, letting the red locks cascade down to her shoulders, free of all bindings she needed for travel. After all, she couldn’t risk her hair getting things like dirt and debris in it. Then were her gloves, full length and connected to her dress as she adjusted things with each hand.
A simple, elegant dress for whatever the mage wanted. Tea, dinner, anyone she could command? Frankly if she didn’t feel this was her norm, one could assume she thought the entire world belonged to her.
Some makeup, jewelry, and she was ready for the evening, and naturally she needed to take her new staff. While pink was not her ideal color, the contrast would be eye catching and entrancing. The benefits of the staff being just the slightest bit taller than her. And that was the first chance it had to work on its new master.
She didn’t notice anything, not at first, as she carefully looked at her staff and grimaced.
“it’s so tacky... but it should make me totally unstoppable if I want it too.” she grumbled, pleasantly surprised that it was very light despite its length. “Well, it’s famous, so it’ll just make me look better!”
There was a tug at the back of her mind, that maybe she should investigate her new equipment more. Ensure she didn’t forget something important about it. But of course, she didn’t feel the need too, after all she was a fantastic magic user in her own right.
So now she went out, purely on the town to show off. Herself, the staff, her own prowess of how she definitely earned this artifact with her own skill and not from forcing others to do the work for her.
Her door swung open as she walked out, the clack of her heels echoing through the building as she strode towards the entrance. Servants took quick glimpses at her, after all, she wanted all eyes on her and her new toy.
At least, she wanted them on her for her looks and her status, not for why she found herself with a maid on the floor in front of her. Or a sudden pain in her chest.
To onlookers, she had just confidently plowed into one of the maids due to her ego. So, they all knew to expect the princess to explode and drag the maid verbally across the entire castle. They waited, with bated breath, knowing just how ruthless she would be.
And nothing, not a single spoiled scream came from the noble. A few people looked up, and with an uncharacteristic gentleness, Freja was extending her hand.
“Well? Get up!” she said, not sure why she was doing this. But something was making this small act of kindness feel phenomenal. “Just be more careful next time.” The maid was stunned and slowly stood up, mumbled some sort of apology that Freja didn’t care enough to hear as she walked off.
“Wait... she got dirt on me, didn’t she?” the mage said, looking down at her dress. Thankfully there wasn’t a smudge on her. Nothing was out of place or dirtied by the collision. Not even the fit of her dress needed adjustment. “Well... good!”
Again, something was nagging at her in the back of her mind. She did yell at the maid who so rudely walked in her vicinity. She should be livid, furious, dragged her for her insolence of thinking she could even exist in her presence. But there was no anger, not even a hint of irritation at the lower-class servant being near her.
“Hmph!” Freja said with a smirk to no one in particular. “Clearly my adventures have just made me tolerate the low class’s mistakes!” She continued to stride off, not quite sure what the feeling in the back of her mind was, knowing it couldn’t be anything that would affect her on a significant level. Or more accurately, her ego was telling her that.
However, as she walked, the incidents continued. From someone wanting to compliment her dress, to smaller collisions that should’ve by all rights let her fly off the handle. But she didn’t, in fact, she felt better every time she didn’t explode at someone.
Clearly the adventure had tired her out. She couldn’t possibly be turning... nice, could she?
“Nice? To those cretins?” She mumbled as she shook her head, catching her hair frizzing out now that she could tell something was wrong. “Never. Not in a million years!” She was above them all of course, she was smarter, more powerful than most of the rabble in this region. Her parents were both skilled mages and her father was a prince elect. She was factually above everyone in her mind.
Her staff was just the icing on the cake. The symbol that proved she was in fact a skilled mage, even if she couldn’t care less about the history behind it. All she needed to know about it was that it was hers now, and it would increase her power.
Though, the longer she was holding it, having it near her, it was correlating with the sudden change in demeanor. She stopped and dipped into a side street free of anyone who could see her. Freja needed to get control of whatever was going on.
“...Wait... what do I do here?” she mumbled, trying to rack her brain for what could even be going on. There was a level of fogginess to her brain that wasn’t there before. “Maybe I'm tired...” she sighed, not wanting to risk running into anyone else now. “Being nice to these... people, shouldn’t feel good.”
The words left her mouth as the feeling of something strange tickled the back of her mind. She needed to think but was finding it significantly harder at the moment. The staff moved from hand to hand as she tried to think of what could be going on.
But it was getting so hard to think, her mind was unfocused, and she was finding herself dealing with some... feelings. In her body. Specifically, her lower body. Every little thing, little nice thing she found herself doing made that fogginess and feeling grow.
What’s worse is she didn’t think she hated it. But for now, she needed to try and get control of the situation. Her, her staff, and her dignity needed to make it back home intact. She just needed to figure out how to cover the short distance back home and to her room without being seen or interacting with anyone.
And then the people she hired to get the darned staff in the first place saw her. In all her elegance and glory, hiding in a back alley. Both the group and Freja paused, let an awkward silence fall between them and stand awkwardly.
“You,” one of them sighed, very visibly not pleased at seeing the noble.
“Me!” Freja said, trying to force her composure to work with her. Her posture going from awkwardly slumped over to trying to stand over the group. “You. All of you. Did. Uhm...”
“Our jobs?” one of them said, looking at her with confusion. The party was clearly not in the adventuring mood since they had changed more or less to casual clothing. “You mean the ones you barely paid us for?”
“Y-Yes!” Freja stammered, feeling that fogginess fill her head as she spoke. “Those jobs you did, uhm... what’s the word...? Tres Magnifique!” Using another language would certainly help her regain control of whatever was going on. Or at least that’s what she was hoping would happen.
“Yeah,” one of the adventurers said, a woman who frankly was a full head taller than the princess said. “Glad you got that part right.” The group murmured similar dissatisfaction with their client as their boss, who Freja was desperately trying to remember the name of, walked over to the princess. “And the other part you didn’t.”
“w-well, that.” she said, trying to muster up the primal energy of her magic to make this ruffian, who now just happened to be looking very attractive to her; remember her place. “Yes. Well. You did, Do... good work.”
“Great work.”
“Great work!” The princess stammered, her head getting foggier as she fought the urge to reward these adventurers more than she planned. “a-and you really, uhm...” the words stopped coming to her, whatever was causing this mental block was winning.
“Compensation.” the lead adventurer said with a blunt tone and expression. “You were all up there on your little chair you demanded we carry and didn’t put any risk on. So. Com. Pen. Sation. Miss Princess.”
Freja literally couldn’t find the words, her body felt like it was burning as she tried, desperately to maintain her ego due to her skill and position. But something was screaming at her to give in to their demands.
“y-yes, you... you were very good at carrying me, an-and keeping me safe so I got this, fabulous, staff.” she managed to fumble out. “I-I suppose that.” her mind screamed at her not to do what she was thinking of. “You, should. Get uhm, more... money?”
“And that we’re agreed on.” the leader said, backing away as Freja felt her knees buckle. Not enough to fall, but enough that the adventurers noticed. “You can’t pretend we hurt you, so don’t try anything.” the larger woman sighed, knowing that if they even moved a hair out of place the noble would unleash the fury of a thousand suns on them.
“I, I would never! I have my dignity!” Freja blurted out, feeling the warmth dissipate from her lower body as she regained her balance. “j-just do one job for me, and I’ll pay you double.”
“Triple.”
“Two and a half!”
“Quadruple.”
“Uhm... fine. That’s less than triple!” Freja said, trying, and failing, to shove the leader out of the way. “Just, get me back home! Please.” The party looked at her, then each other before stepping away and grouping up.
“She’s acting weird, right?” a smaller woman in the group whispered.
“Yeah, she is.” several others agreed. “What do we do, boss?”
“Get her home, last thing we need is her dad thinking we hurt her.” the large woman sighed. The huddle broke and they looked at the princess, her cheeks purple on her blue hued skin with a blush. “All right, we’ll get you home. But we’re getting our pay.”
“V-very good!” Freja stammered, taking a step in the completely wrong direction before the boss of the adventurers stopped her. “I, just needed to go around you! I know where I live!” she said, feeling odd as she wasn’t demanding to be carried by them.
“Right...” the boss said, looking at her team with a skeptically raised eyebrow. They followed her in mostly silence, each member looking more and more confused as they had to direct the princess back towards where she, presumably, had just left.
“Take a left,” the boss said, seeing Freja stumble on where to go again. “Seriously, you might need a doctor.”
“T-thank you for your concern!” Freja stammered back, “It is very, nice, of you!” Every little positive word that came out of her mouth made the head fog come back, and the warm sensation between her legs escalate.
What’s worse is that she was starting to think she liked this feeling. Every little word of thanks or polite sentence she uttered made it harder to not succumb to this feeling. Of course, she was arguing with herself the whole time about it, she was above people who worked and earned things the hard way. She was a skilled mage and practically halfway to royalty. Lowering herself to have things like respect and kindness for those less fortunate was beneath her!
At least, that’s what she wanted to think. But with every little nudge, begrudged sigh and word of thanks she gave to this adventuring party, she found it both harder to think and harder to disagree with the new thoughts filling her head.
Not to mention, every time she looked at the adventurers, something else started to build. They worked so hard and put up with her when she was so rude. Maybe, just maybe, they deserved more than money.
The thought was pushed down as they finally reached her home. The guards looked at the group with confusion as the leader of the adventurers just shrugged.
“Prinzessin?” one of them said as she hurried past them.
“Just, pay them! What they want!” she shouted, vanishing into the building to try and cope with the bizarre feelings. She rushed past everyone, blurting out apologies she wished she didn’t mean to them as they all looked at her with confusion.
“Okay, fuck.” she sighed, not even mentally chiding herself for the curse word. “What is going on,” she fell unceremoniously on her bed and let the staff fall to the floor. Her head was pounding, the fog was still in her mind, she didn’t even dare try to heal the headache she was now suffering from.
She sat in silence for a while, the headache growing worse as she thought about apologizing to everyone she ran past without so much as a hello. It sickened her and left her with more questions than answers.
“Okay, screw this,” she mumbled, grabbing her staff once again and staring at it. “You, you boost magic, time to get rid of this headache!” It was a simple healing spell, even if she couldn’t focus it’d be simple enough to cast.
The spell was case and Freja blinked for a minute. Just waiting to feel the relief of a clear head and no more strange thoughts. She hummed, feeling the pressure dissipate from her mind,
“Oh... that’s so much better,” she sighed, turning over and looking at the ceiling. “...what was I doing again?” The thoughts escaped her, but at least she didn’t have a headache. “Can’t have been important in that case then.”
She waited in her room, just in case her head started hurting again. Some people were moving back and forth outside of her room, had she really made such a scene? With a shrug, Freja stood up from her bed and walked to the door. Opening it to see the maid she had collided with earlier.
“Oh! You!” she said, feeling a soft smile form on her face. The maid looked nervous, and probably was expecting a verbal beatdown. “Oh my gosh, I am, so sorry for running into you!” the noble said, getting the Maid to visibly relax.
And then an idea, a horrible, status destroying idea came to Freja.
And she couldn’t care less about the implications of it.
If verbally making someone feel good was making her feel fantastic, then what if she took it a step further?
“Come into my room! I need to make it up to you!” she said, the maid turning beet red as she nodded. A careful step inside, the turn of the lock on the door, and a dirty look at the maid were all Freja needed to make sure this maid knew how good she could feel as an apology.
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A short romantic story about two witches on a date, with a twist! They play a game, and the loser of their challenge has to drink an obedience potion!
“Double, double toil and trouble, fire brew and cauldron bubble!” a woman chanted, the room dark aside from the light coming from her stove top. A ladle in one hand while her other was empty, having just dropped something in the pot she was working with. “Er… what was the rest of this incantation…?”
“If you put an eye of newt into our dinner again, I’m not playing fair!” another woman shouted from another room. Getting the first to wince and look at the ingredients next to her. One group was labelled ‘for dinner’ while the other was ‘for later.’
She was thankfully using the items from the correct group of ingredients. Carrots, diced onion, garlic, cumin, potato, bay leaves and of course. Beef. Braised before hand and left at a perfectly cooked medium rare, juices marinating with the stock and aromatics as the pot bubbled. A spoon was carefully lowered in after the finishing touches of seasoning were added, stirring it gently to make sure every flavor got to dance as it cooked.
“There!” the woman said, putting a lid on the pot and grabbing a timer. “It’ll be ready soon!”
“Are you using the kitty kat timer?” the other woman said, still from another room. “That one makes the cutest noise when it’s done!”
“I am!” the woman said, stepping out of the kitchen with the timer in hand. “You made it after all, Mica.” Now that she was out of the kitchen she kept dark entirely for mood lighting, despite obvious safety issues, in her hand was a modified egg timer, with a calico cat in a chef’s hat on top.
“Still bringing it out on nights like tonight?” Mica laughed, sitting on the plush sofa. “Filled with confidence aren’t we, Layla?” She was wearing a black tee shirt, with a pink broken heart with a bandage over it, a blanket covering her from the waist down and fingerless leather gloves. Her black hair was a tangled ball of knots thanks to being done up in a ponytail, and she was carefully using a brush to manage it.
“I mean… after what happened last time?” Layla mumbled as she turned the timer and set it down between her partner as it gave a little tuned meow. She was wearing jeans missing most of the left leg and a red tee shirt, with her blue hair done up in a braided ponytail. “I think my feet are still sore from carrying you everywhere.”
“And the time before that?” Mica chuckled, motioning for her girlfriend to sit down next to her. “Where I made you moan all night long with any touch, you couldn’t even sleep until it wore off.”
“And that’s why we only do this when we don’t have work the next morning,” Layla said, trying to resist giggling as she remembered what happened. “But tonight will be different!”
“Like how it was so different when I had you forget that you were naked and spent all day walking around my place with everything hanging out?”
“Yes! But still! I’m going to win tonight babe!” Layla said, standing triumphantly as her girlfriend gave a skeptical eyebrow raise. There was a beat, only the awkward silence of Face Off playing in the background as the two women stared each other down.
And then launched into a full make out session despite the mood killing movie. Their hands cupped each others’ waists as they let the movie play and the timer slowly tick down. Their hair mixed as Layla leaned forward, carefully pinning her partner in witchery and romance.
“Meow! Meow! Meow!” the timer interrupted. Getting both sapphic sorceresses to stop mid kiss. It kept meowing as they both flushed as the very awkward face touching scene started to play on the television, and both sat up.
“Right. The stew!” Mica giggled as Layla fumbled off the couch and ran to the kitchen. Adjusting her top and buttoning up her jeans again. “Oh, wow you were really eager.”
“Food first, making me a quivering mess next week.” The culinary caster mumbled, disappearing around the corner, and let out a content sigh as the aroma of perfectly cooked beef stew filled the house.
“Next week? You mean tonight babe.” Mica teased, knowing her partner's face was red. Both witches enjoyed the build up to these date nights, the teasing, the romance, the bad movies, it was perfect. That’s why she picked Nic Cage movies, something silly and dumb to destress before they got to their ‘friendly’ competition. “I have big plans for you.”
“I made plans for you too!” Layla shouted back, carefully dishing out two bowls of soup and grabbing bread rolls. “I’m just not gonna give you a hint before I win tonight!”
“Oh really?” Mica cooed, giving a look as she magicked over two tv trays. “No hints? Not at all? Nothing special planned from my kitten?” She winked, watching her partner turn beet red in the light of an explosion from the movie. “Not at all? Just going to stay quiet until I make you purr?”
“How do you keep winning when you play your hand that early?!” the chef mumbled, sitting down after handing over the dinner.
“Because you waaaant it,” her girlfriend teased as she reached over and started patting Layla’s head. Getting a soft hum in response as her eyes closed. “Why, if we didn’t have to eat first, I’d definitely start now.”
“Stop having such good fingers and then maybe I’ll resist a bit more,” Layla pouted, looking at her girlfriend as she started laughing. “Oh, I really just said that didn’t I?”
“Magic fingers are my specialty!” Mica laughed, not missing a beat as she put a hand under her girlfriend’s chin. “Now then, I’ll be sure to treat you well after we eat babe.”
“You mean I’ll treat you well!” she countered, sitting back as she started to eat. The two of them slowly lost all desire to talk as the stew was consumed. The beef melting in their mouths, the potato and carrots adding a beautiful texture to each bite, and the rolls absorbing the stew and leaving both women satisfied.
“Okay.” Mica sighed, snuggling up to her girlfriend. “If we ever do a cooking bet, you’d win.”
“Easily! And I’ll win tonight too!” Layla beamed triumphantly. Letting out a triumphant and incredibly overconfident laugh before their challenge had even started. “And you’ll be my plaything!”
Mica smirked, not saying anything aside from letting an eyebrow raised skeptically. Her girlfriend’s laughter slowly, incredibly slowly, faded into an awkward chuckle. There was a pause, only the last action scene of Face Off filling the room as they both quieted down.
“…What was the challenge again?” Layla mumbled, realizing she had not actually prepared for anything but her victory. Her fingers slowly pressed against one another awkwardly as she got a deadpan stare in response. “I uh… forgot.”
“Oh dear, really?”
“I got excited about cooking for you again…” she mumbled, getting her girlfriend to start laughing even harder. Her face turned beet red with every wheeze that she made. “I like cooking okay!?”
“I-I know!” Mica said, trying to stop laughing before pulling Layla into a kiss. “It’s just so cute I couldn’t help but laugh.”
“If I’m so cute then will you let me win?”
“You’re cuter when I have my hands wrapped around your waist, so. No.” the guest in the house smirked, getting a stuck-out tongue in response after a few more minutes of kissing.
“So, the challenge?” Layla said, slowly realizing she may have already lost. “What game were we going to play?”
“Kirby.”
“Dream Course or Air Ride?”
“Air Ride, cause we’re going to be using our feet.” Mica grinned, removing the blanket, and quickly ripping off her socks. “Now let’s get set up!”
“Can we at least play a round of City Trial after?”
One GameCube set up later.
“I want the wireless one!” Layla said, holding the wavebird out of reach from Mica, who refused to move from the couch. “You won last time so it’s only fair!”
“Distance won’t help you win anyway babe.” Her partner teased as they started the game. “You know how good I am with my feet.”
“Don’t mention foot jobs, I’m getting into my Gamer Zone.” Layla deadpanned as she locked eyes with her part of the screen and selected her vehicle. “Pro Gamer time, the pro-est of pros”
“Pro at being my vibrator for a week maybe.” Mica laughed, not remotely worried about losing to her girlfriend. “You’re gonna be wishing I chose something easier in a hot minute babe.”
“It’s Kirby! How hard could it be!”
One run through each course later.
“I lost.” Layla said, looking at how she hadn’t finished any course past 3rd place. In other words, last place. A complete blow out as she was naturally running into walls with her feet at the controls. “Nooooooo! I was in gamer mode!”
“No johns, even if I won because I took my top off.”
“Boobies are good though; I can’t look away!”
“And weren’t you in gamer mode?” Mica smirked, letting her girlfriend admire her chest despite the loss. “Can you really blame me for winning?”
“Can we do a city trial round first at least?” Layla chuckled nervously, knowing she wouldn’t be able to convince her partner regardless of whatever outcome came from that.
“Nope!” the winner laughed, carefully readjusting her top. “No runbacks until next week!”
“Can I at least pick the game?”
“Loser chooses after all!” Mica grinned, standing up and walking to the kitchen. “And now I’ll go make my prize.”
“Can I get a hint at least?”
“Not a chance! It’s no fun until you see the video tomorrow!” Mica laughed as the light turned on in the kitchen. “You know the deal babe.”
“I know, I know…” Layla sighed, turning red as she pulled open a drawer to grab a phone stand. “At least can I get more head pats this time?”
“The potion only works for eight hours; I gave you seven and a half hours of head pats last time!”
“But I LIKE head pats!”
“I am not patting you for more than seven hours forty-five minutes!” There was a pause as Mica looked out of the kitchen, her girlfriend sitting on the arm of the couch with a pouty face. "Puppy eyes won't work on me either babe."
"Damn."
"Nice try though," the winning witch laughed. "Gonna go with something sweet for a flavor~"
"Grumble, grumble," layla said, getting a confused look from her girlfriend.
"Did… did you just, say, grumble out loud because I didn't fall for your cuteness plan?"
"And if I did?"
"Then i'm adding habanero peppers to the potion."
"I DIDN'T I DIDN'T!"
"Good girl, now let me brew."
One hot brewing session later.
“Okay, potion’s on!” Mica said, walking out to the living room again with a cup of pink bubbling liquid. Layla however was nowhere to be seen, or so she’d like to think. “Really babe? I can see your butt poking out behind the couch.”
“No you can’t!” Layla said, shuffling a bit to be completely concealed. “You didn’t win!”
“I won, now you can be a brat once you drink it like we agreed!” the victorious witch laughed as she started chasing her girlfriend around the couch. “You lost fair and square!”
“That doesn't mean I'm gonna make it easy for you!”
“Babe, was playing horny cat and mouse your idea for this week?”
“N-NO!”
“Babe.”
Layla was now standing up with the potion right under her chin. Mica looked at her with a raised eyebrow and confident smile.
“Yes?”
“Just drink the potion, please?”
Wordlessly other than some quiet grumbling, Layla grabbed it, slowly, dramatically, and most importantly, with a playful grin. Downed it. There was a pause as she handed the bottle back.
“So… how long does this one take to work?” she asked, getting only a sly grin from Mca as the bottle was set down on the table. “A few minutes or… oh…” her words trailed off as her eyes glazed over.
“Not instant, but fast enough my dear,” Mica chuckled as she gently took her girlfriend's hand. Carefully made sure she was supported as the potion took effect, slipped an arm around her waist and carefully walked her away from the living room. “There’s a good girl…” she whispered, carefully moving as she watched Layla’s mouth change from a relaxed slack position into a dopey grin.
“Good… girl…” she mumbled, still grinning as her eyes glazed over even more. Every step was now being taken extremely carefully as Mica led her into a back room, right to where a bed was waiting.
“...Really babe?” she sighed, a banner that said ‘Layla wins!’ with party hats and confetti on the bed was what greeted her when the light turned on. “You were that sure?” Her girlfriend slowly nodded, still being put under due to the potion.
“Yes…” she mumbled, Mica forcing her laughter down as she carefully walked towards the bed. “...very… sure…”
“God, you’re cute.” Mica snickered, carefully letting her girlfriend lean back. Not to sleep, but instead wait for her. After all, an obedience potion was only part of the fun.
“Now then…” the witch in control mumbled, as she looked through her bag for what she had planned. “What to do, what to do, what to do with you?” Potions were Mica’s specialty, granted for witches that was almost to be expected. Where Layla was better was with charm magic, so the two made sure there were plenty of components for spells around their abodes.
Mica looked around, not quite sure if she wanted to go as literal as cat and mouse for the night. She may not have said it but she was definitely in more of a mood for some snuggling than outright sex. There’d still be some, why not take advantage of her partner's consent after all? But she wanted to be more intimate.
“Archibald!” she said, remembering the little noodly friend that Layla kept. A ball python in an enclosure perfect for it to slither around in. And thankfully for Mica, still had a small bit of his shedding on the end of his body. She looked at the snake, the snake looked at her, mouth seemingly forced into a goofy smile as it was starting to eat. He wiggled in response to his name.
Mica slid the top of the terrarium open, noting Archibalds cowboy hat sitting on the cold side of the terrarium. She sighed, attempted to put it on the snake, and grabbed a few bits of shedding for her witchy ways.
“You need more hats.”
Archibald wiggled happily on the heated part of the tank in agreement.
“Snake safe hats, we’ll make some for you next week little guy.” she said, the snake now continuing to swallow his dinner as his mind wandered to what hat he would get. Perhaps a wizard hat, or a pirate hat, not that the snake knew what either of those were.
“And now,” she said, dropping the shedding into a vial. “Snake and mouse night begins~” she shook it, vigorously, and watched as it went from clear, to pink, to a dark violet. “Perfect, and now for the other…”
Mica was lucky that her girlfriend loved keeping animals, and that they all had silly hats. A few mice that were probably getting too many snacks were more than happy to get brushed for some fur scraps.
And yes, Archibald was too small to harm them. And yes, they also all had tiny hats.
That was of course the easy part, now with two magic vials Mica had one challenge. Remembering which one was which. One issue the witch faced was a lack of label makers, with every type of potion unfortunately being the same color it would lead to various issues.
The two witches still laughed about the time they accidentally drank clown potions, confetti was still being picked out of the walls from time to time.
“Oh Layla~” Mica said, looking at her entranced half lucid girlfriend. Still laying on the bed with a dopey grin on her face. “I got a treat for you~”
“Baaabe~” She looked up, just a bit, her movements sluggish as she gave a sleepy, heavily entranced wave. “Hiiiiii!”
“Kept you waiting~” she teased, keeping an eye on the potion for herself. ‘Left hand snake, right hand mouse’ she thought, realizing the mistake of changing things on the fly when identical potions were involved. “How’re you feeling?”
“Gooood!” was the response, her entranced gamer gf now trying to sit up. Mca sighed as she walked over, just looking at her made her heart flutter, especially when she was the equivalent of a remote controlled cuddle ditz.
“Good girl,” Mica said as she carefully sat on the bed, wrapped an arm around Layla, lifted one of the potions to her lips, swapped it for the correct one, and moved her mouth next to the entranced woman's ear. “Drink.”
“Mmmm no”
“How are you bratty even when controlled?”
“Tooooooo smart for you! Now gimme the drink!” Layla babbled, trying to reach for the snake potion.
“Shhh,” the other witch said, putting the mouse potion to her partner's lips. “Just drink this one slowly, carefully, and tell me if anything feels wrong. Okay?”
She nodded as the concoction slowly passed her lips, Mica taking careful movements to make sure not a drop was missed, and that she drank it with no risk. There was a pause before she downed her own potion, knowing the transformation would take a moment.
No witches, warlocks or wizards knew why transformations always started in the feet, but they did. So for Layla, despite the potion dulling her awareness, started to giggle. Her feet grew soft white fur that started poking out from her toes, her face elongating into a cute little nose and whiskers. Her ears disappeared and popped out of the top of her head, much larger than before as they took on an adorable mousey appearance.
For Mica, she was more than happy to ditch her legs. The darn things were just a pain to buy pants to put on them anyway. It started at her toes, elongating and fusing into a single point as her joints popped, bones melting and fusing with muscle. After all, most of a snake was just muscle, despite what halloween decorations would lead people to believe. Her jaw popped, widening just enough to allow her jaw to unhinge, should she need to for whatever reason. Little fangs poked their way out and sat on her lower lip comfortably as scales formed along her body.
“Ahh…” she sighed, feeling a few knots in her back remove themselves as it continued. With her entranced mouse morph sitting giggling as she played with her longer fingers and tail in a daze. Her body elongated as she slowly slid out of her clothing, the tail grew as she stretched, settling around at least four times the length of her body. “Much, much better to be like this.”
“Tail go wiggle!” Layla babbled, her face now sporting an adorable set of large front teeth.
‘And yep, her mind is putty in my coils’ Mica grinned, letting a forked tongue escape her lips as the changes finished for them both. She reached out, her hands gently cupping the soft fur of her girlfriends mousey face. There was a squeak as the obedience potion retriggered, locking her gaze on Mica’s face.
“Now my little mouse~” she teased, letting her body start to wrap around the morphed witch. The fur felt amazing, meaning he mice had been taken care of expertly if this was the effect of the potion. “Shall I give you a hug?”
Layla squeaked, her whiskers twitching in excitement as the reptilian coils started binding her feet. She didn’t really have the option or ability to say no, due to the potion and all, and only wiggled in response as her lamia-fied girlfriend kept on coling.
“...I could totally skip the sexy stuff and just hold you like this because you’re so damn soft and cute!” Mica whispered, letting her tongue brush Layla’s neck. “Would you like that, my good mousey girl?” she nodded, despite her senses being dulled she was turning completely red, even through the fur, and gave a slow nod.
“Y-yessss! Layla wants hugs!” she squeaked as Mica gave her a quick kiss on the nose. Her coils wrapping them up and tangling the mouse's tail with the tip of hers. She moved slowly, letting her body act like a tight blanket with every inch of restriction she added to Layla.
“Let me know if I’m being too tight,” she whispered, using her longer body to grab the blanket from the bed and added it to the pair. “I want you snug, not struggling.”
“Mmm, cozy...” Layla mumbled, her eyes drooping as Mica finished constricting her. A pillow moved just behind her head as ica gave her another kiss.
“Good,” the lamia giggled, giving her girlfriend a flurry of kisses as she settled in. her tongue flicking out as she felt the warmth of her girlfriend settle in. “...Absolute control and I settle for soft cuddling as animals we love. Wow, I'm the biggest dork.”
When everything reverted the next morning she was met with a very disappointed Layla, who was expecting to not walk straight for a month. But there was always their next date night to make that fantasy come true.
“Double, double toil and trouble, fire brew and cauldron bubble!” a woman chanted, the room dark aside from the light coming from her stove top. A ladle in one hand while her other was empty, having just dropped something in the pot she was working with. “Er… what was the rest of this incantation…?”
“If you put an eye of newt into our dinner again, I’m not playing fair!” another woman shouted from another room. Getting the first to wince and look at the ingredients next to her. One group was labelled ‘for dinner’ while the other was ‘for later.’
She was thankfully using the items from the correct group of ingredients. Carrots, diced onion, garlic, cumin, potato, bay leaves and of course. Beef. Braised before hand and left at a perfectly cooked medium rare, juices marinating with the stock and aromatics as the pot bubbled. A spoon was carefully lowered in after the finishing touches of seasoning were added, stirring it gently to make sure every flavor got to dance as it cooked.
“There!” the woman said, putting a lid on the pot and grabbing a timer. “It’ll be ready soon!”
“Are you using the kitty kat timer?” the other woman said, still from another room. “That one makes the cutest noise when it’s done!”
“I am!” the woman said, stepping out of the kitchen with the timer in hand. “You made it after all, Mica.” Now that she was out of the kitchen she kept dark entirely for mood lighting, despite obvious safety issues, in her hand was a modified egg timer, with a calico cat in a chef’s hat on top.
“Still bringing it out on nights like tonight?” Mica laughed, sitting on the plush sofa. “Filled with confidence aren’t we, Layla?” She was wearing a black tee shirt, with a pink broken heart with a bandage over it, a blanket covering her from the waist down and fingerless leather gloves. Her black hair was a tangled ball of knots thanks to being done up in a ponytail, and she was carefully using a brush to manage it.
“I mean… after what happened last time?” Layla mumbled as she turned the timer and set it down between her partner as it gave a little tuned meow. She was wearing jeans missing most of the left leg and a red tee shirt, with her blue hair done up in a braided ponytail. “I think my feet are still sore from carrying you everywhere.”
“And the time before that?” Mica chuckled, motioning for her girlfriend to sit down next to her. “Where I made you moan all night long with any touch, you couldn’t even sleep until it wore off.”
“And that’s why we only do this when we don’t have work the next morning,” Layla said, trying to resist giggling as she remembered what happened. “But tonight will be different!”
“Like how it was so different when I had you forget that you were naked and spent all day walking around my place with everything hanging out?”
“Yes! But still! I’m going to win tonight babe!” Layla said, standing triumphantly as her girlfriend gave a skeptical eyebrow raise. There was a beat, only the awkward silence of Face Off playing in the background as the two women stared each other down.
And then launched into a full make out session despite the mood killing movie. Their hands cupped each others’ waists as they let the movie play and the timer slowly tick down. Their hair mixed as Layla leaned forward, carefully pinning her partner in witchery and romance.
“Meow! Meow! Meow!” the timer interrupted. Getting both sapphic sorceresses to stop mid kiss. It kept meowing as they both flushed as the very awkward face touching scene started to play on the television, and both sat up.
“Right. The stew!” Mica giggled as Layla fumbled off the couch and ran to the kitchen. Adjusting her top and buttoning up her jeans again. “Oh, wow you were really eager.”
“Food first, making me a quivering mess next week.” The culinary caster mumbled, disappearing around the corner, and let out a content sigh as the aroma of perfectly cooked beef stew filled the house.
“Next week? You mean tonight babe.” Mica teased, knowing her partner's face was red. Both witches enjoyed the build up to these date nights, the teasing, the romance, the bad movies, it was perfect. That’s why she picked Nic Cage movies, something silly and dumb to destress before they got to their ‘friendly’ competition. “I have big plans for you.”
“I made plans for you too!” Layla shouted back, carefully dishing out two bowls of soup and grabbing bread rolls. “I’m just not gonna give you a hint before I win tonight!”
“Oh really?” Mica cooed, giving a look as she magicked over two tv trays. “No hints? Not at all? Nothing special planned from my kitten?” She winked, watching her partner turn beet red in the light of an explosion from the movie. “Not at all? Just going to stay quiet until I make you purr?”
“How do you keep winning when you play your hand that early?!” the chef mumbled, sitting down after handing over the dinner.
“Because you waaaant it,” her girlfriend teased as she reached over and started patting Layla’s head. Getting a soft hum in response as her eyes closed. “Why, if we didn’t have to eat first, I’d definitely start now.”
“Stop having such good fingers and then maybe I’ll resist a bit more,” Layla pouted, looking at her girlfriend as she started laughing. “Oh, I really just said that didn’t I?”
“Magic fingers are my specialty!” Mica laughed, not missing a beat as she put a hand under her girlfriend’s chin. “Now then, I’ll be sure to treat you well after we eat babe.”
“You mean I’ll treat you well!” she countered, sitting back as she started to eat. The two of them slowly lost all desire to talk as the stew was consumed. The beef melting in their mouths, the potato and carrots adding a beautiful texture to each bite, and the rolls absorbing the stew and leaving both women satisfied.
“Okay.” Mica sighed, snuggling up to her girlfriend. “If we ever do a cooking bet, you’d win.”
“Easily! And I’ll win tonight too!” Layla beamed triumphantly. Letting out a triumphant and incredibly overconfident laugh before their challenge had even started. “And you’ll be my plaything!”
Mica smirked, not saying anything aside from letting an eyebrow raised skeptically. Her girlfriend’s laughter slowly, incredibly slowly, faded into an awkward chuckle. There was a pause, only the last action scene of Face Off filling the room as they both quieted down.
“…What was the challenge again?” Layla mumbled, realizing she had not actually prepared for anything but her victory. Her fingers slowly pressed against one another awkwardly as she got a deadpan stare in response. “I uh… forgot.”
“Oh dear, really?”
“I got excited about cooking for you again…” she mumbled, getting her girlfriend to start laughing even harder. Her face turned beet red with every wheeze that she made. “I like cooking okay!?”
“I-I know!” Mica said, trying to stop laughing before pulling Layla into a kiss. “It’s just so cute I couldn’t help but laugh.”
“If I’m so cute then will you let me win?”
“You’re cuter when I have my hands wrapped around your waist, so. No.” the guest in the house smirked, getting a stuck-out tongue in response after a few more minutes of kissing.
“So, the challenge?” Layla said, slowly realizing she may have already lost. “What game were we going to play?”
“Kirby.”
“Dream Course or Air Ride?”
“Air Ride, cause we’re going to be using our feet.” Mica grinned, removing the blanket, and quickly ripping off her socks. “Now let’s get set up!”
“Can we at least play a round of City Trial after?”
One GameCube set up later.
“I want the wireless one!” Layla said, holding the wavebird out of reach from Mica, who refused to move from the couch. “You won last time so it’s only fair!”
“Distance won’t help you win anyway babe.” Her partner teased as they started the game. “You know how good I am with my feet.”
“Don’t mention foot jobs, I’m getting into my Gamer Zone.” Layla deadpanned as she locked eyes with her part of the screen and selected her vehicle. “Pro Gamer time, the pro-est of pros”
“Pro at being my vibrator for a week maybe.” Mica laughed, not remotely worried about losing to her girlfriend. “You’re gonna be wishing I chose something easier in a hot minute babe.”
“It’s Kirby! How hard could it be!”
One run through each course later.
“I lost.” Layla said, looking at how she hadn’t finished any course past 3rd place. In other words, last place. A complete blow out as she was naturally running into walls with her feet at the controls. “Nooooooo! I was in gamer mode!”
“No johns, even if I won because I took my top off.”
“Boobies are good though; I can’t look away!”
“And weren’t you in gamer mode?” Mica smirked, letting her girlfriend admire her chest despite the loss. “Can you really blame me for winning?”
“Can we do a city trial round first at least?” Layla chuckled nervously, knowing she wouldn’t be able to convince her partner regardless of whatever outcome came from that.
“Nope!” the winner laughed, carefully readjusting her top. “No runbacks until next week!”
“Can I at least pick the game?”
“Loser chooses after all!” Mica grinned, standing up and walking to the kitchen. “And now I’ll go make my prize.”
“Can I get a hint at least?”
“Not a chance! It’s no fun until you see the video tomorrow!” Mica laughed as the light turned on in the kitchen. “You know the deal babe.”
“I know, I know…” Layla sighed, turning red as she pulled open a drawer to grab a phone stand. “At least can I get more head pats this time?”
“The potion only works for eight hours; I gave you seven and a half hours of head pats last time!”
“But I LIKE head pats!”
“I am not patting you for more than seven hours forty-five minutes!” There was a pause as Mica looked out of the kitchen, her girlfriend sitting on the arm of the couch with a pouty face. "Puppy eyes won't work on me either babe."
"Damn."
"Nice try though," the winning witch laughed. "Gonna go with something sweet for a flavor~"
"Grumble, grumble," layla said, getting a confused look from her girlfriend.
"Did… did you just, say, grumble out loud because I didn't fall for your cuteness plan?"
"And if I did?"
"Then i'm adding habanero peppers to the potion."
"I DIDN'T I DIDN'T!"
"Good girl, now let me brew."
One hot brewing session later.
“Okay, potion’s on!” Mica said, walking out to the living room again with a cup of pink bubbling liquid. Layla however was nowhere to be seen, or so she’d like to think. “Really babe? I can see your butt poking out behind the couch.”
“No you can’t!” Layla said, shuffling a bit to be completely concealed. “You didn’t win!”
“I won, now you can be a brat once you drink it like we agreed!” the victorious witch laughed as she started chasing her girlfriend around the couch. “You lost fair and square!”
“That doesn't mean I'm gonna make it easy for you!”
“Babe, was playing horny cat and mouse your idea for this week?”
“N-NO!”
“Babe.”
Layla was now standing up with the potion right under her chin. Mica looked at her with a raised eyebrow and confident smile.
“Yes?”
“Just drink the potion, please?”
Wordlessly other than some quiet grumbling, Layla grabbed it, slowly, dramatically, and most importantly, with a playful grin. Downed it. There was a pause as she handed the bottle back.
“So… how long does this one take to work?” she asked, getting only a sly grin from Mca as the bottle was set down on the table. “A few minutes or… oh…” her words trailed off as her eyes glazed over.
“Not instant, but fast enough my dear,” Mica chuckled as she gently took her girlfriend's hand. Carefully made sure she was supported as the potion took effect, slipped an arm around her waist and carefully walked her away from the living room. “There’s a good girl…” she whispered, carefully moving as she watched Layla’s mouth change from a relaxed slack position into a dopey grin.
“Good… girl…” she mumbled, still grinning as her eyes glazed over even more. Every step was now being taken extremely carefully as Mica led her into a back room, right to where a bed was waiting.
“...Really babe?” she sighed, a banner that said ‘Layla wins!’ with party hats and confetti on the bed was what greeted her when the light turned on. “You were that sure?” Her girlfriend slowly nodded, still being put under due to the potion.
“Yes…” she mumbled, Mica forcing her laughter down as she carefully walked towards the bed. “...very… sure…”
“God, you’re cute.” Mica snickered, carefully letting her girlfriend lean back. Not to sleep, but instead wait for her. After all, an obedience potion was only part of the fun.
“Now then…” the witch in control mumbled, as she looked through her bag for what she had planned. “What to do, what to do, what to do with you?” Potions were Mica’s specialty, granted for witches that was almost to be expected. Where Layla was better was with charm magic, so the two made sure there were plenty of components for spells around their abodes.
Mica looked around, not quite sure if she wanted to go as literal as cat and mouse for the night. She may not have said it but she was definitely in more of a mood for some snuggling than outright sex. There’d still be some, why not take advantage of her partner's consent after all? But she wanted to be more intimate.
“Archibald!” she said, remembering the little noodly friend that Layla kept. A ball python in an enclosure perfect for it to slither around in. And thankfully for Mica, still had a small bit of his shedding on the end of his body. She looked at the snake, the snake looked at her, mouth seemingly forced into a goofy smile as it was starting to eat. He wiggled in response to his name.
Mica slid the top of the terrarium open, noting Archibalds cowboy hat sitting on the cold side of the terrarium. She sighed, attempted to put it on the snake, and grabbed a few bits of shedding for her witchy ways.
“You need more hats.”
Archibald wiggled happily on the heated part of the tank in agreement.
“Snake safe hats, we’ll make some for you next week little guy.” she said, the snake now continuing to swallow his dinner as his mind wandered to what hat he would get. Perhaps a wizard hat, or a pirate hat, not that the snake knew what either of those were.
“And now,” she said, dropping the shedding into a vial. “Snake and mouse night begins~” she shook it, vigorously, and watched as it went from clear, to pink, to a dark violet. “Perfect, and now for the other…”
Mica was lucky that her girlfriend loved keeping animals, and that they all had silly hats. A few mice that were probably getting too many snacks were more than happy to get brushed for some fur scraps.
And yes, Archibald was too small to harm them. And yes, they also all had tiny hats.
That was of course the easy part, now with two magic vials Mica had one challenge. Remembering which one was which. One issue the witch faced was a lack of label makers, with every type of potion unfortunately being the same color it would lead to various issues.
The two witches still laughed about the time they accidentally drank clown potions, confetti was still being picked out of the walls from time to time.
“Oh Layla~” Mica said, looking at her entranced half lucid girlfriend. Still laying on the bed with a dopey grin on her face. “I got a treat for you~”
“Baaabe~” She looked up, just a bit, her movements sluggish as she gave a sleepy, heavily entranced wave. “Hiiiiii!”
“Kept you waiting~” she teased, keeping an eye on the potion for herself. ‘Left hand snake, right hand mouse’ she thought, realizing the mistake of changing things on the fly when identical potions were involved. “How’re you feeling?”
“Gooood!” was the response, her entranced gamer gf now trying to sit up. Mca sighed as she walked over, just looking at her made her heart flutter, especially when she was the equivalent of a remote controlled cuddle ditz.
“Good girl,” Mica said as she carefully sat on the bed, wrapped an arm around Layla, lifted one of the potions to her lips, swapped it for the correct one, and moved her mouth next to the entranced woman's ear. “Drink.”
“Mmmm no”
“How are you bratty even when controlled?”
“Tooooooo smart for you! Now gimme the drink!” Layla babbled, trying to reach for the snake potion.
“Shhh,” the other witch said, putting the mouse potion to her partner's lips. “Just drink this one slowly, carefully, and tell me if anything feels wrong. Okay?”
She nodded as the concoction slowly passed her lips, Mica taking careful movements to make sure not a drop was missed, and that she drank it with no risk. There was a pause before she downed her own potion, knowing the transformation would take a moment.
No witches, warlocks or wizards knew why transformations always started in the feet, but they did. So for Layla, despite the potion dulling her awareness, started to giggle. Her feet grew soft white fur that started poking out from her toes, her face elongating into a cute little nose and whiskers. Her ears disappeared and popped out of the top of her head, much larger than before as they took on an adorable mousey appearance.
For Mica, she was more than happy to ditch her legs. The darn things were just a pain to buy pants to put on them anyway. It started at her toes, elongating and fusing into a single point as her joints popped, bones melting and fusing with muscle. After all, most of a snake was just muscle, despite what halloween decorations would lead people to believe. Her jaw popped, widening just enough to allow her jaw to unhinge, should she need to for whatever reason. Little fangs poked their way out and sat on her lower lip comfortably as scales formed along her body.
“Ahh…” she sighed, feeling a few knots in her back remove themselves as it continued. With her entranced mouse morph sitting giggling as she played with her longer fingers and tail in a daze. Her body elongated as she slowly slid out of her clothing, the tail grew as she stretched, settling around at least four times the length of her body. “Much, much better to be like this.”
“Tail go wiggle!” Layla babbled, her face now sporting an adorable set of large front teeth.
‘And yep, her mind is putty in my coils’ Mica grinned, letting a forked tongue escape her lips as the changes finished for them both. She reached out, her hands gently cupping the soft fur of her girlfriends mousey face. There was a squeak as the obedience potion retriggered, locking her gaze on Mica’s face.
“Now my little mouse~” she teased, letting her body start to wrap around the morphed witch. The fur felt amazing, meaning he mice had been taken care of expertly if this was the effect of the potion. “Shall I give you a hug?”
Layla squeaked, her whiskers twitching in excitement as the reptilian coils started binding her feet. She didn’t really have the option or ability to say no, due to the potion and all, and only wiggled in response as her lamia-fied girlfriend kept on coling.
“...I could totally skip the sexy stuff and just hold you like this because you’re so damn soft and cute!” Mica whispered, letting her tongue brush Layla’s neck. “Would you like that, my good mousey girl?” she nodded, despite her senses being dulled she was turning completely red, even through the fur, and gave a slow nod.
“Y-yessss! Layla wants hugs!” she squeaked as Mica gave her a quick kiss on the nose. Her coils wrapping them up and tangling the mouse's tail with the tip of hers. She moved slowly, letting her body act like a tight blanket with every inch of restriction she added to Layla.
“Let me know if I’m being too tight,” she whispered, using her longer body to grab the blanket from the bed and added it to the pair. “I want you snug, not struggling.”
“Mmm, cozy...” Layla mumbled, her eyes drooping as Mica finished constricting her. A pillow moved just behind her head as ica gave her another kiss.
“Good,” the lamia giggled, giving her girlfriend a flurry of kisses as she settled in. her tongue flicking out as she felt the warmth of her girlfriend settle in. “...Absolute control and I settle for soft cuddling as animals we love. Wow, I'm the biggest dork.”
When everything reverted the next morning she was met with a very disappointed Layla, who was expecting to not walk straight for a month. But there was always their next date night to make that fantasy come true.
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Goku makes a wish to give Chi-Chi a happy anniversary.
Things escalate from there!
Things escalate from there!
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MagicLottie
· 03 Apr 2023
Goku makes a wish to give Chi-Chi a happy anniversary.Things escalate from there!
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Marisa found herself unusually stiff one morning, after a successful 'borrowing' run from the manor's library the previous night.She paid it no mind, though. After all, an ordinary magician like her had aches and pains every now and then.If only she'd noticed the string slowly extending from her wrist before it was too late...Support works like this on: https://www.patreon.com/MagicLottie
The first day of the week was nothing special, humans in the village would stir, youkai would either be waiting to see how their mischief would be reacted too or were hiding. Shrine maidens, in theory, would be up early to welcome the early morning visitors.
And of course, A certain trio of magicians would be nursing headaches for various reasons. Patchouli Knowledge, Magician of the Scarlet Devil Manor, would be nursing one due to her asthma keeping her awake. Alice Margatroid would be nursing one from staying up too late to make sure all her dolls were in the best condition.
And Marisa Kirisame, would be nursing one from being flung into a wall due to an early morning heist. With a certain maid effortlessly throwing her battered body off the premises in defeat. After all, the guard of the manor still had to deal with unpleasant morning business. So, with knives and magical bullets clashing, the ordinary magician was quickly removed from the premises, stab wounds and all to break the relative silence surrounding the Manor.
And that’s how she left, nothing borrowed, stab wounds and a killer headache from hitting her head on at least five trees. But that was something she could fix, once she made it back to her home. Which was a short flight away from the manor, after all, how could she effectively borrow things. But she had things to deal with the injuries at home.
Her house was a complete disaster, with how many things she borrowed most of her rooms were stuffed to the brim with random magical items. But there were two things she always kept tabs on where they were. A machine that brewed a live giving elixir, and her witch’s cauldron, where she would prepare something to heal her. Did she know how the machine worked? No. but she had managed to get it working, and that was the important part.
It produced a miracle liquid, something called coffee, and whatever it was, it was a hell of a drug. But even that wouldn’t fix Marisa’s concussion and bruised ribs. No, that was what magic mushrooms were for. Brewed up into a healing salve in the middle of her war zone of a house, thanks to how many items she had ‘borrowed’ over the years. Items that she would take for an unstated length of time but promise to return them ‘when she dies.’
Kicked the bucket, passed on, pining for the fjords or exiting stage left, as some may say. But that was neither here nor there. As she was very much not dead, nor an ex-magician in any sense of the phrase. But that didn’t mean she didn’t have a weakness to dozens of knives being thrown at her out of thin air, or not being allowed to ‘borrow’ peoples things.
“Why do I always forget that guard is late in the morning…” the magician grumbled as she nursed various stab wounds on her legs. “Why don’t they get that I’ll give this stuff back? It’s simple! They don’t need to be so stingy…”
She sighed and went back to patching up her wounds. It wouldn’t take long, but now her entire week was thrown off. She planned to ste-‘borrow’ some books from Patchouli, maybe fly to a bakery in the human village and get something before going and relaxing in a hot spring for the evening. It was going to be a perfect Monday, but naturally, people don’t like things being taken without permission. Even if they’d get them back, eventually.
But for now, the Ordinary magician decided to just go on with the rest of her plans, get something sweet from a baker and go about her day. And yes, she would pay for a baked good, you can’t return food in any way that matters if you borrow it.
The money however, that was prime borrowing material. She couldn’t visit Reimu, after all, the shrine maiden was usually out of money to swipe. The manor was out, one attempt a week was already bad enough for her health. But there was someone nearby who wouldn’t miss a couple bundles of coin.
Elsewhere in the Forest of Magic, Alice Margatroid was waking up. Again, for the second time that morning. Headaches due to sleeping issues aren’t fun after all. Her dolls were already making some tea for her to enjoy while the cool morning air was around. So, she hummed, changed out of her crafting clothes, and readied herself.
“Shanghai,” she said, motioning to one of the dolls. “Can you bring me a list of what I need to find today, please?” There was a small pause as the doll flew around the main living area, before finding a small scroll perfect for the doll’s hands.
The doll gave a small cheer as it received a gentle pat on the head as thanks. It floated for a moment before dashing around the room, happy that it accomplished its first task of the day. There was of course, more to do, and Alice was just glad she could automate her dolls to some extent.
It made weeding much less time consuming. Especially since she had to keep people out of the forest, if only to keep them safe from Medicine and her poison dolls. But routine was setting in now, and unfortunately, that meant that Alice was counting down the minutes until her security dolls would activate.
After all, it’s much harder to be robbed when you know they’re coming. Naturally, she sipped her tea and waited, and waited, and waited.
“Marisa’s late.” She grumbled, now realizing she needed to get a move on for her day. “Dears, can you watch the house today?” she said to her dolls, all responding by grabbing various forms of impalement and pain delivery. “That’s goo-”
“Hey Alice!” Marisa shouted, clearly trying to judge what the minimum safe distance from her abode was. “Can I borrow some money?”
“…we have an imposter. Open fire.” The magician responded, letting her dolls launch to assault what she thought was Marisa through the window. The subsequent screams and sounds of counter fire did make the magician wonder if this was an imposter, but with how long she had known one of her regular guests for tea. It was unlikely.
“Thanks for the money.” Marisa said, getting tea all over Alice’s sitting room as the borrow crazy magician left. “By the way, that’s Cirno you’re blasting.”
“C-Cease fire!” Alice yelled, trying to redirect her dolls to stop blasting the fairy and try to focus on Marisa. But it was too late, Marisa had already flown out the open window and was quickly a speck on the horizon. Alice took a deep breath, and looked around, needing to ensure it was only a few measly coins than anything important. And that’s when something caught her eye.
“I’ll return it when I’m dead” was written on a note, right on one of the fancier doll display cabinets. Except the note was affixed to a rock, which was sitting on broken glass, next to another note. “Sorry!”
“KIRASAMEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”
She was totally going to pay at the next get together, Marisa knew that for a fact. But these coins weren’t going to spend themselves. So really, she felt she was doing Alice a favor. After all, her associate magician can make most of her materials by hand, so money shouldn’t even be a concern really.
But, as people outside of Gensokyo say, this was the straw that broke the camel's back. Both other women were, frankly, very tired of having to keep track of what had been ‘borrowed’ from them. Books, clothes, even something more private in Patchouli’s case. And that really was the last straw.
“Meiling,” Alice said, looking at the guard of the Scarlet Devil manor, asleep but not really asleep. “Sakuya is walking towards you.”
“I’m awake!” the woman said, standing upright and looking fully alert. “Oh. Miss Margatroid, what brings you to the manor?”
“I can’t believe that strategy worked,” Alice said as she shook her head. “Your mistress hasn’t penned me an invitation, but I need to speak with Lady Patchouli. It’s about our mutual pain in the neck.” Being formal with allies when trying to create a battle plan was a key part of this strategy.
“Well,” Meiling said, looking around, momentarily confused as to why Sakuya was not in fact walking towards them. “You are asking for permission, and Marisa already was thrown out by Lady Sakuya. All right, I’ll see if you can enter.”
“Thank you, I will remain here until you return.” Alice said, knowing it wouldn’t take long for an answer. But this was the critical moment. Of course, she could simply go and take back what was stolen from her. It wouldn’t even be that challenging, she could just unleash more power and leave Marisa in a hospital for a month as everything was recovered.
But where was the fun in that? Overpowering an enemy with sheer force was Marisa’s style, not hers. No, payback required a more tactical approach this time.
So, she waited, and since this was an actual proper visit, it didn’t take long for her to be led inside by the maid of the manor to the massive library.
“Margatroid” Patchouli said, drinking tea either to help with her health or to nurse a headache. Or both. “If I let logic dictate why you’re here. It’s Marisa, isn’t it.”
“Naturally,” Alice sighed, making sure to distance herself from the bookworm. Her poor health meant that her familiar would need to disinfect any proper visitors. “Lavender?”
“It’s calming.” Patchouli said as she waved Koakuma off to go back to work. “And is refreshing when I can’t go outside.”
“Has your research into treatments been going well?” Alice knew the answer was no, but it felt important to check in on her friend.
“You know the answer,” Patchouli coughed, motioning that she was okay, and some tea had just gone down the wrong way. “Chronic issues are difficult to solve. Doctors appreciate my findings however.”
“Then I must ask, is this a ‘good’ day? Or should I come back another time?”
“It’s a ‘good’ day. I’ve been having more of them lately.”
“Good. You deserve those good days.”
“Now then, this is about Marisa?”
“Indeed, this is about Marisa.” Alice sighed, knowing that Patchouli was really the one that had to deal with the thieving mage more than anyone. “She decided to ‘borrow’ money from me, and nearly destroyed an entire display case in the process.”
“She has crossed the line far too much,” Patchouli sighed, stretching as best she could. “She even stole my hot water bottle, the audacity.”
“Really? Isn’t that in your bedchamber?” there was a pause as the bookworm realized what she just said. “Why was she in there? Or is it none of my concern?”
“Right now, it is none of your concern, and that’s what makes it audacious.” The librarian said, her cheeks flushing just a small bit. “Stealing from a bedroom, how dare she. I mean, who even does that?”
“Then, what say we take something of hers, just for a little while?” the puppeteer said, taking out a journal with her plan inside. “Transformation magic is temporary, and maybe it will make her behave like a proper Magician.”
“It will take more than being turned into a toad for a fort night for her to get the message.” Patchouli said, intrigued as the book was carefully placed on her reading stand. “So, how are you escalating this with her?”
“First, we need bait.” Alice sighed, knowing that would mean putting something rare or mysterious in harm's way. “Then, we need to prepare and ready ourselves to be patient.”
And that was the start of the plan, as the two women discussed what they needed to do, and what they needed to accomplish it. It was mid-morning when Alice arrived, and the dead of night was when she departed.
Marisa would face some comeuppance. And they only hoped that it would be enough to get her to change. Or at least stop stealing from them.
The first day of the week was nothing special, humans in the village would stir, youkai would either be waiting to see how their mischief would be reacted too or were hiding. Shrine maidens, in theory, would be up early to welcome the early morning visitors.
And of course, A certain trio of magicians would be nursing headaches for various reasons. Patchouli Knowledge, Magician of the Scarlet Devil Manor, would be nursing one due to her asthma keeping her awake. Alice Margatroid would be nursing one from staying up too late to make sure all her dolls were in the best condition.
And Marisa Kirisame, would be nursing one from being flung into a wall due to an early morning heist. With a certain maid effortlessly throwing her battered body off the premises in defeat. After all, the guard of the manor still had to deal with unpleasant morning business. So, with knives and magical bullets clashing, the ordinary magician was quickly removed from the premises, stab wounds and all to break the relative silence surrounding the Manor.
And that’s how she left, nothing borrowed, stab wounds and a killer headache from hitting her head on at least five trees. But that was something she could fix, once she made it back to her home. Which was a short flight away from the manor, after all, how could she effectively borrow things. But she had things to deal with the injuries at home.
Her house was a complete disaster, with how many things she borrowed most of her rooms were stuffed to the brim with random magical items. But there were two things she always kept tabs on where they were. A machine that brewed a live giving elixir, and her witch’s cauldron, where she would prepare something to heal her. Did she know how the machine worked? No. but she had managed to get it working, and that was the important part.
It produced a miracle liquid, something called coffee, and whatever it was, it was a hell of a drug. But even that wouldn’t fix Marisa’s concussion and bruised ribs. No, that was what magic mushrooms were for. Brewed up into a healing salve in the middle of her war zone of a house, thanks to how many items she had ‘borrowed’ over the years. Items that she would take for an unstated length of time but promise to return them ‘when she dies.’
Kicked the bucket, passed on, pining for the fjords or exiting stage left, as some may say. But that was neither here nor there. As she was very much not dead, nor an ex-magician in any sense of the phrase. But that didn’t mean she didn’t have a weakness to dozens of knives being thrown at her out of thin air, or not being allowed to ‘borrow’ peoples things.
“Why do I always forget that guard is late in the morning…” the magician grumbled as she nursed various stab wounds on her legs. “Why don’t they get that I’ll give this stuff back? It’s simple! They don’t need to be so stingy…”
She sighed and went back to patching up her wounds. It wouldn’t take long, but now her entire week was thrown off. She planned to ste-‘borrow’ some books from Patchouli, maybe fly to a bakery in the human village and get something before going and relaxing in a hot spring for the evening. It was going to be a perfect Monday, but naturally, people don’t like things being taken without permission. Even if they’d get them back, eventually.
But for now, the Ordinary magician decided to just go on with the rest of her plans, get something sweet from a baker and go about her day. And yes, she would pay for a baked good, you can’t return food in any way that matters if you borrow it.
The money however, that was prime borrowing material. She couldn’t visit Reimu, after all, the shrine maiden was usually out of money to swipe. The manor was out, one attempt a week was already bad enough for her health. But there was someone nearby who wouldn’t miss a couple bundles of coin.
Elsewhere in the Forest of Magic, Alice Margatroid was waking up. Again, for the second time that morning. Headaches due to sleeping issues aren’t fun after all. Her dolls were already making some tea for her to enjoy while the cool morning air was around. So, she hummed, changed out of her crafting clothes, and readied herself.
“Shanghai,” she said, motioning to one of the dolls. “Can you bring me a list of what I need to find today, please?” There was a small pause as the doll flew around the main living area, before finding a small scroll perfect for the doll’s hands.
The doll gave a small cheer as it received a gentle pat on the head as thanks. It floated for a moment before dashing around the room, happy that it accomplished its first task of the day. There was of course, more to do, and Alice was just glad she could automate her dolls to some extent.
It made weeding much less time consuming. Especially since she had to keep people out of the forest, if only to keep them safe from Medicine and her poison dolls. But routine was setting in now, and unfortunately, that meant that Alice was counting down the minutes until her security dolls would activate.
After all, it’s much harder to be robbed when you know they’re coming. Naturally, she sipped her tea and waited, and waited, and waited.
“Marisa’s late.” She grumbled, now realizing she needed to get a move on for her day. “Dears, can you watch the house today?” she said to her dolls, all responding by grabbing various forms of impalement and pain delivery. “That’s goo-”
“Hey Alice!” Marisa shouted, clearly trying to judge what the minimum safe distance from her abode was. “Can I borrow some money?”
“…we have an imposter. Open fire.” The magician responded, letting her dolls launch to assault what she thought was Marisa through the window. The subsequent screams and sounds of counter fire did make the magician wonder if this was an imposter, but with how long she had known one of her regular guests for tea. It was unlikely.
“Thanks for the money.” Marisa said, getting tea all over Alice’s sitting room as the borrow crazy magician left. “By the way, that’s Cirno you’re blasting.”
“C-Cease fire!” Alice yelled, trying to redirect her dolls to stop blasting the fairy and try to focus on Marisa. But it was too late, Marisa had already flown out the open window and was quickly a speck on the horizon. Alice took a deep breath, and looked around, needing to ensure it was only a few measly coins than anything important. And that’s when something caught her eye.
“I’ll return it when I’m dead” was written on a note, right on one of the fancier doll display cabinets. Except the note was affixed to a rock, which was sitting on broken glass, next to another note. “Sorry!”
“KIRASAMEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”
She was totally going to pay at the next get together, Marisa knew that for a fact. But these coins weren’t going to spend themselves. So really, she felt she was doing Alice a favor. After all, her associate magician can make most of her materials by hand, so money shouldn’t even be a concern really.
But, as people outside of Gensokyo say, this was the straw that broke the camel's back. Both other women were, frankly, very tired of having to keep track of what had been ‘borrowed’ from them. Books, clothes, even something more private in Patchouli’s case. And that really was the last straw.
“Meiling,” Alice said, looking at the guard of the Scarlet Devil manor, asleep but not really asleep. “Sakuya is walking towards you.”
“I’m awake!” the woman said, standing upright and looking fully alert. “Oh. Miss Margatroid, what brings you to the manor?”
“I can’t believe that strategy worked,” Alice said as she shook her head. “Your mistress hasn’t penned me an invitation, but I need to speak with Lady Patchouli. It’s about our mutual pain in the neck.” Being formal with allies when trying to create a battle plan was a key part of this strategy.
“Well,” Meiling said, looking around, momentarily confused as to why Sakuya was not in fact walking towards them. “You are asking for permission, and Marisa already was thrown out by Lady Sakuya. All right, I’ll see if you can enter.”
“Thank you, I will remain here until you return.” Alice said, knowing it wouldn’t take long for an answer. But this was the critical moment. Of course, she could simply go and take back what was stolen from her. It wouldn’t even be that challenging, she could just unleash more power and leave Marisa in a hospital for a month as everything was recovered.
But where was the fun in that? Overpowering an enemy with sheer force was Marisa’s style, not hers. No, payback required a more tactical approach this time.
So, she waited, and since this was an actual proper visit, it didn’t take long for her to be led inside by the maid of the manor to the massive library.
“Margatroid” Patchouli said, drinking tea either to help with her health or to nurse a headache. Or both. “If I let logic dictate why you’re here. It’s Marisa, isn’t it.”
“Naturally,” Alice sighed, making sure to distance herself from the bookworm. Her poor health meant that her familiar would need to disinfect any proper visitors. “Lavender?”
“It’s calming.” Patchouli said as she waved Koakuma off to go back to work. “And is refreshing when I can’t go outside.”
“Has your research into treatments been going well?” Alice knew the answer was no, but it felt important to check in on her friend.
“You know the answer,” Patchouli coughed, motioning that she was okay, and some tea had just gone down the wrong way. “Chronic issues are difficult to solve. Doctors appreciate my findings however.”
“Then I must ask, is this a ‘good’ day? Or should I come back another time?”
“It’s a ‘good’ day. I’ve been having more of them lately.”
“Good. You deserve those good days.”
“Now then, this is about Marisa?”
“Indeed, this is about Marisa.” Alice sighed, knowing that Patchouli was really the one that had to deal with the thieving mage more than anyone. “She decided to ‘borrow’ money from me, and nearly destroyed an entire display case in the process.”
“She has crossed the line far too much,” Patchouli sighed, stretching as best she could. “She even stole my hot water bottle, the audacity.”
“Really? Isn’t that in your bedchamber?” there was a pause as the bookworm realized what she just said. “Why was she in there? Or is it none of my concern?”
“Right now, it is none of your concern, and that’s what makes it audacious.” The librarian said, her cheeks flushing just a small bit. “Stealing from a bedroom, how dare she. I mean, who even does that?”
“Then, what say we take something of hers, just for a little while?” the puppeteer said, taking out a journal with her plan inside. “Transformation magic is temporary, and maybe it will make her behave like a proper Magician.”
“It will take more than being turned into a toad for a fort night for her to get the message.” Patchouli said, intrigued as the book was carefully placed on her reading stand. “So, how are you escalating this with her?”
“First, we need bait.” Alice sighed, knowing that would mean putting something rare or mysterious in harm's way. “Then, we need to prepare and ready ourselves to be patient.”
And that was the start of the plan, as the two women discussed what they needed to do, and what they needed to accomplish it. It was mid-morning when Alice arrived, and the dead of night was when she departed.
Marisa would face some comeuppance. And they only hoped that it would be enough to get her to change. Or at least stop stealing from them.
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In a world where body swapping is commonplace, Aaron and Miranda both find out something was changed when they were born. Now, on nothing more than a hunch, they start to get their own bodies back.
Technology was ever advancing, allowing modifications and things that were once only dreamed of in science fiction. While it wasn’t for the most ethical of reasons, eventually the technology to transfer consciousness between human bodies was created, decommissioned, re-commissioned and tested.
Naturally, the science and technology behind the body swapping was used primarily to assist people with mismatched bodies in some way or another. Though that was only recently. For a longer than it should’ve been time, some people used it when their child wasn’t quite as they were expecting. Parents who wanted a son would often swap with parents who wanted a daughter, and vice versa.
This naturally was stopped as soon as possible. The ramifications to a child’s mental health were too high risk. Especially if they found out what had happened to them as infants. Now, exceptions were made for the health of the infant, but naturally this allowed things to slip through the cracks.
However, by the miracle of humanity pulling its collective head out of its collective ass for once, there were no scars and if a child did go through the process, it was reversable. So, now that the process had become commonplace, everyone was likely to know someone who had at least part of their body swapped. Some used it in place of difficult surgeries, some used it for fun.
But that was the reality of today. In year 20XX where humanity had managed to make something cool for once. The concept of the self was more malleable than it had ever been, more flexible and fluid. Humans were their own playthings now, at least to a point.
But for some, there was a feeling that something wasn’t right. Not in the traditional sense of dysphoria or dysmorphia, those were now easily solvable, but in the sense that something wasn’t as it should’ve been. That nagging feeling of discomfort was just something that Aaron couldn’t shake. At home, at school or anywhere really.
The teenager had initially chalked it up to those awkward growing pains. Since he couldn’t place the discomfort, he had chosen to ignore it. But it was still there, ever present in the back of his mind, and nothing he tried was helping.
At least in school he could distract himself by trying to pay attention to science lectures in class. They weren’t boring by any means; it was just the same things repeated day in and day out. So, he let his eyes wander, his mind following suit, and it settled on someone else in the room.
A girl just a few desks away from him. Miranda was her name and as Aaron’s friends would tease him about. He was down bad. If he wasn’t trying to deal with whatever was going on with that nagging discomfort. He was trying to think of what games Miranda liked, or what she would want to do if he asked her out and said yes.
Miranda, however, was doing the same thing Aaron was. At least she would if having an eye on the back of your head was still legal. They had exchanged exactly one sentence with each other, both teens could remember it perfectly.
“Charizard is overrated.” Aaron had said during one of the many times a teacher had been running late. Which Miranda has overheard.
“Yeah, Blastoise is better.” she had responded, both nodded at each other, then went back to their own business. If clichés were able to physically manifest, it was love at first nerd. It had been over a year since then and they had managed to accidentally pick most of the same classes.
Eventually their friends had had enough and got them sitting right across from each other one lunch time. Hoping that this would actually let them talk to one another. The awkward teen romance was becoming hell for everyone, as even that attempt barely got them talking to each other.
“I don’t know...” Miranda said to one of her friends after another attempt at this. “It feels like... something’s off?”
“I don’t know why?” Aaron said, mirroring that sentiment with his own friends. “Whenever I try to talk the words get stuck in my throat. It’s really annoying.”
“You’re telling me,” Their friends would say, but eventually the attempts stopped. If it was going to happen it would just have to rely on them not getting stuck on what to say. So, they stopped, and eventually say them ever so slowly say more than single word answers to one another.
“Hey...” Aaron eventually said, managing to get words out of his throat. “You uh, look good?’ Miranda looked at him with a million-yard stare in response, like something had just forcefully inserted a Lego brick under her foot.
“Thanks...” she responded, trying her best to not blush. “You, too.” her response got a similar feeling out of Aaron, and neither of them knew why. It just made it more awkward, if that was even possible.
They tried again, but both had that same strange feeling. Not that either of them was hiding something, but something that matched up with that strange discomfort in the back of their minds. Each time they tried to talk outside of a class they just froze.
“Why can’t we talk?” Aaron had written on a note, trying to see if that was going to cause the same thing. He slid it over to Miranda and got a response back.
“No idea, maybe it’s something about our voices?” the note said, with a little drawing of a shrugging cat under it.
“it’s the only thing that makes sense I guess?” Aaron wrote back. The thought of their voices throwing them off was a possibility, but a weird one at that. The bell rang before they could try to piece anything else together, meaning they had to try and focus for the last class of the day.
That night however, both teens decided to look into things. The idea of their voices triggering something uncomfortable was too weird of an idea to shake. A couple hours of searching online brought them to the same conclusion.
“Body and Aspect Swapping. If the process is done incorrectly or too early, the recipients of the swap may experience mild to severe anxiety when meeting with the recipient of the traded aspects.” several articles reported on. The idea of having it done too early was a strange one, but that’s what the restrictions on the process were for. Though, the dates were strange, and both of the teens realized it and opened their emails.
“Did we switch bodies?” they both sent within seconds of the other. “Holy crap we did, didn’t we?”
“Does that mean I was a guy?” Miranda said, not hating the idea and finding some comfort in it that she didn’t quite understand yet.
“I was a girl? Awesome!” Aaron said, something in the back of his mind clicking at that revelation. They quickly started sharing that detail to one another in emails, back and forth. They agreed that this was just something they would’ve found out sooner or later but needed to think of what to do. After all, their parents probably didn’t want to bring it up, let alone have it be brought up to them.
Both teens knew their parents weren’t the type to do it out of malice, that was the one comfort for this. But they wanted the truth. So, it needed to be addressed before the school week resumed.
Each one started the same way with their parents. Asking to speak to their parents in the living room with a bit of printed out information. And for both teens, their parents knew the jig was up the second they saw the papers.
“There were...” one of them would start. The similar story being matched up later. “Complications.” That wasn’t surprising, even if it was before the practice was completely limited to emergencies, swapping infant bodies was used as an attempt to save children.
What no one expected was a mathematic formula of how convoluted the entire procedure was so no laws were violated and all parties involved were kept healthy.
“So... where did the clown come in?” the teens asked, very confused as they looked at pictures taken of the entire procedure.
“The doctor was on call and didn’t have time to wipe the makeup off.” The parents responded, admittedly realizing how bizarre that situation was in hindsight. “It was... a bigger mess than they thought.”
“How many kids were involved in this?” the teens asked, wondering how much of their bodies were on a technical level someone else's.
“We needed at least seven, it was a lot of parts being changed due to blood types and compatibility.” the parents said, taking some time to get the documents out for their kid to look over. “It... was tricky to bring up, and we’re sorry we didn’t tell you sooner.”
“Thanks.” both teens said, looking at the forms.
“So why was I a guy then?” Aaron asked.
“Why a girl?” Miranda asked.
“That... is just how it shook out to be honest.” the parents responded. Trying to find any documents that could help them or their child. “Those parts had to be changed from other kids, and we agreed that if you wanted to change. Well. We'd support you.”
“I need to think on this.” both teens said, turning down the offer of hugs as they went to their rooms.
“How’d yours go?” Aaron asked, trying to not have a kneejerk response. “I... need to think on what to do.”
“Smoother than I expected.” Miranda replied a few minutes later. “Take some time to think, I already know what I want to do.”
“Already?” Aaron responded, frankly surprised his crush had a plan already. “Lucky. No wonder you get better grades.”
“Hey, I can always help you study after this.” Miranda responded. “Just, need to not freeze up when we speak.”
“Yeah, that makes it harder.” Aaron replied.
They went to bed soon after that, with Miranda already knowing what he wanted to do. He fell asleep within a few minutes. Aaron was struggling more, he... didn’t hate his body, but the idea of being a girl was too exciting to deny. Even if they both knew their bodies didn’t affect what their genders were.
It was the most awkward breakfast the next morning. Mostly since the parents were, frankly, expecting more than a quiet acknowledgment of what happened. But the morning went like most others, a tired good morning, breakfast, and both teens sitting in their rooms afterwards.
“I want to swap some things back with you.” Aaron wrote, sending the email before self-doubt could stop it. The teen waited for a while, or rather, what felt like a while. The seconds crawled by with a brutal lack of urgency.
“I was thinking the same thing,” Miranda wrote back. His email response only pausing as he tried to think of something. “Call me Joey now, by the way.”
“So, we’re on the same page,” Aaron responded. “Why Joey?”
“Dunno, seemed to fit.”
“Fair.” Aaron laughed, not bothering with the beating around the bush of trying to justify mistakes on his name. “You seem really prepared for this.”
“Hey, if we get this figured out then we don’t need to worry about it later.” Joey’s response had a big thumbs up on it. “Plus, did your parents have those forms? Mine did and I read through them with breakfast. We can schedule a change easily.”
“Couldn’t focus, but that’s good to know.” Aaron responded, the idea of what names she would pick from were starting to bubble up. “How soon?”
“Next weekend is open to schedule.” Joey replied, sending the website and needed formed. “We just need to agree on what’s being changed.”
“Want your shoulders back?” Aaron said, including a gif of a dog laughing. “Do we have to do this all-in-one go?”
“Hey, it’ll work better for me.” Joey responded. “And I don’t think so? One of my dad's mentioned it could take a couple sessions to get it right.” there was a sigh of relief from Aaron at that. Even if Joey wanted to rush forward, it didn’t sound like he was going to force Aaron to do the same.
“Screw it,” he replied after downloading the forms. “I want the longer hair.”
“Shoulders for hair? Sounds like a fair trade,” was the response. “Anything else?”
“Take my testosterone, please.” Was Aaron’s reply. “And why aren’t we using a chat room?”
“Didn’t think of it,” was Joeys response. Both teens swapping to a chatroom to hash out what was going to be swapped with what.
The parents weren’t ecstatic about it being done, but thankfully if it was reversable now, it would be reversable later. The appointments were made, documents were signed and the next weekend, both teens were ready to go.
Frankly, the procedure had machines right out of a horror movie. But both teens soon were unconscious, and everything started to go to work. Mass was transferred, body shape was altered, and those weird cramps you get in your feet were dealt with.
This was the first time they did this. A general one to allow them to see what they wanted to keep.
Joey loved the fact that now he wasn’t expected to wear skirts. He did so anyway because an entirely new closet of clothes was expensive, and it annoyed people. His hair was short and rough when they both came out of the first session.
Aaron was still picking out her name and had to fight her dads and Joey’s parents to get a dress that no longer fit her crush. Instead of the short buzzcut for simplicities sake, she was now sporting long blonde and pink hair. Right down to her shoulders.
“So...” Aaron started, expecting her voice to give out like it had before when talking to Joey in person. “...what now?” it had been three weeks since the first swap, everything had healed, and Joey had already swooned over Aaron suplexing a bully at school. “I still... like you.”
“Well, we can figure that out.” Joey had grinned, getting Aaron to blush at his smile. “How do you feel about your, old body? I guess?”
“it’s familiar?” Aaron said, trying to hide her blush. “But... not too familiar? Like I can grow into it.” she looked at her hands, a little shocked at how much softer her features had been becoming. Even after the swap her features just got smoother. A doctor mentioned her body was going to be overcompensating for a while on balancing her hormones out.
“Same, I wonder if I'll get taller?” Joey laughed, taking advantage of Aaron looking at her hands to let himself blush. He was definitely feeling the same side effects of the transfer. A level of machismo was hitting him, and aside from noticing girls more, he swore he could take a bear in a fight.
Apparently, this was a near universal male instinct to try and think of an animal they could beat up. Even if logic said they would lose. But it definitely felt better for him as a person. School had been going well, their friends were just glad the awkward teen romance could move past the awkward stage more than worrying about their genders and bodies.
Also seeing the first person to try and start shit wind up with a bloody nose was a very good deterrent. Especially since it was at the first provocation, no one would mess with someone if there was an immediate consequence for doing so.
But the school year went on, and despite the awkward phase staying far longer than anyone would’ve predicted. Eventually Aaron chose Dot as a new name, Joey was still dressing in any way he wanted, skirts and dresses some days but jeans and tank tops other days.
A walking middle finger to the people who still would hold onto his pronouns determining how he was allowed to dress. Meanwhile Dot was going all in on femme fashion, her dads even ordering frilly fancy Lolita style dresses that she would wear on weekends while playing games. The dissonance between her playing Doom and dressed like she was supposed to be a princess was something Joey couldn’t get enough of.
And that was something that, after literally so many events that should’ve pushed them together, it happened at the last possible moment of high school. With their friends celebrating just for the mental relief of not having to picture the two dumbasses not being together when they should've been.
The cream pies being thrown at them was definitely their revenge for the years of indecisiveness after an immediate connection. Everyone was laughing as pie filling was being cleaned off the pair, their friend groups ribbing them endlessly as they finally had their first kiss.
At least, first one that didn’t result in literal butting heads due to a height difference. Or a phone going of, or any other number of perfectly timed mood killers. Both of them were, frankly, happier, even if they didn’t realize they were unhappy before. The weight of discomfort they’d both been experiencing hadn’t bothered them for the last years of high school, and they certainly weren’t going to bother them in the future.
“So... what next?” Dot said, still picking bits of pie out of her pink and blonde hair. She didn’t even remember what she asked her natural hair color to be at this point. “More school? Work?”
“How about an actual first date,” Joey chuckled, knowing his prom suit and dress were going to have stains on them for years. “Unless you want to count when I schooled you at the arcade?”
“You mean where I kicked your ass?” Dot teased, flicking a bit of pie off her dress onto Joey’s shoes. “Someone doesn’t remember how many tokens you spent on me.”
“Fine, rematch!” Joey laughed, sending a bit of pie back at Dot. “And then a date!”
“Works for me!” Dot laughed as they resumed the pie slinging until they were forcibly stopped by their parents.
Technology was ever advancing, allowing modifications and things that were once only dreamed of in science fiction. While it wasn’t for the most ethical of reasons, eventually the technology to transfer consciousness between human bodies was created, decommissioned, re-commissioned and tested.
Naturally, the science and technology behind the body swapping was used primarily to assist people with mismatched bodies in some way or another. Though that was only recently. For a longer than it should’ve been time, some people used it when their child wasn’t quite as they were expecting. Parents who wanted a son would often swap with parents who wanted a daughter, and vice versa.
This naturally was stopped as soon as possible. The ramifications to a child’s mental health were too high risk. Especially if they found out what had happened to them as infants. Now, exceptions were made for the health of the infant, but naturally this allowed things to slip through the cracks.
However, by the miracle of humanity pulling its collective head out of its collective ass for once, there were no scars and if a child did go through the process, it was reversable. So, now that the process had become commonplace, everyone was likely to know someone who had at least part of their body swapped. Some used it in place of difficult surgeries, some used it for fun.
But that was the reality of today. In year 20XX where humanity had managed to make something cool for once. The concept of the self was more malleable than it had ever been, more flexible and fluid. Humans were their own playthings now, at least to a point.
But for some, there was a feeling that something wasn’t right. Not in the traditional sense of dysphoria or dysmorphia, those were now easily solvable, but in the sense that something wasn’t as it should’ve been. That nagging feeling of discomfort was just something that Aaron couldn’t shake. At home, at school or anywhere really.
The teenager had initially chalked it up to those awkward growing pains. Since he couldn’t place the discomfort, he had chosen to ignore it. But it was still there, ever present in the back of his mind, and nothing he tried was helping.
At least in school he could distract himself by trying to pay attention to science lectures in class. They weren’t boring by any means; it was just the same things repeated day in and day out. So, he let his eyes wander, his mind following suit, and it settled on someone else in the room.
A girl just a few desks away from him. Miranda was her name and as Aaron’s friends would tease him about. He was down bad. If he wasn’t trying to deal with whatever was going on with that nagging discomfort. He was trying to think of what games Miranda liked, or what she would want to do if he asked her out and said yes.
Miranda, however, was doing the same thing Aaron was. At least she would if having an eye on the back of your head was still legal. They had exchanged exactly one sentence with each other, both teens could remember it perfectly.
“Charizard is overrated.” Aaron had said during one of the many times a teacher had been running late. Which Miranda has overheard.
“Yeah, Blastoise is better.” she had responded, both nodded at each other, then went back to their own business. If clichés were able to physically manifest, it was love at first nerd. It had been over a year since then and they had managed to accidentally pick most of the same classes.
Eventually their friends had had enough and got them sitting right across from each other one lunch time. Hoping that this would actually let them talk to one another. The awkward teen romance was becoming hell for everyone, as even that attempt barely got them talking to each other.
“I don’t know...” Miranda said to one of her friends after another attempt at this. “It feels like... something’s off?”
“I don’t know why?” Aaron said, mirroring that sentiment with his own friends. “Whenever I try to talk the words get stuck in my throat. It’s really annoying.”
“You’re telling me,” Their friends would say, but eventually the attempts stopped. If it was going to happen it would just have to rely on them not getting stuck on what to say. So, they stopped, and eventually say them ever so slowly say more than single word answers to one another.
“Hey...” Aaron eventually said, managing to get words out of his throat. “You uh, look good?’ Miranda looked at him with a million-yard stare in response, like something had just forcefully inserted a Lego brick under her foot.
“Thanks...” she responded, trying her best to not blush. “You, too.” her response got a similar feeling out of Aaron, and neither of them knew why. It just made it more awkward, if that was even possible.
They tried again, but both had that same strange feeling. Not that either of them was hiding something, but something that matched up with that strange discomfort in the back of their minds. Each time they tried to talk outside of a class they just froze.
“Why can’t we talk?” Aaron had written on a note, trying to see if that was going to cause the same thing. He slid it over to Miranda and got a response back.
“No idea, maybe it’s something about our voices?” the note said, with a little drawing of a shrugging cat under it.
“it’s the only thing that makes sense I guess?” Aaron wrote back. The thought of their voices throwing them off was a possibility, but a weird one at that. The bell rang before they could try to piece anything else together, meaning they had to try and focus for the last class of the day.
That night however, both teens decided to look into things. The idea of their voices triggering something uncomfortable was too weird of an idea to shake. A couple hours of searching online brought them to the same conclusion.
“Body and Aspect Swapping. If the process is done incorrectly or too early, the recipients of the swap may experience mild to severe anxiety when meeting with the recipient of the traded aspects.” several articles reported on. The idea of having it done too early was a strange one, but that’s what the restrictions on the process were for. Though, the dates were strange, and both of the teens realized it and opened their emails.
“Did we switch bodies?” they both sent within seconds of the other. “Holy crap we did, didn’t we?”
“Does that mean I was a guy?” Miranda said, not hating the idea and finding some comfort in it that she didn’t quite understand yet.
“I was a girl? Awesome!” Aaron said, something in the back of his mind clicking at that revelation. They quickly started sharing that detail to one another in emails, back and forth. They agreed that this was just something they would’ve found out sooner or later but needed to think of what to do. After all, their parents probably didn’t want to bring it up, let alone have it be brought up to them.
Both teens knew their parents weren’t the type to do it out of malice, that was the one comfort for this. But they wanted the truth. So, it needed to be addressed before the school week resumed.
Each one started the same way with their parents. Asking to speak to their parents in the living room with a bit of printed out information. And for both teens, their parents knew the jig was up the second they saw the papers.
“There were...” one of them would start. The similar story being matched up later. “Complications.” That wasn’t surprising, even if it was before the practice was completely limited to emergencies, swapping infant bodies was used as an attempt to save children.
What no one expected was a mathematic formula of how convoluted the entire procedure was so no laws were violated and all parties involved were kept healthy.
“So... where did the clown come in?” the teens asked, very confused as they looked at pictures taken of the entire procedure.
“The doctor was on call and didn’t have time to wipe the makeup off.” The parents responded, admittedly realizing how bizarre that situation was in hindsight. “It was... a bigger mess than they thought.”
“How many kids were involved in this?” the teens asked, wondering how much of their bodies were on a technical level someone else's.
“We needed at least seven, it was a lot of parts being changed due to blood types and compatibility.” the parents said, taking some time to get the documents out for their kid to look over. “It... was tricky to bring up, and we’re sorry we didn’t tell you sooner.”
“Thanks.” both teens said, looking at the forms.
“So why was I a guy then?” Aaron asked.
“Why a girl?” Miranda asked.
“That... is just how it shook out to be honest.” the parents responded. Trying to find any documents that could help them or their child. “Those parts had to be changed from other kids, and we agreed that if you wanted to change. Well. We'd support you.”
“I need to think on this.” both teens said, turning down the offer of hugs as they went to their rooms.
“How’d yours go?” Aaron asked, trying to not have a kneejerk response. “I... need to think on what to do.”
“Smoother than I expected.” Miranda replied a few minutes later. “Take some time to think, I already know what I want to do.”
“Already?” Aaron responded, frankly surprised his crush had a plan already. “Lucky. No wonder you get better grades.”
“Hey, I can always help you study after this.” Miranda responded. “Just, need to not freeze up when we speak.”
“Yeah, that makes it harder.” Aaron replied.
They went to bed soon after that, with Miranda already knowing what he wanted to do. He fell asleep within a few minutes. Aaron was struggling more, he... didn’t hate his body, but the idea of being a girl was too exciting to deny. Even if they both knew their bodies didn’t affect what their genders were.
It was the most awkward breakfast the next morning. Mostly since the parents were, frankly, expecting more than a quiet acknowledgment of what happened. But the morning went like most others, a tired good morning, breakfast, and both teens sitting in their rooms afterwards.
“I want to swap some things back with you.” Aaron wrote, sending the email before self-doubt could stop it. The teen waited for a while, or rather, what felt like a while. The seconds crawled by with a brutal lack of urgency.
“I was thinking the same thing,” Miranda wrote back. His email response only pausing as he tried to think of something. “Call me Joey now, by the way.”
“So, we’re on the same page,” Aaron responded. “Why Joey?”
“Dunno, seemed to fit.”
“Fair.” Aaron laughed, not bothering with the beating around the bush of trying to justify mistakes on his name. “You seem really prepared for this.”
“Hey, if we get this figured out then we don’t need to worry about it later.” Joey’s response had a big thumbs up on it. “Plus, did your parents have those forms? Mine did and I read through them with breakfast. We can schedule a change easily.”
“Couldn’t focus, but that’s good to know.” Aaron responded, the idea of what names she would pick from were starting to bubble up. “How soon?”
“Next weekend is open to schedule.” Joey replied, sending the website and needed formed. “We just need to agree on what’s being changed.”
“Want your shoulders back?” Aaron said, including a gif of a dog laughing. “Do we have to do this all-in-one go?”
“Hey, it’ll work better for me.” Joey responded. “And I don’t think so? One of my dad's mentioned it could take a couple sessions to get it right.” there was a sigh of relief from Aaron at that. Even if Joey wanted to rush forward, it didn’t sound like he was going to force Aaron to do the same.
“Screw it,” he replied after downloading the forms. “I want the longer hair.”
“Shoulders for hair? Sounds like a fair trade,” was the response. “Anything else?”
“Take my testosterone, please.” Was Aaron’s reply. “And why aren’t we using a chat room?”
“Didn’t think of it,” was Joeys response. Both teens swapping to a chatroom to hash out what was going to be swapped with what.
The parents weren’t ecstatic about it being done, but thankfully if it was reversable now, it would be reversable later. The appointments were made, documents were signed and the next weekend, both teens were ready to go.
Frankly, the procedure had machines right out of a horror movie. But both teens soon were unconscious, and everything started to go to work. Mass was transferred, body shape was altered, and those weird cramps you get in your feet were dealt with.
This was the first time they did this. A general one to allow them to see what they wanted to keep.
Joey loved the fact that now he wasn’t expected to wear skirts. He did so anyway because an entirely new closet of clothes was expensive, and it annoyed people. His hair was short and rough when they both came out of the first session.
Aaron was still picking out her name and had to fight her dads and Joey’s parents to get a dress that no longer fit her crush. Instead of the short buzzcut for simplicities sake, she was now sporting long blonde and pink hair. Right down to her shoulders.
“So...” Aaron started, expecting her voice to give out like it had before when talking to Joey in person. “...what now?” it had been three weeks since the first swap, everything had healed, and Joey had already swooned over Aaron suplexing a bully at school. “I still... like you.”
“Well, we can figure that out.” Joey had grinned, getting Aaron to blush at his smile. “How do you feel about your, old body? I guess?”
“it’s familiar?” Aaron said, trying to hide her blush. “But... not too familiar? Like I can grow into it.” she looked at her hands, a little shocked at how much softer her features had been becoming. Even after the swap her features just got smoother. A doctor mentioned her body was going to be overcompensating for a while on balancing her hormones out.
“Same, I wonder if I'll get taller?” Joey laughed, taking advantage of Aaron looking at her hands to let himself blush. He was definitely feeling the same side effects of the transfer. A level of machismo was hitting him, and aside from noticing girls more, he swore he could take a bear in a fight.
Apparently, this was a near universal male instinct to try and think of an animal they could beat up. Even if logic said they would lose. But it definitely felt better for him as a person. School had been going well, their friends were just glad the awkward teen romance could move past the awkward stage more than worrying about their genders and bodies.
Also seeing the first person to try and start shit wind up with a bloody nose was a very good deterrent. Especially since it was at the first provocation, no one would mess with someone if there was an immediate consequence for doing so.
But the school year went on, and despite the awkward phase staying far longer than anyone would’ve predicted. Eventually Aaron chose Dot as a new name, Joey was still dressing in any way he wanted, skirts and dresses some days but jeans and tank tops other days.
A walking middle finger to the people who still would hold onto his pronouns determining how he was allowed to dress. Meanwhile Dot was going all in on femme fashion, her dads even ordering frilly fancy Lolita style dresses that she would wear on weekends while playing games. The dissonance between her playing Doom and dressed like she was supposed to be a princess was something Joey couldn’t get enough of.
And that was something that, after literally so many events that should’ve pushed them together, it happened at the last possible moment of high school. With their friends celebrating just for the mental relief of not having to picture the two dumbasses not being together when they should've been.
The cream pies being thrown at them was definitely their revenge for the years of indecisiveness after an immediate connection. Everyone was laughing as pie filling was being cleaned off the pair, their friend groups ribbing them endlessly as they finally had their first kiss.
At least, first one that didn’t result in literal butting heads due to a height difference. Or a phone going of, or any other number of perfectly timed mood killers. Both of them were, frankly, happier, even if they didn’t realize they were unhappy before. The weight of discomfort they’d both been experiencing hadn’t bothered them for the last years of high school, and they certainly weren’t going to bother them in the future.
“So... what next?” Dot said, still picking bits of pie out of her pink and blonde hair. She didn’t even remember what she asked her natural hair color to be at this point. “More school? Work?”
“How about an actual first date,” Joey chuckled, knowing his prom suit and dress were going to have stains on them for years. “Unless you want to count when I schooled you at the arcade?”
“You mean where I kicked your ass?” Dot teased, flicking a bit of pie off her dress onto Joey’s shoes. “Someone doesn’t remember how many tokens you spent on me.”
“Fine, rematch!” Joey laughed, sending a bit of pie back at Dot. “And then a date!”
“Works for me!” Dot laughed as they resumed the pie slinging until they were forcibly stopped by their parents.
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Commissioned for Anonymous on Twitter, their OC Freja gaining a magical staff and dealing with the side effects.
The pursuit of magic was an endless one, for various reasons and goals. Some wanted power, to conquer and destroy. Others wanted to mend the world, bringing peace and joy. Some wanted prestige, fame and fortune abound. So naturally there was a cavalcade of motivations for people, some good and some ill.
And more than you’d expect were just plain selfish. Even if it was for a dare or to satisfy one's ego thousands would pursue it. Some ancient magi prepared for this and set up punishments for those who would rob graves or delve into tombs in a quest for power.
One such person was a powerful sorceress, Prinzessin Freja Von Rosenburg. A young woman gifted in the magical arts who naturally wanted to have the best of the best in terms of magical equipment and prestige. Naturally, however, this had led to a bit of an ego problem with the woman.
Born to a prince elect, having access to anything she could want and being talented in magic. It was a damning combination. Especially when she realized what she could force her way through due to her large personality and similarly large assets. Meaning it was a simple task to get adventurers hired to get what she wanted if it’d turn out to be a challenge.
And she did, a group of her servants and adventurers looking to move up socially were easy to buy. Especially for a dangerous place full of dust and dirt. Monsters were no issue, after all she was the most powerful person (in her own mind) in the world.
So, the traps had been sprung, the monsters had been blasted and she hadn’t even had to risk chipping a nail. Her entourage was exhausted, but the relic she wanted was right in front of her.
“Well, thanks to MY hard work,” She boasted, knowing the grumbles from her group were just proving how hard she worked. “We have our treasure!” and said treasure was now being held right against her body. The pink staff of some powerful mage she didn’t care to remember the name of.
“Ugh, how tacky.” she mumbled as she motioned for her entourage to start carrying her out. “Really? A heart? I heard this old fogy was cringe, but I didn’t think it’d be that bad.” She ignored the grumblings of her allies, since after all they should just be happy, she is letting them use this as experience and exposure. “Come on, move faster! Everything's dealt with and I am not chipping a nail!”
There was almost no resistance from any of the other adventurers, they all knew they would get paid one way or another. Even If the bratty woman who hired them didn’t want too. But nonetheless, it was a pain to carry someone out of a dungeon, almost worse than carrying them in.
The trip back was thankfully uneventful, other than more grumbling from the people who did most of the work.
“And now, adieu!” Freja laughed, leaving the adventurers on the doorstep as she took the artifact with her. The tired grumbles now leaving her mind as she admired her treasure in actual lighting. It certainly had an aura of powerful magic, maybe if she had bothered to pay attention to stories about the sorcerer who used it, she would know more. But that stuff was just boring to her, why should she care about the past?
But now, as she entered her lavish bed spread and looked at herself in the mirror. She saw the most horrible thing that could have happened to a brave and more importantly beautiful magic user.
Her dress had the slightest, most miniscule smudge on it. It could’ve been from anything, dust, her entourage, even the staff itself could’ve had some dirt fall on her.
“Augh, of course! Of course, someone got me dirty!” she wailed, no one really paying her mind as it was a normal occurrence for her to be overdramatic. “Utterly disgusting and useless, all of them! Now I need a new outfit!”
Her doors slammed shut, her closet slammed open, and her clothing was flung with reckless abandon over her bed and her treasure. Thus, distracting her from doing literally any research or investigating what she had acquired. Just leaving it alone as something in its ancient magic started to stir.
The staff glowed, obscured from all prying eyes. Despite her intellect and magical prowess, Freja’s ego eclipsed that. All she knew was the staff’s beneficial powers, so she was completely unprepared for the ramifications of it. No detect curses, no warding’s, just pure unfiltered ego to protect her from anything.
But, for now, she wouldn’t notice. She was too busy fixing her new outfit. A black silk dress with gold trim and inlaid fabric. Tights that showed off her curves and a few adjustments to the top allowed it to show off her body in a way that screamed ‘I own you’ to passersby who didn’t know better. Elegant, eye catching and entrancing. All to be mocked and denied when someone approached her.
The princess flipped her hair, letting the red locks cascade down to her shoulders, free of all bindings she needed for travel. After all, she couldn’t risk her hair getting things like dirt and debris in it. Then were her gloves, full length and connected to her dress as she adjusted things with each hand.
A simple, elegant dress for whatever the mage wanted. Tea, dinner, anyone she could command? Frankly if she didn’t feel this was her norm, one could assume she thought the entire world belonged to her.
Some makeup, jewelry, and she was ready for the evening, and naturally she needed to take her new staff. While pink was not her ideal color, the contrast would be eye catching and entrancing. The benefits of the staff being just the slightest bit taller than her. And that was the first chance it had to work on its new master.
She didn’t notice anything, not at first, as she carefully looked at her staff and grimaced.
“it’s so tacky... but it should make me totally unstoppable if I want it too.” she grumbled, pleasantly surprised that it was very light despite its length. “Well, it’s famous, so it’ll just make me look better!”
There was a tug at the back of her mind, that maybe she should investigate her new equipment more. Ensure she didn’t forget something important about it. But of course, she didn’t feel the need too, after all she was a fantastic magic user in her own right.
So now she went out, purely on the town to show off. Herself, the staff, her own prowess of how she definitely earned this artifact with her own skill and not from forcing others to do the work for her.
Her door swung open as she walked out, the clack of her heels echoing through the building as she strode towards the entrance. Servants took quick glimpses at her, after all, she wanted all eyes on her and her new toy.
At least, she wanted them on her for her looks and her status, not for why she found herself with a maid on the floor in front of her. Or a sudden pain in her chest.
To onlookers, she had just confidently plowed into one of the maids due to her ego. So, they all knew to expect the princess to explode and drag the maid verbally across the entire castle. They waited, with bated breath, knowing just how ruthless she would be.
And nothing, not a single spoiled scream came from the noble. A few people looked up, and with an uncharacteristic gentleness, Freja was extending her hand.
“Well? Get up!” she said, not sure why she was doing this. But something was making this small act of kindness feel phenomenal. “Just be more careful next time.” The maid was stunned and slowly stood up, mumbled some sort of apology that Freja didn’t care enough to hear as she walked off.
“Wait... she got dirt on me, didn’t she?” the mage said, looking down at her dress. Thankfully there wasn’t a smudge on her. Nothing was out of place or dirtied by the collision. Not even the fit of her dress needed adjustment. “Well... good!”
Again, something was nagging at her in the back of her mind. She did yell at the maid who so rudely walked in her vicinity. She should be livid, furious, dragged her for her insolence of thinking she could even exist in her presence. But there was no anger, not even a hint of irritation at the lower-class servant being near her.
“Hmph!” Freja said with a smirk to no one in particular. “Clearly my adventures have just made me tolerate the low class’s mistakes!” She continued to stride off, not quite sure what the feeling in the back of her mind was, knowing it couldn’t be anything that would affect her on a significant level. Or more accurately, her ego was telling her that.
However, as she walked, the incidents continued. From someone wanting to compliment her dress, to smaller collisions that should’ve by all rights let her fly off the handle. But she didn’t, in fact, she felt better every time she didn’t explode at someone.
Clearly the adventure had tired her out. She couldn’t possibly be turning... nice, could she?
“Nice? To those cretins?” She mumbled as she shook her head, catching her hair frizzing out now that she could tell something was wrong. “Never. Not in a million years!” She was above them all of course, she was smarter, more powerful than most of the rabble in this region. Her parents were both skilled mages and her father was a prince elect. She was factually above everyone in her mind.
Her staff was just the icing on the cake. The symbol that proved she was in fact a skilled mage, even if she couldn’t care less about the history behind it. All she needed to know about it was that it was hers now, and it would increase her power.
Though, the longer she was holding it, having it near her, it was correlating with the sudden change in demeanor. She stopped and dipped into a side street free of anyone who could see her. Freja needed to get control of whatever was going on.
“...Wait... what do I do here?” she mumbled, trying to rack her brain for what could even be going on. There was a level of fogginess to her brain that wasn’t there before. “Maybe I'm tired...” she sighed, not wanting to risk running into anyone else now. “Being nice to these... people, shouldn’t feel good.”
The words left her mouth as the feeling of something strange tickled the back of her mind. She needed to think but was finding it significantly harder at the moment. The staff moved from hand to hand as she tried to think of what could be going on.
But it was getting so hard to think, her mind was unfocused, and she was finding herself dealing with some... feelings. In her body. Specifically, her lower body. Every little thing, little nice thing she found herself doing made that fogginess and feeling grow.
What’s worse is she didn’t think she hated it. But for now, she needed to try and get control of the situation. Her, her staff, and her dignity needed to make it back home intact. She just needed to figure out how to cover the short distance back home and to her room without being seen or interacting with anyone.
And then the people she hired to get the darned staff in the first place saw her. In all her elegance and glory, hiding in a back alley. Both the group and Freja paused, let an awkward silence fall between them and stand awkwardly.
“You,” one of them sighed, very visibly not pleased at seeing the noble.
“Me!” Freja said, trying to force her composure to work with her. Her posture going from awkwardly slumped over to trying to stand over the group. “You. All of you. Did. Uhm...”
“Our jobs?” one of them said, looking at her with confusion. The party was clearly not in the adventuring mood since they had changed more or less to casual clothing. “You mean the ones you barely paid us for?”
“Y-Yes!” Freja stammered, feeling that fogginess fill her head as she spoke. “Those jobs you did, uhm... what’s the word...? Tres Magnifique!” Using another language would certainly help her regain control of whatever was going on. Or at least that’s what she was hoping would happen.
“Yeah,” one of the adventurers said, a woman who frankly was a full head taller than the princess said. “Glad you got that part right.” The group murmured similar dissatisfaction with their client as their boss, who Freja was desperately trying to remember the name of, walked over to the princess. “And the other part you didn’t.”
“w-well, that.” she said, trying to muster up the primal energy of her magic to make this ruffian, who now just happened to be looking very attractive to her; remember her place. “Yes. Well. You did, Do... good work.”
“Great work.”
“Great work!” The princess stammered, her head getting foggier as she fought the urge to reward these adventurers more than she planned. “a-and you really, uhm...” the words stopped coming to her, whatever was causing this mental block was winning.
“Compensation.” the lead adventurer said with a blunt tone and expression. “You were all up there on your little chair you demanded we carry and didn’t put any risk on. So. Com. Pen. Sation. Miss Princess.”
Freja literally couldn’t find the words, her body felt like it was burning as she tried, desperately to maintain her ego due to her skill and position. But something was screaming at her to give in to their demands.
“y-yes, you... you were very good at carrying me, an-and keeping me safe so I got this, fabulous, staff.” she managed to fumble out. “I-I suppose that.” her mind screamed at her not to do what she was thinking of. “You, should. Get uhm, more... money?”
“And that we’re agreed on.” the leader said, backing away as Freja felt her knees buckle. Not enough to fall, but enough that the adventurers noticed. “You can’t pretend we hurt you, so don’t try anything.” the larger woman sighed, knowing that if they even moved a hair out of place the noble would unleash the fury of a thousand suns on them.
“I, I would never! I have my dignity!” Freja blurted out, feeling the warmth dissipate from her lower body as she regained her balance. “j-just do one job for me, and I’ll pay you double.”
“Triple.”
“Two and a half!”
“Quadruple.”
“Uhm... fine. That’s less than triple!” Freja said, trying, and failing, to shove the leader out of the way. “Just, get me back home! Please.” The party looked at her, then each other before stepping away and grouping up.
“She’s acting weird, right?” a smaller woman in the group whispered.
“Yeah, she is.” several others agreed. “What do we do, boss?”
“Get her home, last thing we need is her dad thinking we hurt her.” the large woman sighed. The huddle broke and they looked at the princess, her cheeks purple on her blue hued skin with a blush. “All right, we’ll get you home. But we’re getting our pay.”
“V-very good!” Freja stammered, taking a step in the completely wrong direction before the boss of the adventurers stopped her. “I, just needed to go around you! I know where I live!” she said, feeling odd as she wasn’t demanding to be carried by them.
“Right...” the boss said, looking at her team with a skeptically raised eyebrow. They followed her in mostly silence, each member looking more and more confused as they had to direct the princess back towards where she, presumably, had just left.
“Take a left,” the boss said, seeing Freja stumble on where to go again. “Seriously, you might need a doctor.”
“T-thank you for your concern!” Freja stammered back, “It is very, nice, of you!” Every little positive word that came out of her mouth made the head fog come back, and the warm sensation between her legs escalate.
What’s worse is that she was starting to think she liked this feeling. Every little word of thanks or polite sentence she uttered made it harder to not succumb to this feeling. Of course, she was arguing with herself the whole time about it, she was above people who worked and earned things the hard way. She was a skilled mage and practically halfway to royalty. Lowering herself to have things like respect and kindness for those less fortunate was beneath her!
At least, that’s what she wanted to think. But with every little nudge, begrudged sigh and word of thanks she gave to this adventuring party, she found it both harder to think and harder to disagree with the new thoughts filling her head.
Not to mention, every time she looked at the adventurers, something else started to build. They worked so hard and put up with her when she was so rude. Maybe, just maybe, they deserved more than money.
The thought was pushed down as they finally reached her home. The guards looked at the group with confusion as the leader of the adventurers just shrugged.
“Prinzessin?” one of them said as she hurried past them.
“Just, pay them! What they want!” she shouted, vanishing into the building to try and cope with the bizarre feelings. She rushed past everyone, blurting out apologies she wished she didn’t mean to them as they all looked at her with confusion.
“Okay, fuck.” she sighed, not even mentally chiding herself for the curse word. “What is going on,” she fell unceremoniously on her bed and let the staff fall to the floor. Her head was pounding, the fog was still in her mind, she didn’t even dare try to heal the headache she was now suffering from.
She sat in silence for a while, the headache growing worse as she thought about apologizing to everyone she ran past without so much as a hello. It sickened her and left her with more questions than answers.
“Okay, screw this,” she mumbled, grabbing her staff once again and staring at it. “You, you boost magic, time to get rid of this headache!” It was a simple healing spell, even if she couldn’t focus it’d be simple enough to cast.
The spell was case and Freja blinked for a minute. Just waiting to feel the relief of a clear head and no more strange thoughts. She hummed, feeling the pressure dissipate from her mind,
“Oh... that’s so much better,” she sighed, turning over and looking at the ceiling. “...what was I doing again?” The thoughts escaped her, but at least she didn’t have a headache. “Can’t have been important in that case then.”
She waited in her room, just in case her head started hurting again. Some people were moving back and forth outside of her room, had she really made such a scene? With a shrug, Freja stood up from her bed and walked to the door. Opening it to see the maid she had collided with earlier.
“Oh! You!” she said, feeling a soft smile form on her face. The maid looked nervous, and probably was expecting a verbal beatdown. “Oh my gosh, I am, so sorry for running into you!” the noble said, getting the Maid to visibly relax.
And then an idea, a horrible, status destroying idea came to Freja.
And she couldn’t care less about the implications of it.
If verbally making someone feel good was making her feel fantastic, then what if she took it a step further?
“Come into my room! I need to make it up to you!” she said, the maid turning beet red as she nodded. A careful step inside, the turn of the lock on the door, and a dirty look at the maid were all Freja needed to make sure this maid knew how good she could feel as an apology.
The pursuit of magic was an endless one, for various reasons and goals. Some wanted power, to conquer and destroy. Others wanted to mend the world, bringing peace and joy. Some wanted prestige, fame and fortune abound. So naturally there was a cavalcade of motivations for people, some good and some ill.
And more than you’d expect were just plain selfish. Even if it was for a dare or to satisfy one's ego thousands would pursue it. Some ancient magi prepared for this and set up punishments for those who would rob graves or delve into tombs in a quest for power.
One such person was a powerful sorceress, Prinzessin Freja Von Rosenburg. A young woman gifted in the magical arts who naturally wanted to have the best of the best in terms of magical equipment and prestige. Naturally, however, this had led to a bit of an ego problem with the woman.
Born to a prince elect, having access to anything she could want and being talented in magic. It was a damning combination. Especially when she realized what she could force her way through due to her large personality and similarly large assets. Meaning it was a simple task to get adventurers hired to get what she wanted if it’d turn out to be a challenge.
And she did, a group of her servants and adventurers looking to move up socially were easy to buy. Especially for a dangerous place full of dust and dirt. Monsters were no issue, after all she was the most powerful person (in her own mind) in the world.
So, the traps had been sprung, the monsters had been blasted and she hadn’t even had to risk chipping a nail. Her entourage was exhausted, but the relic she wanted was right in front of her.
“Well, thanks to MY hard work,” She boasted, knowing the grumbles from her group were just proving how hard she worked. “We have our treasure!” and said treasure was now being held right against her body. The pink staff of some powerful mage she didn’t care to remember the name of.
“Ugh, how tacky.” she mumbled as she motioned for her entourage to start carrying her out. “Really? A heart? I heard this old fogy was cringe, but I didn’t think it’d be that bad.” She ignored the grumblings of her allies, since after all they should just be happy, she is letting them use this as experience and exposure. “Come on, move faster! Everything's dealt with and I am not chipping a nail!”
There was almost no resistance from any of the other adventurers, they all knew they would get paid one way or another. Even If the bratty woman who hired them didn’t want too. But nonetheless, it was a pain to carry someone out of a dungeon, almost worse than carrying them in.
The trip back was thankfully uneventful, other than more grumbling from the people who did most of the work.
“And now, adieu!” Freja laughed, leaving the adventurers on the doorstep as she took the artifact with her. The tired grumbles now leaving her mind as she admired her treasure in actual lighting. It certainly had an aura of powerful magic, maybe if she had bothered to pay attention to stories about the sorcerer who used it, she would know more. But that stuff was just boring to her, why should she care about the past?
But now, as she entered her lavish bed spread and looked at herself in the mirror. She saw the most horrible thing that could have happened to a brave and more importantly beautiful magic user.
Her dress had the slightest, most miniscule smudge on it. It could’ve been from anything, dust, her entourage, even the staff itself could’ve had some dirt fall on her.
“Augh, of course! Of course, someone got me dirty!” she wailed, no one really paying her mind as it was a normal occurrence for her to be overdramatic. “Utterly disgusting and useless, all of them! Now I need a new outfit!”
Her doors slammed shut, her closet slammed open, and her clothing was flung with reckless abandon over her bed and her treasure. Thus, distracting her from doing literally any research or investigating what she had acquired. Just leaving it alone as something in its ancient magic started to stir.
The staff glowed, obscured from all prying eyes. Despite her intellect and magical prowess, Freja’s ego eclipsed that. All she knew was the staff’s beneficial powers, so she was completely unprepared for the ramifications of it. No detect curses, no warding’s, just pure unfiltered ego to protect her from anything.
But, for now, she wouldn’t notice. She was too busy fixing her new outfit. A black silk dress with gold trim and inlaid fabric. Tights that showed off her curves and a few adjustments to the top allowed it to show off her body in a way that screamed ‘I own you’ to passersby who didn’t know better. Elegant, eye catching and entrancing. All to be mocked and denied when someone approached her.
The princess flipped her hair, letting the red locks cascade down to her shoulders, free of all bindings she needed for travel. After all, she couldn’t risk her hair getting things like dirt and debris in it. Then were her gloves, full length and connected to her dress as she adjusted things with each hand.
A simple, elegant dress for whatever the mage wanted. Tea, dinner, anyone she could command? Frankly if she didn’t feel this was her norm, one could assume she thought the entire world belonged to her.
Some makeup, jewelry, and she was ready for the evening, and naturally she needed to take her new staff. While pink was not her ideal color, the contrast would be eye catching and entrancing. The benefits of the staff being just the slightest bit taller than her. And that was the first chance it had to work on its new master.
She didn’t notice anything, not at first, as she carefully looked at her staff and grimaced.
“it’s so tacky... but it should make me totally unstoppable if I want it too.” she grumbled, pleasantly surprised that it was very light despite its length. “Well, it’s famous, so it’ll just make me look better!”
There was a tug at the back of her mind, that maybe she should investigate her new equipment more. Ensure she didn’t forget something important about it. But of course, she didn’t feel the need too, after all she was a fantastic magic user in her own right.
So now she went out, purely on the town to show off. Herself, the staff, her own prowess of how she definitely earned this artifact with her own skill and not from forcing others to do the work for her.
Her door swung open as she walked out, the clack of her heels echoing through the building as she strode towards the entrance. Servants took quick glimpses at her, after all, she wanted all eyes on her and her new toy.
At least, she wanted them on her for her looks and her status, not for why she found herself with a maid on the floor in front of her. Or a sudden pain in her chest.
To onlookers, she had just confidently plowed into one of the maids due to her ego. So, they all knew to expect the princess to explode and drag the maid verbally across the entire castle. They waited, with bated breath, knowing just how ruthless she would be.
And nothing, not a single spoiled scream came from the noble. A few people looked up, and with an uncharacteristic gentleness, Freja was extending her hand.
“Well? Get up!” she said, not sure why she was doing this. But something was making this small act of kindness feel phenomenal. “Just be more careful next time.” The maid was stunned and slowly stood up, mumbled some sort of apology that Freja didn’t care enough to hear as she walked off.
“Wait... she got dirt on me, didn’t she?” the mage said, looking down at her dress. Thankfully there wasn’t a smudge on her. Nothing was out of place or dirtied by the collision. Not even the fit of her dress needed adjustment. “Well... good!”
Again, something was nagging at her in the back of her mind. She did yell at the maid who so rudely walked in her vicinity. She should be livid, furious, dragged her for her insolence of thinking she could even exist in her presence. But there was no anger, not even a hint of irritation at the lower-class servant being near her.
“Hmph!” Freja said with a smirk to no one in particular. “Clearly my adventures have just made me tolerate the low class’s mistakes!” She continued to stride off, not quite sure what the feeling in the back of her mind was, knowing it couldn’t be anything that would affect her on a significant level. Or more accurately, her ego was telling her that.
However, as she walked, the incidents continued. From someone wanting to compliment her dress, to smaller collisions that should’ve by all rights let her fly off the handle. But she didn’t, in fact, she felt better every time she didn’t explode at someone.
Clearly the adventure had tired her out. She couldn’t possibly be turning... nice, could she?
“Nice? To those cretins?” She mumbled as she shook her head, catching her hair frizzing out now that she could tell something was wrong. “Never. Not in a million years!” She was above them all of course, she was smarter, more powerful than most of the rabble in this region. Her parents were both skilled mages and her father was a prince elect. She was factually above everyone in her mind.
Her staff was just the icing on the cake. The symbol that proved she was in fact a skilled mage, even if she couldn’t care less about the history behind it. All she needed to know about it was that it was hers now, and it would increase her power.
Though, the longer she was holding it, having it near her, it was correlating with the sudden change in demeanor. She stopped and dipped into a side street free of anyone who could see her. Freja needed to get control of whatever was going on.
“...Wait... what do I do here?” she mumbled, trying to rack her brain for what could even be going on. There was a level of fogginess to her brain that wasn’t there before. “Maybe I'm tired...” she sighed, not wanting to risk running into anyone else now. “Being nice to these... people, shouldn’t feel good.”
The words left her mouth as the feeling of something strange tickled the back of her mind. She needed to think but was finding it significantly harder at the moment. The staff moved from hand to hand as she tried to think of what could be going on.
But it was getting so hard to think, her mind was unfocused, and she was finding herself dealing with some... feelings. In her body. Specifically, her lower body. Every little thing, little nice thing she found herself doing made that fogginess and feeling grow.
What’s worse is she didn’t think she hated it. But for now, she needed to try and get control of the situation. Her, her staff, and her dignity needed to make it back home intact. She just needed to figure out how to cover the short distance back home and to her room without being seen or interacting with anyone.
And then the people she hired to get the darned staff in the first place saw her. In all her elegance and glory, hiding in a back alley. Both the group and Freja paused, let an awkward silence fall between them and stand awkwardly.
“You,” one of them sighed, very visibly not pleased at seeing the noble.
“Me!” Freja said, trying to force her composure to work with her. Her posture going from awkwardly slumped over to trying to stand over the group. “You. All of you. Did. Uhm...”
“Our jobs?” one of them said, looking at her with confusion. The party was clearly not in the adventuring mood since they had changed more or less to casual clothing. “You mean the ones you barely paid us for?”
“Y-Yes!” Freja stammered, feeling that fogginess fill her head as she spoke. “Those jobs you did, uhm... what’s the word...? Tres Magnifique!” Using another language would certainly help her regain control of whatever was going on. Or at least that’s what she was hoping would happen.
“Yeah,” one of the adventurers said, a woman who frankly was a full head taller than the princess said. “Glad you got that part right.” The group murmured similar dissatisfaction with their client as their boss, who Freja was desperately trying to remember the name of, walked over to the princess. “And the other part you didn’t.”
“w-well, that.” she said, trying to muster up the primal energy of her magic to make this ruffian, who now just happened to be looking very attractive to her; remember her place. “Yes. Well. You did, Do... good work.”
“Great work.”
“Great work!” The princess stammered, her head getting foggier as she fought the urge to reward these adventurers more than she planned. “a-and you really, uhm...” the words stopped coming to her, whatever was causing this mental block was winning.
“Compensation.” the lead adventurer said with a blunt tone and expression. “You were all up there on your little chair you demanded we carry and didn’t put any risk on. So. Com. Pen. Sation. Miss Princess.”
Freja literally couldn’t find the words, her body felt like it was burning as she tried, desperately to maintain her ego due to her skill and position. But something was screaming at her to give in to their demands.
“y-yes, you... you were very good at carrying me, an-and keeping me safe so I got this, fabulous, staff.” she managed to fumble out. “I-I suppose that.” her mind screamed at her not to do what she was thinking of. “You, should. Get uhm, more... money?”
“And that we’re agreed on.” the leader said, backing away as Freja felt her knees buckle. Not enough to fall, but enough that the adventurers noticed. “You can’t pretend we hurt you, so don’t try anything.” the larger woman sighed, knowing that if they even moved a hair out of place the noble would unleash the fury of a thousand suns on them.
“I, I would never! I have my dignity!” Freja blurted out, feeling the warmth dissipate from her lower body as she regained her balance. “j-just do one job for me, and I’ll pay you double.”
“Triple.”
“Two and a half!”
“Quadruple.”
“Uhm... fine. That’s less than triple!” Freja said, trying, and failing, to shove the leader out of the way. “Just, get me back home! Please.” The party looked at her, then each other before stepping away and grouping up.
“She’s acting weird, right?” a smaller woman in the group whispered.
“Yeah, she is.” several others agreed. “What do we do, boss?”
“Get her home, last thing we need is her dad thinking we hurt her.” the large woman sighed. The huddle broke and they looked at the princess, her cheeks purple on her blue hued skin with a blush. “All right, we’ll get you home. But we’re getting our pay.”
“V-very good!” Freja stammered, taking a step in the completely wrong direction before the boss of the adventurers stopped her. “I, just needed to go around you! I know where I live!” she said, feeling odd as she wasn’t demanding to be carried by them.
“Right...” the boss said, looking at her team with a skeptically raised eyebrow. They followed her in mostly silence, each member looking more and more confused as they had to direct the princess back towards where she, presumably, had just left.
“Take a left,” the boss said, seeing Freja stumble on where to go again. “Seriously, you might need a doctor.”
“T-thank you for your concern!” Freja stammered back, “It is very, nice, of you!” Every little positive word that came out of her mouth made the head fog come back, and the warm sensation between her legs escalate.
What’s worse is that she was starting to think she liked this feeling. Every little word of thanks or polite sentence she uttered made it harder to not succumb to this feeling. Of course, she was arguing with herself the whole time about it, she was above people who worked and earned things the hard way. She was a skilled mage and practically halfway to royalty. Lowering herself to have things like respect and kindness for those less fortunate was beneath her!
At least, that’s what she wanted to think. But with every little nudge, begrudged sigh and word of thanks she gave to this adventuring party, she found it both harder to think and harder to disagree with the new thoughts filling her head.
Not to mention, every time she looked at the adventurers, something else started to build. They worked so hard and put up with her when she was so rude. Maybe, just maybe, they deserved more than money.
The thought was pushed down as they finally reached her home. The guards looked at the group with confusion as the leader of the adventurers just shrugged.
“Prinzessin?” one of them said as she hurried past them.
“Just, pay them! What they want!” she shouted, vanishing into the building to try and cope with the bizarre feelings. She rushed past everyone, blurting out apologies she wished she didn’t mean to them as they all looked at her with confusion.
“Okay, fuck.” she sighed, not even mentally chiding herself for the curse word. “What is going on,” she fell unceremoniously on her bed and let the staff fall to the floor. Her head was pounding, the fog was still in her mind, she didn’t even dare try to heal the headache she was now suffering from.
She sat in silence for a while, the headache growing worse as she thought about apologizing to everyone she ran past without so much as a hello. It sickened her and left her with more questions than answers.
“Okay, screw this,” she mumbled, grabbing her staff once again and staring at it. “You, you boost magic, time to get rid of this headache!” It was a simple healing spell, even if she couldn’t focus it’d be simple enough to cast.
The spell was case and Freja blinked for a minute. Just waiting to feel the relief of a clear head and no more strange thoughts. She hummed, feeling the pressure dissipate from her mind,
“Oh... that’s so much better,” she sighed, turning over and looking at the ceiling. “...what was I doing again?” The thoughts escaped her, but at least she didn’t have a headache. “Can’t have been important in that case then.”
She waited in her room, just in case her head started hurting again. Some people were moving back and forth outside of her room, had she really made such a scene? With a shrug, Freja stood up from her bed and walked to the door. Opening it to see the maid she had collided with earlier.
“Oh! You!” she said, feeling a soft smile form on her face. The maid looked nervous, and probably was expecting a verbal beatdown. “Oh my gosh, I am, so sorry for running into you!” the noble said, getting the Maid to visibly relax.
And then an idea, a horrible, status destroying idea came to Freja.
And she couldn’t care less about the implications of it.
If verbally making someone feel good was making her feel fantastic, then what if she took it a step further?
“Come into my room! I need to make it up to you!” she said, the maid turning beet red as she nodded. A careful step inside, the turn of the lock on the door, and a dirty look at the maid were all Freja needed to make sure this maid knew how good she could feel as an apology.
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A short romantic story about two witches on a date, with a twist! They play a game, and the loser of their challenge has to drink an obedience potion!
“Double, double toil and trouble, fire brew and cauldron bubble!” a woman chanted, the room dark aside from the light coming from her stove top. A ladle in one hand while her other was empty, having just dropped something in the pot she was working with. “Er… what was the rest of this incantation…?”
“If you put an eye of newt into our dinner again, I’m not playing fair!” another woman shouted from another room. Getting the first to wince and look at the ingredients next to her. One group was labelled ‘for dinner’ while the other was ‘for later.’
She was thankfully using the items from the correct group of ingredients. Carrots, diced onion, garlic, cumin, potato, bay leaves and of course. Beef. Braised before hand and left at a perfectly cooked medium rare, juices marinating with the stock and aromatics as the pot bubbled. A spoon was carefully lowered in after the finishing touches of seasoning were added, stirring it gently to make sure every flavor got to dance as it cooked.
“There!” the woman said, putting a lid on the pot and grabbing a timer. “It’ll be ready soon!”
“Are you using the kitty kat timer?” the other woman said, still from another room. “That one makes the cutest noise when it’s done!”
“I am!” the woman said, stepping out of the kitchen with the timer in hand. “You made it after all, Mica.” Now that she was out of the kitchen she kept dark entirely for mood lighting, despite obvious safety issues, in her hand was a modified egg timer, with a calico cat in a chef’s hat on top.
“Still bringing it out on nights like tonight?” Mica laughed, sitting on the plush sofa. “Filled with confidence aren’t we, Layla?” She was wearing a black tee shirt, with a pink broken heart with a bandage over it, a blanket covering her from the waist down and fingerless leather gloves. Her black hair was a tangled ball of knots thanks to being done up in a ponytail, and she was carefully using a brush to manage it.
“I mean… after what happened last time?” Layla mumbled as she turned the timer and set it down between her partner as it gave a little tuned meow. She was wearing jeans missing most of the left leg and a red tee shirt, with her blue hair done up in a braided ponytail. “I think my feet are still sore from carrying you everywhere.”
“And the time before that?” Mica chuckled, motioning for her girlfriend to sit down next to her. “Where I made you moan all night long with any touch, you couldn’t even sleep until it wore off.”
“And that’s why we only do this when we don’t have work the next morning,” Layla said, trying to resist giggling as she remembered what happened. “But tonight will be different!”
“Like how it was so different when I had you forget that you were naked and spent all day walking around my place with everything hanging out?”
“Yes! But still! I’m going to win tonight babe!” Layla said, standing triumphantly as her girlfriend gave a skeptical eyebrow raise. There was a beat, only the awkward silence of Face Off playing in the background as the two women stared each other down.
And then launched into a full make out session despite the mood killing movie. Their hands cupped each others’ waists as they let the movie play and the timer slowly tick down. Their hair mixed as Layla leaned forward, carefully pinning her partner in witchery and romance.
“Meow! Meow! Meow!” the timer interrupted. Getting both sapphic sorceresses to stop mid kiss. It kept meowing as they both flushed as the very awkward face touching scene started to play on the television, and both sat up.
“Right. The stew!” Mica giggled as Layla fumbled off the couch and ran to the kitchen. Adjusting her top and buttoning up her jeans again. “Oh, wow you were really eager.”
“Food first, making me a quivering mess next week.” The culinary caster mumbled, disappearing around the corner, and let out a content sigh as the aroma of perfectly cooked beef stew filled the house.
“Next week? You mean tonight babe.” Mica teased, knowing her partner's face was red. Both witches enjoyed the build up to these date nights, the teasing, the romance, the bad movies, it was perfect. That’s why she picked Nic Cage movies, something silly and dumb to destress before they got to their ‘friendly’ competition. “I have big plans for you.”
“I made plans for you too!” Layla shouted back, carefully dishing out two bowls of soup and grabbing bread rolls. “I’m just not gonna give you a hint before I win tonight!”
“Oh really?” Mica cooed, giving a look as she magicked over two tv trays. “No hints? Not at all? Nothing special planned from my kitten?” She winked, watching her partner turn beet red in the light of an explosion from the movie. “Not at all? Just going to stay quiet until I make you purr?”
“How do you keep winning when you play your hand that early?!” the chef mumbled, sitting down after handing over the dinner.
“Because you waaaant it,” her girlfriend teased as she reached over and started patting Layla’s head. Getting a soft hum in response as her eyes closed. “Why, if we didn’t have to eat first, I’d definitely start now.”
“Stop having such good fingers and then maybe I’ll resist a bit more,” Layla pouted, looking at her girlfriend as she started laughing. “Oh, I really just said that didn’t I?”
“Magic fingers are my specialty!” Mica laughed, not missing a beat as she put a hand under her girlfriend’s chin. “Now then, I’ll be sure to treat you well after we eat babe.”
“You mean I’ll treat you well!” she countered, sitting back as she started to eat. The two of them slowly lost all desire to talk as the stew was consumed. The beef melting in their mouths, the potato and carrots adding a beautiful texture to each bite, and the rolls absorbing the stew and leaving both women satisfied.
“Okay.” Mica sighed, snuggling up to her girlfriend. “If we ever do a cooking bet, you’d win.”
“Easily! And I’ll win tonight too!” Layla beamed triumphantly. Letting out a triumphant and incredibly overconfident laugh before their challenge had even started. “And you’ll be my plaything!”
Mica smirked, not saying anything aside from letting an eyebrow raised skeptically. Her girlfriend’s laughter slowly, incredibly slowly, faded into an awkward chuckle. There was a pause, only the last action scene of Face Off filling the room as they both quieted down.
“…What was the challenge again?” Layla mumbled, realizing she had not actually prepared for anything but her victory. Her fingers slowly pressed against one another awkwardly as she got a deadpan stare in response. “I uh… forgot.”
“Oh dear, really?”
“I got excited about cooking for you again…” she mumbled, getting her girlfriend to start laughing even harder. Her face turned beet red with every wheeze that she made. “I like cooking okay!?”
“I-I know!” Mica said, trying to stop laughing before pulling Layla into a kiss. “It’s just so cute I couldn’t help but laugh.”
“If I’m so cute then will you let me win?”
“You’re cuter when I have my hands wrapped around your waist, so. No.” the guest in the house smirked, getting a stuck-out tongue in response after a few more minutes of kissing.
“So, the challenge?” Layla said, slowly realizing she may have already lost. “What game were we going to play?”
“Kirby.”
“Dream Course or Air Ride?”
“Air Ride, cause we’re going to be using our feet.” Mica grinned, removing the blanket, and quickly ripping off her socks. “Now let’s get set up!”
“Can we at least play a round of City Trial after?”
One GameCube set up later.
“I want the wireless one!” Layla said, holding the wavebird out of reach from Mica, who refused to move from the couch. “You won last time so it’s only fair!”
“Distance won’t help you win anyway babe.” Her partner teased as they started the game. “You know how good I am with my feet.”
“Don’t mention foot jobs, I’m getting into my Gamer Zone.” Layla deadpanned as she locked eyes with her part of the screen and selected her vehicle. “Pro Gamer time, the pro-est of pros”
“Pro at being my vibrator for a week maybe.” Mica laughed, not remotely worried about losing to her girlfriend. “You’re gonna be wishing I chose something easier in a hot minute babe.”
“It’s Kirby! How hard could it be!”
One run through each course later.
“I lost.” Layla said, looking at how she hadn’t finished any course past 3rd place. In other words, last place. A complete blow out as she was naturally running into walls with her feet at the controls. “Nooooooo! I was in gamer mode!”
“No johns, even if I won because I took my top off.”
“Boobies are good though; I can’t look away!”
“And weren’t you in gamer mode?” Mica smirked, letting her girlfriend admire her chest despite the loss. “Can you really blame me for winning?”
“Can we do a city trial round first at least?” Layla chuckled nervously, knowing she wouldn’t be able to convince her partner regardless of whatever outcome came from that.
“Nope!” the winner laughed, carefully readjusting her top. “No runbacks until next week!”
“Can I at least pick the game?”
“Loser chooses after all!” Mica grinned, standing up and walking to the kitchen. “And now I’ll go make my prize.”
“Can I get a hint at least?”
“Not a chance! It’s no fun until you see the video tomorrow!” Mica laughed as the light turned on in the kitchen. “You know the deal babe.”
“I know, I know…” Layla sighed, turning red as she pulled open a drawer to grab a phone stand. “At least can I get more head pats this time?”
“The potion only works for eight hours; I gave you seven and a half hours of head pats last time!”
“But I LIKE head pats!”
“I am not patting you for more than seven hours forty-five minutes!” There was a pause as Mica looked out of the kitchen, her girlfriend sitting on the arm of the couch with a pouty face. "Puppy eyes won't work on me either babe."
"Damn."
"Nice try though," the winning witch laughed. "Gonna go with something sweet for a flavor~"
"Grumble, grumble," layla said, getting a confused look from her girlfriend.
"Did… did you just, say, grumble out loud because I didn't fall for your cuteness plan?"
"And if I did?"
"Then i'm adding habanero peppers to the potion."
"I DIDN'T I DIDN'T!"
"Good girl, now let me brew."
One hot brewing session later.
“Okay, potion’s on!” Mica said, walking out to the living room again with a cup of pink bubbling liquid. Layla however was nowhere to be seen, or so she’d like to think. “Really babe? I can see your butt poking out behind the couch.”
“No you can’t!” Layla said, shuffling a bit to be completely concealed. “You didn’t win!”
“I won, now you can be a brat once you drink it like we agreed!” the victorious witch laughed as she started chasing her girlfriend around the couch. “You lost fair and square!”
“That doesn't mean I'm gonna make it easy for you!”
“Babe, was playing horny cat and mouse your idea for this week?”
“N-NO!”
“Babe.”
Layla was now standing up with the potion right under her chin. Mica looked at her with a raised eyebrow and confident smile.
“Yes?”
“Just drink the potion, please?”
Wordlessly other than some quiet grumbling, Layla grabbed it, slowly, dramatically, and most importantly, with a playful grin. Downed it. There was a pause as she handed the bottle back.
“So… how long does this one take to work?” she asked, getting only a sly grin from Mca as the bottle was set down on the table. “A few minutes or… oh…” her words trailed off as her eyes glazed over.
“Not instant, but fast enough my dear,” Mica chuckled as she gently took her girlfriend's hand. Carefully made sure she was supported as the potion took effect, slipped an arm around her waist and carefully walked her away from the living room. “There’s a good girl…” she whispered, carefully moving as she watched Layla’s mouth change from a relaxed slack position into a dopey grin.
“Good… girl…” she mumbled, still grinning as her eyes glazed over even more. Every step was now being taken extremely carefully as Mica led her into a back room, right to where a bed was waiting.
“...Really babe?” she sighed, a banner that said ‘Layla wins!’ with party hats and confetti on the bed was what greeted her when the light turned on. “You were that sure?” Her girlfriend slowly nodded, still being put under due to the potion.
“Yes…” she mumbled, Mica forcing her laughter down as she carefully walked towards the bed. “...very… sure…”
“God, you’re cute.” Mica snickered, carefully letting her girlfriend lean back. Not to sleep, but instead wait for her. After all, an obedience potion was only part of the fun.
“Now then…” the witch in control mumbled, as she looked through her bag for what she had planned. “What to do, what to do, what to do with you?” Potions were Mica’s specialty, granted for witches that was almost to be expected. Where Layla was better was with charm magic, so the two made sure there were plenty of components for spells around their abodes.
Mica looked around, not quite sure if she wanted to go as literal as cat and mouse for the night. She may not have said it but she was definitely in more of a mood for some snuggling than outright sex. There’d still be some, why not take advantage of her partner's consent after all? But she wanted to be more intimate.
“Archibald!” she said, remembering the little noodly friend that Layla kept. A ball python in an enclosure perfect for it to slither around in. And thankfully for Mica, still had a small bit of his shedding on the end of his body. She looked at the snake, the snake looked at her, mouth seemingly forced into a goofy smile as it was starting to eat. He wiggled in response to his name.
Mica slid the top of the terrarium open, noting Archibalds cowboy hat sitting on the cold side of the terrarium. She sighed, attempted to put it on the snake, and grabbed a few bits of shedding for her witchy ways.
“You need more hats.”
Archibald wiggled happily on the heated part of the tank in agreement.
“Snake safe hats, we’ll make some for you next week little guy.” she said, the snake now continuing to swallow his dinner as his mind wandered to what hat he would get. Perhaps a wizard hat, or a pirate hat, not that the snake knew what either of those were.
“And now,” she said, dropping the shedding into a vial. “Snake and mouse night begins~” she shook it, vigorously, and watched as it went from clear, to pink, to a dark violet. “Perfect, and now for the other…”
Mica was lucky that her girlfriend loved keeping animals, and that they all had silly hats. A few mice that were probably getting too many snacks were more than happy to get brushed for some fur scraps.
And yes, Archibald was too small to harm them. And yes, they also all had tiny hats.
That was of course the easy part, now with two magic vials Mica had one challenge. Remembering which one was which. One issue the witch faced was a lack of label makers, with every type of potion unfortunately being the same color it would lead to various issues.
The two witches still laughed about the time they accidentally drank clown potions, confetti was still being picked out of the walls from time to time.
“Oh Layla~” Mica said, looking at her entranced half lucid girlfriend. Still laying on the bed with a dopey grin on her face. “I got a treat for you~”
“Baaabe~” She looked up, just a bit, her movements sluggish as she gave a sleepy, heavily entranced wave. “Hiiiiii!”
“Kept you waiting~” she teased, keeping an eye on the potion for herself. ‘Left hand snake, right hand mouse’ she thought, realizing the mistake of changing things on the fly when identical potions were involved. “How’re you feeling?”
“Gooood!” was the response, her entranced gamer gf now trying to sit up. Mca sighed as she walked over, just looking at her made her heart flutter, especially when she was the equivalent of a remote controlled cuddle ditz.
“Good girl,” Mica said as she carefully sat on the bed, wrapped an arm around Layla, lifted one of the potions to her lips, swapped it for the correct one, and moved her mouth next to the entranced woman's ear. “Drink.”
“Mmmm no”
“How are you bratty even when controlled?”
“Tooooooo smart for you! Now gimme the drink!” Layla babbled, trying to reach for the snake potion.
“Shhh,” the other witch said, putting the mouse potion to her partner's lips. “Just drink this one slowly, carefully, and tell me if anything feels wrong. Okay?”
She nodded as the concoction slowly passed her lips, Mica taking careful movements to make sure not a drop was missed, and that she drank it with no risk. There was a pause before she downed her own potion, knowing the transformation would take a moment.
No witches, warlocks or wizards knew why transformations always started in the feet, but they did. So for Layla, despite the potion dulling her awareness, started to giggle. Her feet grew soft white fur that started poking out from her toes, her face elongating into a cute little nose and whiskers. Her ears disappeared and popped out of the top of her head, much larger than before as they took on an adorable mousey appearance.
For Mica, she was more than happy to ditch her legs. The darn things were just a pain to buy pants to put on them anyway. It started at her toes, elongating and fusing into a single point as her joints popped, bones melting and fusing with muscle. After all, most of a snake was just muscle, despite what halloween decorations would lead people to believe. Her jaw popped, widening just enough to allow her jaw to unhinge, should she need to for whatever reason. Little fangs poked their way out and sat on her lower lip comfortably as scales formed along her body.
“Ahh…” she sighed, feeling a few knots in her back remove themselves as it continued. With her entranced mouse morph sitting giggling as she played with her longer fingers and tail in a daze. Her body elongated as she slowly slid out of her clothing, the tail grew as she stretched, settling around at least four times the length of her body. “Much, much better to be like this.”
“Tail go wiggle!” Layla babbled, her face now sporting an adorable set of large front teeth.
‘And yep, her mind is putty in my coils’ Mica grinned, letting a forked tongue escape her lips as the changes finished for them both. She reached out, her hands gently cupping the soft fur of her girlfriends mousey face. There was a squeak as the obedience potion retriggered, locking her gaze on Mica’s face.
“Now my little mouse~” she teased, letting her body start to wrap around the morphed witch. The fur felt amazing, meaning he mice had been taken care of expertly if this was the effect of the potion. “Shall I give you a hug?”
Layla squeaked, her whiskers twitching in excitement as the reptilian coils started binding her feet. She didn’t really have the option or ability to say no, due to the potion and all, and only wiggled in response as her lamia-fied girlfriend kept on coling.
“...I could totally skip the sexy stuff and just hold you like this because you’re so damn soft and cute!” Mica whispered, letting her tongue brush Layla’s neck. “Would you like that, my good mousey girl?” she nodded, despite her senses being dulled she was turning completely red, even through the fur, and gave a slow nod.
“Y-yessss! Layla wants hugs!” she squeaked as Mica gave her a quick kiss on the nose. Her coils wrapping them up and tangling the mouse's tail with the tip of hers. She moved slowly, letting her body act like a tight blanket with every inch of restriction she added to Layla.
“Let me know if I’m being too tight,” she whispered, using her longer body to grab the blanket from the bed and added it to the pair. “I want you snug, not struggling.”
“Mmm, cozy...” Layla mumbled, her eyes drooping as Mica finished constricting her. A pillow moved just behind her head as ica gave her another kiss.
“Good,” the lamia giggled, giving her girlfriend a flurry of kisses as she settled in. her tongue flicking out as she felt the warmth of her girlfriend settle in. “...Absolute control and I settle for soft cuddling as animals we love. Wow, I'm the biggest dork.”
When everything reverted the next morning she was met with a very disappointed Layla, who was expecting to not walk straight for a month. But there was always their next date night to make that fantasy come true.
“Double, double toil and trouble, fire brew and cauldron bubble!” a woman chanted, the room dark aside from the light coming from her stove top. A ladle in one hand while her other was empty, having just dropped something in the pot she was working with. “Er… what was the rest of this incantation…?”
“If you put an eye of newt into our dinner again, I’m not playing fair!” another woman shouted from another room. Getting the first to wince and look at the ingredients next to her. One group was labelled ‘for dinner’ while the other was ‘for later.’
She was thankfully using the items from the correct group of ingredients. Carrots, diced onion, garlic, cumin, potato, bay leaves and of course. Beef. Braised before hand and left at a perfectly cooked medium rare, juices marinating with the stock and aromatics as the pot bubbled. A spoon was carefully lowered in after the finishing touches of seasoning were added, stirring it gently to make sure every flavor got to dance as it cooked.
“There!” the woman said, putting a lid on the pot and grabbing a timer. “It’ll be ready soon!”
“Are you using the kitty kat timer?” the other woman said, still from another room. “That one makes the cutest noise when it’s done!”
“I am!” the woman said, stepping out of the kitchen with the timer in hand. “You made it after all, Mica.” Now that she was out of the kitchen she kept dark entirely for mood lighting, despite obvious safety issues, in her hand was a modified egg timer, with a calico cat in a chef’s hat on top.
“Still bringing it out on nights like tonight?” Mica laughed, sitting on the plush sofa. “Filled with confidence aren’t we, Layla?” She was wearing a black tee shirt, with a pink broken heart with a bandage over it, a blanket covering her from the waist down and fingerless leather gloves. Her black hair was a tangled ball of knots thanks to being done up in a ponytail, and she was carefully using a brush to manage it.
“I mean… after what happened last time?” Layla mumbled as she turned the timer and set it down between her partner as it gave a little tuned meow. She was wearing jeans missing most of the left leg and a red tee shirt, with her blue hair done up in a braided ponytail. “I think my feet are still sore from carrying you everywhere.”
“And the time before that?” Mica chuckled, motioning for her girlfriend to sit down next to her. “Where I made you moan all night long with any touch, you couldn’t even sleep until it wore off.”
“And that’s why we only do this when we don’t have work the next morning,” Layla said, trying to resist giggling as she remembered what happened. “But tonight will be different!”
“Like how it was so different when I had you forget that you were naked and spent all day walking around my place with everything hanging out?”
“Yes! But still! I’m going to win tonight babe!” Layla said, standing triumphantly as her girlfriend gave a skeptical eyebrow raise. There was a beat, only the awkward silence of Face Off playing in the background as the two women stared each other down.
And then launched into a full make out session despite the mood killing movie. Their hands cupped each others’ waists as they let the movie play and the timer slowly tick down. Their hair mixed as Layla leaned forward, carefully pinning her partner in witchery and romance.
“Meow! Meow! Meow!” the timer interrupted. Getting both sapphic sorceresses to stop mid kiss. It kept meowing as they both flushed as the very awkward face touching scene started to play on the television, and both sat up.
“Right. The stew!” Mica giggled as Layla fumbled off the couch and ran to the kitchen. Adjusting her top and buttoning up her jeans again. “Oh, wow you were really eager.”
“Food first, making me a quivering mess next week.” The culinary caster mumbled, disappearing around the corner, and let out a content sigh as the aroma of perfectly cooked beef stew filled the house.
“Next week? You mean tonight babe.” Mica teased, knowing her partner's face was red. Both witches enjoyed the build up to these date nights, the teasing, the romance, the bad movies, it was perfect. That’s why she picked Nic Cage movies, something silly and dumb to destress before they got to their ‘friendly’ competition. “I have big plans for you.”
“I made plans for you too!” Layla shouted back, carefully dishing out two bowls of soup and grabbing bread rolls. “I’m just not gonna give you a hint before I win tonight!”
“Oh really?” Mica cooed, giving a look as she magicked over two tv trays. “No hints? Not at all? Nothing special planned from my kitten?” She winked, watching her partner turn beet red in the light of an explosion from the movie. “Not at all? Just going to stay quiet until I make you purr?”
“How do you keep winning when you play your hand that early?!” the chef mumbled, sitting down after handing over the dinner.
“Because you waaaant it,” her girlfriend teased as she reached over and started patting Layla’s head. Getting a soft hum in response as her eyes closed. “Why, if we didn’t have to eat first, I’d definitely start now.”
“Stop having such good fingers and then maybe I’ll resist a bit more,” Layla pouted, looking at her girlfriend as she started laughing. “Oh, I really just said that didn’t I?”
“Magic fingers are my specialty!” Mica laughed, not missing a beat as she put a hand under her girlfriend’s chin. “Now then, I’ll be sure to treat you well after we eat babe.”
“You mean I’ll treat you well!” she countered, sitting back as she started to eat. The two of them slowly lost all desire to talk as the stew was consumed. The beef melting in their mouths, the potato and carrots adding a beautiful texture to each bite, and the rolls absorbing the stew and leaving both women satisfied.
“Okay.” Mica sighed, snuggling up to her girlfriend. “If we ever do a cooking bet, you’d win.”
“Easily! And I’ll win tonight too!” Layla beamed triumphantly. Letting out a triumphant and incredibly overconfident laugh before their challenge had even started. “And you’ll be my plaything!”
Mica smirked, not saying anything aside from letting an eyebrow raised skeptically. Her girlfriend’s laughter slowly, incredibly slowly, faded into an awkward chuckle. There was a pause, only the last action scene of Face Off filling the room as they both quieted down.
“…What was the challenge again?” Layla mumbled, realizing she had not actually prepared for anything but her victory. Her fingers slowly pressed against one another awkwardly as she got a deadpan stare in response. “I uh… forgot.”
“Oh dear, really?”
“I got excited about cooking for you again…” she mumbled, getting her girlfriend to start laughing even harder. Her face turned beet red with every wheeze that she made. “I like cooking okay!?”
“I-I know!” Mica said, trying to stop laughing before pulling Layla into a kiss. “It’s just so cute I couldn’t help but laugh.”
“If I’m so cute then will you let me win?”
“You’re cuter when I have my hands wrapped around your waist, so. No.” the guest in the house smirked, getting a stuck-out tongue in response after a few more minutes of kissing.
“So, the challenge?” Layla said, slowly realizing she may have already lost. “What game were we going to play?”
“Kirby.”
“Dream Course or Air Ride?”
“Air Ride, cause we’re going to be using our feet.” Mica grinned, removing the blanket, and quickly ripping off her socks. “Now let’s get set up!”
“Can we at least play a round of City Trial after?”
One GameCube set up later.
“I want the wireless one!” Layla said, holding the wavebird out of reach from Mica, who refused to move from the couch. “You won last time so it’s only fair!”
“Distance won’t help you win anyway babe.” Her partner teased as they started the game. “You know how good I am with my feet.”
“Don’t mention foot jobs, I’m getting into my Gamer Zone.” Layla deadpanned as she locked eyes with her part of the screen and selected her vehicle. “Pro Gamer time, the pro-est of pros”
“Pro at being my vibrator for a week maybe.” Mica laughed, not remotely worried about losing to her girlfriend. “You’re gonna be wishing I chose something easier in a hot minute babe.”
“It’s Kirby! How hard could it be!”
One run through each course later.
“I lost.” Layla said, looking at how she hadn’t finished any course past 3rd place. In other words, last place. A complete blow out as she was naturally running into walls with her feet at the controls. “Nooooooo! I was in gamer mode!”
“No johns, even if I won because I took my top off.”
“Boobies are good though; I can’t look away!”
“And weren’t you in gamer mode?” Mica smirked, letting her girlfriend admire her chest despite the loss. “Can you really blame me for winning?”
“Can we do a city trial round first at least?” Layla chuckled nervously, knowing she wouldn’t be able to convince her partner regardless of whatever outcome came from that.
“Nope!” the winner laughed, carefully readjusting her top. “No runbacks until next week!”
“Can I at least pick the game?”
“Loser chooses after all!” Mica grinned, standing up and walking to the kitchen. “And now I’ll go make my prize.”
“Can I get a hint at least?”
“Not a chance! It’s no fun until you see the video tomorrow!” Mica laughed as the light turned on in the kitchen. “You know the deal babe.”
“I know, I know…” Layla sighed, turning red as she pulled open a drawer to grab a phone stand. “At least can I get more head pats this time?”
“The potion only works for eight hours; I gave you seven and a half hours of head pats last time!”
“But I LIKE head pats!”
“I am not patting you for more than seven hours forty-five minutes!” There was a pause as Mica looked out of the kitchen, her girlfriend sitting on the arm of the couch with a pouty face. "Puppy eyes won't work on me either babe."
"Damn."
"Nice try though," the winning witch laughed. "Gonna go with something sweet for a flavor~"
"Grumble, grumble," layla said, getting a confused look from her girlfriend.
"Did… did you just, say, grumble out loud because I didn't fall for your cuteness plan?"
"And if I did?"
"Then i'm adding habanero peppers to the potion."
"I DIDN'T I DIDN'T!"
"Good girl, now let me brew."
One hot brewing session later.
“Okay, potion’s on!” Mica said, walking out to the living room again with a cup of pink bubbling liquid. Layla however was nowhere to be seen, or so she’d like to think. “Really babe? I can see your butt poking out behind the couch.”
“No you can’t!” Layla said, shuffling a bit to be completely concealed. “You didn’t win!”
“I won, now you can be a brat once you drink it like we agreed!” the victorious witch laughed as she started chasing her girlfriend around the couch. “You lost fair and square!”
“That doesn't mean I'm gonna make it easy for you!”
“Babe, was playing horny cat and mouse your idea for this week?”
“N-NO!”
“Babe.”
Layla was now standing up with the potion right under her chin. Mica looked at her with a raised eyebrow and confident smile.
“Yes?”
“Just drink the potion, please?”
Wordlessly other than some quiet grumbling, Layla grabbed it, slowly, dramatically, and most importantly, with a playful grin. Downed it. There was a pause as she handed the bottle back.
“So… how long does this one take to work?” she asked, getting only a sly grin from Mca as the bottle was set down on the table. “A few minutes or… oh…” her words trailed off as her eyes glazed over.
“Not instant, but fast enough my dear,” Mica chuckled as she gently took her girlfriend's hand. Carefully made sure she was supported as the potion took effect, slipped an arm around her waist and carefully walked her away from the living room. “There’s a good girl…” she whispered, carefully moving as she watched Layla’s mouth change from a relaxed slack position into a dopey grin.
“Good… girl…” she mumbled, still grinning as her eyes glazed over even more. Every step was now being taken extremely carefully as Mica led her into a back room, right to where a bed was waiting.
“...Really babe?” she sighed, a banner that said ‘Layla wins!’ with party hats and confetti on the bed was what greeted her when the light turned on. “You were that sure?” Her girlfriend slowly nodded, still being put under due to the potion.
“Yes…” she mumbled, Mica forcing her laughter down as she carefully walked towards the bed. “...very… sure…”
“God, you’re cute.” Mica snickered, carefully letting her girlfriend lean back. Not to sleep, but instead wait for her. After all, an obedience potion was only part of the fun.
“Now then…” the witch in control mumbled, as she looked through her bag for what she had planned. “What to do, what to do, what to do with you?” Potions were Mica’s specialty, granted for witches that was almost to be expected. Where Layla was better was with charm magic, so the two made sure there were plenty of components for spells around their abodes.
Mica looked around, not quite sure if she wanted to go as literal as cat and mouse for the night. She may not have said it but she was definitely in more of a mood for some snuggling than outright sex. There’d still be some, why not take advantage of her partner's consent after all? But she wanted to be more intimate.
“Archibald!” she said, remembering the little noodly friend that Layla kept. A ball python in an enclosure perfect for it to slither around in. And thankfully for Mica, still had a small bit of his shedding on the end of his body. She looked at the snake, the snake looked at her, mouth seemingly forced into a goofy smile as it was starting to eat. He wiggled in response to his name.
Mica slid the top of the terrarium open, noting Archibalds cowboy hat sitting on the cold side of the terrarium. She sighed, attempted to put it on the snake, and grabbed a few bits of shedding for her witchy ways.
“You need more hats.”
Archibald wiggled happily on the heated part of the tank in agreement.
“Snake safe hats, we’ll make some for you next week little guy.” she said, the snake now continuing to swallow his dinner as his mind wandered to what hat he would get. Perhaps a wizard hat, or a pirate hat, not that the snake knew what either of those were.
“And now,” she said, dropping the shedding into a vial. “Snake and mouse night begins~” she shook it, vigorously, and watched as it went from clear, to pink, to a dark violet. “Perfect, and now for the other…”
Mica was lucky that her girlfriend loved keeping animals, and that they all had silly hats. A few mice that were probably getting too many snacks were more than happy to get brushed for some fur scraps.
And yes, Archibald was too small to harm them. And yes, they also all had tiny hats.
That was of course the easy part, now with two magic vials Mica had one challenge. Remembering which one was which. One issue the witch faced was a lack of label makers, with every type of potion unfortunately being the same color it would lead to various issues.
The two witches still laughed about the time they accidentally drank clown potions, confetti was still being picked out of the walls from time to time.
“Oh Layla~” Mica said, looking at her entranced half lucid girlfriend. Still laying on the bed with a dopey grin on her face. “I got a treat for you~”
“Baaabe~” She looked up, just a bit, her movements sluggish as she gave a sleepy, heavily entranced wave. “Hiiiiii!”
“Kept you waiting~” she teased, keeping an eye on the potion for herself. ‘Left hand snake, right hand mouse’ she thought, realizing the mistake of changing things on the fly when identical potions were involved. “How’re you feeling?”
“Gooood!” was the response, her entranced gamer gf now trying to sit up. Mca sighed as she walked over, just looking at her made her heart flutter, especially when she was the equivalent of a remote controlled cuddle ditz.
“Good girl,” Mica said as she carefully sat on the bed, wrapped an arm around Layla, lifted one of the potions to her lips, swapped it for the correct one, and moved her mouth next to the entranced woman's ear. “Drink.”
“Mmmm no”
“How are you bratty even when controlled?”
“Tooooooo smart for you! Now gimme the drink!” Layla babbled, trying to reach for the snake potion.
“Shhh,” the other witch said, putting the mouse potion to her partner's lips. “Just drink this one slowly, carefully, and tell me if anything feels wrong. Okay?”
She nodded as the concoction slowly passed her lips, Mica taking careful movements to make sure not a drop was missed, and that she drank it with no risk. There was a pause before she downed her own potion, knowing the transformation would take a moment.
No witches, warlocks or wizards knew why transformations always started in the feet, but they did. So for Layla, despite the potion dulling her awareness, started to giggle. Her feet grew soft white fur that started poking out from her toes, her face elongating into a cute little nose and whiskers. Her ears disappeared and popped out of the top of her head, much larger than before as they took on an adorable mousey appearance.
For Mica, she was more than happy to ditch her legs. The darn things were just a pain to buy pants to put on them anyway. It started at her toes, elongating and fusing into a single point as her joints popped, bones melting and fusing with muscle. After all, most of a snake was just muscle, despite what halloween decorations would lead people to believe. Her jaw popped, widening just enough to allow her jaw to unhinge, should she need to for whatever reason. Little fangs poked their way out and sat on her lower lip comfortably as scales formed along her body.
“Ahh…” she sighed, feeling a few knots in her back remove themselves as it continued. With her entranced mouse morph sitting giggling as she played with her longer fingers and tail in a daze. Her body elongated as she slowly slid out of her clothing, the tail grew as she stretched, settling around at least four times the length of her body. “Much, much better to be like this.”
“Tail go wiggle!” Layla babbled, her face now sporting an adorable set of large front teeth.
‘And yep, her mind is putty in my coils’ Mica grinned, letting a forked tongue escape her lips as the changes finished for them both. She reached out, her hands gently cupping the soft fur of her girlfriends mousey face. There was a squeak as the obedience potion retriggered, locking her gaze on Mica’s face.
“Now my little mouse~” she teased, letting her body start to wrap around the morphed witch. The fur felt amazing, meaning he mice had been taken care of expertly if this was the effect of the potion. “Shall I give you a hug?”
Layla squeaked, her whiskers twitching in excitement as the reptilian coils started binding her feet. She didn’t really have the option or ability to say no, due to the potion and all, and only wiggled in response as her lamia-fied girlfriend kept on coling.
“...I could totally skip the sexy stuff and just hold you like this because you’re so damn soft and cute!” Mica whispered, letting her tongue brush Layla’s neck. “Would you like that, my good mousey girl?” she nodded, despite her senses being dulled she was turning completely red, even through the fur, and gave a slow nod.
“Y-yessss! Layla wants hugs!” she squeaked as Mica gave her a quick kiss on the nose. Her coils wrapping them up and tangling the mouse's tail with the tip of hers. She moved slowly, letting her body act like a tight blanket with every inch of restriction she added to Layla.
“Let me know if I’m being too tight,” she whispered, using her longer body to grab the blanket from the bed and added it to the pair. “I want you snug, not struggling.”
“Mmm, cozy...” Layla mumbled, her eyes drooping as Mica finished constricting her. A pillow moved just behind her head as ica gave her another kiss.
“Good,” the lamia giggled, giving her girlfriend a flurry of kisses as she settled in. her tongue flicking out as she felt the warmth of her girlfriend settle in. “...Absolute control and I settle for soft cuddling as animals we love. Wow, I'm the biggest dork.”
When everything reverted the next morning she was met with a very disappointed Layla, who was expecting to not walk straight for a month. But there was always their next date night to make that fantasy come true.
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Chapter by
MagicLottie · 03 Apr 2023 -
Goku makes a wish to give Chi-Chi a happy anniversary.
Things escalate from there! -
-
Dirt was flying behind Son Goku as his tractor pulled a rusted, worn, but trustworthy till through the farm he worked for. While training and more importantly, fighting, was what he loved, he couldn’t deny that making sure his family had money was just as important.
Also, food, he couldn’t get by with his and his son Goten’s appetite on just foraging anymore. So, food was important. But even still, there were some nights where Chi-Chi didn’t come to bed and was instead asleep trying to manage their slowly dwindling savings.
So, as Goku uprooted a dead stump, blasted it to ashes and kept moving he had two major thoughts.
‘How can I help?’ and ‘what should I get for her birthday?’ these weren’t things he could just fight, he had to do what he was worst at. Plan. The fact that his wife was doing all the thinking bugged him, like he was dead weight in a tournament.
“I don’t want you using the dragon balls to wish us better, Goku” Chi-Chi had said to him, not angry but frustrated with her husband at wanting to take the obvious solution out. “And I don’t want to borrow more money. It adds up after a while.”
Thus, he was now working as a farmhand for at least three different farmers. All in secret, since he saw Chi-Chi’s face light up when she checked their bank account and figured he wouldn’t tell her until their anniversary.
At least, he would if she hadn’t figured it out a week ago. Promising him the best anniversary night as thanks. But now his gift was ruined, and he was too busy to try and get one of the fancy dresses she showed him. Bulma, at Goku’s request, had given him an out. He didn’t have time to try and figure out where he could buy the dress, but he could use the dragon balls and Shenron to get everything all nice and tidy.
He absolutely owed Bulma some favors after this. Though that usually involved helping her skirt the line with Beerus and Whis to make more gadgets. The Saiyan just had to finish this one shift then he’d spend an hour warping around to get his plan in motion.
And for once, getting the Dragon Balls was simple. No armies, no tyrants, the most he had to do was help lift a barn to get it as payment. So, after a few hours he had all seven, ready to go and a picture of the dress.
The sky darkened, lightning flashed, and thunder clapped as the legendary dragon rose from the seven dragon balls. A seemingly endless dragon emerged in a flash of light, its long coiling body moving like a river. Shenron, one of the more powerful beings Goku knew from his childhood, even if now the wish granting dragon was completely outstripped in terms of power.
“I am Shenron,” it bellowed. “I shall grant you any wish, now speak!”
“Hey, Shenron!” Goku said, taking out the magazine he had snuck out and flipping to the dress Chi-Chi wanted.
“Oh, it’s you. Who died this time?”
“What? No one!”
“Then, who’s threatening earth?”
“No one!”
“I… see.” The dragon sighed, knowing this wish was going to be a silly one.
“So, long story short, I need to make sure I get this dress for Chi-Chi!” Goku beamed, holding the magazine up. He knew the dragon could have a bit of a short temper when small talk was involved. “So, I wish that I had this dress, and it would fit her perfectly all the time!”
“That’s it?”
“Uh huh! Oh wait, maybe make it so that tonight’s the best night for her too!”
“That’s technically two wishes, but this is so easy why not.” The dragon huffed, readying to grant the wish. “But are you sure you don’t want to be more spe-“
“Thanks, Shenron!” Goku blurted out, no longer paying attention to the dragon. “Oh man, she’s gonna love this!”
‘Yeah, she is,’ Shenron thought, casting the spell. Enveloping the Saiyan in a flash of light, leaving him with the dress in hand instead of the magazine.
“Your wish is granted!” he said, disappearing back into the magic dragon balls which subsequently scattered across the world. Goku was left alone, a brilliant crimson cocktail dress, sparkling ruby heels and even the same jewellery as the model in the magazine were now in hand.
“Yes!” he cheered, not really questioning why his hair had suddenly started falling in front of his face, or why his voice sounded just slightly higher pitched. There was a moment of joy, then realizing he had to hurry home.
“Did I tear my coat?” Goku muttered as he flew home, not sure why his farm clothes were suddenly much draftier and felt a little ill fitting. “Oh well! Doesn’t matter!” he grinned, flying back towards his home. The wind cutting through his hair, the dress safely held with all the extra bits that Shenron added for it.
‘Next time I really should just get Shenron a gift!’ the Saiyan thought, arriving at his home. Chi-Chi was still out, making sure he made it to Bulma’s. ‘But first I should make sure I’m all cleaned up!’
Meanwhile, at Capsule Corp.
“What do you mean he borrowed the Dragon Radar?” Chi-Chi sighed, knowing the hours long drive back would get her just in time to meet her spouse. “I told him not to wish for anything!”
“He said it was an emergency,” Bulma said, laughing a bit at her childhood friend’s predicament. “It can only mean one thing.”
“He forgot when stores were open. Again.” Chi-Chi sighed. Taking a few snack bars the Briefs compound had, since they all knew how long the drive was.
“Really? I would’ve figured he forgot.”
“No, he actually was trying to keep a secret but forgot I manage the money.”
“Oh, so is he in the monkey house?”
“No, he actually got a few extra jobs so I could treat myself. But I found out early...”
“So, he used the Dragon Balls?” Bulma chuckled, her friend blushing up a storm. “At least he had a backup plan.”
“True, but I should get going. Thanks for watching Goten!”
The car ride back was quiet, aside from Chi-Chi’s humming and the radio. Normally a drive like this would’ve left her in a bad mood but knowing that her husband had tried his best for their anniversary. Her thoughts drifted back to their wedding day, specifically how they had saved her father and her mothers wedding dress.
So, she just sat back, relaxed, and looked forward to the evening, even if she could be expected to cook.
Back with Son Goku!
“Okay, so the roast looks like this?” he said, not changed out of his clothes. His Ki sensing was thankfully letting him know he had about an hour to try and surprise Chi-Chi with one more thing. A beef roast, nothing too fancy but simple enough Goku, with multiple fully illustrated pages of instructions from Gohan, was able to get it in the oven.
“Once in oven then set timer by gently turning it to sixty…” Goku read, looking at the pictures and getting everything ready. “When the timer goes, take it out and let rest?” he shrugged, looking at the oven and feeling confident that he had turned it on correctly, went to the washroom.
“Aw man, my pecs are sagging?” Goku said, looking at his naked body in the bathroom mirror. “I didn’t think I was slacking that much on my training. Despite having had sex with Chi-Chi before, the Saiyan apparently couldn’t recognize breasts.
This was normal for Goku.
“And my penis is gone?” he said, more confused than concerned. “Maybe I should ask Corrin about any senzu bean side effects.” Regardless, the impulsive Saiyan that he is, he decided to stick a finger down there. “Oh!” he said with a bit of surprise. “it’s like Chi-Chi’s now! Hopefully, she won’t mind.” Ignoring the slight stimulation that he felt, the Saiyan continued looking at his body.
“Did I get thinner?” his waist certainly was significantly smaller, by at least a couple of inches. “Well, I was trying to help save money, so that’d answer that.” He turned around as best he could to look at his rear end. “Tail hole and butt look normal! But when did my hair get so long?”
He shrugged and got into the bath, while it wasn’t the open-air bath he liked, Chi-Chi had asked him to use the one inside if it was an important occasion. She even made a box that said ‘date night soap’ with little cartoon faces of the couple on it.
Now, with anyone this oblivious, certainly rubbing cherry scented soap on one’s new breasts would clue them in. But with both of his hands cupping his own breasts, Son Goku continued to exceed expectations in the strangest way.
“Maybe I should till by hand if my muscles are this squishy?” He mumbled, letting water splash around as he repeatedly lifted his breasts up. Each bounce making his chest tingle in a way he couldn’t understand. His nipples were perking up, mostly from the evening breeze coming through the window as the Saiyan decided to put everything out of his mind, finish washing and get dressed.
“I thought this suit fit yesterday?” Goku grumbled, knowing Chi-Chi was about twenty minutes away now. The buttons were resisting every attempt to get the last few buttons done up, instead leaving a large amount of cleavage visible. His hair was brushed back, some gel to keep it out of his face, he was determined to be classy for once.
So naturally he was a little worried when he was struggling to figure out plating for the dinner. Mostly because he was fighting his urge to eat the food, but soon the sun started to set, the headlights from Chi-Chi’s car pulled up. Goku was ready, he even had napkins ready.
Chi-Chi was relaxed from the drive, and from the scent of freshly cooked dinner greeting her she knew that this was going to be a good evening. She stepped out, stretched, and saw the black hair of her husband peeking through the window, he was terrible at hiding himself from her when he went without his powers. With a few steps, she reached the door, pushed it open, and her jaw dropped.
Mostly at her husband standing there still fiddling with buttons and sporting a ridiculously hard to miss amount of cleavage. But her eyes were drawn primarily to the actual human portion of food waiting for her on the table. No huge mess, nothing for her to clean up, aside from the breasts on her husband everything was perfect.
“Goku… dear. Why do you have breasts?” She asked, trying to focus on the evening not being ruined rather than shocked. “Is… that why you needed the Dragon Radar?”
“Breasts? No, my pecs are just squishy for some reason!” Goku said, not realizing that his voice was significantly different. “All I did was wish for that dress you wanted and the best anniversary for you.”
“You… wished for me?” she said, admittedly now ignoring the obvious added weight. Her hands covering her mouth at how much her husband wanted to make her happy. “That’s so sweet! I mean you having breasts is strange but it’s so sweet you did that!” She didn’t hesitate after speaking to give Goku a kiss. Finding it only a little harder as their chests pressed together, making them both blush.
“Yeah!” Goku said, giggling as he tried to keep the good time going and pulled a chair out for Chi-Chi to sit on. “I just wish my body didn’t feel weird.”
“Goku, you have a feminine body.”
“I do?”
“Goku, dear. I know you don’t care about appearances but. Please tell me you noticed when you had a bath?” Chi-Chi laughed, smelling the soap from their important night box.
“I mean… those bits were gone, and my butt looks squishier. Also, I think I’m thinner?”
“Goku. Please tell me, exactly, what you wished for?”
“Well, I wished for that dress you wanted and that it’d fit no matter what, and that you’d have the best night!” he answered innocently. There was a pause as Chi-Chi put her head in her hands, took a breath, and started laughing.
“Goku. Sweetie. You have a body like mine.”
“But I’m a guy?”
“Some guys have bodies like that.”
“Am I what Gohan said was a malewife now then?”
“Do you want to be?”
“Would it make you happy?”
“What about you Goku?” Chi-Chi asked, stopping her laughter. “You may be called a woman if you don’t wish your body back next year.”
“Is that a gender thing?” the Saiyan asked innocently, sitting down and still fiddling with his buttons. “Does gender even matter?”
“Well, some people say ignoring it makes you stronger.” Chi-Chi grinned. “And someone can actually wear those other dresses you got me.”
“that’s why I wished for one that would fit you perfectly!” Goku beamed, knowing he was not strong enough to understand clothing sizes yet.
“Instead of the one with the biggest size number?”
“But that should mean it’s the best!” the Saiyan protested, his wife laughing again. “And you deserve the best!”
“Thank you, dear,” Chi-Chi said with a warm smile. There was a moment of silence as Goku started to cut the roast. Both smiling at each other, and then as the food started to be dished out there was an epiphany.
“Chi-Chi?” Goku said, looking down at his breasts. “Does this mean you’d like me even if I did stay like this?”
“Was that ever a question?”
“No, not really.” The Saiyan said, doing his best to eat without making a mess. And thankfully, he wouldn’t have to do an emergency takeout run. The sign of a delicious meal was the absence of talking and abundance of happy humming, and neither of them said a word while they ate.
They moved to the couch and started cuddling, with Chi-Chi admittedly curious about one thing. And her hand carefully went to the barely restrained buttoned shirt on Goku.
“Can I see if you still have your abs?” She asked innocently. With Goku looking confused as to why she’d ask.
“I mean I’m probably going to wear a shirt about as much as usual?” he responded, Chi-Chi’s face turning completely red as he let her unbutton the top.
In their years they’d both seen large orbs, and to say Chi-Chi was more than a little jealous would be an understatement as two breasts the size of the Namekian Dragon Balls sent a button flying into the trash bin. The human took a breath, put her hands under them, and lifted them up just enough to see Goku’s meat grinder of a six pack still there.
“Good, still there.” she said, letting her hands squish the Saiyan’s breasts just a little, getting him to let out a surprised squeak. “Sorry!”
“No! it’s fine! I just…” Goku mumbled as he poked his fingers against one another. “How are we supposed to do anything in bed like we did last year?”
“Oh.” Chi-Chi said, letting her hands stay on the Saiyan’s chest. “I guess I’ll have to teach you something.”
“Like training?”
‘Oh, heaven’s yes.’ She thought to herself.
“You can say that dear,” The human grinned, Goku, thankfully, oblivious to that not so hidden intent as she squeezed his chest. “But maybe we should go up to our room?”
“Sure!” Goku said, not sure why he liked having his breasts squished. And hi-Chi did not stop as they walked upstairs. His clothes were slowly discarded, leaving him almost naked as the bedroom door was opened. The dress intended for Chi-Chi was laid out, but with how much she was working her hands on Goku’s body, the Saiyan wasn’t sure who’d be wearing it.
“Okay, honey,” Chi-Chi said with a sing song voice. “I’m going to get you all dressed up.”
“Me? But the dress is for you?” he said, being led to the bedside and pushed to sit down.
“But you said it’d fit me no matter what,” his wife grinned, “meaning it will probably fit anyone perfectly too.”
“Huh…” Goku said, realizing how that would make sense as his pants were taken off. “But I got it for you?”
“Think of it as training then,” his wife grinned, carefully picking it up and letting them both get a good look at it. Goku’s demeanor changed instantly as he let her do her work. “Now… let’s get this unzipped.”
The dress, now that Chi-Chi could examine it, wasn’t quite how the magazine showed it off. It was more conservative than the magazine had made it out to be, a heavier, softer fabric was used. Maybe Shenron had his own tastes when he made clothing, or it being enchanted changed it to be more multipurpose.
Regardless, it was gorgeous, a deep crimson dress with a zipper down the back, a leg strap that would imply just a bit more adult playfulness, and a generous V neck to allow some showing off. The earrings had a matching red gem in them and were clip on, meaning if she wanted Goku to wear them she wouldn’t have to pierce his ears.
“So, what will this training do? Goku asked excitedly, practically bouncing on the bed.
“First,” Chi-Chi said, using all her improvisation skills to make this work. “it’s going to get you used to your body again.” She held the dress up and sized it up to her husband “but first. I need you to let me put this on you.”
Goku obliged, with his wife carefully moving the dress up his legs. There was a moment of hesitation as it reached his thighs, but the magic did exactly what Chi-Chi wanted it too. Instead of straining, it started hugging Goku’s new curves. Every bit of the dress wrapping Goku up, the sleeves effortlessly going around his muscles, and before either of them knew it, the dress was done up perfectly.
“Well, how does it feel, Goku?” she asked, looking at the now much more feminine looking Saiyan. His waist was being pushed in, his chest was being pushed out, and with a bit of makeup he’d look fantastic.
“Weird!” He laughed, moving his arms and legs, thankfully the dress was showing no signs of resistance at it. “But it’s nice! Like my weighted clothes!”
Chi-Chi just started laughing as she gave her husband a kiss. Her hands carefully working their way lower under the dress as Goku let out a surprised moan. She was in charge, that much was made abundantly clear as the end of the dress was pulled up and one of the human’s hands reached down.
“Just tell me when you’ve had enough training, Goku,” she teased. Watching her world saving husband squirm and moan as one hand found its mark, and her other hand was pushing him down to fondle one of his breasts. Goku nodded, still squirming from the new sensations of having fingers reach down there. He gave a small nod as a moan passed his lips, with Chi-Chi taking advantage of it to kiss him.
Goku had been through a lot of training, even if deep down part of him knew this wasn’t the same thing, but this was draining his stamina faster than any fight he’d had. Whatever changes his body had gone through, it was making everything sensitive to the touch as Chi-Chi practically played him like a piano. He took a few deep breaths, Chi-Chi slowed down just enough to make sure he could speak if he wanted to stop.
“It feels weird?” he said, panting as Chi-Chi slowed down even more.
“Do you want me to stop, Goku?” She asked, looking down at him with a soft love filled smile. He had the endurance, but when you only train for a marathon a sprint can be exhausting was how she figured it.
“If it’s okay,” the Saiyan said, looking a little annoyed with himself. “But it did feel good though! Can we try again the next time Goten is at the Briefs?”
“Of course, dear,” Chi-Chi smiled, letting him sit up before pulling him into a kiss and started to shuffle further onto the bed for cuddle time. Soft kisses, a few errant pictures that had Goku blushing up a storm before an idea cross both of their minds.
“Chi-Chi.”
“Goku.”
“Are we having the same idea on how to use my body?” The Saiyan asked, his wife nodding enthusiastically.
“You want to mess with Vegeta, don’t you?”
“And you want to show you aren’t a pushover to that one lady in Goten’s PTA?”
There was a pause, both looked at each other, the power pole on the other side of the room and some rope. Before scrambling to both get completely naked and start setting up something that would have ramifications that no one expected.
The Brief’s compound: 12:40 am
Bulma’s phone buzzed, normally she’d be asleep but her and Vegeta had decided to take a night to do what they did best. Snark at each other with some wine. She picked it up, dropped the phone on the couch, Vegeta subsequently picked it up and dropped it as well.
“Why does Goku have bigger breasts than me?”
“WHY DOES KAKAROT LOOK LIKE THAT?”
Goten and Trunks did not hear the confusion and frantic scrambling to get information, as what Chi-Chi had sent was a picture of her husband’s mouth between her legs, one of him tied up, and another of her kissing one of his massive breasts.
“Vegeta,”
“Bulma.”
“We can do that better than them.”1 / 1Loading...Loading...- Dirt was flying behind Son Goku as his tractor pulled a rusted, worn, but trustworthy till through the farm he worked for. While training and more importantly, fighting, was what he loved, he couldn’t deny that making sure his family had money was just as important.
Also, food, he couldn’t get by with his and his son Goten’s appetite on just foraging anymore. So, food was important. But even still, there were some nights where Chi-Chi didn’t come to bed and was instead asleep trying to manage their slowly dwindling savings.
So, as Goku uprooted a dead stump, blasted it to ashes and kept moving he had two major thoughts.
‘How can I help?’ and ‘what should I get for her birthday?’ these weren’t things he could just fight, he had to do what he was worst at. Plan. The fact that his wife was doing all the thinking bugged him, like he was dead weight in a tournament.
“I don’t want you using the dragon balls to wish us better, Goku” Chi-Chi had said to him, not angry but frustrated with her husband at wanting to take the obvious solution out. “And I don’t want to borrow more money. It adds up after a while.”
Thus, he was now working as a farmhand for at least three different farmers. All in secret, since he saw Chi-Chi’s face light up when she checked their bank account and figured he wouldn’t tell her until their anniversary.
At least, he would if she hadn’t figured it out a week ago. Promising him the best anniversary night as thanks. But now his gift was ruined, and he was too busy to try and get one of the fancy dresses she showed him. Bulma, at Goku’s request, had given him an out. He didn’t have time to try and figure out where he could buy the dress, but he could use the dragon balls and Shenron to get everything all nice and tidy.
He absolutely owed Bulma some favors after this. Though that usually involved helping her skirt the line with Beerus and Whis to make more gadgets. The Saiyan just had to finish this one shift then he’d spend an hour warping around to get his plan in motion.
And for once, getting the Dragon Balls was simple. No armies, no tyrants, the most he had to do was help lift a barn to get it as payment. So, after a few hours he had all seven, ready to go and a picture of the dress.
The sky darkened, lightning flashed, and thunder clapped as the legendary dragon rose from the seven dragon balls. A seemingly endless dragon emerged in a flash of light, its long coiling body moving like a river. Shenron, one of the more powerful beings Goku knew from his childhood, even if now the wish granting dragon was completely outstripped in terms of power.
“I am Shenron,” it bellowed. “I shall grant you any wish, now speak!”
“Hey, Shenron!” Goku said, taking out the magazine he had snuck out and flipping to the dress Chi-Chi wanted.
“Oh, it’s you. Who died this time?”
“What? No one!”
“Then, who’s threatening earth?”
“No one!”
“I… see.” The dragon sighed, knowing this wish was going to be a silly one.
“So, long story short, I need to make sure I get this dress for Chi-Chi!” Goku beamed, holding the magazine up. He knew the dragon could have a bit of a short temper when small talk was involved. “So, I wish that I had this dress, and it would fit her perfectly all the time!”
“That’s it?”
“Uh huh! Oh wait, maybe make it so that tonight’s the best night for her too!”
“That’s technically two wishes, but this is so easy why not.” The dragon huffed, readying to grant the wish. “But are you sure you don’t want to be more spe-“
“Thanks, Shenron!” Goku blurted out, no longer paying attention to the dragon. “Oh man, she’s gonna love this!”
‘Yeah, she is,’ Shenron thought, casting the spell. Enveloping the Saiyan in a flash of light, leaving him with the dress in hand instead of the magazine.
“Your wish is granted!” he said, disappearing back into the magic dragon balls which subsequently scattered across the world. Goku was left alone, a brilliant crimson cocktail dress, sparkling ruby heels and even the same jewellery as the model in the magazine were now in hand.
“Yes!” he cheered, not really questioning why his hair had suddenly started falling in front of his face, or why his voice sounded just slightly higher pitched. There was a moment of joy, then realizing he had to hurry home.
“Did I tear my coat?” Goku muttered as he flew home, not sure why his farm clothes were suddenly much draftier and felt a little ill fitting. “Oh well! Doesn’t matter!” he grinned, flying back towards his home. The wind cutting through his hair, the dress safely held with all the extra bits that Shenron added for it.
‘Next time I really should just get Shenron a gift!’ the Saiyan thought, arriving at his home. Chi-Chi was still out, making sure he made it to Bulma’s. ‘But first I should make sure I’m all cleaned up!’
Meanwhile, at Capsule Corp.
“What do you mean he borrowed the Dragon Radar?” Chi-Chi sighed, knowing the hours long drive back would get her just in time to meet her spouse. “I told him not to wish for anything!”
“He said it was an emergency,” Bulma said, laughing a bit at her childhood friend’s predicament. “It can only mean one thing.”
“He forgot when stores were open. Again.” Chi-Chi sighed. Taking a few snack bars the Briefs compound had, since they all knew how long the drive was.
“Really? I would’ve figured he forgot.”
“No, he actually was trying to keep a secret but forgot I manage the money.”
“Oh, so is he in the monkey house?”
“No, he actually got a few extra jobs so I could treat myself. But I found out early...”
“So, he used the Dragon Balls?” Bulma chuckled, her friend blushing up a storm. “At least he had a backup plan.”
“True, but I should get going. Thanks for watching Goten!”
The car ride back was quiet, aside from Chi-Chi’s humming and the radio. Normally a drive like this would’ve left her in a bad mood but knowing that her husband had tried his best for their anniversary. Her thoughts drifted back to their wedding day, specifically how they had saved her father and her mothers wedding dress.
So, she just sat back, relaxed, and looked forward to the evening, even if she could be expected to cook.
Back with Son Goku!
“Okay, so the roast looks like this?” he said, not changed out of his clothes. His Ki sensing was thankfully letting him know he had about an hour to try and surprise Chi-Chi with one more thing. A beef roast, nothing too fancy but simple enough Goku, with multiple fully illustrated pages of instructions from Gohan, was able to get it in the oven.
“Once in oven then set timer by gently turning it to sixty…” Goku read, looking at the pictures and getting everything ready. “When the timer goes, take it out and let rest?” he shrugged, looking at the oven and feeling confident that he had turned it on correctly, went to the washroom.
“Aw man, my pecs are sagging?” Goku said, looking at his naked body in the bathroom mirror. “I didn’t think I was slacking that much on my training. Despite having had sex with Chi-Chi before, the Saiyan apparently couldn’t recognize breasts.
This was normal for Goku.
“And my penis is gone?” he said, more confused than concerned. “Maybe I should ask Corrin about any senzu bean side effects.” Regardless, the impulsive Saiyan that he is, he decided to stick a finger down there. “Oh!” he said with a bit of surprise. “it’s like Chi-Chi’s now! Hopefully, she won’t mind.” Ignoring the slight stimulation that he felt, the Saiyan continued looking at his body.
“Did I get thinner?” his waist certainly was significantly smaller, by at least a couple of inches. “Well, I was trying to help save money, so that’d answer that.” He turned around as best he could to look at his rear end. “Tail hole and butt look normal! But when did my hair get so long?”
He shrugged and got into the bath, while it wasn’t the open-air bath he liked, Chi-Chi had asked him to use the one inside if it was an important occasion. She even made a box that said ‘date night soap’ with little cartoon faces of the couple on it.
Now, with anyone this oblivious, certainly rubbing cherry scented soap on one’s new breasts would clue them in. But with both of his hands cupping his own breasts, Son Goku continued to exceed expectations in the strangest way.
“Maybe I should till by hand if my muscles are this squishy?” He mumbled, letting water splash around as he repeatedly lifted his breasts up. Each bounce making his chest tingle in a way he couldn’t understand. His nipples were perking up, mostly from the evening breeze coming through the window as the Saiyan decided to put everything out of his mind, finish washing and get dressed.
“I thought this suit fit yesterday?” Goku grumbled, knowing Chi-Chi was about twenty minutes away now. The buttons were resisting every attempt to get the last few buttons done up, instead leaving a large amount of cleavage visible. His hair was brushed back, some gel to keep it out of his face, he was determined to be classy for once.
So naturally he was a little worried when he was struggling to figure out plating for the dinner. Mostly because he was fighting his urge to eat the food, but soon the sun started to set, the headlights from Chi-Chi’s car pulled up. Goku was ready, he even had napkins ready.
Chi-Chi was relaxed from the drive, and from the scent of freshly cooked dinner greeting her she knew that this was going to be a good evening. She stepped out, stretched, and saw the black hair of her husband peeking through the window, he was terrible at hiding himself from her when he went without his powers. With a few steps, she reached the door, pushed it open, and her jaw dropped.
Mostly at her husband standing there still fiddling with buttons and sporting a ridiculously hard to miss amount of cleavage. But her eyes were drawn primarily to the actual human portion of food waiting for her on the table. No huge mess, nothing for her to clean up, aside from the breasts on her husband everything was perfect.
“Goku… dear. Why do you have breasts?” She asked, trying to focus on the evening not being ruined rather than shocked. “Is… that why you needed the Dragon Radar?”
“Breasts? No, my pecs are just squishy for some reason!” Goku said, not realizing that his voice was significantly different. “All I did was wish for that dress you wanted and the best anniversary for you.”
“You… wished for me?” she said, admittedly now ignoring the obvious added weight. Her hands covering her mouth at how much her husband wanted to make her happy. “That’s so sweet! I mean you having breasts is strange but it’s so sweet you did that!” She didn’t hesitate after speaking to give Goku a kiss. Finding it only a little harder as their chests pressed together, making them both blush.
“Yeah!” Goku said, giggling as he tried to keep the good time going and pulled a chair out for Chi-Chi to sit on. “I just wish my body didn’t feel weird.”
“Goku, you have a feminine body.”
“I do?”
“Goku, dear. I know you don’t care about appearances but. Please tell me you noticed when you had a bath?” Chi-Chi laughed, smelling the soap from their important night box.
“I mean… those bits were gone, and my butt looks squishier. Also, I think I’m thinner?”
“Goku. Please tell me, exactly, what you wished for?”
“Well, I wished for that dress you wanted and that it’d fit no matter what, and that you’d have the best night!” he answered innocently. There was a pause as Chi-Chi put her head in her hands, took a breath, and started laughing.
“Goku. Sweetie. You have a body like mine.”
“But I’m a guy?”
“Some guys have bodies like that.”
“Am I what Gohan said was a malewife now then?”
“Do you want to be?”
“Would it make you happy?”
“What about you Goku?” Chi-Chi asked, stopping her laughter. “You may be called a woman if you don’t wish your body back next year.”
“Is that a gender thing?” the Saiyan asked innocently, sitting down and still fiddling with his buttons. “Does gender even matter?”
“Well, some people say ignoring it makes you stronger.” Chi-Chi grinned. “And someone can actually wear those other dresses you got me.”
“that’s why I wished for one that would fit you perfectly!” Goku beamed, knowing he was not strong enough to understand clothing sizes yet.
“Instead of the one with the biggest size number?”
“But that should mean it’s the best!” the Saiyan protested, his wife laughing again. “And you deserve the best!”
“Thank you, dear,” Chi-Chi said with a warm smile. There was a moment of silence as Goku started to cut the roast. Both smiling at each other, and then as the food started to be dished out there was an epiphany.
“Chi-Chi?” Goku said, looking down at his breasts. “Does this mean you’d like me even if I did stay like this?”
“Was that ever a question?”
“No, not really.” The Saiyan said, doing his best to eat without making a mess. And thankfully, he wouldn’t have to do an emergency takeout run. The sign of a delicious meal was the absence of talking and abundance of happy humming, and neither of them said a word while they ate.
They moved to the couch and started cuddling, with Chi-Chi admittedly curious about one thing. And her hand carefully went to the barely restrained buttoned shirt on Goku.
“Can I see if you still have your abs?” She asked innocently. With Goku looking confused as to why she’d ask.
“I mean I’m probably going to wear a shirt about as much as usual?” he responded, Chi-Chi’s face turning completely red as he let her unbutton the top.
In their years they’d both seen large orbs, and to say Chi-Chi was more than a little jealous would be an understatement as two breasts the size of the Namekian Dragon Balls sent a button flying into the trash bin. The human took a breath, put her hands under them, and lifted them up just enough to see Goku’s meat grinder of a six pack still there.
“Good, still there.” she said, letting her hands squish the Saiyan’s breasts just a little, getting him to let out a surprised squeak. “Sorry!”
“No! it’s fine! I just…” Goku mumbled as he poked his fingers against one another. “How are we supposed to do anything in bed like we did last year?”
“Oh.” Chi-Chi said, letting her hands stay on the Saiyan’s chest. “I guess I’ll have to teach you something.”
“Like training?”
‘Oh, heaven’s yes.’ She thought to herself.
“You can say that dear,” The human grinned, Goku, thankfully, oblivious to that not so hidden intent as she squeezed his chest. “But maybe we should go up to our room?”
“Sure!” Goku said, not sure why he liked having his breasts squished. And hi-Chi did not stop as they walked upstairs. His clothes were slowly discarded, leaving him almost naked as the bedroom door was opened. The dress intended for Chi-Chi was laid out, but with how much she was working her hands on Goku’s body, the Saiyan wasn’t sure who’d be wearing it.
“Okay, honey,” Chi-Chi said with a sing song voice. “I’m going to get you all dressed up.”
“Me? But the dress is for you?” he said, being led to the bedside and pushed to sit down.
“But you said it’d fit me no matter what,” his wife grinned, “meaning it will probably fit anyone perfectly too.”
“Huh…” Goku said, realizing how that would make sense as his pants were taken off. “But I got it for you?”
“Think of it as training then,” his wife grinned, carefully picking it up and letting them both get a good look at it. Goku’s demeanor changed instantly as he let her do her work. “Now… let’s get this unzipped.”
The dress, now that Chi-Chi could examine it, wasn’t quite how the magazine showed it off. It was more conservative than the magazine had made it out to be, a heavier, softer fabric was used. Maybe Shenron had his own tastes when he made clothing, or it being enchanted changed it to be more multipurpose.
Regardless, it was gorgeous, a deep crimson dress with a zipper down the back, a leg strap that would imply just a bit more adult playfulness, and a generous V neck to allow some showing off. The earrings had a matching red gem in them and were clip on, meaning if she wanted Goku to wear them she wouldn’t have to pierce his ears.
“So, what will this training do? Goku asked excitedly, practically bouncing on the bed.
“First,” Chi-Chi said, using all her improvisation skills to make this work. “it’s going to get you used to your body again.” She held the dress up and sized it up to her husband “but first. I need you to let me put this on you.”
Goku obliged, with his wife carefully moving the dress up his legs. There was a moment of hesitation as it reached his thighs, but the magic did exactly what Chi-Chi wanted it too. Instead of straining, it started hugging Goku’s new curves. Every bit of the dress wrapping Goku up, the sleeves effortlessly going around his muscles, and before either of them knew it, the dress was done up perfectly.
“Well, how does it feel, Goku?” she asked, looking at the now much more feminine looking Saiyan. His waist was being pushed in, his chest was being pushed out, and with a bit of makeup he’d look fantastic.
“Weird!” He laughed, moving his arms and legs, thankfully the dress was showing no signs of resistance at it. “But it’s nice! Like my weighted clothes!”
Chi-Chi just started laughing as she gave her husband a kiss. Her hands carefully working their way lower under the dress as Goku let out a surprised moan. She was in charge, that much was made abundantly clear as the end of the dress was pulled up and one of the human’s hands reached down.
“Just tell me when you’ve had enough training, Goku,” she teased. Watching her world saving husband squirm and moan as one hand found its mark, and her other hand was pushing him down to fondle one of his breasts. Goku nodded, still squirming from the new sensations of having fingers reach down there. He gave a small nod as a moan passed his lips, with Chi-Chi taking advantage of it to kiss him.
Goku had been through a lot of training, even if deep down part of him knew this wasn’t the same thing, but this was draining his stamina faster than any fight he’d had. Whatever changes his body had gone through, it was making everything sensitive to the touch as Chi-Chi practically played him like a piano. He took a few deep breaths, Chi-Chi slowed down just enough to make sure he could speak if he wanted to stop.
“It feels weird?” he said, panting as Chi-Chi slowed down even more.
“Do you want me to stop, Goku?” She asked, looking down at him with a soft love filled smile. He had the endurance, but when you only train for a marathon a sprint can be exhausting was how she figured it.
“If it’s okay,” the Saiyan said, looking a little annoyed with himself. “But it did feel good though! Can we try again the next time Goten is at the Briefs?”
“Of course, dear,” Chi-Chi smiled, letting him sit up before pulling him into a kiss and started to shuffle further onto the bed for cuddle time. Soft kisses, a few errant pictures that had Goku blushing up a storm before an idea cross both of their minds.
“Chi-Chi.”
“Goku.”
“Are we having the same idea on how to use my body?” The Saiyan asked, his wife nodding enthusiastically.
“You want to mess with Vegeta, don’t you?”
“And you want to show you aren’t a pushover to that one lady in Goten’s PTA?”
There was a pause, both looked at each other, the power pole on the other side of the room and some rope. Before scrambling to both get completely naked and start setting up something that would have ramifications that no one expected.
The Brief’s compound: 12:40 am
Bulma’s phone buzzed, normally she’d be asleep but her and Vegeta had decided to take a night to do what they did best. Snark at each other with some wine. She picked it up, dropped the phone on the couch, Vegeta subsequently picked it up and dropped it as well.
“Why does Goku have bigger breasts than me?”
“WHY DOES KAKAROT LOOK LIKE THAT?”
Goten and Trunks did not hear the confusion and frantic scrambling to get information, as what Chi-Chi had sent was a picture of her husband’s mouth between her legs, one of him tied up, and another of her kissing one of his massive breasts.
“Vegeta,”
“Bulma.”
“We can do that better than them.”No more chapters.
hey can I be in the story
No you cannot!