by Maxwell Avoi
I went back to studying. I had to admit that since what I was reading had a more practical application to my life, it was more interesting than when it had been just theory. Potions were pretty forgiving; a single fuck-up in using a daisy instead of a pansy wouldn’t cause the imbiber to die. Enough small mistakes would simply cause it to not work, but there was always the chance that I would overlook something major. I looked over Trevor’s order form and nodded again. It would help to have the form; it would give me a physical piece of information to hang some magic on.
Trevor came back and said, “Okay, I’m gonna go see Laura. Can I borrow ten bucks to get her some flowers?”
I sighed and handed him the ten. “Just be sure to get the clothes.”
“Oh I will.” He gave me a grin that said that he planned to get more than just clothes, and then he headed out.
I went back to studying. I stayed with the book until my eyes started to burn, so I took a break to get some coffee. The magic involved seemed pretty easy; I was sure that I would be able to make the potion in the school’s lab. After that I would have to get my own materials if I wanted to make any more. I didn’t want to use the university’s resources for my own projects if I could help it; doing so would probably lead to the kinds of legal problems that would get our little scheme noticed.
I wasn’t as nervous about my skills as I’d let Trevor think. Transformation potions were actually pretty easy, just a level two out of nine for straightforward changes like the ones that we were talking about. Gender change wasn’t a simple thing but when it came to transformation magic it was relatively minor. It wasn’t like Trevor was asking me to do cross-species transformations or anything. Humans were simple enough; the body already knew how to be human, so there wouldn’t be much resistance from the morphic fields.
Trevor was gone for the night, probably spending it with Laura, and when he came back he had a wide grin and a bundle of clothing. “Smart clothes get,” he said. “She didn’t even ask too many questions.”
“How on earth did you explain it to her?”
“I told her that it was for a play. Then whenever she asked questions I distracted her.”
“Aaaand enough said. Okay, I think we have what we need to make this work. Do you have a photographer?”
“Shit. Um…I’ll work on that.”
“Weekend’s coming up, tick tock.”
“Bite me.”
I took the order form and my books to the potions lab, determined to see what it would take to get the whole thing to work. I had adjusted to the fact that we were going to actually do this, so by this time it was more of a mental exercise than anything.
It turned out that it was going to be even easier than I thought. I used club soda as a base, since it was in transition from a liquid to a gas. I knew that wasn’t truly the case, but that’s what it looked like to me, and intent important than scientific truth when it comes to magic. I added a few drops of alcohol to reinforce the idea of transition, since alcohol evaporates quickly.
Then I added a used cocoon, a few drops of ketchup (a liquid-solid caught between worlds) and a drop of rosewater to reinforce the idea of femininity. I concentrated on the order form as the mixture heated up.
The heat added kinetic energy to the formula, which I would bind to the magic to provide it with the power to operate. In my mind the points of support were glowing dots, and the energy from the heat was the web that I spun between them. The points of support were the ingredients, all of them reinforcing the idea of what I wanted the potion to do. The order form let me be even more exact than usual with the process, and by the time I was ready to tie off the strands they glowed in my mind like a spider web of lightning.
Then I tied them off all at once and the potion made a gloop noise. I opened my eyes and found that the various ingredients had disintegrated, adding their magical potential to the mix. The potion was a little fizzy, and it was a deep pink color. I poured it off into a vial and capped it while speaking the proper incantation.
I held the vial up and swirled it around, then shrugged. It looked like most of my other potions, but it was interesting to think that I had created something that would cause such a change in someone. I was glad that it wasn’t going to be me.
By the time Saturday morning rolled around, Trevor had found himself a photographer. He told me about it, shouting through the door, as I brushed my teeth.
“His name’s Jean! He’s supposed to be this artsy type, but he’s willing to work on commission and I told him that he’d have a chance to shoot this really hot girl.”
I spat and stuck my head out the door. “Bet he hated that.”
“He kinda did, actually. He got all uppity about how photography was an art and how dare I try to sully it with the idea that he was going to do anything but see a collection of lines and shapes and light. I let him go on for a while and then just agreed with whatever the hell he’d said, and we’re cool now.”
“Great. When’s he expecting us?”
“In about an hour. Time enough, right? I mean, this isn’t going to take long to work, is it?”
“Shouldn’t take more than a minute.”
I went and got the vial from where I’d put it in my sock drawer. He squinted at it. “And it’ll wear off, right?”
“Sure. Takes about twelve hours.”
“Super. Anything else I should know?”
“Don’t take another potion while you’re under the effects of this one. The magic could interact in unpredictable ways.”
“Then what could happen?”
“Um, anything. Actually. At all.”
He gave me a look, saw that I wasn’t kidding, and said, “Well, that’s not terrifying. Hokay, down the hatch.”
He uncorked the potion and drank it down in one gulp. For a moment, nothing happened, and then he frowned. “That feels fucking weird.”
“You might want to sit down.”
He headed for the couch, sitting down abruptly as the magic took effect and started changing him. It didn’t look painful, as I’d expected, and the whole thing was sort of anticlimactic. I’d expected writhing, at least.
Instead he seemed almost sleepy, lying there as his skin darkened. His legs got longer, both they and his arms slimming as the changes went on. He wore nothing but boxers and a bath robe, so I was able to clearly see the way that the bulge in his crotch melted away. His hips widened at the same time, first stressing and then tearing the fabric of his boxers as his ass swelled. His new breasts swelled softly on his chest, not nearly as impressive as his ass but definitely there. The most jarring changes were to his face, the cheekbones lifting and the lips plumping as I watched. By the time he was done, he had the kind of face that I would have expected to see on a warrior queen, all sensual eyes and proud planes. His hair was jet black and still cut short.
Trevor sat up, her mouth moving in shock as she looked at herself. “Holy fuck,” she whispered. Her voice was a little low for a woman but otherwise unremarkable. “It really worked.”
She stood up, her movements a little unsteady, and she immediately cupped her new breasts. They weren’t huge, but they were noticeable. “These are nice,” she said.
“Uh. Thanks?”
She didn’t respond. She kept on with her exploration, moving her hands down to the waist of her boxers and trying to tug them open to see what was between her legs. The waistband was loose enough on her slim waist, but the boxers were packed to the bursting point after that and she couldn’t see much.
“We’re going to have to cut those off,” she said. She gave me a faintly accusing look.
“Hey, you saw what he wanted on the order form.”
“Yeah, and I guess we gave it to him.” She tilted her head and looked behind her to look at her own ass, and when that didn’t work she made her unsteady way into the bathroom instead. She was tall enough that she could admire herself from behind if she stood on her tiptoes. “Fuck a duck ,” she said when she finally m
oved the bathrobe out of the way and got a clear view of herself.
“You’re going to make some lonely guy with too much money very happy,” I said.
“No shit. Jesus.” She kept staring at her ass, flexing first one cheek and then the other. I rolled my eyes and put the bundle of smart clothes down on the toilet.
“There you go,” I said. “Hope you have a cowboy hat ready.”
I left her admiring herself and went back into the living room to wait for her. After a few minutes I called out, “Trevor! Burning daylight here!”
“Hold your horses!”
A few minutes later she came out and spread her arms to display herself. “Ta daa!” she said.
She wore a flannel shirt up top, unbuttoned and tied at the belly to show her flat stomach. It incidentally also gave a wondrous view of her hips. She wore a pair of jeans so tight that I wondered whether she could walk, but then I stopped thinking when she turned to the side to give me a view of That Ass. She was breathtaking. I knew, because for a moment I couldn’t breathe.
“Jimmy. Yo. Snap out of it!” she said, snapping her fingers at me. She turned, putting her butt away so that I could think again.
“I’m a fucking miracle worker,” I said, grinning.
“Yeah, you’re the pope. Can we get going?”
It took us another could of minutes to get her smart-fabric shoes on and transform them into cowboy boots. Smart fabric worked well but it was slow to respond. It made sense; you didn’t want a stray thought suddenly changing your clothing in public. I said, “What about a hat?”
She waved off my concern. “Got it in the car. Let’s go. You’re driving.”
I followed her out into the hall and then down the stairs. Watching her from behind was amazing, even though she was unsteady on her new legs. She learned quickly, though, and by the time that we got out to the car she wasn’t stumbling much at all. I opened the passenger side door and grinned at her.
She gave me a dirty look and got in, settling herself with some difficulty; you don’t think about how different a car seat feels if you’re three inches taller than usual. To say nothing of the other changes, of course, which had to be distracting. I got in on the other side and we took off.
I said, “So what’s it like?”
“What’s what like?”
Trevor grinned when I rolled my eyes. She said, “I mean, it’s really different, but at the same time I’m used to a lot of it. Still have two arms and legs, you know? But everything feels off, is all. Not painful. Just different from what I’m used to. Didn’t expect some of it. And damn these pants are tight.”
“I noticed that.”
“Yeah, I noticed you noticing. Don’t stare at my ass like that, man.”
“Trust me, you’d be doing the same thing.”
She sighed. “Fine, whatever. Boobs are fun, though.”
“Well I knew that already.”
“I mean they’re even fun to have. These are just the right size. They’re here, but they don’t get in the way. Not like my boo-tay.”
“You’re the one who took the order.”
“Yeah, well. It’s gonna be fun to see what we get next when it’s your turn.”
I thought about protesting, but fair was fair. She was taking all this pretty well. She dug around in the back seat and came up with the hat, and I spent the time trying not to run off the road thanks to the world-class butt in my face.
Jean’s photography studio was right next to a strip club called Absolute Ecstasy. I glanced at it and said, “Classy.”
“Nice place, actually,” she said. She worked her way out of the car, almost losing her balance but catching herself at the last second. “Damn. To walk like this, you gotta get this thing moving and then hang on, mostly.” She slapped her ass and then headed for the studio as I tried to look anywhere else.
I gave up on that by the time we got to Jean’s door. He was on the third floor, and I’d followed Trevor and her magical ass up both flights of stairs on the way there. She would have made a priest give up on his vows. Trevor knocked, and there was a crashing noise from the other side of the door. An irritated voice yelled, “Fuck off!”
“But I have an appointment!” said Trevor, grinning at me.
The door flew open, revealing a tall, slim man standing there, panting. He didn’t wear a shirt, and his long blond hair stuck out all over the place. His mood improved noticeably when he saw Trevor. “Who’re you?” he said, looking her up and down with undisguised interest.
“I’m Trevor’s friend. We’re supposed to do a shoot.” She tipped her hat.
“Oh, right, the cowboy thing. I found a saddle, come on in.”
He turned and led us inside. Jean’s studio was also his apartment, the whole thing was dedicated to his craft. The day to day of keeping himself alive was obviously not a priority; he had his bed and his hot plate in one corner, and that seemed to be the extent of it. God knows that he didn’t ever put more clothing on; the entire time I was there, he wore nothing but a ratty pair of sweatpants.
“So what do we do first?” said Trevor. She sounded nervous for the first time since her change, and I kept an eye on her as Jean bustled around the set. I was just watching to make sure that she wasn’t going to freak out. I swear.
Jean led us to the set and showed us where Trevor was going to take her pictures. It was a simple thing; he had set up a post with a saddle on it, strong enough for her to sit on if he told her to do so. “Are you wearing what you want for the shoot?” he said, all business now that we were getting close to the shoot.
Trevor nodded. “This is it. Do I…what do you need me to do?”
Jean started snapping out orders and Trevor did her best to comply. I had thought that we were only going to be there for a little while, snap a couple dozen pictures and then go home, but that wasn’t even close to the case. We were there for hours. Jean clicked that fucking shutter hundreds of times, taking a picture every second or so as Trevor worked it. And Trevor really worked it once she got over being nervous about the whole situation.
At Jean’s command she stripped, very slowly, and he took pictures of every single part of the process. He took so many shots, in fact, that I even started to develop some of that professional detachment that he showed during the process; I simply got used to how Trevor looked, and while her bare breasts were great there’s very little that a person can stare at for hours without becoming used to it.
Trevor wasn’t nearly as nervous about her tits as she was about the lower half. She wasn’t used to having breasts, and the idea that they were something to be hidden wasn’t as ingrained as the idea that she wasn’t supposed to walk around without pants. She took a lot of encouragement, and finally Jean told her to take a break. She threw on a robe to cover her boobs while she came to sit down next to me.
“How’re you holding up?” I said.
“It’s not as bad as I thought it would be. It kinda was at first, since I’m not used to, you know, all this . But it’s not too bad.”
“You ready for the next part?”
She took a deep breath and shrugged. “I think that I am.”
“You don’t have to do this you know.”
“I didn’t say that it was awful. I get to play with boobs.”
“There you go.”
“And hey, you get to watch.”
“I admit that I’m watching.”
She patted me on the shoulder. “It’s all right. I get to watch next time.”
She got up and went back to the set when Jean called her, and then it was time for her to seriously strip. Within minutes she was down to her panties, and then she was naked. I stared. I admit it. I knew exactly who and what she was behind those dark eyes, but I stared.
She leaned back against the saddle, her incredible legs spread a little and her fingers toying with herself. She gasped a little, her eyes widening when she touched herself, and Jean caught it on camera. She worked everything she had, standi
ng in positions that looked awkward as she showed off her hips and frankly amazing ass to the adoring camera. She knelt and bent and spread, every movement more and more comfortable as she went, and the camera kept on clicking, clicking.
By the time that Jean was done with the shoot I knew every inch of Trevor’s new body. It was well-made; I did good work. I knew that a lot of it was more to do with the subjective desires of the magic and the guy who’d ordered the look, but still.
Finally Jean wrapped it up and said, “Okay, get dressed. Nice job. I’ll have Trevor come over and we can pick the best shots.”
He put the camera away and headed over to his computer, where he dismissed our entire existence as he went to work on the pictures. I was impressed; even though he and I had both spent the day looking at Trevor’s altered body, a naked woman wasn’t something that could just be dismissed even through familiarity. I watched with appreciation as she dressed. A day of being naked had worn some of her self-consciousness away, so she didn’t try to hide herself.
We bid Jean goodbye. He didn’t even look up from his computer. Not that I could blame him or anything; Trevor was dressed again, and Jean had plenty of pictures of her naked to look at. We went back downstairs and piled into my car.
On the way home I said, “So how are you feeling?”
“A little tired of you asking me how I’m feeling, mostly,” she said.
“Sorry, but I’m curious. Call it professional curiosity.”
She snorted, an indelicate noise. “Professional. All right, fine, I’m doing just fine. There’s no problem, and I’m not particularly upset about the pictures.”
“I was a little worried about how you’d feel about that part, actually.”
She blinked at me. “Why? It’s not my body they’re looking at in those pics.”
I didn’t have a response. If she was in that kind of denial then there wasn’t much I could do about it.
“How much longer is it gonna be before I change back?” she said as we went into the apartment.
I looked at the clock. “A few hours. Five, or so? No more than that. That was a long shoot.”