"Wrong Potion, Mistress"
A Daz3D render and #KinkyScribble. 674 words, writing/editing time, ~1 hour
CW: Addiction, aphrodisiac, breast/curve loss, muscle loss, shrinking, F/f, role reversal
The wine was on ice, the charcuterie board was immaculate. Everything was in order, and her guests would arrive any minute.
Emma fidgeted. There has to be one more thing. Something else she could do to make the evening slightly more perfect. It was a gnawing, itching sensation. In her chest, at the back of her throat.
The answer was obvious, of course. What she could to really make an impression. It was a bad idea. Especially in front of all these people, none of whom could know her secret.
A terrible idea, she thought, as her feet carried her to her bedroom. But it didn’t have to be a big thing. Just a little bump. A few extra inches, so she wouldn’t need heels. More curves, to help fill out her dress, a little muscle tone for her otherwise slender frame. If she did it subtly, no one would even notice. It was like a good contouring with a high quality eyeliner. If you did it right, it should look natural.
Emma unlocked her hope chest, and pulled open the velvet-lined drawer. Inside, she kept the latest version of her formula - alongside an emergency antidote, in case things went wrong. She looked over her shoulder somewhat guiltily, making sure she was alone. Then carefully, allowed one little drop to fall on her tongue.
Instantly, her body began to warm. She closed her eyes, luxuriating in it. Feeling it turn on transcription factors, elevate her metabolism, flood her body with hormones. It was like the most pleasant parts of puberty, condensed into a moment. She giggled, as her body began to change.
Of course, one drop would hardly be noticeable, reasoned a small voice in her mind. Two would be better. Wouldn’t it? She bit her lip, considering. An awful idea, the worst. But as soon as the thought had occurred, the decision was made. Really, it was her own fault. Her attention to detail had just made the formula feel too good. How could she be expected to resist?
She let a second drop fall from the stopper. Then a third. And a fourth.
“Mistress, I believe I’m done for the evening. Is there anything else I should attend….” Her maid trailed off, heavy footfalls stopping abruptly in the doorway. “Oh,” Lilian said. “Wrong potion, Mistress.”
Her head was spinning now, her pulse pounding in her ears. Her dress no longer fit properly, and something was wrong, so wrong. The strap slipped from her shoulder, slid down her arm. For a moment, her breasts held the fabric in place, but even as she watched she could see her firm C cups growing smaller, melting into perky little B’s. The dress tumbled, folding in on itself, then abruptly fell to pool at her ankles, her too-slender hips no longer any obstacle to gravity.
“We agreed, the red potion was for growth.” There was laughter in Lilian’s voice, as she entered the room. “The blue is the antidote.”
“I thought red meant stop,” Emma whimpered, her voice tiny and pathetic even to her own ears.
“Huh-uh. Red is to heat up, and blue is to cool off. Oh dear Mistress. You’ve really taken too much this time. Just look at you.”
Emma found herself frozen in place, as her maid approached. Her whole body vibrated as the changes accelerated. Losing her curves, losing her strength… shrinking so fast now. It felt good, why did she make it feel so good?
“Don’t worry Mistress. I’ll tell your guests that you are indisposed this evening. And then.” Lilian bent, reaching for her.
Emma didn’t run. She even felt herself leaning forward her giant maid, like a tiny sapling in a storm. “What are you going to do to me?” she groaned.
“Why, make sure you remember for next time, Mistress.” The hands of the giantess were her almost upon her. Emma shivered, and considered a fifth drop. “And since we have all evening now, I know just the way to make the lesson stick.”