Alchemical Augmentations: A Growth Story

“Are you sure it works as intended?”, she asked with a whisper.
“Hundred percent certain. It has to be the finest work of my life.”
For her it was enough. Though by all standards she could only be considered slightly more than a mere novice in the field of arcane arts and alchemy, Arthea sensed enough magical energy floating in the vial to believe that the alchemist’s words were true. Moreover, the seductive power she labelled the bottle to contain was also ideal for her, and her sisters’ goals. There was nothing left to discuss. She needed to obtain the elixir…
“You said you are not willing to sell your masterpiece, right, Master Rizzik?”, the woman now asked as she once again approached the merchant, leaning above his ear, her bust ever so slightly pressed against his chest as she whispered.
“But would you say the same, if you were given a price that not even Lady Ravenwind could compete with?”, she inquired, her lips brushing against his skin. This caused Rizzik’s cheeks to heat up.
“W-What are you talking about?”, he asked on a slightly stuttering tone. “Her Eminence is the richest person in Durmrin, second only to the baroness. There’s no way you could overbid her. Impossible!”

“Oh, is it? Let’s see your opinion after this…”, and as she sensed his beginning lack of confidence and credibility, Arthea actually let go of a chuckle, moving her hand in her satchel.
“I’m willing to pay you a hundred ducats for your magical elixir, salesman. And…”, here, she pulled out a parchment written with bright, pulsing green ink.
‘The sisters truly outdid themselves this time. Even I can’t tell it’s fake…’, she thought showing him the paper.
“An approval of the Elder Council for you, Master Rizzik of Durmrin, to become an official member of our Circle, and a wholly accepted and certified Wizard.”
“T-The Elder Council…?! Let me see!”, and as she showed little to no opposition, he quickly snatched the parchment from the woman’s hands, reading through the whole certificate again and again with large eyes of disbelief.
“B-But why now? I… I don’t understand, it can’t be true!”
“Oh, I can assure you it’s true.”, the woman now said with a wide grin as she was within reach of victory.
“Let me explain. I was sent here to check whether you were truly worth of your reputation, and I asked Lady Ravenwind to give me an aiding hand. That beautification serum of yours, it wasn’t meant for Her Eminence, but for the Council to determine the limits of your skills. I’m here now to retrieve your creation, and to give you the document based on my decision and approval. Of course, a potion of this scale requires both resources and time, that’s why both me and Her Eminence are willing to support you with some funds on top of the certificate. Please, accept it as our gift.”

For the upcoming couple of seconds only the breathing of the two broke the silence, and the casual whispers of the alchemist, who was running through a total hurricane of emotions from suspicious disbelief to pride and delight, from fury to joy and finally, from denial to acceptance. Arthea’s gaze remained emotionless as she observed the elder man, carefully following every little peak of feelings she encountered. Everything was depending on this moment, so she had to choose the time to speak. Apparently, it had just arrived…
“So…what is your answer, Master Rizzik?”, she finally asked emphasising the last two words. The next moment, she found herself in the embrace of the elder man, who cried with joy and bliss as he tucked his head beneath her chin, tears raining down her chest.
‘Poor, poor unfortunate fool…’, she thought after the initial shock, her gaze filling with sorrow and to some extent even regret as she embraced the man she betrayed.




The woman left Rizzik’s workshop with the potion in her satchel, and, although she was constantly trying to deny the latter, with a sour taste left in her mouth. Even as she left Durmrin and headed towards the nearby chapel, Arthea still found herself…her thoughts wandering back to Rizzik. The poor man was shouting praises and other phrases to express his gratefulness all the way until she got out of sight from his shop. It was embarrassing, truly embarrassing. It was embarrassing for him, and even more embarrassing for the woman who knew it very well that the best day of the alchemist’s life was soon to be turned into the worst day of his existence. But at least, she had got what she needed. The priestess now took the vial in hand and raised it to her eyes, admiring as the sunlight shimmered through the pink concoction.
“At least, the ritual will be worth the trouble. We’ll finally be able to succeed.”, she was sure about that. The gleaming potion, its strength…there was no doubt about success in Arthea’s soul. As she finally reached the monastery, the Chapel of the Nymphs of Beauty just outside the town, at most a mile in the woods, and she stepped inside, the woman instinctively pushed one of the carpets aside, opening a wooden door hidden beneath. The sight of a caracole appeared inside, leading down way under the building, into the catacombs. Arthea took a deep breath from the smell of moss and bilge that rose from below, before stepping in.
“Home, sweet home…”, she whispered with a strange mixture of abhorrence and excitement, the latter reaching higher and higher levels as she arrived to the bottom.

She was welcomed by an elder woman, around fifty or so, wearing similar attire to her own, with only the colour being a difference. Hers was dark as the night, with edges marked with silver, fading in comparison to Arthea’s. In fact, while the robes of the younger priestess were glimmering even now, reflecting the dim light of the torches and fluorescent moss on the walls, hers seemed to be absorbing the light, making her somewhat harder to notice, especially in the small gap on the wall she was standing in. However, Arthea was immediate to see, and acknowledge her presence, the young woman bowing with respect.
“Sister Theresa…”, she whispered waiting patiently for her sister to respond.
“You have arrived soon, sister. I presume it means you have succeeded, right?”, and her tone was just a tiny bit more distant than necessary.
“It does. The old man immediately jumped at the bait, and I have retrieved his formula.”, and to mark her words, she showed the woman the small vial, the serum shining even more mysteriously than before. The priestess glanced at the elixir, and although she lacked the sensitivity of Arthea, a small grin appeared on her lips.
“Excellent work, my child. But are you sure this will be enough?”
“Oh, trust me sister, I know it is. I have never sensed as much sensuality and eroticism in anything before, as I do in this vial. It almost feels like the essence of goddesses. The ritual will be a success. Tell the others to prepare the sanctuary.”
“Yes, sister Arthea.”, and now it was the elder woman’s turn to bow to her. It instinctively made the maid smirk with a taste of respect, and pride.

Arthea was quick to act now, tending not to lose any unnecessary seconds. The whole community acted the same, with nuns running from door to door informing each other about the news, and preparing for the ceremony. As for our priestess, she immediately returned to her room, perhaps the largest of the chambers, prepared not to just serve as a bedroom but also a place of witchcraft. Arthea quickly moved to a small cauldron previously set up by a hole filled with moss and wood, and she quickly set fire with the help of a spell she learnt by the academy years before. Once it was ready, she a covered her face with a thick layer of cloth, and she took a knife in her right. The upcoming minutes were spent with the young woman slicing down the wax from each and every candle of hers in scale like pieces, the stuff soon boiling in the cauldron.
‘Now, the most important ingredient…’, and she spilled the elixir into the molten wax, the cauldron beginning to bubble as a part of the potion was released in the form of smoke and steam.
‘I hope it will be enough…’, she thought as even though her face was covered, she could still sense a small amount of vapour entering her nostrils. ’Perhaps I should use an amplifying spell…’
But she couldn’t reach the point of actually doing it, as she suddenly found herself letting go of a soft, sultry moan, just as her nipples poked through her dress and she involuntarily moved one hand to caress the inner part of her thighs.
‘No, definitely no amplification is needed. This stuff is strong…simulating strong urges…’, and she gasped again as her dress suddenly began to feel a bit tight and restraining around her chest, the gap nicely filled with her swollen breasts. The woman didn’t notice this change though, just like she failed to see how her frame slowly crawled up to 6’0. She had other duties to fill, and soon, she divided the no longer boiling mixture in five different candle forms, each shaped like the hourglass torso of a woman, a string already in them. She quickly filled the forms as the cauldron felt surprisingly light in her hands, and once it was all empty she used ice magic to make the wax harden.
‘I’m becoming better at this every day…’, she thought proudly at how effective her spell was, before she took the candles out of the forms. She was finished in less than two hours…