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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Adult · #2078855
Nyx made a potion to fix her aging, but something's lost in translation.|Scat/Watersports
“Finally. At long last…” Nyx hummed to herself as she gathered the last of the ingredients listed on the old paper she had been given. The small pot of liquid bubbled on the fire, turning from an off-green color to a pale pink, with all the bubbles immediately ceasing; signaling the time for the next and final step. She placed the mixture of herbs and juices into a small bowl, plucked out a thread of her own hair, and placed it in, before beginning to stir it vigorously.

It was late enough at night that mostly everyone else was asleep, and she could be left to her own devices. She had her tent as far away from the others as possible; any nearer and the others would be poking in too often.

For this, she needed concentration. One wrong move, and all the research she had done, all the searching she had the army do for her, would all be for naught.

The contents of the bowl were soon blended into an odd mixture, thick and squishy, almost solid, but with lots of give to it. Certainly wasn’t the oddest component in a spell. With a shrug, she carefully poured it into the pot, making sure to get as much as she could into it, and stretched. This was it. Thanks to Kamui, they were able to raid some ruins of an old society of witches, that contained a tome holding the ritual she sought out. The pages were old and hard to read, but she copied down the information as well as she could, hopefully accurate enough to replicate the ritual.

Nyx’s hands waved above the pot and dark light ebbed from her fingers, turning into shadowy wisps that fell into the pot. The fire below extinguished with a loud swoosh, turning the whole tent nearly abysmally black if not for the moon shining outside. Steam arose from the mixture, twirling into pink and blue mist into the air, before finally dispersing, leaving the pot below with the final product.

Slowly, she dipped a flask into the mixture and covered it, swishing it around and observing it. Pale pink and baby blue swished and twirled together, creating a final color of… a rather unappetizing gray. Nyx winced from the sight of it, but shook her head. Seldom did exceptional medicine ever taste good.

She lit a candle and smiled, holding up the potion triumphantly. This was it. The potion’s name was lost on the page, so she had dubbed it herself; ‘Elixir of Progression’. This would fix her aging. She’d finally be able to age normally.

Carefully bringing it up to her lips, she closed her eyes and tilted the vial, the thick and warm liquid pouring into her mouth and down her throat.

Gulp, gulp, gulp…

In seconds, the drink was gone, and Nyx was shuddering from the taste. A few moments of discomfort were worth the results, she knew. All that was left to do, was wait for results. It’d take a while for them to show, perhaps in a year or two she’d see, but for now, she was confident that she had fixed the problem as she went to bed for the night.

Or so she had thought.

Morning came. The dark mage was actually able to sleep in for a good while, mind filled with pleasant dreams and thoughts, wondering what she’d look like as an adult, what she would sound like, and more. Her mood was quickly dashed when she found that her bed was soaked when she woke up! Someone around camp must’ve found it to be sooo funny to put water on her bed to make it seem like she peed, har har! Perhaps this is why she didn’t like hanging around them too much.

But she found it odd when she realized she hadn’t needed to pee later on. It was part of her morning routine, but she simply hadn’t needed to. Nyx shrugged it off eventually to that she simply forgot to drink much the day prior in her eagerness to get her potion done.

She spent her morning bottling up the rest of her mixture. There was enough left for a good five doses, enough to keep up the dosage for about a year or so, to the point where she’d finally see results. She prayed it would work, and she already had things set up to check if she really did change. A journal was by her bed so she could record any growing pains, and she had a sort of height chart on a tree outside, so she could scrape off her height after every other week to see any progress, and even a…

Her train of thought was interrupted when she felt something… odd. She suddenly felt warm, and strangely content? Nyx shrugged it off and continued her bottling, before finally a smell hit her. A warm, pungent smell that assaulted her senses, making her recoil. Did one of the wyverns stray too close to her tent?! Groaning, she turned to storm out, fists clenched tightly at her sides. Oh, the stable masters were going to get a curse from her if she had anything to say about it…!

Nyx took a couple steps before she realized exactly where the mess came from. Squish squish came from her backside, and she could feel her panties starting to get tugged down her thighs. One hand grabbed their waistband and the other felt behind her to confirm her beliefs. Sure enough, a thick, squishy warmth of her own mess was pushing out against the thin cloth of her pnaties. She carefully waddled to her mirror to avoid making a mess and turned around, bending over to get a better look. Her poor panties looked so ruined already, and were almost overflowing with her solid waste, making them sag and sway slightly.

With a quiet, embarrassed sigh, she made a mental note to add an addendum to the end of the ritual.

Side effects may include incontinence…
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