Wicked Witches' Wishes

Wicked Witches' Wishes

A Futa-Town Tale

Thursday morning.

Riley's heart pounded in his chest as he pushed open the ornate, carved wooden door and stepped quickly into the expansive reception area of Wicked Witches' Wishes. As the door's bell jingled above his head, a wave of adrenaline swept through his petite body. Too nervous to look directly at the dozen or so other waiting clients who barely acknowledged his arrival, he tried to control his breathing as he walked tentatively toward the reception desk.

A beautiful young witch looked up from behind the immaculate desk and smiled wide. "Good morning, sir. How may I help you?"

Anxiety threatened to render Riley mute. Clearing his throat, he struggled to find his voice. "I'm Riley," he managed, his apprehension obvious. "Riley Rose. I have a nine o'clock appointment."

"Of course, sir," responded the witch unperturbed, her green eyes sparkling above her smile. She looked down at her ancient, yellowed appointment ledger. "And with Miss Blackwood, I see," she said. "Lucky you."

"Yes," was Riley's only answer.

The young witch winked mischievously. "I'll go and see if she's ready for you now."

"Thank you."

Standing up, the receptionist-witch revealed her perfectly tailored black satin uniform as well as the firm ass it hugged. She disappeared through a nearby portal-like wooden door, less fancy and of sturdier construction than the main entry door; its thick iron bolts indicating considerable security.

Alone again, Riley finally glanced around, curious to see who else would be here.

The majority were other young adults like himself, both male and female, all deeply immersed in their own private meditations. A few were accompanied by a parent, mostly mothers it appeared, who sat close to their progeny, holding their hands and offering whispers of comfort and reassurance. One solitary young woman was biting her fingernails compulsively, her own apprehension palpable. Riley could only wonder what decision she was struggling with so clearly.

"Mr. Rose?" called the receptionist-witch, returning and gesturing to the slightly taller, slightly older witch who followed. "Allow me to introduce, Miss Blackwood."

Riley's breath caught in his throat at the sight of the second witch's paralyzing ice-blue eyes. Unable to hold her gaze, he glanced at the obligatory conical witch's hat positioned slightly askew atop her raven-black hair, as well as her full-length black satin robe. A heartbeat later and a wide smile replaced the new arrivals' initial austere expression, matching the receptionist's.

"Good morning, Mr. Rose," said Miss Blackwood, her voice a seductive purr. "It's a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance," she continued, reaching forward and offering her hand.

Riley's heart was pounding as he reached forward and took it. Embarrassment quickly followed as he failed to connect properly, resulting in an awkward and meek exchange. If it bothered Miss Blackwood, she didn't let it show.

"Right this way, Mr. Rose, said Miss Blackwood, gesturing back towards the portal-door through which she had just appeared "I have everything ready and waiting." She then turned her smile to the receptionist. "Thank you, Aurora," she said, before leading the way for Riley.

The receptionist-witch nodded her acknowledgment, "Of course, Miss Blackwood," she answered. Then winked once more at Riley. "And good luck to you too, Mr. Rose. Or should I say, Miss Rose?" And before Riley could respond, she too walked away.

* * *

"Please have a seat Mr. Rose, or do you prefer Riley?" asked Miss Blackwood, gesturing to a comfortable looking chaise lounge in the center of her private office, positioned to face her own desk."

"Riley, please," he answered, sitting down on the red velvet covered cushioning. Looking around, he was impressed by the expansive collection of ancient tomes and occult paraphernalia on display, all neatly arranged on deep shelves.

Leaning back against her own chair's well-worn leather, Miss Blackwood assumed a calculatingly relaxed posture, radiating causal openness. She noted Riley's continuing anxiety and understood perfectly. "May I offer you some advice, Riley?" she asked.

Riley ceased glancing around furtively and looked back, instantly re-hypnotized by the witch's ice-blue eyes that now appeared to glow in the room's muted light. "Of course."

"It takes a long time for anyone to sit where you are right now, and only after a long and exhaustive process, as you well know."

"Yes, Miss Blackwood," Riley nodded, still staring into those glowing eyes.

"The word wicked, in Wicked Witches' Wishes, is for marketing purposes only. Here within 'The Kingdom,' we prosper at the Queen's pleasure while abiding by her law and regulations. To that end, we're not an evil organization. We don't trick people, we don't trap them, and we do our due diligence as I'm sure you experienced when my colleagues interviewed you extensively?"

"Yes, Miss Blackwood," acknowledged Riley.

"The only thing that happens here, is the fulfillment of our clients' most ardent desires. Namely yours." She waved a hand dismissively before continuing. "And please, call me Angela. Miss Blackwood is my mother, as the expression goes."

A wan smile appeared on Riley's face at the joke. "Yes... Angela," he said.

"Even the payment for today's services, as punitive as it may have initially seemed, was strictly calculated on the merits of your case." She leaned forward and looked down at an open scroll of parchment on her desk - Riley's contract - as if checking to confirm a final detail. "And I can see that the fee has been accepted by both parties."

"It has," acknowledged Riley, although a shadow of doubt seemed to cross his mind before quickly disappearing.

"Good," continued Angela, leaning back in her chair again. "Now, the fact that you are here, assures me that you made your decision a long time ago. Correct?"

Riley nodded.

"So, enjoy it!" exclaimed the witch. "Savor the moment and never doubt your heart again."

The words made sense to Riley, and he felt his lingering anxiety begin to slowly dissolve like the morning's fog. Still feeling his heart beating in his chest, he realized it was now from a sense of excitement, rather than fear. His smile brightened.

Angela maintained her momentum. "Now, magic is as much art, as it is science. So, for me to match today's potion precisely to your wish I'm going to need you to answer a few questions. But most importantly, I need you to answer me with one hundred percent honesty. Can you do that?"

Riley nodded his assent. "Of course, Miss Black... Angela."

Angela adopted an upright and academic posture, placing a blank sheet of parchment atop the contract-scroll. Taking up a long-feathered quill-pen from a nearby inkwell, she prepared to begin taking notes. "You may feel that you've provided this information previously," she said, "but I really do need to hear the particulars myself."

"I understand," said Riley.

The witch gestured towards a nearby full-length dressing mirror. "Our clients often find it helpful to look at their reflection as they answer. You're welcome to do the same if you'd like."

Riley considered the offer for a moment and then stood up. Moving over, he looked his reflection up and down in the gilded frame. Only one hundred and sixty-five centimeters tall, and weighing fifty kilograms wringing-wet, his petite physique was nonetheless as toned as a professional dancer; sculpted and maintained by hard work and careful dieting. He was proud of his body but not truly satisfied. Not yet. He looked up at his face and scrutinized the finely shaped features staring back, appreciating his androgyny.

"Let's start with the basics then, shall we?" asked Angela, breaking his reverie. "Your hair?"

Riley looked up at his mouse-brown pixie-cut. "You can make it long, right?"

"Of course," answered the witch. "As long as you'd like."

Riley twisted side-on. "Past my shoulders? So I can braid it?" he confirmed.

"Absolutely. What about color?"

"Purple? Like, almost black, but purple when reflecting light. Like Katy Perry had?"

Angela smiled. "I know exactly what you're talking about." She made the note. "What about body hair?"

Riley looked at his chin. "I'll lose all facial hair, won't I? A man's facial hair, I mean?"

"Correct. That much is guaranteed. But we can tailor the rest from the neck down."

"Hairless," said Riley without needing to think. "I want to be hairless."

"A very popular choice these days," said the witch, making a further note. "As you know, we can't change your height, but what about your weight? Some of our clients feel that a little extra padding helps accentuate the curves."

"No thank you," answered Riley quickly. "No weight." He seemed to reconsider for a minute. "Or as little as is absolutely necessary."

"I'm glad you said that," said Angela, looking up and giving him a smile. "Tits and hips don't come for free."

Riley smiled at the amusing idiom.

"So, let's talk about those next," continued Angela. "Breasts? Have you thought about a cup size?"

"C-cup," answered Riley, looking down at his extant flat chest.

"C-cup," confirmed the witch.

Riley seemed to feel it necessary to justify his choice. "I don't want them to be all that people see."

Angela chuckled sincerely. "C-cup it is. And there's always body-jewelry, if you ever want more... attention."

"Exactly." Said Riley, already picturing the nipple-piercings he had planned.

"Waist?"

Riley swiveled his hips subconsciously, surveying his tapered waist and flat stomach as he did so. "As narrow as possible, please."

"Narrow," confirmed Angela. "And ass?"

"Heart shaped, definitely," smiled Riley, twisting to look at his tight glutes. "I want to rock tight jeans and a mini-dress," he said, his excitement evident.

Angela smiled again as she continued scribbling. "I'm sure you already do," she said, implying that he had no doubt experimented with crossdressing. "And if I may, can I suggest that you keep those magnificent pins exactly as they are?"

Riley looked down at his legs. They weren't especially long, given his diminutive height, but they were exquisitely proportioned and toned. "Agreed," he said.

"And your cock?" asked Angela next, with no sign of embarrassment whatsoever.

Riley snapped back to reality. "My cock?" he said, as if he'd never even thought about it. "What do you mean?"

Angela looked up and smiled. "Well," she said, her bemused expression speaking volumes. "Some clients want it shrunk to embody their submission, or to help with their new wardrobe. Others want it to be bigger, to exhibit it. It all comes down to the individual."

Suddenly, Riley realized he had achieved a semi-erect state without even knowing. He had to consciously stop himself from trying to cover it while simultaneously sounding casual. "I hadn't actually thought about that," he said.

"Why don't you take it out?" suggested the witch.

Riley blinked in bewilderment. "Take it out?"

"Yes, take it out," said Angela, not even looking at him. "It's a big decision and you want to get it right."

Riley felt his heart thumping against his ribcage, with hands only slightly shaking, he simply unzipped his jeans and pulled them open, before freeing his semi-engorged cock from his underwear.

"Feel free to handle it as you'd like," continued Angela nonchalantly.

"Handle it?" queried Riley again.

"Of course, silly, stroke it until it's fully hard. Then look at it and imagine the body you just described. Does it suit, or does it need changing?"

Angela's encouragement, combined with the absurd eroticism of the moment, meant Riley's cock reached near peak hardness before he even touched it. Gently wrapping his petite fingers around the shaft, he began stroking slowly, using his imagination just as the witch had instructed. He considered what he saw. At six and a half inches fully erect, seven if you were being generous, it certainly wasn't a big cock. But Riley had always liked its shape and proportions. He quickly reached a decision. "No," he said simply, "keep it as it is."

Angela nodded as if to herself. "I'm not supposed to advocate one way or the other," she said, "but I don't mind admitting I think you've made the right choice."

Riley blushed at the compliment.

"Have a seat again," said Angela, gesturing back towards the chaise. "You can zip yourself back up if you'd like or you can keep touching yourself if you prefer. I don't mind."

Although no longer embarrassed, Riley chose to zip himself back up as he sat back down.

"Well," said Angela, "that's the physical requirements satisfied. Now I want to know about the who?"

"The who?" asked Riley, suddenly unsure. "I'm doing this for me."

The witch's glowing blue eyes locked onto his. "Forgive me, Riley," she said, "but I've been doing this for a very long time." She put down her quill pen and relaxed back into her seat. "And in all that time, I've come to accept one inescapable truth; that everyone has 'someone' that they're doing this for. Someone they want to share their new life with. That person might change over time, perhaps several times over the years, but there's never not 'someone'."

Riley suddenly understood. She was talking about Lana. His erection twitched, causing him to momentarily regret putting it away.

Angela detected the reaction. "Tell me about them."

"What do you want to know?"

"As I mentioned before, the magic I'm going to invoke, there's more than just a little nuance to it and nuance makes all the difference. So, tell me, who makes your pulse race? Who makes your palms sweaty and your mouth dry when you think about them?"

Feeling his body react just as Angela had described, Riley answered softly. "Her name's Lana. She's my housemate."

Angela resumed taking notes. "And are your feelings toward Lana reciprocated?"

Riley struggled for a moment. "Yes," he said, before quickly changing his mind. "No." And again. "I don't know. But I hope so."

Unperturbed by the vacillation, Angela pressed on. "Tell me about her?"

"She's a Goddess!" answered Riley, his eyes sparkling. "Have you seen Netflix's animated series, Devil May Cry?"

"Of course."

"Picture Mary Ann Arkham from that, but taller, and much more muscular."

"Very nice," conceded Angela sincerely, picturing the fantasy female soldier just described.

"She's an officer in the Futa-Taskforce," added Riley.

Hearing mention of the Royal Guard's elite paramilitary policing unit, Angela looked up in surprise. "The Futa-Taskforce?" she asked, an eyebrow raising. "So, I can assume Lana's a Futanari herself?"

Riley nodded. "Yes."

An image formed in the witch's mind. Futanari were universally possessed of almost preternatural bodies, the tall stature and muscularity of their female physiques putting any Amazon warrior to shame. Typically, beautiful, if not stunning, with amazing breasts, they none-the-less possessed a man's cock and balls instead of a vagina. "Very impressive," she acknowledged to herself.

Unaware of his audience's musing, Riley continued his depiction. "She commands her own assault-team, too."

Angela nodded. "How old is she?"

"Twenty-eight," answered Riley, "She's tall, she's beautiful, and she scares the absolute shit out of people." He smiled as he reconsidered that last point. "But not me." The smile grew wider. "I know there's a kitten hiding behind the tiger."

Angela smiled in turn. "And what about her cock? I assume you're acquainted with it?"

Riley blushed. "Oh yeah! It's pretty big. Nearly ten-inches erect."

Angela puffed out her cheeks in appreciation. "So, the two of you are lovers?"

Riley's smile faded. "Kind of."

Angela noted the change in Riley's tone. "Only, kind of?"

"It's hard to explain."

"Then perhaps you should start from the beginning," suggested the witch. "You said you were housemates. How did that come about?"

Riley took a moment to collect his thoughts. "It was twelve months ago, my first time in The City. I'd finally secured a real job, with The Kingdom's Royal Service no less. It's nothing special, just data-entry and some basic analytics, but it was everything a twenty-one-year-old sissy from the country dreamed of." Then his expression soured. "Until I found out how much rents cost here. It was either go back to the farm or live in a dumpster."

"You don't have to tell me," nodded Angela, agreeing with the blunt assessment of the city's cost-of-living crisis.

Riley continued. "Then a work colleague showed me an old 'housemate wanted' post, on the Service's intranet. It'd gone unanswered for ages, but was still seeking someone who was quiet, clean, and most importantly, willing to look after 3 cats in their owner's frequent absence. I couldn't work out why no one had jumped at the offer. I called, spoke to a blunt female voice, and was told to come by the address that evening. I nearly shit myself when Lana answered the door!" laughed Riley. "Still dressed in her tight black combat fatigues and boots."

Angela laughed. "Not who you were expecting?"

Riley laughed again. "Fuck no! Even lowly admin-drones like me had heard of Lana Stone! Her reputation is legendary. How she'd hospitalized five people in the last six months, one of whom won't walk again. It made perfect sense why the 'housemate wanted' post had gone unanswered and why my colleague couldn't stop smiling while showing me."

"How did Lana react to you?"

"She didn't, or at least I didn't think so at the time. She was polite enough, I guess, but standoffish. She showed me her house and the room I'd be renting. Her thousand-yard-stare fixed on me the whole time. She introduced me to her cats." Riley smiled widely as he recollected. "I'm sure it was those little fur balls that sealed the deal, by taking to me immediately."

"And you moved straight in?"

"Yes."

"How was the domestic dynamic?"

"We were strangers for the first few months. Lana's job typically meant working nights or going away to conduct raids and things like that, so our paths seldom crossed. It didn't really matter to me, her cats and I became besties and any naughty thoughts I might have had about her and her tight uniform remained private. Until her best friends from work suddenly started showing up at the house."

"Friends from work? Futanari's too?"

"Yes."

"Does Lana prefer their company specifically, or perhaps regular women?"

"She's not a lesbian," he answered a little too quickly, before appearing to reconsider the statement. "Aside from a little kissing." He thought again. "Well, maybe more than a little. Her best friend is J. R., she basically adopted me as their team's mascot, dragging me to all their girls' nights out, dancing 'til dawn. Her real name's Dee, but everyone calls her J. R. because she looks just like Jessica Rabbit, but on steroids and she's definitely bisexual."

"When did things begin to change, between you and Lana?" asked Angela, steering Riley's train of thought back on track.

"I still had no idea how she really felt. She'd just watch me like a hawk in the clubs, keeping drunken assholes away while I danced suggestively with her team. I thought it was really endearing, like having my own personal Valkyrie as private security. Then J. R. got really, really drunk one night and told me that Lana liked me. Like, really liked me. She had done from the moment we met, and that's why J. R. and the other girls started coming around in the first place. They were sick of her sulking at work and even sicker of hearing her talk about me, so they decided to intervene.

"How did that make you feel?"

"Like Santa Clause had come early."

"Did anything happen that night?"

"No. J. R. ended up punching a guy she saw pinch a woman's ass without consent, and then puked all over Lana before passing out. It was all we could do to get out of there without being arrested. By the time we got home the romance was well and truly dead."

Angela shook her head and smiled at the story being described. "What happened then?"

"That's when I started my charm offensive. Lots of tight lycra booty-shorts and midriff singlets. I started hugging her as often as I could, a 'good morning' one here, a 'welcome home' one there, that kind of thing. And touching too, like squeezing her bicep, or a hand on her lower back as I scooched past in the kitchen. It all worked! Before too long, she was doing the same to me. Our next movie night was 'phase two'. We were sitting on the couch, at opposite ends, I waited until she got comfortable then casually twisted around and put my legs up across her lap. I felt her muscles tense, but then she put a hand on my foot without saying a word as casually as if she was holding my hand. I nearly died!

"Then Lana got hurt at work, nothing serious, just a sprained ankle. But it meant she was put on light duties and had to hobble around the house in a moonboot. I offered her plenty of foot massages, for purely therapeutic reasons, of course." He winked at Angela, who smiled in acknowledgement of the insinuation.

"Then one night we were sharing a bottle of red wine, and the alcohol must've reacted with Lana's painkillers. I was more than a little tipsy myself and I hadn't forgotten what J. R. told me. My hands went from massaging her feet, to stroking her bare legs, and before I knew it I was giving her a hand-job and we were kissing! It was so fucking hot! I can still hear the sounds she made, and then she came, so much wonderful cum! It spurted all over her stomach, her bathrobe. Some even hit my face. It was amazing! The next few months were a blur of kisses, cuddles and me giving her blowjobs every chance I could." Then, just as quickly as Riley's excitement had built recounting the story, it rapidly subsided.

"Go on," said Angela, keen to hear the story's conclusion.

A frown appeared on Riley's forehead. "But we never fucked, no matter how often I offered myself to her. It's like she had... has, this mental block. I thought she was ashamed of what we were doing. That the thought of fucking a man, even a sissy, repelled her."

"Did you ask her why she wouldn't go further?"

"No, I couldn't. I just cried. Eventually I called J. R. and told her what was happening. She explained everything to me, how Lana had been in love twice before. Proper love. Both times with a guy. And both times it ended in betrayal. The first was just curiosity on that bastard's part. The second was all about the conquest, so he could brag to his mates. Ever since, Lana equates sex with betrayal."

"That's not an uncommon story," said Angela, her expression genuinely empathetic.

Riley took a moment to compose himself before continuing. "This transformation," he said, "I want it for myself first, I always have. But if I can also prove to Lana that I'm different from those others, show her how much I love her, then maybe it could change her life too."

Returning her pen to its inkstand, Angela leaned back in her chair and appraised Riley anew. Her eyes positively sparkled as she spoke again. "It's times like this that my work stops being work, and becomes a genuine pleasure instead," she smiled.

* * *

Descending together along a twisting set of stone stairs, Riley and Angela arrived at yet another carved wooden door, this one set within a heavy stone arch. "And in here," said the witch, grasping the door's brass handle, "is where the magic actually happens." She paused for effect. "Are you ready?"

Riley nodded in response, his excitement rising rapidly.

"I bet you are," smiled the witch, then twisted the handle and led the way.

Riley's eyes opened wide as he took in the cave-like chamber, sparsely illuminated by several flaming torches. To one side, a solitary and scruffy barn-owl sat atop its high perch, scrutinizing the new arrivals with wide eyes. At the same time, a bright fairy, smaller than Riley's thumb, left a comet-like trail of glittering sparkles as it flew up to a high shelf, joining with a second and hiding behind a ceramic alchemical pot.

All around the walls, shelf after shelf supported all manner of varied containers, each filled with a wildly exotic potion ingredient, or teasing a glimpse of a mysterious specimen suspended in cloudy fluid. Loosely grouped, the seeming disarray was none-the-less divided and separated by ancient and battered spell-books.

In the center of the chamber sat a huge, black iron cauldron, supported atop a bed of glowing red coals. It immediately reminded Riley of a cannibal's cooking pot. Silver-mist rose and fell from within, spilling over the sides and drifting down to spread across the floor.

Riley's breath caught in his throat as he arrived beside the cauldron, disturbing the swirling mist and causing it to dissipate. As it did so, a beautiful woman was revealed, visible only from her neck up, appearing to luxuriate as if in a private hot tub. Sweat beaded on her forehead before trickling down her flushed cheeks and neck, joining with the softly glowing pink liquid in which she floated. Seeing her eyes closed, and unable to tell if she was breathing, a wave of concern swept through Riley. "She's not... dead, is she?" he asked Angela timidly, unsure if he wanted to know the answer.

Angela shook her head as she removed her robes, hanging them on a nearby coat stand. Beneath she wore a halter-neck version of the receptionist-witch's uniform, that left her toned shoulders and arms bare. "Of course not," she answered. "Alison is merely recuperating from her sterling first effort this morning."

"But you're... you're boiling her!" stated Riley.

"Nonsense," rebutted Angela. "Feel for yourself."

Hesitantly, Riley lifted a hand.

"Don't be scared," encouraged Angela as she took several ingredient containers down off the shelves, beginning her preparations for the upcoming spell.

Still convinced he was about to be scalded; Riley lowered a finger genially toward the simmering, steaming pink liquid. Much to his disbelief, only a warm sensual feeling, akin to tickling, flowed up the extremity as he made contact before spreading into his shaking hand. He scoffed in disbelief.

Reacting to Riley's presence, the floating woman moved slightly and issued a deeply sensual moan, though her eyes remained closed.

Pulling his hand back, Riley knew without a doubt that submerged within the liquid as she was, the woman must be in a state of considerable arousal.

"You see?" said Angela, now grinding ingredients within a mortar with a pestle. "It's called Liquid-O, one of our most jealously guarded proprietary creations."

"Who is she?" asked Riley.

"As I said, her name is Alison," said Angela, joining Riley at the cauldron and tipping the now powdered ingredients in without pause. "She's one of our many essence donors."

"Essence?"

Angela nodded. "The key ingredient in a dick-girl potion." She gestured to Riley's crotch. "After all, you're already providing the first part."

"But... how did she end up here? Like this?"

Angela gave Riley a funny look before answering. "She volunteered of course. All our donors are volunteers."

Riley couldn't hide his disbelief. "People volunteer for this?"

"That's correct," answered Angela, dismissing his misgiving. "Both men and women. They choose to exist within an endless erotic dream, constantly aroused and constantly on edge."

Riley contemplated the implications of such a reality. "Wow," was all he could manage.

Angela thought for a moment, wondering how she might better explain. Then it occurred to her. "When you first arrived this morning, did you notice the young woman already waiting in reception? The one chewing her nails to the quick?"

Riley thought for a moment then nodded. "Yes."

"I don't know for certain, but I'd be prepared to wager that she's not here for a transformation. She's going to volunteer."

Riley shook his head slightly. "No way."

The witch shrugged as if unable to articulate herself any more clearly. "Think of it as a calling. We don't seek people out, Riley, but rumors do leak. And for those of a certain disposition, the thought of this," she gestured to Alison, "it beckons to them like a siren's song."

Riley swallowed. "She won't be hurt, will she?" he asked.

"I've already told you, we don't hurt people here," answered Angela. "That type of thing is for the 'Nether Land'." And in saying so, she reached down and cradled Alison's cheek with her hand. "Watch," she said, before addressing the seemingly sleeping beauty. "Hey there, sweetie," she cooed.

Alison's eyes finally opened, though her gaze remained hooded. Seeing Angela's face looking down at her she returned the smile.

In response, Angela bent over the rim of the cauldron and pressed her lips to the other woman's, kissing her passionately.

Riley felt his cock harden in response, watching, as the two beautiful women's tongues danced.

After several long moments Angela broke the kiss, then whispered into Alison's mouth. "Are you ready to go again, gorgeous?"

Alison's eyes rolled up under their lids. "Oh yes," she moaned, her voice sounding almost desperate. "Please. I must..."

Smiling at the response, Angela stood up straight and extended a bare arm over the cauldron. As Riley looked on in anticipation, she began muttering a soft incantation. In response, Alison's naked body floated up within the glowing liquid like a marionette puppet being lifted by invisible strings, until she appeared to be floating flat on her back, only her dangling arms and lower legs remaining obscured by the fluid.

Riley blinked, realizing that he now had an unobstructed view of the woman's cleanly-shaven pussy, her thighs having drifted apart as she assumed this new pose.

Satisfied, Angela began a second incantation, this one slightly louder, which caused the pink liquid to begin glowing brighter. At the same time, the previous simmering increased to a low boil, accompanied by bright white bubbles that popped on the surface and released tiny dazzling sparks.

Riley watched as Angela lowered her outstretched hand, placing it directly over Alison's exposed sex. In response, Alison arched her back in an effort to raise her hips, eager to increase the pressure being applied. Heeding the woman's need, Angela parted the woman's labia with her fingers, opening the soft folds before sliding them inside her body. Alison cried out with pleasure this time.

Even Riley could tell that it wouldn't take long for Alison to orgasm.

As if reading his thoughts, Angela withdrew her fingers before deftly positioning the middle and ring fingers either side of Alison's clearly swollen clitoris and began rubbing. Ceasing her chanting, she leaned over and kissed the floating woman again, her other hand seeking a plump breast and pinching the ripe nipple.

A moment later and Alison's body went rigid, her muscles contracting and straining as the witch's pleasure-assault reached its crescendo. Convulsing, she cried out again, the pleasure of her orgasm almost too much to bear. In response, the bright pink liquid flashed a blinding white, sparks erupting like a kaleidoscope just below the surface.

To the side of the chamber, the owl ruffled its feathers and flapped its wings excitedly in response to the commotion, hooting loudly. While higher up, the two staring fairies danced and chittered enthusiastically, entertained by the erotic display below.

Seizing the moment, Angela ceased her ministrations and quickly dipped a clear glass, Erlenmeyer flask below the broiling surface, filling it near to the brim. At the same time, Alison's residual orgasm continued to wrack her body like an earthquake's aftershocks, until eventually she began to relax, slipping back into unconsciousness and sinking amidst boiling clouds of silver steam. As she did so, the surrounding liquid also calmed quickly, returning to a softly glowing pink.

Eyes as wide as the nearby owl's, Riley turned to look at Angela, who smiled back at him with what he could only assume was job satisfaction. The witch's own ice-blue eyes blazed as she delicately decanted the flask over the cauldron, carefully returning a specific amount of the glowing pink liquid and ensuring only the necessary dosage remained. Satisfied, she wedged a cork-stopper in the flask's neck and turned to look over at Riley. "Perfect," she winked.

* * *

Back in Angela's office, Riley sat on the velvet chaise once again, staring at the glass flask on the witch's desk, hypnotized by the glowing contents swirling within. "How quickly will it work?" he asked.

Angela finished updating several details in his file before answering. "Subtle changes will begin almost immediately," she said. "But the true transformation, that will happen overnight, while you sleep."

Riley suddenly sounded worried. "What if I'm too excited to sleep?"

Angela chuckled and smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, that won't be a problem. The potion will ensure that you do. Which reminds me," she said, her expression becoming slightly serious, "I'm required to warn you; unless you live within a thirty-minute commute, we strongly recommend that you wait until you get home before drinking it."

Riley nodded his understanding. "I'll wait," he confirmed. "What do I do then?"

Angela leaned back in her chair. "Enjoy it," she said simply. "If it were me, I'd strip naked and run a hot bath. Relax. Drink the potion, then crawl into bed and drift off to sleep. When you wake up tomorrow morning, all your wishes will have come true."

Riley couldn't contain his wide grin.

* * *

Friday afternoon.

Driving home from work, Lieutenant Lana Stone's expression was a mask of gloom. Despite being less than five minutes from her destination, following a long and exhausting day of training, she couldn't help but wish that her objective was anywhere else. Exhaling noisily, she steered her black SUV onto a wide, leafy suburban street.

"Bitch, please! Did you just fucking sigh?" asked a raucous voice, issuing through the vehicle's hands-free phone system. "Like you've actually got a problem," it continued.

Normally, the sound of J. R.'s unsolicited counsel would've cheered Lana up, but lately she'd become an emotional wreck. "I'm fucking scared, J. R." she countered brusquely. "There, I said it. Are you happy?"

J. R. scoffed derisively. "A killer like you, scared?"

Lana sighed properly this time, then relented. "I made a promise to myself. That I'd never let anyone hurt me again."

J. R. scoffed again. "Please! Riley loves you. Period! And you should've been balls-deep in that ass months ago."

Lana's brow furrowed. "Do you think he really loves me?"

"Are you fucking kidding me!" exclaimed J. R. "That sexy sissy adores you, and whatever part of you those two cunt's stole, he's returned it ten-fold. The only thing stopping you from healing now, is you."

"Gods, I want you to be right."

"Listen to yourself. Riley's sexier than sissy-Princess Charlotte, he wants to spread his legs for you, and you don't think that's love?" She paused to reconsider her previous opinion. "Well, maybe not sexier than the princess, but easily just as sexy."

Lana pictured Riley in her mind. "You're right," she relented.

"Fuck yes, I'm right! Bu you know what? Now I don't want you to be with him. You don't deserve him."

Lana appeared shocked. "I don't deserve him?"

J. R. continued. "Nope. So go home, tell him it's not working out between you, and evict him. I'll be there in five minutes to snatch him on the rebound, and we'll be married by next week."

Lana laughed despite herself. "You're such a slut!"

"I know right! Isn't it awesome?"

Lana frowned again. "But what do I say to him?"

"Why don't you try the truth?" answered J. R.

Lana turned into her driveway, stopped the SUV and put it in park. She killed the ignition before speaking again. "Thanks J. R, I mean it."

"I love you too, boss."

"I didn't say I love you," retorted Lana.

"Doesn't matter, that's what I heard. Now stop stalling."

Hearing J. R. hang up, Lana grabbed her utility-belt from the passenger's seat and stepped out onto the driveway, slinging it over her shoulder as she did so. Locking the vehicle, she looked up at the porch and her front door with uncertainty. A wave of doubt washed through her. Please don't hurt me Riley, she thought.

Then remembering J. R.'s advice, she took a deep breath and began walking up the front steps.

* * *

Hearing Lana's SUV pull into the driveway, Riley moved quickly to stand within the house's entryway, teetering only slightly atop her six-inch heels. Facing the front door, she fidgeted with her slip-like dress, ensuring that it sat right, before feeling something furry rub up against her calf.

Looking down, she saw Lana's male cat, smooching his cheek against her ankle. "Dynamite! No!" she hissed. "I'm supposed to be looking sexy, not getting covered in your fluff." She carefully nudged him away with her foot. Affronted, the cat looked up and gave her an injured look before walking away, making sure he flashed her his bum.

Looking back at the door, Riley saw Lana's silhouette appear against the frosted window. Her heart raced like a hummingbird's as she heard the key slide into the lock and the handle turned. This is it, she thought, taking a deep breath.

Opening the door, Lana froze as her foot crossed the threshold, startled by the female figure she saw standing only a few feet away. A stranger. An intruder! Without thinking, she reached instinctively for her utility-belt and the peace-officer's baton hanging from it.

"It's okay!" exclaimed Riley, holding up her hands in reassurance. "Lana. It's me."

Recognizing something undeniably familiar about the woman, Lana did hesitate. Then her eyes grew wide as comprehension dawned. "Riley?" she asked, her disbelief unmistakable.

"Uh-huh," replied Riley, nodding her head. She took in Lana's stunned expression before continuing bashfully. "Do you like it?" she asked, clasping her hands behind her back and striking a carefully choreographed pose; carefully chosen to accentuate her fantastical metamorphosis.

Lana swallowed hard, trying to accept what her eyes beheld. It was Riley. But it wasn't. Gone was the androgynous sissy who sometimes got mistaken for a woman. In their place stood a fully-fledged dick-girl! One that looked like an elven princess, if elven princesses wore sheer mini dresses that barely concealed their porn-ready body. Lana felt red-blooded arousal begin to stir. "Is it really you?" she finally managed.

Riley chuckled, pleased by the reaction. "It is," she answered, reaching up and tugging at the midnight-purple hair braid draped over her shoulder.

Lana remained dumbfounded. "But... how?"

"Wicked Witches' Wishes."

Lana's eyes grew wider still. "When?"

"The process started a while ago, but my final appointment was yesterday," she answered, running her hands down her slender body and resting them on her hips. "Tah-dah!"

Lana blinked, comprehension finally dawning. "That's why you were locked in your room last night, and this morning?"

"Uh-huh," nodded Riley as the tall Futanari glanced down; clearly taking in the outline of her cock behind the semi-transparent material. She wasn't wearing any panties. Then taking a deep breath the newly minted dick-girl stepped forward, took a hold of her housemate's left hand, kissed the back of it with her luscious gloss-red lips and purred seductively. "Drop the belt," she said.

Lana did so, certain she was experiencing a waking-dream. Then she allowed herself to be led into the lounge room and pushed down gently onto the couch.

Riley wasted no time climbing atop Lana's lap and straddling the Futa's hips, her own legs spread wide, pushing the hem of her dress up and fully exposing her cock. Taking hold of both Lana's hands, she brought them up and placed them on her new breasts.

Lana's own heart pounded as she felt erect nipples pressing into her palms through thin fabric. "Did you do this for me?" she asked in amazement.

Riley rocked her hips playfully, enjoying the feel of Lana's erection under her ass. She smiled and leaned forward, touching their lips together and initiating a soft kiss. "I did this for us," she answered.

Lana shifted her hands from Riley's breasts to the dick-girl's narrow waist, which she could almost join her hands around, then down to her ass cheeks, squeezing the curvaceous muscles as the kissing continued. "But the witches? How... how did you afford it?"

Riley dismissed the question, gently licking her tongue along Lana's bottom lip. "Don't think about that right now," was her only answer. Then sitting back, she crossed her arms over her stomach, grabbed the hem of her dress and deftly lifted it up and over her shoulders and head.

Lana forgot all concerns as the meagre garment was tossed aside, leaving Riley totally naked except for her high heels. Leaning forward, she began alternately kissing the dick-girl's breasts and swirling her tongue around the perfect nipples.

Riley gasped, overwhelmed by the intense sensations her new body was generating, feeling her nipples harden further and becoming veritable singularities of pleasure. The pair remained that way for several minutes, before Riley gently pushed the Futa's head back. "Let's go to the bedroom," she suggested.

That was all Lana needed to hear. Crossing her arms under Riley's ass, she stood quickly, easily lifting the tiny dick-girl with her, who squealed with delight and wrapped her own limbs around the Futa in turn.

Soon after, the pair burst into the master bedroom, an intertwined panting tangle of grasping hands and kissing mouths, before continuing toward Lana's bed. Riley reached the mattress first, turning and taking a seat on the edge of the mattress. "Bring that here!" she demanded, pointing directly to Lana's crotch.

Lana acted quickly in response, unzipping her fly and releasing her erect cock.

"Fuck I love your cock!" exclaimed Riley, as she wrapped both her hands around the base of the thickly veined shaft and directed it straight at her face. Then leaning forward, she sucked the smooth round head into her mouth. For the next few minutes, she worshipped it as it deserved, alternating between taking as much as she could into her mouth, and running her tongue along the sides.

Looking down between her own large breasts, Lana watched in awe as Riley tongued her cock's pee-hole, greedily tasting and savoring her pre-cum. "You are so fucking beautiful," she said, holding the dick-girl's head gently. "You're going to make me cum too soon!"

Hearing Lana's entreaty, Riley stopped and looked up. "Take your clothes off."

Lana didn't need asking twice.

As Lana undressed, Riley turned and crawled into the center of the bed, giving the Futa an unobstructed view of her shapely new butt, as well as the semi-erect cock and balls hanging just below. Lowering her head, she rested her cheek on the cool sheets while keeping her ass pointing up in the air, then looked back over her shoulder at Lana. "Claim me," she urged.

Taking up position directly behind Riley, Lana spread the dick-girl's ass cheeks wide with her strong hands. Taking a moment to appreciate the view, she began inching her hips forward and touched the head of her rock-solid cock against Riley's soft pink anus. Bracing herself, she began pushing in slowly, moaning with long-denied pleasure.

Riley closed her eyes. "By the Gods!" she exclaimed, feeling herself stretched open, her mouth forming a silent 'O'.

Lana paused her effort. "Am I hurting you?" she asked, her concern genuine.

"No... don't stop," insisted Riley.

Proceeding carefully, Lana continued to slide in until her full girth had been accommodated.

Riley whimpered with pleasure.

Several moments later, the Futa was buried to the hilt of her shaft. "Are you still okay?" she asked again.

Eye's shut tight, Riley simply nodded into the sheets, her shallow breathing carefully controlled. This was it, she thought, she and Lana were finally one!

Placing her hands on either side of Riley's hips, Lana began moving back; withdrawing her thick cock until only the head remained concealed. She marveled at the thin band of stretched pink skin that squeezed the tip so tightly, barely able to believe that this was really happening. Then she pushed back in again.

Riley moaned as she was filled a second time. She grasped two handfuls of bedsheets and scrunched, her body pitching back and forward as Lana began a steady rhythm, the Futa's cock rubbing pleasurably over her deliciously tender prostate. Before she even realized what was happening, an orgasm flooded through her over-stimulated body, "I'm gonna cum!' she cried into the mattress.

Lana barely heard her lover, and certainly didn't stop. She was in heaven herself, her cock radiating wave after wave of pleasure through her body.

"Gods!" cried Riley, as jets of cum squirted from her cock, splattering between her knees.

Feeling Riley's body go limp beneath her, Lana withdrew her cock, grasped her lover's hips and effortlessly flipped the petite dick-girl onto her back. Pushing Riley's knees wide again, she assumed the missionary position atop her, lowered her hips and easily slipped back into her lover's gaping ass.

Riley moaned with abandon as the assault on her prostate resumed; her cock remaining hard despite her previous release.

Overcome with ardor, Lana leaned down and began kissing Riley passionately, their breasts pressing together as their tongues danced. "I love you," she said, her eyes locked with Riley's, no trace of reservation in her delivery.

"I love you too," responded Riley, her heart soaring.

Time faded into obscurity as the two souls became one.

Eventually, unsure how much time had passed, Riley felt her eyes roll back in her head involuntarily. "I'm going to cum again." she gasped.

Lana responded in turn, thrusting with genuine purpose now, on the edge of her own orgasm.

Riley wrapped her arms and legs around Lana, desperately trying to pull the Futa deeper. A moment later and a second shower of cum erupted from her cock, splashing up her stomach and across her breasts before her body went limp as if she'd just passed out.

Lana threw back her head and roared. "Oh fuck! Yes! Yes!" she cried, her own cock erupting within her lover's center, causing a backpressure of cum to ooze out around her shaft. It took serval moments for the Futa to stop pumping entirely, eventually coming to rest and leaning back on her haunches. "Babe, are you okay?" she asked, cradling Riley's cheek in her hand.

Riley's eyes eventually flickered open. "Did I just die?" she asked in a whisper.

Lana smiled with relief. "No, silly," she answered before shifting her hips. "Hold on, I'm going to pull out."

"Uh-huh," was all Riley could say, staring vacantly up at the ceiling.

As the tip of Lana's cock popped free, a thick river of cum followed in turn, pouring out from Riley's open ass and oozing down her crack to puddle on the sheets.

Feeling Lana collapse beside her, then manhandle her into a spooning position, Riley smiled when the Futa wrapped a strong arm around her, pulling her tight. As their fingers intertwined, she let out a long and truly satisfied sigh. "I'm finally yours," she said, unable to hide her joy.

Nestling tightly behind her lover, her own feelings of bliss mirroring Riley's, Lana smiled contentedly. "Do you promise?" she whispered.

"I do," answered Riley, before smiling mischievously at an unintended allusion. As her eyes closed, images of a lacey wedding dress drifted dreamily through her mind.