A Magical Mishap

It was now a constant fight for Robin to not masturbate at the perverse display before her. Her pale hands yanked at the front of her shirt as she did her best not to slip them under the short top. She just couldn't believe anyone could be so big! While she had no idea what size the futa's appendage started at, her closest guess being maybe a foot long if she had to hazard a guess, it looked to be almost twice that, and it was still growing! Not only that, but it had fattened significantly as well, and the goth witch wouldn't be surprised if it was thicker than her bicep! She understood now why Gabrielle started out by stepping away from the coffee table.

As she watched it, her eyes almost bulged as a long rope of cum formed at Gabrielle's enormous tip. It spilled out, hanging loosely as it lowered towards the ground. The strand looked like it would never end, the thick string dropping till it hovered only inches above the ground. Shaking back and forth in time with the futa's double-handed strokes, it dangled precariously, unbreaking but bending and twisting under the force of her ministrations. Then, her cock flexed and bounced upward, snapping the foot and a half long cord of virility from her cum slit, letting it land in a pile on the floor, where it coiled on itself before seeping into the carpet.

Robin gasped.

"D-Did you just cum!?"

Gabrielle opened her eyes and looked at the mess.

"Uh no, sorry," the futa grunted, still furiously running her hands up and down her now-fully-hard pole, "that's just my precum. There's usually a lot."

Almost as if on cue, her urethra gaped, the tunnel leading underneath it engorging obscenely, before a fat ooze of cum belched out, slopping onto the front of the coffee table. This was just a precursor of what was to come, as now her completely-unsheathed glans began to pour its potency in earnest. It alternated between releasing gouts of sticky seed, dollops that looked big enough to fill a mouth, and randomly jetted ropes that splattered over everything in its firing range; luckily, Gabrielle was standing just far enough away so that none made it into the water-filled pot - none so far.

Robin wasn't sure what she'd gotten herself into.

Everything she was seeing was just... insane. The goth was no blushing virgin, but this was like nothing she had ever experienced, and she was just watching! She had heard futanari were more endowed than the average person by a large margin, but Gabrielle was at least three or four times bigger than any lover she'd ever had before; even her soft-size would eclipse their members! And her 'precum' as she claimed it was, looked potent enough to impregnate the entire state. The goth's knees began to rub together at just the thought of that anaconda touching her... and fucking her... and cumming inside of her...

Having not closed her eyes after viewing the mess she had started to make, Gabrielle was now actively watching the witch. She seemed entranced by her cock, her eyes never leaving the throbbing meat. The curly-haired barista could see the goth blush, the color very apparent on her cheeks, adding a pink hue to her ghostly visage. Her thighs were pushed together as well, and Gabrielle even thought she could see a hint of her erect nipples pushing through her shirt. The futa wasn't well-versed in other people's arousal, but the signs were clear: jerking herself off was turning on her host.

Gabrielle moaned loudly.

Waddling, she moved forward until her cockhead was hovering above the bubbling cauldron. The tendrils of steam lapped at the underside of her shaft, tickling her bunched foreskin. Her blood-engorged monster was already burning hot, so the heat coming from below barely fazed the well-hung futa. Gabrielle could feel her balls begin to vibrate and shake around in her sack, the brewing load within them nearly complete. Her trained ears could hear a light gurgling come from below her, signaling her coming climax; her shaft expanded another inch, pushing it out even further beyond her fists, which had become woefully inadequate at covering her extensive length.

Biceps straining, she put everything she had into forcing an orgasm from her cum factories. She was jerking herself off as swiftly as she could, her hands flying up and down her shaft, nearly sliding off her slick crown with each stroke. Veins swelled grotesquely under her digits, like they were trying to loosen the strangle-hold she had on her awe-inspiring appendage. Gabrielle began to hump into her hands, her hips pistoning erratically. Those giant globes between her legs swung up with every thrust, coming close to bashing into the underside of her serpent. Her breathing grew heavier as she closed her eyes and threw back her head.

It was time!

"H-Here it comes!" she managed to blurt out to Robin's surprise. She attempted to point her cock down towards the top of the cauldron, but she wasn't swift enough. The first salvo of semen rocketed from her tip, blasting over the iron-pot, past the couch and onto the wall behind it, leaving a slimy trail in its wake. A large splatter of pearly white goo was left where it impacted, covering the band poster it landed on, dripping slowly towards the floor. Her next shot went high as well, but this time it arced lower and slapped into a cushion on the couch, streaming onto it for several seconds, creating a thick puddle and soaking several of the books lying around it.

"Sorry!" Gabrielle squealed, reaching out and placing a hand over her tip. She gripped it like she would a baseball, her glans pressed into her palm. Cum seeped around her fingers, covering her already pre-stained hand even more, painting her skin white. With each shot, rivulets slid into the cauldron, dregs of it trickling into the now-pearly liquid. Each pump of her progeny bounced her cock up and down, sending drops of cum flying onto everything around her; even when she did her best to contain her load it still made a huge mess, something she very well knew would happen. Once her cock started going there was no stopping it, and all the futa could do was ride out her intense orgasm.

What. The. Fuck!?

Her mind was damn near literally blown by what she was witnessing. Robin thought that the amount of precum Gabrielle had ejaculated was ridiculous, but this was something else! The first shot alone, that was currently staining her walls, couch, and carpet, looked like it was enough to fill her completely! And she just kept going! Even from where she was standing, the goth girl could see that her little cauldron was almost completely filled, and most of the futa's cum was on her hands and the table around it; Robin was pretty sure she even saw a walnut-sized dollop extinguish one of her candles!

It didn't stop. The futa's balls, which were already humongous by any measure of the word, bloated with her climax, growing until it looked like a pair of melons were nestled between her thighs. They jostled around in their container, lifting slightly with each new shot, but never quite making it up to her groin, like their weight was immense enough to keep them from rising fully. Stretching across her otherwise-smooth sack, veins and arteries pulsed angrily, like just the act of cumming was a Herculean effort for them to go through.

Still, they didn't stop.

Robin wasn't sure how normal orgasms were measured, but Gabrielle's could only be quantified in gallons. Her cock kept bucking, kept drenching her hands, kept spraying onto everything around her without pause. The futa moaned through the entire thing as well, her eyes glazed over as pleasure racked her body. Hips still thrusting like she was trying to fuck a hole in her palm, occasional blasts would geyser from between her fingers, adding more layers of slime onto the couch. Nothing that the witch had left lying around was spared.

After minutes, an insane thought in itself, it seemed she was reaching the end. Her cock throbbed with less intensity and her balls bouncing came to a halt. As her the last vestiges of her cum leaked out of her gaping urethra, Gabrielle removed her hand from her glans and rubbed it down her shaft, smearing more of her seed across its length; this simple act, however, caused her snake to spit out several more foot-long strands of semen that hit the carpet between the couch and the table. She placed a semen-frosted hand to her chest and sucked in a deep breath, before her lips twisted into a goofy smile.

"I-sorry for the- wow. That was... Do you have a towel?" she babbled out, like she was unsure of what to say first. Turning her head, she stared at Robin with a dazed expression, still grinning like an idiot. The goth looked up at her, down to her cock, down to the futa's mess, and then back up at her. Nodding, she stumbled forward, shaking and swaying like she was drunk. Wandering around the back of the couch, she paused before taking a big step forward; Gabrielle blushed, realizing she was probably trying not to walk in her cum. Eventually she bent over, giving Gabrielle a flash of a black pair of underwear she was wearing, and rummaged through something the futa couldn't see.

Robin tossed a towel at her.

"Sorry for the mess," Gabrielle panted as she wiped down her still-hard pole, "I didn't - it's not usually that much. Not at the end of the day, anyway."

"It's... fine," Robin finally spoke, her words uneven, "it is what I paid for you, even if it's a lot more than I needed."

Gabrielle chuckled nervously.

"Sorry," she apologized again, "I thought you knew."

"Well I do now!"

This time the pair both laughed.

"So, can I uh, sit for a minute? It's gonna take a little bit before I can fit in my pants again."

Robin's eyes bulged as Gabrielle motioned towards her cock, which hadn't lost any of its rigidity.

"Y-yeah, just grab a chair behind you."

"Thank you!" The futa pulled up one of the seats and put it down a couple feet from where she'd been standing. Sitting in it, she draped the towel over her cock like it was a drying rack, her member sticking straight out from her crotch. She finally was able to take a moment to witness the results of her sexual storm: the couch was now split in the middle by a cascade of her white goo, the table and everything on it was almost completely covered by sticky ropes, and the floor around it was dotted by large puddles of her excess. That wasn't even mentioning the cauldron, which was overflowing with her bubbling cum!

She had really made a mess!

Robin's moving form drew her attention away from the erotic disaster she'd been the cause of. Another towel in her hand, the witch leaned over the table and did her best to wipe off its contents. Bags, books, the candles - one by one she rubbed them with the cloth, cleaning them to the best of her ability. Every item that was cleaned she set to the side, the witch making sure not to accidentally set it in more cum. It didn't take her too long to finish, and she ended the chore by wiping off her own hands before tossing the towel to the side. She studied her setup.

"I can help you clean up after you're done!" Gabrielle blurted, feeling worse by the second as she watched her host struggle with the aftermath of her load, "or I, I know the number for a company that can come and clean everything."

"I might take you up on that." she didn't take her eyes off the cauldron.

"And, uh, I'd like to watch this if you don't mind. I've never seen real magic before."

"Sure," Robin finally turned and smiled at her, "besides, you're the reason this is going to work."

"So how does this work, exactly?"

"Well," Robin opened a bag and dumped its contents into the pot, the cum inside having boiled down a little bit while she was cleaning, "I put the other ingredients in, and then when it changes color, I say some words into it and then drink it. The effects should kick in after that."

"I guessed it was something like that," more herbs were added to the cum-centered potion, bringing the mixture rising towards the rim once more, "but like... how does it know? How does it know how to change you? Does it like, affect everyone the same, or...?"

"Not quite." the goth grabbed a long wooden spoon from the table and began to stir, "It works off your subconscious, basically. So, the things you want to change about yourself the most, like having bigger boobs or better skin, for example, is what the spell focuses on. The potion works as a kind of catalyst to make your desires actually happen."

"I see..."

"That's why I needed your, uh, semen. The recipe calls for the ejaculate of a man, but I did some research and it looks like no one has ever tried it with a futanari."

She paused.

"Probably due to how new your sex is. So, it works off the 'life force', in a sense, of the sperm. From what I've read, the changes the potion brings aren't that pronounced, but can be heightened by having more ejaculate in it. But it seems like even with a large amount, at least by the standards of a normal man, it doesn't change you that much. Like if you wanted a really big butt, it would only get you part of the way there, and it can't really be done more than once - at least not for the same body part."

"I see..." Gabrielle repeated, contemplating the explanation, "and you think my sperm is going to uh, enhance the effects?"

"Pretty much. I'd read before that futanari were incredibly virile, much more so than men. I guess I can confirm that now!" she stopped and raised an eyebrow at Gabrielle, "But I'm thinking that more virility equals more life force. In theory, that should mean this beauty potion is going to be very strong, especially with how much you added to it."

"So what part of yourself do you want to change? At least enough to go through all this trouble?"

Robin frowned for a moment, her eyes looking towards the ground.

"You'll see."

She emptied the last baggie into the cauldron and gave it a final couple of stirs, the swirling concoction turning a murky pink.

"Perfect. Now I need complete silence. It's time to say the actual spell."

Leaning forward, Gabrielle watched intently as Robin hunched over the coffee table. Her face hovering over the frothing liquid, steam wetting her visage, she began to whisper. The futa turned her head slightly, trying to catch the words the witch was saying, but quickly realized they were in a different language. Most of it was totally gibberish to her ears, but one word, 'pulchra' seemed to be repeated constantly. Robin's lips moved faster and faster, and even from her position several feet away, Gabrielle could see the contents of the cauldron begin to glow.

Then Robin stopped.

The entire room went silent, and Gabrielle had to do her best to resist asking if the goth was okay. This distress she felt was furthered by the sight of Robin's eyes rolling back in their sockets until only the whites showed. Her mouth shot open so wide her lower jaw almost touched her neck, a wisp of red smoke spilling out from her gaping maw. The tendril was immediately sucked into the swirling brew until it had been completely consumed by the pink concoction, which glowed brightly. Robin gasped, her body jerking upward before her features returned to normal.

"Ugh, that part is always the worst!" she complained, ignoring Gabrielle's visible horror. Reaching out, she turned off the burner that had been so dutifully keeping the cauldron hot, and grabbed another towel she had set out. Wrapping it around the sides of the small pot, she lifted it to her face with both hands, her nose twitching at the musky smell. She brought it to her lips and paused, her eyes closing.

"Here goes nothing..."

Tilting her head back, she dumped the brew into her mouth. Her throat worked actively to swallow its thick contents, each gulp audible. Halfway through she started moaning as well, her cheeks turning a rosy color. It took her almost a minute to chug the entire thing, finishing with a loud exhale. Gripping the rim with one cloth-covered hand, she wiped her mouth with the back of her other and looked down at the now-empty container. She licked her lips. Robin waited for a moment, still staring into the bottom of the personal-sized cauldron.

"I don't think it worked," she muttered glumly, before turning to Gabrielle, "but you know, you taste pretty go-"

Her words were cut off by a strangled gasp.

Dropping the towel and now potion-less container, which clattered against the table, her hands flew to her chest. Clawing at her throat, she began to choke, her brown eyes spinning wildly in their sockets. Stumbling backwards, she almost tripped on the side of the couch, barely catching herself on its arm. She clenched her fists and screamed into the air, her entire body now shaking violently. Gabrielle's own body went rigid, and she found herself unable to move from her seat, frozen in terror. Was this still part of the spell!?

Robin went slack. She was standing but swaying, like a light breeze was enough to knock her over, her arms limp at her sides. Her head lolled back and forth randomly, her hair covering her face like a makeshift curtain, blocking Gabrielle's view of her features; but it didn't block her ability to hear the girl. She suddenly started moaning, loudly, and the futa could see something else happen as her vocals reached a crescendo - something happening beneath her clothes.

Her shirt suddenly looked tighter, like it was being stretched by some unknown force. The area around her chest, specifically, seemed to be where this change was focused. Robin's top was being pushed outward, something tenting it from under the black garment. Farther and farther it extended from her body, the material slowly becoming sheer. While this was going on, the goth's hands rose and began to pull at the neckline, yanking it around like she was trying to make room for whatever was emerging beneath it. A loud tearing sound revealed to Gabrielle exactly what was causing this wardrobe malfunction.

It was her breasts. The futa's eyes went wide as she watched two pale mounds of flesh rise from the top of Robin's shirt towards her chin. She could see the witch's black bra through the stretched material now, struggling to contain the woman's growing tits as they spread out against her torso. When Gabrielle was masturbating, she thought she might've been able to see her host's nipples poke out through her shirt, but now there was no doubt about it. She was doubly surprised to see the shape of Robin's barbell nipple piercings nearly rip through her bra, and it was clear the hard nubs they were sticking out of were growing as well.

This magic-induced growth didn't stop. Gabrielle could hear the sound of threads snapping the more the now-inadequate top was deformed around the witch's enlarging bust. The bottom of the belly-shirt rose up her midrift, forming around the fatty hills like it was making one last attempt to be useful; but it wasn't enough. More tearing, more ripping, more absolute destruction of the shirt occurred until it began to fall in tatters around her. The futa's eyes bulged as more of Robin's creamy skin came into view, the now comically-too-small black bra all that was keeping her from being completely topless.

Even her once-supportive undergarment, however, came under duress. An even louder snapping sound filled the room as it popped off her chest and flung across the room, landing in a heap against the far wall. The straps that tried so hard to hold onto her shoulders broke apart in turn, the clasps and bands joining the same outcome as the woman's shirt. Now free of any obstruction, the goth thrust her chest out and sunk her thin fingers into whatever part of her still-growing tits she could, not able to cover even a fraction of the newly-created mammaries.