Miss Adelaide's Apothecary

I rise with the sun. Light filters through the half-closed blinds, strong enough to wake me but weak enough for it to be a gradual rise in consciousness.

I rub my eyes, then stretch my arms up and out. The bed-sheet slips down the bare skin of my torso as I sit up.

After blinking a few times to get the residual sleep out of my eyes, I notice there's foggy outlines of footprints all over the hardwood of the bedroom. The previous evening comes back to me.

I had spent the better part of two hours splashing around in the swamp to find a fire-bellied newt - one of the stock ingredients for Miss Adelaide's potion library. I was able to catch one, but it was well into the night by the time I deposited the salamander into its new artificial habitat in the storeroom. I was barely able to peel off my damp clothes before collapsing into bed.

Oh, well. At least I was able to find the damn newt in the end.

A thicket of trees wave good morning from my window. I get out of bed naked, as per usual. I walk around my room to prepare for the day with the blinds open to the green expanse outside. I figure with the apothecary's distance from the city, another person seeing me is unlikely.

I recall stories I was told as a child, cautionary tales of witches and hermits who reject civilization and run naked through the forest. Wild people ready at a moment's notice to eat or fight or fuck.

The stories were meant to scare us, I think, but they made me feel envious more than anything else. The people they talked about sounded free on a level I couldn't imagine.

After gathering everything I need for my morning tasks, I get dressed. Unfortunately, I have to put my exhibitionist endeavors on pause for a while. I doubt it would be fun trying to feed the chickens while naked.

Before heading outside to feed the animals and tend to the garden, I check the purifying wards on the household waterskin so there's clean water when Adelaide wakes up. She usually rises a couple of hours after I do, so I can bring more from the well if I need to replenish.

In the kitchen, I locate the jug the waterskin is stored in and inspect the outside. The sigils are intact, but the strength is beginning to fade. I crumble a nugget of soapstone to retouch the edges.

I used to not pay much attention to replenishing sigils before working for Miss Adelaide. Most magical institutions like the one I attended prior to my apprenticeship here don't consider that to be 'important' work.

They typically think that until they run out of clean water, anyway.

I came into Miss Adelaide's service close to three months ago. We met in a tavern a friend had referred me to, an avant-garde sort of dance club. Honestly, I was about to leave before Adelaide approached me. I felt hopelessly out of place. The club catered to more... experimental clientele.

Most patrons there were humanoids with hardcore body modifications, from full-body tattoos to plants growing from their skin. Elvish features were as common as orcish. There were even a few goblins with cropped tails that bounced around to the music.

The venue itself was even more intimidating. Magical orbs suspended from the ceiling were the main light source, projecting low red light into the room. The only seating was at the bar or at two small tables that seemed to be perpetually occupied. Mushrooms of various sizes lined the walls, producing synthesized music from their caps.

Adelaide explained to me later that night that the tavern is operated by a powerful druid who specializes in fungi. Apparently, this druid believes that mushrooms can connect to humanoids through their various electrical impulses, which she was able to translate into sound.

To me, it just sounded like loud thumping.

I had traveled to the city for the purpose of visiting that club, hoping to purchase one of those types of potions rarely sold in the open. And now, I was considering leaving after less than an hour there.

The process was much easier in my mind. I figured I would see someone consuming something I recognized and be able to strike up a conversation. I ran into two issues with this plan: the 'recognizing' part, and the 'conversation' part.

I was asking the bartender for my second beer when Adelaide sat down next to me. I remember our first conversation well. It went like this:

She turns in my direction and snorts. "No offense, but you look lost."

"Uh, yeah, I guess I kind of am." I say, surprised that someone was speaking to me. "Sorry, I'm not from around here."

She makes a point of looking me up and down. "I can tell." Her hand extends. "I'm Adelaide."

"River." I shake Adelaide's hand. Her grip is firm.

"Nice to meet you," She says. "I run an apothecary shop on the outskirts of town. Potions, enchanted items, and the like. What do you do, River?"

I open my mouth to answer her, but she interrupts. "Wait, don't tell me. You're into magic too, right? Maybe a student at that academy a few miles out?"

I laugh nervously. "You sure know a lot about me."

"Divination spell. For example..." Her voice is soft and low, leaning in to speak over the mycelium beats. "I also know you're bad at remembering to take your student ID badge off." She punctuates the end of the sentence by poking my chest.

My laughter loses its nervous edge and gains an embarrassed one. "Ah, shit, I've had that on for the whole time, huh. I was wondering why people were giving me looks."

We drink and talk some more about ourselves. Adelaide recommends a pink beer that fizzles on my tongue long after I've drunk it all. I tell her I used to be a cook. She tells me she used to harvest organs from adventurers killed in combat. I'm still not sure if that was a joke.

I complain about the wizarding academy. The higher-ups have a narrow view of how to properly practice magic, and they don't take kindly to deviations from their definition. Coupled with the unexpected religious overtones and gender-exclusionary practices, it's more like living in a monastery.

Adelaide asks why I decided to attend the school in the first place, if it's so miserable. I tell her it's not like I had a choice; they're the only academy in the area that accepts non-nobles.

That's when she offers me a job.

"You know, I've been thinking about taking on an apprentice for a while. Business has been good. Would you be interested?" she asks over our third beer together.

My head whirls, and not just from the alcohol. "I mean, I'm flattered, but am I not a little too... old for an apprenticeship?"

Adelaide laughs and claps me on the shoulder. "I'm looking for someone who already knows their way around a cauldron. I'll teach you some, of course, but it's nice to start with a foundation." She winks. "Plus, I don't have the patience to deal with a teenager. What do you say?"

A reasonable alternative to the academy, room and board included. I would've been insane to not take it. "Yeah. Yes. That sounds like a great plan, actually."

"Wonderful. Do you want to dance?"

The rest of that night is a blur. I do remember waking up the next day nursing a wicked hangover, packing my things, and finding a ride out into the woods.

My morning chores pass quickly as I reminisce about how I came to be here. Before I know it, I've finished all the work that needs to be done outside.

I head back into our shared house. Adelaide is awake and brewing herself a cup of tea at the kitchen counter.

Her hair is loosely pulled back into a bun, wisps of gray escaping at the temples. She waves as I enter the room. "Good morning, pet. I trust that your morning tasks have gone well?"

Her morning attire is elegant, as usual. A low-cut chenille robe adds plushness to an otherwise form-fitting silky ensemble of nightgown and socks. I want to wrap my arms around her and bury my face in the fabric.

I say, "Good morning, Miss Adelaide. Yes, I haven't run into any issues so far."

"Good. Were you able to get a fire-bellied friend for my stock?"

"Yes, ma'am. It's already in the terrarium."

She sets her tea down in the living room and claps her hands together. "Wonderful. You've been able to get a lot done this week."

I nod, feeling my cheeks flush slightly with her praise. "Thank you."

"In fact, you've done so well, I'll let you kneel on my robe instead of the floor today." This is in reference to my last morning task: washing and anointing Adelaide's hands in preparation for the day's spellcasting.

I nod my head and begin gathering the relevant materials.

Adelaide takes a seat in her usual chair. She sips at her tea as she waits for me to finish getting ready. The chair is made of sturdy red oakwood, furnished with pillows to support her back. I've grown accustomed to sitting at its feet.

I place the warm water on the footstool, setting the smaller vials of anointing oils to the side for now. A smaller bowl is dipped into the water, then poured over Adelaide's outstretched hand.

The bergamot-scented bar of soap I usually use for this ritual is growing smaller. I make a mental note to myself that I need to buy more the next time I go to the city.

Halfway through the handwashing, Adelaide moves forward to the edge of her seat, adjusting the pillow behind her. I adjust my position accordingly, opening my legs to allow more space for hers to dangle between them.

Adelaide's foot travels up my inner thigh and plants itself between my legs. It's not a harsh pressure, but firm enough to send a jolt of electricity up my spine.

When I first began this apprenticeship, I don't think either of us expected for sex to be part of it. Well, I haven't heard any complaints from Adelaide. As for me, I enjoy attending to all of my Mistress' needs.

I'm sure my arousal would be more visible, if it weren't for the fact I'm currently outfitted with a cunt.

Adelaide's specialization in transformative magic was one of the first things I learned about her. In fact, I was in search of one of her potions that night at the mushroom bar, though I didn't know it at the time. The friend who had referred me to the tavern had learned that it was one of Adelaide's frequent spots to pick up new clients.

Adelaide lowers her heel, incrementally increasing the pressure on my small clit-cock.

My current body has a few deviations from the traditional vulva; Adelaide altered her usual formula on my request. instead of my testes becoming ovaries, they became entirely absent, and my dick wasn't fully reduced to a clit but instead suspended in a balance between.

In moments like this, it makes me feel like I'm a fucktoy. Something to be penetrated and stroked and teased. Covered in and filled with cum without any worry about cleanup.

I want to squirm up against Adelaide's sock-clad foot, to rut up and get more friction. But I know I can't, not until I've finished my morning tasks.

The reminder that my body isn't fully my own doesn't help my frustration. My first experimentation with intensive body transformation under Miss Adelaide's care was similar, though with a sexual outcome quite different from my current predicament.

I was testing one of the first for-sale potions I helped to prepare. Miss Adelaide asked if I would be comfortable trying it, of course. She said she usually liked to test the first potion of a batch herself as quality assurance, but that it would be easier to have an assistant do it.

The potion promised nullification - removal of erogenous zones.

The transformation was quicker than I expected. As soon as I swallowed the last dregs of liquid, a warmth spread through my chest out to my extremities. It was fuzzy, almost like being submerged in a pool of static.

Adelaide gave me some privacy as I adjusted to my new body. Told me she'd check back in after a few minutes alone.

I started out by touching my face - same as it always felt. Nothing new for either arm. Getting to my torso, the sensations began to differ. My chest was more numb. No nipples, either, just a blank expanse of skin. Smooth.

Between my legs was not completely smooth; a small nub protruded from my body. My urethral opening was the only thing left of my genitals.

This nub was a purely functional appendage, I soon learned. Fascination struck me as I slid my fingers across it - I might as well have been rubbing my knee.

At the end of the 24 hour trial period, Miss Adelaide asked me how I felt about the spell. I told her I rather enjoy not having to worry about a whole body system, and agreed to the full week.

During the next couple of days, I found myself enjoying the feeling of a less-responsive body. I was not as burdened by chafing, or painful bumps into furniture, or accidental stimulation. It was a wonder, getting to temporarily live as a more sexless self.

Towards the end of the week, this wonder turned to frustration as I realized I could still get horny, I just couldn't get off.

Rutting my nullified crotch up against a surface or my hand was suggestive, and I found the psychological effects of the movement were enough to stir arousal. However, it reminded me too much of the pleasure I was being deprived of.

Late into the night, I yearned for my nerve endings to reroute themselves. Logically, I knew they wouldn't do that without at least 2 hours of magical labor.

Fuck, I wanted to come. I briefly flirted with the idea of making a pact with a minor daemon or express-lane god.

I eventually found a bit of relief by fingering my ass. Despite not having a prostate to stimulate, the meditative in-and-out stimulation soothed my anorgasmia frustrations.

I fondly remember opening myself up, running a finger along those still-sensitive-but-not-quite-there nerve endings. Knowing what it usually feels like, but appreciating the experience of just touching my body.

Remembering what it was like to be nullified and frustrated has helped me calm down, funnily enough. I'm able to ignore Adelaide's leg between my thighs and focus on her hand in mine. I massage the last anointing oils into her skin.

"I've finished, Miss Adelaide." I look up at her for direction on what to do next.

"Good, good." She uncrosses her legs and my eyes go wide. The outline of her stiffening cock is unmistakable.

"Come on, love. You know what to do."

Her nightgown has a slit in the side that travels up the entirety of her thigh. I tentatively run a hand up her leg and part the fabric of her dress, moving it up and to the side.

Adelaide's girlcock lies nestled between her ample thighs. It's larger than usual. I swallow. She obviously prepared for this.

I lick a stripe from the base of my palm to the tips of my fingers, then stick two fingers in my mouth. My middle and pointer finger thrust slowly in and out of my mouth as I coat them with saliva. I want to get my hand wet, and put on a show while I'm at it.

Pulling my spit-covered fingers out of my mouth, I press a sloppy kiss to Adelaide's inner thigh and wrap my slick hand around her dick.

I watch the hypnotic up and down as I work Adelaide's erection to full hardness. The head of her cock peeks out from her foreskin, a flushed dusty red.

I glance up at Adelaide through my eyelashes. "Mistress, should I suck you off?"

She exhales. "Yes, but go slow for now. I don't want to come, not yet."

I nuzzle my lips against the base of her girldick, breathing in the scent of her musk. The deep earthiness of her arousal mixes with the perfumed smells of her anointed hands and lotioned body. I stroke her with my hand as I flatten my tongue against her glans.

She moans softly when I take her into my mouth. Swirling my tongue, I guide her deeper into my throat.

If I'm being honest, I had no experience giving blowjobs before I started working for Adelaide. The few lovers that I've had in the past either didn't have the equipment necessary, or we occupied ourselves with other activities. I'm still far from great, but Adelaide has been a patient teacher.

I try to hollow my cheeks and fit more of her cock in my mouth, but I gag. Sputtering, I replace my mouth with my hand and try to take a couple deep breaths.

"Easy." Adelaide runs her hand through my hair, her nails lightly scratching against my scalp.

I continue stroking her with one hand as I massage her balls. A bead of precum forms at her slit and I take her back into my mouth, savoring the salty slickness.

The width of her shaft parts my swollen lips and her cock hits the back of my throat. I gag again.

Adelaide pulls me back by my hair. She ensures I make eye contact, and then says, "Calm down, honey. You don't need to choke yourself. Just focus on making me feel good."

I blink up at her. "Yes, ma'am. Sorry, ma'am."

I try to make up for my sensitive gag reflex with enthusiasm, wrapping my hand around the base of her girlcock and peppering the head with wet kisses.

My tongue dips into her slit. She's still leaking precum, to my delight. I'm glad I'm able to please Adelaide despite not being able to deepthroat quite yet.

My hair gets pulled once again. Dazed, I look up at Miss Adelaide.

"Give me some space to turn around, pet. I want you to eat me out before I fuck you." she says.

Adelaide strips off her nightgown and kneels on the chair, legs spread. Even in this position, she manages to have an air of authority.

"Well? Spread my ass and get to work."

No further prompting is needed. I cup her ass in my hands and drag my tongue over her hole. I feel Adelaide twitch as I continue to lick around, circling her entrance.

"Fuck, that's good." She purrs, arching her back.

I feel my blood buzz in my ears with the praise. "Thank you, ma'am." I keep lapping at her. The tip of my tongue prods past her rim and she groans.

I'm surrounded by plushness; her ass, her thighs, her robe pooled around my knees. Her hole is warm and tight around me. I gently press the pads of my thumbs into the inner curve of her ass to open her up more.

"Ah, I could get lost in the feeling of your tongue inside me, if I'm not careful." Adelaide straightens up, pulling away. I sit back on my heels as she turns around. "Good boy. You've done well. I want to reward you."

She beckons me to stand. I comply, getting to my feet, then picking up her robe and draping it over her chair.

Miss Adelaide leads me into the kitchen. "Bottoms off."

I take off my breeches. They're folded and placed on the edge of the kitchen table.

"Lie down on your back." Smooth wood pulls slightly at my sweat-sticky skin as I hop up onto the kitchen table. I lean back. The table is at about hip height for Adelaide, so she's able to slot herself between my thighs.

She unfastens the top of my tunic, exposing my chest. She brushes her hand over the dusting of hair there. I wonder if she'll request me to remove it at some point.

Long strands of hair have escaped from her bun; they tickle against my skin as she leans over me. Her lips find their way across my throat. Teeth nip at my neck and I groan.

"Tell me what you want." she says.

I reach down and part the lips of my cunt, showing Adelaide the wetness that gathers there.

"Please, ma'am. You made me like this. Please show me how to use this body properly."

She slides her cock between my thighs, rubbing my own smaller cock with the head.

"You want me to come in you."

It wasn't a question. It didn't need to be. I am here to serve my superior; my own enjoyment is just a bonus. I part my legs even further and wordlessly try to guide her cock into me.

"Oh, you forgot how to speak?" She frots up against me, teasing my clit.

"Gods." I shudder. "Just fuck me, already."

Adelaide pointedly ignores my slip out of subservience. She slaps her cock against my cunt, then lines up with my entrance.

"I've been wanting to fuck you on the kitchen table for a while."