Use as Directed

Written by Princess Kay

Commissioned by Charonshope

Content Warning: This story includes sluttification, and an unexpected (though not quite unwilling) transformation.

***

Miles stared at the bottle of pink liquid resting in his palm. His heart was pounding in his chest. He couldn't stay still, shifting his weight constantly, pressing his bare ass against the mattress. He was being ridiculous, and he knew it. Potions of femininity were harmless. They were only temporary, so long as you took them as directed, and even if you messed up you could always reverse the process with another potion. Not that he was going to let himself mess up, here.

Miles tore his gaze from the potion, focusing instead on the spoon that was perched on the edge of his nightstand. One teaspoon; no more, no less. That would transform him for an hour, with no side effects, at least according to the alchemist who'd sold it to him. She'd also talked about the side effects, at length, but Miles hadn't really listened. It didn't really matter, since Miles had no intention of taking more than one dose. There was no reason to since he was only doing this to satisfy his curiosity. He just wanted to know what it felt like, to be a woman. It was something he'd been wondering ever since he first heard of femininity potions, back when he was just a kid. He would have gotten one the moment he'd turned eighteen, but they were exorbitantly expensive. Even the one in his hand had been pretty costly, and it had been heavily discounted.

According to the alchemist who made it, it was something she'd been experimenting with. She was apparently still working out the kinks, so Miles was supposed to call the shop and give a report on the transformation the next day. Or within the next hour, if anything really bad happened. 

...That was a little concerning, but she'd promised that nothing permanent would happen. He'd looked up reviews of her store, Molly's Concoctions, and while there were a couple of complaints about her customer service, everyone agreed that Molly's potions were top quality. He had nothing to worry about, even with an experimental potion, so long as he kept to one dose. Even two would be fine - it would add another hour to the duration, and there might be some additional side effects, but everything would still be temporary. If he took more than that, though... Actually, Miles wasn't really sure what would happen. More side effects, most likely, and it would probably last longer, too. Molly had gone on at length about the various possible outcomes, but he'd mostly tuned her out since he really didn't plan on taking more than one dose.

He was a lot more worried about the transformation. Or, more accurately, he was anxious about how he'd feel after the transformation, though. He didn't know much about dysphoria, but he knew it was unpleasant, and the thought of experiencing it for himself was scary. He already felt uncomfortable in his own skin, like he was being forced to wear an ill-fitting suit; he didn't want it to get worse.

Then again, Miles wasn't sure it could get worse. Some part of him even thought it would make things better, though he knew that was nothing more than a delusion. He'd felt this way since puberty, after all, and he knew full well that it wasn't ever going to get better. Even in a world of magic potions, the only real cure for mental issues was expensive therapy.

Still, he couldn't help the flicker of hope that beat in his chest when he looked at the potion. How would a woman's body feel? There was no way it could be worse. The feminine form was so beautiful, so wonderful, so right. Maybe it really would feel more natural than his current body?

As ridiculous as that thought was, Miles didn't think he'd be able to give it up until he'd tested it out. And now, after all these years, he could finally slake his curiosity with just a teaspoon of pink liquid. There was nothing stopping him, now. So why wasn't he uncorking the bottle? Why was he delaying? He should have been excited, so why was he struggling to take the final step? 

Maybe his fear was a sign. Maybe he shouldn't do this at all. But then his curiosity would never disappear. Not to mention what a waste of money it would be. Even heavily discounted, buying this potion had taken a good chunk of his paycheck. Molly's Concoctions didn't take refunds, and it was illegal to sell potions without a license, so there was no way to recoup his losses at this point. At least if he drank the potion, he'd be getting something out of it. So he should take the potion, right? Just to see what being a girl felt like.

Not giving himself another chance to second guess himself, Miles snatched the spoon off the nightstand and pulled the cork free of its bottle, and measured out a dose. Not trusting himself to lift the spoon to his lips without spilling it, he lowered his mouth to the utensil, instead, and sucked the potion off of it.

The potion was warm and sweet against his tongue, and it went down smooth. It was more viscous than he'd realized, like a thick syrup, and it brought with it a gentle heat as it traveled down his throat, and into the center of his being. From there the warmth radiated outward, slowly suffusing his entire being.

Miles hastily moved to put the remaining portion, and the spoon, back onto the stand, before settling back down on the bed. He took another deep breath, trying to mentally prepare himself, as the warmth reached his extremities, suffusing his entire body, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes.

He felt his throat constrict, a prickling sensation spreading through it, akin to pins and needles dancing across his skin. Such sensations would usually be uncomfortable, to say the least, but it somehow felt pleasant. He vaguely remembered something about transformation potions, a half-forgotten kernel of knowledge from his schooldays. A dramatic transformation should, by all rights, be painful, but alchemists had discovered a way to trick the brain into confusing any pain signals from the alterations for pleasure.

The tingling migrated down Miles' neck, moving toward his center, following the same path as the preceding warmth. Before it could reach his hands, Miles curled fingers about his throat, wanting to get a feel for it without any other sensations interfering. His skin was smooth beneath his fingers, and his adam's apple had disappeared. 

"Hello?" Miles whispered the word, lacking the courage to go louder. He wanted to know if his voice had changed, but he was terrified that it might not have. He'd always hated his baritone voice, and imagined it would be even worse if he had to deal with a jarring mismatch between his voice and feminine form.

Thankfully, it seemed his worry was unfounded. His voice sounded breathier, gentler, and had a higher pitch. Miles couldn't be sure how much had changed from just a whisper, though, so he cautiously repeated the word in a louder voice. Then again, even louder.

"Hello!" he cried out, at the top of his lungs. His new voice had a musical quality to it. He was so happy that it had changed. In fact, he was happy in general, in fact, more so than he'd been in years. Miles wondered if his new voice would sound as good to others as it did to him. He'd have to record it after the transformation was complete so that he could hear how it sounded to an outsider.

Distracted by his cheer, Miles barely paid attention to the heat that had spread through his being. He didn't notice that it was growing in intensity, not until the gentle warmth had changed into a blazing flame, an inferno so hot it could melt the flesh from one's bones. But, again, the torturous flames that should have been wracking Miles body were translated into pleasure, every bit as intense as the pain would have been. 

Miles fell back against the bed, his body singing with delight, his eyes rolling back into his head as his body went into spasms from pure ecstasy. His form began to compact. He lost more than a foot in height, then regained some of it as his legs lengthened, becoming long and slender, shapely enough to attract stares of desire and envy from those he passed.

His stomach flattened. It wasn't as if he'd been overweight, just a little chubby, but what fat there had been was now shifting toward his hips and ass, adding curves where there had been none. 

Miles' rear, which had always been so tragically flat, became a plump bubble butt. He would always have a cushion, now, no matter where he sat. His hips, meanwhile, widened, not only from the shifted fat but due to a change in his very bones, which creaked and protested as they were forced to take a new shape, creating child birthing hips and sending waves of pleasure through his being in the process.

His waist felt like it was being squeezed by an ever-tightening vice, the flesh caving inward to further accentuate Miles' new curves. It felt so good. His body hair disappeared, each hair dissolving to nothing as if it had been dipped into a vat of acid. His blonde hair grew out, the golden tresses becoming longer with each passing second until they began to cascade off the bed, reaching the floor. If Miles stood his hair would surely descend down to his ass. It felt wonderful. It felt right, in a way that Miles could not even begin to understand, let alone explain. 

He pushed himself up a little so that he could look at his chest, his eyes filled with expectation for what would happen next. A moment later, two little bumps appeared beneath his nipples. Unlike his other curves, the fat for these didn't seem to be migrating from other parts of his body. His breasts were being grown from scratch, and as such were just a little slower in their development, and brought with them more heat and pleasure than any other part of his transformation so far. It felt like a firestorm was contained within each tit, one that grew hotter and fiercer with each passing second, bringing more and more pleasure as the breasts began to grow.

Miles' body arched, his head slamming back against the pillow as he thrust his chest out. It was a struggle to keep his eyes open, to continue watching despite the deluge of pleasure that threatened to sweep his consciousness away, but he managed it, wanting to observe the entire process. He watched as his tits grew, changing from little bumps, to tiny hills, still small enough to cover with his palms, before growing into mountains, so large his hands would barely be able to cup them. His fingers moved instinctively, gripping hold of the massive mammaries. The sensation of fingers against sensitive nipples, of resilient flesh pushing back against him as he squeezed, was completely new to Miles, unlike anything he'd ever felt before. But it felt good. Even better than the flames.

Miles felt the bones of his face shifting about, his eyes burning, his cheekbones moving a little up, his lips becoming just a touch plumper, his eyelashes growing out. He smiled with full lips as his face finished its feminization. The transformation was almost complete.

He sat upright, staring down at his crotch, as best he could with his newly protruding chest. As if it had simply been waiting for him to pay attention, his member began to harden, and then shiver. Instead of the fire that had flown throughout his body, this part of the transformation felt more akin to lightning suddenly striking his flesh. It burned, it tingled, and it caused his flesh to twitch. It should have hurt, of course, it didn't. It felt better than he would have thought possible, in fact. His earlier ecstasy paled in comparison to this. 

Miles' dick began to shrink, his balls pulling on themselves. Something opened within his crotch, a sudden division in the flesh. His sack flowed into it, the excess skin being repurposed into folds, while the testicles themselves were driven into his body. He could feel them in his center, expanding and growing into a uterus. He could feel his womb coming into existence, even as his dick shrank to the size of a bean.

Miles hesitated for a moment, then reached down between his legs. His fingers gently brushed against his clit, and another spark of electricity ran through him. He gently teased it with the flat of his thumb, then slipped a finger inside his new opening. He was wet, his channel slick enough that his finger had no issues getting inside, to feel out the inner wall.

The potion had worked. He - no she - had gained a feminine form. A woman's body. Except, she knew it wasn't actually a woman's body, because it belonged to her, and she wasn't a woman. She knew that. She shouldn't have even been using feminine pronouns, but they felt... Right, in this form. Right in a way they never could have, when she'd looked like Miles. Miles... That didn't sound right, either. Perhaps she should pick a new name for the duration of this transformation?

She was thinking on it, weighing and feeling out various monickers, when the heat within her started to fade, leaving her somehow cold. Without the pleasure to distract her, she was suddenly aware of her new body, and how strangely fitting it felt.

Was this the effect of the potion? It had to be. There was no way Miles could feel this comfortable in a feminine form without it. At least, she didn't think so. It made no sense. What would that even mean?

She needed a distraction. She needed to feel good before her brain went down a path that it shouldn't. She considered touching herself some more, but she wasn't sure that was a good idea. Having a finger inside her pussy had felt "right," too, which was even more confusing. How could she distract herself from this? If only the pleasure could come back...

She eyed the remaining potion, still sitting on her nightstand. She knew it was a bad idea, but her hand had already gripped the bottle and was bringing it directly to her lips. Just a little more. Just one more sip. Another dose wouldn't hurt. Or maybe a little more than that.

When she put the bottle back down, she was surprised to discover that half of it was missing. Fear struck her, as she realized what she'd done. It didn't last long, however, as a new fire reignited in her mouth, traveling down her throat and into her center. She assumed it would flow throughout her body, from there, but it betrayed her expectations, as a single ember of intense heat flowed up from her stomach, burning intensely within her throat, then moving past it to light a fire within her brain.

She clutched her head, not understanding why the potion was affecting her so differently. Her confusion didn't last long, though; it was burned away by an explosion of heat within her skull, as a wildfire tore through her mind. She screamed, falling back down on the bed. It felt like she was being ripped apart and stitched together again. It felt like it would never end, like her entire being would be burned away, and it felt good. Yet all too soon it began to dwindle until at last, it was extinguished.

Miles... No. That name felt wrong. Erin laid upon the bed, panting heavily, wondering what had just happened. It felt like something had changed within her, but she wasn't sure what. It scared her, a little. She wondered if taking more of the potion had been a mistake. She didn't have long to think upon it, though.

The fire in her belly had yet to disappear. She'd forgotten it, as the pleasure it brought paled in comparison to the sensation of those flames burning away at her mind, but now the fire was drawing her attention back to it, moving downward, traveling in a straight line toward her crotch. Her new clit throbbed, her pussy crying out for something, anything, to enter inside it.

Erin's hand immediately moved toward her sex, slipping down her thighs, before pausing, just barely short of her entrance. This... This pleasure wasn't natural. She'd read up on femininity potions before, and while they did feel good, they weren't supposed to feel like this. Molly had called it experimental. Was this one of the side effects Erin hadn't listened to? What would happen if she gave in and touched herself?

She tried to recall what the alchemist had said, replaying the half-listened conversation through her head, but it was useless. Not only was she unable to recall it, but she found herself getting distracted even as she tried her hardest to remember. Instead of Molly's words, she found herself picturing the alchemist herself. Her crimson red hair, her piercing green eyes, the way her lips pulled into a slight frown every time she'd accused Erin of not paying enough attention. Her gentle voice, which conveyed irritation, but never quite matched the annoyance in her eyes, even as she grew more and more frustrated with Erin's distractability. The delicate hands, and soft fingers, that had briefly touched Erin's wrist when Moly had handed off the potion. 

Why hadn't Erin noticed her beauty before? Why hadn't she asked Molly out? Why - why had she never been interested in anyone that way before? Regardless of gender, and form, she'd never wanted to date anyone... Or maybe that wasn't quite true. She'd never wanted to sleep with anyone, and she'd always worried about the expectations dating would bring. The thought of penetrating someone had seemed disgusting to her. But now, the thought of being penetrated, of having fingers inside her, or even having a dildo plunged within her being, was so enticing. Which would Molly prefer, if she was there? What would Molly do to her, if she could see the customer who annoyed her helpless on the bed before her? A thin finger or a thick dildo... or maybe she'd give Erin the "tongue lashing" she deserved, for not paying enough attention.

Erin moaned as a finger pushed its way inside her, bringing relief to the heat that raged within her, shrinking the flames while also building upon the pleasure. Her pussy squeezed down upon her didgit. Erin didn't even remember moving her hand, and yet she knew that it hadn't been done by any outside force. She'd done this, she'd wanted this, so badly that she'd acted on impulse, without a single conscious thought.

Even as Erin dwelled on this, she couldn't bring herself to stop. Her finger continued to delve into her pussy, rubbing against the walls as it searched for something, a piece of her anatomy that she instinctively knew would bring her untold pleasure. Her thumb gently brushed against her clit, lightly teasing it, sending waves of pleasure crashing through her being. The flames within her were getting smaller, and smaller, and yet the wonderful sensations were only growing more intense. 

She was close to... Something. Erin didn't know what. It should have been obvious, but she was no longer capable of complex thought. She simply knew, intuitively, that something important was coming up. Something wonderful. To that end, she pushed her finger deeper inside, carefully feeling out her vagina, double and triple-checking every inch of it, ensuring nothing was missed. It wasn't necessary, strictly speaking. Whatever was coming would happen regardless, so long as she continued playing with her clit. It was just that it would feel so much better if she found whatever she was looking for.

Her thumb flicked against her clit, again, bringing her even closer. A second finger teased against her folds and then slipped inside her pussy, forcing her hole to spread even wider so that it could slide inside. It joined the first digit in searching her interior. Gently rubbing her clit brought her even closer to the edge, to the end of this. A tiny part of her, a speck of rationality that hadn't yet been washed away, thought that it would be best for her to stop, to wait until she found what she was looking for. Erin didn't listen to it. How could she possibly stop when it felt this good?