Ye that doth seeke desire grant’d Recyte thee lynnes forre in company Be thy lyfe e’er more what want’d Perfectly shape’t to mayke heart happye
Ted had the cantrip memorized, and tonight was the first waxing crescent after the new moon; when only the thinnest sliver of a thumbnail would show, the start of a new lunar cycle’s first light. According to the spell he’d found, this was the time to make his move.
The dry spell he was in had become intolerable. All the usual “watering holes” were turning up nada; his pickup lines had been flawless but there weren’t any takers.
Meanwhile, his roommate was too reclusive for her own good. It’s true she didn’t have a lot to work with; if you looked up “plain” in the dictionary you’d see her picture. But all she did was stay in the smaller bedroom of the house and toil away at her Wacom, day and night. She never seemed to reach out for any human contact at all, let alone anything romantic. And for what? So she could churn out picture after cliche picture of pretty animal-eared girls wearing floofy clothing against a bunch of pastel flowery backgrounds? It was like that guy who only did pictures of snowy cabins or whatever. She made enough to cover her half of the rent, but she never really lived! He wondered if she’d ever put out in her life!
Well, he had found a way to solve both of their problems. According to the spellbook, this would change a person to be whatever was desired. And his desires were simple, if somewhat prurient. A sexy, smoking hot girl at home who was into casual lays but wouldn’t get clingy and possessive, so he was still free to go prowl for girls whenever he wanted. That way both of them could get plenty of action without her having to leave the house, or whatever. Point is, he was about to turn his hermit roommate into a juicy fallback, and everyone would be happy!
The plan had already been put into action. He’d snuck into her bedroom while she was taking a shower and had tampered with the outlet that powered her small TV. Now it wouldn’t power on, so she’d have to use the big TV in the living room to watch her stupid pony show or sickeningly saccharine schoolgirl animes. That would give him a chance to sneak up behind her, lay hands on her shoulders, and fire off the quatrain to make her into his dream girl.
If the magic actually worked, anyway.
“Hey, my TV isn’t working,” she said in her little-used voice. “Can I watch my shows in the living room?”
“Sure! It’s your house too, isn’t it?” he said, hoping his face didn’t betray his excitement.
She was huddled underneath a quilted comforter, sweatshirt and sweatpants hidden beneath its folded slopes, with only her glowing Wacom and pen-thingy jutting out, hands occasionally flicking to make and erase lines as she sketched whatever came to mind. Invariably, it was button-nosed girls with cat-like ears, giant eyes, and flowing locks wearing fluffy, frilly, frou-frou garb in various poses but always looking at the artist. Shades of pink, purple, and pastel were blobbed into a corner like paint on a real palette, and her slender fingers brought the drawing tool over to it frequently as she applied masks and layers and whatnot. He didn’t really know, all he knew was that he was grateful for the big musical number where all the candy-colored ponies on the screen were singing and making a racket that hid his footstepts. He approached her seated figure from behind.
She jumped against his hands as they clapped around her shoulders, pinning her in place. Her startled squeak was adorable.
“Ye that doth seek desire granted, recite thee lines four in company, be thy life ever more what wanted, perfectly shaped to make heart happy!” he said with gusto.
For a split-second, he thought she might be wrapped in an electric blanket that was shorting out through him as a sudden current passed into him from one hand and looped back into her from another. It was working! He nearly whooped in exaltation as the magical energies flowed between them, charging him with power! He felt it building up inside, and watched as his roommate started to change in his grasp! Her head was raising up, her shoulders spreading apart slightly… okay that was weird. And why was the back of the sofa suddenly digging into his chest, and why did his pecs ache so much when it did? And how tall was she going to get?
Something was going wrong. He released his grip, but the mystical power was still charging him. And he hurt.
His bones felt like someone was roasting them from the inside, his throat closing tighter, his face assaulted by stinging ants. He tried to cry out, but couldn’t. The world wobbled beneath him, walls and ceilings flying further away. Somehow he was shaken without moving his feet, balance shifting accompanied by a tremendous pain and pressure below his belly. His sides twinged and contracted, his arms and hands drawing into themselves like deflating balloons. Something tickled his forehead and heated the back of his neck, but he could barely notice from the tugging sensation at the sides of his head and the firy birth of new nerve endings on his ears, and chest. A chest that was billowing out below his shirt, swelling rudely and pulling flesh into itself, flushing his tortured brain with sensations that couldn’t be real. His knees knocked together from weird angles and he felt his weight being redistributed in nonsensical ways, as if gravity was no longer pulling him in familiar places.
Everything was so bright and loud that he nearly blanked out. He saw Katie rounding the sofa and darting toward him, somehow gigantic and towering. She reached out to steady him and a final spark flashed hot on contact, filling his clothes with a micro-scale tornado that animated them like solid flames. They shifted and burned themselves away and pulled tighter or loosened around his skin in a riot of motion before settling down and clinging to him weirdly. Something fluffy brushed against his cheek and shoulder as the alien influences vanished into the ether from whence they’d been summoned, leaving him alone and staring into the concerned face of Katie, which was far too high up. Other than her height, he couldn’t see any changes on her. No plump cock-sucking lips, no come-hither eyelids, no rosie blush of constant arousal, no platinum-blond hair, and her chest was as modest as ever while his… wasn’t…
“Ted?” she asked, regarding him as though he might explode at any second.
“It didn’t work?” he tried to say, but someone else must have said it. Someone with a beautiful, pixie-like voice. His eyes darted around, but the room was empty save for them and the glowing colors of her horse cartoon.
“Oh my gosh,” Katie whispered. “You’re her!”
“I”m who?” he asked, starting to feel panic bubbling up through his arteries.
“You’re my OC! You’re Silk Starsong!” she was looking him over like a car that had just been won on a game show. “Quick! Tell me your name!”
“Silk Starsong? UH, wait no- i-it’s…” who was that talking for him? “S-ilk? Star… song…” He tried to raise his hands, but they bumped into two heavy mounds on the way up, jolting his brain with complaints from the tender and highly-sensitized flesh. He brought them at last around the twin lumps and… his hands were not his hands. They were so tiny and cute and perfect.
“Oh my gosh, you are so smol!” Katie whispered in amazement.
“Smole?” he asked, with the dreadful realization that the strange voice was indeed coming from his own throat. Smole? Smoal? What was she talking about?
“You’re a tiny precious bean!” she cooed excitedly, cupping his cheeks with her hands, which although thin and skinny must now surely dwarf what he had to work with. Silk felt his cheeks turning into coals as Katie turned his tiny hands over in hers, ever so gently. For a moment, they were fully enveloped as she closed around them and squeezed with butterfly-like pressure, causing his heart to pound. He barely heard her suddenly ask, “Can I touch your ears?”
“Ears? Uh, why?” he asked, realizing that she was looking too high up to be talking about his ears.
Without waiting for an answer, she reached for the top of his head and he nearly had a heart attack when he felt something touching his ears, which twitched and folded at the contact. But her seeking fingers were not to be denied, and they slithered to the backs of his ears and gently started scratching, flooding him with a shiver of pleasantness that somewhat calmed him somehow.
“Now turn to your right a little bit?” Katie said, gesturing with her drawing hand in a circular motion.
Silk complied, twisting at her waist until she saw the thumbs up from her love. The loose material of her oversized top would, from this angle, show her some naked back and the plump rear curve of Silk’s generous breast, while her hips were cocked in a contrary direction.
“Perfect!” Katie squeed happily, focusing on sketching her model with the Wacom. Silk held her pose for a few minutes until she was given the all-clear by Katie, then hopped off the coffee table (with a heavy bounce around her backside and torso) and sidled up closely to watch her partner’s talent play out. Katie was giving form and life to some sketchy lines that had served to indicate Silk’s contours, her “rhythm” Katie called it, which was very much a squat hourglass accented by billowing locks in multiple colors and crowned by two sharp-looking ears decked with fluff. Katie paid loving attention to the backside. “Have I told you today that I just love your hips?” she asked.
“Yes, but feel free to keep going,” Silk replied with a giggle. They were, just barely, her most prominent feature and Katie’s enthusiasm for them gave Silk permission to enjoy that fact too. With her model’s encouragement, Katie leaned down and kissed her right between the ears, being rewarded with a tickling flick across her cheek for it.
Their days were full of affectionate bliss, playful flirting, and snuggling together when Silk wasn’t posing for Katie’s latest commission. It would have been difficult for either to believe such intimate and familiar happiness was possible if they bothered to remember their lives before the spell. But why dwell on the past when the present and future were so much more meaningful? They had found each other, and that’s what mattered. Silk no longer needed to work at anything other than making Katie happy, and Katie was making enough from her artwork, her smut commissions, and their livestreams to keep the lights on.
TolAndSmolAceworks was becoming a most-watched channel, full of loyal viewers and patrons, many of whom were asexual themselves and hadn’t known that loving relationships like theirs could be available to them. While gaming or making art, they were constantly being lauded as “Homoromantic Ace Icons” by their fans, which they took as expressions of grateful representation. Silk hadn’t known it originally, but Katie explained that even her hair streaks were a symbol of their non-standard relationship. Part of her character’s ‘design,’ the template she had unknowingly made for the transformation to build from.
Care, intimacy, joy, romance, it had everything they needed. When biology intruded with instinctual needs, they took care of themselves without needing the permission or involvement of the other so they could focus on the deeper aspects of their love. It was so freeing and right for them that traditional ideas about a relationship now felt like old fairy tales and foreign, abstract concepts. And even though they didn’t need to sexually gratify each other, Silk had no qualms about being Katie’s model for the kink and smut that formed a steady two thirds of their income, even lending her voice to the few animations with practiced pornographic gusto. It was more amusing than anything else to her, an attitude that would have seemed impossible just three years ago before her misguided use of the spell had turned her into Katie’s ideal partner rather than the other way around.
And as her ideal partner, when Silk leaned in harder on Katie and playfully tilted her away from the Wacom, they both knew it was time to take a break from working for a very important cuddle session. With conspiratorial chuckles, Katie relented and set her tablet on the table, pulling the quilted blanket around her compact but curvy little lover and laying back so they could relax, luxuriating in each other’s presence. For both of them, the most rewarding part of their lives had been opening up to each other, getting to know the other as a person rather than a co-habitant, and realizing how much they filled the gaps in each other’s lives so perfectly. Neither could imagine a more fulfilling relationship, despite what their few griefers posted in the comments. If they didn’t understand love without sex, that was their loss. For the both of them, though, what they’d found the night of the encantation was infinitely better.
Recyte thee lynnes forre in company
Be thy lyfe e’er more what want’d
Perfectly shape’t to mayke heart happye