Amelia had never feared magic. She had always felt it to be a charlatans trick in nearly every case. The few magicians who could use it for true power were far too wrapped up in important business to bother with her. But Amelia had to admit the words she had heard just a bit ago were concerning her.
Amelia had engaged with what she believed to be one of the “charlatan” type magic-user claimants: an out-of-towner, old woman peddling potions in the street. This woman had offered a clearly fake love potion to Harry, the boy that Amelia fancied, for him to use on Charlotte, a cute blond stable-girl from the other side of town. Amelia had argued with the woman, trying to convince Harry that the potion was probably dangerous. It had black slime swilling at the bottom. The woman had not taken kindly to her protests.
“Ah, jealous, young one?” she’d sneered, “Perhaps I ought to be offering you the potion to use on kind little Harry here. Hee hee!”
Amelia had been so embarrassed that she had slapped the potion from the woman’s hand. She had felt bad about it immediately, but the witch’s words afterwards made her feel even worse.
“You little strumpet! I’ll show you!” she’d screamed, “I never let good magic go to waste.”
The woman knelt down, dipped her fingers into the liquid on the ground, and drew her fingers across her lips.
“I curse you, I curse you! What you love shall fear you, what you care not for shall come to you. A monster you shall be, like none other that has walked this earth, and you shall have the love only of those who have been enthralled by you.”
Both and Amelia and Harry had run at that point, the old woman cackling behind them. They fled to Harry’s family barn, where they climbed into the hayloft and hid behind the bales of hay. It was a childish choice for young adults to make, but both Amelia and Harry were shaking with fear. Something was just wrong about that woman.
“You don’t suppose she was a real witch do you, Amelia?” Harry said.
Of course not! She almost said it. But something about how the words made her feel gave her uncertainty. She was trying to think clearly, but her head seemed like it was buzzing.
“No…” Amelia said slowly, “No I think she was a poisoner. And you almost bought some!”
Harry shrugged, then smiled.
“Hey, you don’t know! She could have had something good!”
Amelia’s head throbbed once with pain, and her vision blurred momentarily, seeing double.
“Are you alright?” Harry asked her.
Amelia shook her head as a sudden spasm forced her backwards onto the hay. She arched her back, pushing her stomach towards the roof. She saw Harry, quintupled in her vision, slide over to her, cursing loudly. Her body was spasming against her will. She tried to cry out, but couldn’t find her voice.
“Your eyes, Amelia!”
Amelia tried to blink, but was perplexed to find that she couldn’t remember how to. It was as if the muscles to blink had simply disappeared. She was seeing more than double now, but the blurring was quickly disappearing as her vision became bitingly sharp. As Harry leaned closer, she could see her own reflection perfectly in his eyes. She saw, in pristine detail, an inky black cloud spread out from her iris and overtake her eyes, making them sheen and solid black.
Amelia screamed. As she did so, a horrible pain shot down her sides and across her forehead. She witnessed two long, black, banded tubes push from her forehead to bounce in front of her face. Harry reeled back in fear and disgust.
Flipping over onto her hands and knees, Amelia moaned as she felt a soothing, warm numbness move slowly up from her feet. As it reached her crotch, she was embarrassed to discover that it aroused her greatly, making her wet. She looked down, completely dizzied by the compound vision her eyes now brought to her. Horror mixed with her involuntary pleasure. Something had happened to her legs. Her skin was waxy, and colored yellow-and-black.
In her spasms, Amelia had not realized that her dress had ridden up to reveal her undergarmentless nethers. Until then. Embarrassment nearly overcame her horror. Harry was looking right at her. Right at her most private parts. And they were changing.
She watched in horror and arousal as yellow and black fuzz sprouted from the hard waxy shell her skin had become. The fuzz sprouted only around her crotch and thighs, and it appeared to be incredibly fine in texture. As Amelia whimpered and twitched from the changes, she realized that Harry’s gaze was turning her on even more. Somehow, being watched was bringing her more arousal. Why?!
Amelia’s womanhood only grew wetter. Her feminine liquid flowed many times stronger than it ever had before, soaking the fuzz on her thighs, far more sticky than it should have been.
Amelia forced herself to try and correct her dress, but as she did so, pain and pressure racked her sides. The ties of her top strained as something pushed outwards from her sides. She tried so hard to close her eyes, but her new, compound eyes never closed. She could only watch and gape idly as a set of black, chitinous arms tore her shirt apart and made contact with the ground, flailing wildly as her brain tried to grasp control of the entirely new body parts.
Amelia could see Harry, paralyzed with fear, frantically looking at the changes that overtook her. She tried to reach to him, to show him she was still there, but she fell over instead and flopped before him, screeching out as her bare breasts made contact with the floor. Her nipples, now hard and black, tapped on the wood of the loft floor, poking through the hay. She looked helplessly up at Harry.
And her body betrayed her to the curse once more. As Amelia opened her mouth to speak, the skin of her face changed like the rest of her body, forcing four blade-like mandibles out around her mouth and erasing her voice. Her tongue extended out into a chitinous tube, looking nothing like it had before. She retracted it immediately, returning her face to a more human-like, if somewhat alien, appearance. Her hair had become bright yellow and hung between the antennae that now grew longer from her forehead.
As Amelia struggled to stand, she was wracked with two more pains. Just above her backside, she felt a horrible squeezing as a large abdominal structure grew from seemingly nothing. Her organs changed, accommodating the new body segment. Amelia barely noticed the second pain that signaled wings lifting out from her back; her womanhood was changing once more. She felt a sharp, but pleasurable pinch. Looking down between her legs, she watched as her fuzzy vulva sealed shut, disappearing completely. For a moment, she simply stared in awe. Then she writhed as she felt her familiar womanhood open in an unfamiliar place -- the back of her abdomen. The pleasure she felt was unprecedented. She didn’t even notice that a sword-like stinger was growing from her body, so potent was the mixture of horror, embarrassment, and taboo pleasure.
Amelia rolled over, desperately needing to touch, to feel her body, to know it and the truth of her changes. She almost couldn’t control herself, so strong were the urges. She found new muscles that pulled her abdomen upwards, until her stinger bounced harmlessly off her forehead, between her antennae. She was staring directly at her pink womanhood, partially hidden between small plates of the chitinous shell her skin had become. She flexed new muscles once more, causing the plates to move aside and expose her genitalia. Her wings buzzed involuntarily as she quivered from the arousal.
Slowly, Amelia reached towards her exposed pink folds. Her arms were black chitin from the fingers up to her elbows. Like elegant black gloves… Her compound eyes brought a hundred copies of the sight before her to her mind. Hard, cold fingers making contact with soft, pink flesh.
The contact was electric. Instantly, her whole body shook. But that didn’t stop her fingers from pushing into her abdominal genitalia. Amelia pushed her fingers in and out twice, feeling the incredible pleasure overcome her mind. Her folds were glistening with lubricant, and even that had changed. It was thick, clear, golden…
Like honey, she thought.
Amelia plunged her fingers into herself again, twitching as her fingers massaged the soft flesh beneath her stinger. Her stinger… the concept amazed her. But why? She felt drunk from all the stimulation.
If it weren’t for her antennae suddenly coming alight with feeling, she would have noticed Harry escaping from the hayloft, face twisted in fear. Instead, she was pushed further into sexual oblivion as the black antennae on her head began taking in all kinds of sensory details. She tapped them against her abdomen, danced them across the folds of her womanhood, caressed them with her fingers. Then Amelia got control of her second pair of arms.
In an instant, Amelia’s brain seemed to click and then she was multitasking. Arms, legs, antennae, wings, mandibles, all moving separately with ease. Her secondary arms were smaller, simpler. Black, jointed, and strong with a small claw-like structure at the end. She used them to feel up her body, discovering new changes she hadn’t seen before.
The fuzz that coated her crotch and thighs had grown upwards towards her belly, and a second area of fuzz had spread from her armpits to the area above her breasts. Her breasts, now static in their perky shape, pushed out from beneath the fine fuzz. Her secondary arms played at her solid nipples, which she was happy to discover still granted her great pleasure.
Finally, Amelia felt the great buildup of orgasm. Her fingers were pounding in and out of her vulva, her antennae were rubbing against anything and everything in the vicinity, and her extra arms were feeling every new inch of her body. She had utterly forgotten herself and given in to the strangeness, the nakedness, and the arousal. She felt her abdomen tense as pleasure built to a head.
And then she came. Toppling sideways, her whole body twitched as her abdomen forcibly uncurled, straightening her whole body from its crescent, self-pleasuring position. Her antennae, mandibles, and appendages flailed wildly. Pleasure rippled and surged to every inch of her body, coursing and recoursing, echoing again and again.
Even as her mind cleared, the aftershock of orgasm didn’t end. Her abdomen twitched with each throb of pleasure as guilt, horror, and realization came upon her. She scrambled to her feet. Harry was, of course, gone. Gods…
Amelia had no voice to call out with, her body was warped, her clothes were destroyed, and she had just pleasured herself disgustingly in front of the man she loved. She crawled forward to the edge of the hayloft. She had to get out, to get away before other people saw her. Her secondary arms gripped the edge of the hayloft, pulling her forward. Cold night air played at her still-exposed folds. She shivered in disgust...and desire.
Amelia crawled down the ladder towards the barn floor, head-first, without even realizing it. Her new body didn’t seem to be disoriented at all by inversion. She snuck across the floor of the barn towards the back, accidentally tapping her stinger on the ladder as she turned. It sent a solid vibration right into her clit. She shuddered.
It was then that she heard voices behind her. She lunged forward, but she wasn’t fast enough.
“There…”
It was Harry’s voice. He sounded distant, monotone. When Amelia glanced over her shoulder she saw him, white as a ghost, shivering slightly as he pointed at her. Harry’s father and Charlotte, the stable girl, were there with him. Charlotte screamed, her voice breaking as fear shook her. Harry’s father was frozen, staring at Amelia’s bee-like form. Amelia didn’t know what to do. She desperately longed to call out to them, to show them she was still there. But she had no voice. All she could do was make a pleading motion with her hands.
Charlotte, strangely, was the first to step forward. She slowly walked over to where Amelia was cowering and pleading. Amelia fell backwards, withdrawing from Charlotte. There was a strange look in her eyes. A look that scared Amelia.
“It’s okay, Amelia…” Charlotte said, breathing heavily, “Let me touch you…”
Something was just wrong with her voice.
“Charlotte, what the hell are you doing?” Harry said, seeming to recover from his shock a little.
Charlotte knelt down in front of Amelia, brushing her blonde locks out of her face. Charlotte smiled a drunken smile at Amelia and reached to caress her face. She was leaning over Amelia’s abdomen, and Amelia began to experience a new sense. It was as if she could see Charlotte’s scent. And it was a beautiful scent.
Against Amelia’s will, her vulva revealed itself from the armored shell it hid in. With that, Charlotte’s pupils dilated and she went limp, bringing her face straight down into Amelia’s soft, wet vulva. Charlotte’s tongue lazily flicked over her folds as she moaned into Amelia’s sticky cunt.
Amelia couldn’t stop herself from enjoying the feeling, even though her mind screamed out for answers. Why? Why is she doing this? Oh godsss! Her tongue! Amelia found the image before her repulsive, yet the pleasure was beyond wonderful.
“Charlotte!” Harry screamed, dashing towards the girl.
He shoved her off of Amelia, and turned to Amelia with contempt in his eyes.
“Get away, you freak!”
Charlotte shook herself, slow and staggering, and tried to crawl back to Amelia. But Amelia flipped, brandishing her stinger without even trying. She cautiously backpedaled to the back of the barn, towards the door, towards safety. Charlotte stared after her dreamily, mouthing the air as if Amelia had never left her lips. Harry’s eyes were fire. He glowered at her, fists clenched. Somewhere deep inside of him, he must have known that Amelia had ruined Charlotte. Something instinctual must have clicked to tell him that Charlotte’s mind had drained away, that she would never love him or desire him, that she would be dreaming of licking Amelia’s enchanted folds forever.
Amelia kicked open the back door and ran into the fields. In a panic, she flitted her wings rapidly, lifting herself up off the ground and propelling herself haphazardly across the field. There was an instinctive pleasure that came from her flight. A slow, unconscious settling within her mind. This felt right, as wrong as it was. Arousal was already creeping back over her, wrapping her fears in warm glow.
As she escaped into the night, she could never have known the future that awaited her. The other “settlings” her mind would do. She would never love the women who were enthralled by her invisible pheromones, but she would need them, desire them, and her desires would be twisted by her needs. She would come to love sex, to dream of it constantly, to give in to it. Harry would hunt her, desire to slay her, and she would steal the women of his town in vengeance.
And all of it began with the burning desire that flared in her depths as she darted across the field. A desire to please herself again and not care at all about anyone back in the town. A desire to feel a tongue on her folds again.