Sympathetic Magic - Chapter 1 - Part 2

Chapter 1 - Part 2

Tamsin frowned as she entered her shop and stood for a moment, listening carefully. There was no noise coming from upstairs, from the large set of apartments that she lived in (once with her dying mother, then by herself for about ten glorious years and now with the half-sister that had taken over her mother's old rooms without even so much as a by-your-leave).

However, there was a soft, shifting sound from the direction of Tamsin's private labs. She hurriedly went through the doorway that led downstairs, snapping her fingers to quickly set every single one of the candles and sconces ablaze, shifting the room from the weak twilight gloom filtering through the high, narrow windows, to a bright wash of warm yellow light. The energy it took to do that was like a kick to her chest, but she breathed deeply for a few moments and regained some of her balance.

She gazed in horror at the cabinet that Melantha had been so inquisitive over this morning; one of the small doors was standing open. The glass wasn't broken, she noticed as she walked over, setting down her carrying-box. The key was still around her neck, how the hell did--

A small moan caught her attention and Tamsin went on tiptoe to peer over the high table that stood between her and the cabinet. On the other side, sprawled on the floor, she could just make out Melantha's frame, still clad in the long, heavy grey uniform that the school insisted on. Her booted feet were twitching slightly.

Tamsin rushed around, kneeling and grabbing Melantha's shoulders. The girl moaned and moved weakly, a light blue froth bubbling at her lips.

"Idiot!" Tamsin looked around, closing her eyes briefly at the sight of three vials lying almost innocently on the floor. "Oh, shit."

She leapt up and raced over to a shelf on the other side of the room, fingers hovering over the bottles. Tamsin seized a tall one , almost filled to the brim with a thin red liquid, ignoring the clatter of the other bottles as they fell.

As soon as she returned to Melantha, she wrestled the heavy girl into a half-sitting position and pulled open her bottom lip, forcing the liquid down her throat. It was a general antidote, excellent at cancelling out the temporary effects of most other potions... but the blue one had been specially made to physically alter the human body. An overdose could mean a permanent change.

"Tam... sin?" Melantha groaned when the last of the red potion slid down her throat. "Ow... hurts..."

"You fucking idiot!" Tamsin cursed, tossing away the tall bottle and pressing her hand to Melantha's forehead. "Why did you do something so stupid?!"

"...because... I could?" Melantha was actually giggling a little.

Tamsin wanted to choke her to death. Stupid, stupid girl.

"Ow. Ow, hurts."

"Where," Tamsin asked flatly, even though she had a very good idea of where. "Where hurts?"

"My crotch." Melantha wriggled and gasped. "Hurts. Burns."

Gritting her teeth, Tamsin adjusted her so that her back was resting against Tamsin's chest, and began to pull up the coarse material of Melantha's uniform. It was a shapeless, long dress, with full sleeves and a wide collar. The ultra-conservative school was the only one of high quality for miles around. It was really a pity they had failed to drum any common sense into the girl in the month since she had been there.

A solid lump was formed at the juncture of Melantha's legs; she hissed as Tamsin continued to drag the uniform up over it.

"Sorry, sorry," Tamsin muttered, not that sorry at all. The black boots, with shiny gold buckles, went up to the middle of Melantha's long, pale legs. Tamsin was sure that those weren't school issue. When Tamsin had gone to that school, all shoes were to be no more than ankle-height.

Her sister was a rebel, obviously. A stupid rebel.

Tamsin rolled the school-dress up to Melantha's waist and sighed in displeasure; not at the fairly sensible white panties that she had on, but at the angry red head of an enlarged, aroused clit that was peeking from underneath the waistband of the underwear.

Melantha's hand went to it immediately, clutching it. "Hurts," she moaned weakly even as her hips began to thrust; she probably wasn't even aware of what she was doing. "Tam... Tamsin, help."

"It wouldn't be like this if you weren't so fucking nosy," Tamsin snarled, but she reached out and brushed Melantha's hand away. Unceremoniously, she dragged down the panties, which were quite damp to the touch. For a moment, Tamsin could only stare.

Melantha's enlarged clit looked very much like a regular dick; the shaft was long and smooth. but the head wasn't as bulbous. Of course, there were no balls; Tamsin could still see her vaginal slit. The coarse black pubic hair was shorn low, and she could clearly make out the glistening pout of fat wet lips.

"Hang on." Tamsin wrapped her hand around the engorged flesh and stroked it slowly. Melantha clutched her arm tightly, crying out in mingled pain and relief. The cock, for that was what Tamsin decided to call it in her mind, was nicely thick and warm, the skin smooth against her palm. It throbbed against her fingers and Tamsin bit her lip, feeling her own pussy twitch and become damp in anticipation.

That's not going to happen, though, she told her body fiercely. So just calm down.

Melantha was writhed helplessly, turning her face to press against Tamsin's neck, a trembling moan riding every tortured breath. When Tamsin pulled back her hand to lick her palm, a mewling sound of complaint issued from the girl before Tamsin put her hand back, jerking at her dick quickly.

"Oh, oh," Melantha groaned breathlessly, over and over against Tamsin's neck and she thrashed and bucked. Tamsin wrapped her free hand around her chest, held her firmly and carried on.

Melantha clapped one of her hands over her own mouth, yelling wordlessly against her palm as her body went rigid for a long heartbeat; the cock in Tamsin's hand trembled and then began to soften.

Tamsin pressed her head against Melantha's shoulder, breathing deeply to control her own arousal. She had to do it, she reasoned. It must have been painful for Melantha to be in that state.

"Melantha, get up," she finally said, tiredly.

Melantha answered with a long snore.

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Even though she was years younger, Melantha was taller and more solidly-built than Tamsin. That being said, it was a fucking pain for Tamsin to drag her upstairs and into her bed. She stripped Melantha of her clothes and went into the bathroom for a damp cloth to wipe at Melantha's inner thighs, which were wet with what looked like quite a lot of clear ejaculate. From her cunt? Tamsin wondered, wiping clinically. Melantha groaned and rolled over on her side, the dick flopping loosely to rest on her thigh.

Tamsin covered her with the sheet and went downstairs to clean up.

In a few hours, when Tamsin had sat down at the desk in her bedroom with a large book of potions, trying to find a proper counteractive, she heard Melantha moving around. Tamsin breathed heavily, and went to face the music.

Melantha was in her bathroom when Tamsin entered the room, so she sat down at a nearby armchair and waited. The paintings of Tamsin's mother and their father were still hung over the massive canopy bed. The curtains of the bed were wide open; Melantha seemed not to like them pulled closed.

Tamsin was considering the arrogant dark stare of her father when the bathroom door opened and Melantha, dressed in a tattered blue nightgown, staggered out.

She froze when she saw Tamsin, and a red flush stole up her neck and over her face.

"How do you feel?" Tamsin tried to sound calm, but from the quick flash of mingled fear and defiance in Melantha's eyes, she might have not been as calm as she thought.

"Fine." Melantha padded over to her bed and slid in, pulling the covers up to her chin.

"Fine? Really? That's wonderful. Now, maybe you can tell me why the fuck you took that potion."

Infuriatingly, Melantha shrugged and leaned back against her pillows.

"That's really not a good answer," Tamsin told her tightly.

"I don't know why I did it," Melantha muttered in a sullen tone. "I just wanted... to see--"

"Well, now you've seen. And you took so much!"

Melantha scowled. "Nothing happened at first! I picked the lock--"

"Great work, Dad," Tamsin loudly told the painting of her father, "you've raised a fine larcenist, here."

"--and I drank one and nothing happened," the girl finished.

"So you took another. And another." Tamsin pressed her fingers to her temples. "Don't you know anything about potions?"

"No." Melantha picked at a stray string on her blankets. "Not everyone is the brilliant potioneer that didn't even make the time to save her own father, you know."

"Please don't go there," Tamsin warned, but that little comment hurt. A lot. She tried to blink away tears and won after a short struggle. "Just don't. That's not the point right now."

"What is it, then," Melantha said tonelessly, frowning at everything and nothing in particular at the same time.

"A potion like that takes a relatively long time to show any effects, because it has to go through the bloodstream," Tamsin explained. "Most of the ones I make are topical ones. You rub them on and you get an immediate result. This one, it's pretty powerful. It has to be taken in small doses... or the results might be permanent."

Melantha's eyes snapped to hers in shock. "You... you don't have something to change me back?"

"If I did," Tamsin said impatiently, "do you think I would have locked it away with a key? A key, Melantha! There must have been a reason for it!"

"I can't be stuck this way!" Melantha shrieked at her. "What kind of potion-person are you, if you don't have an antidote!"

"I'm the kind of potioneer who LOCKS AWAY the dangerous stuff!" Tamsin rose to her feet, incensed. "If you're stupid enough to go drinking things you don't know anything about, it serves you right!"

She was so angry, that when she marched to the door, it wrenched itself open, moved by her high-strung will. It slammed behind her and her own door flew open under her unmindful command.

After all that door-slamming was over, Tamsin could hear the sound of wretched weeping coming from Melantha's room.

She refused to go back and comfort her.

Continued in Chapter 1 - Part 3

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