SteelDonuts: An OC sock journal (
steeldonuts) wrote2018-10-08 05:30 pm
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Always label your merchandice, kids. [NSFW]
In a quiet corner of this particular town's red light district exists a small, rather unassuming shop. In contrast to the loud, gaudy signs and lights of the other establishments on the street, the only thing that marks this building is a quaint hanging wooden sign that reads "Consentacles" accompanied by some purple and black tentacles holding bottles of varying liquids. The inside of the shop is just as unassuming, nothing but rows and rows of potions broken up by what look to be toys and the occasional rack of clothing for sale. It's all softly lit with a pleasant smell of incense.
It isn't until one starts to inspect some of the merchandise that the true nature of the shop is revealed: growth potions, shrinking elixirs, draughts for stamina, animal ears, mermaid tails, you name it. Every sort of fetish one might have that could be realized with some magic drink is there, all neatly labeled and organized with a short description of how it works. It may be a sex shop, but the owner has standards.
Speaking of which, the one responsible for the store can be found near the back behind a counter. A tall, shapely woman with a pale complexion and long, messy dark hair, just one pointed hat short of your stereotypical witch. She seems to be busy with brewing a batch of potions, judging by the large, bubbling cauldron and the open bottles on the counter filled with something or other, presumably waiting to be labeled and put on the shelf.
There's a lot of bottles on that counter, though. Probably more than should be there. Oh well.
It isn't until one starts to inspect some of the merchandise that the true nature of the shop is revealed: growth potions, shrinking elixirs, draughts for stamina, animal ears, mermaid tails, you name it. Every sort of fetish one might have that could be realized with some magic drink is there, all neatly labeled and organized with a short description of how it works. It may be a sex shop, but the owner has standards.
Speaking of which, the one responsible for the store can be found near the back behind a counter. A tall, shapely woman with a pale complexion and long, messy dark hair, just one pointed hat short of your stereotypical witch. She seems to be busy with brewing a batch of potions, judging by the large, bubbling cauldron and the open bottles on the counter filled with something or other, presumably waiting to be labeled and put on the shelf.
There's a lot of bottles on that counter, though. Probably more than should be there. Oh well.
no subject
"You'll know once you notice it," is all Wren decides to say, leaning on her elbows back over on the counter. This is why she lets people have a taste first- their inevitable surprise is payment enough.
no subject
She turns to Wren, about to make a surprised exclamation about it working, when she sees that the counter is definitely higher this time. And she has to tilt her head back more to look up at the tall woman.
"Wha-?!" She frantically looks down, and back up, and the counter is up to her chin. She feels her formerly tight shorts start to slip down on her hips, and realizes what's happening. Her chest isn't getting any smaller, proportionally, but she is.
Panicked, she looks up to the woman now easily twice her size. It's getting hard to see her over the counter, and Terry has to grab on to the edge and get up on her tiptoes. Right now, she only has one concern.
"Hey! Wh-When does it-..." She yelps and grasps on to the edge of the counter as her shoes slip off, and her feet no longer touch the ground, "... stop?!"
Her shorts are around her ankles now, with her panties starting to slip down to join them. There's not much keeping her top and jacket on, either. Fortunately for her now much smaller head, her hat has already fallen to the floor too.
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"You seem surprised. You did want to get smaller, yes?" Wren reaches over to help the shrinking girl up onto the counter. It wouldn't be nice to just leave her there, tiny and in the middle of a place where people walk. In doing so, however, she more or less pulls Terry into her chest.
"The effects vary from person to person, but with a full bottle, I'd say you'll stop somewhere around six inches to a foot? It's hard to tell. Some people get really tiny, while others don't as much, or shrink unevenly." Her tone of voice makes that last part sound more like a pleasant surprise than a side effect. After all, some people are into that, and she herself is into, well, just about everything.
"I still haven't figured out how to shrink clothes, though. You might want to start wrapping yourself up before everything falls off the counter~"
no subject
She's blushing pretty hard when she finally scoots herself back from being pressed up against Wren's chest. "S-... Six inches?!"
She's so distracted by this reveal, she doesn't think to say that this isn't the kind of smaller she wanted to be. It's all happening so fast!
Belatedly, it registers what the woman said about not being able to shrink clothes. She gasps as she feels what little clothing she still has with her slipping away, making a desperate grab to hold on to at least the bra. But she just barely misses it falling away, leaving her both shrunken and completely naked. Once she's only a few inches tall, she finally seems to stop shrinking.
Well, most of her has shrunk pretty dramatically. Moving her arms to cover herself, she realizes... her chest is actually bigger?! "Eh?!" She checks herself out from various angles, forgetting her modesty long enough to use her hands to run over her body. She's smaller overall, but her curves have actually grown a bit more pronounced.
"H-How long does this last?!" She looks up to Wren and that blush on her cheeks flares up again. Here she is, small enough to be standing on the countertop and looking up at someone who's a giantess from her perspective. The memory of being pressed up against those now-giant breasts doesn't help her be any less flustered over this.