Stolen Alchemy

Peter and Catherine were both struggling to properly process their situation. Yesterday when Peter had stolen a small bottle of mysterious liquid from his employers alchemy lab, he had thought it was just residue from the alchemist making some kind of health elixir. He had stolen it with the hope that even with reduced potency it might be able to save Catherine, as she had been so appallingly ill he had been afraid she might die. Catherine had drunk about a third of the stolen liquid and it had certainly healed her, but it had also done a lot more than that. Catherine claimed that her eyesight was now perfect, and after drinking the thick red liquid her libido had skyrocketed - resulting in some incredible sex for both of them. Catherine's breasts had also grown. Where once she had been just a step away from flat-chested, she now had a pert pair of round tits that her dress (which had previously fit perfectly) was struggling to contain. The most worrying change however was her newfound strength.

"Peter, we really need to find out more about that potion. I mean, I have definitely enjoyed the side-effects and I feel OK, but I don't want to hurt you or anything." said Catherine.

Peter took a moment to answer, considering his options. "Yeah...but I can't just ask Alexei about it directly. He'll think I stole something from him. Which...I guess is true actually. But you know how furious he will be if he thinks I'm a thief. He'll call the city guard and have me thrown in prison. Besides, he's probably still angry that I missed work when you were ill. I mean, he threatened to fire me if I didn't turn up for work on time."

"You didn't tell me that! But I can believe it, that greedy bastard probably wouldn't think twice about tossing you out without a penny for your trouble."

"Yeah, so I really can't afford to be late today. He'll be expecting me to be there soon so I can get things cleaned up properly before he opens the shop. He insists on the shop being spotless since clients could drop by unexpectedly."

Catherine drummed her fingers, still a bit angry at her husband's awful employer. "Well, I think I'll just stay in today. We can survive at least one more day before I need to go to the market, and I am sure I can keep myself busy until you get home. I don't want to go outside just yet - if I shake someone's hand I don't want to be afraid of breaking it. See what you can find out, and then come home as soon as you can."

The couple then spent some time just holding hands and making small talk, but too soon it was time for Peter to leave. Catherine managed to prepare a packed lunch without breaking anything, much to her relief. They shared a deep and intimate kiss on the doorstep, and then Peter began the journey to Alexei's workshop.

******

The streets of the city were quiet, and it didn't take long for Peter to make his way to the workshop. Oddly, the front door was ajar. Normally Alexei kept the front door securely bolted unless he was open for business. Curious, Peter pushed the door fully open. The downstairs shutters were still closed, so the interior of the shop was dark and gloomy. But even with the limited light it was obvious no-one was around the shop floor. Once inside he called out in case Alexei was upstairs, but there was no reply.

Peter unlatched the shutters to let in light, yet the banished shadows revealed nothing amiss. The display cabinets and shelves full of the brightly coloured tinctures, perfumes and ointments that were Alexei's day-to-day stock in trade were undisturbed, and there was no evidence of forced entry. Peter called out again, but still heard no reply from inside the house. He knocked on the door that led upstairs to Alexei's living quarters, but the door simply swung open at his touch. Once again he called out, and once again the only response was silence. It was certainly out of character for Alexei to leave his house and workplace unattended and unlocked, but perhaps he had simply gone out on an errand? Peter spent a few more minutes checking that the building was in fact vacant, though he refrained from going upstairs. Alexei held his private chambers sacrosanct, and if he caught his cleaner upstairs there was no telling what the alchemist would do. In the end Peter found no evidence of anyone else being present, and wondered what on earth could have made his employer leave without even locking the front door.

If it had been thieves, Peter would have expected to see some evidence of theft. The workshop seemed somewhat disorganised, as if someone had been rummaging through it, but there was nothing missing as far as Peter could tell. It had probably just been Alexei working on some project late into the night with the expectation that Peter would clean up after him (as usual). There was still no sign of Alexei, and a darring thought occurred to Peter. Perhaps this was the perfect opportunity to see if he could find any notes about the potion he had stolen! Alexei kept most of his records in a small office adjoining the workshop. Peter wasn't normally allowed into this space, but that seemed the most likely place for him to find some information and it wasn't as if there was anyone here to stop him.

With some trepidation, he opened the door to the small office. The door squeaked slightly as he pulled it open. The cramped space was shrouded in darkness, so he lit a small lantern and looked around the room. Alexei had managed to make the already small space seem claustrophobic with the amount of stuff he had crammed into it. Three walls were taken up completely by shelf upon shelf of books, papers and ledgers. There was so much paper that many of the shelves were bent and creaking under the weight. The alchemist had clearly run out of space at some point as the floor was a mess of haphazardly stacked boxes and untidy piles of aging leather-bound books, some of which were nearly four feet tall and looking alarmingly precarious.

Gingerly Peter stepped around one particularly unsteady looking pile and seated himself at the solidly built writing desk that stood in the centre of the room. Peter knew Alexei wasn't always the tidiest (which is why Peter had a job in the first place), but he had never imagined that his employers office would look like this. He had never seen so many books in one place! He imagined that Alexei must have some kind of system to finding things in the chaos and clutter around him, but Peter didn't have a clue where to start.

Peter could read, but not well. He only knew his letters thanks to a kindly travelling priest who had taught periodically in his village when he was a child, and he had never had much opportunity to practice. He opened the first book that came to hand, and found seemingly endless columns of numbers and names on every page. He couldn't make sense of any of it, but it was clearly some kind of accounting or ledger book.

He closed the book with a thud, raising a puff of dust. Peter looked around the room, and sighed at the prospect of trying to sort through the jumbled mess that surrounded him. This was going to take some time...

******

Back at home, Catherine spent much of the morning busying herself with domestic chores. There was something of a backlog from her days of illness, and she threw herself into the tasks to distract herself. By the time she was hanging the last of their clothes to dry, it was just approaching noon.

Once she was done, she sat down in the kitchen and wondered what to do next. Normally she would spend the rest of her day out at the market, as much to chat with people as to bargain for what they could afford with their limited budget. Right now though she didn't really want to see anyone else until Peter came home. Sighing, she decided to spend the rest of the afternoon catching up on her needlework. It wasn't exactly her favourite way to pass the time but there were always more clothes needing repair, and it would probably be prudent to modify a few of her dresses to accommodate her new bust more comfortably.

Settling down by the window, Catherine let the routine of using needle and thread calm her mind. She had been mending clothes her whole life, and now muscle memory let her work swiftly and efficiently without needing to think too much. She added patches to two shirts, and then started working on one of her dresses - a green one she had bought at last year's summer fair. Her mind began to wander, and she remembered how she had begged Peter to let her buy it. He had been reluctant at first due to the cost, but once he had seen her try it on he had been more than willing to hand over the money. She smiled at the memory. Peter had adored her in that dress, and had insisted she wear it that very night for the celebrations. They had danced for hours that night, and once the dancing was done they had snuck off together to celebrate further in private. She remembered his passion as he had kissed her, and how she had pressed herself against him in response...

Catherine snapped out of her reverie when she pricked a finger with her needle. It didn't draw blood, but the distraction focused her back on the present. She was breathing fast, and feeling quite flushed. Her body was reacting enthusiastically to just the memory of that romantic encounter. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Catherin set herself back to the task of sewing but soon her mind started to wander again, this time turning to memories of how good sex had felt with Peter after drinking the potion. Her entire body shivered involuntarily as she recalled how she had felt during that heady rush of power, and a dull ache of desire began to build deep within her. Lost in thought, Catherine soon closed her eyes and fell into a reverie - her repair work forgotten and abandoned.

She had no problem recalling how enjoyable the last two sexual encounters with her husband had been, and she replayed the vivid memories over and over in her mind. Unconsciously she slipped one hand down between her legs, caressing herself through the fabric of her dress. She spent a while just laying back and enjoying herself, the fingers of one hand gently caressing her inner thighs. Her lust continued to build as she relived memories of other sexual encounters - her first time making love outdoors, her wedding night, having sex by the fire, and many others. All of these were genuine memories, but as her ardour built further Catherines imagination began to take control. The remembered encounters began to change, diverging from the reality of the past as they became more vibrant and energetic, fantasy merging with memory.

Soon she was letting out quiet moans. She raised her left hand to her breast, kneading and squeezing it. Only semi-aware of what she was doing, she hiked up her skirt with her right hand. Her pussy was juicy and slick with arousal, and she slid two fingers straight inside with virtually no resistance.

In her mind's eye, her old flat-chested body had been replaced by her new busty self, dressed in a tight form-fitting dress that lifted her generous bosom to show off her cleavage. Before her, Peter stood waiting for her. But it wasn't the Peter that she had married. This masculine figure was a full head taller than her husband, and had much more defined musculature with rock-hard abdominals and a chiselled chin. Dream-Peter stepped forwards and took her into a startling strong embrace, crushing her against him as he bent down to kiss her quivering lips.

She could feel his desire as he pressed a rock-hard erection into her and she delighted in the feeling, pressing her ample bosom into his chest and pulling him into a tighter embrace as she returned his passionate kisses. They began to grind against each other, and as she did so Dream-Catherine's bosom began to grow, getting larger and larger. Thanks to dream logic, the transitions from clothed to naked didn't require any fiddly undressing in between, and suddenly she was pressing her bust against warm, soft flesh instead of just cloth, her breasts now easily double the size they had been. She pushed Dream-Peter down onto a bed, and knelt atop his adonis-like body. He began to knead and suck her engorged breasts, his hands strong and firm. This version of her husband was significantly better endowed than the real thing, and a thick rod of eager man-meat pressed itself against her, eager for more.

Back in reality, the heady scent of arousal now filled the air. Catherine was leaning as far back in her chair as she could, her legs spread wide to grant better access to her sex. She was dripping wet, and a small pool of her juices had begun to form on the floor. The hem of her dress was hiked up around her hips, while the shoulders had been shrugged off and pulled down, exposing her chest. Her left hand was still occupied with her breasts, alternating between teasing and pulling on her erect nipples and squeezing and kneading the soft flesh in order to match her current fantasy. The other hand was busy between her legs, stimulating her swollen and extremely sensitive clit.

In her mind, she stood above a male figure that only had the barest resemblance to her husband, and positioned herself above his throbbing member. She gasped as she lowered herself upon that steely hard length, imagining how good it would feel to have herself stretched and filled by such a mighty sword. Back in reality, Catherine used her hand to try and mimic the sensation of her fantasy, plunging her fingers deep within herself over and over again. She bucked her hips as she imagined riding wildly upon that fearsome pole, but the work of her fingers just could not match the expectations of her fantasy. She wanted to feel the pulsing heat of a real cock driving deep inside of her, to feel it erupt and then milk it of every last drop of cum. She continued like this for a few minutes, but was unable to achieve a release and eventually frustration caused her to snap out of her trance-like state.

Looking down, Catherine was initially confused by her state of undress. Then she realised that she was still holding one breast in her hand and that she still had two fingers embedded in her pussy. She jerked her hands away in embarrassment and in doing so accidentally flung a spray of fluid from her soaked fingers. She felt herself blushing as what she had been doing sank in. She had pleasured herself a bit in the past, but never anything like this! She then noticed the pool of fluid she was sitting in and which had soaked into her dress, as well as just how wet she was. Her labia were swollen and engorged, and when she tentatively touched them she discovered just how sensitive they were - a shiver of pleasure ran through her as she ran her fingers in amazement over those moist lips.

She could still feel the dull ache of frustration that had caused her to snap out of her pleasure trance, and her body was desperately demanding release. Now fully aware of what she was doing, Catherine forced herself to slowly explore her body, marvelling at the sensations that coursed through her body. She struggled out of her bedraggled dress and moved to the bed so that she could be more comfortable. She could feel her wetness dripping down her legs as she moved, and each time her legs slid against each other another shiver of pleasure ran through her.

Catherine sank into the bed and resumed playing with herself, intent on attaining the final release that her body was aching for. Already on edge from her previous activities, it didn't take long for her to reach a frantic pace, pistoning the fingers of one hand in and out of her dripping vagina as fast as she could while her other hand frantically worked her throbbing clit. Her mind was soon completely occupied by her desire to reach a climax and experience more pleasure, but she just could not seem to cross that final hurdle. She was working her clit hard enough that the sensations were just barely short of becoming painful, and she had produced so much lubricating fluid that everything around her groin was completely drenched. In search of release, her mind turned to imagination once again.

Her previous fantasy of what it would feel like to have even bigger breasts pushed to the forefront of her mind. She thought of how good it would feel to really have her tits grow even more, to be able to heft their weight and feel what Peter could do with them as they made love. She shifted one hand to push and squeeze what she had already gained, and as she did so she felt her connection to the well of power that drinking the alchemist's potion had left inside of her come into focus. She wondered if she could control it, and instinctively her mind reached out and pulled on that thread of power. Suddenly, she felt energy pouring through that link just like it had previously, but this time she was in control.

She grasped the tendril of power and sent it straight to her breasts, her lust-filled mind wanting nothing more than to make her breasts grow even larger. She didn't allow any of it to diffuse to other parts of her body, focusing it all straight into her chest. It felt like an intense fire was being stoked under her skin, burning as hot as a furnace. Her hands stilled as her mind focused on controlling the power. At first it felt like there was resistance, but then the energy bent to her will and the heat dissipated as the energy settled into her body.

For a moment, all was still. Catherine lay panting on the bed, her skin covered with a sheen of sweat from both the physical exertion and the strain of tapping into her alchemically gifted powers. Tentatively, she reached up to her chest with a shaking hand but nothing seemed to have happened.

Suddenly her breasts started to tingle. It started at her nipples, and then swiftly spread outwards. Moments later, her tits began to swell as the magic went to work. Her nipples were now rock hard and hyper-senstive, and she could feel her skin slowly stretching and expanding. Waves of pure bliss rocked her body and Catherine let out an ear-splitting scream as the sensation finally pushed her over the edge to reach an orgasmic climax. She rode the crest of the orgasm, feeling as if she must be ascending to heaven. But instead of coming down, more waves of pleasure rippled through her and she lost control, driven to new heights of pleasure. Her body began spasming, her vagina muscles clenching so hard that she squirted - sending fluid several feet across the room. She continued to cum repeatedly for some time, until eventually she lost consciousness, her pussy still twitching and squirting juices.

Eventually the magic finished its work, but it was some hours later that Catherine finally awoke. The first clear thought to come to her mind was that she was cold, as she could feel a breeze on her legs and breasts. The second was that her breasts felt heavy - REALLY heavy.

She opened her eyes and looked down. Two days ago she had barely had breasts, just large enough to stop her being flat-chested. After drinking the potion Peter brought home to heal her illness, her breasts had grown so that they could comfortably be cupped in a single hand. Now though...what sat on her chest were a pair of tits of truly massive proportions. Each of them was easily as big as her head, and they were both topped by large, erect nipples surrounded by dark-coloured areolae. They fell slightly to her sides as she lay on her back, but when she sat up they hung as perfect teardrops while remaining pert and full. In awe, she brought up her hands to heft their weight and marvelled at how soft and full they felt. Her breasts were now so big that they overflowed from her hands as she held them, and a nervous, high-pitched laugh escaped her as she came to grips with the fact that she had apparently performed magic upon herself to make this change.