The Alchemist

Melodie squinted at her grandmother’s ancient alchemy guide. “Does that say one sprig or fifteen twigs?” She decided to split the difference, dropping in a fistful of mirriam and stirring vigorously. This was the first time she’d attempted this particular concoction from the book; it was supposed to settle upset stomachs and soothe colicky children.

“…is it supposed to turn red?” She turned back to check the book, but froze when the caulron let out an omnious bubbling.

The resulting explosion of botched potion rattled windows up and down the little street Melodie’s apothecary was situated on.

Melodie stood motionless for a second, covered in reddish goo. Thankfully, the mess had been mostly blocked from ruining her extensive collection of tomes; unfortunately, her body had been directly in the line of fire.

She flipped the “closed” sign on the window and groaned as she started hiccuping. “Great, my soothing salve turned into a elixir of – hic! – effervescence…”

Luckily, Melodie didn’t have far to go for a change of clothes – she lived directly upstairs, in the cosy apartment above the shop. She hopped up the narrow staircase two steps at a time, a trail of red slime dripping off her slight frame.

As she pulled off the remains of her work smock, she examined herself in the mirror for any permanent damage. 4'11", pale, and very slim, Melodie might have been mistaken for a young boy were it not for the way she kept her long auburn hair in a pair of hip-length braids and the loud, wide skirts she wore. The tiny alchemist appreciated the low ceilings of the small apartment – she only needed a single stepstool to reach the highest shelves.

As she pulled on another loose smock, she frowned as it pinched around her hips oddly. Frowning, she pulled it off and grabbed another one, the largest, loosest cut she owned. “Like wearing a burlap sack,” she muttered as she pulled it on. “The other one must have shrunk last time I did laundry – I wonder if I forgot to clean the cauldron out after I made Agnes that mole reduction potion?”

Annoyed at herself, she decided to take it to the tailor down the street in order to get it let out slightly so she could wear it again. “Won’t do to greet customers looking like a vagabond,” she decided.

The tailor wasn’t there when she arrived, but his assistant, Oak, was. Melodie swallowed hard.

Oak was, if Melodie was being honest with herself, the absolute hottest thing on two legs. The young man was absolutely massive, over seven feet tall and built like an ox, with shoulders wider than Melodie was tall. Rumor in the village was that he had some giant blood in him, and Melodie absolutely believed it. But for all his size, the quiet, patient Oak was apprenticed to the tailor and an absolute wizard with a needle and thread, his fingers nimble and sure.

“Hello, Mel. What brings you by?”

“I think I accidentally shrank my smock. Can you let it out a bit?”

“Sure thing. Elfonse is away at the moment, but I can handle it.” He reached down, plucked the garment from Melodie’s arms, and headed into the back room.

Melodie hiccuped again, louder this time, her heart thumping in her ears.

“You alright?” Oak called from the back room.

“F – hic! – fine,” Melodie said, suddenly feeling pinched. She looked down at her dress, only to see it squeezed quite a bit more tightly around a figure that hadn’t been there before. In the place of her barely-there A-cups, two full-looking breasts rose up and tented the top. And her eye level was definitely no longer right at the top of the counter, anymore, but a good few inches above it.

“The hiccups!” she hissed. “The potion!” She clamped down on her diaphragm, willing herself not to hiccup until she could get back to the shop and brew up a counter-reagent.

She was almost successful – and then Oak came back from the back room with the tag for her smock. As soon as his beefy form came into view, Melodie’s heart started racing again, and a hiccup that she had been trying desperately to hold down positively exploded out of her.

“HIC!”

Oak’s eyes widened as Melodie’s body positively erupted with growth. Her smock split down the sides as she shot past six feet tall, falling off her body in tatters. She groaned, blushing wildly, as her waifish form was revealed to her crush.

Except there was nothing waifish about the young alchemist anymore. Where there had been boyish hips and petit breasts, there was now a pair of big, jiggly tits and wide, fecund thighs; her skinny arms and legs were now rippling with muscles. Oak’s jaw dropped open.

“Quick! Help me!” Melodie cried, unsure what else to do. Her hands tried in vain to cover up her unfamiliar body.

Oak turned and ran into the back room as Melodie hiccupped again, setting off another round of swelling and growth. She was shooting up in inches every time she spasmed, and was now nearly eye-level with the half-giant tailor.

What was more unexpected was the muscles. Thick cords of strength were forming all over her body; her biceps were already as big as melons, her thighs like tree-trunks and solid as stone. Her taut midsection was lined with cobblestone-line abdominals, and if she flexed she was sure she could have used them as a washingboard for her clothes.

Oak returned from the back room as Melodie crested eight feet, now towering over the young man and nearing the ceiling of the tailor’s shop. “Drink this!” he said, thrusting forward what looked to be a full-size barrel. Gratefully, Melodie grabbed it in her now much-larger hands and began to chug it down.

Oak watched as the formerly-pixielike alchemist chugged and chugged, her throat bobbing, her breasts heaving as she swallowed again and again. He could feel his cock, already stiff from the view, pressing insistently against his trousers. He’d never seen a woman taller than him – heck, he hadn’t ever met a man taller than him, either – but he certainly like the idea.

Finally, after nearly a full minute, Melodie set down the impromptu drinking glass and took a deep breath. “Thank you, Oak.”

They waited.

And waited.

“…I think that’s it?” Melodie ventured.

“Looks like that cured them,” Oak agreed.

Melodie looked down at herself. “This is… different.” She flexed one enormous arm experimentally. “…but I could get used to it.”

“I like the look,” Oak said, blushing.

“Oh really?” Melodie looked down at the suddenly-dwarfed young man and grinned. “You know, from up here, you’re even cuter than before. Are you interested in helping me… get used to this?” She winked and grinned, and Oak grinned back, his cock now quite evident through his pants.

“Let me get you something to wear first, and then let’s see about what I can teach you.”