The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Shop of Unearthly Delights

Chapter 8: Transformations

* * *

The next day, Travis was at work, letting the time pass by behind the counter.

Aoife, he had noticed, was not like Beth. Whereas Beth liked to lounge and cuddle after sex, Aoife had wasted no time in simply getting up and getting dressed.

“Have fun?” she’d asked, as she pulled her panties back up her legs, having retrieved them from where Travis had dropped them.

“Uh… yeah.”

“Good.” She put her hands behind her head and stretched her back, giving Travis a decent view of her small breasts stretching with her torso. He noticed her nipples were still hard. Then the stretch was over and she was bending down to pick up her dress.

“You, uh, leaving?”

Aoife shrugged. “Wanted sex. We had sex. You need me for anything else, Master?”

“I mean, it just seems kind of impersonal.”

Her dress was on now. She turned and gave him a level look. “We’re not dating,” she said. “I’m a sex slave. There is nothing personal there.”

She had an odd idea of what constituted “personal.” Still, Travis supposed he could see her point. “I guess you wouldn’t even be here if not for the Servis,” he said.

“Obviously.”

Travis was surprised at how that stung. It wasn’t like he wasn’t expecting it, but still, to hear it so bluntly… then again, Aoife seemed like a pretty blunt person. He wondered if maybe Beth felt the same way.

“Sorry,” Travis said. The word felt hollow. Obviously, “sorry” wouldn’t be enough to cover it, but he wasn’t sure what else he could offer. “I know I’m not… well, sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Aoife said. “I drank the damn thing by choice. Granted, I was stupid at the time, but still.” She began walking toward the door, but paused a foot or so away from it. “You’re not what?”

“What?”

“Just now. You apologized and said you know you aren’t something? You’re not what?”

“Um.” Travis fidgeted uncomfortably in the bed. “A catch, exactly? I don’t know, attractive?”

Aoife turned around and looked at him. Travis fidgeted again. It was like she was studying a specimen. “You look fine to me,” she said. “Granted, I am under the effects of a permanent magical spell, so there’s probably some bias there. A non-enslaved person may have a different view.”

Great, Travis thought. So all it takes a magic spell for women to find me attractive.

It was true though. Travis looked down at his naked body. At his gut that extended a bit too far, at his dick which he’d always thought was too small (even if everything he’d read had indicated it to be an average size at least), at his limbs which lacked any real muscle tone. He didn’t look good at all.

There was a silence in his room, and then Aoife spoke again. “You really dislike your body?” she asked.

“I… yeah, I guess.” This conversation had taken an uncomfortable turn, and he wished it would stop.

“You’ll get over it,” Aoife said simply, as if he was mad about being out of ice cream. “Maroney knows how to contact me if you want me for anything. Bye.”

With that, Aoife had left his apartment, leaving Travis naked and alone in his room and not feeling too good about himself.

And so it was that he’d spent most of his day today feeling fairly drained and unwanted. It was a bit past 11 in the morning and he’d been at work since 10, and the day just seemed to be dragging on.

Beth had texted him earlier that morning. She’d wanted to know what Aoife had been like. Travis hadn’t been sure how to respond. He’d simply said it had been fine, though Aoife wasn’t a cuddler like her and he missed that. Beth’s response had seemed amused.

He wondered if she was hiding jealousy. Maybe she resented him for everything that had happened, but couldn’t express it because of her magical enslavement? Aoife certainly hadn’t seemed all that enamored with him once she’d been fucked.

Travis was jolted from his melancholy thoughts by the sound of the shop door opening.

“Travis, my man!” a voice said. It was Riley. He was a regular customer. Always came in about every two weeks for something called “simihema” potion. He was friendly enough, in a slightly annoying way, and dressed in a polo shirt that looked straight out of a 70’s TV show, plus loose-fitting jeans. His blonde hair was long and usually tied in a pony-tail, his skin was fairly pale, and his eyes, while green, seemed to occasionally be red in the right light.

When Travis had started working at the Shop, he hadn’t paid much attention to these traits, nor the name of the potion he was always buying. Now, he very purposely tried not pay attention to these traits or the potion name, even if he did occasionally wonder how Riley walked around in broad daylight with no problems.

“Hey,” Travis said. “The regular?”

“You know it!” Riley slapped a twenty dollar bill on the counter. “Need my fix, you know. Wouldn’t want me going too long without it. No one wants that, trust me.”

Travis nodded and grabbed the simihema from the back shelf. It was a red and thick liquid in an unassuming glass bottle. “Anything else, Riley?”

“Nah,” the man whom Travis absolutely refused to think of as a vampire said. “Word is you stopped your first apocalypse last night, Trav. How was it?”

“I…” Travis thought about it. “I’m not sure how I feel about everyone calling it my ‘first’ apocalypse.”

Riley shrugged. “There’s always some kind of magical chaos threatening to tear down society. Usually, it’s brought about by idiots who don’t know the first thing about magic. Cuz anyone who does know will have learned how not to tear down the foundations of the world around them, you know?”

“I guess that makes sense.”

“Anyway, yeah, Maroney takes care of that shit all the time. Nice to see Maroney’s trusting that shit to you already. His last employee wasn’t allowed to deal with that sort of thing until like five months into the job.”

Travis shrugged. “It was just some guy making bimbos… Wait, last employee? You mean Aoife?”

“Oh, you’ve met?”

“Yeah, she actually kind of helped me stop it.”

Riley nodded. “Ah,” he said. “So you had an experienced hand guiding you.”

“I’m not sure guiding is the right word.”

Riley smiled. His canines were far too pointed-looking for Travis’ comfort. “She’s an abrasive one, yeah?”

“You could say that.”

“Anyway,” Riley said, taking the bottle. “Keep the change. See ya next time it’s time for my feeding.”

Travis hoped he meant next time he needed to buy a blood-substitute.

As Riley left the shop, Travis’ phone buzzed. He checked it and saw he had a text from an unfamiliar number.

Meet at your place tonight? I have something for you.

Travis frowned and replied.

Um… who is this?

Aoife.

How did you get my number?

Magic.

From anyone else, that would have read as sarcastic and snippy. But Travis supposed that Aoife was being completely blunt there.

What do you have for me?

Something to help you.

With what?

You’ll see.

She hadn’t struck him as the coy type. This was making him nervous.

Tell me what it will help with.

Your self-image problems.

Oh. Well that was something. Travis hadn’t really been expecting that. He texted Beth.

Do I seem like I have self-image problems?

I mean... a lot of ppl do

But when you look at me, does it seem like I do?

sometimes?

Shit, man. People were always telling him confidence was key to attracting women, and here he was with two sex slaves who thought he was a zero-confidence wreck. That Servis really was more than he’d ever deserved.

Travis’ phone buzzed with another text from Beth.

Y?

Aoife said she had something to give me to help with my self-image problems. :/

What??

I don’t know.

When she givin it 2 u?

Tonight.

I wanna be there

He didn’t tell her that she could. She’d show up as long as he didn’t forbid it, and if she was using textspeak, that probably meant she was on the clock. Beth only typed like that when she needed to text very quickly.

So… tonight was going to be a thing.

* * *

When Travis got home from work, he ate a TV dinner and took a shower. By the time he was out of it, and wearing a Deadpool T-Shirt and jeans, Aoife was already in his room.

“What the—!? How did you get in here?”

“Your roommate was going somewhere. He let me in.” Aoife paused for a moment, thinking. “He smelled of marijuana.”

“Yeah,” Travis said. “He does.”

“Do you know him well?”

“Not really, no. We mostly keep to ourselves.”

“If you two share weed, don’t. Most of the dealers around here don’t bother with higher quality product. I grow my own if you want something better than that trash.”

Travis blinked. “Um,” he said. “I, uh, I don’t…”

Aoife shrugged. “Whatever. Offer stands if you ever get curious.”

There was a knock on the door, and a part of Travis was immensely grateful for that. He went to get it.

Beth happily stepped in, wrapped her arms around him, and kissed him as soon as the door was open. “Miss me?” she asked as she pulled away.

“Uh, a bit, yeah.”

Beth smiled. Travis couldn’t help but smile back.

“Ahem,” Aoife said. “Did you two have plans?”

“Nah,” Beth told her, walking into the apartment as Travis closed the door behind her. “I just want to see what this self-image thingy you got is.”

Aoife rolled her eyes, then gestured for Travis and Beth to follow her into his bedroom. There, she retrieved a bottle of green liquid she had set on the nightstand.

“This will fix your problems,” she said, holding the bottle out to Travis. “Drink this, and you shouldn’t worry about your body again.”

“What, it’ll like make me confident or something?”

Aoife cocked her head to the side and Travis saw a very faint smile appear on her usually stern face. “In a way.”

As Travis took the bottle from the redhead’s hand, Beth raised an eyebrow. “How do we know it’s safe?”

“Like I’d ever do anything to harm my Master,” Aoife said. “Do I need to explain how the Servis works again?”

Beth stuck her tongue out at Aoife.

Travis stared at the bottle in his hand. His heart was racing. Was this some sort of magic therapy potion? What if he became confident and turned into a jerk? Would the girls still like him? Did they really like him anyway? Or were they just putting up with him because…?

He blinked. Maybe if he was more confident, he wouldn’t be plagued by thoughts like that. Bottoms up then.

He opened the bottle and drank it. Immediately, Travis felt lightheaded. He stumbled, and his body felt… prickly. Like it was coming out of numbness. He moved his limbs around and tried desperately to get the awful feeling out.

And just as quickly as the prickliness had come, it subsided, and he stood in his room, feeling perfectly fine, and no different than he had before.

Beth stared at him. Well, she stared at his stomach. Travis looked down. It… was his stomach. But it seemed different. At once familiar and alien. It was like…

Wait.

Was it flatter?

“Oh,” he said outloud. He looked at his arms. It was subtle, but there was muscle definition there that hadn’t been there before. He rushed to his bathroom, closing the door behind him.

He could hear the voices of Beth and Aoife outside the door, though he couldn’t make out what they were saying. He wasn’t paying attention anyway. He pulled his shirt off and stared.

Travis hadn’t become beefy or anything. He certainly wasn’t very muscular or action-movie star quality or anything. But his excess fat was one. His muscles were defined. It was like his whole body had been subtly changed to be more… more attractive.

He opened his pants and looked down.

“Oh,” he said again. “Oh wow.”