Bigger Cuddle
Vampire Eyes Breaking Ties
Soul Editor
Bigger Cuddle
Content warning: lighthearted manipulation, transformation, soft hypnosis
“Come on over. I’ve got a potion I want you to try. We’re going to snuggle afterwards.” The message had been punctuated with a kiss. Black lipstick.
When I’d started dating a witch, for some reason I didn’t think she would start testing all her potions on me. I’m not sure why.
Not that I’m complaining. Erada makes good potions, and unwanted side effects usually wore off after a few days. Unwanted main effects, well, she’d give me a potion to counteract those. It’s not that the shrubbery hair had looked bad, it just wasn’t my style.
Plus now I had smoother skin than I ever had in my life, except when she had me try that scales potion.
The weather was getting chilly. I guess autumn was finally here (about time if you ask me). Not cold enough for me to wear a jacket, but I’d pulled on my long striped sleeves.
I say it wasn’t cold enough for me to wear a jacket, but I could see Erada wearing a heavy coat even in her shop. She looked like a bundle of cloth with her striped, chameleon tail-tipped witch hat on top. Her fiery red eyes poked out between as her wavy red hair spilled out.
“If I didn’t have to keep the potions cold I’d have it up all the way,” she said, when I asked why she doesn’t turn the heat on.
“Well, at least I like it,” I said.
She grinned. “Yeah, I know, you’re like a big bear.”
“Minus all the fur, anymore,” I said.
“Besides, I’ve got these.” She slipped an orange potion from under her coat before returning it. “Enough warmth potions it’s summer under my coat.”
She clasped two hands over mine and pulled me towards the back room. The herbs jammed under the pink band on her hat struck my nose.
“Now come on! Up the stairs!”
She flipped the shop sign from open to “Out to lunch—back when I feel like it” and pushed me up the stairs.
It was almost comical how pushy someone so small could be to someone so big—the top of her tall hat hardly reached my head.
Yet it was nice in a way dating someone who knew what she wanted and knew she would get it. It made it easy to go with the flow when the current was so strong.
We reached upstairs, only for her to immediately lead me down another set of stairs to a dim room on the first floor.
“We aren’t hanging out on the second floor today?” I asked.
“I set up a little room on the first floor,” Erada said.
“Why did we go upstairs first, then?”
She switched on the light, and I saw the room filled with a sea of pillows and blankets. The doors were blocked by them.
“Never mind,” I said.
She placed her warmth potions on a wall shelf and slipped off her coat, under which was her dark, lace-trimmed shop dress. Once she put her coat up she pushed me backwards down to the soft sea and jumped on me before I could get up.
I giggled and blushed as she kissed me on the nose, still confused from my sudden shift of position.
“Wait, wait,” I said through the laughter, “weren’t—I’m not complaining, but didn’t you want me to test a potion first?”
“Noooo,” Erada said with a grin. “No potion test today.”
I smiled. “Well, all right, then.”
Erada stood up and grabbed a dark potion from the shelf.
“It’s not a test, because I already know it works. I just want you to try it.”
“Ah. Semantics.”
I sat up on the cushions and she handed me the potion. I opened and sniffed it.
It gave off a heavy, earthy scent. It looked rough going down.
As far as I was aware Erada had never given me alcohol in the potions. I told her on our first date I didn’t drink alcohol, and she respected that. She knew my limits and had not transgressed them.
She never told me what was in the potion ahead of time, though.
I’d learned to ask some important questions beforehand.
“Should I swap out my clothes first? I brought an extra set.” A baggy old set that I wouldn’t mind being impaled with a sudden set of spikes over my body.
Erada lay back on the cushions and smiled. “If you like.”
“So that’s a yes,” I said, removing my long sleeves. I glance at the doors blocked by pillows. “Where can I go change?”
Erada laughed and tiled her hat over her eyes. “Go ahead, I won’t look.”
I stood up. “No, seriously.”
She smiled and peeked her eyes out from under her hat. In the dark they almost appear to glow.
“You don’t mind if I’m here.”
I know that voice, and I know what she’s doing, putting her words in my head like they’re my thoughts. It takes a lot of willpower, but I shake my head.
“No. You know I’m anxious. I won’t drink the potion if you don’t leave.”
Erada smiled, and in a moment stood next to me, pulling my shoulder down.
“All right, I won’t use that voice,” she whispered. “I care enough about you not to make you. We’ll help that anxiety another time.”
I blinked and woke up sitting in the room, Erada gone.
I could resist the other voice, but that voice always blindsided me. I looked around the room, but she seemed to have left. I sighed and smiled. Had I said it was nice dating someone who knew what she wanted and would get it?
It was the leniency that really made it nice. She tested those boundaries, but she’d wait until I broke them.
Satisfied I was alone, I quickly swapped to an old set of baggy clothes. The shirt had more holes than I could count anyway.
I called upstairs, “All right, I’m ready.”
Erada stepped down the stairs, holding the potion, and I blushed. She had a change of clothing, too, from most of her body covered to now her midriff and shoulders and back exposed. I looked at the potion. Just what was it going to do?
She laughed. “Like my outfit change?”
She brought a hand to my chin and directed me down closer.
“Maybe not normal for just snuggling, but I’d like a bit of skin. You’ll know why soon. One more thing before we start.”
She kissed my lips. I forgot where I was for a moment. When she let go all I could say was “ngeh.”
Erada laughed. “Wanted to kiss you there before we start since I won’t be able to after.”
I looked at the potion and sat on the cushions.
“I wish you would tell me what these potions do beforehand sometimes.” She handed me the bottle.
“Then you’d miss out on all the guessing!”
“All the hints you drop just make me more confused,” I said.
“I’m afraid you’ll just have to bear with me,” she said.
I shrugged. “Well, only one way to find out, I guess.” I opened the bottle and drank the potion. I gagged and coughed at the end.
“How much hair went into this?”
Erada laughed. “I never did find a way to mask that texture, it always diluted the effects.”
I looked at my arm. Thick clumps of hair grew over my skin. The rest of my body grew itchy.
“You gave me a potion before to thin my body hair, why did you give me one to grow it?”
“It’s not exactly hair,” Erada said.
I scratched my itchy skin and shouted at a sharp pain. My fingernails looked a lot sharper than usual. My hands looked swollen. My arms felt swollen, but I couldn’t see under the mass of hair. My teeth, my face, felt sharper, longer.
“Okay, can you tell me–” I shouted and fell back as I suddenly felt a lot more of me. I’ve always been pretty big, but I felt like everything up to now had been small, that I began to embody big. The room seemed to shrink before me. My legs expanded, my shoulders, my head.
I was glad Erada didn’t have the heat on because the hair was growing all over my body. My face grew forward, my ears up. My first thought was werewolf, but even those weren’t this big.
I tried to ask Erada about the potion, but I only growled and shut my mouth right after.
Erada laughed as she bent down behind me. She pushed me to a sitting position.
“Come on, let’s sit you back up and you can take a look.”
I felt a pop at my lower back as if a small tail emerged and sat up in surprise. I looked at Erada; even as I sat she stood far below me now.
“What do you think?” Erada asked, lifting a hand mirror. I looked at the mirror and gave a roaring gasp. I ran my hands—or I guess paws—over my pointed nose and ears, over all the hair—fur—is there actually any difference?
“A bear?” I wanted to shout, but only roared a grunt.
“A big old cuddly bear!” Erada said, climbing onto my significantly enlargened belly and settling against my fur. “What better to snuggle up against when it’s cold than a big, warm, furry bear?”
I grunted. This really was too much. Her potions had made me green, spiky, on fire…
She’d swapped my sense of sight and taste, turned most of my body into slime, turned me porcelain…
Okay, so maybe turning me into a bear wasn’t so ridiculous. But the other ones I at least kept my general body shape, except maybe for the slime one.
I really wanted to complain.
Regardless of whether I could actually talk now, though, as soon as I tried to complain Erada scratched me under my chin and I forgot my complaints.
“You don’t mind being big like this for a little while,” she said. “You can even hold me in your arms like this.”
She snapped her fingers, and I lifted my arms for her to lay on. She hugged an arm against my fur as she continued to scratch my chin. My mind focused entirely on Erada; I vaguely knew what was going on beyond that but couldn’t think at length of anything but Erada.
She booped my nose with a finger, and as if it were a button I dropped back onto the cushions. She lay forward on my stomach and watched me until I awoke from the reverie.
“You make a lot of good fur,” she said, snuggling against my body. I glared at her, but she kissed my nose.
She scratched my head, and my grumpy attitude melted at her touch. Maybe it wasn’t so bad. She got something big to cuddle, and I got a lot of attention. Before long I grew drowsy from her scritching and snuggling and started to doze off. She curled up atop me and we napped.
When I woke up she was a lot bigger. No, I was smaller. The potion had worn off–I was human again.
That meant Erada was holding me tight now. I felt my whole body heat up and blush. I couldn’t move. Her grip wasn’t that strong, but I could hardly think to move from her embrace.
I sat there and let her hold me as she slept. I couldn’t bring myself to move a muscle.
…
I wonder if she planned that.
“Thank you, my dear. I think it’s time to wake.” At the last word Hilja snapped her fingers and I awoke from the trance. My head felt a little loopy and it took me a moment to adjust to my surroundings. The warm sun shone on me, but a cool breeze hinted at the fall season.
Hilja sat in a lawn chair under a parasol, holding her cup of tea. I was a little concerned we were outside, but Hilja’s mentor and vampire parent’s home was fairly isolated. Probably no one saw me. It wasn’t a big issue, just… weird to think of someone seeing me hypnotized.
My vampire girlfriend knew that, though. She wouldn’t do something that made me uncomfortable.
I stretched in the stiff clothing, shaking off the grogginess. I thought over what I remembered since falling into Hilja’s eyes. She had me bring her a cup of blood tea…
Before that she’d wanted to sit outside… before that I’d cleaned her mentor’s house a little… before that I’d put on that maid dress…
Wait
The
The what
I looked down at the maid dress I wore. I looked at Hilja.
“The maid dress?” I whined. Hilja snickered.
“Now, now,” she said, “I could tell that you really wanted to wear it.”
We had been trying outfits on me earlier, but I’d said the maid outfit was a bit too far.
Did I really want to wear it, though?
“You look good in it,” Hilja said.
I laughed and covered my face as I blushed.
“Okay, maybe I did wanna wear it,” I said. I felt a twinge and looked around. “Nobody else saw me?”
“No one’s around,” Hilja said. “We’re all alone.”
I looked at the bushes at the front of the property. They shook as if something moved inside. I peered closer.
“Then who’s that?”
Someone appeared to be crouching in the bush watching us, popping their head up a few times.
“What?” Hilja stood, held the parasol above her, and leapt—or maybe she flew—straight over to the bush, landing with a thud.
The person in the bush shouted and scrambled out backwards.
“Who are you, and what are you doing here?” Hilja asked. Her voice, normally calm and quiet, took a deep, thunderous tone. I knew she took one a frightening tone because she was worried–someone was spying on her mentor’s house, or even worse, us.
But the person just babbled.
She seemed to try and explain but none of the words formed completely. She stopped and started as if a flood of words were jammed and unable to escape.
I walked over. She looked thin and frail. When I first met Hilja I thought she looked thin and frail, but not like this.
Hilja had looked frail and shy but with an element of confidence, like she knew things would be fine even if she was reserved.
This person looked like… she looked like Hilja after I first met her and she was trapped with growing vampire cravings. Afraid. But still different…
Hilja had been afraid of herself, but this person looked afraid of—not just Hilja, but absolutely everything.
A memory slid into place.
“You were at the sip and swap!” I said. Hilja looked at me then back at the girl on the ground.
“Oh, right. She was…”
“She was with Octave.”
Penelope was her name.
Hilja glared so hard I thought I saw blood in her eyes.
“You’re the partner of that rat?” she shouted. “He sent someone to spy on us?”
I understood Hilja’s anger. Octave had tried to steal me from her.
I don’t think she expected Penelope’s next words.
“I left Octave!” Penelope squeaked before she covered her mouth and curled on the ground as if speaking it aloud would punish her.
Hilja stared at her, mouth open. Her rage seemed to subside into surprise.
“You left him?” she asked.
I rubbed my head. I’d felt his power…
It would have been hard to do so. I approached Penelope and bent down.
“Wait,” Hilja said.
“I’ll be fine,” I said. I touched Penelope, and she shuddered. I looked at Hilja. “I’m. I’m not good at this sort of thing.”
Hilja bent next to me and coaxed Penelope’s head up.
We looked her in the eyes. I was again reminded of the times I saw fear in Hilja’s eyes.
My girlfriend placed Penelope’s arm over her shoulders and coaxed her to stand.
“Let’s bring her inside.”
I followed, holding Penelope by the other arm to help her walk. I was surprised.
Hilja went quick from rage to helping. I think I understood, though. Penelope might feel safer inside. Outside, Octave could arrive.
We brought Penelope inside and sat her in a soft armchair. Penelope curled up on it as if taking up as little space as possible.
I brought her some tea. She slowly, cautiously took a sip. I realized I still wore the maid outfit, but Penelope didn’t seem to notice. I sat in a seat near her.
“So what led you to this?” I asked. Not why—I knew why. Because Octave was a cruel, controlling devil.
But to actually leave him and his control must have taken a lot of will. More will than she seemed to have, perhaps because Octave had taken it from her.
Penelope looked down. She mumbled. I glanced at Hilja; her vampire senses could hear most mumbling, but she shrugged.
I assumed Penelope was trying to find an answer.
Then she looked up at us.
“You two.”
“Us?” Hilja asked.
“You seemed so nice. You…” She glanced at Hilja before looking down. “You actually seemed to care for your partner. Treat them as an equal. You fought for them.”
“Octave would never have fought for me. He would have tossed me off a bridge if expedient.”
“Is that why you… went along with him, regarding me?” When Octave had tried to take me she was either in on it or commanded by him.
“No. I can’t say I knew what I was doing.”
“I was just doing what Octave commanded me.” Penelope looked down. “Even now I feel him in my head. I don’t really know what I’m saying.” She looked up. “What am I doing here? I shouldn’t be here. I need to go back. Maybe if I apologize he won’t–”
Hilja blocked her from standing
“You are not going back to him,” Hilja started, voice as firm as stone.
“No, I need to, he’ll be angry,” Penelope said. “He’ll be angry with you if you keep me here, you know. You’d better let me go.”
“Shh.” I held her shoulder. “He can’t get to you here. You’re safe here.”
“No… I want to go back,” Penelope said. She spoke as if reading a script.
“You told us you left him,” I said.
“I did? No. Yes. What am I…” She shook her head.
I leaned close to Hilja and whispered, “You don’t think you could hypnotize her to remove Octave’s power, do you?”
“I’m not that good at it,” Hilja whispered. “I might do something wrong. I could confuse her even more.”
“We can’t let her stay like this,” I whispered.
“Hello!”
I jumped away at a boisterous voice and the front door opening. Hilja’s mentor, Vil, slithered in, towering over us.
“Wonderful to see you all,” the vampire lamia said. They tipped their ornate top hat to us and nodded to me. “Lovely outfit, you look splendid.”
I blushed. In all the surprise I’d forgotten about the maid outfit again. Was I really getting that comfortable in it?
“And who is this friend?” Vil reached out a hand to take Penelope’s, but she shrunk into the chair.
“Er, Da–Vil,” Hilja said, “this is Penelope. She’s–she was the partner of Octave.” Vil’s smile darkened.
“Ah. He’s the one at the sip and swap you–”
“Yes. She said she left him.
“Ah. That’s a difficult thing to do,” Vil said. “Vampire or no.” They watched Penelope, who avoided Vil’s gaze and curled smaller in the chair.
“I believe my presence is making her anxious,” Vil murmured. “I’ll leave you two to help her in this.”
“No, Vil, wait,” Hilja said.
“This is good timing. She’s having trouble resisting the power Octave held over her. Could you hypnotize her and remove it?”
“Why, you can do that, Hilja,” Vil said.
“No I can’t,” she replied. Vil held Hilja’s hands.
“Now, dear, you can do anything I can do, except slither.”
“In fact, you can likely do it better than me,” Vil said. “She knows you, after all. If she associates you with something good she’ll let you in easier, you can dislodge bad effects as a friend instead of an intruder.”
I held Hilja’s hand and nodded to her. “I believe in you.”
Hilja nodded. “All right. I’ll do it.”
She knelt in front of Penelope and spoke her name. Penelope looked up and stared into Hilja’s eyes. I recognized the familiar red, pulsating glow that began to grow in Penelope’s eyes.
They blinked and Hilja stumbled back.
“Ow… Something bit back at me in there,” Hilja said. “There are locks. I’m not sure…”
“I need to go,” Penelope blubbered. “I need to go back to Octave. I can’t—I must—”
“Hey, it’s okay,” I said. I held Penelope’s hand. “You’re safe here. Just breathe.”
“I can’t…”
I took Hilja’s hand in my other. “Can we go together?”
“Hold each other close,” Vil said.
Hilja pulled her arms through ours. I pulled my other arm through Penelope’s, pulling us close until we could see both each others’ eyes at the same time.
Hilja’s eyes pulsated, and I stared
A familiar glow surrounded me, covering my surroundings in darkness. I could still see Penelope’s eyes, and her eyes began to mimic Hilja’s. I felt a warmth, safety. I was safe with Hilja. I normally felt safe with her, and this made that safety everything. I smiled.
I frowned at a shudder in Penelope’s eyes. Something flashed back, but it seemed to bounce between me and Hilja. A block was in there, but it was scattered. We stayed in place.
“You’re safe here, Penelope,” Hilja said. “It’s safe to let me in.”
“Safe…”
“Let me in your thoughts”
Hilja combed her fingers through Penelope’s short hair.
“Let me comb through your thoughts, help you organize, remove bad thoughts.”
“Yes…”
I felt the sharp flash disappear. Hilja had passed Octave’s locks on Penelope. I felt Penelope relax, and I relaxed, too.
Hilja could handle helping Penelope from here. I let my mind fade into her hypnosis. I was vaguely aware of parts of Penelope’s mind passing through mine, a shelf for Hilja to move bits of Penelope by as she removed Octave’s programming from her.
When I woke up we three sat on the couch in a little cuddle pile. I blushed and glanced at Penelope. I wondered if she’d feel awkward, but after everything she went through, maybe it would be the least of her worries.
She was free of Octave now, I hope.
She could start healing.
Soul Editor
Content warning: mind control, soul control, ego death, removal of a soul from a body and turning said body into a puppet
“Why, hello there, you little cutie. What are you doing out here all by your lonesome?”
You jump in surprise at the sudden appearance and voice of someone next to you on the bus stop bench. You didn’t hear her walk up. One second you were alone, the next you have company.
You’re not sure what to make of her. That ample witch hat atop her head seems fitting enough for the Halloween season, but the rest of her outfit has enough skin showing it must be one of those “sexy” witch costumes—assuming she isn’t a prostitute going for a Halloween theme. You turn away.
“Sorry, I’m not interested,” you say. You’ve had a long day regardless and just want to get home. She laughs.
“That’s easy enough to change.”
A warm hand cups your face and turns you back to her—at least, you thought it was her hand, but it looks to be a staff of some sort that felt like flesh. Not wood, not metal, not plastic, but warm and soft, pulsating with ghostly balls of off-white light.
This is getting weird now, costume or not. You push the staff away from you, though for a moment it feels electric, like injecting an energy drink directly into your hand. You shake your hand.
“Go away,” you say, “I don’t want whatever you’re after and I certainly don’t trust you.” The witch laughs again.
“Oh, my silly dear,” she says. She lifts the staff, and you stare as the end flashes, a rapidly swirling ball of color that grabs your attention. She leads your gaze to her eyes, which now swirl with the same colors. “What makes you think your silly little opinions matter?”
You stare into her eyes, feeling a wave of pleasure swarm over your body. You think what she said was wrong, you really don’t trust her, but as you stare into her eyes that thought of distrust grows smaller, insignificant, nothing.
“The only thing that truly matters in the moment is what you feel,” she says. “In the moment, the only thing guiding your interests is what you’re feeling.”
She pulls you closer, her staff bending and twisting with the dexterity of a snake around your shoulders, squeezing down your arms and chest. You try to hold on to that distrust, but it disappears as you feel pleasure pulsate through your mind and ripple down your body.
“And it’s so easy for me to manipulate what you’re feeling,” she whispers. She strokes her fingers under your chin, but it feels like she’s stroking the core of your being. “To simply write on your soul new, pleasurable feelings, and arouse new desires and interests in your very soul.”
Her staff squeezed tighter, snaking down your body as she stroked your chin and stroked your soul as if with a pen. You don’t care at all now whether you trust her or not. All you know is you feel tingling, swamping pleasure surging through your body, originating from this enchanting witch. She’s all you’re interested in right now. She chuckles, stroking your head like a pet.
“And I’ve written my mark so deeply on your soul that those wonderful feelings are overwhelming,” she says. “It’s hard to think. You don’t really think, with your bothersome old opinions meaningless, but you still remember, as murky and fuzzy as those memories are becoming.” She holds your face in her hands and pulls you closer to her eyes, her staff now coiled to your hips and still snaking down, squeezing your legs. “So blurry are your memories now,” she says, “it’s so simple for me to write over them now, too.” She kisses you on the forehead as if marking your memories with a kiss. “To write myself into your memories. Why, you’ve known me for years, haven’t you?” She laughs. “You’ve known me forever. Just let me write myself into your memories. Let me write over those dusty old memories. You don’t have anything else important to remember, anyway.”
By now trust would be the last thing that matters. All your memories are of this witch, this witch who soaks your mind with hypnotic pleasure then intensifies it until you have no interest but her. No interest but letting her do as she wants.
“And now, my silly soul vessel,” she says, “now that I’ve fixed your feelings to me, scribbled myself into your memories, and pulled your interest to me so far you have no opinion on anything I might do to you, now it’s easy to simply . . .” The staff squeezed tight, wrapped all over your body. “Wipe it all away.”
You grin at a surge of power washing through you. Your body goes numb, then your head, then your mind. Even your altered memories feel disconnected as the witch erases you, bit by bit, sucking the soul straight from your body and into her staff. What might be the pain of a separation is the pleasure of a new purpose, a new existence.
As the witch erases you from your soul, she rewrites it entirely.
The soul is hers now. She owns it. It’s her property.
Your soul pops out and fizzes into the witch’s staff, another source of power with nothing in it but subservience to its master, life force that only knows life as part of the witch.
That leaves the body. With the soul that once resided in it firmly in her control, she easily leads the body to follow her with her staff. The body follows, a puppet in her control, to her home for her to do as she wishes with.
Oh, my, no, we can’t describe what she’s doing, it’s much too scandalous!
Oh, very well, if you insist.
It’s a long night of fun she has with that body.
So many cute outfits she dresses it up in like a doll.
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