Retirement
Senica couldn't stop eyeing the vial of swirling pink liquid on her desk. Her hand trembled above the parchment paper.
The Elven swordmage sighed and put the pen down again.
This was stupid. She had to leave a note. Everything else was prepared, why was she delaying on this?
A strand of messy red hair fell before her eyes and with a wave of her hand her hair worked itself into a neat pony tail. Magic. One thing she would miss.
The casting that is, not the magic. In preparation Senica had warded her cottage to high heavens, and created dozens of invisible servants, homunculi, and golems to tend her farm and homestead.
Senica moved to stand, wincing as she did so, electing instead to summon one of the invisible servants to bring her a bottle of wine and a glass. Her arm, still weak, shook as she poured the glass and shakily brought it to her lips. Then she curled her lips in a cruel grin as she raised the glass in a mock toast. She downed the glass in a single swig, then burst out laughing.
She was treating this like a funeral. And why? Her life right now was a living funeral. Confined to chair or bed. Friends and family stopping by only to 'talk about the old times' and look at her in pity.
She wouldn't live like this, not at only 150 years old. She would not spend the last 60 years of her life moping in her home writing memoirs and books on theory of magic that would only be read by a a dozen old men.
Fuck that. She smiled for real this time, relishing the human vulgarity.
"Fuck that," she said out loud.
She looked back at the vial of swirling pink liquid. The irony that the fix for her current situation was what got her into it.
That fucking enchanter and his pet manticores that had mauled her to within an inch of her life. So bad even magically healing could only leave her body twisted and broken.
But that bastard's work...
A magical sex slave ring. Easy when you're brewing potions that turn girls in lust crazed brain addled bimbos.
Of course, that wasn't what interested Senica about the pink elixir. It was the effects created by the transmuter that enchanter was working with.
They were remarkable really, able to remove any and all blemishs and imperfection from the imbiber, the perfect magical healing, at the price of giving them a body any lady of the night would die for.
Oh, and the other effects. Those were a bit of a snag.
Senica had pried Melodica, the cleric of the team for access to the transmuter's notes. The cleric gave them up surprisingly easily. Senica wondered how much the clever woman knew.
Regardless, Senica had spent the last several months and a small fortune trying to recreate the potion without it's nastier effects.
At this point it should be obvious it was impossible. It was some sort of interplay between the magics that generated the healing effect.
And now after calling in every single last favor she had, she had a small vial that would heal her body. The only cost was her mind.
There was just one last thing to do. A letter to the four people who deserved to hear it from her.
She poured herself another drink and began to write. The words flowed easy between the wine and her new determination.
To my friends and companions the Honorable Night Ravens,
I am sure most of you are sure of the purpose of this letter, having kept track of my movements over the last months so I shall be brief. I have acquired a draught of the pink liquid created by the villains of Kevon City. I intend to drink it. Do not intend to dissuade me from this course of action, by the time you read this it shall be too late. I will not live my last years a broken shell, writing meaningless drivel. And do not feel the need to visit or comfort me out of pity. I have made arrangements to keep myself comfortable.
It occurs to me that our last meeting as group was unsatisfactory.
Seeing as I was passed out in monastery for most of it.
As which, I wish to give some parting words.
To Greyflame: for a warlock, you are a decent mage. Thanks for never hitting me with a stray blast. I have arranged for a collection of my mystic tomes to be delivered to you. Additionally, I have programmed my golems to beat you to a bloody pulp if you ever visit my home.
Of all of them, the horny warlock was least likely to care about anything but getting to finally fuck an elf. It was enough.
To Jolly Thornberry: your quick wit and quicker blade have saved me more time than I can remember. As such, I have gifted you an assortment of fine elvish blades and tonics that will greatly improve your craft.
Senica didn't particularly like the halfling thief, but there was no denying her prowess. In any case, for halflings shiny objects spoke louder than words.
To Melodica Isiva priestess of Kam Jula: I thank your for your consul and succor. May you eternally revel in glory. I have left you my entire collection of wines and spirits. Raise them to me.
There was much more to say to Melodica, but the two were in near constant communication, and Senica had mailed a much longer letter to her dear friend.
Senica took another gulp of the wine, dreading this last part.
To Sir Bane Hargrave, Knight-Paladin of the order of the Lion: without you, none of us would be anything. Your strong arm and sturdy shield held us together. I release you from your oath. In your honor, I have made a generous donation to your order.
Bane was the one Senica was most worried about. In recruiting her he'd proudly declared an oath to her father that he would 'protect her no matter the cost.' He was the hardest hit by all of this, and would not approve of her course of action.
She understood his pain, but he was not the boss of her, not anymore.
I only wish we could have battled together longer. Do not mourn me, just know that I treasure our friendship and the time we had, and I will miss you dearly.
May the winds always guide you to safety, Senica, Lady of the Gray Glade
She waited a moment for the ink to dry. Then a mere flick of the wrist and the letter split into four identical copies. They folded themselves, slid into envelopes which molten wax dripped onto and her seal pressed. Another motion and the letters disappeared into the ether.
With almost panicked speed, as if afraid someone might stop her, Senica uncorked and downed the vial.
It tasted like strawberries and honey.
Warmth spread through the elf's body as her pain disappeared. She cooed as her hastily set bones melted back into their proper shape. Her scars, both recent and from years of battle faded away into perfect porcelain skin.
Other things were changing too. Her well defined muscles from decades of combat training shifted, no longer those of a warrior, she had just enough definition to look pleasing to the eye and just enough strength to fuck.
She yelped as her hips, buttocks, and breasts expanded, digging into her clothes.
She quickly stripped as her assets inflated to obscene proportions for an elf. Soft, heavy, fuckable tits and a big jiggly ass.
Her lips tingled as they plumped up while her hair grew and grew cascading down her back. She knew her hair, lips, and eyes were now a bright pink like the rest of the victims of the potion.
Senica wished she did this in front of a mirror so she could see herself transform. She called for one of the invisible servants to bring one, marveling at how high pitched, dumb, and sexy her voice sounded.
She stretched for the first time in months. She danced. She laughed, pouring herself another glass of wine. "I don't feel dumb," she said to no one.
Then the heat hit her abdomen.
Elves, as any scholar will tell you, are not particularly sexual creatures. Part of the reason their numbers are so low despite their long lifespans.
Senica was no exception, being practically asexual and disdaining the other races' obsession with sex. With fucking.
As her nipples stiffed and her rarely attended sex began to leak, she suddenly understood where they were coming from.
She also understood the true monstrous, insidious nature of what she drank. She was still all there mentally, and would be until she pleasured herself. Until she fucked her own brains out.
She tried and failed to cast a spell to calm her emotions. She wasn't used to the onslaught of need coming from her body and it caused her spell to falter.
She knew she could brew a potion to do the same, but not in this state and not with the ingredients she had on hand. And her hands were inching towards her sex. Her needy fuckhole.
The invisible servant finally brought in a full length mirror.
Her new appearance was just enough distraction for her traitorous hands to slide between her legs. She moaned.
Perhaps a mage of another race could've saved herself here. She might have the fortitude to cast a spell. But not for Senica. What would be a supercharged libido for a half orc or even a human was unrelenting, unbearable need for the elf.
One of the invisible servants caught her as she slipped awkwardly to the floor, her fingers rubbing her clit.
There was no thought of consequences.
There was no thought of saving herself from her fate.
There was no thought that she'd be nothing more than an Elven fucktoy.
There was only the need to cum as she masturbated for the first time in her long life.
Cum away everything she knew about magic.
Cum away everything she knew about politics.
Cum away her skills with the blade.
Cum away everything she knew about adventuring.
Cum away reading.
Cum away writing.
Cum away math.
After fourteen or so orgasms, Senica giggled. Senica was such a boring name. A boring name for a boring elf that didn't have any fun. She should be, umm?
She was distracted as an invisible servant placed a towel under her to soak up the mess she'd made.
She giggled again. She was so silly. Silly! That was a good name for a silly slutty bimbo!
THREE WEEKS LATER
Silly lay naked in the garden, looking at the folded paper thingie, lightly rubbing herself. The folded paper thingie had pictures of cock. It had pictures of boring other stuff and scribbles too, but Silly only cared about the cocks. Human cock, orc cock, dragon cock...
Silly's tummy rumbled, so she stopped rubbing herself. She'd get one of the big stone men to get her some fruit. The boring elf made sure Silly never had to worry about food, but she should've given the stone men cocks. And the tiny funny men. And the ghost men.
As silly looked up she saw something strange. A person. How could a person get in here? Boring elf made it so she couldn't leave. She got ouchies when she went too far from the house.
Silly stared harder. No, it wasn't a person, it was a man!
Silly sprinted towards him with unnatural speed, her tits and ass bouncing obscenely. As she got close, she recognized the man.
"Bane-y," she cried in her new bimbo voice, smacking her soft flesh into his full plate. She took in a deep breath of his manly scent, her needy cunt leaking more.
"Senica," Sir Bane replied, stoic as always.
"Eww, that's like a boring name. I'm Silly now!"
"Of course you are. How have you been these last weeks?"
"Horny," she pawed at his armor. "Really really horny."
"I see." He paused. "I had hoped you hadn't done it."
Silly ignored him. Dropping to her knees she tried to figure out how to get his cock out.
Sir Bane sighed. "If I knew you'd do something so stupid, I would've stayed here with you myself. You always were trouble. That is why I swore that oath to your father."
Silly wasn't listening, armor was hard to figure out. She wondered if his cock looked like the one in the folded paper thingie. She started rubbing herself, losing focus from her task.
"You really aren't listening, are you? If you listen Sen-Silly, I'll let you fel-suck my cock."
Silly perked up.
"I failed you once. But I will now honor my oath. I will protect you as long as I am able."
Silly stared blanky for a minute. "So, can I like suck now?"
Sir Bane paused for moment, looking down sorrowfully at her. "No." Silly pouted as he removed his armor revealing his toned body and a cock better than any in the folded paper thingy. It was achingly hard and dripped precum.
Silly began to drool, her eyes going glassy.
"Silly, you can suck me later." Sir Bane paused again. "Varna help me, how this is penance I will never know," he muttered. "First, I'm going to fuck that tight elf pussy of yours." He bent her over, pushing her face in the dirt. She wiggled her ass in the air, her leaking cunt smelling of strawberries. It took just a moment for him to line his cock up.
As he thrust into her she saw gods.
***
I came across a visual novel type fantasy game in which, by making the right choices, one of the characters will retire from adventuring by bimbofying herself. (I would say which, but I don't want to give spoilers. How does Tumblr not have spoiler tags? Isn't this site supposed to cater to fandoms? You'd think they'd want them the most.) I wanted to give it a try.
This ended up much more melancholy than I'd intended but it was fun to write. Fitting I suppose.
