A spell of fertility [H/f, fant, cons, BrExp, lac, trans, tg]

2nd elit story. This is public domain: post wherever, modify, rewrite, 
etc. as you wish.
====

Vebria was nervous as she approached the buildings. She had asked 
around, and there shouldn't be any real danger, not if she behaved 
right, but still. She knew others would sneer at her, even call the 
village to condemn her, but she knew what she wanted and knew it was 
right for her. 
The small building appeared ahead, the large clearing empty, the goats 
already in their huts though the sun had barely passed below the 
horizon. At least her mother wouldn't be too mad. She might disapprove, 
would tell her to gain a few more years, arrange things more to her 
advantage, but she'd be supportive, help her. She, too, in her youth, 
had gone her own way, doing what she wanted whatever the villagers had 
said or thought.
Vebria walked into the clearing, past the large gardens, straining her 
ears for any sound from the largest hut. Nothing. She took out the 
biscuits, wrapped in a small cloth. Besides, if nothing else, she could 
explain the dream, let her mother come here, let her figure out how to 
deal with the situation. 
Stopping short of the door, she took the last steps carefully, checked 
over herself, and knocked.
A few moments passed, then, "Come in, dear."

As she stepped into the dark hut, it's owner, outlined by the light of 
the flames, turned around from the fireplace, straightening up and 
looking her directly into the eyes. The stare of the shamaness -- she 
must keep the title in mind, no matter what some people called her -- 
seemed to pierce her.
 "G-Good eve, lady. I come to you, with a gift, and, a hope you will 
hear my wish and give advice."
 "Lady?", she snorted, "Well, listen I can, and most likely give advice 
as well."
 "Here."
She quickly crossed to the fireplace, carefully placed the wrapped cloth 
into the shamaness' hands, backed up, and kneeled. From closer by, the 
shamaness did not seem so frightening, and younger than Vebria would 
have guessed. She unwrapped the biscuits, sniffed one, and began 
nibbling on it. 
 "Well, what is it... Vebria? Daughter of Mavva, who holds her farm 
without a man? You are what, in your fifteenth summer?"
 "Sixteenth, actually. And I was born in the fall."
 "So... Has to do with boys, I'd wager?"
 "Yes. A boy, or young man. I--". Vebria summoned her courage; this was 
what she had come for. "I wish him to notice me, to make me pregnant 
with his child."
 "Hmmh. Most girls who build their courage to come here certainly want 
the first part, but not often the second. Or succeeded in the first part 
all on their own, and want the natural cause removed. You have some 
deeper reasons, I'd guess."
 "Yes. After the winter solstice, when you told the stories of hard 
times gone and coming, I had a dream. I foresaw hard times to come. I 
also saw the face of a young man, strong and handsome, one of the most 
popular in these lands, and saw that his child could protect me, my 
mother and our steading."
The shamaness sat up straighter, the sharp stare again in her eyes.
 "Hmm... this dream? What was in it?"
So then Vebria told all the details she could remember, and was able to 
recall a few more when the shamaness asked, until she felt her tongue 
thicken from her speech. Her host got up, fetched a mug, and quickly 
fixed her a drink, pouring hot water from a kettle hanging above the 
fire.
 "Here. Drink it."
Vebria sipped, feeling the liquid ease her hoarse throat.
 "Forgive me for making you talk so, but that was the first confirmation 
of some fears I've had for a while now."
The shamaness sat down, her eyes looking far beyond the walls of the 
hut, into unfathomable distance. Vebria, boldened by the warmth, decided 
to risk interrupting her thoughts.
 "Uh... shamaness, my wish?
 "Oh, yes... Hmm. You wish him to motice you? Stand up, and turn around 
slowly a few times."
After lighting a candle on the table, the shamaness sat between it and 
the fireplace to look more carefully at the girl. Although not ugly, 
Vebria had not much features to make her pretty either. Her hair, 
shoulder-length and a grayish blond, was matted and frizzled. Her skin 
was smooth but slightly sunken, the features of her face all just a bit 
too long or wide or thin. Her body, too, was lacking the roundness and 
curves that men so often found desirable, though her step was lively. 
Her clothes, a simple brown dress and hard leather shoes, showed the 
signs of hard work.
 "Mmm, yes. A man looking for a good help-mate on the farm would 
approve, but this boy is of the more flighty kind, I take it?"
 "Well, I suppose so. Thomas of the Three Alders. I know that half the 
girls around here want him to wed them, but I'll be happy with just the 
child."
Though slight, the blush on her face and the quickening of breath 
betrayed her.
 "Just? I'm guessing there's a bit more."
 "Well... if there's pleasure to be had, I won't mind."
 "Is the act really that unimportant to you?"
 "All right, yes, I want to make love to him. I have heard that he's 
rather good at it, and if I follow my mother's footsteps, there won't be 
many men who'll be safe and worth bedding. Satisfied?"
 "I just like people to be honest. Besides, if you do accept to my 
conditions of helping you, you may well be disappointed in your night 
with him."
 "Ah..."
 "Second thoughts?"
 "No... keeping mother and the farm safe are the real reason. I guess 
hoping for some joy along the way was too much."
 "Maybe, maybe not. Your chances in life are what you make of them. But, 
the deal. Are you ready to hear what I can offer?"
 "Yes, shamaness. Tell me what I must do."
As the shamaness began speaking, her voice sounded as if it suddenly 
came from farther away, and though the candle still shone, the hut 
seemed to become darker.
 "Very well. I can make you most fertile, to carry the child of any man 
you bed, and give you for one quarter cycle of the moon an appearance 
such that barring a most scalding tongue, that you should be able to woo 
him as well. Unless injury direct and terrible be done to you, the baby 
will be carried to term and be born healthy."
 "That sounds wonderful... but the cost?"
 "The story of your dream has paid a good deal of it, and for your 
kindness and manners I will also pay a share. But for the ritual, you 
shall collect a number of things. Come with them in twelve days, on the 
night of the full moon, and I will work the transformation upon you. 
But, you must forever hold silent upon what shall transpire that night, 
and you must trust me in what I do. Also, be warned that the pleasures 
of flesh may well be lost to you afterwards." 
Vebria sank into silence. After a moment, shorter than the shamaness 
would have guessed, she spoke.
 "Very well. I accept. Twelve days?"
With a slight smirk, the shamaness answered.
 "Indeed, just a few days before the midsummer dance, in time for you to 
get used to your body and ensnare the heart, or at least the loins, of a 
young man."
She continued in a sterner voice. 
 "So be it. The promise is made, the pact is sealed."
For a second, Vebria felt as if she were constricted. Then the feeling 
left, the hut seemed normally lit again, and the shamaness' voice no 
longer held a faint ring.
 "Now, there are not many ingredients, but you shall require some wits 
in collecting these..."

A dozen days later, Vebria once again approached the shamaness' 
clearing, this time carrying a large bucket and small sack. The things 
required were, she mused, all about equally burdensome to get here. The 
bucket, full of milk from her farm's most productive cow, was fresh and 
had been easily gained during the evening's milking, but her arms and 
hands were quite aching from carrying it over a mile. The other things, 
easy to carry, but harder to secure. She stopped again at the door, and 
knocked.
As the shamaness let her in, Vebria glanced around. The hut seemed much 
the same, maybe tidied a bit, but she could see no great magical items 
as she lifted the bucket on to a bench and placed the bag onto the 
table.
 "Here. What must I do next?"
 "Hmm... let's see. A piece of horn, yes... where did you get this 
from?"
 "It's from Brownbuck, over at Mapleshot. I heard he'd injured himself 
against the barn wall, and went to see. It is big enough?"
The sliver of horn, maybe two inches long and three-quarters thick, had 
been easy enough to haggle for, and Master Mapleshot had easily enough 
believed that she was going to fashion herself a pin from it.
 "Yes, it will do. And... well, many shorter hairs will do, though a 
single long one might've served better. From a comb of his?"
 "Yes."
Getting those had been harder. Thomas' sister had acquiesced after a 
long bout of wrangling, but luckily such a request was not the first. 
Still, since she never had anything to do with the shamaness, she 
probably would not guess what use the hairs were going for. The 
shamaness held up the last, a small vial she'd given Vebria the last 
time.
 "And... quite enough of your bleeding. If the time had not been right, 
other blood would have sufficed, but less pain and more potency this 
way. The gods are smiling upon you."
 "I am grateful, truly."
 "Well, time to prepare. This is not the working itself, yet, but begin 
to prepare yourself as you prepare the ingredients. After this, a maiden 
you shall be no longer, not by any degree. And there may well be pain, 
if all does not go well. As I said before, trust me and believe in me, 
and therefore you may find pleasure instead. Stay calm as long as you 
can. Now, your first task will be with the pestle."
The shamaness took the piece of horn and a small, sharp knife, and began 
carving. As the chips of bone gathered, she put them in a small mortar, 
and Vebria set to grind them. The bone was hard, and the big chips of 
horn she worked on first cracked alarmingly. Soon, though, she got used 
to it, and as the shamaness handed over smaller and smaller bits, the 
work became easier. From quick glances aside, she saw what was being a 
fashioned: a male organ, obviously, but the root end a sharp point, with 
two small barbs coming out of it, like an arrowhead. After giving her 
the last few small whittlings, the shamaness straightened up and 
streched her shoulders. 
 "Ahh, hard stuff. Still, good for the contrast, I suppose. Is it a 
fine dust?"
 "Yes, I think so. Will this do?"
 "Yes, quite good enough. Now, take this hairs of his, and tie the ends 
together, forming them into on long string."
As she begun tying the hair together with small knots, the shamaness 
then got up and began gathering a number of things from shelves and 
boxes around the hut. She took the leather lid off the bucket and 
carefully placed it at the center of the hut. Around it, she sprinkled 
a circle of fresh earth, smelling of summer growth.
 "Now, do not enter the circle, at least until we are done and fully 
spent. I have trained and prepared for this, and can handle the flows of 
life. You must remain the passive vessel of reception."
Vebria wasn't quite sure what the shamaness meant, so she just nodded 
and kept tying the hairs.
 "Very well, shamaness. Just, may I ask a small thing?"
 "Yes, though I may not answer."
 "Ahm, I just wondered, well, this magic we're doing..."
 "The weirds of the old, though yes, I'll allow that others call it 
magic."
 "Yes, well, in the stories, the wizards and-- other workers all use 
exotic ingredients, strange incenses, spirits of the stars and such...", 
her voice became shy, "and this seems... so commonplace."
 "Hah!", the shamaness snorted, her voice hard but not unfriendly, "the 
embellishments of the storytellers! What is needed is will, and 
relation, and belief. If they believe they need the Deathfire from the 
Ends of the Earth, then certainly they do. My craft I know, and the 
things close to home provided by Mother Earth serve quite well enough. 
Now, as, I said, believe in me, or nothing shall you gain except sorrow. 
Whence my change comes upon me, then shall you believe or quite possibly 
die."
Vebria quickly got to her work of tying the hairs, though her fingers 
shook. The w-- shamaness had warned her before, and now she must trust 
her. She quickly tied the last hairs as the shamaness muttered in some 
unknown tongue and sprinkled things into the bucket. 
 "Oh great shamaness, they are all tied together now."
 "Hmm, yes, good. Now, go sit upon the blanket until I tell you rise."
Vebria quickly rose, skirting the circle as far around as she could, and 
went to sit upon the blanket. It covered a thick pile of hay, and seemed 
quite soft. She gathered her arms around her knees, at watched carefully 
as the shamaness continued. First, she took the hairs, and tied them 
around the piece of bone, then mixed a small paste from the ingredients 
and rubbed that upon it as well. When she spoke, her voice, though not 
louder or deeper, somehow carried a good deal more force.
 "Now, we begin. Undress yourself."

After they had both taken their clothes off, the shamaness threw a last 
few unknown things into the bucket. She began to chant, and slowly walk 
around the bucket but staying within the circle. Gaining a look upon her 
from all sides, Vebria began to wonder what measures the shamaness had 
herself taken to improving her appearance. In the village, unkind 
persons called her crone and worse things, but her body was quite trim, 
her skin healthily tanned and her dark hair wavy, if perhaps a bit oily. 
Maybe it was just jealousy and the fear of those piercing golden eyes, 
for the shamaness certainly had a healthy look to her, better than 
Vebria herself.
After three rounds, the shamaness stopped, took the horn and pushed it 
into her belly, low, just above her womanhood. She grimaced slightly, 
but pushed it maybe a sixth of the way in, until it hung in her, kept 
partly by the hooks. A few drops of blood formed.
 "Ahh... now. Get ready. Though you need not drink as much as I do, a 
good deal it will still be. Prepare."
She then took the bucket, raised it to her lips, and began to drink. 
Vebria was first shocked -- the bucket held well over a gallon of 
milk. Nobody could drink such an amount in one standing. The shamaness 
seemed to have no problem, though, and as she slowly raised the bucket, 
Vebria began to shudder, both in fear and awe. Suddenly she noticed that 
although the shamaness was trembling, her breasts seemed strangely 
steady ... and growing. Their size at first had not been much, maybe 
slightly bigger than hers, easily cupped in two hands. Now, though, they 
were much bigger, and slowly increasing in size, strutting almost four 
inches out of her body. Still, the shamaness had not drunk yet more than 
a third of the milk.
A sudden quivering lower the caught her attention. The penis seemed no 
longer to be of bone, but pink flesh, and it too was growing, though 
very slowly. She raised her eyes, and was astounded by the breasts. They 
had grown so much, the round globes sticking at least five inches out 
from the shamaness' body, and were still expanding. The bucket had less 
than a quarter to go, and the shamaness was breathing heavily, making 
her absurdly large breasts heave gently. Quickly looking over her body 
otherwise, Vebria couldn't see much change -- maybe a slight rounding in 
other parts and a light dewing of sweat. For a moment she thought she 
saw horns on the shamaness' head, but it was just a trick of the light 
in her wavy hair. And still she kept drinking.
Finally, the shamaness drained the last drops from the bucket, and
carefully, bending at the knees, set it upon the floor. She got up, 
slowly shook herself, sending her breasts, now the size of small 
pumpkins, jiggling. Her cock, still increasing in size, was well over a 
hand long and two fingers wide. She squeezed her huge breasts, noted 
with satisfaction the small drops of milk that appeared, and turned to 
Vebria. 
 "Now, your turn to drink."

As the shamaness quickly crossed over the circle, Vebria stood up in 
wonder. She had hoped for changes, but this was a lot more than what she 
had wanted.
 "Ah, shamaness, you are indeed mighty..."
 "Fear not, your change shall be less extreme. Through the alchemy 
of my body, my milk shall change you. Now first, drink from my right 
breast!"
Although Vebria was wary, the closeness of the shamaness brought an 
intoxicating smell, and she placed her mouth upon the nipple. licking 
the dewdrops of milk away before she began to suckle. The shamaness 
guided Vebria's hand upon the breast, and they both began to knead it, 
pushing great gouts of milk into her mouth. The milk was warm, rich, and 
sweeter than any she tasted before, but also held a slight acrid taste. 
As Vebria gulped the milk down, she felt a strange tingling enter her 
body, descending down from her stomach to between her legs. She kept 
massaging the enormous breast, almost an udder, squeezing it from body 
towards the nipple, and the milk flowed into her. The shamaness crooned 
in satisfaction as Vebria hungrily sucked upon the shamaness' nipple, 
loving every drop of it. Soon, her whole lower abdomen was filled with a 
tingling feeling, and somehow... stretching? After having drunk what 
must have been over a pint of the milk, the stream finally slowed, and 
the shamaness guided her hand to the other breast.
 "Now, next, your skin, hair and face."
The shamaness carefully squeezed some milk from her left breast, and 
began spreading in on Vebria's cheek. Instead of a tingle, this brought 
a soft, velvety sensation, and when Vebria touched her cheek, it felt 
smooth as silk. 
 "Oh my!"
 "Indeed. Now, how much you want to cover is up to you, but I have 
enough for all of you."
They slowly began to spread the milk, now slightly thicker, all over he 
body. She exulted in the feeling as her skin turned smooth all over, as 
her hands turned from rough and calloused to refined and ladylike, the 
wondrous milk even turning her nails glossy and even. She could feel the 
dead scales of skin sloughing of her legs, and the hair turning from 
coarse to downy. Her face they dealed with more slowly, smoothing away 
all pores and pimples, rubbing the milk in the corners, taking off a 
patch of burn on her nose, and smoothing her lips, somehow making them 
plump as fresh berries. With great care they treated her hair, the milk 
untangling it from it's grayish frizzled state, closing all the split 
ends, and giving it volume and silkyness as it changed hue to a 
honey-blonde colour. She took a small amount into her mouth, washed it 
around her teeth, and had no thought to check from a mirror at home 
after the shamaness told her of her now-pearly teeth. At last, she felt 
over her body, wonderfully smooth, and feeling some wetness in between 
her legs. Something was missing, though, something she had somehow 
expected. Milking the still-huge left breast, she slowly covered her own 
breasts, wonderfully soft but quite small.
 "Ah, shamaness?"
 "The last part, young one. Some things must be done internally. Now, 
let me see..."

The shamaness knelt down, her massive breasts gently pushing against 
both sides of Vebria's hips. She slowly stuck her hand between Vebria's 
legs, tightening the fingers together and pushed them into her pussy.
 "Aah! Was... that your whole hand?"
 "Not quite, but it should do. You needed to be loosened for This."
She stood up, and only now did Vebria notice how large the shamaness'
dick had grown. It was well over a foot long, maybe two inches thick, 
and slowly pulsating.
 "Maybe we should get on the blanket."
Vebria backed a few steps, felt her ankles in the hay, and sat down, 
spreading her legs. She swallowed, nervously.
 "Are you sure it will fit?"
 "How large an area has did the milk you drunk affected?"
Vebria felt up, past her ribcage, brushing her breasts and sending a 
shiver in her pussy.
 "Maybe here."
 "Yes, it should do."
The shamaness took a few steps to her and slowly sat onto her heels, the 
tip of her huge, unnatural dick almost touching Vebria. Slowly, she 
penetrated into Vebria's pussy, the entering sending waves of heat and 
pleasure up and down her spine. Vebria watched in amazement as more 
and more of the shaft slipped into her, pushing in impossibly deep. As 
the shamaness entered, she leaned forward, crossing with her knees over 
Vebria's legs, placing them on the soft blanket, and continued until 
almost all of it was in.
 "Well, is it pain or pleasure, little one?"
 "Oh, definitely pleasure. Maybe a little pain."
 "Good. Now then, to fill up your roundness..."
The shamaness began to thrust her hips back and forth, sliding the 
thick, slippery rod in and out. Ecstasy filled Vebria, the pleasure of 
the strokes in her, coming and going, with a small pain as her body 
protested at the shaft going in unnatural places, even if her internals 
had been magically stretched to accommodate it. She grabbed at the 
shamaness' enormous breasts, first just squeezing them, drops of milk 
flying on her, then pulling herself up to her face, and kissing her. As 
her tongue entered the shamaness' mouth, touching her tongue, the 
intensity and strength of thrusts increased. Passionately kissing, 
twisting their tongues together, the shamaness' head pulled back and she 
cried out. Vebria felt a heat coming into her, spreading in a line 
between her breasts and buttocks. The fiery cries of then shamaness 
softened into words.
 "Now... the third... milk."
Vebria felt her chest tighten, and her breasts began to grow, as the 
shamaness kept thrusting, pumping more and more liquid heat into her. 
The heat seeked her breasts, and her rear, and sent tiny tendrils 
elsewhere as well. As her breasts grew, more slowly than when the 
shamaness had filled hers with milk, Vebria could feel her body molding, 
soft curves flowing into place all over. Her nipples darkened, became 
erect and hot, and though not stopping her pounding, the shamaness began 
to rub them, pulling them slightly, as if inviting them to keep growing. 
Vebria stroked her smooth fingers all over her body, feeling the firm 
roundess, the smooth skin being slightly raised, bones disappearing 
under a thin layer of softness. Even though her own touch brought such 
pleasure, she soon reached up again and began massaging the huge 
breasts. She kneaded them pulling out small streams of milk, spread it 
around her body or drank it, them milked the pair some more. The 
shamaness kept plunging the dick into her, ramming their crotches 
together, pushing in the heat that made Vebria feel so alive, made her 
feel beautiful. Everything was made hazy by the continuous overload of 
sensations, the softness of their bodies molding against each other, a
endless orgasm burning the hope of ever feeling such ecstasy again.
She had no idea how long this lasted, but slowly the flow of milk ebbed, 
her own breasts, now the size of large apples, feeling only warm, and 
she regained a more normal consciousness. Slowly, the shamaness lay down 
next to her, almost toppling in exhaustion. Sweet sleep claimed them.

The next morning, Vebria woke, covered my a light cloth. She recalled 
almost waking up, hearing some strange mumbling in the predawn light, 
but now the shamaness was sitting at the table, looking as she always 
had, seemingly talking to a squirrel. She coughed.
 "Uhm... good morning."
 "And the same to you."
The shamaness made some clicking sounds at the squirrel, which bounded 
out of the room in short hops.
 "Are you feeling well? Everything in place?"
 "I think so..."
Vebria got up, almost fell, but regained her balance. Her body WAS 
somewhat different. She took a few swaying steps to the table.
 "Yes, that looks a much more feminine walk. No headache or anything?"
Vebria carefully shook her head, but everything seemed to be alright. 
She walked around the hut, getting used to the feel of her body's 
changes.
 "Yes, I feel well. Better than ever, in some ways."
 "Good, then. Now, as I said, the changes will last until the waning 
moon is halved, then slough off in three days. You should probably try 
to rest as much as you can during that time."
 "I will."
 "Good. Now, are you hungry? I can offer some porridge, though it has 
cooled."
 "Oh, a thousand thanks, but I somehow don't feel especially hungry. 
I think I should go home; no doubt there's a good row waiting, but I'll 
survive. I'm just not sure I can ever thank you enough."
 "Well... there is one more thing. Once you have given birth and chosen 
a name for the boy, bring him here, and I shall name him. Protect you 
and yours he shall, but other tasks as well await him..."