"...a potion!"
There was trepidation in Tom's voice as he held up his find: glass flask stopped by an aged cork. Inside was a blood-red liquid, bubbles percolating through it. Sam stared, mesmerised for a moment at the play of light off them as they rose and softly popped against the sides of the flask, endlessly replaced. Then he shook his head.
"Let me see it," he said, quickly taking it from Tom's shaking head. He looked it over; there was no label. He glanced at the alcove Tom had taken it from; there was nothing there either. All he could tell, besides appearance, was that i felt strangely warm. He grimaced.
"It could just be a trap..."
Something slammed into the door, followed by a guttural roar. The boys jumped.
"Well either drink it or don't!" Tom snapped. "There's no time!"
Sam didn't hesitate further, wrenching out the cork with a pop and the sound of fizzing. At least the potion was still active. Whatever it was.
It's definitely a trap, he thought as he put it to his lips. But it might help him save his friend even if it doomed him. But he forgot his qualms, forgot everything as the liquid hit his tongue. His eyes widened; it was delicious! It was a mixture of savoury and sweet with a bit of tang, acidic or even alcoholic; the flavour of meat richly sauced blended with a fruity wine. Greedily he gulped the contents of the flask down, relishing the taste and the warmth as it ran down his throat into his stomach.
"Oh!" He cried out in sudden pain at the same time as the doors shuddered again. cracks appearing in the torch holding them closed. It felt as if he had stabbed in the heart, and he clutched at his chest and staggered as an icy chill swept through him. His skin grew pale, cold sweat breaking out across goosebumped flesh. The empty flask fell to the floor, the thick glass cracking but not breaking. "Ohhh..." The fear returned in a rush of panic; and he realised he couldn't feel his heartbeat.
Am I dying?
!!!
He caught his breath as something pulsed through him. Pushing the heat of the potion from his stomach, driving away the cold. He straightened; drew a deep breath as he felt it pumping through him second by second.
Heat... blood... life...
Arousal...
Power...
"Ohhhhh..."
This time his moan was low and sultry, but higher-pitched as his Adam's apple smoothed away. His lips grew plump and dark with rouge, a striking contrast to his pallor. A pallor that shifted from that of death to aristocratic porcelain, every blemish whisking away, together with all his coarse body hair. Meanwhile the hair on his head grew longer, fading to pale blue as it fell in silken tress to his shoulders, bangs shadowing his forehead and framing his narrowing face. Within the elegant cascade, his ears took on slight points. As did his canines, hidden behind his ruby lips.
His clothing dissolved into whirls of red and black smoke, leaving his smooth body naked. But he felt no shame, nor any fear as his old identity spiralling away as well, replaced by a welling feeling of pride.
His cock sprang free as his underwear vanished, but as soon as it did it began to retract. He saw his arms grow slim; his hands slender and elegant; nails growing to long, glossy points of red. He felt his nipples engorge as his ballsack split into thick, engorged lips and his nuts were sucked back into his slick vagina, eliciting another moan of desire and approval. His -- no, her cock settled snugly down into its new hood, now a pulsing, sensitive clitoris. Her breasts pushed out into her field of vision, swelling to pale, perfect globes of flesh like twin moons rising with her panting, capped by delicate pink areolae and proud nipples.
Below them her core tightened from that of a lanky male teen to an athletic mature woman. Drawing in, contrasting her full chest and expanding hips. Around her forming pussy her thighs grew plush and smooth, tapering down to powerful calves and deceptively dainty feet, her nails becoming manicured and painted in blood red to match her fingernails and lips.
"Ahhhh." She brought her hands to her bosom as she flexed her narrow, sculpted shoulders and subtly stretched, her bones popped softly as she settled into a seductive new female posture, her spine curving to help her show off her breasts, impossibly firm and perky despite their great size. She knew, without looking, that Tom's eyes were glued on her, and she reveled in his attention, knowing how her voluptuous transformation held him spellbound.
And as if in response, the smoke around her spun away for a second, letting the boy stare at his friend. "Perfect" was all his mind could think of as his eyes traced her naked form, from her blue hair to her feminine feet; taking in her smooth, dripping pussy, generous curves and her slender hands cupping her mind-breaking breasts.
Then the smoke swirled down around her again, forming first into a lacy set of black lingerie, as well as stockings and gloves. Heels appeared over her feet, red patterns decorating the sleek black leather. Then a long black gown, the bodice fronted in red and held with golden chains; the skirt long and flared around her legs behind, roses embroidering around the hem; but barely covering her loins in front. A white cravat formed, its ruffles laying across the bust straining lightly against bra and gown. Then, to top it all, a long black cloak, lined with red, held by clasps of gold, a collar as tall as her head framing her features; as well as more rose-themed accesories and ornaments accenting her figure.
Tom could only gape, the after-image of her naked beauty still seared in his brain, but now overwhelmed with the dark splendour that now veiled it.
"Sam?" he whispered.
The new woman smiled faintly, and laughed a little, then raised her face to look at him. He was instantly transfixed as her eyes met his: they were glowing crimson, filled with predatory confidence and a deep hunger. His stomach fluttered, but his feelings of fear for himself and for his friend seemed distant, unimportant next to the fascination of her gaze.
Sam ran her tongue across her hidden fangs as her gaze met Tom's. She saw him swallow, pale in fear; but he could not look away from her. She could see his erection, smell his blood, feel his life. She shook her head.
"No," she replied, though she spoke to herself as much as to him. She had become something other than human, something more. And a fitting new name came to her, together with dark new thoughts. "I am 'Sam' no more. I am... Lady Sangria."
She might have said more, but at that moment the doors behind her exploded inwards with a shower of splinters and another bellowed roar. Sangria spun smoothly around, gesturing, and the splinters shied away from her. The minotaur charged in, then paused, nostrils flaring as he took in the scene and the strange scent of the newly turned vampire. Tom meanwhile almost collapsed as he was released from her burning gaze.