Intoxiton
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Proper Young Ladies
🕑 Added 2021-08-14 11:05:48 +0000 UTCShe'd exercised this exact manner of power hundreds if not a thousand times by this point. And yet, the sorceress could not help but grin at the dominance she held over these three, smile plastered on her face every bit as broadly and involuntarily as it had been the very first time she'd turned her talents upon a Mundane.
Aurora-esque lights danced in her palms, gently drifting just as she did with her arcane motions. The three men's gazes followed along flawlessly, equal parts frozen in fear at the unknown and mesmerized by the beauty of it. Her mask of victimhood at their 'game' had long since melted away; now she was firmly in control and playing a game of her own.
"Now then." She licked her lips, smile snowballing into a smirk as she readied her pre-transformation spiel for the hundredsomethingth time.
"If you three have no intention of being gentlemen..."
She rolled her wrists without any purpose beyond theatrics. Her hands and the motes of magic flicked back and forth, and she savored their eyes glued to them.
"...then we'll just have to make proper young ladies out of you!"
All three flinched at her splaying her fingers forth, loosing the magic. Wispy tendrils of chromatic essence twisted and twirled a foot into the air, the hopelessly alien nature disguising the notion that it was no more than a substanceless bit of literal flash. Seals of the same rainbow hues were the real focus, etching themselves beneath and all around each member of the trio.
If she'd possessed one regret, it would have definitely been how rapidly the incantation worked its effects. Vivid pillars of light erupted from the grounded emblems to the tune of an exotic buzz, shooting upward as colossal predatory jaws would, snapping shut around them instantaneously. She could not savor their transformations or even witness them, her smirk slightly dented by the abrupt brightness of the spell.
But she knew how it went—how it felt: A million prickly hands kneading them, sensuously resculpting the three into the fairer sex, only for a million more to simultaneously and less delicately compress them, pushing them inward and downward, squeezing away decades of their ages. A sinking feeling was their only clue amidst the blinding instant they shrunk, faces temporarily buried in their shirts as their height dropped faster than gravity itself. Splashes of color washed and flashed over them and their skin, eyes, and hair ever so slightly altered in color, with the latter lengthening to boot.
All in all, the remolding of their fates took less than a single second. The magic had exploded forth, then came a blinding triad of lights, and then it fizzled away to the sight of three young girls standing in men's clothing, tops and bottoms billowing ever so briefly, struggling to keep pace with their delicate, shrunken frames.
Blinding lights gave way to colored spots gradually fading from from the girls' eyes, their vision setting back in along with the crashing torrent of a few thousand sensations and realizations. At this point, surprise effected itself upon the sorceress too, at the near-comically delayed realization of how young the left girl had been rendered. The full extent of the de-aging was purely and solely up to her capricious discretion, and she had opted for one and a half cycles—about 20.5 years. Her error was purely human, in that she grossly overestimated his age at around 30 like the others evidently were.
Innocent errors aside, they had arrived at what was indisputably her favorite part. Every girl reacted to her unanticipated gift differently. Once more she found her lips curling upward, preparing to bask in their bewilderment, to feast upon their raw emotions.
To relish the defeated, unmistakable realization in their eyes, blooming in their pretty little heads, that they were going to become proper young ladies.
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Sketch-ish render (experimenting with cloth dynamics with shrinking) that turned into me writing more than intended.
