A Wish Too Far (Patreon)

As soon as it didn’t matter if she continued, Maebh stopped sneezing immediately. “Ub course,” she muttered, sniffling.

“Oh, no, no, no,” Shawn said. “No, no, no!” She lay on her back on the other side of the room with her knees in the air and her hands on the bulges emerging from her t-shirt which had been pushed up around her neck by the expansion. A mass of fluffy curls surrounded her, flowing onto the bed and seeming to cascade to the floor in a sort of blond waterfall.

Maebh had an interesting view of the pantyless new girl. “Siobhan! Girl, put your knees together!”

Shawn put her knees together and pulled her heels up, too, rolling sideways to see where the tiny voice she heard had come from. At first, she didn’t see the much shrunken fairy but the shimmer of her wings (she still had them and some of her other magical powers, just not the ability to grant wishes or alter her own form or that of others anymore) gave Maebh away.

“You!” Shawn squealed. Her voice had changed again, too; she thought she now sounded a bit like Betty Boop. “You did this to me!” she piped, snatching at the fairy but Maebh flitted easily away. Hardly more than an inch tall, with wings and supernatural elusiveness, she made a very poor target for a grab.

“Not exactly, I mean, I didn’t start it,” Maeve protested, hovering in mid-air about six inches higher than Shawn could reach.

“Lookit me!” Shawn wailed. She pulled herself up to stand beside the bed, a bit over five-feet tall now and with a very impressive bosom. Her blond curls stood out around her face like an explosion in a poodle factory and her blue eyes seemed enormous in a kewpie-doll-like heart-shaped face. She tried to pull her t-shirt down over her new enhancements.

Maeve winced but could not hide her grin. “Well,” she said, “sure it is that someone has done something drastic to you, girl.”

“That’s just it,” said Shawn, her voice pleading. “I’m not s’posed to be a girl. ‘Specially not a girl who looks like this! Change me back, you’re some kinda magic person. You can change me back, can’t you?” She stepped closer to the fairy, her enlarged breasts jiggling under the straining t-shirt, her eyes filling with tears again.

“Um,” said Maeve, herself so tiny now. “Wow.” It was like looking at fat porpoises swimming below the surface of a white sea.

“Please?” said Shawn. She had to keep tugging on the shirt to keep it from becoming just a collar.

“I can’t, and I’m not the one who changed you into a girl….”

“Why not?!” Shawn interrupted, wringing her hands and causing more jiggling. The shirt surrendered to the levity of the situation and two pink globes bounced to freedom.

“Stop that!” said Maeve. “It’s distracting!”

Shawn stopped waving her hands and settled for whimpering and making a pitiful expression.

Maeve turned her back, still hovering in mid-air. “I didn’t do it, at least, not the first transformation,” she explained. “That was some wish you made years ago that finally caught up with you.”

“What?” Shawn fairly yipped. “I wished for this years ago?” She looked down at her bulges. “No, I dinnit! There’s some kinda mistake!”

“Probably,” agreed Maeve. “But you’re stuck like that, at least until my magic comes back, then I might be able to do something.”

“You’re flying,” Shawn pointed out, “isn’t that magic?”.

“Well, yes,” said Maeve, “but not the right kind. Flying and turning invisible are just fairy powers; bigger magic needs more, uh, oomph.” She couldn’t explain thaumaturgy because she frankly had not studied it herself more than necessary. And now, what knowledge she did have of the subject had gotten sort of misty.

“What happened to your oomph?” Shawn frowned at the tiny fae.

“I had to send it away while I was sneezing, but it’ll come back,” said Maeve. She hoped.

“Soon?” asked Shawn.

“Pretty soon.”

Shawn looked stricken. “How soon?”

“I don’t know,” admitted Maeve. “Could be a few hours, could be a month or two, but not longer than that.” Maeve crossed two of her teeny little fingers behind her back as protection against jinxing her recovery of her spellcasting abilities. Fairies being immortal, they actually had rather tenuous grasps on the concept of lengths of time.

“Aaa-iii-eee-hhh!” Shawn set up a wailing and weeping, that caused Maeve to immediately cover her ears. “Lookit me!” Shawn blubbered, pulling her own hair, pushing at her breasts and waving her hands generally at herself. “Wattamahgonnado-oo-oo!”

“Stop that noise!” Maeve ordered.

Shawn stopped wailing but continued the sobbing. “I’m s’posed to catch a plane to go home. I dunt have any clothes that fit, they won’t take my ticket ‘cause I dunt have no… no… no card with my pitcher on it. Not that looks like me now!” she whimpered.

Maeve sighed. While she had been planning a bit of mischief at Shawn’s expense, she didn’t feel responsible for all of the new girl’s problems. The other fairies had left Shawn in a predicament and Maeve’s wild magic while sneezing had made it worse.

And yet, there was something appealing and innocent about the pretty young mortal. Still, Maeve had removed most of her own magical abilities and there was little she could do. She made a face, Shawn’s crying had begun to get on her nerves.

Besides, she hated to tell the girl but her initial transformation had been the result of what was called a True Wish, one of the rare favors granted by fairy nobility to people descended from certain bloodlines who had been friends with the fairies from times unremembered by modern mortals. True Wishes could be made only on certain occasions and in certain circumstances and Maeve was no expert in the jurisprudence of the Fairy Court.

It might, in fact, take a Royal Fairy Decree to restore Shawn to whatever degree of manliness she might once have possessed. Looking at her, now with an extreme hourglass figure, a piquant, pixie-ish face and curly blond hair down past her waist, it was hard to conceive that she had ever been male at all.

Shawn wiped her eyes and nose with the t-shirt which was all she was wearing. “I’m just screwed, huh?” she said, sniffling.

“Don’t be vulgar,” said Maeve and Shawn nodded miserably. 

About that time, they both heard the front door downstairs being opened.

“Fudge!” said Shawn.

One Burglar Too Early

John Thomas Parker III, known as Tom because his father was John and his older brother was Jack, had never set out to be a burglar. It just kind of happened. He needed money and people kept leaving their doors unlocked or inadequately locked. Plus, it was almost shameful what some people sold as home security hardware. Sometimes Tom thought of his activities as educational. But the fact was, he got a huge kick out of being somewhere he shouldn’t have been.

Like this place – nice suburban home rented out to college students – after graduation with no one home and an insubstantial lock on the door. It would be positively criminal to ignore such an opportunity. Of course, it would be legalistically criminal to take advantage of it, but it was much too late to worry about that sort of thing.

He slipped inside the inadequately locked front door and looked around, pausing to listen, too. He didn’t hear anything so he set out to explore. There might be silverware or expensive copper pots in the kitchen, or a coin or stamp collection in the den, or a safe behind the stuffed wildcat on the shelf above the television. In his experience, safes were sometimes left unlocked, too, or if a combination was needed, it might be hidden somewhere nearby. He smiled in anticipation.

The kitchen yielded nothing but $37.51 in the cookie jar. He left the change after stuffing the bills into a sack he carried, moving on to the dining room where he snagged an ornamental miniature silver tea set. The thimble sized cups were about the right size to make massive wassail bowls for Maebh now but he didn’t know her – yet.

He found the stairs and started up; people left the oddest things behind sometimes when they moved out of somewhere.

***

“Whosit?” asked Shawn after Maebh returned from scouting out their visitor.

“Dunno,” said Maebh. “A burglar, maybe. He’s putting nice things into a bag.”

“Those are Mrs. Thomas’s nice things,” said Shawn. “You should turn him into a mouse or sumpin’.”

“I can’t turn anyone into anything, I told you. I’ve only got ordinary everyday sort of magic, not big spells. Just the ability to fly and stuff like that.”

“Like what? What else can you do?”

Maebh waved the question away. “He’s coming upstairs.” They both heard Tom’s steps in the stairwell.

Shawn pulled her t-shirt down again. “What...what are we gonna do?”

Maebh looked at her a moment. “Maybe you should put something on besides men’s underwear. Even a burglar could get the wrong idea, seeing you dressed like that.”

“Eep,” said Shawn in a voice not much bigger than Maebh’s. “But I don’t have any clothes ‘cept my old ones.”

“Among my abilities that don’t require real magic is clothing,” said Maebh. She glanced at Shawn’s feet. “And shoes, you need shoes, too. I can make almost anything out of cloth and leather and a few bits of metal.”

Shawn looked down, too, leaning forward a bit so she could see her feet. Her prominent chest caught her attention. She sniffled. “I guess I’m gonna need a bra.”

“Never,” said Maebh. “We’ll make a bustier for you. Much healthier and sexier, too. What’s in the bag?” she asked, flying over the duffle that male Shawn had packed.

“My stuff….”

Maebh rubbed her tiny palms together then blew on them. “Raw material,” she said, grinning.

***

Tom reached the top of the staircase, moving silently for such a big guy through force of habit. Learning to be quiet sort of came with the job, even when he supposed that the house he was in was completely empty.

As soon as he could see the upper hallway, he took it all in before climbing the last few steps. He debated turning around and leaving; having done this more than a few times, he had the feeling someone else was still in the house. Of course, the two times he had ignored this feeling, he hadn’t found anyone in the house after all.

Still, his confidence drained away and he worried about being found out by someone still in the house. Worse yet, what if they had called the police already?

***

“‘Stead of gettin’ dressed, maybe I should call the cops first? Th-there’s a burglar inna house,” Shawn stammered.

Maebh knew perfectly well what ‘cops’ were but any kind of authorities did not fit into her plans. She had a victim and she intended to have some fun. “You don’t want to do that,” she said, opening the big duffle. “How are you going to explain being here yourself?”

Shawn looked as if she were about to cry but Maebh didn’t notice; the tiny fairy had disappeared into the leather and canvas dufflebag. Two pair of denim pants in different shades of blue erupted from the top of the bag followed by Maebh. “Lovely stuff,” she said to herself.

Shawn stood in front of the mirror, holding her shirt down with one hand and pulling at her hair with the other. “Can you cut hair?” she asked.

Maebh shook her head, “You don’t want to cut magically grown hair until a week after the change of the moon; it’ll just grow back, probably longer.”

“But I look like a danny-line,” Shawn complained.

“I’ll braid it,” Maebh promised. “Now hold your hands away from your shirt, I’m going to re-weave it into something that fits your shape.” 

The little fairy flew around Shawn in a blur, re-making the t-shirt into a strapless, figure-hugging chemise and a pair of hi-cut panties. The chemise had laces in the back which Maebh tied with satisfaction.

Shawn stared at herself in the mirror again. “Wow,” she breathed. Then she frowned. Seeing a gorgeous nearly naked girl in the mirror was one sort of shock; a second sort was a confused reaction to watching her nipples tighten and make little tents in the fabric.

* * *

Am I hearing bells? Tom wondered. He stood on the landing at the top of the stairs from the living room and dithered. He heard something, he just wasn’t sure what it was or even if it were real. There were seven doors in the hall and at the far end, he could see the narrower stairway that probably led down to the utility room between the kitchen and garage. The door next to that was probably the bathroom.

A window to his left, another at the end of the hall and a skylight above the stairs gave plenty of light. No ominous shadows but something was spooking him.

Three doors on this side, four on the other, he told himself. Gotta check them all. He decided to start with the door across the hall from the stairs, which was Shawn’s room.

But then he changed his mind and turned to his right.

One Bustiér Too Tight

Maebh put the finishing touches on Shawn’s costume. A denim dress with a built-in leather bustier-style top pushed up the new girl’s abundance which was modestly but only partly concealed by the lacy chemise underneath. Fake leather pockets somehow emphasized Shawn’s curves, and square-toed half-boots also of denim and leather with two-inch clunky heels gave her a touch more height but respected her unfamiliarity with any sort of heel. Her hair had been tamed as well; confined in braids and denim bows, it still made a mass of blonde glory around her face and fell nearly to her waist.

“There,” said Maebh hovering beside Shawn while they both looked in the mirror. “You look presentable, even fashionable for this area of the world.”

“I dunno,” said Shawn pouting at her reflection, “it dint hafta be a dress, did it?”

Maebh ignored the complaint. “I can do jewelry, too. But metals are harder to work with and I never put the effort into mastering that skill. I’ll have to do some thinking on what to choose, something simple but worth the time and bother.”

Shawn rolled her eyes. “I guess at least I’m not gonna get ‘rrested.”

Maebh blinked. “Why? Are you tired?”

“No? Just if any cops see me, I won’t be nekkit. That’s better, huh?”

“Sure,” said Maebh.

Shawn tugged at the top of the bustiér, “Does it havta be so tight?”

Maebh, nodded. “Oh, yes. If we don’t keep the livestock penned up, we might have a stampede.”

“Huh?”

“You’re a bit overbuilt, hon,” said Maebh. “Like a silk petticoat with extra flounces. You’re going to attract attention enough already, no point in adding animation.”

“I dunno what a flounce is!” Shawn protested. “Not that kinda flounce.”

“Sorry,” said Maebh. “A layer of fabric added to create more volume.”

“Volume,” Shawn repeated, looking down at herself. “Well, I gots plenty of that.” She sniffed back a rueful giggle. “I’m built like a brick outhouse.”