A Wizard’s Tale

by

Steve Palmer

ONCE UPON A time there was a beautiful young maiden named Celeste who lived in a tiny village on the side of a mist-shrouded mountain.  The little town thought itself very fortunate to be able to boast of a resident as lovely as Celeste, and every passing stranger who saw her always asked about such a rapturously gorgeous girl.

Celeste however, like most comely females, did not judge herself to be so attractive.  Though she did consider her countenance to be pleasant enough, she dearly longed for great, full breasts like her late mother’s.  To Celeste, her mother was the essence of beauty, and her bounteous bosom embodied her selfless love.  Celeste would sometimes draw her curtains and stand before the mirror bare to the waist, and imagine herself with magnificent, thrusting teats.

Very near the top of the mountain, lived a wizard named Zostus.  Zostus loved Celeste from afar and often watched her, using various cunning wizardly devices.  Wizards of his order were forbidden to marry, but his heart burned for her.  Year after year he would observe her comings and goings, secretly helping her here and there with a bit of magical good fortune.  He also took care to ward off any young would-be suitors that looked her way, speaking a spell of distraction or malodor to turn them away.  In his jealousy he reasoned that if he could not have her himself, then no other should.

One fine spring day the wizard looked into his scrying glass, and to his fearful delight, he saw Celeste climbing up the mountain slope toward his little house.  He rushed out the door and stood upon an outcropping of granite that protruded out over the hillside, affording him a commanding view.

There she was.  He had seen her in the flesh only on rare occasions; mostly he saw her through some orifice of his magic arts.  He spied thus upon her even at those times, he would be ashamed to admit, when she looked at her nakedness in the mirror (though he knew not why she did so, since he had no means of discerning her thoughts).

He sat down on the rock and watched her make her way upward.  After a time, he realized that her course was unswervingly taking her directly to him.  He stood up suddenly.  He could not think what to do.  He was not prepared to face his dream wide awake.  “What a powerful wizard,” he thought, chiding himself.  “Able to best the fiercest dragon, but helpless before a young girl.”  He went inside his house, closed the door, and peered once more into his glass.  As the minutes passed, she drew ever more surely toward his door.  When he saw her set foot upon his path, he hurriedly put the scrying glass back on the shelf and sat down in his chair.

Finally her knock sounded.  “Who is it?” he said, trying to sound powerful and irritated.

“My name is Celeste, great sir.  I am from the village.”

His heart was near bursting.  He had never before spoken with her.  He could barely speak and found himself unable to further pretend disinterest in her.  He opened the door and stood face to face with this most beautiful creature.  “And what do you want with me, young lady?”

“I have come to ask a service of you, kind sir.”

“What service is this?  Am I a hireling?”  (A good wizard is always careful to instill awe in those he deals with, since expectation is a fertile soil from which magic can sprout.)

“I pray thee, do not take offense, O wizard; I mean no disrespect.  I have come to ask that you grant my heart’s fondest wish.”

“Only that?” he said with gleam in his eye.  She smiled at his jest and relaxed somewhat.  “Come in and sit, lass.”

He stepped aside, basking in her closeness as she passed him.  Leaving the door open for propriety’s sake (though there was no one about for miles) he indicated a seat for her to take and then sat in his own Wizard’s Chair.

Sitting opposite him, she looked at him squarely for a long moment and finally said, “I thought you would be older.”

“You are correct; I will be.”  Again, he saw that she appreciated his humour.  “Now what is this thing you would have me do?”

“Well sir, I have no suitors.  None.”  Zostus felt a chill of guilt wash over him.  “And I know in my heart that young men would come calling on me if only - ” blushing, she looked to the floor.

“Continue, friend.  There are no secrets from a wizard, you know.”

She raised her face to him again, smiling wanly.  “If only I were - more buxom.”

He desired to tell her no: that she was perfection, that the only reason she had no suitors was his own selfishness.  But he could not.  He wanted this moment to last forever.  “More buxom?” he asked, feigning a lack of comprehension in order to buy time to collect himself.

“Yes, sir.  I know that if I had grand big breasts, I could have a man.”

“Dear child, I - that is,” he stammered, “what would you give in return for this boon?”

“Anything you ask of me, sir, for I am a lonely woman.”  He nearly wept at this, and could do nothing but nod his agreement.  Her eyes lit up at this.  “How soon can you be ready to work your magic, great wizard?”

“I am ready now, if you are.”

“Begin, then, if you please.”

The wizard opened one of his large books and found the proper entry.  Then he began going back and forth from the book to his apothecary, looking up the name of each ingredient and then pulling it from its shelf.  After several minutes, the mixture was ready.  “Now, lass,”  Zostus began sternly, “exactly how much bigger would you like to be?  Think about your answer carefully, because there is no undoing what I am about to work on you!”

“I have given this question much thought, sir.  I know without doubt that I wish to have the largest bosom that any man has ever seen!”

The wizard frowned, letting his reservation show plainly on his face.  “Very well.  Drink this much then,” he said, pouring a thick, muddy brown mixture into a wooden cup from the large crucible.

“Will it taste as bad as it looks?” she asked with a pained look.

“Worse.”

Hesitating somewhat, she took the cup and sipped.  She nearly gagged as she drank, and was compelled to rest between drinks, but she eventually consumed the entire dosage.

“Now what happens, wizard?”

“We wait.  If the spell has worked, we will know in a few minutes.”

“Would you be so kind as to give me something sweet to drink, that I may rinse this awful taste from my mouth?”

“Sweet?  I fear I keep no sweet drink.”

“Even water will do.”

“Yes, water I have.  Stay you in that chair and rest whilst I fetch it.  The potion works more quickly when the subject is relaxed.”

“You’ve given this to someone before?”

“No,” he said sheepishly.  “That is what the book says.  I will return in a moment.”

She watched him go out the door to his well.  Once he was gone, she leaned over and clutched the large crucible with the remainder of the potion in it, and holding her breath, drank it down every drop.  She nearly lost it all, but when the wizard returned, she was sitting just as she had been.  He handed her the tin ladle and she gulped down the cool pure well water.

“Many thanks, kind sir.”

He took a piece of string out of one of his pockets, held it up to the light and nodded.  “If you would stand for a moment, my dear, I will take a measurement in order to gauge our progress.”

She wasn’t quite sure what he meant, but she got up from the chair.  Zostus reached behind her, took one end of the string and drew it across her bust.  This familiarity surprised and somewhat shocked Celeste, but it was the closest thing to a man’s touch she had yet known, and it pleased her as well.  He pinched the string where it crossed the fullest part of her bosom, and let go of the end.  Taking his quill out of its well, he made a mark at the place and set it aside.

“You may sit again,” he commented, as he himself also sat.

“How long does this take?”

“I haven’t any notion, my dear.  Alert me if thy raiment becomes tighter.”

“I shall.”

They sat in silence for a while, and then began chatting to pass the time.  This was a dream come true for Zostus, just to talk casually with this lovely young woman, and he discreetly savored it.

After nearly a half-hour, Celeste looked down at her chest and said, “I think it is working!”

The wizard got up, motioning for her to do so as well.  Wrapping the string around her bodice, he nodded and held it up for her to see.  “This mark is the girth of your bust originally, and where I am holding it is thy present girth.”

“It begins?”

“Yes,” he said smiling at her child-like enthusiasm.  “Sit back down now, and wait for it to do its work.”

They sat a few minutes more, and the girl commented, “I can truly feel myself changing now.  My blouse has become very tight.  I think it is...”

Her words were cut short by the sound of tearing cloth.  She gasped and sat up, thrusting her chest forward to have a look.  For the first time, the difference was dramatically visible.  Her bosom bulged under her clothes as it had never before.  Celeste was half panic stricken, half overjoyed by what was happening.  Before she could speak, there was another loud rip, and her blouse burst asunder, exposing her newly enlarged breasts.  Wiggling about, they played hide-and-seek with the tatters of her shirt until, still growing, they became too big to hide.  Zostus stared at her in wonder.  Never before had he seen a woman’s bare bosom.  Such beauty!  Her breasts continued to swell, pulsating and throbbing as they did.  Soon they had grown to an incredible size, bulging from her chest magnificently, larger than prize fall pumpkins.

“You are a wizard indeed, sir!  Certainly no woman has ever been so buxom as I now am,” she said as she sat in the chair unabashedly stroking the surface of her enormous breasts that were by now so big that they rested on her lap.

“True, the magic has worked, but why has it not stopped its work?  You are surely as big as a woman could ever be, yet your teats continue to wax!”

She looked up at him where he stood before her.  There was shame in her face.  “Did you truly give me a dose sufficient to cause this growth, sir?”

“Aye!”

A cloud came across her face.  “Then I have misjudged you.”

“How so?”

“I mistook that you gave me a lesser dose in accordance with your own misgivings about my desire to be so big breasted, so I drank more.”

“More!”  He grabbed the crucible and peered into it with a cry.  “Child!  Say you did not drain this!”

“I did.”

“Well then,” he said with a sigh of resignation, “you shall indeed have the largest bosom that any man has ever seen.”

“Then so shall it be!” she said, standing.  “Let these paps swell to a size greater than the mind can bear!  I yearn for such teats, master.  I would welcome breasts so large that a grown man could not lift one of them!  Then mayhap a suitor will take note of me!”  At this, her defiance turned to grief and she sat back down, weeping.

Zostus took pity upon her, his own guilt burning within him, and went to comfort her.  Standing beside her, he stroked her hair, “Calm thyself, friend.  Thou art truly the most comely lass these eyes have seen.”

“You are too kind, sir,” she said through tears.

“Not so.  I speak the truth.  Surely some evil magic hinders thee in finding a man,” he said, travailing in his soul for how truly indeed he spoke.

As he stood next to her, he could not prevent his eyes from fixing upon her swelling bosom.  Her breasts were indeed still throbbing and expanding, bulging out beyond her lap and expanding ever outward.  Something in him rejoiced at their beauty, so much the more as they increased.  She leaned toward him and rested her head against his side as her weeping began to subside.

Taking his hand in her own, she said, “Forgive me, sir.  I behave unseemingly.”

“Nonsense, child,” he murmured, holding back his own tears.

“Verily, I am receiving my heart’s desire at this moment and yet I can only weep.”

“Often our heart’s true desire is not what we think it is,” he said ruefully.

“This I know is so.  You are a wise wizard.”

“Not so wise, milady.”

The lass yawned, and stretched, thrusting her burgeoning bosom out before her, knowing not the yearning that the sight stirred within Zostus. “I grow sleepy,” she said.

“It is the potion.  It saps energy from the body for growth.  Would you lie down?”

“Aye, master.  That would be so pleasant.”

He helped her stand, struggling against the unaccustomed weight of her expanding breasts.  She was unabashed at being bare chested in the presence of the wizard, regarding him as one would a physician.  As she stood, her enormous bosom dipped and rebounded weightily, swaying to and fro.  Zostus felt his manhood stir and hoped his wizard’s robe was sufficient to conceal this development.

He led her around a corner into a small alcove where his own bed was, and laid her down on the coarse mattress.  “Sleep now, dear,” he said, covering her with his blanket, not so much to keep her warm as to shield his covetous eyes from her loveliness.

Zostus sat in his Wizard’s Chair and read whilst he kept watch over his heart’s love.  She slept without stirring for several hours and woke feeling rested and fresh, if somewhat befogged.  He first heard her rustling and then her voice: “What hour is it?”

“’Tis half-past the stroke of six.  How fare thee?”

“Well, thank you.  I would -” she stopped and drew in a harsh breath, shrieking, “Saints and ministers of grace preserve us!”

Zostus threw his book aside and ran to her.  “What is it, child?”  As he rounded the corner, he saw.  Celeste’s bosom had waxed truly enormous: a marvel to behold.  Her great breasts did bulge out mightily from her body, protruding before her to a shocking extreme, full and round.  As she sat on the edge of his bed, they swelled out, obscuring the lower portion of her body and resting on the floor.  The sight of her unclothed from the waist upward and baring so great a bosom stunned the wizard.  He stood transfixed, staring at her.  He was filled with desire for the woman, body and soul, which was something he’d never experienced.

Celeste sat staring at herself, running her delicate hands across the smooth surface of her engorged breasts.  “Forsooth they are large!” she said with hushed awe.

“Indeed, Celeste,” Zostus agreed.

The wizard’s use of her Christian name drew her from her reverie; he had not done so until that moment.  She turned her head to behold him, and saw him anew.  She saw not the great wizard, but the man within, as he stood near her, captivated by her beauty and nakedness, and in a sense naked himself as well.  They unabashedly looked into one another’s eyes for a long and wonderful moment, until Zostus was compelled to look away.  The magic of that moment that had changed him from wizard to mere man had also taken away his right to gaze upon her as would a physician.

“Forgive me, milady.  I stare,”  he said quietly as he turned his head.  He did not see the fragile smile that cross her lips as she continued to stare at him.  “We must find some means to clothe you.  I will set myself to finding such.”

He returned after several minutes with a few odd pieces of material, setting them on the bed beside her.  “I know not if any of this will suffice, but we will try,” he said, still keeping his head turned from her.

“Wizard Zostus, look upon me,” she said quietly.  He turned and met her gaze.  “You must needs assist me, and to do so requires you to see what you do.  I shan’t be offended.  Help me stand, please.”

He turned again to her, smiling sheepishly, and offered his hand.  She took it, a glorious touch, and attempted to rise.  Her legs straightened first, but the great weight of her tremendous breasts made it difficult to stand upright from the waist.  She struggled to balance herself against the wobbling and swaying of her huge bosom, but finally stood herself tall, her swollen teats undulating gravidly.

“There,” she announced, “I am erect.”

As am I, thought Zostus to himself.

“If I had but hearkened unto thee and trusted the dosage thou prescribed, my bosom would not have waxed so great.  Now men will say I am overbuxom.  A freak.”

“Nay, not a whit.  I find thy new fullness to be most exciting.  I again affirm that you are truly the most beautiful woman these eyes of mine have e’er beheld.  Let it be known as well, that thou wert so before ever coming to my door.”

“Many thanks, kind sir,” she said a-blush.  He then went about covering the girl’s magnificent breasts with the material he had found.  What resulted was odd-looking but serviceable.

“Thank you, kind sir,” she said to him smiling.  “Thus will I be decent until I may make some fabrication of my own, for I am a fair seamstress.”  She gathered her things and stood up to leave.  “Now before I go, I must fulfill my part of the covenant.  I promised you any price for your service.  Now what do you ask?”

Zostus followed her slowly toward the door, and when he spoke, he set aside all airs, speaking without guile or pride of office.  “What price.  Celeste, I watch over our little village every day.  The folk know it not, but I do what I can through my arts to protect and make prosperous.”

“Sir,” she said quietly, “forgive this interruption, but we do know.  The people think fondly of you and credit you with many unseen acts of goodness.”

He absorbed this momentarily.  “That is kind of you to say.”

“Sir, I made a bargain with you.  You have given me my heart’s desire,” she said, putting a hand upon her bounteous bosom.  Is there nothing I can give in return?”

“Nothing fair to ask,” he said.

“Ask anyway, Zostus,” she said, touching his hand.

Softly and without meeting her eyes, he said, “In the same way I use my arts to oversee the village, I have also watched over thee for years.  There is but one thing I would ask of thee, and that is to ask all.”

“Meaning?”

He paused but could not refrain from unburdening himself, regardless of cost.  “My heart has belonged to thee since I first saw your face in my scrying glass.  And though it was thy beauty which first won me, the sweetness of thy soul has sealed me to you.  I can only ask for your hand, e’en knowing that so fine a woman needs better than such a one as I.”

His gaze finally met hers, and he saw her eyes were wide.  He thought, I have shamed her and embarrassed myself.  But then she spoke.  “I have never been so honoured, sir!  Dost thou jest?”

They paused at his front door, and he took her hand in his.  “This is no jest.  Never have I been so sincere.”

“But a wizard of your order may not marry.”

“Of a truth, I would forsake my order to have thee.  I would forsake all!  I love thee.  Never have I loved another!”

Her countenance showed the surprise and bewilderment she was feeling.  “No man has ever spoken to me thus.”

“I know this.  I - ”  Though he desired to reveal his selfish intrusions into her affairs, he could not bring himself to say the words.

Looking out his doorway at the rolling hillsides and the village in the valley below, she said simply, “Yes.”

Somewhat confused, he stammered, “That is to say, er, you will have me?”

She looked him in the face smiling broadly.  “Of course I will.  I never dreamed of finding such a worthy husband.  But you must shave your beard first.  I must know whom I marry.”

“That I will gladly do!”

“One more thing.”

“Name it, dear woman.”

“We have made my bosom so overly large that I do not believe I shall be able to exit through this door.  Can you make it wider?”

“Thy bosom?”

“Nay, the door,” she said with a playful poke.

“I am only a wizard, and not a carpenter,” he said with a sly grin.

“So,” she said with a feisty grin, “you would have me stay within the confines of this small cottage all my life?”

“Oh, ’tis only small on the outside.  It is a wizard’s house, you know.”

“But what would we do all day long,” she said as she untied the blouse he had fashioned for her and opened it, baring her immense bosom.

He put his hands upon her enormous breasts and caressed them lovingly.  “Come to bed with me and we shall learn.”

So Zostus and Celeste were wed that very day.  The next morning his front door was mysteriously just wide enough for his wife’s great bosom.  He did set aside his membership in the Order of Wizards, yet he continued to practice his arts for the benefit of the folk in his village and surrounds, and the fame of this renegade wizard and his wife’s buxom beauty was spread throughout the land.  Never did he tell her that it was by his hand that no suitor ever came to call, and neither did he ever mention a word when he discovered a counter-spell that returns a woman’s breasts to their normal size.