The Player Witch Augment

Ross had to wait for the entire street to be empty before he dared enter the storefront he was stood near for a few minutes. He pretended to read the USA Today he'd found near a trash can until everyone's back was turned, and he jumped into the entrance of Mystical Solutions.

As generic a name as any, Ross has received one email too many talking about 'natural enlargement' and 'male enhancement with herbs.' He'd always theorized that if those products worked, they couldn't possibly be kept a secret. The government would probably subsidize it and hand it out with the daily paper like that injection in Equilibrium.

This email was just a little too specific. His spam filter caught it, but not before he saw his home city of Walla Walla listed in the subject line. This may have been unsolicited, but it was also local.

Inside the Mystical Solutions shop were shelves and shelves filled with potions, triangular bottles with corks in the necks, mirrors and polished shields, and jars of eyeballs and shrunken heads that were presumably fake, but who knows? There was a single desk behind which sat a woman of tanned skin and uncertain ethnicity. She wore a wrinkled purple dress, two streaks of yellow paint under her eyes, shells woven into braids in her hair, and her bare feet crossed on the desk. In her hands, rather than a wand... was a Playstation controller. The woman wove with every move of the controller, as if she could control it with the sway of her shoulders. Even that was beyond her magic power.

She cursed in some unknown tongue and slammed the controller to the desk. The controller snapped in two like a stale bread stick. Ross was already intimidated. He'd always wanted to meet a chick who played video games... but he knew he wouldn't know how to handle her.

The woman sneered at her television and the high score she'd missed, and then turned to Ross. Her expression softened at the sight of the customer. Apparently, she wasn't mad about him interrupting her. "Welcome!" She said, speaking with a vague accent. "I am Katrina Turnenkov. I am a witch doctor. How can I heal you?"

Ross couldn't find his voice. Katrina stood and came around the table. Of all the qualities he expected to see from a witch doctor... beauty wasn't one of them. Maybe she was just in training. She couldn't be older than thirty, he thought. Maybe she was the assistant.

"Where did you hear about me? Or did you just walk in for the free air conditioning?" Katrina inquired, stepping closer.

"I got an email." Ross said softly, tugging at the collar of his ironic T-shirt.

"Ohh, you got a small dick, eh?" Katrina said in a half-shout that wasn't necessary. Ross was mortified, even though nobody else was in the shop.

"Maybe this was a mistake." Ross started to back away, towards the door.

"Hang on a second." She pointed her nail-polished finger at him, and then at the broken controller. With an incantation that sounded more like a sneeze rolled into a cough than any actual words, the controller jumped up into the air and assembled itself back into shape. To Ross, it looked like someone had reversed the video footage of her smashing it. On television, he would have sneered at such a cheesy effect. In real life, it was far more impressive.

"Where were we?" Katrina scratched her tangled brown hair. Ross expected a bat to fly out of it without warning. "Oh yes, your tiny dick."

"It's not tiny." He insisted.

"I'll be the judge of that." Katrina summoned a caliper from somewhere, perhaps another dimension, and dropped to her knees. "I need to see the specimen."

Ross unbuckled his belt and pulled his jeans and boxers down at the same time. He was hanging free... if you could call it hanging.

"Aw." Katrina said at the sight of it. Ross' cheeks went red. That was the reaction he dreaded the most. Not a woman laughing at it, but sympathy. Pity. A woman so shocked by it's smallness, she wouldn't laugh at it for fear of hurting his feelings. He'd rather be in the range where a woman could feel fine just laughing at it.

"What are we working with here?" Katrina muttered as she lined the calipers up to Ross' penis. She measured from the base to the tip and came up with two and one-half inches.

"That's pretty tiny." She mocked, looking at the calipers up close. She summoned a jeweler's loupe from the dimension she obtained her comedy props, held it in her eye and inspected the unit closer.

"Well, I'm not hard yet." Ross protested, pulling up his pants a bit. Katrina turned in place and looked at him expectantly. Ross took hold of his unit and shook it a bit. There wasn't much material to shake, sadly.

Katrina reached both arms up to the edge of her strapless dress and pulled it down, freeing the large, soft mounds of her breasts. Ross gasped, and he was on his way.

Tucking herself back into her dress, she brought the calipers back up to Ross' now erect penis. "Four." She said shortly. "I'm sure it makes a difference."

"I'm not a virgin." Ross insisted. "I have actually given women orgasms before."

"With that, or your tongue? Because your tongue's bigger, and probably gets more use." She wrote something on a notebook on her desk. "Grower, shower... neither of the above."

"Can you help me, or are you going to just mock me all day?"

"I'm only open till five." Katrina said. "I can help you, but first... I need a sample."

Katrina pulled out the least mystical object in the room, outside of the Playstation: a clear glass petri dish. She set it on the desk and looked up at him.

Ross took in a long breath, took hold of his wang with thumb and forefinger and started to tug it back and forth, pointing it at the petri dish.

"Wow, you're just going for it?" Katrina leaned into her hand, elbow on the desk, watching him jerk off like a cat watching a screen-saver. "No lube or lotion or nothing?"

"Do you have any?"

"I've got hand lotion, but you can't use hand lotion on dicks. It's against the law." She said, still watching with a combination of intensity and apathy.

A little time passed in silence. Ross didn't feel like he was getting anywhere.

"Is it more insulting to say you're bad at this, or that you're really, really good at it?" Katrina piped up.

"I don't normally do this without porn..." Ross confessed.

"Oh, yeah... expert mode." Katrina remarked. "Jeez, don't you have any imagination?"

Ross worked his erection silently, trying to ignore her judging eye. He'd occasionally glance back at Katrina, at the deep fissure of her cleavage, heaving with every disinterested sigh.

"Alright, enough. As you Americans say, let's get this show on the street." Katrina sat up and started belting out intense orgasmic moans with the surprising vocal power of an opera singer. The tiny shop filled with her forced ululations.

"Oh, Ross! You've ruined me for all other men!" She cried, her voice as sincere and rapturously orgasmic as her face was tepid. "Ohhh, Ross! Sex with any other man would be like dropping a jelly bean into a pint glass! Ooohhh! Big doesn't begin to describe you! We need to invent one of those stupid American combo words like 'ginormous!' Ohhh! I'm going to start calling you Tyrannosaurus Ross!"

The moment she finished that sentence. Ross stuttered, lurched forward, leaned on a nearby shelf, and ejaculated into the petri dish. He made what Katrina considered to be an average sized sample, thankfully not getting any on her desk. Whatever the flaws of this little pistol of a penis... aim wasn't one of them.

Katrina took the petri dish gingerly and set it aside. She withdrew a single tissue from a box hidden under her desk, folded it into quarters and gently rubbed it on the underside of Ross' withering erection, picking up a small string of come like an errant booger from a nostril. She folded it again and tossed it off, presumably into a trash can, perhaps into the mouth of a highly trained and undiscriminating monster.

"Alright. I know what we're going to do." Katrina turned around and pulled a cylindrical bottle off the shelf. She pulled the cork out with her teeth and spat it to the desk. The bottle contained a white powder that she poured into her left hand and applied vigorously to Ross' nethers.

"What is this?"

"It's a secret magical ingredient called talc." She applied the powder to his bits and clapped it off her hands. She grabbed a different bottle, performing the same cork trick. This powder was red-orange, with a grain size closer to sand, with little crystals that caught the light like glitter. She poured a mound of it into her left hand.

Katrina applied the powder to Ross' penis and testicles. It stuck to the skin vigorously like a wet dough or mud. She massaged the material into the skin. Ross felt his face redden as he grew aroused again. "Don't worry about that." Katrina assured him. "That's normal."

The door to the shop flew open, the bell ringing and the door slamming into the opposite wall. "Katrina!" Someone shouted.

"I'm with a client." Katrina said, evidently agitated. "Come back next never."

"What's up with my cock?!" Said the customer, a taller man in a suit with short hair slicked back with gel. It looked like he'd come from the office on his lunch break to take up this grievance. It was equally possible he walked off the set of an eighties financial thriller.

"What do you mean, Martin?" Katrina said, never taking much attention away from her massage.

The man, evidently named Martin, stood next to Ross. He reached into his pants and pulled out his cock.

Suddenly, Ross was feeling more confident he'd made the right choice after all. Martin's cock hung long like a store-bought roll of cookie dough, at least a foot long and balls like small avocados. If they put a picture of that in the email, he would have thought the photo had been manipulated.

"What? It's right there." Katrina pointed, disinterested. "This wasn't exactly, how do you

Americans say, Where's Waldorf."

"It won't get hard!" Martin shouted. "I haven't been hard since I got it! What good is a dick that won't get hard?"

"You men are so picky about your dicks..." She groaned. "If it doesn't work, it's on you, Martin. Go buy some blue pills."

"I'm 25! I'm not buying any boner pills!"

"Then try butt-stuff. See if you get hard that way."

"I'm not doing that! I ain't gay!" Martin was incensed that she wasn't paying attention. She reached over and pushed her shoulder to turn her head to him.

That did it. She took one hand off Ross' nads and pointed it, barking some incantation that send Martin flying out of the store and shutting the door behind him. Martin landed flat on his back in the street. A passerby helped him to his feet, and they both realized at the same time his dick was still hanging out of his pants.

Martin scooped it back in his pants, apologizing to the woman before running off. The woman wasn't sure what she'd just seen, but she chased after him regardless.

"Can't please everyone." Katrina hugged, returning the focus to Ross' genitals. "Well, he could surely please everyone... if he could get an erection."

"Is that going to happen to me?" Ross asked.

"No, no, no." Katrina assured him with a gentle pat on the scrotum. "Probably not. Anyway, we're at the important part. I'm going to pull on it. If it hurts, tell me right away. It shouldn't hurt at all. If it hurts, I haven't used enough of the orange stuff."

Ross nodded. Katrina held the base of Ross' little member in the space between her thumb and forefinger, and the other hand just below the head. She pulled on it, gently but firmly, and it began to stretch. It lengthened with the same ease as pulling chewed gum or Silly Putty. Unlike those substances, it didn't seem to be getting thinner as she pulled it. It was really growing.

She kept pulling, stretching the penile tissue outward, until she released it to get a different grip. In that moment, his half-hard cock drooped down past his balls. Ross was shocked. His cock was actually hanging past his balls for the first time in his life.

"Do you have a specific length in mind?" Katrina asked.

"No, I'll trust the artist to make it the way it should be." Ross answered.

Katrina smiled. She'd never been called an 'artist' before without it following the word 'con.' She took some pre-moistened towels and cleaned the orange paste from Ross' genitals. She quickly wiped her hands with one of them.

"Where did you get this stuff?" Ross asked, admiring his new cock. He was finally confident enough it to call it that.

"It's hard to find. Dangerous, too." Katrina opened her hand, which was also twice as large as it was before, a giant mitt with long, bony fingers. Ross gasped, but Katrina was unmoved. She found a tin of salve and rubbed it vigorously between her hands. The salve evaporated like hand sanitizer, leaving a distinct minty smell in the air. She compared her hands. They looked about the same size again.

"We're almost done, but there's one last step." Katrina leaned forward and held Ross' cock aloft. "Trust me, this is necessary and unavoidable. There are other techniques, but this works the best. I wouldn't do it unless it was the best, OK?"

Katrina inhaled deep and planted her lips on the very tip of Ross' cock, blowing into the hole at the tip. His cock inflated considerably in girth, and his balls grew larger as well.

She released it, and to his relief, his cock didn't flutter around the room like a released balloon, making all sorts of undignified noises. It was still there. It even had the heft of flesh, rather than the floaty feather-like physics of a balloon. Ross would definitely be giving this place five stars on Yelp.

Katrina surprised him by jumping up and kissing him on the lips. He immediately backed away. "Ew, gross!" He wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

"YOU think it's gross? It's your dick!" Katrina sneered. "Sheesh, can I get one grateful customer, please?"

"No, I'm grateful. Definitely." Ross said. "What's the final measurement?"

Katrina opened the calipers all the way, but they were not big enough. She retrieved a strip of measuring tape and made it official. The new Ross was thirteen inches long. She could say one foot, one inch, but 'thirteen' was her favorite number, naturally. It's girth was eight-and-a-quarter inches around, roughly the same circumference as a can of soda.

"I think this has turned out pretty well." Katrina said, proud of her handiwork. "Don't touch it for a while, OK?"

"Will my hand grow like yours if I did?"

"No, but it needs time to set. Just don't mess with it for, like, an hour. Otherwise, it'll get air bubbles in it."

"Yes, ma'am." Ross finally elected to tuck his half-hard schlong back in. Finally, he had a use for his boxer leg other than putting his leg through it. He hung it to his left, as he was right-handed. He saw the petri dish of his jizz. "What was the point of that, then? That didn't seem to come into play."

Katrina just shrugged, taking the dish and stowing it away somewhere.

"What do I owe you?" Ross asked.

"Don't worry about that yet." Katrina said. "You make sure it meets your needs, and we'll work on a payment plan."

Ross shrugged. "OK. Thank you very much, Katrina."

"It is my life's work. Thank you for stopping by." She bowed her head gently. Ross left, walking with considerably greater confidence than he'd entered.

Katrina sat back down and picked up her controller. She was about to start a new game when someone else burst through the front door. She snarled and dropped the controller again. Apparently, she wasn't getting any high scores today.

"What is it?!" She shouted, standing. She stood face-to-face with a bearded man with a shaved head. It was Dave, another of her clients. "Hey, Dave. Thanks for putting a hole in my wall. I really appreciate that." She barked at the hole, and it obediently stitched itself back together.

"I want the rest." Dave growled. "I can't keep going on like this."

"You're the one who wanted to do this in installments, Dave." Katrina said. "We are not, how do you Americans say it, changing the horse's diaper mid-stream?"

"You think I can get laid like this?!" He pulled out his junk, because why not? Everyone who comes in her shop today can just flash their junk at her without provocation, as if you could do this in any regular doctor's office. Dave's balls were mighty, like two oranges in a bag, but his penis was regular-sized. Compared to the balls, it looked like a worm crawled on a flesh-colored rock to die in the sunlight.

Katrina was unfazed. "You're the one who said, 'do the balls first, it'll look silly, a big cock with small balls.' Well, I did it the way you asked, and now I'm not doing the rest until you stump up the cash."

"You're going to fix this, or I'm going to knock your block off!" Dave pointed his finger at her fiercely.

Katrina's expression darkened, and perhaps the room did as well. Dave could swear he heard thunder somewhere in the distance. "You dare threaten me?" Katrina said, teeth clenched. Her fist started to glow white with unknown power. "Maybe you should learn to live with no cock at all!" She barked a long incantation and threw her arm towards Dave.

His reaction time faster than even he expected, Dave grabbed a shield from the wall and cowered behind it. The spell exited Katrina's hand, bounced off the polished surface of the shield and returned to the only valid target in the vicinity: Katrina herself.

The magical energy surged through her whole body, causing her to shudder for a moment. They both stood still for a second. Dave peeked out from under the shield. "Did that spell bounce off this and hit you?"

"It sure looks that way." Katrina answered tensely.

There was silence except for Katrina's grandfather clock, accented with fake bones and a few real ones, like the tibia tied to the pendulum.

"What happens to a woman who's hit with a 'take-away-the-cock-spell?' " Dave asked.

Katrina looked down. "Evidently nothing."

Another silence. "Can I go?" Dave asked meekly.

"Come or go, I don't care. But I could literally turn you into a frog or a maple tree if I wanted to. Why don't you just pay me?!"

"Alright, fine!" Dave put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. "There we go."

Katrina counted it. Sixty bucks. "Was that so hard?!" Katrina bellowed. She barked a few incantations and pointed at his groin. His fly immediate broke open, ripping apart like a fat guy muscling into a medium-sized shirt. Katrina didn't let him inspect the merchandise before waving her hand and tossing him from the store. He would not get the hand-crafted beauty that she gave Ross; he wouldn't appreciate it anyway.

Katrina walked up to the front door, turned around the sign that said, "Back in 15 Minutes," locked the door and closed the shade. She entered the tiny space behind the storefront that she generously called 'the back room.' It had a full-length mirror for doing makeup and other such things, but she needed it for something else.

Katrina pulled her dress over her head and threw it off. Now all she had on was her dainty pink panties, the only thing so self-consciously girly she ever wore. She couldn't help loving her tiny panties, but she might have to start wearing something else. Barely restrained within was a new addition to her body: a cock.

Tossing her panties off, she stood naked in front of the mirror. It was an average-sized cock, if the sad examples her clientele came were anything to go on. She hoisted the member up and felt between her legs. Her pussy was still there. That was a relief.

Staring at her reflection, the cock started to rise by itself without her touching it. Katrina was a bit embarrassed to be aroused by her own reflection, but... she was beautiful, and she liked cocks so much, she spent most of her days making the biggest ones in the world.