*Inspired by this prompt by u/gahidus ( [WP] The horned graphic on the rare and expensive bottle made him think it was a potion to transform him into a mighty Minotaur. He didn't realize it actually depicted a Holstaur instead... : DirtyWritingPrompts (reddit.com) , which reminded me of just how much I love writing about lewd monstergirls!*

"Enhanced strength, vitality, and fertility...a 100% effective potion to embody the spirit of Taurus..." A pair of quivering lips hesitantly read aloud to themselves, the owner of said hushed voice brushing his fingers against the graphic as he eyed the bottle it was placed upon with a curious eye. The bright, fluorescent purple solution swished about in the container as he twisted and turned it in his hand, intrigued by the mysterious glow and the sweet, earthy scent that lightly emanated from the potion.

His mind was drawn back to his earlier discovery of the substance, while wandering through one of Gellghoul city's many isolated street markets, bustling with all manner of illicit wares magical or otherwise to clients willing to partake in the shady delights they offered.

On his usual midnight walk back from work, dreading the musty city air that was clearly contributing to his ill health, Bertrum Brandt, on a curious whim brought on by his mounting disdain for his monotonous job and unsatisfying life, decided to waltz through the marketplace with an open mind and a stuffed wallet. The unfamiliar scents of gamey street meat sold by Griffin vendors and the noisy chatter of the litany of humanoid monsterfolk gathered there pervaded his senses, filling the skinny, pale, 5'6 man with a sense of unease in the presence of the much more able bodied specimens in his sight.

Had it not been for her, his uncharacteristic decision to open himself up to such a strange, alien environment would most likely have ended with his usual routine of returning to his tiny one-bedroom apartment and putting on one of the many "films" he'd collected in the infamous "Succubi Suck-sluts" series and drifting to sleep once what little male essence he had was ejected into little more than an off-white stain on his bedsheets.

However, the twisted sisters of fate seemed to have different ideas for Bertrum, as his ears were called by a low, wistful, whispering wind that drew his eyes to a particular kiosk amongst the many stuffed within the marketplace. The glittering purple curtains billowed out with the wind to reveal the slightest hint of the storekeepers visage...the tentacled face of a sea hag long past the days of her prime...but whose voice still called out to him with her whispers in spite of her ugliness. Against his better judgment, Bertrum slowly crept through the curtains and into the room that made the store, his nose assailed by the impossibly strong musk of witches brews and cursed concoctions with every breath he took.

"Who goes, who goes? I see no man...mine eyes behold a boy, filled with dark desires..." The hag began to let out, the tentacles draping over her face as hair rising up and squirming in the air, unfortunately revealing the slime and goo covered mess of misshapen features and blind, scarred eyes that made up her awful face, with Bertrum struggling to keep the many rude comments he had in mind from being made known to her.

"W-what desires?" He asked, his voice a mix of fear and anticipation, wondering what insight the Crone could glean into his deep dissatisfaction...and perhaps, whether she held a cure.

"Common ones...but very deep. Alone, isolated, weak...ye desires strength, yes? To be respected? Beloved by your peers and exalted around all you meet. And yet here you come...so of course, you have none of this, don't you?"

"I...y-you could say that." He mumbled with a sour voice, upset at being so casually insulted by this...thing.

"Well...ye are in luck, young one. All this and more you can acquire! For a price, of course. A concoction of magical qualities, fit to give you the body and mind to fulfill your deepest wants! If you still desire them, accept my price, child. Otherwise, you may walk away...perhaps being a 25 year old loser with crippling student loan debt will be less miserable in the next few years..."

Were Bertrum knowledgeable of the untold consequences that always resulted from giving into the demands of the stereotypical magic hag, he might have humbled himself and walked away, deciding that genuine effort and personal responsibility was much more reliable than any magical potion could be.

Unfortunately for him, he'd skipped almost all of his literature classes when Hamlet was their book of study...

​

---

​

Now, beneath the dim light in the center of his cheap apartment, Bertrum had a few second thoughts about the potion...wondering if emptying out a whole month's worth of his job's pay for some clearly unregistered potion might not have been the smartest thing. In truth, he was very much susceptible to deceptive marketing courses aimed at selling solutions to his many problems, as could be seen from the cupboard full of all manner of weight gain supplements, fat loss solutions, and pickup artistry guides...all of which had turned out to be more or less useless long after he'd already lined the pockets of the salesman who conned him.

But still...something about this one seemed so much different, maybe it was the scent, the look, or, much more likely, his sunk cost fallacy acting to justify his bad decisions to himself...but for whatever reason, his heart flared with conviction that this would be the solution. And with that thought on mind, he bravely uncapped the bottle and downed its contents, the shiny pink liquid slipping down his gullet and leaving a rich, milky taste as it passed with a final, echoing gulp.

...

...

...

...

"I-is that it!? Ugh, I fucking knew this was just a sca-OOOOOH!"

The man's oncoming tirade of hateful curses to the hag who sold him the potion was stopped before it could begin, as from the bottom of his stomach where the liquid had settled, an intense, bubbling reaction was set off that left his nerves screaming with pain unlike anything he'd ever felt.

Eager to witness his transformation, Bertrum rushed to the bathroom, his hands gripping onto the sink with enough strength to whiten his knuckles as untold anguish beat upon his body and he barely stopped himself from roaring in pain. He gave one last look to the figure in the mirror, his greasy, thinning, unkempt mop of black hair, the diminutive, bony frame which was layered atop with sickly pale skin, and gave a toothy grin with his crooked smile in celebration.

"Goodbye old Bertie. Next time I give you a look, I'm gonna be Bertrum the hunky Minotaur stud!"

Just as that thought was crystallized in his mind, a much sharper sting of pain echoed through his spine and made him close his eyes, whimpering out with tortured cries as his bones creaked and his skin stretched obscenely. He could feel the effects of the transformation through the pain, his limbs lengthening while his body grew...it was like being awake for a growth spurt, only much, much stronger than any growth an average human would experience, he could feel the shift in space around him as his form enlarged, and it filled him with glee to notice the echoing thud of his feet stomping against the ground as his toes grew and conjoined into a set of thick, heavy hooves.

After a ten minute bout of suffering that felt more like ten hours, Bert sighed heavily in relief, his senses returning to him as his grip broke through the ceramic bathroom sink, a sign of his newfound strength and the success of his transformation. He kept his eyes closed, as though preserving the surprise he knew was soon to come, brimming with glee like a kid on christmas morning as he slowly parted his eyelids to reveal...

An absolutely massive set of extra large milktank mammaries!

"H-huh!?" He snorted in confusion, even more astounded by the alien noise of his own voice. He expected it to sound different sure, and to be honest, it was deeper...but this was...effeminate, sultry almost, bearing the pitch and tone of a bovine seductress whose voice alone could titillate the senses of any breeding bull within hearing distance of her mewls.

"N-no way, this isn't happening, I'm probably confused...I-I'll turn away and look back, and it'll be just like it was supposed to be..." Bertrum murmured to himself, turning around and closing his eyes as he counted aloud to himself. Were anyone else there to witness the image reflected in the mirror, they would be awestruck by the absolute enormity of the new Bertrum's body.

At a whopping 6'7, he...or, she, bore a frame that could only be described as the envy of an Amazon, with a sturdy bed of grassfed musculature and thick, powerful legs and arms fit to crush most unsuspecting bystanders with a mere gentle hug. Her untold size extended to her very, very noticeable feminine traits, with a firm, yet pendulous pair of bouncy breasts each near twice the size of her head, a near endless swell of bovine breeding hips that just wouldn't quit, and two absurdly large mounds of milky white monstergirl ass that would put the most overgrown of prodigious human bubble butts to shame, jiggling massively with the merest shift of her body alongside her incredibly endowed bust.

However, as Bertrum closed her eyes, revealing one dark spot out of many that covered her new snow white sheet of hair, she clearly could not come to terms with just what her transformation resulted in.

"And three...two...one!" With that final confident shout, she twisted in place, setting her enormous curves to jiggling even more obscenely as she stood in front of the mirror with her stance wide and open, revealing only the puffy, exposed pink caps of her perky udders, which she instinctually wrapped her arm around to hide, her eyes teary and her voice growing strangled and frustrated as the reality of her situation finally hit her in full force.

"This...this...THIS ISN'T WHAT I WANTED YOU STUPID HAG!!!!!"