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Chilled Flames

In the snowy tundra of the Northern region of Mercantia, lies a rural village of SnoDrift. Its population is primarily made up of humanoid beasts who prefer the bitter cold to any other climate. Many know the village to be home for a famed alchemist. From her healing potions to her tinctures of charisma, any adventurer worth their salt stops by for resupply. However, the locals are a lot less lively. Just because they love the cold does not mean they’ll take their leisurely stroll to their local apothecary. The dreaded long hours of sunless skies create an understandable longing for companionship. There would be no need to venture out in the blistering icy winds if supplies were adequately stocked and your partner’s warmth cuddled beside you.

‘Vanilla Wind’s Apothecary and Potions’ is the closest storefront to the village square. When she arrived 10 years ago, the sole reason she picked out this spot was for the common foot traffic. In the back of her mind however, she had wanted chance after chance to woo herself a partner. If business was not so profitable, she would move to the bigger town of Burghly, which is about a 5 day trip by sled. “Another day of blizzards and I’ll have to light tomorrow’s fire with scraps of paper and an ignition potion”, Vanilla sighs as she pokes at the few cinders still smoldering in the brick fireplace. She wraps herself tightly in her woolen cardigan; the local woodsman gifted it to her last spring. Vanilla closes her eyes and remembers the moment fondly. How burly and strong was this lumberjack, but how kind hearted and gentle he was alone with her. “Business before love.” She sighs deeply, parroting the words he had said to her before leaving that morning never to come back. “I guess I adopted your same sentiment, but it feels more forced upon me than yourself truly.” Vanilla stretches her back before meandering to the front door, turning a very old wooden sign from ‘Closed’ to ‘Open’. While her eyes are still half shut, she begins adjusting the various glass bottles and jars of her product on the adjacent shelves.

Potion crafting had always been a passion of Vanilla’s. It began when her father showed her the wonders of herbal tea remedies. It did not take long for her to be “brewing” potions in the backyard of her childhood home; taking any finished product for her father to try. It was a couple years after the fact where Vanilla officially became her father’s apprentice. He taught her everything she knows before going off on her own to become a great apothecary for adventurers. Her daydreaming of simpler times comes to an abrupt halt when another Polar Bear walks through the threshold of her shop. The loud clang of the bell affixed to the top of the doorway wakes her up fully. Like a robot given a set command the words spring from her lips, but stop mid sentence, “Welcome to Vanilla’s Apothe-”. Before she could finish her greeting, Vanilla looked the bear up and down. His broad shoulders and meaty arms caused her to gulp before immediately choking on her own saliva. The customer slowly closed the door, giving the woman an expression of both concern and beguilement. “Choke on your own tongue eh lass? No worries, done that me-self before rallying an adventuring party. Those icefiends looked about as confused as my crew, and I honestly don’t know who was going to bust out laughing first.” With a single outstretched paw, he offers Vanilla a handkerchief. “You can keep that one, I have plenty more!” Vanilla snaps to her senses and begins wiping the sides of her mouth with the cloth. The black and red plaid pattern matched the man’s outerwear. His unbuttoned flannel presented a thick chest with lots of fur. The grey overalls he wore accented the muscles he was hiding under his shirt, but he wore no shoes. To maintain her composure in front of a hunk of a bear like himself, Vanilla focussed all her attention on his snow covered paws. “Thank you sir, but you uh aren't wearing any…” The bear broke his gaze from Vanilla and began milling about the store. “Shoes, right? Yeah had to leave them at home, damn things are nearly a pile of threads. Good thing I enjoy the snow just as much as a mug of hot coffee.” The male polar bear chuckles heartily before putting down a potion bottle just to pick another one up.

“I see, well it’s a good thing I was just about to make a pot. Drinks like these always taste better when you share them.” Vanilla blushes, but turns away before he had a chance to look her in the eyes. “Please take your time browsing and let me know if you need anything.” The pads of her slippers clap against the floorboards as Vanilla hurriedly rounds the end of the counter to the employee's side of her store. Using the counter as a barrier for comfort, she stares at the rugged polar bear before internally bullying herself for not asking the man his name. “Get a hold of yourself Vanny”, she says quietly pouring coffee grounds into the pot. “Not even asking his name before you fantasize about how he could easily toss you around, and how he would make you beg for his…”

“Cream?” The polar bear questions from another part of her store, setting aside some potions on an empty part of the shelf. Vanilla coughs and gets more flustered before asking once more, making sure she heard correctly.

“What was that sir?” Vanilla facepalms, immediately regretting calling him sir.

“Do you have any cream for the coffee Miss Vanilla?”, the polar bear puts back a potion he had collected after shaking it a couple times.

“Yes, I want cream. HAVE! I have cream. For you.” She coughs and her face turns red as she stares frozen, caught fully by the bear’s gaze. “You can just call me Vanilla, no need for the formal address.” She reaches for a leftover cup of water from the previous night to clear her throat.

“I see, did nah mean to wind you up so tightly lass. I ‘spose if we were keeping it informal then…” He pauses as he begins walking up to her counter with a handful of tinctures, delicately placing each one off to the side. Vanilla has to look up to meet his eyeline, his flared nostrils crest over his white rugged fur. She clutches her water cup tighter. “Beryl, you can call me. Like crystal from the ground.” He chuckles before walking back to where he was previously. Vanilla bites down on her lip as his ass moves from side to side as he walks. “Lord of Snow, if that’s what’s going on in the back what the hell is he packing up front?” Vanilla fans herself with an old receipt before grabbing two clay mugs from a nearby cabinet. “Make conversation girl, even if nothing happens, it’s practice for when you find a real man.” Vanilla sighs deeply, until she a sense of warmth overwhelms her. “A real man?! How is this HUNK of a bear not real.” Any chance they lock eyes, Vanilla shifts her gaze to the variety of potions Beryl brought to the counter.

“So, a lot of potions here huh? Big expedition coming up?” Vanilla sheepishly asks while cataloging all the products on her counter, trying to mimic how gentle he was. Beryl pauses for a moment, and then scratches his chest. “Just gettin some goods for me shack. Just paid a handsome penny, moving here was a pain in the ass.” Beryl stretches before approaching the counter once more, this time with two potions grasped in one hand. As subtle as she possibly could, Vanilla’s eyes make their way down his shirt and stopping just below his waistline. A bulbous mass, enshrouded in fabric greets her. Before she could make out how large it was, Beryl placed the potions on the counter. “That should be it.” He leans against the counter, unknowingly broadening his shoulders and puffing his chest. Vanilla begins calculating in her head the total amount of gold owed for the order. “Is it lonely here?” Beryl asks almost earnestly. Vanilla’s heart skips a beat, and taps the back of her pencil before responding in a shaky voice. “Well I guess if you aren’t from around here…or have anyone…or put work first.” Sort of taken aback by her own response, Vanilla turns away to pour the two hot cups of coffee. The steam from both mugs dance in the firelight, twirling together to form one vapor that rises to the ceiling of her apothecary. The silence is broken by another burly chortle from Beryl, “Took the words from my mouth, I was assuming the same thing lass! With a new adventure comes new relationships!” Beryl takes a sip of his coffee before smacking his lips in approval.

Beryl’s response internally shook Vanilla. She kept telling herself to play it cool, but would almost scream in desire for him to be hers. Vanilla puts a hand, covering the top of his coffee. “Your cream!” She yelps. “I forgot your cream, I’m so sorry.” Before Vanilla could hop off her stool, she feels a paw wrap around hers. Vanilla’s heart skips multiple times. “No worries darling, I think I have some cream.” In an instant, she can feel that same overwhelming heat combined with an increasing feeling of dampness. Her mind races about what he was going to do next. Her head fills with vivid thoughts of Beryl dropping his throbbing cock onto the counter of her store inviting her to take some of his cream followed by her legs resting on either side of his shoulders. Vanilla almost falls off of her stool, but catches herself in her daydreaming. Beryl pulls out a small vial of white from his shirt pocket. “Always be prepared, my mom said.” He uncorks the vial and pours half of the liquid into each of their mugs. Vanilla adjusts herself, then takes a spoon to stir the drinks. The white of the cream and the dark brown of the coffee swirl to become a warm caramel color. They both watch as Vanilla’s delicate hands circulate just above the still steaming beverage. Beryl clears his throat and in a low tone asks “Mind if I lick the spoon? Bit of an old superstition of mine. It’s like good luck!”

“Never heard of such a custom, but please be my guest.” Vanilla places the spoon into his paw. She brushed her fingers against his palm and could feel how these are the hands of a working man. Calloused and rough, but yet somehow smooth to the touch. She watched as Beryl stuck the spoon in his mouth to lick it clean. Beryl, delighted by both the delicious taste and her kind gestures offers the spoon back. “Never had beans that good, but damn you can brew.” Vanilla blushes and gleefully replies, “Well they are from the general store up the road, I know the owner and she can get you a good deal.” Unknowingly, Vanilla placed the spoon back in her coffee and swirled once more before pursing her lips around the warmed utensil. She could still taste his breakfast. A man like this having a balanced meal of apple smoked sausages and berries is like a dream to her. She begins to fantasize about slow mornings with her new man, enjoying each other’s company. “A man like that would be famished after a morning of fucking,” she thought to herself. She wonders where he prefers to dominate her. Maybe he’s a vanilla man who saves it all for the bed. Then she wonders if he is more wild and bullish, an untamed beast who claims his own against any and every piece of furniture and bare wall in her home. Her home. “This man belongs in my home,” her heart sings before the scalding spoon blisters a section of her tongue. “Ouch son of a bitch that smarts!” Vanilla rains down a tirade of insults at the spoon and the warm beverage before making eye contact once more with her guest. She crumbles within. A man like this would not want to hear her swear up and down all because of a burn. Just before she thought all hope was lost, Beryl softly chuckles to himself as he rummages through his soon to be acquired potions. “A fire like that burning in your mouth would put me to shame! Here I thought I was the only one to give my cutlery a good talking too. I’ll have to buy another one, but I believe this should help.” A small pink glass vial with a heart painted on the side now rests in Vanilla’s hands. Beryl slaps his knee and exclaims, “Down the hatch, but don’t mix that into your coffee!”

In this moment, she remembered a time in her life when she was shown that same level of kindness and laughter. While shadowing a local apothecary after moving away from her childhood village, she burned herself in a similar way refining cinders for fire protection oils. Her mentor rushed to her aid and spent no time dressing the wound as well as offering her that same exact potion. If he was not married, that would have been the catalyst for her romantic life. Back then and now, the potion tastes just as sweet but with a hint of cinnamon. Vanilla smiles warmly at Beryl now staring past his eyes and into his soul. She saw herself smiling, now comfy and less stressed. “Better now darling? I know those burns can be like a burr in your pads.” Beryl adjusts his leaning stance and takes another swig. He eyes the potions he gathered on the side of the counter. His cool demeanor changes to a tinge of nervousness. “Apologies, but I did not recognize the labels of your potions are more pictures than words. I didn’t think that through.” He reaches a paw behind his head to scratch in embarrassment. Vanilla cocks her head in confusion, “Are my art skills that bad? It isn’t my strong suit, but I feel the pictures are better since some adventurers do not speak a lot of Common.” Beryl adjusts his posture to a more formal stance, somewhat ready to defend her claim of being a more than casual artist. “No the artistic labels are fine, but it’s what the labels are on some of the bottles.”

Half covering his eyes, Beryl shows a clear liquid vial with bubbles to Vanilla. “I arrived here not long ago, so things are a bit uhhh…” He pauses, hoping to not have to finish his sentence. At first Vanilla does not see what Beryl is referring to, but then slowly connects the dots. Staring back at her is a vulgar drawing of two humanoid figures smiling at one another. She squeals in embarrassment and covers her face, her cheeks as red as ever. “That’s a test product, I didn’t mean for that to be out! It isn’t….It’s not like a…Well It is, but it’s been a while for me to…” Her stammering trails into silence before she takes a deep breath and then sighs. “You are one cute and flustered polar bear arent ya?” Beryl smiles again, appreciating the fact that she was just as embarrassed as he was. “I guess I’m caught red handed. Well with how lonely it is here gotta have something to…”

“Pass the time during those blizzards.” They both say in unison. As they sit in silence and drink their coffee, the two never stop smiling at one another before Beryl takes a moment to speak once more. “Not to sound like the top bear of the mountains, but I feel that I should have buttoned my shirt before coming inside.” He sips the last remaining bit of his coffee and wipes the dribble on his sleeve. Vanilla taps the side of her mug with her nail before adding, “Well no you didn’t have to, but it was a nice change of pace to wake myself up than just sipping on coffee and trying not to burn myself. But hey, maybe I should have stepped up my game and put on a better outfit. I could sell more potions that way.” Vanilla rests her chin on an upright paw. Beryl clicks his tongue, “Beauty like yours can not be dampened by any length or design of cloth. It radiates like the warmth of the sun.” Beryl stretches out his empty mug in an attempt to ask for more.

“How can a man just drop a line like that and be so nonchalant about it? I can’t compliment his looks any more without him begging to stay the night. I still have this whole day to cover, but later maybe? Fuck I don’t want him to leave.”, Vanilla giggles silently. She begins pouring another cup for Beryl and tops herself off with the remaining bit. “You know, if you are new here, you probably don’t have a new job.” Beryl taps his nose in confirmation. “Ay that’s true, well not a stable one at least. Adventurers come and go, but stable income is best. Why? Is that general store hiring?” Vanilla shakes her head and deadpans for a moment, “No.” Her smile resurfaces as she stands from her stool, “But I am! A strong bear like yourself could help a lot around here!” Vanilla rummages through a shelf behind the counter and finds an old green apron. “Try this on! The fabric is woven from arcane saturated threads so it should form pretty nicely.” Beryl nods and dawns the apron, it begins to change in length. Beryl then flexes a bit to measure comfortably before giving a thumbs up and a hearty laugh, “Thanks, Boss!” Vanilla adjusts her own outfit to match his, and then dawns her own green apron. The fabric stretches and grows, forming large curves from her breasts to her hips. “Usually I don’t wear these, but since you’re here, I might as well fit the part!” Beryl adjusts his pants slightly and clears his throat before adjusting once more to lean back onto the counter.

The two spend the entire work day cleaning up the store, processing materials gathered earlier in the week, and genuinely enjoying eachothers company. Beryl mostly stuck to physically demanding tasks while Vanilla watched. His arms flex and bulge while carrying glassware to the storage room. Vanilla dawned her reading glasses to give her first apothecary lesson to Beryl, it was slow, but he was attentive. Beryl kept shifting his pants during the hands on demonstration. For the life of him, he could not stop thinking about how cute she looked in her glasses, and then could not stop thinking about how cute she looked in just her glasses. The small wall clock chimes at 5pm which pulls both of them out of their trance. Vanilla stretches and moans relief while Beryl cracks his back. “Time flies some days, but others I look at the clock and it’s barely past noon.” Throughout the day, Vanilla was thinking of the most perfect way to make Beryl not only her employee, but her lover. She was reminded of the group of potions Beryl was going to buy before he started working that morning. “You know, a good apothecary knows what their potions do, what they taste like, and how long they last. If you’re good enough, you can even tell just by swirling the potion around in its bottle.” Vanilla grins deviantly. Beryl steps back a bit and points and a fire resistance potion on the shelf, “You aren’t going to pour hot water on me or make me juggle charcoal are you?” He takes off his apron and hangs it on a nearby hook by the counter.

Vanilla laughs seductively, “No no no silly, remember the potion you pointed out earlier?” She turns the sign at the front door to ‘Closed’ and locks the door. Beryl grins and makes a barely audible grunt. “Show me.” He says calmly, but to the point of seduction. The hairs on Vanilla’s neck stand up. She is reminded of how wet she was at the beginning of the work day. “Well, pretty boy, sit down here and let me show you.” Vanilla grabs one of Beryl’s shirt flaps and sits him on her stool and faces him. She grabs the clear liquid potion from earlier, but removes the label. “As stated this morning, this is one of the first batch of love making potions I had been working on. The clear glass helps keep the liquid inside relatively warm while the bubbles add the necessary gas to create the effect. Usually you can tell the strength of these potions by how many bubbles you see just by gingerly holding it in your hands.” Forgetting that she was in ‘teaching mode’, she clasped her hands with Beryl’s as they watch the bubbles naturally dance within the confines of the vial. Vanilla flusters a moment as she is now just slightly taller than her new employee. Beryl, on the other hand, is right at breast level to Vanilla. He notices the natural curves of her body now hiding under her informal wear. Taking a moment to disengage from the lesson, Beryl romanticizes about Vanilla only wearing her apron and glasses, Vanilla clammors out of Beryl’s grasp and continues her lecture. “Because we are in the colder climate up north, we need to grow the herb needed for the recipe inside. I have it upstairs in my reading nook by my window if you ever need to grab some for me.” Beryl nods like a drone encapsulated by his siren’s beauty. “The other ingredient can be made from diluting a humanoid’s discharge.” Beryl snaps to reality as he feels his pants get even tighter. He can feel how hot and hard his cock rubs against the inside of his overalls. He stammers out in an attempt to not interrupt, “So so…is it…you know…” Beryl shifts his eyes from the potion to Vanilla’s honeypot. “Well big boy, that brings us to the next part of our lesson.” Vanilla takes off her shirt to reveal a purple lace bra holding her breasts. She then lays her shirt around Beryl’s neck and continues on with her lesson.

“The environment in which you drink a potion can affect the potion’s primary function, intensity, and duration.” Vanilla leans close behind Beryl, pressing her boobs against his back. “So if a lusty polar bear dances her way around you while instructing you on common information about a love making potion, it might be…” she pauses for a moment to caress his chin, feeling the thinner fur around his muzzle. “Pretty powerful.”

Beryl whimpers softly in excitement. “Holy shit, melted him like putty! Man I should add ambrosia leaf to my coffee more often.” Vanilla smirks to herself. She clears her throat, and uncorks the vial before handing it to Beryl. “The smell should be the first thing noted when identifying the previously mentioned characteristics. It should be intense, but not over bearing. Most potions are mixed with an edible substance to dilute the strength. However, in trials, the whole potion is ingested. Never know when a warrior is going to need all their strength to wrestle a dragon.” She whispers in his other ear while tracing her hand further down Beryl’s neck to his upper chest. Beryl slugs the whole bottle and places it on the counter. “Nary a drop left lass, tasted pretty nice to be honest.” Vanilla props herself onto the counter before taking off her bra to reveal her voluptuous set of tits. “Now big boy, what does it taste like?”

Beryl smacks his lips and ponders a moment, never breaking eye contact with her soft tits. “Lavender comes to mind first, but then it feels warm before finishing with what I’m guessing is blueberries?” Vanilla plays with one of her nipples, “Seems like I made the batch pretty well, I had blueberries the night I collected the second ingredient.” She winks playfully and then moans. “Effects should be recorded to ensure safety details as well as useful for advertising.” Vanilla grabs a plume on the counter and seductively wets the tip. “Now Beryl darling, tell me what you feel.” She can feel her soaked panties dripping onto the exposed counter.

Beryl heartily laughs and then focuses his attention on within his body. The warmth grows within his chest and trickles down below his belt. He squirms and shifts in his stool trying to get a grasp on what she wants him to describe. “Hot. So hot right. I also need to let my cock breathe. It’s rubbing against. It’s.” Beryl keeps pausing to catch his breath, his heart begins to race. Vanilla teases Beryl with the feather end of the plume before writing aloud in her journal. “Subject is uncomfortably hot and desires to be fully nude. With a quickened heartbeat, should not be suitable for ones with underlying conditions.” Before Vanilla can finish her notes, Beryl strips his overalls off, exposing a massive cut cock. It throbs with delight as precum spurts from the tip. “Now Beryl, be honest with me honey. How big are you normally?” Vanilla drools while she plays with herself, awaiting his response.

Beryl shyly retorts and looks down past his crotch. “Usually pretty small, but definitely almost average? Sorry that’s a sore subject for - “ Vanilla seems to dip from her trance and purses Beryl’s lips with her finger. “A man has what he has, it should be special to anyone they are with.” Before getting back onto the counter, she undresses completely, revealing her chubby figure to her man. Vanilla subtly writes in the journal ‘Subject will have increased genitalia within minutes of ingestion. “You’ve been so patient my big strong man, now we get to the last part of our hands-on lesson.” Vanilla spreads her legs open and rubs her clit, inviting Beryl in while repeating “Duration is a case by case basis, but if tests are conducted well enough the range can be determined plus or minus a couple minutes.” Beryl stands up off the stool and tightly grips Vanilla’s chubby thighs.

“Your aroma is that of a crisp winter’s morning full of sunshine.” Beryl romantically groans as he lays his cock on top of Vanilla’s chest. She is stunned by how amazing he is with his words that she forgets just for a moment what is about to transpire. Just then, she feels the sheer girth of his dick. Vanilla has gone mute, basking in the total overwhelming sensations of sex with a man she is determined to make her husband. His hands are cold against her fur, but his cock is so warm. Their juices and sweat mix within one another becoming their very own blend of love. Vanilla rolls her eyes back before making sure she grabs onto Beryl’s musky flannel full of his scent. Each thrust shakes the counter, the bottles rhythmically clang against one another creating a symphony of sound.

Beryl slows down to catch his breath and moves her legs to rest upon his broad shoulders. Her paws warm against Beryl’s flannel and fur. He moves his large ends to cup the sides of her waist. Vanilla’s soft tender curves provide an adequate amount of surface area to grip. He slightly lifts her bottom half off the ground to continue thrusting deep into her body. Vanilla can feel his hands everywhere; all over her body. Her muscles convulse with delight as she feels his rugged hands on her ass. After a couple of minutes, their grunts become simultaneous. Vanilla finds a moment of rest to burst aloud, “Flip…me! And rail me until I can’t walk anymore!” Her paws dig into Beryl’s chest, imploring the request. Beryl obliges and with one swift motion, flips Vanilla over. He exposes her ass to his eyes, smacking each cheek to watch her jiggle.

Beryl runs his paws down Vanilla’s back as he fully thrusts into her. He can tell that she is almost about to climax. Thinking that she wants the excitement to last a little while longer, Beryl slows down and holds back. Just then, in an almost whining voice, Vanilla cries out in desperation “I want to cum NOW! Give me it all damn it, you fucking polar hunk!”

Beryl was never one to be a follower or one to directly receive orders, but something about this woman. This beautiful polar bear woman has him encapsulated, he is warm soft clay in her hands. “Yes…lass.” With one grunt after another, Beryl picks up his speed once more to appease his woman. Vanilla yips and moans with delight before her legs convulse and tense up. She can then feel Beryl leaning forward and down to her ear. “That’s a good girl.” He murmurs so softly she could barely hear it. This took her over the edge. Her juices flow out as Beryl slows down before exiting her body and resting atop of her ass. Vanilla catches her breath before muttering in slurred speech, “To…end…you…cum. Specifically with…this…strong… of a batch.” Beryl nods and grunts a “Yes, Boss!” before slowly stroking his hand up and down his elongated shaft.

Closer and closer he grows to climax. His mind races from when they just met that morning to just now. He thinks of the times in the future he’ll buy her flowers, make her breakfast, and someday raise their kids. Beryl thinks of the future he will have in the small rural town he met his wife in. He can feel Vanilla’s butt slowly rubbing part of his shaft. Beryl loses his concentration and cums all over her back. His warm thick ropes coagulate into her fur and around his cock. It takes a couple of seconds to drain his balls before Beryl sits back down on the stool. After taking a couple minutes to slow his breathing, Beryl makes his first notes into Vanilla’s journal. ‘Subject may experience large enough feelings that go beyond just a potion.’