Camille took the small bottle from my hand and looked at it.  The expression on her face was hard to read, but it appeared to indicate some lingering doubts in her mind.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked, looking up at me.  “I mean, are you really, really sure?”  There was no concealing the genuine concern in her voice.

“You mean is it safe?” I said.  “Yes; it’s perfectly safe.  100% natural, organic ingredients, hypo-allergenic, and—”

“That’s not what I mean,” she clarified.  “I mean…are you sure you’re okay with it?”

“Well, of course I am!” I said with a smile.  “After all, this whole thing was my idea in the first place!”

“I know, I know, but…”  She shook her head.  “I still don’t quite get the appeal for you, though.  I mean, I can understand why most guys would fantasize about being invisible—you know, being able to sneak into women’s locker-rooms and dressing-rooms and stuff, but…to forgo all that and have an invisible girlfriend instead?  I don’t quite get why you’d find any appeal in that.”

“Well—”

“I mean, don’t get me wrong.  I want to understand.  I'm not closed-minded about it or put off by it or anything like that.  I genuinely want to understand why you guys like it, and what it does for you, so that I can…well…you know…”

“Well…” I said as I leaned back and thought about it carefully.  “There are different aspects of it that appeal to different guys for different reasons.  Some guys like to see empty clothes walking around by themselves.  Other guys like to see an invisible woman take her clothes off, stripping down to, well, literally nothing.  Others just like to see her fade away into thin air.  And…still others are more interested in the…” I hesitated.  “Implicit ‘dominance and submission’ aspects.”

Camille stared blankly at me, so I elaborated.

“Well, there is a very strong potential for that, after all,” I said.  “I mean, think about it.  An invisible woman would be in a very powerful position, and could easily dominate almost anybody she wanted to, couldn’t she?”

“Yeah…yeah, that’s true…”  She agreed uneasily, then eyed me curiously.  “That’s the main appeal for you…isn’t it?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.  “You like the ‘powerful woman’ angle, don’t you?”

“Well…yeah…!” I admitted with only a moment’s hesitation, and with an embarrassed smile.  “I love the idea of a woman having such an incredible power, and to think of all the things she could do with it.  You know; nothing cruel or malicious, that doesn’t appeal to me.  But just…you know…having that power at her command, the freedom to do whatever she pleased.  Particularly to a significant other—a boyfriend or husband or whatever.”  I nodded in summation.  “Yeah, that aspect of it is definitely the biggest turn-on for me: the ‘empowered woman’ angle.”

Camille remained silent, continuing to regard me with a curious expression that was difficult to read.

“I mean, I can see that aspect of it must have at least crossed your mind, since we first started talking about it.”  I added, hoping to give her some extra encouragement to go forward.

Still, she appeared to entertain some lingering doubts, so I decided to try a slightly different tack.  “Haven’t you ever fantasized about what it would be like to be invisible?” I asked.  “Like when you were a kid, for instance?” 

She blinked, then slowly revealed a demure smile.  “Oh, sure,” she said.  “What kid hasn’t?  Yeah, I used to think about that sometimes when I was a little girl.  I remember watching the old Invisible Woman movie on TV a couple of times, or watching re-runs of My Invisible Wife, and thinking about how great it would be if I could turn invisible like they did, and all the fun things I could do with it.”

“What kind of things?” I asked with a smile, unable to resist asking the inevitable question.  

“Oh, just…” she looked away, lost in thought for a moment.  “You know, the usual stuff.  Like at school or something, maybe…sneak up to a teacher’s desk and get a look at the answers to an upcoming test or something...  Or maybe…listen in on my best friends’ conversations when they thought I wasn’t around, and find out what they really thought of me.”  She paused, and grinned widely.  “But OH!  One real big thing I would’ve loved to do was to get back at the mean girls who used to tease me about my weight!  I would’ve loved to be able to turn invisible, just so that I could go and bitch-slap the hell out of this one girl who was the ringleader of the bunch, and then scare the crap out of all the other girls for good measure!  Maybe do a whole ‘Poltergeist’ number on them or something!”  She burst into embarrassed giggles, and covered her mouth with her hands.

“Why, bless your wicked little heart!” I grinned at her.  “So the idea does hold some appeal for you, doesn’t it?” 

“Yeah…  Yeah, I guess it does…  Kinda…”

“Well, now you can make it happen for real.  Make the dream come true.”  I paused, and gave her an encouraging little nudge on the shoulder.  “So…why not give it a try?  What have you got to lose?”

She looked at me again, her laughter subsided and her demeanor suddenly turned serious.  “Well…I just… I don’t know.  I guess I'm kind of…scared, a little bit.”

“Scared of what?”

She shrugged.  “Well, I'm afraid of…of scaring you, for one thing.  I guess I'm afraid that…once it’s no longer only a fantasy for you, but becomes a reality, you might not like it as much as you think you would.  You might find that it’s a little too real, a little too…scary.  You might even get freaked-out by me if you couldn’t see me.  And I just hate the thought of…well, becoming something frightening to you.”

“Well…I…don’t think that’s likely to happen,” I said, trying to reassure her.  “Really, I think the sexual excitement I’d feel would vastly outweigh whatever fear I might feel.”

She lowered her gaze to the bottle once more, and continued to stare at it for a long time.  “Well…if you’re absolutely, really, truly sure you’re all right with this…”

“I am, I am; trust me!” I said, trying—and failing—to conceal the growing excitement and impatience in my voice.  

She raised the bottle before her eyes, examining it closely.  As it caught the light, we could both see its deep, dark red, almost burgundy color.  Her gaze rested upon it for a moment, then she unscrewed the lid, breaking the seal and set the cap down on the coffee-table.  She lifted the bottle to her nostrils and inhaled deeply.  “Hmm…smells a little like…cherry brandy…and clove-oil…and a little bit like licorice.  What did you say is in it again?”

“Ummm…” I picked up the sheaf of paperwork that came with the Invisibility Potion, and turned to the list of ingredients, and began to read them off aloud, one by one.  After I’d concluded, I read the bold-font line at the very bottom:  “All 100% guaranteed natural, safe and non-toxic.”   

“And how long does it last again?”

“Ummm” I consulted the paperwork again.  “Rule of thumb is, one ounce per hour, so…an eight ounce bottle should give you about eight hours, give or take, depending on such things as dilution, body size, weight, mass and other factors.”

She smiled.  “It may be a little less than eight hours for me, then.  After all, I am a bit more full-figured than most girls.”

I couldn’t help but smile.  It was true; she did have a more curvaceous figure than most girls, but I never had any complaints, as that was, truth be known, my preference.  I loved her full-figured curves, and made it no secret.  In fact, it was a kind of long-standing, good-natured, affectionate joke between the two of us: my fondness for her curvaceous, size-14 figure, her full, round, luscious hips and derriere, and her magnificent 38D breasts.  Although she had been self-conscious about her figure and weight all her life, to my eyes, she was a living sex-goddess (a fact I frequently pointed out to her.  “After all,” I often reminded her.  “Marilyn Monroe was a size 14, and she was an international sex-symbol!”)

“What else does it say?”

“Hmm?  Oh, Um…” Stirred from my brief reverie, I forced myself back to focusing on the page, and resumed reading aloud.  “The usual fine-print disclaimers and stuff.  General Warnings: This product is intended for use by women only.  Males are strongly advised against its use for any reason!  Accidental or intentional ingestion by males will produce undesirable side-effects, including but not limited to…”  I paused.  “Blah, blah, blah.”  

I skipped ahead to the next paragraph and read on: “Do not exceed two consecutive 8-ounce doses within a 24-hour period.  Dosages exceeding the recommended amount may result in adverse side-effects, including, but not limited to, rash, itching, intestinal upset, blurred vision, excessive urination, hyperactivity, insomnia and impaired judgment.”

I turned a page and continued reading:  “Please use Invisibility Potion responsibly.  Use of Invisibility Potion may result in loss of personal inhibitions in some individuals.  Ingestion of alcoholic beverages while invisible may enhance this effect.  Manufacturer does not assume responsibility for any actions undertaken by individual or individuals while invisible, or any consequences resulting thereof.  Manufacturer is not responsible for any negative impact upon personal relationships, marriages, or domestic partnerships.  Individual users assume full responsibility for their own conduct, actions and the consequences resulting thereof while under the influence of this product.  This product is not recommended for individuals with nervous disorders, anger management problems, those diagnosed with persecution-complexes, or other, similar mental or emotional issues.”  I concluded, and folded the papers back up.  “The usual horseshit, in other words.”

“Was it very expensive?”

“Well…it’s not cheap,” I admitted.  “But it’s not anywhere near as pricey as you might think.  All the ingredients are natural, just like the materials say.  Most of them are even domestic, in fact.  It’s just a few of the more rare and exotic ingredients that really cost anything, the gynocaine and oestrocaine compounds, for example.  Those are derived from rare tropical plants which are found only on the island of Themyscira, and so they all have to be imported.  Then there’s duties and import-fees and customs that go along with that and all have to be factored in, and...”  I shrugged, restraining myself from going off into full-blown ‘bean-counter’ mode.  “Well…it all adds up.”

“Well…fortunately, I can afford it,” she replied, smiling tightly.  “If I can afford to buy nice clothes,” she plucked at her designer silk blouse.  “I can certainly afford this.”  She raised the small bottle as if giving a toast.

“And, it’ll be well worth it, believe me!”  I nodded with a smile.  “You might even find you like it better than a nice new wardrobe!”

She looked at the bottle for one long moment, then back at me again, as if awaiting final approval.  “And if I like it, I can always buy more.  Right?”

“Right!” I assured her, fervently hoping that she would.

She continued to look at me for one long, lingering moment, the last tiny trace of hesitancy remaining on her face.  “Well…” she said.  “If you’re really, truly sure you want to see me disappear…”

“I do, I do!” I said, taking her free hand in my own, gently squeezing it, both to further encourage her and to conceal my own growing agitation.  “Please, Camille…  Please…be invisible for me…!”

A subtle change of the look in her eyes indicated final acquiescence on her part.  “Well…all right, then…” she said. 

I released her hand, and with a final hesitation, she raised the bottle to her lips.  “Here goes,” she said, and slowly, carefully swallowed the contents, taking care not to waste the tiniest drop.  When it was finished, she replaced the cap and set the bottle back onto the coffee-table.  

“Mmmm, it’s rather tasty,” she murmured.  “Tastes a little like spiced cherry brandy, but with a kind of funky, oily under taste to it as well.  Almost as though they made a drink out of brandied incense, if that makes sense.”  

She then turned to face me.  “Well?” she said.  “Am I disappearing yet?”

“Not yet,” I said.  “Give it a few minutes.  Then you should start to feel something.”

Another few moments had passed.  “I think…I think I'm starting to feel something,” she said.  “It’s weird…kind of a warm, tingling sensation, right in the middle of my stomach.”  She smiled.  “Are you sure it wasn’t brandy I drank?”

“Quite sure,” I smiled back at her.

“Oooooo, it feels nice!” She said, her smile widening.  “Kind of a bubbly feeling, like drinking strong champagne!  Or like when you soak in a hot tub, and feel the little bubbles creeping up all over your skin!  Kinda like that!”  She grinned widely, and softly rubbed her hands up and down her arms, savoring the sensation.

“Yeah, I'll bet!” I said.

“The feeling’s getting stronger now,” she went on, beaming widely.  “Much stronger!  And I think…I think it’s spreading, too…!  Yeah, I can feel it!  The tickling, tingling feeling is strongest in my stomach, but it’s spreading out to all the rest of my body, too!  All over, all the way from my scalp, clear down to my fingers and toes!  Even my—”  She repressed a giggle, and covered her mouth in embarrassment.  “Even my nipples!”  

I couldn’t help but steal a quick glance down at her breasts to confirm it with my own eyes.  Sure enough, her nipples were indeed hardening, protruding most prominently and agreeably through the silken fabric of her blouse.

“Mmmmmm, it’s really strong now!” she said.  “How about now?  Am I starting to disappear yet?”

“I think so…!” I said, leaning closer to her.  “Yeah…!  I think it’s starting to take effect!”  

And it was true.  Her face, normally light-complected to begin with, seemed to be getting paler and paler with each passing moment.  Then it occurred to me that it really wasn’t getting paler, but merely more translucent, the light from the end-table behind her passing through her increasingly transparent head like frosted-glass.  Her long, wavy, normally raven-colored hair, worn in Bettie Page-like bangs, also seemed to be growing increasingly transparent, looking more like a stylish mane of fine glass fibers, gently framing her rapidly-fading face, and cascading translucently down past her shoulders.   

“Wow…!” I said, as my heart began to pound at the uncanny sight unfolding before me.  “This is amazing!”

“Wait, I wanna see!”  With that, she leapt up from where she sat beside me on the sofa, and bounded into the bedroom.  I followed close on her heels, anxious not to miss even a second of her vanishing.  Oddly enough, it was only then that I noticed her hands were also becoming transparent.  I suddenly felt so stupid for not having noticed and paid more attention to them sooner.

We stepped into the bedroom, and her frosted-glass hand reached over and switched on the light.  There, in the mirror over the dresser, she saw for the first time the uncanny sight of her own reflection, rapidly fading from view.

“God, this is amazing!” she said, in a combination of awe, wonder, excitement, and, it was clear, just a trace of fear.  “I—I can’t believe this!  I really am turning invisible!”

“I know, I know!” I said with a smile, stepping behind her and watching her vanishing reflection with her.  “Isn’t it great?”

Moments passed, and she continued to fade.  Her gossamer-like hair was the first to disappear, the crystalline glasslike fibers vanishing one strand at a time, soon leaving behind only a vaguely-defined, translucent crystal oval suspended in space, the last remaining indicator of her face.  The oval itself continued to diminish and fade away in sections:  Her forehead, chin and cheeks seemed to diminish first, followed shortly thereafter by the bridge of her nose, leaving only her eyes and mouth remaining, like the Cheshire Cat.  It was both eerie and strangely sexy to see a pair of full, luscious lips and pair of violet blue eyes simply hanging there, suspended in space.  The lips were the next to fade away, leaving only the eyes remaining for a few moments longer, glittering like a pair of twin sapphires in the void.  They remained just long enough to flash me one final glance in the mirror, before they too blinked away into oblivion above the open collar of her blouse.

“God…!  I'm…I'm gone!”  her voice half-choked from the collar.  She raised her arms before her, and there, at the ends of her sleeves, the faint traces of her hands remained for a few more seconds, before they too faded away and disappeared, leaving only empty sleeves behind.  Another tiny, choked cry sounded from the empty collar.

The empty cuffs jerked repeatedly toward and away each other, and I heard faint percussive sounds coming from them.  I recognized the sound as that of her hands striking each other and rubbing against each other, as though to confirm that they were, in fact, actually there.

She then extended her empty sleeves forward, pointing the empty cuffs directly at the mirror.  “Look at that!” she half-cried.  “Look at that!  My hands are gone!  You can see right down the sleeves!  See?”

She pivoted around and held up her empty cuffs before my face, causing me to recoil.  I couldn’t help it; it was creepy to have a pair of empty cuffs suddenly thrust in my face that way.  “See?!?” she repeated, shaking them at me, as if for emphasis.

“I—I see, I see,” I said as I stared at the empty cuffs, now inches from my face, trying to keep the rising excitement in my voice from becoming too noticeable.

She lowered the cuffs and her empty clothes turned back to face the dresser-mirror once more.  “Man, this is creepy!!!” she said.

She lingered on the sight for moments longer, then turned to face the full-length mirror in the far corner of the bedroom, where she saw herself in total for the first time.  I repositioned myself to remain behind her, now enjoying the view from the unique vantage-point above her collar, viewing it through her now-invisible head.

Together, we looked at her reflection in the full-length mirror.  She now appeared to be nothing more than an empty, long-sleeved silk blouse and a knee-length leather skirt, while below, her black pantyhose defined the luscious contours of her shapely, but now-transparent legs, her feet sheathed in a pair of stylish, expensive, high-heeled black pumps.  I was suddenly glad now that she decided not to change out of her work-clothes and into something ‘comfortable’ before engaging in this little experiment.

“I can hardly believe that’s really me in the mirror!” she said in wonder, holding out an empty sleeve to her reflection.  “I feel like I'm looking at a mannequin in a store-window, except that it’s moving!  It really is me!”  She shuddered.  

Her empty clothes suddenly swiveled around to face me.  “Are you sure you’re not totally freaked-out by this?” her voice asked eerily from empty collar.

“Believe me, I'm not,” I said with an ear-to-ear grin and beads of sweat now soaking my forehead and scalp.  And if that were not enough to convince her, there was also the conspicuous bulge in my pants, now growing more and more insistent by the moment.

“Boy, I know I would be!” She said, slowly turning to face her ghostly reflection once more.  

But I barely heard her.  My attention was distracted by the uncanny sight she presented before me.  My gaze slowly ran up and down her length, from the empty collar of her blouse, down to her bottom—her magnificent, round, tight-leather-sheathed bottom, my eyes continuing to linger there for moments longer—before continuing on down to her shapely, transparent, nylon-sheathed legs.

She remained silent for another long moment, then slowly pivoted to face me again.  “I sure wish you could try this stuff too,” she said.  “That way, we could at least be invisible together.”  She paused.  “I'll bet you’d love that, wouldn’t you?” 

“Yeah, I would,” I said, sorrowfully.  “But…I can’t.  Remember, the potion doesn’t work on men.  It only works on women.”

“Yeah,” she said.  “That’s too bad.  I wonder why that is?”

“I'm not sure,” I admitted.  “I'm not sure if they made it that way on purpose, so that it would always be strictly a ‘For Girls Only” thing, or if the ingredients themselves just happen to have a natural affinity for female hormones.  Or maybe they only work on X chromosomes.  Or something.  I'm not really sure.  I’ve heard all kinds of rumors, so I don’t really know for sure.”

“What happens if guys drink it?”

“Well…in addition to the side-effects they list in the paperwork, I’ve also heard various stories and rumors,” I said.  “I’ve heard that, in some cases, it makes the guy violently ill and he throws up all over the place.  Other cases, he gets a bad case of the runs.  In some rare cases, they say it even causes impotence.”

“Well, we definitely don’t want that!” she laughed nervously.  “Otherwise, it defeats the whole purpose of this thing, doesn’t it?”  Her tone seemed to be brightening somewhat, indicating that she was at least warming to her transformation.

I nodded.  “But yeah, I wish I could be invisible like you, and get to see what it’s like and everything, but…” I sighed sadly.  “I can’t.  It’s something I’ll never get to experience.”

“That’s too bad,” she said.  “I mean, if we could at least do this together, then maybe I wouldn’t feel quite so nervous about the whole thing.”  

“Yeah…” I said, failing utterly to conceal the disappointment in my voice.

“Poor guy…” she said, reaching up an empty cuff to stroke my cheek with a soft, invisible hand, causing me to recoil again, though this time it was less from the sight of an empty cuff approaching my face than from the unexpected touch of her hand.  “I guess this must be so frustrating for you, huh?”

I nodded, sadly.  “Yeah...  In a way…”

“Poor boy…”  The soft, unseen hand caressed my cheek, then lingered there for a moment.

She then turned back to face the mirror over the dresser.  She leaned over close to it, as if examining the view down her open collar and into the empty interior of her blouse (I know I certainly enjoyed the view from where I stood.) 

“But…on the other hand,” she went on in a subtle shift of tone as the blouse gave a little shrug.  “At least women can still get to enjoy it, even if you men can’t.  So that’s something, at least.”  

“Well, you don’t have to rub it in,” I said, bristling slightly.  

“I'm not,” she said, and the empty blouse shrugged again.  “I'm just…trying to look at the bright side, that’s all.  After all,” the empty clothes pivoted quickly to face me.  “There’s not much else to look at here, is there?”  

I continued to stare down the empty collar in mute fascination, barely listening to her words.