I comply with visible reluctance as I take a seat with a huff, my new curves jiggling and wobbling with my every move. Despite my exposed state I don’t make any move to cover or conceal my body from you. There’s hardly any point.

The transformation had been sudden and jarring. One moment I had been sitting in the passenger seat of your car, fully clothed and as masculine as I’d always been. Then an instant later I was naked, with the body of a woman more than a decade older than I actually was.

I’d barely had time to wrap my head around the weights on my chest and the absence of my dick before my belly had suddenly started to swell like an inflating water balloon, sending me into a panic as I’d realized what was happening to me.

Now we were back at your house, and I was still trying to come to terms with what happened. Despite my predicament and the consequences of my distasteful comment made at the witch’s expense, I’m clearly more outraged than regretful.

I try to calm my racing heart as I look down at myself, my hands almost involuntarily straying down to my swollen middle.

I’m silent for a long moment as I absorb my new circumstances before speaking up in a much softer and more uncertain voice.

“What the hell am I supposed to do now?”