A Long Boring Day... Until.

(Authors note. I'm going to make this a bit more of a standard high fantasy. It was needlessly complicated to try to imitate some byzantine marketplace.)

For the first time in your life, you're happy to be considered completely average. (Or maybe unattractive, but you push that possibility to the back of your mind.)
Customers wander in, appraise you with an irksome contempt, and quickly pass you by in favor of the more exotic salespersons. You look to your left and right, realizing that many of your "coworkers" are taking more dramatic poses, and elegantly, or suggestively, revealing their bodies to the bidders that gather around their podium. You, on the other hand, sit down, put your elbows on your knees, and rest your cheeks in your hands. If you weren't magically bound, and compelled to swap your body parts with the various patrons of this odd shop, you wouldn't be out of place sitting behind the counter at a gas station, or small town convenience store.

The day is so boring, in fact, that you almost wish someone would take interest in you... Not that you WANT to trade. But at least a bit of bidding could help the time pass. The light from the windows slowly fades to the yellow orange of the evening, and nearly all patrons have cleared the salesfloor, with an exception of a few hagglers huddled around Amphitrity stubbornly insisting on a certain price for her stripes. They conclude without reaching a deal. You stand, stretch, and begin to look around for your witchy employer to release you from your odd bonds, when one final patron scurries in.

Judging by the figures size, she's female, but she's so swaddled in cloth it's hard to tell. A dark hood hangs low over her face, and the shape of her body is nearly impossible to discern under her heavy garments. She pads from model to model, asking each of them their price for something, then grumbling, moves on to the next. She reaches you, and huffs. "How much for... For your dick?" Her voice is husky, and more androgynous than you expected, but her offer surprises you.

"Uhhh. Not for sale!" You quip, suddenly perking up.

"Everything's for sale here, how about 150 gold?"

You balked, and your mouth drops open stupidly. That price is nearly 3 years wages for the average worker in this world, and despite yourself, you actually begin wondering how bad it could be to swap away your precious cock. Shaking the thought from your head, you start to deny her, when a lead weight sinks coldly in your belly. The compulsion. She is right, You have to sell, if it's above the price on your sheet.

With a dry mouth, you look at your magical parchment for what the fair market price on your cock is. "two... two hundred and twenty?" You stammer in shock. Not a single trade you'd heard all day was that high.

"Done." The small figures declares.

"W-wait! That wasn't what I meant."

"Too late." She produces a heavy bag and begins to carefully count out the coinage as you desperately plea with her to change her mind. A moment later she drops the bag on the pedestal, and the same electric shiver you felt when you were first collared ripples through your body until the sensation comes to rest on your member. As the shiver fades, you don't notice a difference.

You watch in surprise as the girl gropes her groin, and laughs in relief. "Finally." Her hand goes to her head, and she turns back to you. "Listen... this..." She glances away. "This wasn't exactly a normal change you just agreed to."

"What are you talking about?" You stammer, suddenly looking at your own groin with a growing panic. "I didn't agree to anything."

"Just... Well." She glances around, then whispers. "Goodluck." And runs off, feet padding loudly in the silent hall.

You pull the waist band of your trousers forward, and gasp as you find a smooth mound, with a curly red muff in the place of your expected dick. You grasp your groin in disbelief, and find a foreign anatomy. Tight and subtle lips greet your probing fingers. They're soft, and smooth. You brush your tiny pearl in disbelief, sending a surprising shiver up your spine.

You look up, and realize you're the center of attention. You pull your hand back, suddenly ashamed of your actions, but the other salespeople don't seem to have noticed. Instead, their curious, concerned, contemptuous mutterings seem to repeat one word over and over. "Curse"

Amphitrity looks at you sympathetically. "John What have you done?"