And your eyes open

You blink harshly, savoring the pain of every flutter of your eyelids. Your head doesn't hurt, just as long as you don't use it. You can feel the throb against the base of your skull, and as you rise to you elbows you vomit. Rolling to allow what is in your mouth to fall to the grass below. All at once you feel sick, your stomach cramps in an area you've never felt before. You look down to see your trousers covered in blood.

You weep from the pain, you weep from the confusion, you weep because it feels like the right thing to do. You remove your ruined trousers in phases, and look down at your now naked body. Your skin is soft and smooth, but oily and filthy. you have barely delineated breasts with thick protruding, feminine nipples. Your roll of fat is gone, replaced with a semi-toned flat stomach that perfectly showcases your thick hairy-pubic mound, covered in black hair with a jutting erect clitoris inside it's rigid casing, just above a soft pink sheath.

Your brain isn't firing at all, but you remember being a man, you remember your betrothed being scared when you took her in-front of her father on the altar. You remember how shallow she was on the inside , how careful you had to be not to hurt her. You remember the feeling of the soft spot just behind her belly button. You remember her as she began to spasm and moan uncontrollably, the husky, guttural tone, you remember the feeling of dominance, of envelopment, of fulfillment.

Now, you know nothing and as you slip back under, you regret everything.