Connie the confused

Where before you had stood a head taller than Red Sonja, you are now a head shorter. You stare up at her, your sense of dread palpable. You have breasts! Comely things on a woman but you are no woman by Crom!! They are full, heavy, rounded with upturned nipples that are now big - no bigger than gold doubloons. Your now overlarge loincloth sags about your narrow wast and outward curving hips to drop ignominiously around your slim girlish ankles. You look down, past your bare swaying chest and stare in shock. “Crom!” you say, your voice squeaking a higher than you are used to. Where your manhood once greeted your gaze was now a very female sex. “I am unmade!” You mutter. Even your voice is feminine.

You look at Sonja in bewilderment, your hands now slender and delicate, raising to cover your newfound modesty. The air in the chamber grows colder, the very stones seeming to mock your plight. The crimson jewel lies in your smaller palm, its malevolent glow dimming as the last of its power drains into the transformation. “What foul magic is this?” you hiss, trying to find your usual gruff voice but it is gone, replaced by something softer, more feminine. Your muscles are gone. Your body is that of a lovely woman, with curves that you never knew you could possess. You try to lift your sword and struggle.

“Hmmm, this is a problem…” Sonja says.

You look around for a way to reverse the curse. Your eyes fall upon nothing that could restore your lost manhood. This seems to be permanent!

“You look ever so cute. Like a king’s prized concubine…” you blush at her words. “I think I have something that may fit you in my pack,” Red Sonja suggests as she pulls out a diaphanous and skimpy silken slavegirl outfit.

You feel the heat of rage in your cheeks. This is not the spoils of war you had anticipated. “Dress me in that and I’ll show you how cute I can be with your intestines around my neck!” you snarl, tossing the loincloth aside.