Mialee the Elven Barslave

You awaken on a straw mat. Soon feeling the fresh weight on your chest, panicking you sit up only for your new massive breasts to bounce along. You feel these new assets only to find them perfectly genuine. You feel your face only to fine your features fine and noble rather than the rugged features you prided yourself in, your stomach drops even more as you find the pair of elven ears on the side of your head. The only things currently in your possession seems to be the thin shift you are wearing and the collar of ownership around your neck.

"Are you quite done yet?" you hear a sultry voice sound from above. Looking that way you see the woman who served you that fateful brew, now dressed in a floor length gown with long sleeves, though her low neckline still leaves plenty to be enjoyed. Though the staff in her hand and the pointed hat on her head are really what draw your attention.

"Witch!" you shriek in your now feminine voice.

"Apothecary, if you will," she responds, her tone making it clear if you stick with the former title you'll find out how powerful she truly is.

"What have you done to me?" you demand, still not fully processing your lack of power in this situation.

"I'm an apothecary, I simply provided a medicine for the illness of the kingdom. And at quite a low rate I might add," she smirks down at you.

"I can have you enslaved for this," your mad grin that once struck fear into the hearts of so many, now laughable on your new features. "I'll have you sealed inside a box that will only allow access to your holes and let you be a plaything for my armies."

"Oh, and what armies does the elven **** have?" she smirks and laughs at your predicament as it finally sets in how powerless you are. "Rest easy, your first shift with your new master starts soon, Mialee."

And with that she saunters out of the room.