You manage (somehow), to keep silent.

More darker, deeper, incriminating things want to pour from your lips, but you manage, albeit struggling, to hold your tongue. You look up at her tentatively. Your legs squirm together unconsciously beneath you, your girly thighs rubbing the fabric of your panties against your wet kitty. Lisa notices your discomfort.

"You know..." She opens her mouth. "I think I'll be merciful." You almost breathe a sigh of relief. "A sick little pervert like you probably doesn't deserve that serious of a punishment." She pulls out a pencil and flips open the rulebook. "But..." She looks over you with a glint in her eyes.

As she scribbles something down, you feel the world around the two of you spin. The crowd of people that had gathered seem to disperse into mist, and you bring up your hands to your head in fright. The air seems to whirl all over your body. You see a lacy bra matching your panties appear cupping your breasts, followed by a black shirt that seems to closly hug your waifish, feminine body. A brown skirt grants you modesty for your lower body, and you feel a pair of thigh-highs tighten around your slim, smooth legs. A slight tug on your hair make you realize that you're now sporting a neatly tied ponytail. Finally, the wind stops, and the world normalizes. You look at your new dress and gasp. You're now dressed just like a cafe waitress. You look back at Lisa in shock. She closes the rulebook then grins.

"Since you like petite girls so much, I've decided that you'll be one. Have fun being a cute little barista, Nicky." You want to say something, but she holds out a finger. "Don't forget that I have the rulebook now, sweetie. You don't want this to get any worse, do you?" You look down at your feet in shame. "Somebody like you doesn't deserve power like this," she lectures as she turns around. "Now you better run along back to the cafe, your next shift will be starting soon." Walking off, you're left alone to stew in your fate. To be the embodyment of your very fetish. A cute and sexy petite girl for the rest of your life. And your new body, it was turning you on! Your panties had become dry when your outfit changed, but once again, they were soaked.

You grope your breasts through your shirt.

"Oh god..." you moan. Your voice was a **** little mewl, like a kitten begging for attention, affection, and touch. You couldn't take it. You needed something... somebody on top of you. Somebody to dominate you. Somebody to... stick something inside of you... What were these thoughts! You were so horny... a horny, naughty, petite little girl. You rub your legs against one another idly.

A sharp ringing sound coming from your skirt pocket rips you from your lustful daydream. Scrambling, you reach inside and pull out a phone. The caller name reads... Christopher?

You answer.

"Hey baby, you there? Even after I said those things, we're still gonna' hang tonight right? Just checking if my cute lil' devil's alright."

The voice is thick and masculine. It sounds strong and manly, more manly than you'd ever been as a man. And this voice, presumably, belongs to who you can assume is Christina, now Christopher, your boyfriend.