You scurry off to find clothes.

“Good girl,” John says. Your milk swollen breasts sway and you find your drastically l widened hips moving sexily as you enter your former bedroom and find it also changed. There is a small chest of drawers and a seperate closet with your clothes in it, in addition to your former clothes. Clearly John Smith still exists. You presume he is a copy of you. If you appeal to his reason you might be able to undo this. Maybe. But then again from his perspective you are a mental copy of him stuck in a female breeder body. His personal sex toy. Would he want to give you up. You shudder. Maybe not. And then he could just change you into something else...

You look at your clothes. They’re skimpy and sluttish as you’d described them in your writing. You move to the bathroom and strip out of your bra and panties then quickly shower. The water feels erotic and warm on your skin and you fight the impulse to masturbate. Just. It’s hard. You step out and Rowell off your body, noting you’re shaven between the legs. Such a lovely pussy - and it’s yours!