I have a vagina

You pause for a moment as you think to yourself... what's it like to be a girl? Well, between your legs at least? It's not like you'll ever get a better chance at trying it yourself. Besides, you're home alone and have no appointments awaiting.

'I have a vagina,' you type into the typewriter and do a few line shifts. "Welp, here comes nothing," you whisper to yourself as you feel a shifting in your trousers. There's some discomfort, but not as bad as when your dick got stuck in a jam in your pants.

But suddenly you feel very dizzy. Your heart is beating in your ears as sounds get muted and you get tunnel vision for a moment, your body prickling as if waking up from a squeezed nerve. You find yourself catching your balance with a hand on the desk before falling off your chair, a blonde strand of hair falling in front of your face tickling your nose.

You go cross eyed at the long strand of hair for a few breaths as you feel the tingling fade. As you pull up your free hand to try and pull it off, or at least out of your face, you realize your nails are pedicured and painted. Oh, and they're connected to small, thin fingers, protruding from small hands, protruding from lithe forearms...

Your shirt has long, stretchy and comfortable sleeves. Which it didn't have before when it was a t-shirt. You look down and see the shirt isn't a shirt, but a top with a impressive neckline. Revealing a pair of pert mounds lifting the stretchy cotton material from your waist.

"Oh, shit," you croak, then swallow, in a feminine voice, and close your eyes hard for a second while shaking your head. Yup, there's a lot of loose, long hair up there now... and earrings, from the feeling of it.

You got a mirror over by the door. You haven't looked at it yet, but you know it's there and you know you have to confront the situation. You're beginning to feel normal again, your pulse is down, but your body feels... weird, but not weird? You open your eyes and look straight ahead for a second to get your bearings. Then you place your legs beneath yourself, stand up, turn around and look at the mirror.

You're not sure what surprises you more: Your new feminine form, or the new full body mirror which previously had just been a landscape mirror for checking your face. As you think about it, you smile at yourself and put on a bit more of a confident demeanor. Nothing of this is new, new, right? You've owned that mirror for years, you're wearing one of your comfy tops and casual jeans. You've put on some basic make-up and jewelry for snaps and selfies.

Hell, you're currently so fucking casual, you're not even wearing a bra. Anyone could sneak a peak if you pulled this neckline down like this for a split second. No, the surprise here is the typewriter that can change reality to whatever you want it to be. You remember being a guy, but you got curious about the mysteries of womanhood, and it seems the typewriter added the subtext to your request and didn't just give you a... well..?

Yeah, it did give you a fine example of womanhood as well. Well, one that you remember having since you blossomed and stuffed it for years with various contraception, sex toys and boys until it became a flexible fuck hole veteran... Not that you were in doubt, but you should probably not trust a magical typewriter to do your bidding faithfully. If anything, you think with your wording, you should have been a male with a demonic snatch like this in your pants, not the entire package.

"Well, it's close enough, I guess," you sigh casually as you pull your underwear and pants back up. You feel slightly horny, so some distractions might be in order soon, but you got other questions on your mind and other ideas for the typewriter.