No, thanks

“Thanks, but - no thanks.”

You shake your head this was nice and you accentually wouldn’t mind being a model. But - this whole thing is stupid, you’re man, for crying out loud, this body everyone here is drooling over isn’t you! And come next week you WILL be a man again. Yes. Most definitely. And bargaining with the old hag to give you a male model’s body – probably won’t work. So…

But then all the other jobs you were offered and encouraged by the old had to take wouldn’t have worked come next Monday, would they?

For the first time during all these hectic events crushing over you you're actually thinking about logistics for a second.

If… WHEN the hag turned you back in to a man, everything that has changed so drastically that it can’t work for a man must turn back, right? This whole thing wouldn't make any sense otherwise. Unless she doesn’t REALLY plan to turn you back in any case... you shake your head. You just have to assume she does and care about that when you get to it. Anyway…

No. You’re not taking the risk to leave your company and maybe not get back.

Also: You. Are. Not. a. Woman. Making money by showing off your tits and ass is demeaning!

Not matter how much you like it.

Uhm...

“This isn’t my world. Definitely doesn’t have any long term perspectives for me.”

He looks at you – your body – disappointed.

“You sure? I promise we can make something out of you. A good career!”

“No. Thanks. Won’t happen.”

You put your money into your purse and he sighs.

“Alright. Your loss. And the loss of the whole modelling world, really, but it’s your choice. Get dressed, I’ll drive you home”

You do and he does, ending another exiting day in your new body.