Punk-Elf Jamie

"Hmm...Your body is perfect, but your style needs some adjusting. Change your hair to hot pink. Grow piercings all along your ears, a ring in your nose, snakebite studs, a tongue-bar, nipple bars, a navel stud, and a clit bar. Have coiling vines tattooed along both arms, coming together in a mess of vines on your back, making for an elegant and vaguely sexual shape on your back. Have a bluebird tattooed on your belly, wings extended like they're holding your boobs, head nestled between those boobs. Have pink, blue, and yellow butterflies in various sizes tattooed along the outside of your right leg, stretching from your ankle to your knee."

James felt a series of pinches and stinging strokes as his body grew the elaborate decorations that Steve described. James couldn't see the full extent of the changes, but he certainly felt the new additions, especially the new piercings pulling on his nipples and clit.

"Next it's time to tailor your mind. I don't really care who you are now, since I'm just going to rewrite you to what I want, starting with your name. From now on, you're Jamie, not James. You can't even think of your old name in relation to yourself. You are completely Jamie, and you are a woman, not a man."

Jamie paled. She just had her name stripped from her. She knew it was a new name, but she didn't know what her old one even was. Well, she remembered being called the name 'James', but that didn't really make sense. That wasn't her name, couldn't have been her name. Worse, she noticed that she was thinking of herself as she. She was supposed to be a guy, but she knew deep down she wasn't. She was a woman.

Steve continued, "You're a total punk-rocker. You hate authority, love loud music, and have a mouth that would make a sailor blush. You wear punk-rocker clothes, you listen to punk-rock music, and you love hanging with other punk-rockers. You feel like your tattoos are totally you, completely your style, and express your love of nature and hatred of 'the man.' If someone tells you they don't feel punk, just tell them that you don't fit into their little boxes."

Jamie felt her mind rewritten even further. Fuck, her tats were great. She'd need to get a whole new wardrobe when this wanker let her go. She was wondering where to get a good pair of combat boots when Steve continued.

"You're very sexually free. You're completely bisexual, and love freaking out prudes with your sexuality and your body. You especially love flashing people, showing that you don't care about their Puritan hang-ups about the human body. You'd be a total slut, except that you'll only ever sleep with me. You'll never go as far as having actual sex with anyone else, although you can make out with all the women you want. You're also constantly horny, with a libido that would put a teenage boy's to shame, needing to get off multiple times a day."

Fuuuuck, Jamie felt hot. Her new body felt like it was made for sex. It almost felt a shame that she'd only ever use toys on her body. There was no way she was letting this fucker ever touch her, not after upending her whole life. Sure, she felt fucking better than ever before, but still, fuck Steve. Maybe she could sneak away soon? Then she could find somewhere private get off before buying herself a new wardrobe.