Redneg Sudneb

Your finger lands on a spell and you pray to anyone listening that it is the right one. You take a deep breath and focus as hard as you can, chanting "Dlo sdog tel etaf lrufnu, egnahc em otni a yxes lrig!" The words glow a perverse pink and you are immediately seized by searing, bone breaking, flesh rending agony. You fall to the floor, sobbing, "How?! The...EEEE uniform!"

Wendell doesn't have to stand on his toes to look down on you now. "Silly neophyte. You cannot protect yourself from your own spell, everyone knows that." You really wish everyone had told you. Instead you had to go and learn it the hard way. Or is it the SOFT way?

After the initial agony passes, you begin to feel a warmth envelop you. You stare as your hands shrink and your hair fall off the suddenly supple skin of your arms. Your scalp tingles as your hair grows long and flaxen and falls over your shoulders. You face feels like it's being sucked by invisible lips, shifting and softening. You feel a burning pressure in your chest and you look down to see your worst fears manifest as your buttons pop and two buxom breasts pop out. You feel your ass and hips swell and your waist shrink to give you an hourglass figure. Time slows to a crawl as your cock swells and spurts in the single most potent orgasm of your life, only to go melty and wet and sliding inside you.

You don't have to look in the hand mirror that Wendell smugly holds over you to know what you've done. You have turned yourself into a sexy gender bent version of yourself. Judging by the way he's licking his lips, Wendell approves of your choice of spells. He snickers, saying, "Heh, well you're either a sissy slut or an idiot. Either way, I don't plan to pass on pussy delivered on a silver platter."

You feel so weak, both from what the transformation process took out of you, and from the confusing sensations of your new body. Your nipples are so achingly hard, and your pussy so shamefully, searingly warm...and wet...and...wanting? You tell yourself it is just the spell, that if you change back you'll be normal again. Knowing it is probably a futile gesture, you beg, "Please, Wendell, change me back. It's my first day!"

Wendell pretends to think about, torturing you with his pregnant pause before offering an ultimatum, "I'll tell you what. If you are a good girl today and play nice with me, I will change you back tomorrow. If not, you can try and figure it out for yourself." You wish you could bust his smirking lips wide open, but you don't know if you are going to get a better offer. Worse, a part of you...a pink, sticky part of you...wants to take him up on his offer.