Yes, thankfully…

Towards the end of the night, you had started to lose hope that you would see her. But the flickering flame and desperation to have your cock back kept you glued to your seat. Until finally, you saw her. She was wearing a very similar outfit to last time, except now with a skirt and a band tee instead of a dress. Almost immediately, you get up from your seat to approach her once more.

She of course notices you approaching rapidly, and a knowing yet sadistic smile crosses her lips. She looks at you and you can tell: it’s her fault. And she knows exactly what she did to you and why you’re here. Fear strikes your gut as your words catch in your throat. You try to speak, but words just don’t come out, it’s like you can’t make any sound! Is this… magic?

“So the cocky asshole comes crawling back, albeit a little less cocky than before. Or a lot, you had some pretty impressive length there.” She teases you knowingly, and although it angers you it stirs up more unwanted feelings inside. “I’m guessing you’re here to yell at me and demand I reverse it, ‘or else’?”

You feel an almost pinching sensation ease off your larynx, and you can speak again. Trying to think as calmly and rationally as you can, you consider your next words very carefully, especially seeing as the only person you know who could reverse this is so spiteful.

“P-please… I don’t like these feelings… it’s scary.” You say the words but it doesn’t sound like something you’d say, although it still rings true in your heart. Your feminine arousal brings a deep shame to your mind and all you want is to erase it.

For once, the girl seems to show some measure of genuine empathy. Her eyes soften, and she looks at you in a way a caring mother might. Like she feels sorry for you, pities you.

“I know this must be hard for you. Having such a thing taken away from you. Knowing you may never get it back. Maybe you’ve been having feelings of… submission… of humiliation… those are all normal things.” Her expression then shifted, this time to one of more stern reassurance. The kind of headstrong, shoulders back look people get when they’ve decided on a necessary course of action. “And intended. I wanted you to feel this way to get back at you for the humiliation you made me face. You didn’t show me any mercy, why should I show you any?”

You try to come up with a million reasons, a million things to say but most escape you. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean it… please… I just can’t live like this…”

“You’ll have to.” She says matter-of-factly. “Just like so many women have to deal with it. Besides, what’s the point? You said you didn’t like dick, isn’t this an improvement?” Her voice shifting to one of mocking enthusiasm. “Like it or not, you’re going to have to learn to deal with what your newfound femininity, as well as the womb which is blossoming inside you.”

A renewed sense of cold realization and horror watch over you at her last words, and you feel your stomach lurch as you remember how badly it had felt the night prior. Tears well in your eyes now, and you start crying right in front of the girl.

To your surprise, she takes you into her arms and embraces you in a hug. “There, there. It’s okay honey. You’ll survive. Just go home and try to get comfortable, okay? It’ll do you much better to stop worrying about things you can do nothing about.”

Meekly, you are ushered out of the club, dazed and out of it, as you begin a solemn trip back home for the night.