"Never Cross Our Mistress"

            You awakened in a daze, having no idea where you were or how you got there. All you remember was seeing a strange gas come from nowhere and how it smelled like perfume. In your blurry vision, you find three leggy, well-sculpted young ladies, who all appear to be eyeing daggers at you. Ironically, you had never seen them before in your entire life.

            M: "You need not struggle. We are indeed strangers to you. We will acknowledge that much."

            You felt sick but not enough to throw up. All you could do was look at your attractive captors.

            M: "You may or may not remember bad-mouthing our mistress. Your experience with her left her offended, upset, insulted, like her honor had been stomped on. She described you to the letter. That is why you're here."

            Your stomach is in knots, as if something was moving around inside it. Suddenly, you could see hair slowly growing down your head, blocking your vision.

            M: "Mistress finds men to be a distraction, in life and in general."

            Your feel your fat from around your stomach shifts to your thighs and derriere.

            L: "That is why she has only women in her employ. Our mistress says that women are not disgusting and disorderly like the men of the world."

            You slowly start growing breasts.

            *Slurrrrrrp* *Slurrrrrrp* *Slurrrrrrp*

            With each long slurping sound, they grow bigger and appear more natural. They stopped growing when they reached what looked like DD-cup size. With your blurred vision, you couldn't see the hair on your nearly nude body receding into your skin. What fat remained around your stomach melted from your body, leaving an hourglass-shaped waist. Crunching was heard as your hips widened slowly to childbearing proportions. You now appeared to be a woman from the waist up. That would quickly change. 

            R: "You will learn not to cross our mistress."

            As she finished, your manhood slowly shriveled into nothing. The transformation appeared to be over. Your vision finally cleared, and looking down, you could see thick, hairless thighs and pedicured feet. Your breasts looked humongous from your viewpoint, and you felt nothing in between your legs. You were genetically female, and the women before you, looked at you with demented glee. 

            All (in unison): "Welcome, sister."