This is the story of a young man who made a careless mistake. Out with friends and getting smashed, he caught sight of a young lady who was gifted with an unusually large bust. She also appeared to have the face of a child's doll. The mistake was saying to her, "What a doll." She was incredibly sensitive about her looks and immediately took offense to his words. Making it worse, she was also practicing dark magic, and some choice words would permanently change his life for good.
The offended lass said, "Maybe you would like being called 'a doll'." She then muttered some unintelligible language the lout couldn't figure out but, being buzzed, he couldn't figure out left from right. All he did was stare at her masses. This prompted the angry woman to hold his head up straight and give him a left hook to his face. He was lost in a daze and bleeding from the side of his face, but by the time he was helped to his feet by his drinking buddies, the dark magician was long gone. In his alcohol-induced fog, he wouldn't remember any of this. It wouldn't matter.
A horrible pain in his stomach region would wake up the poor lad the next morning. Together with his hangover, it was too much to handle. He fell out of his bed to the floor, one arm clutching his head while the other was around his stomach. Skin bubbled as bones and cartilage underneath shifted around. Turning to his side, he lifted up his shirt, the very shirt he was wearing the night before, and saw his flabby stomach slowly caving in on itself. Sudden pains from his hips. They were creaking outward to childbearing proportions, officially giving him an hourglass figure. His back spasms were followed by it cracking inward, making his slowly growing derriere protrude even further. The hair on his head had reached his shoulders by the time two small mounds had formed on his chest. When those mounds grew into mountains, his lengthening hair had reached his chest. He mustered the power to stand, only to stumble backwards into a wall. His Rapunzel-esque locks had turned a lighter shade of blonde as they finally stopped growing, reaching his waist. He grabbed his face as it painfully reshaped itself, all the while, his "machinery" below shrank and receded inside of him, reforming into ovaries. It was now official; He was now a she.
The pain that wracked her body was gone. Even the hangover had mysteriously went away. She made her way toward her bathroom, stumbling all the way. It took both her hands and all the energy she had to keep from falling on her face. However, as she took one slow step at a time, visions ran through her mind. She saw herself strutting her stuff, buying and wearing all sorts of expensive or provocative clothes, mesmerizing strangers with lewd but sexy dancing, and long-lasting sex. She tried blocking them out, but she couldn't help herself.
This couldn't be her. She didn't behave like this, nor did she want to. A second, more malevolent personality was trying to take over. The male she once was was now losing the fight. She reached the mirror, one hand still clutching her head as the last vestiges of her life as a male evaporated. With stars in her eyes, the changed girl looked at her reflection and was instantly fascinated with her appearance. She was busty, had curves like a racetrack, and a flawless face. A smile formed on her face. It was a smile that hid very selfish intentions.
Here she is, on the prowl, so to speak. Whenever she's strutting, showing off her mesmerizing legs, time just stands still for any man who stares. Strangely, nobody seems to remember the man that she used to be. It could be an unintentional side effect of the dark magic. In any case, this was the result of not choosing his words carefully, despite being under the influence. She might not take kindly to being called "a doll" either.
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