When you split up with a powerful witch, things can get messy. At least, that’s my experience with my ex. One month ago she discovered my messages with another woman, and the promises I’d made to “dump my bitch”. Yeah, bad call on my part.
No goodbye, no fight, nothing. I just wake up the next morning in a girls body, with a note on my nightstand. The note explained the curse very clearly. If I wanted to be a man again, I had to get fucked by a different guy every day for a month straight. If I missed a day, I could forget changing my body, and everyone would forget all about the old me. And the kicker, for every day I went on, my body would become more female.
I weighed my options. Right now I was tall and slender, flat chested with a short pixie haircut. My face was still noticeably feminine, but I could pass for a man if I really wanted. Still, if I wanted to be a man, I really needed my dick. It seemed I didn’t have any other options than to play her games.
With each passing day, true to her word, my ex’s curse made me more and more womanly. What I lost in height, I made up for in increased curves and appetite. By the end of the first week I could stomach getting fucked without getting hammered beforehand. In a few more days, I started to actually look forward to it. At around the two week mark I found a guy worth calling for a second night in a row. I knew fucking Craig the second time wouldn’t fulfill the curse, but he was so damn good. Plus, he knew we weren’t exclusive. He knew I was finding other guys to satisfy my needs.
It didn’t hurt that by this point, I had a body that let me find somebody to satisfy me every day without fail.All I need to do was flash little cleavage, or bare a little thigh, and I could tell if a guy was interested. From there, it was too easy, and it only got easier. By the last week, I realized if I picked the right outfit I could get subtle offers without doing any work at all.
30 days in, I knew I was almost there. One more guy. I strode through the grocery store, getting my shopping in for the week. Seeing a young stud checking out my ass while I reached for something on the bottom shelf sent a chill down my spine. I couldn’t wait for my next fuck. As I approached checkout, my purse fell out of my cart. Before I could react, the same young stud was at my side, purse in hand. “Miss, you dropped this.” I watched his arm as he handed me my purse back. I could barely take my eyes off his muscular forearm. I slowly shifted my gaze up to his ruggedly handsome face.
“Oh, you’re so sweet! Thank you” I ran a hand down his bicep.
“Hey, if you’re not doing anything later-“
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I have a boyfriend.”
I turned and left without another word, smiling ear to ear.
