---

Update to Chapter 01: I chose to edit the part about being a polyglot to being bilingual and changed the cover image since the other was not a good fit. All else is the same.

---

Once she returned to her cursed lamp Hunter took another look in the mirror. It was disturbing to see the girl he’d always imagined as the ideal of beauty looking back at him. That unease was because he knew it was his reflection and not someone else’s. Thankfully, Michael wouldn’t be back for another four days while he tried to sort this out. Although, it may have been better if Michael was here since he’d know his bro suddenly became a petite woman. Either way, there was nothing he could do about that now.

Hunter took several calming breaths as his anxiety built, and just like that it was gone. This level of self-control was quite nice if nothing else. Without the anxiety Hunter noticed another phenomenon, his clothes were driving him nuts. The fibers scraped against his skin and it felt like it’d rub a rash on his shoulders if he didn’t get rid of them. “But I can wear them. That’s what she said.” Hunter assured himself. If they caused rashes and blisters then it’d ruin his “dream self” and so the demon wouldn’t allow it. That thought drove him to resist that part of the curse with all his might. “I can at least win this battle.” he said while looking to the lamp.

Now that was the weirdest part, instead of the lamp coming up to his chest it now reached above his collar bone. With a sigh, he ignored the now seemingly large room and decided to look at his ID. He was sure she was telling the truth, but how could he not check just in case. As he reached for his wallet, he realized it wasn’t in his pocket. That’s when he saw the purse draped across the chair at his desk. It was a black Louis Vuitton crossbody satchel, probably a Pochette Coussin, so at least it was high-end. “But why do I know that?” he mumbled angrily while opening the bag. Of course, his driver’s license was in there, along with some other products he didn’t want to think about. And of course, it was for Megan Hart, but that wasn't the only difference. Obviously the picture matched that face in the reflection and there was a big 'F' under sex. However, the DOB was different, instead of making him 32, he was now only 24. Strangely, even the license number had changed, but for some reason he knew it as well as he knew his real one. "Curious." he said to himself while setting the card on the table; no way was he going to start using that purse.

It was all too much for him to accept. He wasn't Megan and that girl in the reflection was not his own. ‘Perhaps this is just a nightmare, a very vivid and disturbing nightmare’ Hunter thought. Although the feminine bedsheets with lavender sheets and a purple and black comforter made him doubt it. If there was any hope, that seal emblazoned on the comforter, which matched his new tattoo shattered it. If the weird shape had shifted like dreams normally did, then he'd be certain, but it was a perfect match no matter how many times he blinked.

Still Hunter hoped it was a trick. The odds of a dream behaving realistically had to be greater than a wish-twisting demon being real. With that thought he turned off the lights and slipped under the sheets. Of course, he noticed his beige walls were now a very subdued shade of lilac, but with all the other shocks during the past thirty minutes, that thought barely registered. ‘I guess they’re more like a blush lavender.’ he thought.

Sleep was slow coming, for at least an hour he tossed and turned. He knew his mind was fatigued enough, but no matter how hard he tried, he just could not get comfortable in that scratchy shirt and the baggy pants. After an hour of battling the cotton fabric, which felt like it was strangling him to death he threw it on the floor. Sadly, that replaced discomfort with a self-conscious feeling. He felt naked without a shirt and could not find comfort even in a home alone with the sheets up to his neck. After another fifteen minutes of this pointless battle, he yelled at the lamp, “Really! You won’t even let me sleep in peace?”

To his horror it answered him, but it wasn’t the lamp, it was the demon’s voice in his mind. “Don’t worry sweetheart, your clothes are neatly folded in the cabinet if you want to get comfortable.” He could hear her laughing in his mind, which was more infuriating than when she laughed in his face. Her calling him sweetheart and laughing reaffirmed his determination to not lose this battle. Even if he couldn’t have his body back, she wouldn’t take his fashion away. Perhaps it would cause her to reverse it when she realized how much mental fortitude he had. If she knew she couldn’t break him then it would ruin her fun and she’d undo it to regain her power. Then she could ruin somebody else’s life and he could be good ole Hunter.

With that in mind, he picked up his shirt and draped it across his breasts. ‘No, across my chest, men don’t have breasts.’ Hunter reminded himself. To his chagrin, despite laying there in discomfort for the entire night he did not sleep a minute. Whenever he started to drift off, it would shift and the sheer discomfort would rouse him. After the fifth time he got up to check his closet. Or at least he tried to before the extra foot of sweatpants bunched up and nearly caused him to fall. With surprising grace he twisted doing a little pirouette to regain his balance. Realizing the hazard of wearing the overgrown pants he slid them off before pulling them right back up. She'd left his clothes intact except for his boxers, which were now a cute pair of purple boyshorts. 'Or they'd be cute if I wasn't the one wearing them.' he mentally groaned. Instead, he rolled the legs up before searching for his athletic shirts in the closet. Hunter hoped the nylon V-necks he owned would be less uncomfortable. It didn’t even surprise him to see that all of his old clothes were gone except for what he was wearing when he made the wish. Not wanting to wear the fitted v-necks or tank-tops he gave up on sleeping. Once he was more tired, then not even the uncomfortable clothes could keep him up.

With some dread he relented to the bodily urge that had been building for a while now. The need to relieve himself. It was a disturbing experience; he had never been that sexually active, but he had enough experience to not be unfamiliar with the female body. That is, until he was the one wiping down there, which was not okay. After that was taken care of, the next step was to brush his teeth and style his hair. Thankfully brushing his teeth was pretty much the same, the main difference being his reflection was towards the bottom of the mirror instead of the top, and his teeth were perfectly straight and white. As for styling his hair, that was another matter entirely. At first, he brushed it out, starting towards the ends and working his way to the roots. And then he realized this was exactly what she wanted so he stopped right there. Some of it was well groomed and the rest was bedridden and slightly tangled from all the tossing and turning. That bothered him, but the fact that it bothered him was even more bothersome so he left it alone.

Turning on his computer was another nail in the metaphorical coffin. He knew his password, despite it being different than his old password. He’d typed ‘ShySuccubus’ before he realized what his fingers had done. That witch, not only did she change his password and background, she’d given him the muscle memory to enter it and the knowledge of what he’d be seeing before the screen with her emblem appeared. Unlike his tattoo, the background was moving as the lines slowly shifted. The imperfect circle was never completed and the implied circle was never destroyed, but the lines kept moving. To be honest, he actually really liked the background and that didn’t even bother him. It was something he would have installed if he’d found it before she messed with him.

Not wanting to manage his investments or work on his half-finished projects, he decided to play a game of online chess. Upon logging in as the ‘VioletHeart’ he was treated to his first pleasant surprise since he’d bought the lamp. Instead of his normal rank of 1850, which was in the top 15%, he was sitting at a 2315, which put him in the top 2%. Not only that, but he had the Fide Master icon next to his username. Now that was cool, that had been his goal for years and just like that he’d accomplished it. Of course, it took the fun out of the journey, but now he could aim for becoming a Grandmaster.

Better than the rank or meaningless title, he had the skills to prove it. Normally a 2300 would destroy him 100-times in a row by capitalizing on inaccuracies he didn’t even realize he'd made, but now he played flawlessly. Even in the endgame where he normally struggled the correct moves were just so obvious to him. 'I guess it makes sense. Becoming a master was one of my dreams and a cute girl that could play me evenly was one aspect of his perfect girl. That realization filled him with excitement as he played more and more. At this level he still only won around half the games, but that meant he was competitive with some of the best players in the world.

That reminded Hunter of some of the other skills he’d allegedly gained. If he was now proficient at coding he could work on some of his more ambitious projects. Upon opening the folder he saw that instead of half-finished books and basic Python programs, he now had half-finished massive Python programs. To his delight he could quickly dissect what all of the code did and although there were some bugs he’d need to figure out, he knew enough to understand the documentation when he felt like fixing it.

However, it was the other skills that intrigued him. If he could play the violin then he could finally play an instrument. That also meant he finally had rhythm which is a skill he’d fundamentally lacked before. Before yesterday, he could either play the correct notes or play at the correct rhythm. Even when he practiced one song for weeks it would never come together. He ran out of the room, pulling at the shirt the entire time, to find his violin in the coat closet. This led him to ask two more questions, ‘why is there a step-stool in the closet and why did I know where it’d be? Although sudden knowledge is great, I wonder what other memories and habits she changed without me noticing. Things like new skills, new memories, and new knowledge are obvious since the demon allowed me to know that I didn’t used to know them. But doesn’t that mean she could make me forget memories and skills without my realization? She probably wouldn’t do that unless she thought it’d be enjoyable, but knowing her, she could…’ He ended that thought train immediately. ‘She said she knows my thoughts whenever she bothers to watch. As this is the first day she is surely watching and I do not need to give her anymore ideas on how to torment me.’

“Come on, I want to know.” she whispered in Hunter’s mind.

“You wish, I think you’ve done enough already.” he said to nobody in the coat closet, but he knew she’d hear.

“For now.”

‘I hate her, you hear that, I hate you.’ he thought with all the force of a shout, but she didn’t reply. With that, he dragged the step-stool from the back corner to in-front of the shelf. Even on the stool and stretching on his tip-toes he could barely reach the shelf that had the violin case. ‘I need to put this somewhere else, that is too much work to reach up there.’

“What’s the matter sweetheart, you don’t want to be 4ft 11in anymore?”

‘I know that’s not true. The girl of my dreams was 4ft 11.5in, which rounds up to 5ft.’

Laughing reverberated in Hunter’s mind. “Did you really just say that?”

“I thought it.” Hunter said aloud this time.

“Seriously, after all the times you made fun of short people you are going to do it too? How did it go, ‘only short people count half inches’.” she said, the last part in Hunter’s male voice.

“Well, I’m short now. And besides, I’m just doing simple rounding. I know this all to be true since I imagined teasing this girl about it.” he said gesturing to himself.

“You’re adorable, but it’s not simple rounding. You know I love messing with you right? Well I actually made you 150.5cm, which is just a smidge over 59.25 inches.”

“Which means I can round up to 4ft 11.5in, but if I round to the nearest inch then it has to go to 4ft 11in.” Hunter said, “you really are a sadist if you’re willing to go that far.”

“More like I'm willing to not go far enough.” she cackled.

Ignoring the banshee-like laughing, Hunter struggled with a new thought that truly bothered him. Not being 5ft pained him greatly, more than it should have with the much bigger problems. However, that meant he was visually identical to his dream girl, but just different enough to bother him on a nonsensical level. Even worse is it made him want to wear wedges with a 2-3 inch lift so he could at least stand over 5ft. That would be fine if it wasn’t what his dream girl normally wore. In a weird way, by shorting him a ¼ inch in height she was making him want to do exactly what she wanted him to do. Before resigning himself to that inevitable fate, Hunter tried doing arithmetic to round his way up to 5ft nothing. ‘By rounding to 151cm I’d be left with a height of 59.45 inches, which still wouldn’t round to 5ft.’

“You see the wisdom of me shorting you that little bit of height? By taking away your ability to play math games with yourself, you’ll want to do what I want you to do. In a way, you are like my queen on the chessboard.”

‘That analogy is also bothersome. Not only did it mean she’d planned this before even granting my wish, she was moving me like a piece on the gameboard... for some unknown reason, and worst of all she called me her queen. Was that a gender joke or am I a valuable piece in her unknown game? Hopefully it’s the later since that means she won’t just sacrifice me for a little reason, but I suspect it’s the former.’

“I do not sacrifice any of my pieces, my game is on a dimension you couldn’t conceive of. It was just to remind you that you are my precious little girl. And I mean little as you aren’t even 5ft.”

Hunter realized talking with her was just an annoyance. She was deliberately unhelpful and seemed to be finding ways to manipulate him. With a forced effort he turned his attention back to the violin and began to play. Instead of horrible shrieks he played Moonlight Sonata with ease. It made him wonder how large his musical repertoire was and how easily he could learn new music, but that was enough for now. ‘Should I put this back on the shelf to show her I can handle it or put it in my room so it’s easier to get?’ he wondered. His question was only met with more laughing. 'I'm only putting it in here since I plan to test the limits of this new ability soon.' he reassured himself during the walk of shame.

"Sure you are."

Thankfully she didn’t make any jokes as he made what felt like the walk of shame. Not wanting to do any complex math, that only left Hunter with two new skills to test out. As she claimed he was bilingual, he imagined he could speak Spanish, but quickly realized he still knew almost none.

“Hey demon, what language do I speak?”

“I have a name, and it’s the cutest one.”

“Well, you never told me it. And what do you mean by cutest?"

“I am Sheshkuna. I gave you Japanese so you can be the little Otaku you always wanted to be.”

"Quit calling me little Tuna demon."

“I’m surprised you have the confidence to speak to me that way.” Sheshkuna said.

Hunter felt a shiver run down his spine as he swore the lava orbs had vertical slits for eyes in that moment. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. You’re just… you’re like a…” looking down again he never managed to finish the thought.

“That’s better. Remember who you are or I will improve your shyness to the point of complete social anxiety.”

Hunter only nodded. Thoughts raced around in his head though. ‘Can she really do that, what about the energy drain? Is it easier for her to exacerbate negative characteristics than remove them? No, the net change would be the same rather it is positive or negative. Does that mean she’s lying about why she won’t change me back? That seems likely. Wait why can I think so freely even though she will hear all of this, but I struggle to say it? She doesn’t get mad when I think poorly of her, but she snapped when I said something out loud. Is that because racing thoughts are “appropriate behavior”, but speaking confrontationally is not?’ and on and on the thoughts circled ever deeper, ‘will I have this problem with other people? Can I stand up for myself when other people try to coerce me? Will the result be different if it’s friend’s instead of strangers?’

After an unknown amount of time Hunter snapped out of his trance. Thankfully, one of those thoughts connected him back to his curiosity about his tennis ability. He was always good, even got a D3 scholarship for it, but he turned it down for an academic scholarship to a research university. He wondered if he’d still graduated from there and if his major had changed, but for now tennis was his priority. Being so short and weak, he doubted he’d be competitive, but Sheshkuna had assured him he would be.

This excitement died immediately when he realized he had nothing to wear. Tennis dresses and tennis skirts mainly, but nothing he actually wanted to wear. The clothes he’d been wearing were not good for the court, which left him with two options. ‘Should I just wear this crap or should I go buy something?’ The obvious thought was to buy something, but he knew the demon would make it uncomfortable to wear. Anything he would want is not something she would wear; she being his dream girl. ‘Perhaps if I buy something from the women’s section even if it is out of this girl’s fashion sense, I would be comfortable.’ Hunter had his doubts, but it was worth a little money to test the idea.

With the hope of mild discomfort and the excitement of playing tennis, he grabbed his keys, the plainest pair of shoes, and ran to the truck. Immediately the problem became obvious; the decision to not add a step when he lifted his truck was coming back to haunt him. Why would he need a sissy step when he could just hop in? 'But now, now the bottom of the door comes up to my breasts, hmpf, I mean my chest.' Hunter's first idea was to pull himself up; he placed his arms on the floor by the seat and tried extending. He thought he would effectively do a reverse dip, but his arms were so shaky he gave up. Instead, he turned away from the door and jumped so his butt landed in the floorboard, then he was able to pull himself in. Face flush with embarrassment he put the keys in the ignition before realizing his second problem. Even with the seat all the way up he could barely see over the dash, which wouldn't have been a problem if the truck wasn't lifted. Since it was, he could tell he wouldn't be able to see cars within 10ft of his bumper.

'This is not safe; of all the things you changed, why didn't you at least give me a vehicle I could drive?' Sheshkuna didn't answer him, but Hunter knew she was having a field day. He remembered short girls using pillows and whatnot to help them with this problem so that's what he'd have to do. The way down was also surreal, instead of stretching a leg to the ground he had to hop out. With a quick jog to his room, Hunter grabbed three pillows, two for the seat and one for the backrest, and then ran back. He hoped it would be enough, but honestly, he wasn't sure with the ridiculously sized vehicle. 'Did I just hate on my precious baby?' Hunter questioned while rubbing the panel tenderly. Tossing the pillows in the seat he repeated the embarrassing climb again.

After adjusting the pillows into a pseudo-booster seat, yet another problem arose. Before the demon had his way with him, he thought all mudding trucks should be manual. He still thought that, but not being able to fully depress the clutch was another problem he didn't know how to solve. 'It's not like I'm going to tie a block of wood to it so I can reach.'

"But you could tie a block of wood to your feet, it'd be like a wedge to help you reach." Sheshkuna chimed in sensing blood.

'I am not going to wear what you tell me to.'

"Then don't drive."

Hunter felt trapped. As much as he wanted to argue with her, it was pointless. He was left with three horrible choices: he could either wear those bloody shoes, not see what's in front of him, or be forced to get a rideshare. "Why did I have to get my truck lifted?" Hunter whined as he jumped down yet again. Instead of running, this time he walked with his head down feeling like he'd just lost the battle. As much as he didn't want to wear the girlie shoes, the other two options were worse. His shoe rack, which had gone from a bunch of shoes, boots, and sandals he liked had been replaced with some dystopian arrangement of heels, wedges, spiked boots, sandals with flowers, and a few pairs of less than manly shoes. The pair he was wearing, plain white with neon green embroidery was the least offensive pair and he made sure to keep them on. As for his new driving shoes, he settled on a pair he'd imagined his dream girl wearing more than once, an idea that made his stomach turn. They were cute 3in wooden wedges with black cloth that tied into a bow around the lower shin.

With his latest offender of his ever declining pride he worked his way back into the truck and swapped his shoes for his driving shoes. "They're driving shoes, not wedges." he said to comfort himself and silence the smug feeling he was getting from Sheshkuna. Between the boost from the pillows and the driving shoes, he was able to drive safely, if just barely. Or at least he thought he could until two different people honked at him when he nearly ran them over. It was a miserable drive, not only was it difficult, but the seatbelt was unfamiliar, and the shirt was more obnoxious than ever. The pressure from the seatbelt turned what normally felt like scratching into outright clawing at his chest and shoulders. It was too long, which made it bunch up in all the wrong places and the sweatpants were so loose it felt like Hunter was setting in a knotted blanket. Thankfully, he did make it without crashing, but after utterly failing to back into a spot, Hunter wondered if, ‘Perhaps I should trade this in for a vehicle I can actually drive.’

“Perhaps a cute little convertible would suit you better. I know where you can get one in sky blue.”

“I was hoping…” Hunter meant to say I was hoping you couldn't talk to me this far from the lamp, but his voice caught. With a disgustingly feminine throat clearing, he managed to say “…I could call you Shesha.”

“Shesha, I like that nickname. Feel free to call me that sweetheart.”

‘And I hate that pet name.’ Hunter thought.

With another dangerous hop out of the truck, he checked his pockets. ‘Phone, keys, need my wallet.’ without thinking he got back in to check the console, the cupholders, and around the seat. It was when he heard Shesha’s laughing that he realized his mistake; ‘I forgot the stupid purse.’

“I thought about telling you sooner, but it seemed like this was the best way to make sure you remember it.”

‘Whatever.’ Hunter thought as he found his emergency stash of cash in the glovebox.

“Boo! That’s no fun.”

‘Neither is this.’ he thought as he saw the insurance card and vehicle registration. It wasn’t a surprise, but the two additional reminders that he was “Megan” made him see red. It actually made him so mad his vision went blurry. “What the heck!” he screamed when he realized his vision wasn't blurring with anger, but with tears. Thankfully he wasn't sobbing, but he couldn't stop the tears for several minutes.

“It’s okay Megan, don’t let it bother you. It’s better this way than you driving a vehicle registered to someone else.”

Somehow, being called by his new name was even worse than being called sweetheart. Perhaps she was trying to be comforting, but he doubted it. Instead, he figured she’d been waiting for the opportune moment to call him by the name she’d given him. ‘Actually, it was the name I gave myself since I did usually imagine my dream girl would be named Megan. That was one of my girlfriends before college and she was perfect; perhaps that’s why?’

“At least I gave you an amazing mental resilience, you’ve already calmed down and analyzed the situation.”

‘I always had it; you just didn’t take it away.’ he thought bitterly.

“Tomatoes Toe-mah-toes.”

Instead of arguing with Shesha, he made his way into the store. Upon entering the sliding doors, several things struck him at once. First, he realized that he looked terrible, not only was his hair a mess and his clothes fit like a tent; he’d just been crying so his eyes were puffy. For that matter, he wasn’t wearing makeup, not that he needed it, but he didn’t even have lip-gloss for comfort. Second, he realized that he was concerned about his appearance and thought lip-gloss would somehow give him strength. Third, and this was the big one, there were a lot of people here and it felt like half of them were staring at him. Fourth, he realized he was bothered by what really wasn’t that many people and cared what they thought and how they were judging him, this wasn’t like him, he’d outgrown that character flaw after highschool.

“Hi, welcome to Institute Sports and Outdoors.”

“Hi.” Hunter said so quietly it was inaudible over the background noise. He kept his head down and walked for women’s section. Despite knowing what he looked like, Hunter couldn’t help but feel like he was a voyeur going to the section he didn’t belong. ‘Shesha what’s my size? I don’t know my new proportions.’

“You should have looked at the tags of the clothes I so graciously gave you. You’ll just have to ask them to size you if you’re unsure.”

‘I can try them on right?’

“Sweetheart, you’ve been commando since you threw the boyshorts off. You certainly may not try on the clothes.”

‘Good point, guess I’ll just get a small.’

Shesha stayed quiet, he expected her to make a joke at his expense about being small or something. The fact that she didn’t raised his suspicions, ‘or probably an extra-small.’

That was met with uncontrolled laughing, “Yes, you’re as little as they come without being considered children.”

The selection was abysmal, they were all so short. They were little better than what he already had, which really meant they were just a waste of money. Instead of giving up and wearing the clothes the demon had for him, Hunter decided to try and find some in mens. At least they would be long enough for him to feel comfortable. With some uncertainty Hunter strolled across the mens section before a devastating realization hit. ‘They don’t come in extra-small.’

“Nope, and even if they did, they’d still be too big for you.”

With a sigh, Hunter found one of the sales associates. “Good afternoon mam, what can I do for you?” She asked with a judging look at Hunter’s horrible ensemble. Beyond the look, that “mam” nonsense was a blow to his ego that nearly broke him. Of course, crying in front of the associate would be the finishing blow to what little remained of his male pride.

“Uhm, I was hoping you could help me find the right size for my nephew. I want to get him basketball shorts, but I’m not sure how they’re sizing works.” Hunter said as fast as possible. He just wanted to get out of here and dealing with her was not helping.

“Can you repeat that, I didn’t understand you?”

“I need basketball shorts for my nephew, he’s about my size. What is that in boys?”

‘Why is she staring at me? I swear she’s judging me.’

“You’re adorable sweetheart; you just said he's your size so she is sizing you up."

‘No, she’s definitely judging me, just look at the way she keeps staring.’

“Well, you are dressed terribly.”

“You’re an extra-small right? I imagine he’ll need a large if he’s close to your size.”

“Thank you.” Hunter mumbled before walking away. Not once did he look her in the eye. ‘I thought you said it was just shyness, this is definitely social anxiety.’

“That’s your fault for not dressing for success. I promise, if you stop this stupid struggle, you will feel much more confident. You will still be shy, but it won’t be even half this bad.” Shesha said.

Hunter doubted her, so was relieved when he found a solid black pair of shorts. Hunter grabbed them and the matching shirt. It was a soft nylon which hopefully would be more tolerable. At the cash register his horror began again.

“Did you find everything you were looking for mam?”

“Yes.”

“Excellent, could we interest you in our loyalty rewards program.”

“No.”

“Of course, how about the store credit card, you’ll receive a $250 gift card which can be applied to this purchase if you are approved.”

“No.”

“Alright, then your total is $42.89 after-tax, how will you be paying?”

Hunter sat the $50 bill on the counter, which seemed like it was too tall.

Hunter could only nod once the cashier got his change and wished him a nice day. With that complete, he grabbed the clothes and speed-walked for the door with all the haste his little legs could muster. After making it to the parking lot, he was able to take his first full breath since he’d walked into that dungeon store. “That was really pathetic, it brought me so much joy. You should go shopping dressed like that again.” Sheshkuna teased.

‘That’s not funny.” Hunter thought bitterly.

“Should I tell you something that is?” Shesha taunted. Upon feeling Hunter roll his eyes, she went on, “They forgot to take the security tag off the shorts.”

That was certainly not funny. Hunter grabbed the shorts out of the bag and sadly, it was true. He considered going back, but the thought was less appealing than taking an ice bath. ‘Fine, I’ll wear your stupid clothes this time, but only because they screwed up.’

“Sure, sure. I’m positive you’ll never wear them after that.” Shesha said with her familiar sarcasm.

The drive home was as miserable as the drive there. Again, the truck proved to be a true challenge to drive and given his newfound modesty, he couldn’t change into the shirt he hoped would be more comfortable. One good thing came from the drive, Hunter realized they had bolt cutters in the tool shed, which would be more than enough to cut the security tag off the shorts.

Instead of going commando, Hunter conceded one more thing to the demon. Sliding on the plainest pair of black panties and a white sports bra. If he was going to play tennis he did not need those bouncing around or the poorly fitted shorts chafing his more sensitive areas. Shesha couldn’t help but tease him for not wearing the right clothes as he slid the shirt and shorts over it. Once her ridicule was done, she warned, “You do realize you are planning to go to a racquet club with strangers dressed like that. It might not be as bad as the store, but I know it will still be so bad that you won’t even manage to make it onto the court. If you’d just dress the way you know you’re supposed to, it’ll be fine. You’ll still have some butterflies in your tummy, but it’ll be tolerable.”

Hunter gave an exasperated sigh, the feminine sound still seeming wrong, and said, “I know you’re probably right, but I just can’t.”

“I’m definitely right, since I made you how you are, I know how you’ll react. As much as I’d love to see a repeat of the store, I would rather see you become your dream self.”

“But this isn’t my dream self, and if I accept it, you’ll never change me back.”

“All you have to do is wish for it to all be a dream. It should be simple enough for now.”

“For now?” Hunter asked. For now, means it wouldn’t always be the case. Was there a time-limit or would that offer be revoked after he played the role?

“Yep, so is that your wish?”

“Yes.”

“I need you to say it.” Shesha prodded.

“I wish this was all…” Again, he couldn’t finish it, so he tried thinking, '...this was all a dream.'

"Sorry sweetheart, you have to say it so I know you really want it."

‘Keep it up and I’ll break your lamp.’ he thought, knowing he either couldn’t or shouldn’t say it out loud.

The world went negative like the last time she appeared. Standing before him, she said in a darker tone than he'd ever heard from her, “Did you just threaten me? You know it wouldn't kill me, just make me real angry.”

‘I was just venting, pretty sure you’d either curse me or at least leave me stuck this way.’

“Or both, I built an entire dimension in here and that takes a lot of work. If you destroy my home, I will destroy you.”

“But you said you don’t sacrifice your pieces.”

“If a mosquito bites you, what do you do? Don’t worry though, I wouldn’t kill crush you like you would the mosquito. I will just curse you in more ways than you’d care to imagine. I’ve blessed you, but your ‘male pride’ won’t let you see that. So I'll repeat myself you stupid little girl, if you wreck my world, then I’ll wreck yours.”