Sethryan couldn't give up the fight now. With the witch's magic having already taken hold, he could bare to return to the village as he was. An ass as fine and shapely as his own would inspire unending ridicule from Krogar and perhaps some lustful stares from the more sexually liberal members of his village. He had to fix this, and as far as he could guess, slaying the Witch was his only option.
"So, sonny, how does it feel to have the curviest backside this side of the southern wilds?" she teased, cackling all the while.
Sethryan readied his sword.
"Time to die, you foul beast!" he shouted.
A war cry erupted from his throat as he lunged forward towards the old hag, rushing with all of his strength. Unfortunately for the lad, his body was not accustomed to the pounds of thick flesh that had been added to his rump. He quickly lost his balanced and tumbled to the floor, colliding in a flash of pain.
A howl of laughter came from the Witch, harder than before.
"You're not as swift as you used to be. Not with these," she said, unleashing a painful slap that trailed across his rump. A loud crack echoed through the room as the fat of his behind began to jiggle vibrantly.
"Now, since you seem so intent on killing me, I guess you leave me with little choice. As wimpy of a fighter as you may have been, its only fair I leave your fighting skill permanently neutered.
A second ball of light escaped from the tip of her wand. It was identical to the first, though somewhat larger in size. It traveleed at a faster pace as well, rapidly circling his prone form. Paralyzed in fear, he didn't even mount an escape as the ball collided into his upper body.
The tingly sensation overtook his entire upper body, burning from head to belly button. Like with his behind, the change happened in an millisecond. Pounds of fat coalesced in his chest as large, plump breasts came to fruition. Waves of hair forced themselves from his scalp as his locks became more delicate. Facial features melted down, softening into more feminine forms.
"Oh gosh," Sethryan mumbled, running his hands over his newly formed chest. "I-I'm a woman!"
"And a rather curvy one at that!"
"Turn me back, you must! I can't go back like this. They'll laugh at me, or worse..."
"Is this some kind of joke?" the Witch asked. "You threaten to kill me and then beg for mercy? I should have you serve as my slave, or worse! Alas, though, I feel some bit of mercy. If you want your old body back, listen to me. Return from whence you came, and bring me my tribute!"
Sethryan was immediately whisked away in a magical wind, transported back to his home village. He was just outside the gate, reclining in a pool of mud.
He needed to find tribute and fast. For that, he would need some assistance. He decided to seek out...
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