Sam frowned. Several months had passed, and she was no closer to returning to her former male self.
In fact, things had gotten much worse: the witch, Sam later learned, had “forgotten” to mention that ANY orgasm at all would in fact count against her “score”, meaning that all those hundreds of masturbation sessions she’d indulged in effectively guaranteed that Sam’s new biological schema was now permanent.
Even worse, the witch had apparently encoded into Sam’s revised genetics something like the experience of a “second puberty” – her former cute & petite (yet still ultra-busty) figure slowly blossoming unwelcomely into a somewhat taller, impossibly womanly shape with a bust size three times bigger than she’d started off with. It just wasn’t fair! Her boobs had already been almost as big as her head – or as big as a pair of cantaloupes – when she’d first transformed; now, they jutted out from her chest like a bloated shelf – two colossal watermelons, each fat wobbling globe measuring more than double the width of her skull – which, of course, was murder on her back…
After about a week and a half, Sam had finally been forced to leave the house to buy food, and she’d immediately discovered that the moment any male hit on her she found herself completely incapable of resisting his advances. Her life quickly became consumed with near-constant sexual activity, to the point where she’d been forced to drop out of school and do whatever she could to try and monetize her new, all-encompassing “hobby”.
But – on the bright side – Sam was now quite popular indeed…