Because They’re Girls

Saturday evening had decayed into Sunday morning, the full moon still slouching in the far corner of the starry sky, when three men shambled from The Bar. The Bar was the bar to be for men and women on the prowl; the flashing neon signs and minimally sticky floors made it the perfect Serengeti for sexual predation. Three coital tigers, lions adorned with manes of popped colors, gelled hair, and fashionably pre-ripped ripped jeans, turned into a dark, deserted alley, lumbering their way home.

“I told you I could get her number,” Chadley roared. He was tall and broad-shouldered, a former football player, his biceps barely sheathed beneath his rolled-back sleeves. His teeth flashed white against the shadows and his voice flowed gently, like the breeze along his father’s yacht.

Chestan rolled his eyes. “Whatever. That was nothing. This Stella girl is a straight 9 out of 10, 9.25 even.” He cocked a smirk, the Dreamworks special. “I feel like Matthew McConaughey; I’m getting inta-Stella.”

Silence.

No one laughed. His friends rarely did. Chestan brushed it off with a snort and a quiet chuckle. Somewhat reedy and ill-equipped for sports or living, Chestan considered himself a film a auteur, a true connoisseur of celluloid and an artist just waiting for a strike of inspiration or talent. His shirt, a dark mauve, captured the deepest depths of his soul, cavernous and deep.

Chreginaldo, his voice a deep, husky, and some kind of exotic, warbling between Hispanic and Mediterranean, or something, rumbled, “Read them and weep, boys, of which we are,” as he waved three crumbled pieces of paper, each blotted with runny ink. The splotches came together to form three different phone numbers, three different girls, three nights to look forward to. Chreginaldo was short, shorter than his friends, but far more muscular. He had long, jet black hair, pouty eyes, and an impeccably trimmed moustache. His skin was brown, ambiguously so, and he carried a saucy sort of swagger everywhere he went, sober or plastered.

The men, who were most assuredly examples of the male sex, continued their manly comradery as they made their way through the alley. Chicks were discussed broadly, and none chickened out from discussing broads. Suddenly, however, a figure slinked from the shadows, blocking their path.

“Well, well, well,” a southern-tinted voice cooed. “Look what the cat dragged out.”

The men stopped. Before them was a shapely, curvaceous figure, a tight black dress draped around her ample breasts and righteous ass. Red hair flowed from the top of her head down to her shoulders, crossing her red lipstick and jade green eyes. Silently, through an exhance of nods, all three agreed that she was rather banging.

Chreginaldo adjusted his eyebrows into a half-seductive, half-stupored glance. “Well, hello, madam senorita. Are you, perhaps, lost on this dark and lonely night?”

The woman chortled a soft, bittle chortle. “No, but you are!” She waited, but there was no response, not even one gasp. Chadley scratched his head. “Lost, I mean,” she inserted quickly.

“Actually,” Chadley began, “This is the path we always take back to our apartments. It’s only a couple of blocks from here. If you like, you know, I could show you the way.”

The woman grimaced. “No, I know that, I’ve been following you for the past month!”

Silence.

“That’s hot!” Chestan blurted out.

“Let me try this again. You are lost, metaphorically speaking, wayward souls enslaved to the whims of your debaucherous male desires. I am here to deliver you punishment, and your salvation.”

Pink smoke began to rise from underneath their feet, choking the alley. The boys jumped back, startled.

“My name is Spellma, and I am a great, powerful witch. Week after week, I have watched you finagle your way from one proud woman’s pants to another’s, breaking hearts without remorse. It is time you miscreants learn the error of your ways.” Her voice grew deeper, her eyes glowed like pink lightning. “Ominae Glaminae, Convenius Devicius!”

At once, there was a blinding pink flash, pinker than the pinkest pink. The world grinded to a halt, stopping still. The boys stumbled, unsure of what to expect when suddenly, it hit. Hard.

They retched, clutching their guts as they crumbled to the ground. It felt as if their organs were being mangled in the whirring blades of a blender, working its way lower and lower. Their bones cracked, compressing in laces, stretching in others as they arched their backs. A jolt struck their crowns as their hair shot out and reformed, shrouding their panicked faces. Their chests and hips expanded, bursting out, as their sides reconstructed into all too familiar curves. Their penises shriveled until they were swallowed whole, 1, 2, 3, thrusting backwards into the lips of freshly soaked vaginal lips. They screamed, screaming louder and higher with each new change, until their voices twisted into something alien and feminine all at once. At last, the torn and stained fabric of their clothing took liquid form, pooling around their shaking, huddled frames and taking new shape.

Chadley’s shirt became a bright white dress, his now-frail arms left bare, and slithered all the way down to his now high-heeled feet. He could feel a bar strap itself against his breasts, DD’s, and a pair of elegant silk panties hug his dickless groin. He could taste lipstick on his mouth, and his diamond earrings jangled as he shuttered. Chestan’s jeans morphed into a tight red miniskirt, his shirt into a black tank top, his shoes into stilettos. His hair had been pulled back into a high ponytail, and his nails were all a glossy red. His freshly matched thong and bra (DD) combo tugged against his crotch. Chreginaldo’s pre-ripped ripped denim warped into black leggings, his shirt and moustache into a neon pink belly shirt and a loose leather jacket, yellow, slung on top. His hair was short, stopping just below the ears, and his breasts were big, at least DD’s.

After an eternity of minutes, the transformation was complete.

Spellma watched with glee as her marks writhed against the concrete. “Excellent, excellent, my little ladykillers!” She chirped. “But what shall I call you?” She stroked her finger against her chin as a smile wormed its way across her face.

She pointed to Chadley. “Brash, strong Chadley in your old life, you will now be the elegant, demure…” she paused, basking in the palpable tension. “Chadlina!” She zipped to Chestan. “And you! Reedy, pretentious Chestan shall become the stout, heedless Chestina!” Her finger bounced through the air until it found its target, the newly supple form of Chreginaldo. “And you, you Chreginaldo, you will be…” She paused. Several seconds passed as her teeth tugged against her lips. “How about, I dunno, Maria?”

Chadlina, Chestina, and Maria rose to their feet, their long, luscious legs wobbling underneath them. They frantically scoured their alien bodies. Chestina gasped as she scrambled for her penis, letting out a soft, desperate cry. Chadlina clasped at her bust and let out a faint “Oooh” as she brushed against her rock hard nipples. Chestina and Maria followed suit.

“Now, it is time for you to learn the burdens of womanhood firsthand, as your lives are… you will have to…” The witch trailed off, her droning obviously lost on the flood of sensual pleasure and barely muffled cries before her. “I’m glad you see the value of the female form, but you should consider-“ A pair of orgasmic screams came as Chestina and Maria’s fingers plumbed the depths of each other’s femininity, their arms entwined like pretzels. “Hey, hold on, now Gawker says that women get paid less than men in the workplace. Huh? How about that?” Chadlina let out a wild howl as Maria’s sleek tongue slid into her pulsating pussy, all pink and pussy-like. Spellma threw up her hands and tapped her foot, deciding to table the lecture for the present as she watched her prey descend into a mindless flurry of full-fuckery.

Finally, after 20 minutes of frozen time, the three recollected themselves, patting their clothes clean and turning to the with.

“For what purpose have you done this?” asked Maria.

“Well,” Spellma began, “You are philanderers, all of you. You use women for cheap sex and one nights stands, treating them as little more than game in your carnal hunt.”

Chadlina raised her dainty, debonair hand.. “What’s so wrong with that?”

“What do you mean, ‘What’s so wrong with that?’ You’re sleeping around!”

“Yeah,” Chestina piped in, “but it’s not like it’s not consensual or anything. The women we sleep with know the deal going in.”

“It’s just non-commital sex, it’s healthy.” Chadlina added.

The witch squinted. “Healthy?”

“Of course sex is!” Maria added. “Everyone in my home country knows that!”

“I don’t know, you seem very sex-negative. What’s so bad about men and women enjoying their sexuality?” Chestina continued.

“Well, it’s not that, you know, but the point is…”

Maria strutted forward. “And wait, what is this about punishment here? Are you saying, perhapsamundo, that to be a woman is a punishment?”

The other two nodded and murmured in agreement.

“I’ve got two sisters, not to mention my mom, and I think that’s real fucked up,” Chadlina added.

The witch growled. “No, no, just being a woman is not a punishment, obviously, but for you-“

“And another thing,” Chadlina continued, flicking her hair back, “What about the trans issue here?”

“It did not even cross my mind, my friend!”

“Me neither. I guess I should’ve been… trans-spotting?”

Silence.

“Trans issue? What?” Desperation creeped into the witch’s voice. “I don’t care about whatever this trans issue is!”

Chadlina shook her head, her friends followed suit. “Of course. Nobody does.”

“Okay, fine, what is this ‘trans issue’ here?”

“Well,” Chestina began, “You stuck us, three regular males, into the bodies of women and haven’t even seemed to consider the awful dysphoria it’s sure to cause.” She leaned in and whispered, “Chadlina was the president of our high school’s GSA, and seeing his friends suffer, he takes it very personally.”

The witch paused. “Oh, well… I mean, I was going to change your minds and memories, the world and all that a bit, too. I wasn’t done yet or anything, and I’d change you back, you know, eventually.”

Chestina blinked. “Wait, if you were going to change our minds, then what’s the point? How would we actually learn anything? You’d just be replacing us with different people. Why not just change us so we already knew the lesson?”

“And hey, you know, another thing,” Chadlina added, “You mean you can just change people’s bodies and lives and minds around, and instead of helping trans people or the disabled, you stalked us just for getting laid? Seems like a bad use of time to me.”

The witch shuffled her feet. “Now, I feel we’re going slightly off-topic here, the point is…”

“Or even still, maybe it could be an enterprise of sorts? Plastic surgery without surgery, no? Could be very profitable.”

“Profitable?” Chadlina interjected. “My father sells guns to Israel and this could beat his quarterly profits easy, no question.”

“Hell, I’m sure the government would pay top dollar for something like that.”

“It would take such a nincompoop, a total nincompoop to miss such an obvious opportunity and-“

“Stop! Stop! Stop!” Spellma choked out, her face scrunched red. “I get it, okay? I just wanted to instill a little karmic justice in the world, maybe make some friends, and I just feel so attacked and… I just…” Her words sputtered out into wails and sobs.

Her three targets turned to each other, passing along unsure glances. Finally, Maria stepped forward and gently laid her arm around the witch. “There, there, senorita lady.” The others followed suit, embracing their would-be tormentor with open, velvety arms, as women are wont to do. Their words were laced in soothing tones, and their pity draped around her like a blanket.

Spellma dragged her tiny writs across her eyes as she gazed upon the trio. “I’m so sorry. I guess I just didn’t think this through.”

“It’s okay,” Chestina cooed. “I mean, we’d all be lying if we didn’t say this was secretly our fetish or anything, right?”

Silence.

“Well, what should we do know?”

Chadlina smiled. “The only thing we can.”

The four stumbled back to Maria’s lush apartment, where they fucked with an intensity that surpassed the burning of the sun, using all assortments of fingers, tongues, toys, and magically summoned nega-dicks. The sex was so hot, everyone orgasmed and squirted pussy juice like gushers on a summer day. The girls all came like 11 times, too. It was really great.

Then they went shopping, tried on cute clothes, and fell in love with hot boys, because they’re girls, and that is what girls do.

The End