My name is Frank. Or at least it used to be. I don't know what you'd call me now, though "freak" might come to mind. The Sorceress likes to call me "Legsy McBreast-Breast." At least I think that's what she calls me; it's kind of hard to hear clearly without any ears. Anyway, that should give you a little taste of her twisted sense of humor. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

I met the Sorceress several weeks ago at a costume party. Of course, I didn't know she was a sorceress at the time, even though she came to the party wearing, yes, a sorceress costume. I remember being impressed by how realistic her outfit looked. I noticed "Vanessa" (that's what she called herself at the time) the moment she swept into the room. She was easily the most stunning woman at the party, and I felt myself stirring beneath the plastic armor of my gladiator costume. I was especially impressed by her shapely figure...particularly her perfect breasts, waist, hips and legs, which her revealing costume showed off to maximum effect. Okay, I confess: I've always been a breast man. And a leg man. In fact, I believe I actually said as much to "Vanessa" when I introduced myself. It was sort of my come-on line, and to my complete amazement, it worked. Big mistake.

For the next two hours, we talked and drank wine and laughed and completely monopolized each other. She was utterly enchanting, though the big enchantments were yet to come. I couldn't take my eyes off her all evening. From the corner of my eye, however, I did manage to catch an occasional glimpse of other men watching us jealously, envying my good fortune in hitting it off with such a bodacious babe. To those guys I say: "Thank your lucky stars!"

The party wound down and "Vanessa" and I wound up. In my apartment. Together, naked, in bed. She was even more gorgeous unclothed (which was not always the case with the women I used to meet). We were kissing and caressing each other in the flickering candlelight when she whispered something unusual into my ear. "Remember what you said to me about your fixation on women's legs and breasts?" she asked. Fixation? That was an odd choice of words, but I grunted in assent. "Well, I have a little confession to make," she continued. "I feel exactly the same way."

I suddenly noticed an odd glow coming from under the bed sheets and felt my body tingling ever so slightly. I unclasped myself from "Vanessa's" embrace and threw off the sheets. My body was sparkling all over, casting a glow onto "Vanessa's" face as she watched, smiling. "What's happening?" I gasped.

"Keep watching," she giggled.

In another moment, the sparkling subsided and where my own lean, masculine body had been a moment earlier, there was now a shapely, perfect female body identical to "Vanessa's" in every respect. From the neck down, we could have been twins. I was too overwhelmed to say anything. All I could manage was a strangled "Wha-wha...."

Then the room abruptly brightened and I realized I was no longer in my apartment. Instead, I was in some sort of surreal, nightmare bedroom, filled with bizarre furnishings. Lamps with frozen female faces whose eyes watched in unblinking horror. Chairs and dressers that seemed to have once been human but had been stretched and reconfigured in unimaginable ways to become mundane, inanimate objects. There was a full-length mirror in the corner, ornately framed by two wooden nymphs who stared out with frozen, pleading expressions.

I jumped off the bed and gaped at my reflection. Yes, it was the body of "Vanessa" from the neck down, but the head was my own. I turned to "Vanessa," who was bouncing on the bed, clapping her hands in a display of unrestrained glee. "What have you done to me?" I half demanded/half pleaded.

"Oh, I'm not finished yet, Franky-boy," she laughed. "Take another look in the mirror." I turned to the mirror again and watched as both my arms vanished in a flurry of sparkles. I choked back a scream as my midsection began to collapse like an accordion, bringing my new breasts closer to my curvaceous waist. At the same time, my head and shoulders were quickly fading out.

Within moments, the transformation was complete. Though I no longer had eyes with which to see, I was somehow able to view my new reflection in the mirror. From my toes to my wonderful legs to my perfectly rounded buttocks, hips and waist, I still looked exactly like "Vanessa." On top of it all were "Vanessa's" splendid breasts, attached incongruously where my tummy should have been. And above that...nothing. Nothing at all. No abdomen, no arms or shoulders, nor head. I was now truly a "legs and breasts man." Except I wasn't even the "man" part anymore.

The Sorceress beckoned to me and I felt myself drawn helplessly to her bed, where I was compelled to silently pleasure her for hour upon hour. I did not require much persuasion, for my new, drastically reshaped body was exquisitely responsive to every sensual touch, shuddering with pleasure and transmitting that pleasure, in turn, directly into the Sorceress' body.

Eventually, of course, the Sorceress grew bored with me, as with so many of her other pets. So now I, Legsy McBreast-Breast, am fated to quietly follow the Sorceress around her cottage, bearing a tray of drinking glasses atop my beautiful waist. For the Sorceress sometimes gets thirsty, and she often tells me that I produce the best fresh milk she ever tasted. Regular or chocolate: choose your breast.

- fin -

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