Sentenced to Life in Heels

The mall, the place on earth you hated most. All those people, all these shops. So much senseless spending on frivolities, unjustifiably pricey jewelry, extra pairs of shoes people didn’t really need, and clothes, so many clothes. Did people really need four boutiques in a single mall which specialized in selling women’s underwear? Could they really be that different from one another? You avoided going there as much as you could, unfortunately, the closest branch for you bank was renting a location inside the mall, so you ended up going there more often than you would have preferred. It was on one such occasion that you were here, navigating rapidly through the crowded hallways, eager to make it in and out as quickly as you could of this hellish place. Only as you snaked through the crowd, you wound up face to face with a distracted shopper, one arm hooked with multiple shopping bags and the other one holding up a cellphone to ear. With her more focused on her conversation over the phone than her walking, and you moving at such high speeds, the collision was inevitable. You both ended up sprawled on the floor, shopping bags and clothing strewn all around you.

“What the fuck! Can’t you watch where you are going, you dumb bimbo?”

You ignore the audible gasps in the audience that formed around you as you stand back up, wiping yourself off and head out towards your appointment at the bank, without another word for the lady. As you pass her, you notice a few onlookers were helping her up and gathering her things for her, as she was quietly sobbing, visibly shocked and hurt by the collision. You scoff without slowing down. What a drama queen.

You made your way to the bank without further incident, but still flustered and a little angry because of the event, but also mostly because of that lady. It was with that state of mind that you reached reception, to announce your arrival.

“Mister Burnham will be ready for you in just a moment.”

The woman who greeted you didn’t look like your typical receptionist. Dark hair, dark makeup, dark clothing, she looked like she hadn’t quite gotten out of her teenage goth phase, although she did dress appropriately for her job. Having nothing to do while waiting, you couldn’t help but start ranting to her about your earlier encounter.

“You wouldn’t believe the day I just had! Just on my way here, some dumb blonde who was too focused on her pointless shopping and useless phone call to watch where she was going actually ran into me. And then all these shoppers had the gall to take her side and judge me, like I was the one at fault there! Bunch of idiots, but then again how could I expect any more from the kind of people who shop at malls? Clothing, jewelry, makeup, these people are obsessed! This kind of place is truly what is wrong with society… No offense, I know you work here, but honestly, couldn’t you rent some space at a more reputable and dignified place?”

The girl listened to you, her annoyed look darkening with each of your word, her face frowning in disapproval. At one point you thought you could almost see an eerie green glow in her eyes, but you figured it must have been your imagination… Except it wasn’t. You stopped speaking, with a worried look in your eyes and she took the opportunity to respond.

“So… You go around, pushing poor, innocent women to the floor, don’t apologize and even blame them for it? Then when someone helps them, you insult them and their intelligence, when they are kinder and more compassionate than you could ever be? Well, I think you should live life from their perspective for a while, try and learn some empathy.”

The green light in her eyes accentuated, becoming a bright and ominous glow, and you found yourself to be rooted on the spot, unable to move as she thrust her glowing hands towards your helpless form.

“I hereby curse you, to become what you hate. I sentence you to a life in heels, a life in skirts, a life in blouses. I sentence you to a life of endless shopping, of dressing up, of obsessing over your appearance. I curse you to live your life as a fashion oriented young woman!”

As she spoke, the clothes on your body started to reform. Your casual, but smart outfit reshaping into something much more feminine, shiny black high heels, a smooth pencil skit and a classy blue blouse. Even your undergarments shifted, boxers thinning and becoming a pair of silky thongs that constricted your dick and ran up your butt, leaving no panty line to be seen on your figure-hugging skirt, and a bra materialized on your hairy, masculine chest underneath your clothes, cupping your pectorals.

It all looked awkward and a little ridiculous on your male body, until your body started to change along to match your new garments. Boobs grew out, filling the cups of your bra. Your dick shrank into nothingness, leaving only a bare patch of skin underneath your panties, which moments later split open into a plump pair of lips. Ass and hips enlarged while your waist caved in, giving you a nice hourglass figure, which was enhanced by your new figure-hugging pencil skirt. Brown hair tumbled past your face and shoulders, as they shrank down to dainty and cute proportions, befitting of the gorgeous woman you were becoming. In the end, you were left young, beautiful and stylish. But the curse of the woman didn’t just affect your clothes and your body, but your mind as well. Looking at her, you couldn’t help but notice how her eyeliner wasn’t even on both sides, and how her foundation wasn’t exactly the right shade so you could see where it began and where it started. You regained control; the curse having done its work. You went to yell out at the receptionist, order her to change you back, only your new personality took control, putting words into your mouth, as you felt yourself smile unwillingly at her.

“Hiii! Cute outfit! So, uhm, can I get my credit card limit raised up? I have a big day of shopping planned, and 5000$ just isn’t going to do it!”

The girl responded with a devious smile and a look of satisfaction on her face.

“Sure thing Honey, we can do that no problem! I am just going to need your card and account information, and in no time you will be off to do as much shopping as you like, if not even more!”

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