Ting-ding

 

    The curio shop’s old wood door swung open and closed as I walked in. The walls were adorned with all sorts of dusty knickknacks and strange-looking trinkets. There were jeweled lockets, monstrous clay masks, dolls of every shape and color, and I’m pretty sure I saw at least three mummified monkey paws. Yep, this was the place.

 

    When I heard rumours of a would-be robber trying to hit up a curio shop, only to get transformed into a real-life catgirl, I knew I had to investigate further. Obviously it was a long shot, but hey, I was desperate. Since I was a little… kid… I had always been obsessed with magic. Like most people, I knew next to nothing about how it actually worked, but I was fascinated with how witches could do things that should be impossible. Things like, you know. Like turning someone into a girl.

 

    I’m trans. I haven’t known that for quite as long, or at least I haven’t had the right words for it. There’s a big difference between knowing you want to be a girl and knowing that wanting to be a girl makes you one. I have my online friends to thank for opening that Pandora’s box for me.

 

    In my rational mind, I know that I became a “real girl” the moment I realized I was trans. It’s just hard to feel like one when you spend every day pretending to be the same boy you’ve always been, and meanwhile your psychiatrist still won’t set you up with any goddamn hormones even though you’ve been begging him for months. See, if you were in my shoes you would trust a witch over a pharmacist any day.

 

    “Welcome!” came a cheery voice from the back of the store. “Hold on, I’ll be right out!” The bead curtain behind the counter parted and a woman stepped out. If I had to guess what a real life witch looked like, I would imagine someone like this. She was tall, her head almost reaching the top of the doorframe, and appeared to be in her late thirties. She had curly brown hair down to her shoulders, and thick round glasses that magnified her hazel eyes (and the crows’ feet beside them). This must have been Circe.

 

    Trailing behind her was a tiny catgirl, who yawned before sleepily flopping over onto the floor beside her. She had straight, black hair down to her upper back, and of course an adorable pair of fuzzy little ears sticking out the top of her head. Her tail swished around idly behind her and she rolled onto her side.

 

    I guess that confirmed it. Unless there was another antique shop in town run by an eccentric middle-aged lesbian and her catgirl daughter, this was the place.

 

    I wasted no time, and moved on with the next stage of my plan. I reached into the pocket of my jacket and drew my weapon. “Put your hands where I can see them! This is a stick up!” I shouted as menacingly as I could manage, aiming my fake firearm at the unimpressed witch.

 

    Circe furrowed her eyebrows. “Honey, that’s a water gun. If you want me to cast a spell on you, you can just ask. It’s literally my job.”

 

    The catgirl on the floor next to her rolled onto her back and looked up at me. “You’re like the third person to try this since I came in last week, and you have by far the fakest-looking gun. I had no idea so many people were this desperate to be girls or whatever.”

 

    Well, that certainly made things easier. The more I thought about it, the more sense it made that other girls would have the same idea as me and come in hoping to get hexed. Who wouldn’t jump at the chance to speedrun transition?

 

    “Uh, alright then,” I mumbled, looking back at the door to make sure no one else was coming in. “Can you, uh... you know. Can you turn me into a girl too, please? If you don’t mind.”

 

    “Alright,” Circe said, smirking. “Congrats, sweetie. You’re a girl.”

 

    I looked down at myself, seeing that absolutely nothing had changed. “Oh, come on. You know what I meant. Yes, I know I’m already a girl, can you make me look like one?”

 

    “Done,” the witch smugly replied. “You now look like a girl.”

 

    “Ok, I get it. I know I’m trans, alright? I’m asking for you to magically transition me like that first robber,” I practically begged. “You can even do some weird witch bullshit like turn me into a frog girl for all I care, I just can’t stand waiting another four months for my psychiatrist to let me start taking hormones.”

 

    Circe’s eyes widened and she nervously adjusted her glasses. “Wow. Okay, message received. Just making sure you’re not an egg before we can go through with this. Follow me,” she directed me to the bead curtain behind the counter. “Take care not to step on Kitty, she isn’t going to move even if you ask her.”

 

    “Mow,” Kitty confirmed.

 

    I stepped over the catgirl on the floor and did my best to ignore her batting at my shoelaces as I entered the mysterious backroom. If you’ve ever worked retail, you’ll know what the “in back” of a store is supposed to look like, and this looked nothing like that. Circe’s workshop looked like a cross between my grandma’s kitchen, a high school science lab, and a pop-up Halloween superstore. A quietly burning stove in the back of the room was adorned with both an ordinary teapot and an Erlenmeyer flask filled with bubbling green slime. There was a framed black-and-white photo of a woman who looked exactly like Circe wearing a pinstripe suit. The antique dollhouse on one of the tables appeared to be inhabited by an actual small woman, who looked up from her tiny newspaper to wave at me.

 

    Circe eventually led me up a small flight of stairs to her office, where she sat me down in a comfy recliner and began rifling through her desk. “So, you’re a girl,” she began. “How long have you known?”

 

    “How long have I known I’m a girl or how long have I wanted to be one?” I asked. “Cause I’ve wanted it since at least as far back as high school, but I only found out what that meant from some of my trans friends last year. Wait, did the other girls who came in know they were trans yet?”

 

    “One of the girls did,” she answered while mixing some oddly colored liquids into a flask. “The other girl didn’t, and the third person knew they didn’t want to be a boy, but they didn’t know all of their options. Anyways, drink this.”

 

    She offered me the swirling elixir and I eyed it dubiously. “What will this do to me?” I asked.

 

    “Exactly what you want it to, darling,” she responded warmly. “Oh, unless you want any nonhuman stuff. That’s available if you want it, but this potion won’t do that. Do you want that? You can tell me if you want that.”

 

    “I’m fine, ma’am,” I reassured her, downing the drink. “So when does it GHLK--!”

 

    Suddenly my throat closed up, my legs turned to jelly, and the room started spinning. Thankfully I was seated securely in the recliner, otherwise I definitely would have taken a nasty fall.

 

    “Oh, sorry!” Circe yelped, steadying my numb body in the armchair. “I should have warned you about that, this potion’s a doozy. The magic uses your soul as the blueprint for your ideal self, and shapes your body according to that ideal. So all you have to do is sit back and let the potion do its work.”

 

    The next few minutes all seemed to melt together like one long fever dream. I felt my head sliding down the back of the recliner as I lost several inches of height, followed by my hair tickling the back of my neck as it grew down to my shoulders. The muscles in my core tightened as they compressed inward, then relaxed as my tummy pushed back out, a little smaller than before. I could feel my shirt get looser as my ribs and shoulders shrank, but my chest stayed tight against the fabric. My butt got squishier and pushed outwards against my formerly baggy jeans, but not uncomfortably so. Finally, my eyes shot open and all my muscles spasmed at once, causing my limbs to all shoot out awkwardly in different directions.

 

    “Eep!” I squealed in a completely unfamiliar voice. Standing before me was an eager-looking Circe, hands in her pockets and mouth stretched into an absolutely giddy smile. “Is it normal to feel this… loose? I feel like I just got out of a full body massage.” I looked down at myself, only to be greeted by a pretty generous pair of breasts. “Oh my god. Did my soul really think I needed boobs this big?”

 

    My new voice was so ordinary and yet so beautiful. It sounded exactly like my voice was supposed to sound. Not too high or too low, and just rough enough to sound casual, but not manly. For the first time ever, I sounded like me.

 

    “Like, holy shit. They’re so big,” I reiterated in my perfect, beautiful voice. “Can I borrow a bra or something?”

 

    “Of course, honey,” Circe chuckled. “I’m not judging you. It’s your body and you get to choose the bust size. From the looks of it, you’re about an E cup, so I’ll just fetch you a wireless bra. Go ahead and get used to yourself, I’ll be right back.”

 

    Circe excitedly rushed down the stairs while I got out of the chair and found my bearings. I didn’t seem to be much shorter, and my clothes still almost fit. My pants were sort of an awkward shape for my legs, and I would definitely need new shoes, but I wouldn’t have much trouble walking home like this.

 

    I stretched out my new legs a little to get used to them. My thighs were pretty big before, but now they were shapely too. I was also happy to learn that even though my tummy had gotten smaller, it was still squishy and cute. I gave it a little pinch and smiled at how soft it was. I also noticed that my arms had lost their thick layer of dark hair, and reaching up to my face, I could feel that it was completely smooth too.

 

    “I’m back!” Circe came jogging up the stairs carrying far more than just a bralette. “I brought you a couple different fits of bra, so you can decide which is comfiest and wear that. Here’s some really comfy panties that I highly recommend. And I brought you some hair ties, cause I know you’re gonna need some of these and it’s good to form habits early. Let me know if you need anything else!” She handed me the pile of supplies, beaming. “Wait! I almost forgot.” She snapped her fingers and my clothes suddenly changed shape to fit my new body. “Perfect.”

 

I leaned in and hugged her tight. “Circe, this is so wonderful! How much do I owe you?”

 

“Money is fake, darling,” she said. “I’m a witch. I don’t need it. Just promise me you’ll visit every once in a while. Oh! Have you thought of a name?”

 

    “I’m Madeleine.” I answered. I got the name from a video game character, but Circe didn’t need to know that.

 

    “It’s been lovely meeting you, Madeleine. If you ever have any questions, just swing by and I’ll help you out.”

 

    Together we walked back down the stairs and into the curio shop’s lobby. I stepped over the now asleep Kitty and turned to bid Circe farewell, only to be rudely interrupted by the ting-ding of the shop’s front door opening.

 

    “Like, everyone put your hands up!” shouted the long-haired young robber who had just entered. They were brandishing a plastic toy revolver that was much too small for their hands, and clearly struggling to keep a straight face. “This is a robbery!”

 

    Circe and I looked at each other, then back at the robber. “Are you here because of the catgirl thing?” Circe asked, gesturing to Kitty, who was still sleeping. “I just got done with another client, but I can take you in just a second, sweetie.”

 

    “O-oh!” They stammered, dropping their six-shooter. They tried to hide it, but I caught them looking down at my new chest and back up at me, blushing. “You were- you’re--?”

 

    “I’ll leave you both to it,” I told Circe, patting the robber on their head as I walked past them. “Are you free next week if I visit?”

 

    “I’ll see you then!” she called after me. “Now, where were we?” I could hear her say to the robber on my way out the door.