"I started believing in magic again at the age of twenty one, when my ex-girlfriend, who turned out to be a witch, decided to punish me by transforming me into the most alluring siren you had ever met."
Transcript: I stopped believing in magic at the age of eight when I discovered that magicians were nothing but lying tricksters. I started believing in magic again at the age of twenty one, when my ex-girlfriend, who turned out to be a witch, decided to punish me by transforming me into the most alluring siren you had ever met. She turned me into a teenage boy’s walking wet dream.
It was supposed to teach me a lesson, to help me understand a relationship from the female’s point of view and to help me see the error of my ways. My ex was fed up with the way I still lusted after other women and was even more repulsed at the fact that I had the gall to suggest a threesome.
The change was never meant to be permanent, but due to a slight miswording of the spell on her part and due to the fact that I may or may not have slept with a multitude of men during my supposedly temporary tenure as a woman ( and before you say anything, you try being in the body of a voluptuous sex goddess whilst retaining the frenzied sex drive of a man), the magic was sealed within me and I became stuck in the body of a Playboy centerfold forever.
My ex and I split up shortly after and I went through a string of boy toys before finally meeting my current boyfriend, Jack. In some ways, my ex has succeeded in her attempts to change me. These days, I no longer leave the toilet seat up, pay much attention to sports, or go out with the guys for drinks. Ironically, one of the few things that hasn’t changed is exactly what she set out to correct in the first place. I still find other girls quite attractive and I still can’t seem to keep my eyes, or hands among other things if they’ll let me, off of them. Unlike my ex however, Jack doesn’t seem to mind my passions one bit.