From Arrogant Princess to Manual Laborer
It was my day off, and I was already bored just thinking about staying still. As I walked down the sidewalk, my mind full of disdain for that stifling day, I spotted a manual laborer leaning against the wall next to the shop. He was only wearing pants, his sweaty, exposed body making his repulsive appearance even worse. He was an old, pot-bellied man with sticky skin from all the sweat, and the graying hair scattered across his arms and chest only made him uglier. The mere sight of that man made me nauseous.
For some inexplicable reason, he flashed a feeble smile when he saw me approaching and said in a hoarse voice, "Good morning, pretty girl."
That irritated me deeply. Who did he think he was? I responded, full of disgust: "Shut up, you ridiculous fool." The smile vanished from his face, replaced by a look of sadness. He lowered his head, clearly hurt, and went back to his heavy work, but I didn’t care anymore. It wasn’t my problem. I left home that morning determined to waste some of my time on something trivial. That's when I passed by that little esoteric shop in the city center, almost hidden between a café and a clothing store. I went in, more out of curiosity than real interest. The place was a mess of trinkets, smelling of cheap incense, with lighting that seemed to come from melted candles. "So ridiculous," I thought, smirking in disdain.
"Can I help you with something, dear?" the clerk asked in a soft, almost irritating voice. The way she looked at me, as if she knew something I didn't, made me uncomfortable. But I wasn't going to show it.
"Oh, I'm just looking. These things… they're funny, aren't they?" I replied, not hiding the sarcasm in my voice. She didn't seem fazed.
"Sometimes, the funny things have more power than we imagine," she said, with that tone that only made me want to laugh more.
She looked at me for a moment, as if she were assessing me, and then said, "I have something you might want to see." Without waiting for my response, she went to the back of the shop and returned with a small metal amulet, hanging from a black cord. It looked cheap, worthless.
"This amulet can reveal a person's true nature. Maybe it will show you something interesting," she said, holding it out to me. I laughed, taking the amulet with disdain.
"Oh, sure, like this is going to make any difference in my life. It's going to put me in my place, right?" I replied, laughing at the suggestion. "Well, at least it will give me a good laugh later." Still laughing inside at the situation, I held the amulet in my hand, and then, in the blink of an eye, everything changed.
Terror overwhelmed me. The world around me seemed to spin as I struggled to comprehend what had happened. I looked at my hands… thick, dirty, calloused. I was wearing a shirt that was drenched in sweat, sticking to my skin and accentuating every curve of that voluminous belly. And the hair… my God, the hair! I felt the brush of the damp hair under my armpits, heavy and nauseating with every movement. The stench of my own body was unbearable. A bitter, sour smell mixed with the stifling heat of sweat running in rivers down my back. I could feel my new anatomy sticking between my legs. With a mix of panic and fury, I re-entered the store, feeling that grotesque body sway with each heavy step. I was furious, desperate, and at the same time disgusted with every part of myself. I adjusted my shirt, embarrassed with people around staring at me. As I corrected my posture, I could feel the spherical belly against the now-closed damp shirt—it was terrifying.
“What have you done to me?!” I yelled, but the voice that came out wasn’t mine. It was deep, rough, laden with a rage that felt so… masculine. I stood there, panting, feeling the sweat trickle down my stubbly face as I tried to understand what was happening. That’s when I saw her: my body, my real body, standing in the store, just as terrified as I was. I was looking back at myself with my own eyes… and they were filled with fear. The old witch of the store smiled enigmatically and said, “This place provides fair exchanges. Now, the worker is in a better position… and you are where you truly belong.” I clutched my protruding belly while shouting, “Do you think this is my place?” The witch merely laughed, watching my terrified face. I looked at that man in my body, trying to process what she was saying. He was as lost as I was, looking at himself, at the slender, elegant hands that were now his. He looked confused, scared, like a child in someone else’s body.
I had to make a deal with the shopkeeper. I knew my parents would never believe a word I said about what had really happened. Who would? She promised that the change would last only one day. "As soon as you sleep, you'll return to your original body," she assured. I had no choice. I went to the worker's house, and he went to mine.
His house was a cramped, dirty cubicle, nothing like what I was used to. I just wanted to lie down and sleep, but before that, I had to use the bathroom. My God, the disgust I felt… that bathroom was so degrading, with the cold water, the sensation of damp hair, and the unbearable stench of sweat embedded in the skin. I almost cried out of revulsion.
Finally, I lay down on the hard bed, feeling the weight of that body against the rough sheets. I focused on trying to sleep, hoping that the nightmare would end.
But when I woke up… The first thing I did was scratch my hairy chest—nothing had changed. I was still him. The smell, the weight, the sensation of the hair, the belly that felt like it weighed tons on my body. In desperation, I grabbed the phone and tried to call the store. But the response was always the same: "The number does not exist." My God, the number does not exist!
Panicking, I went to the store in person. When I arrived, my heart sank. The store simply did not exist anymore. There was no sign that it had ever been there. It was as if everything had been a delusion.
I stood there, sweat running down my back, feeling the weight of that grotesque body crushing me. And for the first time in my life, I didn't know what to do...
In the past few months, my life has turned into a nightmare. I had to learn to be a man in ways I never imagined. The body, once smooth and feminine, now forced me into a rough, macho behavior that I hated. There were no traces left of my former femininity; everything had transformed into something I barely recognized as myself. No matter how hard I tried, not even my feminine gait remained; I walked like a big, beer-bellied man.
Going to the bathroom has become a terrifying experience. Peeing standing up? A nightmare. Now I understand why guys always miss; it's incredibly difficult to aim with these things, especially since mine seems to be on the larger side. And men's bathrooms, with their awful odors and filth, are even worse. The simple act of taking a shower has turned into a complex task. I no longer needed to use shampoo on my head since my hair was falling out in clumps, but now I had to use shampoo all over my body to clean all the hair that covered me and also to try to control the unbearable smell emanating from me. I tried shaving, but the hair grew back so quickly that it was impossible to keep up. With the miserable pay of a laborer, I couldn't afford a constant shaving routine. Waxing was expensive, and the rapid hair growth was a constant reminder of my new reality. I ended up resigning myself to dealing with the smell and the hair because there was no other choice.
I never heard from the laborer who took over my old body. He had no family, and now I was alone, condemned to live as a middle-aged, hairy, and unpleasant man. There was no more hope of reversing what had happened. Now, my nights are spent in bars, drinking beer and trying to find some comfort in this new life. I’ve learned to go shirtless because the feeling of my belly pressing against the shirt was unbearable, and the heat only made it worse. Sometimes there are a few advantages: I no longer have to worry about wearing shirts all the time, and in a way, I feel an independence I didn't have before. I sit at the table, scratch my belly, and give it a slap, letting out a heavy sigh. I look at the reflection of a middle-aged man in my glass and sigh again. I am a man now…