Max paced back and forth in the living room, his heart pounding with panic. He looked down at his new body—the curves, the smooth skin, the long, dark hair—and felt a wave of dread wash over him. He turned to his wife, his eyes filled with desperation.
"Please, tell me this is reversible," he pleaded, his voice now a soft, melodic soprano.
His wife, Sarah, looked at him, her expression calm and collected. "It's not, Max," she said, her voice firm. "The spell is a one-way deal. You're stuck like this."
Max's eyes widened in shock. "What? No, that can't be true. There has to be a way to change me back."
Sarah shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "There isn't. And honestly, I'm happy about it. You were never satisfied with me, always looking at other women. Now you get to experience what it's like to be one of them."
Max stared at her, his mind racing with disbelief and horror. He was trapped in this body, and there was nothing he could do about it. He sank down onto the couch, his shoulders slumping in defeat.
"But... but I can't live like this," he protested weakly.
Sarah shrugged, her expression unsympathetic. "You should have thought about that before you spent all those years objectifying women. Now you get to see what it's like on the other side. Welcome to your new life, Max."