Lacking the Needed Perspective

Brad was, by any measure he could think of, any girl's dream. He was tall, buff, handsome, well-groomed and even reasonably smart. Plus he always treated girls he was with well, remained faithful as long as he was actually with someone, and tried to be as sensitive and considerate as he knew how. So why, he wondered, was he sitting now at the other end of a third breakup with a girl after being together for nearly an entire year? It was turning into a sort of awful yearly tradition for him, and seemed set to sour his winter break yet again.

"Go to Miranda," his friends said. "She helps everyone! She helped me out when I had a problem." So, reluctantly, he did, approaching her out in the courtyard one day when she was sitting on a bench with seemingly nothing to do.

She greeted him with a smile and a little wave, silently inviting him to take a seat on the opposite end of the bench. "Hello, Brad," she said in a friendly tone of voice—but he couldn't help some worry that this was their first time meeting, yet she already knew his name.

"Uh, hey..." He started awkwardly; something about her demeanor had him off-balance right away. "You...got a few minutes to hear me complain?"

"Certainly," she nodded. "I thought I might see you sooner or later."

"Well, uh—" Maybe it would be easiest to jump right to the problem, he thought. "I just can't seem to keep a real relationship going with anyone. Like, ever. The first time someone broke up with me, I thought, you know, maybe it just wasn't right for us, or maybe it was even just her. A-and the second time, you know, maybe me just having bad luck; coincidences happen, right? But after Sandra and me were going steady for almost a year now and then we get into a huge fight all of a sudden and three days later she dumps me—third time it's happened, I gotta think the problem's with me. So: What am I doing wrong, y'know?"

"Brad," she said in a kind, almost motherly tone of voice, "Not every breakup is somebody's fault. Sometimes people can think they're compatible for a long time before finding out they're not. And you can't assume that finding a real, lasting relationship should only take three tries. Speaking from experience, you can get to know a lot of people you are interested in, but not end up remaining with any of them."

"Really?" Brad said, and received a solemn nod in reply. "I just wish I knew what it was like," he said. "I mean, I think I'm being a good boyfriend, but it's been a few too many times I get in a fight 'cause I don't understand what she really wants, and can't no matter how hard I try. What's it like over there, huh?" he said with a vague gesture toward her. "I gotta be missing something."

"Hmm." Miranda put her hand to her lower lip in a thoughtful expression. "Perhaps I can help you with that. Would you meet up with me here, in one day's time?"

"Tomorrow?" Brad said; she had a funny way of talking, he thought. "Sure. I mean, I got a class right before this time, so I might be a little late, but..."

"That will suffice," she said, giving him a small nod and gathering her things before standing up. "I will await you then. I've work to do now."

"O-okay." The way she said that, and now began to stride away quickly, with a purpose, made him apprehensive about whatever her solution was, but—after all, she was supposed to be some sort of miracle worker. He'd just have to wait and see.

When he arrived the following day, there she was, sitting as peacefully as ever. She even waved him over and greeted him exactly the same way. Once he was seated, he realized her right hand was closed, holding something in her palm perhaps.

"The truth is, I can't help feeling a little poorly for you," she began, "since—a few days ago, I did not advise Sandra specifically to break it off with you, but I did give her advice which may have led her to that decision all the same."

"Really?" he said first. Then: "I-I mean, it's fine. You give good advice, so...maybe it really was the best for both of us."

"I'm glad you're mature enough to accept that, however reluctantly," she said. "At any rate, this is what I have." She opened her palm toward him to reveal a simple ring, seemingly wrought of gold—but did not extend her hand as though to offer it to him. "To put it bluntly, this is a magic ring. If you—and you alone—wear it, it shall give you the form and mind of a woman. Perhaps that way you can learn whatever it is you believe you are missing. Take it off, and you will return to normal."

Brad stared at the small trinket, then back up to Miranda's straight, perfectly serious face, then down at the ring again. "A-are you for real?" he said, naturally incredulous.

"But of course. Look around you," she gestured with her free hand. "Nobody is paying us any attention." Indeed, it was true: The two of them were being avoided and totally ignored by everyone else on the courtyard. "You could shout, and they still wouldn't spare a glance. Such is my doing. So if you don't believe me, try it on here and now. I can guarantee our privacy here, you see. If I'm lying and I cannot, then the ring also will do nothing, and so there is no harm in trying it, is there?" Now she held it out for him to take.

"Uh...I guess not," he said, slowly reaching over to pick it up. She could be truly impossible to argue with if she wanted to be, it seemed.

Once the ring was in his right hand, Brad held up his left and slid it down onto his ring finger, finding it an eerily comfortable, perfect fit for being from someone who'd never so much as looked at or felt his hands, much less measured the fingers. It began to faintly glow then, barely visible in the afternoon sunlight, which was already some further evidence that magic, or at least something unusual, was involved.

The first instinct he then had was—although it had looked perfectly plain before—that it looked so girly on his finger. An irrational part of him wanted to take it off right away because of that, like that "girliness" was going to infect the rest of him if he let it. His more rational side remained in control, keeping it on instead.

Brad shuddered suddenly, feeling a chill run down his spine. Then he felt a sensation not unlike his muscles relaxing while someone gently massaged his shoulders, and found his perspective slowly sinking as he started to shrink. "W-whoa.." he mumbled, holding his hand up to his face and seeing it slowly diminish in size. The arm attached to it was slimming down, too, his solid muscles steadily melting away. Looking down and pulling the hem of his shirt up briefly, Brad discovered that even his six-pack was fading, rapidly softening and flattening as the ring's power ebbed his manly strength away. The part of him that didn't like the ring was crying out now—Look what it's doing to me!—but somehow it felt weaker, fainter, as a different part—which seemed to him not new but not entirely familiar either—eagerly wondered just how cute he was going to turn out.

Brad's shirt billowed out around him while his jacket threatened to slip off entirely, his feet pulling off the ground and his pants sagging around his hips as he grew slimmer and smaller, his shoulders narrowing and his limbs getting shorter and smaller. He felt a gentle slipping, tugging sensation between his legs that made the displeased part of him panic on its way toward the back of his mind, but delighted the rest of him with its gentle, pleasant tingling. That tingle abruptly spread up and down, all over his body, taking away his ugly body hair as it went, smoothing and softening his skin and—as he rubbed his chin with his small, delicate fingers—utterly destroying his facial hair. He let out a pleased "Aa~ah" in a high tenor voice—far above the one he'd had seconds earlier in pitch—as the tingling hit his scalp and soft, deep purple hair showered down across the sides of his face, over his narrow shoulders and down his back.

Brad knew now that he wanted to be a girl, completely and utterly. That 'boyish' part of his mind that disliked the idea was so far gone he couldn't even feel it anymore. And so, he welcomed the rapid shrinking of the ugly thing between his legs with a pleased "Ooh, mmn~mmnh" in a girlish voice which was still steadily rising in pitch, and greeted the deeply pleasant, tingly sensation as it finally, defeatedly, slunk its way inside her body and became womanhood with a happy, breathy "Aa~aahh..!" All at once she was female inside and out, and loving every bit of it. Then her hips burst outward, drawing a surprised "Ooh!" in her adorable, high soprano voice as she felt them rapidly filling out, stretching the material of her boyish underwear and pants with wide hips, thick thighs and a nice, plump bottom. Finally she let out a very pleased "Aa~aahhnn~nn..!" as two bumps centered on her nipples spread forward, just as rapidly forming a nice, big pair of breasts covered in soft, deeply sensitive skin that rubbed pleasantly against her t-shirt as they bounced outward, making her body just as completely female as her mind.

Brad slowly opened her eyes, staring downward in response to the sensation of cloth sliding around across her body, and caught sight of the final masculine part of her appearance promptly correcting itself: The boring shirt became a cute white blouse, her jacket turning pink and popping out a snowflake pattern across the hem; the pants split off at the thighs, the upper part softening and spreading into a frilly, dark plaid skirt while the rest pulled together into a pair of long, tight stockings, merging with her socks in the process. "Mm~mh.." she murmured softly, enjoying the show—and finding every bit of her new outfit to be perfectly cute on her.

After panting for a second or two, Brad looked around suddenly, her hair swishing around, in a slight panic as she realized just how embarrassing her reaction to that transformation had been. But thankfully, everyone really had failed to notice any of it; they were still going about their business as though nothing had happened at all in the vicinity of the bench. But...

"Waah!" Brad stood up suddenly, grabbing her coat and blushing brilliantly in Miranda's direction; after all, she certainly had seen and heard all of that.

"Eheh, heheheh," she giggled nervously. "Uumm.."

The redhead seemed perfectly calm still, as though nothing out of the ordinary had even happened. "There is nothing to be ashamed of. The physical experience of such a drastic shift is naturally a bit extreme in nature," she said. "Now, I trust you are convinced of that ring's power?"

"Yeah!" she said with a quick nod, holding her left hand up to look at it again—only to find it wasn't there. "Waaiit..."

"It's invisible," Miranda explained patiently. "So that nobody notices the source of your 'disguise' and exposes you by removing it. You alone may remove it. But I must warn you."

She stood up, a stern and serious expression on her face which made Brad rather nervous. She also realized, with a bit of a start, that she was now half a head shorter than the redhead, making her...well...calculations were difficult. Very short, was the main thing!

"The effect which returns you to normal when that ring is removed requires something from you to 'inform' it what 'normal' even is. But a person's body is a rather elastic thing. If you are in that form too often and for too long—by which I mean a habit of using it near-constantly—it may begin to recognize you as you are now as 'normal', and removing the ring will do nothing then. Should that occur, feel free to seek me out to correct the problem. But I will be disappointed in your lack of caution in that occurrence," she said.

"Oh. Okay," Brad nodded. "Um...but, thank you though. Seriously. This is, so...different. It's exciting all by itself somehow!"

"That is hardly surprising. People do tend to enjoy new experiences these days," Miranda said with a very slight shake of her head. "Well, enjoy yourself, then. Just bear my warning in mind."

"I will!" she said, waving excitedly to the witch as she walked away. Once she was gone, people seemed to stop completely ignoring Brad's presence—although they didn't seem to think her 'suddenly' being there was anything out of the ordinary, either.

The first thing she wanted to do was get a good look at her new self in the mirror, she decided. And while she was on the way, maybe she could come up with a name to use when she was like this. For...disguise purposes, of course. Perhaps it'd be fun to see what one of her usual boy buddies thought of her now. A lot of them were rather cute, she realized, another blush running across her cheeks. After all—she did want to know what it was like on this side of the fence!