Peyton is fired and goes into the office to retrieve his belongings, where he's bent over his desk by his jerk of a boss in Payback (Chapter 3) available on Body Swap Stories, Smashwords or Amazon.

Chapter 3 in which an arrogant guy is transformed into a sexy woman by some ex-girlfriends, and the only way to change back is to sleep with 100 guys and blow 100 more in a year.

Peyton is fired from his job and has to go into the office to retrieve his belongings. Unfortunately, for him, the spell won't permit him to look anything less than perfect when he goes out. When Peyton's jerk of a boss sees him, he's tempted by Peyton's incredible new body in a way neither can resist.

Peyton dropped all his shopping onto the floor and slumped onto his couch. It hurt being so lovestruck for the asshole he’d just met and sucked off in the mall bathroom. More shopping had helped a tiny bit. The curse had made him just like his exes, who always believed in retail therapy. He’d come home with floral shampoo and fruity conditioner and an entire bag of skin care products. Still, it wasn’t enough to completely make him forget blowing a stranger that he’d completely fallen for.

He dabbed at his eyes gently with a tissue, not wanting to ruin his makeup and send him into yet another spiral, this time for looking ‘ugly’. His blonde body was anything but, but the magic had warped his mentality so that the least little flaws took outsized importance in his mind. He’d liked it when his girlfriends looked pretty and put together, and his ex’s spells had ensured that he would have to live up to his own high standards all the time or face the emotional consequences.

He sniffed and called Madeline. She picked up after two rings.

“Why, Peyton,” Madeline said with mock delight. “This is a surprise.”

“Maddy,” Peyton sniffed. “I’m sorry for everything.”

“I bet you are,” Madeline said, her voice suddenly cold. “After all the bullshit you put me through. Cheating. Gaslighting me. The constant negging. Pretty sure even my therapist hates you.”

“Please, change me back.”

Madeline laughed. “Couldn’t even make it a whole day as a woman, huh? This is just the start. You’ve got a whole year of this, at least. Or, you know, the rest of your life if you don’t get out there and start getting down on your knees or your back.”

“This isn’t fair,” Peyton gripped the phone tightly. “You can’t just fucking force people to change.”

“No one’s forcing you, Peyton. And, hey, lucky your name works for a woman, too, huh? Anyway, no one’s forcing you to do anything. You’ll just have to face consequences. I know that’s probably tough for you, never having faced them and all. If you want to break the spell you know what you have to do. Fuck a hundred guys, blow a hundred guys. Don’t call me whining again.”

She hung up. Peyton dropped his head into his hands and let out a choking sob. Everything seemed so hopeless. These goddamn emotions were just so overwhelming. He’d never cried before, and here he was crying for the fourth time in a day. He felt weak and…and…girly.

He pushed his silky hair out of his face and, still sniffling, he went into the kitchen and rummaged through the fridge. There was leftover Chinese takeout which he dumped onto a plate and warmed up in the microwave. Stuffing his stomach seemed to comfort him, and he polished off the entire plate. Cracking open a beer, he plopped down in front of the television and wandered mindlessly through his streaming services until he landed on a romantic comedy that piqued his interest. He used to hate this corny shit but now he drank it in, watching another and another as the sun set and darkness filled his apartment.

Peyton dragged himself to bed but couldn’t sleep. He didn’t feel right and it took some time before he realized why. He still had his makeup on. He hadn’t done his skin care routine. Fuck. He even had to be perfect in his sleep.

He shampooed and conditioned his hair. Showered and scrubbed his body. He grew sudsy and slick as his hands wandered over every inch of his skin. His perfect little breasts were exciting, as was the emptiness between his legs. Strange that he still had his old male inclinations and desire to touch a female body when he was alone. But when there was a man around all he wanted was to be held.

Afterwards, Peyton combed and blow-dryed his hair. Dabbed on a facemask. Brushed his teeth. Flossed. Moisturized. Finally, with all that done, he could sleep.

Peyton dreamed of his encounter in the bathroom. Only this time the guy had taken him in his arms. Kissed him. Married him. Given him children. His dream was blissfully happy but he awoke to the angry ring of his phone.

Peyton groped blindly about on the nightstand until he found his phone and flicked it on.

“Hello?”

“Jesus Christ,” Peyton’s boss, Gerard, growled down the phone. “Where the hell is Peyton?”

“He’s…uh…still sick.”

Gerard barked rough laughter. “I take it to mean he’s not coming in today?”

“No. He can’t.”

“Great. Well, tell him not to worry about it ever again. He’s fired.”

“But…you can’t…”

“Honey,” Gerard cut him off with a condescending tone that made bright heat gather between Peyton’s thighs. “You’ve probably never run a business. But we can’t make money unless people come into work. Every day he’s out I lose a million dollars, you realize that?”

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