But before anyone in the family could move, the old crone swiftly lifted her walking stick into the air, pointed it directly at the group, and said: “I need a new 'family' to keep me company in this lonely old place.”
Steve found himself frozen in place, every muscle in his body paralyzed by some magical force. He tried to scream out to the rest of his family, warning them to flee this place... but discovered his vocal chords had been rendered immobile as well.
“Head of the family,” cackled the old crone. “You shall become my eldest daughter.”
Unable to move his head, Steve was only able to cast his eyes downward a tiny bit to witness the stunning transformation to his body. He felt himself shrinking, as the six-foot tall middle aged man began to become a five-foot-two adolescent girl. His face softened, his complexion grew lighter, and his thinning hair suddenly sprouted to life and grew into a thick, shoulder-length mane of fiery red, luxurious looking hair. His waist narrow and his pot belly disappeared, while simultaneously his hips widened and his thighs and butt became softly rounded. Small mounds of perky, pert, bouncy breasts swelled up from his chest. His throat grew tighter and he almost choked as he felt his windpipe suddenly grow smaller and his voice box shifted position. Finally, Steve stood transfixed with horror as he felt his manhood shrink and finally shrivel up into oblivion.
“Welcome, 'Stephanie,'” cooed the old hag. “My lovely new daughter. Now run upstairs to your room and get dressed.”
Steve tried to protest but found some strange force was compelling him to obey the commands of this old woman.
“Y-Y-Yes, mother,” he said with the voice of a sixteen-year old girl.
Steve hiked up his now oversized dockers to prevent them from falling down around his newly petite ankles, and trudged off compliantly up a staircase at the other end of the room. Upstairs, he felt a weird compulsion urging him to open the third door on the left in a long corridor. Going inside, he discovered the bedroom of a teenage girl... from the dawn of the last century! Again, a mysterious urging forced Steve to strip off all his male clothes. Rummaging through an antique dresser, he found a lacy pair of bloomers and an old fashioned brassiere. Steve quickly put them on. He followed that with a frilly petticoat, black stockings, a garter belt, a modest, tightly buttoned blouse, and finally a very long skirt. He was a bit amazed by the small size of his new collection of shoes. But sure enough, the first pair (a shiny, black ankle boot with a conservative heel) fit him perfectly.
Steve sat down on an antique chair in front of a small, old-style vanity. He gazed in shocked wonder at his reflection in the mirror – other than his hair looking a bit ruffled, he appeared the perfect image of a young lady from over a hundred years ago.
“Stephanie!” called out the distant voice of the old hag. “Hurry up, dearie!”
Again, Steve felt a powerful compulsion to obey his new 'mother.' He hurriedly brushed his hair, affixed some hairpins and ribbons to it, and somehow transformed it into an appropriate hairstyle to match his new attire.
Then he arose from the vanity, left his new bedroom, and daintily tiptoed back down the stairs.