Damon stood there with an empty bottle with a wide grin on his face. The witch rolled her eyes. She'd already told him he could turn into something like a troll, but he had more self-flattering ideas.
* It's based on who I am, and I've got royal blood. I'm going to be a dragon! Yeah! Or something equally noble, like a mighty centaur. *
Damon felt a strange sort of pressure and looked down at his feet. They seemed to be flattening and turning somewhat ... orange?
He sat down and pulled his feet up closer to get a better look and discovered that his five toes had actually fused into four an each foot, and three of the toes were getting longer while one was shrinking. Damon got the shock of his life when the tiny toe on each foot suddenly jerked around to point backwards from the others! He let go of his dignity and shrieked. His toenails deformed into little clawlike protrusions, and he reached down to feel the rough, flat skin of his feet even as it spread up between his long, bony toes until it looked like webbing.
The orange, scaly appearance spread up his legs, which the stunned prince watched with wide eyes and deep breaths. It was when he felt the remolding of his crotch that he scooted back a few inches and gasped. His manly parts came together with his butt into one big hole between his changing legs.
"What are you doing to me?" he asked, looking back up at the witch.
"You're the one who wanted to change," she said with a shrug.
He about to reach down there and try to feel at his new opening when a hard spasm took hold of his arms and jerked them into a new shape which he did not initially recognize. One thing was for sure: he didn't have hands anymore. All he could do was stretch the appendages in and out and flap them up and down awkwardly.
Prince Damon tensed up as a compression enveloped his torso from all directions. His body was getting smaller! Even as he shrank, though, a stretching feeling gripped his thinning neck, and soon he had to balance his little head upon a much more long and flexible connection to his body. He tried to scream again, but instead he let loose a loud and frantic sort of honk.
A honk?
* I'm a ... I'm a ... *
As if to finish his mental sentence for him, the hairs on his body tingled and prickled in their follicles, growing out and thickening into obvious white feathers. From his fearfully flailing arms came longer, stronger feathers, fully revealing them at last as a pair of flapping goose wings. His mouth and nose jutted out before him and hardened themselves up into a bluntly pointed orange beak. The witch giggled while the former prince honked, gazing dejectedly at himself from atop his long white neck.
* I'm a goose! Not even a troll, just a boring white goose. How is this even mythological, dammit?! *
All at once, Damon felt a massive load work its way down toward his cloaca. This was easily the most embarrassing occurrence so far, because he thought he was about to relieve himself in front of the witch. But although it was the same opening, this new compulsion felt oddly different from the expulsion of waste. An urge fell on him to push, and when he finally gave in, a hard, weighty mass opened up his hole and forced itself out. Relief washed over Damon's feathered body, and the product of his bodily function hit the ground with a thump.
The witch screeched out a cackle, and Damon craned his new neck around to see what came out of him. Rolling back behind the startled prince was a round, yellow mass that surprised them both.
"Well, what do you know?" the witch said with a laugh. "The goose that lays the golden eggs is real now, and she's mine!" She snapped her fingers, the doors and windows suddenly covered themselves, and Damon found himself (herself!) sitting in a cage that materialized around her. The witch was rubbing her hands together, gazing greedily at her new prize. Damon wasn't going anywhere on his own choice for quite a while.