Damon was not happy about her new body. She wasn't happy about being a spider, and she wasn't happy about being a she. She was at least a little bit happy about her new venom, though, because at least she was on the verge of getting her revenge.
Unfortunately, the witch knew what was going to happen next and wasn't worried at all. Damon's eight legs froze up, a powerful wind washed over her, and all the surroundings seemed to get larger as more and more of Damon's weight and size dissolved away in the magical blast.
The witch was looking taller and taller, as Damon got smaller and smaller, first a yard, then a foot, and finally Damon was no longer even two inches long. Damon had been unfathomably larger as a newborn baby years earlier, but giving up her humanity (and her masculinity) also entailed giving up the stature (both physical and social) that she had amassed over her twenty-some years of royal life. She was now nothing but a tiny spider, certainly not a harmless spider, but a tiny spider nonetheless. The witch knew better than to reach down and pick up a black widow, so she waved her arms and stirred up a wind to blow Damon out of the cottage and into the woods, first a mile, then maybe three or miles away. Even if Damon had bitten her, she could just magically make herself immune to the poison. It would still have been painful, though.
So here Damon was, a poisonous spider out in the wild. It would be interesting to see how this scenario was going to play out.