Boobs. That is the first thing you see as you look down. And until you lift your hands to cup them in confusion, that's the only part of yourself you can see, the size of the smooth swelling breasts cutting off any immediate sight of yourself lower down.
The sight is stunning and slightly arousing. You were a man, after all, when you walked into this place. But the weight you feel and the touch of your now long, slender fingers, confirm that those stunning mammaries are yours.
But what is equally stunning is the shade of your skin. It has gone from fair to a dusky reddish-pink. Your somewhat long, sharp nails are a shiny black, though you don't know if that's natural or some kind of lacquer.
But without seeing them, you quickly become aware that other changes have occured in your body. You simply feel them -- from minor changes, like pointed ears and shifts in your feet, allowing you to easily balance on the balls of your feet -- to major ones. The curving horns on your head. The large, black-fingered red wings sprouting from your shoulders. The long, whip-like, spade-tipped tail. Your wide hips, heart-shaped rear, and thick thighs. Your smooth belly, leading down to a thick-lipped, wet opening. No cock, no balls: plump lips capped by a sensitive nub.
And oh yes, you are wet down there. Your large, plump red nipples are stiffening too. Confused and, frankly, frightened as you are, all these people staring at your bombshell body is turning you on. You technically aren't naked, but the strips of black leather that your clothing has morphed into just make a scandalous frame to your tits and pussy.
You're also several inches taller than you were, placing you above six feet. And, while you show no outward sign of muscle, you feel powerful, like you could punch through a stone wall. You also feel another power within: a dark, hot welling of... energy. Magic. Demonic. Magic.
And closely connected with it, a hunger. Lust. A need to be the centre of attention, to receive sexual tribute from the lesser beings around you. This desire, this carnal pride, this power -- it all feels alien to you still, but it is a part of you. Threatening to taint and warp who you are as a person. And you feel something inside you savouring your resistance to its power, as if knowing you will eventually succumb and embrace the demon you've beome.
You shake your head. Brushing your now long and lustrous black hair from your aristocratic face, you look around at the crowd with yellow, slit-pupiled eyes. Somehow, you've turned into a succubus, losing your humanity and your manhood. You're surrounded by a crowd that is understandably perturbed at a demoness suddenly appearing among them.