"I pick to become a centaur," you say.
"Not an unpopular choice," says the minotaur, rubbing his chin. "I suppose it is for you a good way to retrieve your manhood and precious virility. Even more than as you were as a human male. Am I correct?"
"Yes," you admit.
Why lie, after all? You want to become male again and as you cannot be human as you were, you might as well make sure you are a true example of manhood. And being a centaur sounds like the perfect choice in that aspect. Centaurs are strong, fierce, excellent warriors, muscled, wild, incredibly impressive and their beards and broad chests are the epitome of what virility should be. Being part stallion also transpires heavily of testosterone, speed, swiftness and great strength. Furthermore, their reproductive parts are that of horse, which means you would get granted enormous testicles and a penis that would put to shame porn stars. This transformation could be a real blessing in disguise!
"Are you sure? Centaurs are half-horse and as such are subject to animalistic urges. You would be no different. And I have no control of what sort of centaur you might be transformed into."
"I don't care a jot about what color I'll be," you mumble. "Just do it. I cannot stand that stupid female body a second more."
"Yet you should..."
"Please. Just do it," you say again, crying.
The minotaur sighs and says the spell, calling upon the powers of old gods and even older and more mysterious powers of metamorphosis, the magic raining down upon you. You are enveloped in magic and can feel your body changing very, very profoundly. You breathe in relief. Soon, you will be delivered of this awful female body that disgusts you so much.