The head mask made you changed you, your clothes and your surroundings to match the ethnicity you chose and that ethnicity was... well... it looked human, but it wasn't. Rather, not exactly.
You are now slim, dainty, and overall petite which makes your bulging belly appear all the more enormous. Your skin is pale, white yet with a sheen that is... greenish. Your hair is longish and fell a bit below your shoulders, with a dark green color. Your ears are slightly pointed and you feel that your face, with its big does eyes, heart shape and fine little lips, is the very portrait of enchantment. You know instinctively that you are a nymph. A wood nymph, to be precise, and that the hut you are lying down into is very much used as a delivery place. There are cloths, linens, and basin of hot water, with a women with horns, very much squat and fat, telling you to relax and that it would soon be over. She barks orders at other creatures to bring her herbs and other items. As for you, you can only suffer through the pain and pangs, coming closer and closer, as it heralds the coming of the baby. You can also hear excited shouts from outside. You can glimpse through your tears and sweat other creatures like centaurs and other nymphs about, mingled with fauns and satyrs, all chatting animatedly and busying themselves. Here, satyrs had dominion and sex and wine rule. As a nymph living amongst them, your virginity is long gone. You don't even know who the father of the child is. Bit it does not matter, as all see it as a surprise for the community and all children are raised by it likewise.
With a last cry of pain, you push yet again and you feel something fall from you. It is the strangest sensation. The satyr midwife grunts happily and she holds a tiny infant in the air, squalling and kicking little hooves feebly. He's got little minuscule horns too.
"It's a boy!" she shouts. "A strong little satyr!"
Everyone outside shouts and cheers and claps in pure joy. The baby is washed, wrapped in loose linens and placed next to you, where it starts to suckle at your new tit with abandon.
"A hungry demanding one," chuckles the midwife. "He'll make one the strong bodily needs to satisfy when older, you mark my words."
You are too confused and exhausted to answer and you slip into a dreamless sleep. Maybe when you wake up you can make sense of it all and see a way out...