"Master, she'd be cute, like melting your heart cute, and she'd have the most adorable voice," you begin, "And she'd be 18, like fresh-faced, just matured, young woman."
"What about her body hair?" Chandler reaches one hand down to stroke his cock, while his other hand is stroking his chin thoughtfully.
"None, master, she shaves everywhere." You wonder if you're going to be forced to shave your body hair. You weren't a very hairy guy, but that would still take forever.
"Nice," Chandler says, "I'm thinking of how to phrase it...hmmm...Got it. You are 18, and a very cute twink, with a twink voice, a slimmer body, still toned but you're so slight that you don't need much muscle to fill out your frame, and you don't have any hair below the neck, because I'm nicer than you and won't force someone to have to shave all the time."
Your body feels warm and fuzzy as you feel the changes taking hold. You look down and see that your body has vanished, leaving you smooth as a newborn. You feel a little lighter, springier. Your abs are still there, but your pecs and arms have diminished.
"Go check yourself out in the mirror, make sure to look all over, then come kneel in front of me," Chandler says.
"Yes, master," you say, hurrying to obey. You don't want to look different, you felt great about yourself before, even if maybe you could have lost a little weight.
You're dumfounded seeing yourself in the mirror. You do look cute, your eyes more colorful. Your facial hair is gone too. Your teeth look better. You inspect your hairless pits, still sweaty from cleaning. Your dick is still hard but there isn't a bit of hair on it, and the scratchy hair on your legs is gone too. Your feet are soft and supple. You turn to face away from the mirror and check out your back over your shoulder, spinal cord clearly visible, along with dimples on your lower back, and your skin doesn't have a mole or other blemish anywhere, possibly the thing you like the most. You flex your arms and see the firm muscle along your back.
You bend down, looking between your legs at the mirror, and pry your slim, firm ass cheeks open, looking at your hole, without a hair to be seen. It still looks like you were fucked by Chandler earlier, and you can see drying cum in your crack. You are grossed out by that and want to clean yourself up, but you have your orders, thus you head back to the living room to kneel at Chandler's feet.
"You look hot as hell, my friend," says Chandler. "Er, I mean, my slave boy."
"Thank you, master," you say, as that is what a good slave would say, but you glare at him anyway, letting your body language say what your mouth can't.
"Now, I'm getting ready for bed," says Chandler. "In your fantasies, where would you make your slave sleep?"