She noticed you admiring your thickly muscled, teenaged body, and smiles. "There're a lot worse things than spendin' the rest of yer life as a strappin' young buck I think. But that body didn't get this from lazin' about!" And with that she ushers you out the door. Stunned from your transformation you dumbly follow her lead. and find yourself standing in a cracked and dusty plot of land. Maggie motions you to a rusty hand-plow. "Planting season's 'round the corner, and this field needs tilling. That's where you come in, boy."
As if by force of habit you walk toward the plow, and are about to push it when you stop yourself. You just graduated law school you’re not some farm-boy! "B-by hand? If you made me into THIS, why do need it done by hand? You’re a witch!" you blurt out in indignation.
Maggie simply smiles and says, "A donkey could do the work just as well, ya know. Now we'll have lunch when yer through with this plot." She turns around and goes inside.
You don a pair of heavy work-gloves and approach the rusted plow. It feels strangely familiar. You heave the farm equipment back and forth to loosen it from the dirt and set to work churning the sun-baked earth. Even with your heavily muscled frame its hard work. But it gives you time to think.
The shock of having been transformed from an educated twenty-something into a rough-handed, slack-jawed farm-boy is beginning to wear off. How are you going to escape? CAN you escape a witch? You look around. As far as you can see there's nothing but fields and old farm buildings. Not even a telephone poll. Its almost as if you've been sent a hundred years back in time to rural America. Maybe you have? You consider trying to slip off, but you realize you’re dead tired and there's no telling what this old woman might do to you. You decide to play along, and by noon you finish up your work.
Maggie's waiting for you with a smile and a pitcher of lemonade. You drink it down greedily, wiping your mouth on your sweaty forearm. She instructs you to wash up for lunch, and directs you to a basin of cool water. You wash the dust from your smooth face; suntanned and dull-eyed, it's a far cry from the angular and handsome face you once sported. Your memory of yourself is already foggy. It doesn't bother you too much but you know it should. You then make a trip to the outhouse before heading indoors. Your uncircumcised, enormous member comes as a pleasant surprise as you relieve yourself. Maybe this won't be so bad after all... you muse as teenaged desired begin to overpower rational thought.