Soft Thai music filled the dim room as Mai carefully kneaded the arch of a customer’s foot. The woman was now so relaxed that her head rested on the edge of the chair, a contented smile playing on her lips as her phone sat loosely in her palm. Mai looked at the clock. There was still three hours left of her shift. She sighed and turned back to the task at hand, her thoughts drifting.

Mai. That was her name now. She used to have a different name, but she couldn’t remember what it was. She couldn’t remember much about the person she used to be. Only fragments. First, she wasn’t female. She had been a man, big and strong. Second she wasn’t Thai. She had come from a Western country. Australia? Canada? Mai was fairly sure it was English-speaking. Though, she could barely speak a word of English now, and any word Mai did manage was almost unrecognizable due to her thick Thai accent. Third, she was rich. Or at the very least, had more money than needed to survive: something that Mai no longer had. A poor Thai girl from the sticks, who massaged feet for a living in a shady parlor in Patpong, could barely hope to eat on her meagre pay.

Mai thought that if she never touched a foot again in her life, she’d be happy. She knew how strange her old self would have found this fact. Her old self loved feet. That was the problem. A flash of memory of being on her knees, kissing a woman’s foot entered Mai’s mind. It disgusted her and she forced it away. Mai couldn’t remember much of her old life but she still remembered clearly how she got here. She remembered what she had done. Well, what he had done.

He had stolen flip-flops. He had used them to jack off. He had been caught. Mai could remember the face of the lady after she had discovered what he had done. She could remember her perfect Thai features, scrunched by anger. Most of all, she could remember her gorgeous brown eyes begin to glow a bright purple. Mai remembered the exact words that the woman had said to him next. “If you like feet so much, you will serve them for the rest of your days!” And then he had found himself in this parlor, at the start of a new shift. Nothing about him had changed at that point, other than he was now living in Thailand and compelled to work as a foot massager. No one seemed to think it was strange that a foreign man was suddenly working there, they just accepted it. Mai was sure he enjoyed it at first. Massaging the feet of Thai women, even if it did come with the odd grandma or man, would have been a good experience for him. Mai saw a flash of him desperately wanking off after a shift.

But it didn’t take long to notice the changes. At first, it was just a few inches in height missing, or a few pounds dropped. Then, his hair started to grow long and silky, his lips pouting, his chest swelling. Soon, he found himself with a nice pair of tits. His cock and balls, once been his pride and joy, shrunk and disappeared, replaced by a cute little pussy that dripped and ached when the right mood took over. At first this mood came when massaging feet, but that desire rapidly left him. His foot fetish vanished around the time that Thai took over his mind and his old memories started to fade. Mai could remember this time more clearly, as this was the time that he started to become her. Panic. Desperation. Fear. These emotions had flooded him, as his identity began to slip away, replaced by something new. Something Mai. But there was no stopping it. There was no escape from coming to the parlor and working a shift. There was no escape from serving feet everyday, even if she didn’t want to anymore. Even if she had long ago began to hate it.

How long would it be until all memories of him faded completely? As the customer said thank you and left the room, only to be replaced immediately by another, Mai thought that she just wanted to forget it all. She just wanted this curse to end. But deep down, she knew it never would.