My name is Morgana, and though I possess powers that have been honed over centuries, I spend my days in a rather mundane way: working in a call center. I know, I know—why would a witch of my caliber waste her time in such a place? Truthfully, it’s the monotony that I enjoy. The steady drone of ringing phones, the bland fluorescent lights, the predictable irritations of human interactions—it all keeps my more dangerous impulses in check. But every now and then, a particularly rude caller will give me an excuse to indulge a little...creativity.

Today, as I sip my lukewarm coffee and stare at the endless lines of code on my screen, I feel that familiar itch. I can sense it coming before I even pick up the phone. It’s as if the universe itself is serving me an opportunity on a silver platter. I glance at the caller ID—some obnoxious business executive from New York, the type that yells at their assistant just for breathing too loudly. My fingers twitch with anticipation as I press the button to connect the call.

“Thank you for calling TechNet Solutions, this is Morgana. How may I assist you today?” I say in my sweetest, most professional voice, already knowing what’s coming.

“Yeah, listen, I don’t have time for this bullshit. I need to speak to someone who knows what the hell they’re doing!” The man on the other end of the line barks into the phone, his voice dripping with impatience and condescension. Perfect.

I let his tirade wash over me like water off a duck’s back. While he rants about how incompetent everyone at my company is, I lean back in my chair and start to weave the spell in my mind. With a subtle twist of my fingers, I cast a simple glamour that allows me to see him as if this was a video call. His image appears on my screen—a balding man in his late 40s, dressed in an expensive suit, red-faced from anger. His eyes are cold, calculating, devoid of empathy.

I smile to myself. This one is going to be fun.

“Sir,” I interrupt, feigning concern, “it sounds like you’re under a lot of stress. Why don’t you take a deep breath and tell me exactly what the problem is? I’m sure we can find a solution together.”

“I don’t need your damn sympathy, I need results!” he snaps, but there’s a flicker of confusion in his eyes as my words start to take hold. The magic is subtle at first, just a gentle nudge in his mind that makes him more susceptible to my influence.

“I understand,” I say, my voice honeyed and soothing. “But you know, sometimes it’s important to take a step back and think about what really matters. Like your family, perhaps? Your children?”

He blinks, the anger in his expression faltering for just a moment. “I—what?”

I glance down at his customer file, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. With each keystroke, I begin to rewrite his reality. “It says here that you’re the proud mother of two beautiful children. Is that right?”

His face goes pale as the words hit him like a ton of bricks. “No, that’s not—” he stammers, but I cut him off.

“Of course, being a stay-at-home mom can be incredibly challenging, but also rewarding, don’t you think?” I type quickly, adding in details to his file that correspond with the changes happening to him in real-time.

As I hit ‘Enter,’ I watch with delight as his body starts to soften, the sharp angles of his face rounding into a more delicate shape. His once broad shoulders narrow, his expensive suit shrinking and transforming into a comfortable, floral-patterned blouse. He gasps, his hands flying to his chest as he feels the beginnings of his new breasts pushing against the fabric.

“What…what are you doing to me?” His voice, now higher-pitched and trembling with fear, is music to my ears.

“I’m just helping you see the truth, dear,” I reply smoothly, my eyes twinkling with mischief. “You’ve always been such a nurturing person, haven’t you? Taking care of your little ones, making sure the house is in order. It’s what you were born to do.”

I continue typing, each word cementing his transformation. His hair, once thinning and gray, darkens and cascades down his shoulders in soft waves. The wrinkles on his face smooth out as years of stress and worry melt away, replaced by a youthful glow. His hands, now slender and graceful, clutch at his chest as his breasts swell, becoming full and heavy with the promise of milk. I give him—no, her—a memory of nursing her babies, the warmth of their tiny bodies pressed against her, the sweet ache of fullness in her breasts as they latch on.

“You love breastfeeding, don’t you?” I murmur, almost to myself as I watch the memory take root in her mind. “The bond it creates, the way it nourishes your children, the sense of purpose it gives you…”

She nods slowly, her eyes glassy with acceptance. “Yes…I do…” she whispers, her voice now completely feminine, soft and nurturing.

I feel a thrill of satisfaction as I see her stomach begin to swell, the flat expanse of her abdomen rounding into the unmistakable curve of pregnancy. She places a hand on her belly, a look of awe and love spreading across her face as she feels the life growing inside her. “And it looks like you’re going to have another little one soon,” I add, my tone almost teasing. “Congratulations, Mommy.”

Tears of joy well up in her eyes as she cradles her belly, completely absorbed in the new reality I’ve created for her. “Thank you…thank you so much…” she breathes, her voice trembling with emotion.

I sit back in my chair, thoroughly pleased with my work. The once obnoxious businessman is now a sweet, loving mother-to-be, her mind filled with thoughts of her children and the joy of motherhood. I can tell she’s already forgotten all about the frustrations that brought her to call in the first place.

But I’m not quite done yet.

“Now, let’s talk about what’s really important,” I say, my tone shifting to one of gentle authority. “You’ve been so busy taking care of everyone else, but you need to take care of yourself too. It’s okay to ask for help when you need it. Your husband is more than happy to support you, isn’t he?”

As I type out the final details in her file, I watch as the last vestiges of her former self fade away. Her posture relaxes, her demeanor softens, and a look of contentment settles on her face. She is no longer the demanding, angry caller who had berated me just moments ago. She is now a woman who understands the importance of love, family, and self-care.

“Thank you for reminding me,” she says, her voice filled with gratitude. “I’ll make sure to take it easy and focus on my family.”

“Of course,” I reply with a warm smile. “And remember, TechNet Solutions is always here to help. Have a wonderful day, and best of luck with the new baby!”

As the call disconnects, I let out a satisfied sigh. There’s something deeply satisfying about reshaping reality, especially when it involves turning a brutish man into a nurturing mother. I lean back in my chair, twirling a lock of my hair around my finger as I think about who else might benefit from a little…adjustment.

Perhaps my next caller will be a stubborn CEO who could use a lesson in humility. Or maybe a politician with too much power and not enough empathy. The possibilities are endless, and the thought of all the potential transformations makes me giddy with excitement.

But for now, I’ll enjoy the quiet satisfaction of a job well done. I may not need this job, but I do enjoy it. My coworkers are delightful, and there’s something to be said for having an outlet for my magical talents. After all, even a witch needs a little fun now and then.

And as for the new mommy I just created? I have no doubt she’ll live a very fulfilling life, full of love, laughter, and the occasional sleepless night. But that’s the beauty of motherhood, isn’t it? It’s messy and chaotic, but it’s also beautiful and rewarding in ways that nothing else can match.

As I return to the mundane tasks of my day, a wicked smile plays on my lips. There’s always someone else who could use a little transformation. And who better to give it to them than me?