Tales From The Frog-lady 3: What Is A Woman Worth? free porn video

Tales from the Frog-lady 3: What is a woman worth? by Sylvia Wechsel [Note 1] - As usual, I am no English-speaking native so I do mistakes, I write my stories in English for your amusement, so be kind in your reviews and if you find grammatical errors or misspellings, please repport them to me. [Note 2] - In the past I tried to place my stories in a neutral environment, without specifying in which country it occurs, then, by the reviews, I noticed some readers thought I was talking about the United States. I have no experience in living in the USA, other than a few weeks in visits, so I cannot write about the American society. Therefore I decided not to be neutral, this story is placed in Brazil, even though it is written in English. There will be further Notes after the story, where I will explain some references about my country, to those who don't know. [Note 3] - The title could be interpreted as a sexist statement. It is not. It is a question the Frog-lady asks to the main character. In fact, if I were to answer that, this answer would be: "Quite high, indeed." Have fun! --------------- I must confess I was a chauvinistic pig. Not that I disliked women in general. I loved my mother and my sisters, of course, and I surely treated very well all my previous girlfriends, who had, so far as I know, no complaints against me. What bothered me was that some women, in my opinion, were too self-conscious. Especially those who insisted in occupying traditional male jobs, like lawyers, physicians and, of course, businesswomen. Once I was celebrating a happy hour with some friends at a pub close to my practice. I was a successful plastic surgeon and used to meet friends every Friday evening, after the last appointment with patients. That night I was flirting with a beautiful blond girl, who sat in an "all women." table neighbor to ours. They were probably secretaries or perhaps lawyers, workers of a local law firm, having themselves their own happy hour. The girl not even dismissed my attempts, but also did it with despise, laughing. I felt hurt and humiliated. I was not ugly, in fact, I was considered handsome by most women and she could surely notice that I was not poor, so I didn't deserve being treated like that. I remember I made some nasty, sexist, comment. I believe I called her a lesbian or something like this. The pub was, however, a noisy environment and the girl didn't hear it. An ugly old lady, who was sitting alone in a table close to me, however, did hear it. God, that lady was ugly! Her face reminded me of some nasty animal, perhaps a frog. I could see from the look she gave me, that she heard, and didn't like, what I said. I immediately regretted saying those words. I was a jerk, but not that kind of jerk. The words were a consequence of my hurt pride and not what I really thought. Soon, however, I forgot all this and resumed having fun with my friends. That night I had a strange dream. It was strange not because of what happened in the dream (after all, dreams are weird by nature), but because it was very vivid and because I can remember every single word that was said, even today. It is sort of "branded" in fire in my brain. I was talking to the ugly lady from the pub and she wanted to know whether I really meant what I said there. I explained her I said that out of a hurt pride (the strange thing about dreams is that we do not need to lie). In the course of my answer I let, however, my misogynistic views about working women surface. The Frog-lady said she was satisfied with my answer about the pub, but she believed my prejudices required some scrutiny. Then she asked me, "In your opinion, what is a woman worth?" Then I started a lengthy answer, "If I were a complete jerk, I would say a woman is worth for sex, but I am not that stupid-" Then I continued, "I could also say a woman is worth as a good wife, but this is not fair, I really don't believe it is a woman's function to be her husband's slave." "No, what I really believe is that a woman is worth as a mother." Then the Frog-lady asked, "Do you really believe every woman should be a mother?" "Provided the woman is healthy, sure, every woman should be able to get pregnant and deliver a child in, let us say, in 18 months at top," I answered. My answer was not groundless, although I was then a plastic surgeon, I had my classes on human reproduction in the university and so I really believe my answer had some scientific basis. The Frog-lady, then, said, "Granted, you have 18 months to meet me in this park...." At this point the formless white background of my dream morphed into a particular spot of a local park I knew too well, and the lady continued... "... and you will show me that you had in this period a successful pregnancy." "If you fail to get pregnant, or if you are still pregnant when we meet, you will remain as a woman forever." "If you succeed, however, you will be allowed to return to your life, only carrying your memories of this experience." And then she completed, putting an end to the dream, "You may go now." When I woke up next morning, before opening my eyes, I thought, "Where do our brain get material for such crazy dreams?" Getting pregnant? How was this possible? I was a man! Soon, however, I felt something was not quite right. The mattress didn't feel the same as I remembered, too soft. I opened my eyes and couldn't recognize where I was. I sat in the bed and realized I was wearing a light pajama with a color which seemed "salmon" to me. Two protrusions in my shirt were visible, I inspected them and realized they were generous breasts. I inspected further down and found out my penis was gone and in the place I had female exterior genitals. My reason told me I should be in panic, hyperventilating, but I was in fact strangely calm, not even my heartbeat was accelerated. I was watching everything with the same passion of a scientist looking at some lab rat experiment. After some time I decided I needed to pee. I entered the next room, which was the kitchen, and found the toilet door at the other side. Without a second thought, I lowered my pants, sat in the vase and relieved myself. As I returned to the sleeping room, which obviously served as a living room as well, I saw a note placed over a small table. I could swear that note wasn't there when I went to the toilette. As with the dream, I still remember the contents of that note. "Your name is Rita de C?ssia, also called Ritinha by your friends, and your age is 19. You moved two years ago from another city in the countryside to this place, after your last surviving parent died. You have no close relatives to resort to. You are not rich, you work by day in a shop, selling female clothes, and by night you attend the public high school, in the third year of the secondary grade. We are in September, so you are only three months away from graduation. You receive a small salary, which is enough to pay for the rent of this house and buy food, and a small commission (6%) for each piece you sell in the shop, which you use for the other expenses, especially leisure: mostly buying clothes, going to the beauty saloon and going out at night. To reach your aim you will need this money, so I recommend you work hard at the shop and specially, don't get fired. You are not a bad person, you are only misguided, so I decided to make things easier for you. You will perceive that you no longer feel like a man. You still remember that you are a man in a woman's body, but this doesn't bother you. This way you will be able to do what you need to do without prejudices. If you need some information about Rita's former life you simple need to think about this and you will be rewarded by some of her memories. Use this with care, some people find these living memories quite disturbing. In eighteen months from now we will meet at that spot at the park. As you affirmed yourself, you need to have a successful pregnancy during this period. If you fail to get pregnant, or if you are still pregnant at that moment, you will remain as Rita forever. If you succeed you will be allowed to return to your life, only carrying the memories of these experiences. You are perfectly healthy now, so getting pregnant is up to you. However, pay attention: you must get pregnant by natural means and your labor must be natural as well, any form of artificial means invalidates our agreement and you will remain as Rita forever. If you abort your child by improper care (I will protect you from natural accidents), such that you cannot meet the deadline, you will also remain as Rita. Expect a harsh punishment if you try to cheat on me. Have a good life, L." After I finished reading the note, it burned in a bright yellow fire, such that nothing remained, not even ashes. That was it, due to my big mouth I was trapped in the body of a young girl and had to get pregnant. Suddenly the 18 months deadline I set myself seemed insufficient. I immediately regretted my big mouth. This meant I had to find a man to impregnate me in 9 months or I would not succeed. It was strange thinking about this in such a casual way. As the lady wrote in the note, this did not bother me, but this did not mean I was happy with the situation either. After some time I decided it was time to take some action. It was a sunny Saturday morning, so I decided I should go out for a walk, to explore my neighborhood. I took a shower, dressed myself in light clothes (jeans miniskirt, t-shirt and tennis shoes), took a small purse which was over the table, it contained my keys, a bank card, and some money. Skillfully I tied my long curly hair in a ponytail (this had nothing to do with being turned into a girl, as a man I used long hairs, which I, sometimes, tied in a ponytail, just using a conventional rubber band, of course) and left my new house. I knew that part of the city. It was a typical lower middle class suburb. I saw I lived close to the major local avenue and decided to walk towards city center. The avenue ended in a larger avenue, a local commercial center. I recognized a four stars hotel, a large hypermarket of a famous chain, and the entrance of the campus of a private university I knew, but never visited before. An announcement in front of the hotel called for a music show that evening, at the hotel bar. A plan started to form in my wicked mind, if all went right, I would start to work on my "problem." that same evening. I went back to my house. On the way I stopped at the ATM of the bank corresponding to Rita's bank card I found in the purse. I checked the account. I carefully used one of Rita's memories to discover her PIN, it was weird, seeing my hand typing the number in the terminal, sharing her thoughts, but it was not as disturbing as the Frog-lady said. It was not much money, but there was enough to do what I was planning for that night. I withdrew a sufficient amount of money. Next I stopped at a beauty saloon. I scheduled manicure, pedicure and some work in my hairs for that afternoon and went home to cook my lunch. When time was right I put the silk stockings and dressed myself in the best tube dress I found in Rita's closet. I used another of Rita's memories to do my makeup, again this was weird, but not disturbing. Next I searched her drawers and found accessories, I selected a set of collar, bracelets and earrings, obviously cheap stuff, but at least fancy enough and would make a good effect in contrast with my light brown skin. I found also a matching purse I would use. Again, this sense of aesthetics had nothing to do with being turned into a girl, as a plastic surgeon I developed some sense for that and, so, fashion was not strange to myself. Finally I put her best high heel shoes and left my home towards the hotel. It was difficult walking in the irregular walkways using those heels, but I managed to reach my destination unharmed. As I entered in the hotel bar, the receptionist told me I would pay a fee, the "couvert," because of the music show. I was investing anyway, so the fee was not a problem. I didn't occupy a table and went directly to the balcony and sat on a bench, crossing my legs, showing them for everyone to see. I asked the bartender for a beer, I had no idea about Rita's resistance to alcohol, so I decided to go very slow with it. My plan worked perfectly, 15 minutes after I sat, a well dressed man sat at my side and started a conversation with me. After a good dose of small talk, the man suggested I should sneak out of the bar and meet him in front of his apartment. I payed my bill, left the bar, entered in the ladies room, and sometime later I could sneak in direction of the elevators. I went to the floor and room number he gave me and some minutes later the man met me at the door. We kissed and entered the room. I quickly took out my dress and was about to untie my bra when I noticed he was taking out a condom packet out of his wallet. If he used a condom, I would simply get screwed without the possibility of getting pregnant. I said, "What you are doing, I don't like to use protection!" "Are you crazy? I would never fuck a slut like you without protection!" said the man, looking angry at me, then he completed, "Get out of here, I lost the mood!" I was deeply humiliated and ashamed. The guy thought I was a whore, of that kind that goes chasing for customers in hotel bars. I dressed myself again and was about to leave the room, when he said, handing me a twenty "Reais." bill, "Here, take this for your time." Hurt and angry, I dismissed that, saying, "I did not come here for this!" and left the room, shutting the door with a slam. On the way back home I had to control myself not to cry. I felt angry, humiliated, but with the time I calmed down and noticed I did really behave like a slut in the hotel bar. If I was behaving like a whore, I would be treated like one. I thought of preparing a set of condoms to break, but remembered the warning of the Frog-lady, this would surely count as an artificial method of insemination. No this was not a solution to my problem. If I wanted to get pregnant very fast, I needed to find a class of men who would happily fuck a lady without even thinking about consequences and protection. Suddenly, the answer came to me: teenagers! I cursed my own stupidity. I was attending the high school! I surely would find someone there to have sex with me. If I thought about that first I would spare the humiliation, as well as all the money I wasted in that hotel bar. I was planning to rest on Sunday, but an intuition (maybe the famous female one) told me to verify Rita's clothes. I found a large pile of dirty laundry to wash and so I spent the whole Sunday washing. It was a sunny day, so the clothes dried very fast and I did the ironing at night. At least the house was clean so I decided to work only in the bathroom, postponing the complete cleaning to the next weekend. Late that night I decided to use one of Rita's memories to discover what I was supposed to do next morning. I was rewarded with a memory which spanned a whole working day, from waking up very early, working the whole day at the shop, leaving for the school and arriving late evening at home. I still didn't find it "disturbing," but this one was surely uncomfortable. The memory felt like spanning 10 to 11 hours, but in the "normal world" it took something like 30 seconds, which was good, since I held my breath during the entire time. It was evident that I could choke if the memory referred to a longer period. After this experience I treated this "tool" with more respect. The work in the shop was not that difficult. I discovered that selling jeans trousers to overweighted ladies was not that different than convincing a perfectly healthy woman that she desperately needed breast implants or a nose job. The "memory" alerted me that there was no time to return home after work, so I stuffed more casual clothes in my bag, After work I dressed in them, folded carefully my "working" clothes and placed them back in the bag. I was using some light makeup, so I just needed to fix it. After that I walked directly to school, which, by the way, was located in that large avenue, at the commercial center, close to the University campus. I inspected my colleagues in the classroom and selected a "target," who looked sufficiently empty headed not to discard the offer of sex from a young girl like me. The name of my "prey" was Ant?nio. At the interval between lectures I approached him and he, as expected, started a conversation. Few days after we were already kissing in hidden places. Despite of what I thought about the propensity young people had to have sex, it was quite difficult to convince Ant?nio to arrange some excuse so we could be together alone. The opportunity came about two weeks after the day I woke up as a girl, on a Friday. The excuse was studying for a test we would attend the next Monday. As soon as we were alone in his bedroom, we began undressing. Soon we were both naked and I laid myself in his bed. He was already rock hard. He approached his penis from my vagina and pressed. Then I felt something I was not expecting: pain. It looked like I was being ripped apart in the middle. My face must have looked awful, and I could not suppress a brief cry. Ant?nio asked, "Do you want me to stop?" I considered this, the pain was surely unpleasant, but I was so close to my objective. Then I begged him, "No, don't stop, continue!" Then he pressed harder and penetrated me. I lost my breath for some seconds, while he started to to-and-fro movement inside me. It didn't take too long and he came, before I could even feel aroused. After we finished I went out of bed and realized I was bleeding, afraid I said, "You did hurt me!" His answer, however, was, "My bedsheets, they are stained, my mother will kill me!" He had no empathy for my suffering, but what I was expecting? He was an empty headed teenager! After I calmed down I realized what happened. I was bleeding because my hymen broke. Rita was a virgin, that is, I had been deflowered. As Ant?nio realized this he was pleased, I knew pretty well that men loved to deflower women. I dressed myself and went out of his home, I was in no mood for studying anymore. I finally got what I wanted, but, unfortunately fate intervened and, instead of getting pregnant, I menstruated that weekend. That meant I would need to go through that ordeal again and again until I succeeded. Next Monday, as I entered the School's gate, still wearing my sanitary pad. I noticed everybody was looking at me. In some cases they, especially the girls, were whispering to each other, laughing. Finally someone approached, it was Renata, one of the few friends Rita (that is, me) had in that school, she asked, "What are you doing here? I didn't think you would come today!" "Why? What happened?" I asked. Looking surprised she said, "Oh! You didn't watch!" Than she handed me her tablet, after typing an address in a popular movie sharing site. The "original" title of the movie was "Doing a virgin." First I didn't recognize. It was an amateur "porn" movie, a sex scene between a young couple, very badly filmed. I only discovered what it was when I heard my own voice complaining about the pain, and then pleading to Ant?nio to continue fucking me. The bastard filmed our experience and posted in the internet! I vaguely remembered his computer, equipped with a webcam, was on that day, but it never went through my mind he would film us. The worst was that it was on-line, hence it would never disappear and was probably distributed worldwide. I felt a mixture of shame, humiliation and anger. My face went red and I ran out the school. I couldn't face anyone that day. I began crying and had to sit in a bench at a bus stop. I was still angry, but I was crying because I realized that door was closed to me. I remembered my youth days and knew teenage boys valued only two things in teenage girls: either virginity or experience. As that film sadly proved, I was neither experienced, and surely, nor a virgin anymore. I would never accept to have sex with Ant?nio again (I had my pride after all) and surely no other boy in my school would approach me after that. I was lost in these thoughts when I heard, "Miss, are you feeling well?" I looked and saw it was an older guy (that is, older than Rita), he looked in the thirties, used thick glasses and was half bald. I said, "I'm OK, thanks for asking," I answered, still with tears in my eyes. "What happened?" he asked. Then I noticed he had one of these fancy smartphones, I asked, "Does your phone play videos from the internet?" He said yes and then I gave the directions so he could find Ant?nio's film. He typed something in his phone and soon I heard the familiar dialogue of my shame. He watched the entire video with a serious face and after it ended, I asked with sarcasm, "So, does it deserve the Oscar?" He kept silent for a while and then he said, "What I saw was an unexperienced couple having sex for the first time." This surprised me. I knew I was unexperienced, OK, but he was implying that Ant?nio was also unexperienced. I asked why he thought that and he said no experienced male would do such a clumsy job in teasing a woman for sex and that this showed that Ant?nio was very nervous, perhaps more nervous than me. This made sense only if he was a virgin too. This gave me an idea on how to exert revenge over Ant?nio. Next day I spread the gossip in the school that the boy was virgin before having sex with me and that, by the way, his penis was too small. Returning to the bus stop. I learned that the man was Marcos and that he had just been hired as professor in that University. He was 35 years old and was a bachelor. He offered to drive me home and my first tendency was dismissing the offer, but thanks God, before doing that, I realized the nonsense of what I was doing. Marcos was a man, which meant that he had a penis, and could very well impregnate me. I decided to use him for my "project." I just felt (perhaps it was the famous female intuition, again) that he was attracted to women in distress and that I could play him using his "hero complex," but I should be careful. I sensed also that if I pushed too hard, I would scare him. In the next days he began visiting me at the job and driving me to school. Some time later he began inviting me to dinners, first at restaurants, but after some time he invited me to his house. Going to bed with him was another hard work. Clearly he was too shy and I had to wait until he made the move. If I was too hasty I would scare him. It took a couple of beers more than he was used to, so that he asked me if I didn't want to sleep with him. Even being shy, he was more experienced than Ant?nio. He kissed, me, licked my nipples, inserted fingers in my pussy and rubbed my clitoris, such that, when he inserted his penis inside me, I was well lubricated and didn't feel the same pain as in the first time. On the contrary, I felt pleasure and since he took longer to cum, I finally got my orgasm. A bonus of getting him drunk, was that he made no attempt to use protection for sex, but after he came inside me, he looked worried. I had to lie to him, assuring I was "on the pill," so he could relax, I would not get pregnant. Next day I went to the local health station and took a package of the freely distributed contraceptive pills, and made sure Marcos saw that I had them. I took one pill every day, as instructed, and flushed down the toilette. I was sure that using NO contraceptive measurement was not a form of artificial insemination, so I was safe about the deal wit the Frog-lady. After that first day we began having sex in a regular basis (meaning, Friday and Saturday, sometimes even Sundays). I felt Marcos' relief for the fact that he could have "safe" sex with me without using condoms. I knew from my own experience as a male that most men don't like using condoms, since the sensitivity get lost. Every Friday morning I bought a pregnancy test (in a different pharmacy each time) and frustrated, I watched the months passing by while I got negative results. It was already three months since that day I woke up as a girl and I menstruated two times more. I could not believe getting pregnant was so difficult. Then my graduation day came. For me this meant I had my last day at school. My grades were good, so I had not to worry about taking extra tests. My colleagues would attend the graduation ball, but I decided not to join. I had no money for that, and I refused Marcos' offer to pay it for me. By that time I knew he was not rich. He had a higher salary than me (that is, Rita), but could not afford all that expense. Instead of the ball, I asked him to bring me to one of these fancy suites with Jacuzzi in a Motel and we made sex twice, staying there for the night, until breakfast time. I was in a good mood that day and was enjoying being together with Marcos. He is a good guy and was, at least, a good friend to me. So that day, having sex with him didn't feel like an obligation. Perhaps this made the difference. One week later, as I did the pregnancy test, I finally got a positive result. It was 3,5 months after the start of the 18 months deadline, I would need nine months more for the pregnancy and this would leave me with sufficient time to fulfill the Frog-lady's condition. So I would get my manhood back. My first thought was of taking care of the pregnancy myself, abandoning Marcos. Then I remembered what the Frog-lady said about having an abortion due to careless actions. I would need medical follow up and a place in a maternity. Poor as I was, I would have to resort to the public health care and I knew this was like a Russian roulette, it would surely count as a careless action. Marcos was a university professor and that university maintained a famous hospital. So l decided to tell him about the pregnancy. I faked worry and told a lie, saying I realized I was delayed with my menstruation and made the test just to be sure that I was not pregnant, having the positive result instead. Instead of being worried, I felt he was happy with the news. I asked what we would do and he said, "We need to marry, of course!" So we did it. I had no idea that marrying in Brazil is so difficult. Marcos had to pay a fee, publish an announcement, called a "proclama" and we had to wait one month, until we got permission to marry according to the law. While that Marcos had a friend at the hospital, who managed to "sneak me in.", as if we were already living together for five years (this counts in Brazil as fully equivalent to a formal wedding). It was a lie, but was made only so that we didn't have to wait a full month before the first appointment with the obstetrician. My first appointment was another humiliation for me. Fact is that Rita never visited a gynecologist in her entire life (I checked this using one of her memories, and there was none). So I had to do the standard tests and hear the physician's speech on "how important it is that a girl takes care of her health," blaming me for being careless. I could tell it was Rita's responsibility to do that, but she was poor and I had already been transformed into a girl for four months and didn't think of looking myself for a gynecologist (and I was a plastic surgeon!) during all this time. After marriage I moved to his house and so, I quit the rental contract of my apartment. Since I didn't need to pay the rental anymore, I decided to quit the job, taking care of my pregnancy at home instead. This was the argument I used to convince Marcos, but in fact I was tired of working in the shop and though it would be nice staying at home without doing anything the whole day. First day, indeed, was very nice. I watched television all day and had only to take care of cooking. From the second day on, however, I began feeling bored with that situation. Surely watching old episodes of "Desperate Housewives" didn't help. So I spent my days, cleaning the house, washing clothes, cooking and began going everyday to the local supermarket, only to get out of home for a couple of hours. So the months passed by. My routine included a visit to the doctor every 15 days. I was measured, weighted and received the recommendation not to eat that much, since I was gaining some kilograms extra every new appointment. During that period me and Marcos kept maintaining our sex life in the same pace as before. I did feel he was in love me, I, on the other hand, had only sympathy for him. I couldn't call that love. The pregnancy was followed by some annoyances. First, as I already told, I was eating too much, but there was also a constant pain in my hip bones, which I knew was caused by the fact that they were opening for the passage of the baby. There were also nice feelings. The first ultrasound image, for example, was amazing. Watching that tiny heartbeat inside my uterus was fascinating. Later, as the baby started to kick, I felt the strange sensation linked with having a live being inside me. As the childbirth approached, my belly was so large that I could only have sex with Marcos with him taking me from behind. I noticed he enjoyed that position very much. Childbirth started with a scary situation. I went to the toilette to pee (which was a constant event at that time) and as I cleaned my pussy I noticed that I was slightly bleeding. This was late in the evening and I got in panic, thinking I was going to loose the baby. Marcos calmed me down and brought me to the hospital. The physician confirmed that labor was beginning. I entered the hospital that day and 72 hours later, my baby was born. As I already knew, it is a boy and his name is Felipe, the name of Marcos father. The childbirth was painful and I silently cursed myself for the words I spoke in that strange dream. Surely having a baby is not as simple as I thought. As the baby left my body, with Marcos at my side, I felt relief at first, but after that I got worried, because I was not hearing his cry. A couple of seconds later I heard it. My baby was healthy and safe. That evening I breast fed Felipe for the first time. After Felipe was born, we stopped our sex life. I was not in the mood. I knew this was expected, so I didn't need to give too much explanation. I kept feeding Felipe with my milk and watched him growing and interacting. Marcos helped me with the tasks, like diaper changes, so it was not all on me. He is a good father. As the 18 months deadline approached, I got increasingly worried. I wanted my manhood back, I deserved it, according to my agreement with the Frog-lady, but, in order to do so, I needed to abandon Felipe and, why not, Marcos. Luckily I still had almost three months to get used to the idea. One week before my appointment with the Frog-lady Marcos would depart for a ten days period to attend some conference in Europe. One of Marco's sisters would come to sleep with me when he was away. I realized this would be the last time I would ever see him and felt sad. Anyway, we lived together for almost an entire year, and, I must confess, I was fond of him. I decided, then to ask him for sex, the night before he left. Then the day I was long expecting finally came. After a quick hesitation, I left my house towards the park. I had no idea what would happen when I turned male again, I mean, if Rita would disappear, so I left a large assortment of my milk in the freezer and instructed my sister-in-law how to prepare it for Felipe, in case I would take too much to return home. When I arrived at the particular spot in the park it was already the scheduled time (I assumed this had also something to do with the Lady's magic). She was expecting me. One and a half year after we first met, she continued looking ugly to me. As I reached her, she said, "Did you learn something?" I should be angry at her, but I answered honestly, "Yes, I learned not to take women accomplishments for granted." "And how did you score according to your own standards?" "Funny! As a lover and as a wife I am a total disaster, but I thing I am a good mother." I tried to say that with irony, but, sadly I realized it was true. I was hardly a participant in bed and only in few occasions I did more of what I was expected to do in sex, one of the few exceptions had been, for instance, the experience in the previous week. As a wife I was a total denial, I hardly did my chores, and was not especially supportive to Marcos when we visited friends or in official occasions. As a mother, however, I was quite good. Not only I cared for my baby during the nine months of pregnancy, but also after that. I breast fed my son from day one and I loved him. The Frog-lady interrupted those thoughts saying, "Are you prepared to return to your own life?" "Yes, but first I want to know what will happen to Rita?" The Frog-lady smiled, it was a sympathy smile. Then she told me the transfer would occur only in the morning, when we woke up. I would wake up in my own bed, in the day after that dream. Rita would wake up in the present, with a young baby and a husband. She would be diagnosed with a minor stroke, to justify one and a half year o amnesia, but she would easily adapt. It is strange how powerful that witch is. Then I said, "I am ready." The Frog-lady concentrated, assumed a a self-satisfying look, which soon turned into a worried look. What she said next, made me shiver, "It is not working...." And then she looked surprised towards me and asked, "You are pregnant?" Pregnant, how was that possible? Then I remembered the sex experience from the previous week. I made the mistake many women do, I thought that since it had been so difficult to get pregnant for the first time, that I would be somehow protected. The Frog-lady continued, "So this settles the matter, you failed!" "Failed, but I got pregnant and delivered my baby in due time!" "You were told that you would continue to be a woman if you returned here pregnant!" she said, almost apologizing. "But this was not what was meant...." I said, but she interrupted... "There are no interpretations in magic, the rules are black or white, sorry, you failed." "Can't you return in another 18 months or so?" "Sorry, I am not allowed, go return to your child and your husband." And she disappeared before my eyes. No one of the presents in that park seemed to notice that extraordinary happening. So, I'm returning home. First I was angry, but now I am accepting the truth. Wasn't I having second thoughts about abandoning Marcos and Felipe? Perhaps, my own idea of having sex with Marcos last week, my own forgetfulness about the basic rules of human reproduction, were my own subconscious mind playing tricks to me. I don't know. I have to return home now and find a way to tell Marcos, when he calls me tonight, the "good news": we will need to administer a tighter budget. THE END Further notes (read this after the story, because it contains spoilers) [Note 4] - You see I gave more information about the Frog-lady. It is clear she is in a mission and that she is not all powerful. She also started to give more information about her true identity. If I am correct, she is not originally a woman, she is a man in disguise, a character from a non-greco-roman mythology, who is fleeing from a terrible punishment. [Note 5] - As I mentioned before, this story is placed in Brazil and refers to things which are typical from here, in particular the school system, the secondary grade Rita attends is approximately (but not exactly) equivalent to the American High School, the public heath system (unified health system, SUS) is described as playing Russian Roulette, because it is so, you may find either very good quality medical services (better than you find in the private health system) or a situation which reminds of slaughterhouses at random. I hope Obamacare will be better than this, when it finally kicks in. [Note 6] - In most stories here, when the main character is transformed into a girl, she will either not work, or work as prostitute or dancer. In my experience the great majority of young women I know are hard workers in traditional jobs, so Rita sells women clothes in a shop.