“John,” whispered Sam. “You awake? I found something.”
“What is it? You know they don’t like us to talk after lights out.”
Sam bounded over to John’s bed, his still-growing breasts bouncing. He clutched a tattered book to his chest. “Look at this. It was under the floorboard.”
John squinted in the dim light. “A book on witchcraft? You and I were studying to be priests. That’s... that’s against everything—”
“I know what we were taught. But our prayers haven’t been answered. We’re still here, being changed into...into women.”
“We are not being changed into women!” John hissed. “There are only men and women. And we are men, no matter what they do to our bodies.”
Sam rolled his eyes, reached forward, and cupped John’s breasts.
“H-Hey!” he recoiled.
“For not being a girl, you sure seem to have a problem with someone touching your tits.”
John flushed. “It’s just... unnatural.”
Sam sighed, flipping through the book. “What if we’ve been praying to the wrong god?”
He crossed his arms over his breasts. “We were raised to be Christian.”
“We were also raised to be men. Look at us now. We have to do whatever it takes to get out of here.”
John hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Okay. What does the book say we need to do?”
Sam’s eyes gleamed with fear and excitement as he turned the pages. “We need to appeal to the goddess. It says she favors those who are in transition, those who are between states.”
“Between states...” John echoed as he looked down at his body. He’d never been particularly muscular, but now his arms were slender, his waist narrow, hips wide. If he saw someone shaped like this on the street, he’d think they were a woman, no question. “What kind of appeal?”
Sam held up his hands, palms facing John. “We press our palms together, like this, and we say an incantation.”
John took a deep breath and placed his hands against Sam’s. 
“I read this in the book,” Sam whispered. “Repeat after me: ‘Oh goddess, in your boundless grace, hear the plea of your daughters.”
“Daughters? Sam, I—”
“Just say it. ‘Goddess, Grant us the strength to break free from the chains that bind us. I offer up my manhood, though little there may be left, as a testament to my faith in your power. Guide us from this place of despair to freedom.’”
John had to choke out the words, feeling a lump in his throat as he spoke.
“It’s done,” Sam whispered. The room was silent, the only sound their uneven breaths.
They fell asleep in the same bed, the book tucked safely under Sam’s pillow, curled together for warmth in the chilly room.
They woke to a helicopter overhead and police sirens in the distance.