-- --

Wait, what?

You could have sworn you had just lied down to sleep, and now suddenly you’re at school. Oh god, did you forget something?  Is this like those nightmares where you accidentally show up at school without your pants on?

No, everything seems normal, as your pat yourself down  Jeans, Chuck Taylor shoes, cute camisole, cardig-

WAIT ARE THOSE BOOBS?

A hand hesitantly makes it up to your chest, after you notice nobody else in the room.  A small poke proves your fears or…hopes (?) right, as these are indeed breasts.  And they weren’t small either - I mean, any size boobs would be big compared to before, but you could swear these are larger than most.  As you continue to look down, it hits you that said breasts are creating fairly massive cleavage.  Nothing too egregious that the teachers would take note, but from this angle?

Your eyes further wander, and you notice that said hands that are exploring your chest are somewhat small and delicate.  On the nails is a really cute shade of purple nail polish.  Wait, that’s your hand?  Did you just catch yourself calling your nails cute?

It then hits you immediately.  Painted nails?  Boobs? Skinny jeans?  You didn’t want to risk someone walking in on you doing something weird, but a cursory pat down of your midsection reveals a flat area between your hips.  You’d have to check it out later but all signs are pointing to you being a girl right now.

Why isn’t that the worst news you’ve received so far?

Oh shit, you realize. if I’m alone in this classroom, you muse, class must be over.  From the looks of it, you’re in Mrs. Villalobos’s room, meaning sixth period is coming up next.  You hurriedly gather your things into your pink backpack, and rush out the door, and over to your locker, which you hope is the same as it was before.  As you run through the hallway, aside from all the weird looks kids were giving you, you couldn’t help but feel your boobs bounce up and down while you ran.  You knew you were wearing a bra of some kind, but it could only do so much to constrain your chest as you rushed through the halls.

Eventually, slightly out of breath, you make it back to your locker.  Surprisingly most things there are near identical to how they were before, aside from the pink mirror on the inside of your locker door.  Screw being on time, you decide, you need to get a look at yourself. After filling your backpack with next class’s textbook and checking the time on your watch, you glance up at said locker mirror.

The girl who meets you is a petite little thing.  It seems your large chest has translated to other parts of your body, as your cheeks are even more full than they usually are.  Reddish-brown hair comes down in waves over your face, and you find yourself with smooth skin - not only free of acne, but with far more freckles then you ever had before.  You turn, pointing one cheek at the mirror, revealing what in retrospect should be an obvious lack of facial hair, but the fact still catches you off guard.  Again, you feel like you should be terrified at these recent developments, but you can’t pull yourself away from looking at your new(ish) face in the mirror.

“Hey Stephanie!”

You’re interrupted though, as a girl whom you recognize as your best friend, Lizzie shows up.  It frankly scares you a bit as you didn’t expe- wait did she call you Stephanie?  Isn’t your name Steven?

Isn’t it?

“Hello, earth to Stephanie, you there, girl?”

“Oh uh…yeah” you reflexively respond.  My voice, it’s…pretty.  I sound pretty.  I look pretty - wait, what am I thinking?

“You gonna come to class or not?”

“Uh…yeah, just give me a sec”  you hear that voice again.  It sounds so soft and melodic.  You lock up your locker, and make your way to class with Lizzie. You’re usually about a head taller than her, but you’re currently about eye level with her, if not a bit shorter. For whatever reason, being made to feel small doesn’t actually feel bad.  You actually feel cute. 

After all, you are a girl.  Girls are allowed to be cute, right?

As you round the corner, it hits you though.

You REALLY need to pee.

You tell Lizzie you’ll meet her in class, and you hug each other before hopping into the girl’s bathroom.  Hugging Lizzie felt really weird, with the flesh on your and her chest squishing together, though it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling - if anything, you liked it.  You also note a feeling of excitement at going into the girls bathroom.  Again, you’re a girl, so it shouldn’t bother you too much, but something about being here makes you feel really fulfilled in some way.  You make your way to the empty handicapped stall, where after closing the door, you hang your backpack up on the hook behind the door, and unbutton your pants and underwear and slide them down as you instinctively sit down on the toilet, and hear the sound of rushing water come out.

Two things immediately stick out to you as you finish using the toilet. One - you’re wearing panties.  They’re white, with small accents of lavender and periwinkle blue, and you realize you’d been wearing them until just now.  They were really cute, and you couldn’t help but imagine how cute your butt must have looked int them - too bad you can’t check it out in the bathroom here. 

Secondly is your body itself. With the bottom of half of your body more or less naked, you finally get a good look at your most striking new body part - your vagina.  Again, most guys would be horrified to see their dicks missing, but you’re not a guy right now, are you?   Honestly, you can only barely see your vagina - it hits you that it sits lower on your body than you expected, directly between your legs rather than front-facing like your previous body was.  The effect then is basically a flat, empty, slightly bumpy extension of your midsection, culminating in a small slit. 

After wiping yourself off, you flush, and make your way out to the mirror and sink to wash your hands.  As you do, you see your reflection again, and it hits you that you’re wearing makeup.  Specifically, your eyeliner is pretty noticeable as is the mascara, giving your eyes an almost enchanted look.  Drying your hands off you can’t help but think about your new body.  It should be foreign, but it honestly feels really good.  It’s small, soft, short, and everything you thought you’d hate, you actually love, once you let yourself do so.  Feeling soft, squishy boobs on your chest feels great.  Being in a space meant for girls feels great.  Not having that weird thing dangling between your legs anymore feels great. 

Putting your backpack back on, you start skipping through the hallway, as the warning bell hits.  There’s a hell of a lot of questions left to answer, but one that you know you don’t need to answer right now is how you feel, which is currently on cloud nine.

— —

BZZT BZZT BZZT

SLAM

God I hate mornings.  I hit the snooze button, lazily rolling out of bed, waiting for my feet hit the floor.  When they do, I slowly open my eyes, looking down at my feet. As I do, my mom shouts:

“Steven, come on down for breakfast!”

Steven?

Oh god.

The sight that greets me immediately sends me into recoil.  My legs are hairy.  My feet are large and gross and ogre-like. My chest is flat and chiseled.  This isn’t any different than yesterday, but why is this-

And then it hits me.  The dream.  That was all a dream, wasn’t it?  Where I was a girl, with cute makeup and boobs and a bunch of freckles?

My mind is so worried, that I don’t notice myself starting to cry.  It starts out with a few tears, before I end up in full on sobs, crying into my pillow as to not alert my mom.  I was happy in that dream.  I thought I knew what happiness was, but the feeling from that dream?  Compared to my real life, it felt like nirvana.  It felt perfect.  It felt more real than things did right now.  That’s how I’m supposed to feel.

But I’m not.  I keep pinching my arm to ‘wake myself up’, but things aren’t changing.

I’m not waking up. 

This is real life.

And it feels like a fucking nightmare.