Day 7 - Thursday

Brooke awoke slowly, indulging in the fading memories of her dream for several moments before pushing herself towards true wakefulness. She wiggled and squirmed under her sheets, indulging in the wonderful softness that seemed to only grow more intense as she indulged. It was with an impressive show of self control that she pulled herself free, sitting up and stretching out her pleasantly sore muscles.

She wasn’t sure why they were sore, or if she ever would have previously identified any kind of soreness as pleasant, but she wasn’t complaining. Climbing out of bed made two things abundantly clear. First, her new arms had grown! They were a bit more than half as long as her natural arms, and had begun developing their own claws. Second, her chest had grown! She was already at the small side of average if she had to guess.

A part of her hoped they’d keep growing for a while yet, images of porn stars proudly presenting theirs flashing through her mind for a moment before she quashed them. A sense of twisted guilt bubbled up within her, a fear that she’d been somehow tainted by her time growing up as a guy. Just the fact he had a mental portfolio of busty women to imagine made her feel guilty, like she was somehow failing at womanhood.

She did her best to suppress the thoughts, focusing on the rest of her changes. Her claws looked amazing; each was like a beautifully cut amethyst containing a frozen cosmos bedecked in stars. Equal parts deadly and alluring, they seemed to bleed into her fingers and toes somewhat. Lines of amethyst spreading out from where the claw joined her digit, looking like crystal veins within her marble skin.

Speaking of her skin, she quickly discovered at least part of why it seemed so sensitive. As far as she could find, she was now entirely hairless from the neck down. Without those traces of colour, it was now abundantly clear just how pale white her skin had become. Looking in the mirror, she found herself feeling that white marble was an increasingly apt description. If she stood still long enough, she wondered if someone might mistake her for a statue? 

The other thing her body inspection had made clear was that she was apparently developing muscles? It was subtle, but compared to the complete lack she had before the changes began it was still hard to miss. A part of her worried that they wouldn’t fit with the feminine image she wanted to present, but she couldn’t deny how nice it felt to be strong, and how good they looked on her.

The most obvious change presented by the mirror was a new one. A pair of small, amethyst-like horns had pushed their way free of her forehead, not even half her pinkie in length and ending in rounded points. They were cute, but after seeing Sarah’s horns, she looked forward to having them grow in fully. That said, she did like the contrast between the dark, crystalline purple and her white skin. It seemed to be a running theme she was eager to see continue. Though she supposed the fact she liked it would be obvious given what she’d learned about how the changes worked.

A final inspection of her teeth showed that they had grown a bit sharper, her back teeth increasing in complexity as their enhanced hardness made smaller additions more viable. The fact her teeth also seemed to be darkening was mildly concerning, but she had to admit polished white teeth would probably have looked weird with her polished white skin.

Satisfied with her findings from the increasingly arduous morning inspection, she finally made her way to the shower, bringing with her the clothing Ms. Zwavel prepared the night before. She’d be going to school as a girl for the first time, and she was absolutely terrified. So, instead of thinking about that, she thought about the shower! Oh yes, a very interesting shower in which she focused on such complex tasks as washing her hair, and polishing her skin!

She also spent some time delighting in the fact she could look at her naked body without wanting to throw up or close her eyes, and that bought her quite a bit of time not thinking about how a school largely funded by a church was going to react to a trans girl. She even spent some time delighting in the fact her member was clearly smaller than before. She still didn’t like looking at it, but at least doing so to confirm it was going away was a lot nicer.

Unfortunately, she could only re-read the instructions and ingredients on every bottle in the shower so many times before she really did need to get out and get ready for school. Or maybe she didn’t? She could probably call in sick right?

She dried herself off as she contemplated the many benefits of running away and becoming a mountain hermit. She was a little stuck on the thought of moving to another state under a false name and living as a mysterious stranger as she got dressed, barely noting that the bra, once again, seemed to fit perfectly. 

It was as she was imagining the dramatic romance between herself and a down on her luck lesbian barista that she finally caught sight of herself fully dressed in the mirror. Her thoughts came to a screeching halt. A black, long sleeve shirt under a pastel green pinafore with a dark green belt, with black and dark green striped thigh highs. Her claws itched to cut back the skirt until it ended above her knees, but she held back, knowing the length was in accommodation of the dress code. 

It wasn’t a particularly complex outfit, and there were definitely details she’d change if not for the dress code… But it was so distinctly feminine that she couldn’t help but smile. She gave a little twirl in front of the mirror, the long skirt not able to rise nearly as much as its shorter cousins, but still she giggled at the effect. She’d always envied the girls. They had plenty of stupid details restricting how they dressed at school, but even their school proper outfits seemed a million times better than anything she’d been allowed to wear. She supposed she knew why now.

As she finished her second spin she stopped and took a moment to really… look. She was a girl. She was a bit tall for a girl maybe, and her face was still a bit masculine in certain details, but the person in the mirror was, undeniably, a girl. She had beautiful claws, and an extra set of arms, slightly dark teeth, and a pair of little horns. She was so clearly inhuman, yet all the same she was so clearly beautiful. 

An unfamiliar confidence bubbled up within her. She was beautiful. She was strong, and fast, and she looked great. Even as she imagined what she’d look like in her human form the feeling didn’t abate. Was that why Sarah always seemed so confident? Because she knew she was worth being confident for?

She found herself standing up straighter as she left the bathroom, grabbing her backpack and necklace from her room before moving downstairs for breakfast. Apparently the change was as obvious as it felt, and she was forced to endure a considerable amount of cooing and praise from Ms. Zwavel while she ate. Thankfully Sarah saved her from also enduring a car ride by insisting Brooke walk to school with her.

Double checking her charm, pill dispenser, and mundane school supplies were all accounted for, the two made their way out of the house. Sarah had already concealed her demonic features before they left the house, but Brooke resisted until they were almost on the main path, attempting to steal every moment in her true form she could.

Ms. Zwavel had been right that it wasn’t nearly as bad the second time, but it was still deeply unpleasant. Worse, it reminded her of the vague disgust she’d always had with her original body. Though the memory of having to deal with that did make the comparatively lesser discomfort of the human form a bit easier to handle. 

It took most of the walk to school for Brooke to regain her confidence. She knew she was still hot, and that she still loved her body, and that she was still worth being proud of. She just also knew her true body was strictly better. Honestly, she wondered how Sarah handled only having two arms. Her new ones were still too small to be much use but she already loved them.

The thought was interrupted as they arrived at school, and Brooke found her newfound confidence being tested almost immediately. She could feel the eyes on her and Sarah, both those inspecting her, and those attempting to peel apart the mystery of why they were together.

A part of her wanted to hide. She’d spent so long cultivating the skills, fearing any amount of attention being drawn to the disgusting sack she’d previously occupied, that it just felt natural. A bolder part wanted to indulge. To stand out, to wave and smile and be the centre of attention in a way she’d never been able before.

The two parts settled on a compromise, and Brooke found herself walking tall with a smirk on her face, indulging in her newfound confidence even as her lifetime of fear and self loathing kept her from truly acting out. She and Sarah split up to go to their lockers, but met up again as they made their way to their first class. No one had been confident enough to confront her, even without Sarah there to support her.

They didn’t really talk as they went, but it wasn’t an awkward silence. There was a strange sort of comfort in Sarah’s presence, and if she had to guess, Sarah also found some comfort in her own. 

Though the fact the halls around them were abuzz with half-whispered chatter about them certainly didn’t help motivate them to speak. There was so many wonderfully stupid rumours to listen to as they went. Apparently she was Sarah’s secret girlfriend, and also her cousin, but also the president’s daughter. It was quite a portfolio she was building.

The chatter died down when they made it to their first class. The students present were more inclined to quietly observe than begin gossiping it seemed, and as she and Sarah approached the teacher she could practically see them straining their ears to hear what they were about to discuss.

A part of her wanted to keep the mystery. To abandon who she used to be and become someone entirely different. She knew it wouldn’t work of course. Creating a whole new identity wasn’t nearly as simple as her daydreams would have her believe. No, she’d have to bear with the mortifying ordeal of being known.

She fought back a smile at the look of confusion on her teacher’s face as she approached, and struggled even more to suppress it once he spoke. “Good morning Ms. Zwavel and… I’m afraid I don’t recognise your friend. What can I do for the two of you this morning?”

For a moment, her bolder side won out. She held out her hand with a smile, and once Mr. Smith took it she introduced herself. “Well that’s understandable. You can call me Brooke. Brooke Bernard. I’ve been in your class since the start of the year but I’ve had a bit of a makeover.”

As she pulled back her hand she kept the appearance of calm, even as she was freaking out on the inside. Why had she done that?! That was such a stupid way to do it! She’d never really had to develop much impulse control because she was never motivated enough to really want to do anything even remotely dramatic and now she was apparently paying the price!

For his part Mr. Smith appeared utterly confused for several moments before realisation seemed to slowly dawn on him. He blinked, jaw hanging open as he made no effort to hide the fact he was looking her over. From the stunned silence the rest of the class either didn’t hear or were similarly unsure what to do with the presented information. 

Or they didn’t, until one of the students near the front voiced a piece of additional information to help put things into place. “Wait, like… Jay Bernard?” Brooke turned to the boy who’d spoken up, still smiling as she met his eyes. “Mhm.” She then proceeded to walk over to her desk and sit down, beginning to unpack her bag for class as though nothing had happened.