You've never felt so overwhelmed in your life. Just then, it feels like every little thing bothers you, pressing in on the weight of the sheer awfulness of your situation. So much for some sort of Halloween store; there's no doubt in your mind that magic is real. There cannot be any imagining what you feel: the pressure of breasts on fabric and the distinct absence of anything between your legs. There is no way not to think about what that absence means: David is gone. None of the people you know would recognize you. They certainly wouldn't believe you're the same attractive redhead as the ordinary and distinctly male brunette you were until a few minutes ago. What would your girlfriend say?
She's the last straw. Thinking about Lauren and the life you can't have again is enough to crush your will and leave you crying like a helpless child. You've never cried before in public, and at first you don't even know what's happening. But something warm is streaming down your face, and you're sobbing softly into... Marisa's shoulder. Strangely, the woman did not even seem to mind, wrapping her arms around you in the way you've sometimes seen women do. Is this what it's like to freely express emotions with someone else? "Shh... Relax, David," comes her voice, soothing in your ears. "I know it's a lot to take in. I don't expect you to be used to it in a few minutes." You're not sure what it is about being comforted by this woman that's a total stranger to you, but you really do feel better. The world really is feeling a little less scary in those big arms. It's so easy not to think of anything. The weight of your unsupported breasts isn't even bothering you anymore. It's partially that thought that makes you open your eyes. Partially it's the rush of fabric down your legs as jeans and boxers slide down to your ankles. The first thing you see as your eyes open is that you're looking /up/ at Marisa's breasts. How on Earth did you get so small? The next thing you feel is the chill of exposed legs. Looking down, you realize with newly renewed horror what happened to your pants. The change into a woman brought a dramatic slimming to your waistline, even as your hips widened enough to hold up your baggy pants.
Baggy is an understatement now as you look down at the tents your legs have somehow become entangled in, struggling to escape for a moment. The pants seem less yielding than your legs though, because you jump trying to escape... and suddenly the air is rushing past you, and you land on your rump, with a painful smack of skin on linoleum. There's nothing for it: you don't even try to resist the tears this time and sob freely. The pitiful squeaks you hear are at least an octave higher than they were before, which only makes you cry louder, as though the volume could somehow hide the reality for you.
As before, you are not left to your own devices long. You feel warm, strong hands under both your shoulders, lifting you gently to your feet. The huge T-shirt you're still wearing comes sliding off, and for a moment you're completely naked, crying with eyes closed, far too afraid to look. Then you hear the voice again, Marisa sounding as comfortable and gentle as any person can. "Put your arms up, dear." You obey without question, though the tears haven't stopped. They don't even as you feel thick fabric sliding down your thin body. It feels like a hug as the soft cloth drops down to the level of your ankles. That's when the tears stop, and you open your eyes. Your old clothes are all piled up on the floor around you, your body wrapped tightly in a small version of the robes you saw for sale earlier, the cloth dancing gently around your ankles. "Well?" Marisa asks, watching your face with obvious concern. "Is that better? I'm sorry that's all I have that will fit you... but if it makes you feel any better, they're the robes I wore as an apprentice. All sorts of little charms in there from when I was your age..."
"But... I'm not supposed to be this young!" You finally manage to squeak, wiping the tears from your face with the back of one black sleeve.
"I hadn't planned on it either, David," she answers, handing you a pair of matching black slippers which you find yourself pulling onto your feet, sitting down on the ground as you do it. "But you weren't responding well. Not really a surprise from a non like you, nothing to be ashamed of. But... eleven is the youngest an apprentice is allowed to be. I really think being able to start over will help you. I wish I could say you hadn't hit puberty yet, but... from this side, by the time you've my age being a woman should be the most natural thing in the world to you."
You want to argue, but somehow the words all choke together in your head, and all that escapes your lips is a frightened squeak. Marisa takes you by the shoulder and marches you from the room, and for some reason your legs move in order, and you walk, stopping only when Marisa does, in front of a shelf heavy laden with cages and tanks. Every pet animal you've ever seen is arranged here, along with many more that you are pretty sure aren't legal to own. The cages tower over you at your new height, though the arm around your shoulder is enough to keep you from panicking for now. "I know just how to cheer up my little apprentice... her first familiar. Go ahead and pick one... but choose carefully. Familiars change us as much as we change them."
Stomach tying itself in knots, you look up at Marisa one last time before your eyes find the cages and you...
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Get MORE!
Shop Memberships
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
