There was just no talking to that girl! Alex Madison stormed into his and his wife Linda's bedroom, wondering what to do about their seventeen-year-old daughter, Zoe. She wore either the most revealing or the most ridiculous outfits to fit in with the "Goth" thing that her freaky friends were doing these days. Linda didn't buy her these outfits; he didn't know where she got them.
Alex looked into the mirror of his wife's vanity and had to smile a little bit. His face wasn't a strong, masculine one, but all modesty aside, he was still very good-looking at the age of thirty-three. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed his son sitting on the bed looking at him, and waved at him. No need to be rude to the boy, he just wanted to be included. Linda yelled to him from the kitchen. "Come on down for lunch, honey!"
He happily obliged; his wife's food was as excellent as she was beautiful, as he'd told her on many occasions. The time had flown by, somehow; it was already noon. As they kissed before eating, he noticed that he didn't have to lean down quite so low, and attributed it to her wearing heels. If he had checked, he'd know that she wasn't wearing them. "Didn't approve of what Zoe was wearing?"
He glanced at Linda over his fork, and shook his head, answering after he swallowed. "She dresses like aAa..." His voice had cracked; clearing his throat, he tried again. "She dresses like a little SLUT..."
For a moment, his voice had been as high as when he was ten. "I don't like it. Who knows what my daughTER IS DOIng dressed like that?" Linda looked at him, concerned. "Are you coming down with something?"
He just shook his head again, freezing as he did; his chest had jiggled. "I've gotta get ready, or I'll be late for work." Excusing himself from the table, he rushed up to their room, noticing Mikey once again, following him up the stairs. He must have been curious about what was wrong. Alex couldn't blame him. So was he.
Stripping off his sleep pants, Alex put on a pair of clean khakis, typical "formal casual" expected of him at work. Before he could put on his shirt, he was struck by the odd way his pants seemed to fit; they were loose lower down, but very tight in his thighs and hips. Shrugging it off, he removed his pajama shirt and paused again. His stomach which, admittedly, was getting a little big, was completely gone, leaving a perfect flat tummy in its place. Above it was something even more startling; he had breasts. Tiny ones, but definitely bigger than the ones he was beginning to grow simply because of weight. The cotton of his work shirt rubbed painfully against the enlarged nipples as he put it on, and after just walking over to his sock drawer, he was forced to take it off.
The pants were likewise unbearable after a time. Stripping them off as well, he stood in his bedroom and looked at the vanity mirror. His body, several inches smaller as well, looked like that of a naturally tall girl who had just barely started puberty. The only incongruity was his crotch, perhaps slightly smaller than it was before, but not very noticeable at first glance.
"What the hell? You look..." Linda started, walking into the room. As she paused, Alex finished, startled at how soft his voice was. Almost feminine. "...like a girl. I know." She looked at him worriedly. "How did this happen? Are you still... big? Down there?"
He nodded, smiling at least at that good news. "I don't know, but I can't go to work. It hurts to wear my clothes, and if this continues, someone will notice." Linda nodded, picking up the clothes he had dropped on the floor. "You can wear some of my sweats, but I don't have any shirts that will fit you. I'll leave and let you change."
It hurt to see her walk out; Linda was clearly turned off by this. He pulled a pair of her sweats out of her dresser, and stared at the underwear drawer for a moment before opening it up and pulling a pair of her panties out as well. The boxers were starting to hurt. Her panties didn't fit perfectly, but they were a better fit than the boxers, and the waistband of the sweats stayed on his hips, concealing any sign of them.
It had been weeks since he last took a day off from work, and he had no idea what to do. He just laid down on their bed, staring at the ceiling fan for a time before closing his eyes and nodding off.
