Jon (or rather Joan) scampered across the hallway in his (or rather her) nightgown and quickly closed the bathroom door. Somehow, a careless wish to be in Karyn's bedroom followed by another careless wish to blend in had made him into Karyn's sister. And now there he was, staring at himself (or rather herself) in Karyn's mirror.
How is this possible, Joan thought as she began examining herself. She had the same hair color, eye color, and skin tone as always, and in many ways the same overall build. Even so, she couldn't believe how much shorter and thinner and thinner she was, and how much weaker. When she walked her feet seemed to float across the floor, as if the earth's gravity had weakened. But anything she tried to lift or move -- even the bathroom door -- seemed unnaturally heavy.
I have no idea what I'm doing in here, she realized. Joan suspected she was supposed to fix her hair and put on makeup -- however she did that -- but wouldn't it make sense to do those things after showering? And before showering, wouldn't it make sense to use the toilet? But to use the toilet, should she lift up her nightgown or just take it off?
Curiosity got the best of her. Dreading yet eagerly anticipating what she might discover, Joan pulled the nightgown over her head and faced the mirror. The breasts seemed average in size and perhaps above average in firmness. The nipples were two or three times as wide as Joan remembered them, but at least they seemed well defined. Joan felt like touching them, and almost did, but then she looked down and went cold.
Gone; it was really gone. Her dick, her balls, everything was gone. Gone! Instead, she had nothing but a tangled and wiry patch of public hair. Instinctively, she reached down and grabbed herself.
Oh yeah, there was stuff there, all right. Joan could feel it, or at least parts of it, tucked all neatly inside herself. But Joan still couldn't see it. Without that she didn't really know what she had. Without that, she still felt she had nothing. She felt emasculated. She felt castrated.
Finding a scissors took only a few moments. Trembling, Joan stood over the toilet and stared down at her impossibly empty crotch. Am I really going to cut away more, she thought? Are those really my tits blocking my view? Whose body is this, anyway? Is it OK with them if I do this?
Of, course, Joan realized, it was her own body, impossible as that seemed. And so, before she could change her mind, she grabbed a handful of the dark wiry hair, pulled it away from herself, held the scissors as close to her skin as she dared, and carefully took a snip. Then she dropped her new handful of pubic hair into the toilet and snipped again. And Again. And again.
Within a few minutes Joan had no question about the appearance of her outer sex organs. There they all were: mons, vagina, outer lips, inner lips. Touching herself felt much different than before. Oh yes, that must be the clit. Oh YES!
The whole area was rougher, of course, depending on the direction of her pubic stubble. At the same time, though, it had certainly become more intimate. Joan used a disposable razor to even out the long spots, then sat to do her business.
That, too, was odd: very odd. The pee came faster, and seemingly out of the wrong place. There was no sensation of its passing through the tip of her penis. Instead, it just dumped into the toilet. Moments later, so did her solids.
The shower felt glorious. Her entire body felt more sensitive. Each drop from the showerhead felt like a tiny massage. She chose a shampoo at random and worked it into her long silky hair. She took a washcloth, lathered it up, and scrubbed her breasts, her back, her butt, her pussy, her long thin slim legs, her entire body. She was ready to soak in the glorious shower water all day. Eventually though, she realized that she'd better get ready for school, and that in any event the hot water had run out.
Drying, brushing, and arranging her hair would have been impossible without help from the stone. The same was true of her makeup. In each case, Joan had simply wished she knew what to do, and then she knew it. It was still strange, though -- incredibly strange -- to be using Karyn's bathroom, Karyn's hair dryer, Karyn's styling gel, and Karyn's makeup to get ready. So strange, in fact, that she stopped noticing the way her elbow brushed her nipple as she applied her makeup.
"Hurry up in there! What's taking so long? I hope you didn't use all the hot water!" boomed Karyn's brother Max from just outside the door.
"Just a minute! I'm almost done," Joan shouted back. Actually it was more like six or seven minutes, but then she pulled her nightgown back on and unlocked the door. Instantly Max burst into the room and Joan burst out.
"I'll kill you if you used all the hot water," Max threatened as they passed. Joan realized with a start that Max had now become her brother as well as Karyn's.
"Uh, I think there should be some again by now," Joan replied.
Max had a single word of complaint and he shouted it for all the world to hear: "Girls!"
"Wow, you outdid yourself this morning," Karyn remarked as Joan locked the door to their bedroom.
"Uh, thanks. I tried something new," Joan replied truthfully, then she began the curious task of sorting through Karn's bras, panties, and dresses to choose his (or rather her) outfit for the day. There was one dress in particular that had always turned him on...
