I woke up in a cold sweat, then sighed in relief. It'd all just been a dream. I turned to get out of bed and felt the sway of abundant chest flesh; my heart sank. Wait, it was real!?
Of all the times to lose two feet of height, gain two breasts, and have the tiniest hands in the world, it had to be at football practice! In front of Coach and all my teammates! My sadistic ineptitude of the previous day rushed back at me like a pile of bricks, making me angry. Fortunately, my mom had helped me by altering one of my outfits so it fit me better; I don’t think I could have handled managing that myself.
So it didn’t take much to just set me off. And it finally happened when I went to my locker before gym class, only to pull out one of the worst things I could ever have imagined would be in there.
A bra.
What cruel joke is this? If there were other people around, I would have gone absolutely nuts. I tried to keep my composure, but I just couldn’t contain myself any longer. I dug around in my backpack for a lighter I kept hidden. I needed to burn the cursed thing. I just—
Owwww!
Before I could actually set fire to the bra, Coach grabbed me roughly and twisted my arm, and it smarted, much more than I ever expected someone grabbing me to hurt. I could see that my left wrist was slightly bruised.
“What do we have here?” Oh, I thought, he caught me with a bra in my hand! “You’re not supposed to have a lighter at school, Biff.” He wrested the lighter roughly out of my dainty hand. “We’ll just have to see about this. Plus, you think...that…” He gestured down my whole body with his hands. “...That this is proper attire for a young lady like yourself!?” He effortlessly lifted me off my feet into the air as he pulled me into his office, making me feel terrifyingly helpless and weak, then plopped me roughly down into a chair as he turned to his desk and furiously wrote out a slip of paper. Come back to me when you’ve done all this." He pointed sharply at the door. "Go home and change! I want to see you back here in no more than two hours in your proper attire or face worse punishment.” He handed the slip back to me and pushed me towards the exit.
I read the slip and felt my heart sink. Coach was incredibly specific. It was like a checklist: short dress, high heels, jewelry, nail polish, the whole nine yards. It also said that, due to my attempted arson, they all had to be more pronounced and as feminine as possible. How the... I was incredulous, but Coach was glaring at me, so I decided I had to get out of there before he gave me another nasty bruise.
I was lucky there was no one home during the day, because I did not want anyone to see the state I was in. I had no idea how to do anything that Coach had ordered because… Since when does a boy have a dress and high heels in his closet? How would I even put them on? I’d struggled just to find something that wasn’t a cute pair of heels this morning, because all my shoes had changed!
I texted Sarah. I’m in need of help, I don’t know what to do. It’s urgent. I was sent home. I couldn’t do this alone, but I had to do something. When did I get all these women’s shoes in my closet? And where were my own shoes? I thought to myself.
I was interrupted by my phone buzzing. I got sent home too, so come on by! I was quite relieved. Thinking quickly, I stuffed a few pairs of shoes into my school bag—a pair of heels that looked sensible on height, a taller pair of heels that wasn’t in a very feminine color, and a couple of ballet flats—then headed over to Sarah’s place.
“Oh, Sarah, I’m—” I exclaimed as she opened the door.
“Oh my gosh!” we exclaimed simultaneously upon seeing each other.
