I rolled over, still half asleep.
Ow.
Something was smooshing my chest.
Wait.
I shot up. My hands went to my chest.
What the fuck?!
I had breasts. Ok, technically all humans have breasts. But I had big ones. Developed ones. Not just breasts. Tits. Boobs. Knockers. Female breasts. My hands trembled as I slowly moved them in every direction, unable to stop myself from feeling for the shape and size. Maybe it was just the shock, but they didn't seem to end. If more than a handful's a waste, then I was wasteful. Just a bit. That made me laugh. That felt good, so I did it some more. Somewhere in the back of my mind, dully, I realized that I must be insane.
Insane. Yes. That was it. That water I drank, that tasted so good. It must have been a hallucinogen. So this would all wear off. Right?
Ok. With a concerted effort, I stopped laughing hysterically, and began to catch my breath. Three, two, one...
I looked down.
I immediately looked back up again. Ok. I must have been hallucinating. There's no way I just saw what I thought I saw.
I looked down again.
I was...pink.
Not flesh-tone pink, either. Hot pink. Yep. Everywhere. Arms, hands...breasts. And I was...partitioned. My front, the bottoms of my arms, my legs, were all hot pink. The back of my arms, extending to the tops of my shoulders and I assumed, my back, was a dazzling pattern of fuschia and other darker shades ranging almost to purple, all swirling against each other. I bit back another laugh. I had to, or I'd cry.
I lifted my arms to look at my pastel hands closer, but when I did, something tugged at them. It hurt. It's still impossible for me to describe the feeling. I'd never felt pain there before, but I knew that it was was part of my arm. I found a long curtain dangling from both my arms. I was sitting on them. I realized that it was...skin. The same fuschia and violet swirls decorated the long draping flaps as were on my new back.
Fins. I realized suddenly. Huge flippers. Probably more decorative than practical, like on a goldfish. Only, y'know, pink. They were huge. Sitting up, they fell past my waist to just barely begin pooling on the floor. And I could feel with them. I felt the cold cavern floor against my...fins. The sensation was consistent. I was starting to think maybe this wasn't a hallucination. Oh God.
I shot up. I had to see my reflection. I had to see what else had changed. If there was anything about me that was still me. I took a step forward and toppled to the floor.
This time I did cry when my face smacked the hard rock. I tried to choke it back but the sobs just kept coming. Walking felt wrong. Completely and utterly alien. Nothing reacted to my thoughts the way it should. I had too much leg.
Finally, I stopped crying and got up again. I looked down this time. I could see why I tripped. I really did have too much leg. They looked like they were about twice the length of my torso. I saw tiny feet with three webbed toes. Small, womanly calves. And huge thighs. Not flabby though, it was all curving muscle. Shapely, really. A woman's legs, I thought at first, but then I realized that the thighs looked almost like a frog's. And that wasn't all, slightly above where my thighs jutted from my massive hips was another set of delicate fins. These fell all the way to my ankles. Oh God. What the hell was I?
I took a step forward, careful to keep it small. My hips swung oddly, and I almost toppled again from overcompensating...but I held my ground. I made another step. And then another. I put one foot directly in front of the other, rolled my hips, and took small, careful steps. Ladylike, I thought miserably.
Finally, the agonizing journey was over. It was all of six feet, but it felt like it took a lifetime. There I was, standing in front of the pool of water I'd drank from earlier. But now it's surface was no longer clear. It had become a perfect mirror. Reflected in it was...me. The real me. Brown hair, plain face. A young man. A human.
I raised my hands to my face. They were still pink. Tipped with long, elegant, nailless fingers that nonetheless ended in feminine tapering points. A woman's hands. Or at least, an alien woman's.
It was too much. I ran.
