Sarah McMillian was typically late to her first period class, and today was no different. What was different, however, was the fact that Sarah felt a small twinge of guilt at her blatant tardiness. She couldn't say why, but Sarah felt that today bore some special significance, one that was a little spoiled by being late.
Shaking the feeling off, she made to get her homework from the night before, which is to say collect it from whichever dweeb she had manipulated into doing it for her yesterday. The teacher had just stepped out to take a call, so Sarah took the opportunity to stand up and head towards... who had done her homework this time? Sarah stopped, puzzling over the sudden blank of which exactly of the class's many losers she had coerced into helping her. Oh well, whoever they were could have quite possibly turned it in already, and worst case scenario she simply fails to turn in another assignment. Nothing out of the ordinary there.
As Sarah returned to her seat, she noticed her hands seemed strange. Her long nails were painted a bright red, whereas Sarah could have sworn she had painted them blue three nights ago. When did she change them? Well she must have, obviously. Obviously nail polish doesn't just change color on its own. Sarah chuckled to herself, determined not to reject any more weirdness and just have a normal day at school...
And she did, at least from her perspective, though her perspective of normal had been changing radically over the first three periods of the school day. As the first period had dragged on, Sarah's blonde hair had begun to coil, and by the time the bell had rung it had become a mane of ringlets the shape of springs. Her nails were now not only scarlet but a good deal shorter, sacrificing the femininity of their previous length for practicality. Sarah's makeup had faded, and was replaced by a sprinkling of freckles across her nose. Perhaps the most striking change was in her height, as Sarah had grown over a foot until she was a towering six foot five. Sarah's body had grown to meet her new proportions, and her breasts had swelled beyond that, growing from an already impressive DD to a generous f cup. Sarah's false tan had disappeared, replaced by the more natural coloring earned by hours out in the sunlight. Overall, Sarah's features were still quite similar, though anyone who remembered both her old and new selves would be more likely to place them as cousins than one and the same.
Sarah's apparel had changed as well, and not just to compensate for her new height and assets. Gone were the tube tops and miniskirts that had dominated Sarah's wardrobe for most of her adolescence. Instead, Sarah's clothing were far more tomboyish, not outright butch but definitely favoring function over form. She wore an open button up shirt with a plain tank top underneath and a bra granting as much support as possible underneath that. Where Sarah had come to school wearing dozens of clinking bracelets and charms, she now simply wore a matching pair of leather cuffs. Sarah now also wore a pair of jeans, not the designer, skin tight sort of before, but a pair of loose, boot cut jeans that showed all manner of wear and tear despite having been worn by Sarah for the first time today. Her usual high heels were long gone, traded in for a pair of black cowboy boots. She still carried a purse over her shoulder, but rather than an expensive designer style it was a simple leather satchel.
And the changes were hardily limited to the outside, either. Sarah had continued to forget things, as well as change her mannerisms and actions altogether. She had gotten lost on her way to her second class, and needed to stop to ask for directions to find a class she had been going to all year. Her usual disdain and arrogance had been slowly replaced by a more quite air, and she now kept her interactions with others brief and cordial. Her familiarity with her surroundings had slipped further and further from her grasp until Sarah didn't even recognize her old friends, and she passed Biff Meadows, her former boyfriend, without so much as a second glance. Sarah had lost her seductive posture and walk during second period, and halfway through the third she had acquired a distinct Southern twang.
Sarah had grown up a manipulative, vain creature, obsessed with appearances and categorizing those around her as either the useful to be manipulated or the useless to be scornfully dismissed. She had clawed up to become queen bee of the school, and enjoyed her position as the most popular girl with ruthless glee. But now Sarah, along with the rest of the school, had become convinced that she was an outsider to the school's social structure, a newcomer just moved here with her family not three days ago. This new Sarah cared nothing at all for the petty dramas her fellow teenagers based their world around, and the only extent to which she cared of her peer's attention was when it was unwelcome. And thanks to the fact that she was most likely the tallest, and most well endowed girl on most of her schools, Sarah remembers receiving all manner of unwanted attention. Whereas the old Sarah had reveled, basked in the ogling of the male students upon her female form, the new Sarah found it uncomfortable and a little creepy. She had long ago lost count of the number of times she had to either tell watchers to fuck off or explain how no, they weren't fake; though in actuality Sarah had never done either thing once. Combined with the strain they put on her back, the new Sarah hated her boobs almost as much as the old Sarah had loved them.
With all memory of the school's layout and halls forgotten, the Amazonian woman found herself lost again. "How hard is it t'find th' dadburn bathrooms?" she mumbled, glancing over the heads of the crowd mulling towards the cafeteria. Sarah searched with increasing franticness, until finally she happened upon an unmarked bathroom door. Satisfied, Sarah plowed through the door.
Jon had made his way to the bathrooms in the west wing of the school, the one section of the school that had not seen refurbishments in the past sixty years. His change of clothes should be in the nearest bathroom stall, as they always were. Pausing in front of the mirror, Jon touched up his hair, which now framed a heart shaped face.
Turning to enter the stall, Jon's tight shirt brushed against his nipples, sending a shiver down his body. Glancing down, he found that for the third time his nipples were poking out. Pulling the shirt off, Jon inspected his chest. Now not only were the nipples themselves the size of thimbles, but the areolae were now a good inch and a half across and a bright pink in color. Combined with his collapsed stomach, it made Jon's torso seem rather androgynous indeed.
Reaching up on instinct, Jon gasped as as a finger brushed against the sensitive mammary, a warm pleasure that felt wonderfully familiar despite having felt nothing like it until History class. Rubbing his long fingernails along the wide circles, Jon began to sway to the waves of pleasure across his body. As his breath lapsed into a series of moans and gasps, Jon's voice went up again, this time to a rather feminine mezzo-soprano.
Jon's experimentation came to an abrupt end when a tall figure burst into the room, causing Jon to jump back with a yelp. He instinctively covered his arms over his exposed nipples, though why he couldn't say.
The girl, an Amazon with curly blonde locks and an impressive bust, seemed just as shocked as Jon. "Oh mah God ah'm so so'ry! Ah didn't mean to... ah was jest lookin' fo' th' washrooms..."
"Oh its quite alright," Jon said, quickly regaining his composure. Despite here size, the girl looked to be about Jon's age. These bathrooms are a little confusing, as the school board never replaced the ones that were pinched decades ago. You must be new here."
She nodded, "Mah family moved up not last week fum Li'l Rock. Ah'm Saralyne McMillian, though eff'n thet don't sueyte yo' Sara will do."
"A pleasure. I'm Jon Madison, though most people ring me up by my surname. Tell you what, you met any mates here yet?" Saralyne shook her head. "bleedin' brilliant, then. How about thou come eat lunch with me and my group then? Nicole's a frog, but Karyn's a seppo like you."
"Well ah reckon ah w'd appreciate that very much, eff'n yo'd have me. Now excuse me, is other bathroom jest down th' hall?"
"That's right, take a right, you're looking for the red door. Wait for a spell after your done, I shan't take a moment." Saralyne excused herself, leaving Jon to change. Most of the clothing was about the same, the shorts now a little tighter and the shirt now a bit short at the bottom. The underwear was about the same, but was now accompanied by a garment that Jon didn't recognize as a training bra. His shoes were now glossy black flats that fit Jon's new feet perfectly. Two small studs sat at the bottom of the bag, and Jon pulled them out, and placed each one in his ear, each fitting in perfectly despite neither one having been pierced until the moment Jon put the studs in.
Stepping out and meeting with the girl who was at once his new friend and old enemy, Jon led Saralyne in the direction of the cafeteria, striking up a conversation on Tiffany Sanders and her bitchy clique of tossers. The two hit it off, and soon it was evident that Saralyne Annabelle McMillian was the perfect friend for Jon. Which, of course, which was just what the architect Jon's change had intended her to become.
