The change was far more abrasive than the previous ones. One moment he was sitting at his computer desk and the next he's crumpled over on the floor. He felt like he'd been kicked in the chest as the air is forced from his lungs. When he takes another breath, his lungs don't fill nearly as much. It's so quick and light, even the air rushing through his windpipe seems more delicate. He's so... no. She's so small.
She coughs a few times and leans back against her bed to catch her breath. While she pants, she looks around. Her room is drastically different. The walls are painted a deep lilac, and most of the furniture seems to have been painted white; White headboard, white dresser, white crown molding and base board. Even the comforter she's resting her head against is stripped in shades of indigo and purple rather than its former navy and tan. It's bolder than John's used to, though it definitely gives off a pleasant feminine comfort.
The room seems clean enough. Everything is in its place though the vanity, opposite her desk, is absolutely cluttered with bottles, tonics, and creams. That's not the only surface either. While things are in their place, everything is just more cluttered than before. Fashion and Home Decor magazines overflow from the bookshelf. The dresser is piled with scarves, jewelry, and other accessories. Her desk is piled up with homework and books. This girl could use a little help organizing herself.
At last, with a gulp, she turns her attention to her body, the real reason he followed through with this. She's small. Shakily Jon rises to her feet and finds that her head barely rises higher than the headboard of her pillow swamped bed. Her hair is just past her shoulders, and like in the picture, her waifish hands are tipped with bright red nail polish. She stretches, and notes that while her body isn't particularly athletic (In fact she fears that it's quite weak!) neither is it overweight. She's lithesome and healthy, with only a slightly notable pudge around her belly. It pooches out a bit past her jeans, and John chuckles a little as she pinches the flub.
She glances to the door, and bites her lip. Her heart rate quickens Is this ok? Should she follow through with the full extent of her curiosity? She scrambles over to the door and locks it, then just as quickly strips out of her shirt. Her mouth hangs open as she marvels at her body in the mirror. "This girl She's... no, me. I'm beautiful " Her thoughts turn more lecherous with each moment however and she begins to strip slowly out of her jeans
