They finished their experiment, and as he walked the beakers back, Jon could definitely feel Leonard's eyes on his ass. It felt strangely good. He tried to put it out of his head. He returned to his desk and dropped hard into his seat. Instead of the normal discomfort of coming down so hard on his tailbone, he didn't notice, protected as he was by the very slight swell of his rear.
The teacher slapped the graded tests onto their black-topped desk. Jon flipped his over, expecting his usual score of ninety-five or higher. A bright red '84' stared back at him. A B. He felt a pang of panic—he never got Bs.
Karyn didn't even flinch. She glanced at her own B minus, shrugged, and stuffed the paper carelessly into her bag. "Solid," she murmured, popping a piece of gum into her mouth. "Better than failing, right?"
Karyn's changes hadn't stopped because Jon hadn't been paying attention to them.
The black t-shirt had shrunk, the fabric had bleached to white, and the neckline of it was starting to creep down. You couldn't see any cleavage, but her breasts had expanded slightly to small C cups. Her hair had grown out past her chin and now brushed softly against her shoulders. Even her jacket had morphed; the leather had shrunk upward, the hem now resting just inches below her breasts in a cut that was completely impractical for warmth but incredibly stylish.
Jon shifted in his seat, suddenly acutely aware of his own body. The movement caused his Star Wars shirt to brush against his skin, and he gasped quietly. His shirt hadn't changed anymore, still only a few inches of slightly flabby stomach was exposed but underneath it...
Two distinct, tender mounds—A-cups, he realized with a flush of heat—were pushing against the cotton. The friction against his sensitive nipples sent a shameful, pleasant tingle straight to his groin. But even that sensation was changing. The crushing pressure of the yoga pants had started to ease, not because the fabric had loosened any but because the pressure was spread out more over his shrinking and flattening bulge.
Fuck!
This wasn't supposed to happen.
The bell rang, signaling the end of the period.
"Come on, Jon," Karyn said, grabbing her bag and sashaying toward the door, her hips swaying with a new, practiced rhythm. "Time to sweat. Gym's next."
Jon stood and followed her out, not noticing the slight sway in his own hips or how he smiled as Biff pushed past him in the hallway.
