Dressing in what feels familiar, you have to compromise your selection. You slip on your underwear, only to recognise that it's swimwear.
Shrugging, you confess if you couldn't tell, hopeful no-one else will find it so strange. It's certainly more comfortable, than facing the reality of your naked body. Tugging a soccer top on next, you feel more dressed. Your disturbing new sex, more hidden. Your bust... That sounds, and feels so weird... your bust pushes the top forward. As you try to convince yourself, that it just looks baggy and loose.
Tugging at the hem of the shirt, you only succeed in making your bust strain obviously against the fabric. Still trying to convince yourself this is a dream. But it's so detailed and mundane that your doubts build. You feel the long mane of hair caught at your collar. Giving it a cautious, experimental tug, as if that'll somehow reveal it's a wig... and everything else will prove to be just as much an illusion.
You take the look in. In the unfamiliar full length mirror, your shoulders slump. You just wish you had the tomboy-ish slender figure to pull it off. Hell! You just wish you were still a guy. As tears threaten to flow, you have to admit you are a young woman, and a lot curvier than you wish... certainly than you wish to be!... Though if you saw her your eyes would certainly be drawn to her!
As you imagine those eyes on you, those lewd thoughts now directed at you... You shudder, a shiver running down your spine.
Chris heard his mom shout "Christina Elise Thomas hurry up you've got school".
It was the death knell for her hopes. Everyone knew her as this curvaceous fox! Slipping on some pants, she was mortified to discover they were as sheer and clingy as everything else. All her clothes seemed to conspire to remind her of how feminine she was, and deny any trace of masculinity.
No manly bulge bothered her crotch. However carefully she hoped for one to appear. Worse, as she glared and glowered, it became obvious she was displaying a hint of camel toe! She dabbed the tears from her eyes, and headed downstairs. Hoping for the mundane and familiar. Her regular breakfast, her regular mom. Something that said life was continuing as normal.
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