Closing the door, you took a deep breath. Just great. Your closest neighbor was a crazy rich lady. At least, you assumed she was rich judging by her mansion and extensive statue collection. Maybe moving out to this secluded area had not been the best idea.
Still, nothing to be done for it now. You looked at your luggage scattered around. Most of it had already been unpacked, but a few still remained. Sighing, you got back to work on that, intent on distracting yourself from the day’s weirdness. Unfortunately, unknown to you, the day’s weirdness had followed you home.
After unzipping the next suitcase, you pull out one of your shirts. Maybe it was from being crammed in a suitcase for a couple of days, but the wrinkled garment seemed different somehow. Shrugging it off, you put it aside and brought out a few more shirts. Again, they all struck you as odd. While the designs and colors were still recognizable, they just seemed smaller and perhaps lighter in fabric. However, you maintained your state of denial until you pulled out a pair of your shorts.
There could be no denying it, this time. The shorts were far…well, shorter than before. In fact, they looked rather feminine. Had someone else’s clothing gotten mixed in with your own? Carefully, you dug through the rest of the case’s contents. Your suspicions turned to certainty as you only found more female clothing, girl’s t-shirts, blouses, sports bras, even a few boyshort panties.
That settled it. The airport had definitely made a mistake. Or did they? Sitting back, you observed that the suitcase was identical to your own. And the clothing, aside from the underwear, did bear an uncanny resemblance to your own wardrobe. Slowly, the hairs on the back of your neck prickled.
That prickling grew worse as you picked up another shirt. No mistake, this had to be yours. You had worn this shirt, emblazoned with the name of your favorite band, for years, only now it had mysteriously been altered into a crop top.
By now, the tingling on your neck had developed into full-blown tickling, and you reached up to rub it. A soft cushion of long hair met your touch. Frowning, you yanked some of it into view, feeling a painful tugging on your scalp as you did. Silky, dark brown tresses met your gaze, and a subtle sweet scent filled your nose. “What the-” You gasped, hearing the squeaky voice coming out of your throat.
You jumped to your feet only to stumble. Your balance felt off, and new weight shifted on your chest. Looking down, you let out a piercing shriek at the two breasts pushing out the front of your shirt. Even as you watched, they inflated another inch or so, adding even more jiggling weight in the process. Meanwhile, the dark t-shirt you had on rippled and shrank in on all sides. Sleeves, collar, and bottom, all drew inwards to expose feminine shoulders, a trim, narrow waist, and a nice hint of cleavage. Soon, you found yourself hugged by a comfortable sports bra.
Down below, your pants had darkened to match the top. The fit tightened while the fabric became stretchy and smooth, and the legs shortened to reveal the lower half of your slender calves. In seconds, a pair of athletic leggings completed your new workout ensemble along with some practical running shoes on your small feet. Trailing a hand over your skintight clothing, you could not ignore your wider hips and shapely legs. Even worse, there was no doubt that your crotch held nothing more than what one would expect on a healthy young woman.
Racing to the bathroom, you checked your reflection in the mirror. Yep, definitely a girl’s face. Pretty, too, in a girl-next-door kind of way, and no older than her late teens, twenty at most. With the right makeup, you would be a stunner, but right now, you preferred the bare minimum especially for a morning jog through the forest by yourself.
Wait, what? Where did that thought come from? You wanted no makeup at all! No girly face, no female body, none of it!
Despite your mental rejection, your new circumstances remained. Somehow, you had turned into a girl.