He sat on his bed and stared at the room, unable to believe it was actually his. It was a teenage girl's bedroom, of that he could see. And though it should feel alien to him, Abby found it felt comfortable, like he belonged and had designed it himself. Taking in the posters and pictures on the walls, the dresser that matched the vanity and the bed, the quilted comforter, the sheets with a unicorn print, the body mirror and the open closet, he tried to deny it was his, but found he couldn't.
Slowly, he stood and as his skirt slipped down, he did nothing to try and stop it. Instead, stepping out of it, he pushed down on the thong he had on, shrugged off the button-up, tossed it on the bed, the grasped the hem of the tank top he on and pulled it up and over his head. Undoing the bra, he walked naked across the room and stopping in front of the mirror he peered at his reflection.
From the neck up, he thought he looked the most like a girl, as his face was round, soft, and had a feminine appearance to it that was enhanced by his hair, which was light brown, came down past his shoulders, looked kind of wavy, and had a slight curl to it. From his neck down, it was harder to determine if he was looking at a guy's body, or a girls. Even thought he no longer had hair on his chest, crotch, legs, arms, and armpits, he still could see a lot of that which stated he was a dude. Peering at his dick, a small, limp thing, he thought that, even though it looked smaller, it still clearly marked him as a guy. Turning one way, then another, he struck a couple poses, but found that except for the way he held himself, it was hard to tell if there was even a hint of femininity, though he felt there might be smidge.
A sigh escaped him, and as he turned away, noting as he did that he still appeared to be nineteen, despite what his id said, Abby peered at the skirt and underwear on the floor and the two shirts on the bed. Thinking, "I am not putting that back on," and heading for the dresser, he began to go through the drawers, searching for something that didn't look so girly.
Nearly forty-five minutes later he exited the room. Having settled on a pair of jean shorts that buttoned up and another tank top, he was bothered that he was wearing a pair of tight, pink cotton panties and a matching bra, even as his mind insisted it was what he normally wore. Hair tied back in a loose braid, it had been one thing that had taken him a bit to get right, with the other, which he didn't get right, was a self experiment.
In an attempt to prove that, despite the id, the way people perceived him, and all that was happening, he was still a guy, he had tried masturbating. Lying on the bed, liking how the nice blanket felt against his naked skin, he struggled for a minute to get a hold of his small, limp cock. When he finally managed, it took him a moment to try and get the motion down on stroking the thing. Only to find that no matter what he did, he could not get an erection, found thinking about naked girls disturbing, and between the cool breeze blowing in through the window and how soft and comfortable his bed was, the most he managed was a slick, moist feel between his legs and a warmth that went down and between his legs, as well as up his groin, across his abdomen, through his chest and into his nipples, which left them erect and sensitive feeling.
Troubled by what he thought of as his inability to get aroused, missing that he had been sexually turned on like a girl, Abby headed back downstairs. Thinking that what he needed more than anything was to find Edgar, he searched about for a pair of tennies, slipped his feet, which he thought looked smaller, in and going back to the kitchen, he proceeded to take everything from his purse and transfer it to a small, cute looking backpack, including what he discovered was a change purse and folding wallet for bills, complete with money, which he thought must have appeared sometime when he had been upstairs.
Eating the last of his sandwich, he thought about what he should do. On one hand, he wanted to find Edgar and get some answers, specifically why the transformation was not instantaneous, and why it was turning him into a fifteen year old girl instead of a nineteen year old girl. Disliking the thought that he was becoming a teenage girl, even as he thought about the teenage girls he had run into in junior and senior high and how they had acted and treated him, Abby finished his lunch, grabbed his backpack and headed out.
Back at the bus stop, he fished some money out the change purse and no longer feeling like it was wrong he was dressed in girl's clothing, he didn't bat an eye when a couple other people joined him. When the bus arrived, he quickly stepped on and requested a transfer to another bus that would take him down to the south end of town and the department store Edgar worked at. Sitting with his back pack in his lap, he stared out the window, only feeling self conscious how how, when he had pulled on the panties, it had forced his dick to end up tucked back, making it look like he had nothing out front down there.
When the bus pulled into the terminal, he started for the next bus, but stopped when he heard, "Hey, Abby," and turning toward the speaker, he watched as Sara came running toward him.
A weird sensation started to come over him as the girl stopped a couple steps and asked, "How are you?" then explained that she was on her way up to the local senior high to get her photo id, then said, "Hey, you want to come with? I'm sure you already have your id. And if you do, you could show me around and, if you want, afterward, we could hang out."
His mind leapt back to the previous evening and as he remembered how everything had slipped away from him and he lost several hours, Abby was tempted to explain that he something he needed to take care of first. But, instead of telling the other girl this, he heard himself saying, "Sure. I got my id earlier this month, and I am already set for classes two months from now," as if from a great distance and went Sara asked, "You sure you wouldn't mind. I mean, I understand if you do not want to be seen with the new girl," he shook his head and as the feeling of slipping grew, he said, "Not all. Come on. Let's see if you have the same home room as I do," before heading over to a different bus.
---
It was as if time suddenly slowed and everything came back into focus. Hearing himself say, "Be right back," he stepped into what he realised was the woman's toilet.
The empty room a thankful reprieve as his mind reasserted itself, Abby headed for the sink and dropped his back on the counter. Peering at his reflection, he tried to recall how he had gotten into the bathroom and where exactly he was. The past couple hours coming to him in spurts, he was glad it wasn't almost blanked out like the previous evening as he remembered going up to the senior high with Sara, the other girl getting registered and everything for classes, and then two of them taking a tour of the building as they compared class schedules, of which they found that, except for two classes, math and civics, they had the exact same classes at the exact same time.
From there, they had gone to Sara's house, then a couple other places as they bummed around downtown, roaming from one store to the next, mostly looking, but buying a CD from once place and a cute bikini at another. Now, staring into the mirror, Abby breathed evenly as he tried to sort why he kept having slips where he would loose track of what was happening and he come to someplace else, and if this would continue to happen for the rest of his transformation.
A pressure on his bladder and he suddenly remembered why he had come into the bathroom. Starting to grab his back pack, he started to turn away, but stopped. Gasping at what he saw reflected, he turned so he was looking at his reflection from the side, gasped again, turned away and practically dashed for the stall.
Inside, he locked the door and hung his pack on the coat hook. Unbuttoning his shorts and pushing down on them and his underwear, he sat down. And as he felt the hot urine leaving his body, which he was thankful was still coming out of his dick, Abby stared down in muted horror at his chest, then, with a trembling hand, pulled the shirt forward. Peering down at what he saw what were a pair of breasts that did not quite fill out his bra just yet, he nearly wailed, "Oh, shit. I've got tits." Managing to keep silent as he stared at them, he found his mind confirmed what he thought as he guesses that they looked about the size they had been when he still wore an A cup, leaving him with a feeling confused as to how he knew such a thing.