The soft cotton panties, white low rise bikini briefs with a pretty design of pastel hearts, pressed comfortably into the area between his legs and rode a smidge higher on his hips as he bent his legs. And as the high waisted button fly shorts tightened, but not painfully or uncomfortably, in certain areas, he examined the toes of his right foot. As he did this, Abby listened as Sara recounted her most recent date with Aron, and gently touching the brush to one of his toenails, he spread the nail polish on. When he heard about how the boy had tried to cop a feel while they were at the movies, resulting in Sara elbowing him in the lip, Abby gushed, "Oh god. You didn't," then burst into peels of girlish laughter when Sara told him she had, then added, "And when he didn't take a hint, I accidentally dumped his pop in his lap," adding air quotes and emphasis when she said accidentally.
It had been about four or five days since he had used the Amulet of Zulo. And in that time, he had had a number of slips where he had lost awareness of everything around him, came to in a new place, with memories that were sometimes fragmented or otherwise missing. After the eighth time it had happened, Abby had grudgingly decided enough. That if he was going to turn into a girl, fine. He wasn't going to fight it any more. But the first chance he got to speak with the other boy-turned-girl, he could no longer remember the guy's name, which he found troubling, he was going to demand the necklace and a way to be changed back.
"Needless to say, I don't think Aron and I are going on another date," Sara breathed out and nodding, Abby finished the toe he was working on and began working on the next one, saying, "Pity. You two seemed so right together."
Carefully applying the nail polish to the toe, listening to what Sara was saying and chiming in every so often, Abby found himself thinking.
He still didn't want to be a girl, despite how right it felt, how his mind insisted that was what he was, that he liked being female, and the way a number of people treated and acted around him seemed so natural and enforced the belief that he was a girl. A number of times he tried to convince himself that the only reason he was a girl, that he was becoming female, was because of a questionable plan made by another guy. But the problem he found with this was that no matter how many times he tried to believe it, Abby found he couldn't and would often suffer another one of those weird mind slips.
A sigh escaped him and Sara stopped with her narrative and asked, "Problem?"
Easily, Abby covered it up and explained, "No, not really. I just almost painted the side of my toe instead," before grinning sheepishly over at the other girl.
Sara, after she had first flopped down on her bed, the shifted until she was sitting lotus style behind him, commented, "Girl. You don't to be doing that," in a mock tone of concern, which got a series of laughter from both of them, before loosely starting to run a brush Abby kept in his purse through his soft, light brown hair, which was now down past the midpoint of his back.
As he felt the other girl begin to work his hair into a braid, Abby shifted to make it easier for her to do and to get a better look at his toes. As he did this, the soft fabric of the loose, white crop top he was wearing brush against his bare breasts. No longer an A cup, the two mounds of flesh were a pair of pert B cup tits. And though his mind insisted he should be wearing a bra, like his mom taught him, he found himself thinking this was one of those times when it was okay to go bra-less.
"Especially as the crop top is open in the back and exposes most of my shoulders," he thought as he finished up with the second toe and began to work on the third one.
His boobs were but only one other problem he was having with what was happening to him, as well as one of the reasons he had decided not to fight the changes. After he had come to in the women's toilet, and found that he had A cup size tits, he was at first distraught. But then he started to get over it, figuring it was part of what was happening. But then it got worse when he lost time again and when he came to, finding himself in his bedroom, it was to find that his breasts now filled out the cups on his bra. Upset by what had happened, he tried to fight against it, but found he again suffered a couple more mind slips.
And each time, it was to find more of his body changed and the world around slightly different. He couldn't put his finger on all of what was different, yet, but he was certain that it was because of his transformation. Finishing his third toe, he began working on his fourth as he thought about the other ways his body had changed and ways reality had shifted to make him believe he was a girl.
In addition to his tits, his face, and the hair on his head, his body had started to take on more of the secondary characteristics girls developed when they went through puberty. His hips, butt and thighs becaming slightly more pronounced, whilst his waist became tighter, giving his body more a feminine curved look. Beyond that, he had started to grow body hair between his legs where his vagina would be, and a sparingly bit over his groin. Unsure how he was to take it, Abby had considered shaving it off, but at the last moment, changed his mind as, at the moment, it wasn't as much of a bother as everything else.
Outside of changes to his body, which also included his hands and feet, which looked smaller, daintier, feminine, the world around him was becoming more and more certain he was a girl. His mother, he realised, was the first clue of this, as she didn't bat an eye when she walked in on him, still looking like a dude, but wearing girl's clothing. From there, he guessed it seemed to ripple. He gained a teenage girl's bedroom at home, was registered to start senior high as a fifteen year old girl, the boy Thomas, who he been on two dates with now, treated him like he was a girl, pictures of a baby girl, and a girl at various ages, had started appearing around the house and in photo albums, the bathroom at home looked like it was used by a teenage girl, with a lot of feminine products cluttering up the sink top, placed in the shower, and stored under the sink. And it went on from there as more and more of reality seemed to change to assert he, Abby, was a girl.
Troubled by all of this, he mentally sighed. Finishing up with the smallest toe, he extended his leg out and wiggled his foot. From behind him, Sara, who was finishing up on the braid, told him, "Very nice. That shade works great on you," and as he turned his attention to his other foot, Abby thought for a moment he felt one of those slips start to come over him.
But, before it could, he relaxed, took a deep breath and said, "Yeah. I think so to," in a voice that was nowhere near a guy's. Reaching out and down to start on the other foot, he said, "We should find a good colour for you. I think your toes would look so cute with the nails painted," as he felt the mind slip pass and figuring that he was doing the right thing, he did nothing to fight it as he continued to act, talk, and think like a teenage girl hanging out with one of her besties.