Ethan stared at Melissa’s youthening body, a worried expression on his face.
Melissa looked down and realized, with some panic, that her breasts were smaller than before; they were deflating quickly as she was being robbed of puberty.
“Ethan! Make this stop! I’m getting too young! I don’t want to be a pReTeEn!” Melissa’s voice squeaked on the last word.
“That’s… that’s not the problem, Melissa,” stammered Ethan.
Melissa’s view of the room suddenly dropped several inches, and she doubled over, shrieking in sudden startlement as she felt heat and a sudden stretching feeling center on her crotch. “What is HaPpEnInG?” She cleared her throat. “…happening to mE?”
Just then, the bizarre stretching sensation stopped end the heat receded. Melissa turned and faced the mirror, while Ethan just stared in horror.
Reflected back at her was the image of a very young teenager… a very young teenage BOY! Sure enough, dangling between her legs was a set of unimpressive male genitalia, with just the beginnings of a crest of hair above it. Her breasts, formerly 34DD knockers, were reduced to the beginnings of muscular pecs. Her face was just on the cusp between the roundness of childhood and the angularity of manhood. It was a beautiful, but delicate face. Ethan came up behind her and she realized just how short she had become; she came up to Ethan’s shoulder.
She… he… screamed, and the voice that came out was as high as any youth choir soprano. She touched her chest, and the reflection caressed two puffy nipples, so common to teenage boys whose testosterone levels suddenly spike beyond their bodies’ ability to handle it. Unbidden, the reflection’s new genitalia sprang to attention.
“I… I… what did this dO? And why is my VoIcE so funny?”
Ethan, regaining his composure, replied, “It appears to have turned you into a boy. About a 13-year-old one, which is why your voice is scratchy.”
“No! No! I can’t be a boy! I wanted Carlyle! He won’t like me! This has to change! Change me back! I can’t go through puberty as a boy!”
“I can’t help you. There’s no antidote, Melissa… uh… Mel.”
“Oh God, don’t you DaRe call me Mel! I hAtE that nickname.”
“I can’t call you Melissa!”
The former Melissa looked down at the 13-year-old, absolutely male body. “Shit, you’re RiGhT! Call me… uh… Matthew.”
Just then…