Janet tossed her brown hair behind her shoulders as she leaned down and pulled up the long neck of one of the boots to straighten it, then carefully pointed her foot and slipped it down inside. The soft, artificial leather creaked quietly as her leg gave it shape. She zipped it up along the side using the large metal ring attached to its zipper, then tightened the numerous buckles. She repeated the process for the other boot, then carefully stood up off the bench.
She wriggled her toes in their cavernous spaces at the tips of the footwear. She had picked up the design she wanted, but was well aware that the size was way out of her league. Three sizes too big... but she had suddenly realized that big was what she wanted to feel.
She took slow steps toward the mirror set up in the changing room and examined how she looked in the relatively massive boots. They were designed to end below the knee, but they fully engulfed hers. The non-glossy black leather looked high-quality, though the buckles had to be done so tightly that the material was heavily wrinkled. The real kicker for Janet was the thick platform that formed the boots' base. It gave her a good three inches of lift, with a slightly raised heel on top of that. The sole was all one piece, with no heel cut out of it. Paired with the subtle angle of the heel, it gave the boots an androgynous utility.
"If only they fit me," Janet muttered to herself. Except on the "me," her voice cracked. She cleared her throat. "That was weird..." This time, the entire sentence came out in the lower timber of an older, huskier woman, or a tween boy. "What's going on?"
Dizziness overtook her suddenly. She leaned into the mirror to keep herself from falling, afraid of twisting her ankles in the ill-fitting boots. Dark hair fell over one side of her face and hung on the arm bracing her against the mirror.
She gasped, trying to pull more oxygen into her bloodstream. Her perspective started to stabilize. Looking down, she could see her knees rising clear out of the top of the boots. They were truly rising; the boots weren't shrinking. She could tell because her hand on the mirror hadn't moved, but the angle of her arm was changing. She was growing!
The leather made shifting sounds again. Beneath the straps, its wrinkles smoothed out. Her feet grew inside of it. She felt her big toes just slightly rub against the end of the boots. The boots now hugged her legs tightly, but not uncomfortably. The profile of her legs inside them were quite on the thick side, but as she continued to examine herself, she realized it was because her legs were actually wider.
Her hips drew inward with a few quiet pops, bringing her thighs closer together. As they drew in, a tightness concentrated in the groin of her jeans. She felt something pull out of her and push against them, creating a bulge. She moaned, partly from realizing what it could be, and partly from the uncomfortable pressure the new organ was under.
It took Janet a second to realize the noises she was making. She clapped a hand over her mouth. Her skin felt prickly. In fact, her whole chin itched. Another moan escaped her, muffled by her hand. It sounded deeper. She swallowed hard, feeling something bob up and down in the front of her neck. She moaned again, sounding deeper still.
With an intense feeling of relief, her jeans gave out. But they hadn't ripped open... instead, they shifted to a looser material and a masculine cut, darkening to black. Her shirt reconfigured itself as well. It had begun to look baggy in the upper portion and skintight in the lower. Now it perfectly matched her broad, flat chest. Like her pants, it changed color to black, and then a design appeared of a rock band Janet had only barely heard of, set against blotches of white spray paint.
With an outfit matching her new body, the discomfort and disorientation subsided. Janet felt much more secure on her feet. She pulled herself away from the mirror and took stock of what had happened.
Her reflection was of a tall man with long, dark brown hair, wearing a tee shirt, pants and boots signifying someone who was into heavy metal and didn't mind standing out in a crowd. The dainty earrings he had been wearing were gone, replaced by thick silver rings pierced into the upper part of his lobes. To match his hair (the only thing that didn't seem changed) he sported a thick brown goatee. It gave him an appearance of someone in his mid-20s, but somehow he could tell that he hadn't really gotten older. Although his face no longer had any makeup, it didn't seem all that rough, so a little of that college-age youth was still there.
"What the heck just happened?" he asked his reflection, as if it would tell him. The low pitch of his voice startled him. "Woah."
He looked around, marveling at how small the room looked now. It was still bigger than an average changing room, but from his new perspective, he wondered how much different the world would seem in this body.
Janet picked up his size-9 trainers, as well as a black trenchcoat that was lying on the bench, and opened the door to the changing room. He took his first steps back onto the store floor, his feet thudding heavily on the thin carpet. Only then did he realize that it hadn't occurred to him to try changing back by putting on his old sneakers. He paused and looked back at the changing room entryway.
"Can I help you, sir?" a voice called from somewhere on his right. "Sir?"
Janet turned sharply, his hair flipping in the air. "Sorry! Are you talking to me?"
A woman wearing a polo shirt with the store's logo smiled up at him. "Yes, sir. Those boots look great on you. If you're ready to check out, I can ring you up."
"Uhh...," Janet stuttered. He didn't have his purse. It wasn't with his things when he left the room. He just had the old trainers and a trenchcoat that he'd never seen before.
"Check the jacket pockets," the woman said helpfully. "Contents tend to shift between wearings."
Janet was too flustered to ask questions. He rummaged through the folds of fake leather for a bit before just throwing the coat on so he could easily access all of its pockets. His large hand finally closed around a wallet. "Got it. Thanks."
The woman smiled and cheerfully waved him to follow her. "Come on over to the register." Janet proceeded to buy the boots, relieved to find his wallet contained all of the money and cards that it should have. The woman said nothing of the cost of the trenchcoat. Janet didn't speak up about it, since it felt like it was as expensive as his new boots, if not moreso.
His credit card was returned to him, along with a receipt to sign. Janet signed for the transaction while the saleswoman put his original shoes in a box and placed it in a plain paper bag. The saleswoman glanced at the receipt. "Janet. That's a handsome name." She winked at him. Janet felt a heat rise from his shirt collar and shifted his coat nervously. "I hope you take full advantage of your purchase. Please come back any time."
Janet walked out into the alley, breathing in the cool air. He felt instantly calmer. Emerging onto the street, a breeze kicked up his long hair. He stroked his goatee as he walked along, dazed at what had gone on in the last 15 minutes. He was a man. He looked like a punk. And despite his nervousness, he was more okay with that than he ever would have expected.