"What the hell?!" Jennifer screamed as she shot to her feet. Her clothes completely disappeared and she was left standing naked in her living room. "Where did they go?!" She looked around with the small hope that she'd see them crumpled in a pile on the floor or on the couch, as if they had casually slipped completely off her body.
Her attention was brought back to the curse as she felt something crawling around her privates. Her hands shot to between her legs, and she discovered a small black pair of panties. They weren't hers, as hers were all white. These were black with a thin tracing of white lace at the edges. Very strange. And stranger still, she couldn't get them off. The fabric refused to allow her to grip it, or even get a finger between it and her skin.
Next, she watched with wide eyes as her breasts were covered by another black garment. This was a bra to match her panties, black with white lace around the cups and four thin black straps to hold it in place. With it on, her bust size actually appeared smaller than it normally looked.
"How is this happening? The curse? That's impossible!" She shouted as if her words would somehow correct her situation. Meanwhile, her limbs were becoming draped in black-and-red striped tubes that rolled themselves over her arms and legs. She now had thigh-high stockings and fingerless arm warmers that ran halfway up her upper arms. She couldn't pull these off, either. Meanwhile, her fingernails were growing out over an inch long colored a shiny solid black. A little red heart appeared on each nail.
A skirt popped out of her waist. It wasn't a normal skirt, of course. This was a ridiculous ruffled, lacy thing with four layers, giving it a bit of volume. The outermost layer was black, the next was red, then black and then finally red again for the innermost. The red layers were ruffled and forced the dress to stick out at quite an angle. The fabric was only about a foot long, as well, so any good breeze would likely give the world a peek at her panties.
Humiliating as this was, the changes were far from over. A black vest appeared on her. It was form-fitting, tucked into her skirt, and had a great deal of lace cris-crossing its way up the divide in the center. It pushed her breasts up, making up a little of the volume they had lost. The attempt they were making was obvious, however. Nobody at school would be fooled.
Jennifer choked for a second. A black collar had appeared on her neck, tightening it a little. A little round silver tag was on it. She could tell because it rested coldly on her skin, but she couldn't see it to read whatever might be inscribed on it. More accessories appeared in rapid succession. Her ears pricked several times as little silver earrings and studs popped themselves in. Three rings stacked up the side of her left ear, while three studs lined themselves up on her right. A silver nose ring grew at the side of her right nostril, and two silver rings appeared on her left eyebrow.
At this point Jennifer stumbled to the bathroom to see what was happening. She had to be careful not to slip on the floor with her stocking feet. She gasped when she looked in the mirror. Her skin had paled considerably. Black eyeshadow and lipstick had magically applied themselves, and a dark blue tattoo had appeared on her left cheek. It was a small outline of a storm cloud with a lightning bolt cutting its way out the bottom. Her collar's tag glinted and she saw now that it read simply "JENN" in overindulgent cursive.
Then she noticed her blond hair was darkening. Her bangs started to grow rapidly, blocking her vision. She pulled the longer strands behind her ears so she could see. Soon her hair was all one length and growing as a whole. It bunched itself up into groups, twisting and gathering. Soon she had three pigtails, one in back and one on each side. All of them were jet black with thin cherry red streaks. They were perfectly straight until about halfway down her back, at which point the pigtails started to curl to match their namesake. The curly tips reached down to her knees.
"This is ridiculous!" Jennifer shouted at herself. "Who in their right mind would go out looking like this? This isn't fair!"
She would have continued ranting, but she suddenly lost her balance. Her striped arms and curly hair flailed about for several seconds until she managed to grab the sink and steady herself. She looked to her feet at the source of the problem.
A pair of black shoes had appeared. These shoes weren't normal sneakers. In keeping with her outfit, they were smooth black doll-like boots with a rounded toe and a thick sole. As Jennifer watched, the tops of the boots crawled up her stocking legs. They reached up almost to her knees and magically laced themselves up. She was rather relieved she didn't have to do all of that lengthy lacing herself, but that relief was far outnumbered by her desperation to get all of this ugly stuff off. She continued pulling at every conceivable inch of the outfit, but nothing was giving. She wasn't even putting tears or even creases in it. It was all skin-tight and stuck like glue.
As she leaned against the counter to sigh and catch her breath, she noticed something else. The counter was rising. She looked around at the bathroom, and then at the mirror. She was shrinking! Her feet shifted for a second, and when she looked down she saw that her boots' thick soles were getting even thicker. They were turning into platforms, as if to compensate for Jennifer's diminishing stature.
Not that it was helping very much. Jennifer was shrinking faster than the boots were pushing her up. The rate of shrinking and rising combined to throw her off balance once again, and Jennifer tumbled onto the floor. She continued to feel the shrink proceeding slowly, and her boots became heavier and heavier with each new inch they added to their soles.
Finally, Jennifer could tell that it had stopped completely. The platforms were at an impressive size now, making her wonder with fear how short she really had gotten. Her clothes had shrunk with her, but that was a small consolation. She clumsily maneuvered her sizable boots to a position where she could stand on them, then slowly picked herself up. The sink was several inches higher than it should have been. Jennifer guessed she was somewhere around five feet tall, even with the boost from her new platforms. The heels looked seven or eight inches thick, making her real height an abysmal four-four or four-five. Her hair hadn't seemed to shrink with her, either. The curly ends of her three pigtails now dangled a precarious two inches from the floor. Without her boots, they'd be dragging considerably.
She regarded the sad, pathetic image in the mirror. A pale little girl who probably never went outside, never made friends and certainly didn't belong on the cheerleading squad. Her pathetic size and modest rack were made even more ridiculous by her obvious attempts to compensate with her push-up vest and huge platform boots.
Jennifer tried to fight back the tears welling up in her eyes, but quickly lost the battle. She was a freak, and soon everyone would know it. She couldn't even curse Kyle back, the little prick. He had doomed her to a life of humiliation.
Her despair and aggravation worsened when she looked back at her face. Her tears had caused her eyeshadow to run, making little black streaks under her eyes. She quickly rubbed them away, and oddly enough the streaks didn't smudge. She wet her finger with water from the tap and vigorously rubbed them. Nothing. Now she had these ugly tear marks on top of everything else.
The school bus honked outside. Jennifer panicked. She couldn't go! Not like this! But she remembered the dare Kyle placed upon her. As if on cue, her boots clacked to attention and she automatically hustled out into the living room. Her backpack had apparently changed to match her outfit, as it was in the shape of a red heart. It was one of those small fashion backpacks, not meant to hold a high-schooler's entire workload, and so she also had to pick up a stack of textbooks on the chair after putting it on. Carrying that weight and walking in her tall boots made her gait awkward and easy to make fun of, had Jennifer seen any other person in such a state. She wasn't in the mood for taunting now. She was trying with all her will to stop from opening the front door and running out to catch the bus, and she was failing miserably.