Already nude, Jennifer turned on the shower and stepped inside. Only now did she notice the weight that was missing from her chest, she was a C-cup after all. The thought struck Jennifer like a sucker punch; she WAS a C-cup and now she was a no-cup. She hugged herself tightly, able to touch her shoulder blades behind her back with either hand. Tears began to roll down Jennifer's face, only to be lost in the rush of water from the faucet.
"Why is this happening to me?," she thought. The turned the thought over and over in her mind. She wasn't a very nice girl, in fact, she was downright mean. She was a senior and she liked running with the popular crowd. While she never actually enjoyed playing pranks on nerds and freshmen, her friends expected it from her and often goaded her on. Jen was also aware that because of her status as a bitch, she'd never be able to make new friends if the popular clique shunned her. "And they will shun me," she said aloud, "when they find out that I keep my breasts in a box under the sink!"
Jennifer thought of the other girls in her clique; they called themselves the curvaceous quartet. Stephanie Stevens was a follower. She wasn't all that rich or smart, but her fantastic figure and electric green eyes secured her position in the clique, providing she never contradicted the other girls. Suki Chen was the beautiful and busty Japanese princess. Her father had made a killing in the international business world, which meant that Suki was always decked out in the latest fashions that showed off her milky skin and larger than average Asian assets. Suki often came up with the ideas to torture the freshmen and freaks, but Desiree was the obvious leader of the group. Desiree Desmond was known as the Pam Anderson of Glendale High School; she had the best figure and set ALL the rules. Desiree had final say about who was "in" and who was "out," and Jen knew that she'd be dressed down by Desiree the moment she showed up at school looking like a child from the neck down.
Still sobbing, Jennifer lathered herself up with a lufa and worked her way down her body. Unaware even that she had done it, she gently scrubbed the entire area of her waist and began working on her thighs. She stopped suddenly; the absence of any sort of sensation was a dead giveaway. Still staring in disbelief, she cautiously ran her hand down over her stomach and over the blank expanse of skin that had once been her vagina. Loosing her breasts would ruin her social life, but loosing her vagina was even more disturbing.
"How am I even going to pee," she thought to herself. Just then, Jen heard the faint sound of the doorbell. Turning off the faucet, she listened closely, praying she was just hearing things; what would she do if someone actually came to the door? After what seemed like an eternity, she heard the doorbell again. There was no mistaking it now, someone was outside. Jen desperately wanted to understand what had happened to her, but, at the same time, she was afraid to discuss it with anyone. She decided to put on a very thick bathrobe and at least take a look out the peephole.
Walking to the door as silently as she could Jen saw that she did indeed have a visitor. It was...