You wake up in the morning, and you feel your tits rubbing against the covers. You groan with annoyance at the new sensetivity of your chest and niples. You get up, and go to the restroom. You look in the mirror, and see a very messy, red-headed, naked, and quite sexy 18-year old girl. Your folks are coming over, and you might as well try a little for them. You don't want to cause anymore embaresment. You start trying to think what a normal girl would look like:
They'd have their hair combed out, a skirt or shorts on. They'd be carrying a purse with lots of different girly stuff in it. Ug...this would be so weird. They would have make up on...ew. You looked around your apartment. There was only a bunch of boxers and mens clothes everywhere. You've tried wearing those out in public before. So you decide to go out to buy all this stuff, although it sounds really weird. But first, you have to take a shower. You turn the shower on, and wait for it to get off. While you wait, you spend a little bit of time gazing at yourslef in the mirror. If you were a guy, this is the kind of lady you'd love. You get in, and you feel the hot water run down your now sensitive boobs. You scrub your body with soap, and wash all of that hair. Then you get out, and dry off. You throw on the clothes you wore yesterday, and go out. You go to sears, and grab the cheapest purse you can find. Then you grab more pairs of bras and panties, figuring that you'll probably need them. You grab a skirt, just to look nice for your folks, but you refuse to get a dress. You grab some lipstick, and some other makeup stuff, and drive home. When you get home, you clean up your apartment, and then start to try to aply the make up.
"How do they get this dang stuff on?" you say, as you try to put the lipstick on. Three times you fail and have to start over. When your donw, you throw all the stuff in your new purse. You put a skirt on. Then you hear a knock on the door. You nervously open the door. Your mother stands outside, and your father behind her.
"Hi..." you sheepishly wave your hand.
"Who on earth are you?" said your mother. "Has the boy gone and let a girl move in with him?"
"No! No, that's not it" you say. "I'm not who you think I am?"
"Then who are you?" she asked again. "
"I'm your son" you say.
"Your body begs to differ" she said.
"I know" I said, "It's kind of hard to explain. Come in, I have to tell you something." You lead them in, and then start your story, from the beggining when you turned into a bra, and then the sports store, and then when you woke up yesterday.
"Do...you believe me...?" you say sheepishly.