Once again, curiosity wins over restraint. You call out to your teacher, ask to go to the bathroom, to which your teacher rolls her eyes and continues drawling on about calculus or physics or something. You walk at a steady pace to the men's room, and then head to a stall. I'm just going to try it on, and then put it back into the closet, you think to yourself.
Fortunately, nobody's in there. You duck into a stall, and then close the door, and pull the skirt out of your pocket. Its smoothness gives you goosebumps. You pull down your pants, and slide off your shoes. Then, slowly, you slide the skirt on. It goes down to about your knees. It does seem a little loose, but then you find a concealed zipper. The waistband forms onto your stomach rather decently, but that's not what gets your attention. What does is the slightly chilly feeling on your legs that you're not quite used to. It, combined with the strange texture of the pleated skirt, makes you feel... girly. You giggle. Then it hits you.
Something doesn't seem quite right.
You prepare to take it off, but suddenly find the waist band digging into your stomach a little more. You don't quite know what's going on, but as you try to pull the zipper down, it gives a faint shock to your hands. You yelp slightly, and keep your hands away from the band, while it continues to constrain you, churning your insides. You try to hold yourself up, but your knees collapse inward, and you fall to the floor of the stall.
Your vision blurs for a moment, and then you see thick black lines coming into your view. Further inspection, and you realize you've grown hair! You almost scream again, but cover your mouth with a hand, knowing that any suspicious sounds will draw attention to the strangely locked bathroom. The hair, silky smooth, begins to grow down your back. Your hands are buzzing, and at first you think you're shaking from anxiety, but then you realize they're shrinking. Each finger lengthens out slightly, leaving them long, slender, and soft. Each fingernail becomes daintily cut, and then coated with a thin sheen of nail strengthener.
You feel your shoulders collapse in and your arms weakening. All the muscles in your system have been reduced, with the exception of your calves. Your stomach fat has also been reduced, evidenced by the continually crushing skirt. You moan again, but it sounds higher in register. You start putting the pieces of evidence into place: you're becoming a girl.
You feel a tightening in your lower region, and you yelp (in an almost prepubescent manner) as your manhood begins to shrink back into you. You try to touch your skirt again, but this time, an electric shock zaps your dainty hand back, and you feel the changes accelerate. Crap.
You stumble out of the stall, and try to regain footing, but your legs seem to be lengthening, while your torso shortens slightly. You feel more of your skin against the air, and realize your skirt is now only covering down to your fingertips. You feel your face transforming, and you look into the mirror as your nose shrinks, your eyelashes grow out, and your lips plump up slightly. Your jawbone thins, and your cheeks carry a bit of pout. Your adams apple disappears, and your ears shrink slightly. Your hair, now black as night, accentuates the cute, girlishness of your face as you continue to change.
Another strange development takes place as your skin starts to darken. You feel your body hair shrink into yourself, as well as your manhood, which has finally slipped into you. Another gurgling sensation from your lower region, and you feel only emptiness where your tool used to be. You can feel your underwear tightening as they become a pair of panties, and you gasp again as you feel a sudden sensitivity kick in with your new slit. Your thighs become toned, while your butt gains a little fat. Your abs tighten, becoming toned and giving your stomach a flat appearance. Your feet are growing smaller, and your socks change, shrinking and becoming striped. As you look up to the mirror, you can see the changes have made you look a little... Indian...
Then an itching sensation tickles your chest. Your shirt begins to stretch as breasts start to grow. "No..." you moan in an alto voice, and you try to push them back with your hands, to no avail. They grow out, almost to the point where your hands can't contain them, becoming slightly sensitive. Then you feel a tightening on your chest, and your shirt dips to reveal you are now wearing a bra. Your shirt becomes thinner, but stretcher, and your sleeves slide up, hugging your skin and showing your toned arms. Finally, a necklace appears around you, and the tiny locket falls in between your new boobs.
And then everything stops. You take a quick, deep breath. This did not just happen, did it? You close your eyes... open them. You're still a girl. A cute one, at that. As far as you can tell, you've become an indian teenager, rather cute, not an absolute bombshell, but beautiful nonetheless. Your school girl outfit seems perfect, your skirt and polo matching in dark navy color. You're shorter than before, but not by much, but you are much thinner... Wait a minute...
It only takes you a moment to realize that you recognize yourself. You've become Anjali, the leader of the girls tennis team!
You can't have possibly impersonated her, could you? You start to hyperventilate as your breath quickens and your heart races. Your mind reels as you try to figure out what's going on. You look back to the stall, and notice there are no urinals. The bathroom must have changed to become a girl's. You notice your pants slowly warping and turning into a purse, and your shoes shifting to form a pair of black converse, perfect for your new shrunken feet.
You slide against the wall of the bathroom, taking shallow breaths, until you finally calm down. You're Anjali, now what?