Kelly suddenly found herself confronted with a very painful fact: She didn't like other women. And she didn't like BEING a woman. But at the same time, she was unfortunately female; even replacing the last evidence between her legs with proof to the contrary wouldn't change that. Actually being the man-Kelly in the mirror would be nice: he was a handsome, well-built man. And she knew all it would take there would be turning off a part of herself.
Stripping away her mental femininity was so much more terrifying a concept, and suddenly poisoned the whole thrill of becoming a man. Would she really be herself anymore? It was an oddly philosophical question. But she would have changed her body and her mind at that point--what would be left of *her?*
At the same time, returning to being a woman, expected to weep and to bleed and to obey and ultimately trade any personal success for servitude to a man and then to his children that tore their way out of her womb? That was an equally horrifying concept.
"I wish..I wish I had a chance to make up my mind. I wish I could see what it would be like to be a man who didn't remember or think of himself as ever having been a woman, and a woman who didn't give a damn that she was a woman. And I wish they were both still me and there were just the bare minimum changes to make it work."
And suddenly Kelly's head spun.
**********
Between her legs, her groin churned with an erotic warmth. She planted her feet apart , feeling the lips of her labia open one last time one last time before sealing forever. It felt *good*, and even as she gasped and squeezed her eyes shut, she was acutely aware of the pressure of a swelling clit.
**********
She shuddered as she looked in the mirror. She cut a figure of a handsome, ripped young man, and the sole holdout of her old body sat between two manly thighs and beneath a cut, masculine torso. And through the haze of the world adapting to her wish, she still felt a slight sinking feeling as she watched the tiny cleft reassert dominance over the rest of her body. Her bush thinned, lightened and softened, and the pleasure trail leading up to her navel disappeared like a puff of candlesmoke as her new six-pack softened, smoothed, and disappeared as her waist pulled in once more, even as her ass and thighs filled out with womanly curve that shrugged off the dark curls she'd wished minutes ago into being.
**********
It was like a fever dream. The face in the mirror was still hers, she thought, but the angle of the jaw changed a little, the brow became a bit more pronounced. Even as she thought to herself that she looked even more like the brother she never had, her madly dizzy thoughts began to wonder what she meant by that. Thoughts of being forced into ballet, and her mother smiling at her and trying to convince her it would be fun, rippled as though through a warped mirror. She remembered getting a baseball glove and going out for little league now, and her mother clapping from the stands.
She was distantly aware that her crotch had swollen, that her inner lips stretched and hung free in the air as her clitoris reached out a couple inches, and ached to keep growing and growing. It didn't quite look *right*, her new cock didn't look the right size, and there was something wrong with her balls. But she couldn't remember what was happening.
**********
The slow undoing of her changes continued. The muscle she'd wished into being had completely disappeared from her abdomen, and she felt an awkward cringe as she felt what was going to come next. The powerful pectorals she'd had seconds ago softened their contours as her shoulders pulled back in. For a moment, her chest was indistinguishable from some skinny boy's, but it was less than a second before she saw her nipples harden into peaks, and her areolas turned pink and began to grow again.
Her legs were almost perfectly hairless, soft and smooth, and her feet became uncomfortably dainty.
Her chest began to peak into breast buds, which in turn rounded, filled, and grew heavy as she became aware that her arms and hands had likewise become small and feminine once more. She couldn't hold back a smile when she noticed that the nails didn't grow any longer: She had said "never", hadn't she?
***********
Kelly's head pounded--not painfully, but certainly insistently--as her thoughts continued to rearrange. She--no, he--remembered dating girls in high school. Guys too, come to think of it. He was happily bisexual, with maybe a preference for the company of men both socially and otherwise. His mother had never liked it, but eh. She more or less grumbled about it, and whenever he brought a boyfriend home she made it a point to talk about all his ex-girlfriends.
As his head settled, he saw his cock, waving erect in the air. He thought, for a moment, that it looked a little small, but it continued to swell. That was odd, given that as hard as he felt he couldn't see how he could grow anymore. But as he blinked his eyes, and forgot completely that he had ever been a woman, or that anything at all had been strange moments ago, he reflected it was a pretty good size.
*********
Kelly saw her face soften and the stubble disappear as quickly as it had come. She sighed, and the woman in the mirror winced to hear the high, clear voice of a woman. She felt her hair tickling the back of her neck and shoulders as it grew long again--and then it hit. She blinked twice, supporting herself as a wave of dizziness hit, and then...
She didn't know what. She saw herself wholly naked in the mirror, and had the vague feeling something about it had disappointed her. But for the life of her, she had no idea what had bothered her so much. She looked good enough, felt healthy enough...as far as her body was concerned, she couldn't ask for more.