19 year old Sasha

You wake up to your alarm blaring - you've snoozed it three times and now you only have ten minutes to get ready for class. You bolt up from bed and dash to the bathroom and begin getting ready. Before you leave you look at yourself in the mirror and stare at the same old small, boyish frame, being 5"3 was not easy. Your blonde hair and soft features don't help either - you're still waiting for your first 'real' strand of body hair (peachfuzz doesn't count). The cherry on top was your name: Sasha. A common male name in Eastern Europe sounds like a girl's name here in North America. Teasing was not uncommon, from bullies, to friends, family, and the odd band kid trying to convince you to transition.

Before you get too caught up in your thoughts you remember class starts soon and so leave your college dorm as fast as possible. In your hurry you trip down the stairs and land face first into a woman's chest.

"W-woah, you alright bud?" It was Francisca from English class.

Sitting on the ground now, you look up.

"Sorry! Im so sorry! Im running late!"

Francisca helps you up. You notice she is not wearing her usual clothes. Instead of her typical tight jeans shes wearing shorts and her legs are... unshaven. Each to their own I guess. She seems noticeably bigger too, not that she was ever small before though.

"Where are you going early on a Saturday in such a hurry?"

"S-Saturday?"

"Yeah airhead. Its Saturday." Says Francisca with a chuckle.

You catch your breath and sigh. Why haven't you disabled weekend alarms yet?

"You wanna go have breakfast?" Asks Francesca, in a strange tone. Its almost as if she's being shy.

"Sure, lets go."

After sitting down, you look around. Its not just Francesca, but all the women around you look... different. Wider shoulders, more visible body hair, male clothes, and male posture.

"Is there and event today? Why are all the girls dressed like that?"

"Dressed like how?" Francesca looks confused.

"You know, shorts and tennis shoes and stuff... is there an event or something?"

"You have a strange sense of humor."

You laugh it off. As you look around and come to your senses you begin to have a clue as to what has happened, not that it makes your situation any easier to explain. Women on campus wouldn't just up and all dress in men's clothes, forego shaving, build muscle, and act differently just for an elaborate prank or stunt.

Now that you notice, men look different too. Smaller, tighter clothes, and an overall... effeminate posture. Oh.