A Very Cute Morning

Brendan had locked himself in his room late last night intending to take a shower and go to bed. Instead, he laid in bed for most of the night, feeling very small, and very closed in, before sleep took him at last. He woke with the previous day feeling abstract in his mind. It was as if the shock of his predicament had struck him, but glanced off instead of penetrating. It didn't feel real.

As he stirs in his warm comforter, delighting in his modest morning wood, he once again feels cute and mischievous. He feels like he usually does after spending the night as a girl, but the enjoyment only lasts for the brief moment that exists between sleep and waking. Thanks to the braid, his hair isn't in his face, but he soon realizes his pillowcase is covered in his black makeup, and the inside of his cheek, from where he laid his head, is painfully indented by the harsh wire and brackets from his braces. He slips out of bed, clumsily catching himself after the unexpected fall to the floor, and immediately picks up the gun from his bed side table. He presses the reverse button, but unsurprisingly the gun is still unresponsive. Grumbling, he throws it into the comforters of his bed, and stumbles to the bathroom.

The counter top comes up to the top of his belly as he leans in to stare closely at his reflection in the mirror. The girl that looks back looks far more gloomy than she had the previous night, and the crisp lines of her makeup have become smeared with sweat and sleep. Worse still, she is breaking out in acne thanks to the cake of foundation that had covered her face all night. Brendan rinses his face vigorously, but much of the makeup seems obstinate. No matter how much he washes, he still has a pale foundation, his eyes still seem to have a natural shadow, and his lashes remain almost too voluminous to seem real. It isn't until he looks at himself more closely that he realizes that it's real, all of it! His pale skin extends past his face, and now covers his entire body, his eyes really are naturally shadowy, and his eye lashes are as long as falsies. This is apparently one last trick of the gun before it had locked her in her fate. The change must have happened while Amy was applying the makeup, but simply gone unnoticed during their shopping spree.

As he becomes more alert, his bunny ears perk up, revealing the floral pattern on the velvety inside. He sighs, and scratches his tail, confirming that it too had lasted the night, and was still with him. Despite himself, he couldn't help but appreciate the girl in the mirror. She was adorable. He bites his lower lip playfully and makes a few cutesy expressions. His large dark doe eyes plead with the mirror, and his reflection melts his heart.

"Fuck..." He thought to himself. "These buck teeth really do complete the rabbit look." He laughs softly despite everything, and continues to wash up.

He takes his time brushing his tangled violet locks, wondering if he shouldn't prioritize a haircut, and if the gun had made his natural hair color purple, or if it was simply dyed. It was at this point that he'd usually remove the wig to shower, but instead he has to tie all his hair up on top of his head. "If I don't get a haircut..." He concludes. "I'll definitely need a shower cap."

His shower is brief. He was familiar enough with this body already to not distract himself with its peculiarities. Yes his hips were a bit wider, and his thighs a bit more plump, but that wasn't too unfamiliar. It just felt like his gait was a bit wider and more jiggly. It was his cute little dicklet that concerned him. Sure, he was glad to have it, and all of its 4 inches of glory, but in a way, it would have been easier to just be all female. This was definitely going to complicate things, just like it had the previous night.

At last he steps out into his living room in a robe that practically swallows him whole, and is surprised to find Amy, dressed in his sweats, preparing breakfast.

"Morning cutie." She offers with a tentatively cheerful tone.

"Morning." He responds more dryly.

"We, uh... Well we don't have to worry about work until tomorrow, so I thought I'd stay over and make you breakfast." He nods and scratches his ear. "And we can start figuring out how to handle this..." she pauses and searches for words long enough for the silence to become pronounced. "Or rather, how to fix this, right away!"

He hops up into his breakfast bar stool, where he's at least as tall as Amy, and maybe a little taller, and forces himself to smile. "Sounds like a plan."