End of class

The ringing bell, voices, and the shuffling of students excitedly leaving the classroom all threaten to stir you from your slumber. Through half closed eyes you watch as the classroom empties. You notice your erection has faded, warmth no longer throbbing against your leg. There's the taste of bitter coffee in your mouth, and you're vaguely aware that you're now facing the doorway of the classroom, instead of looking towards the front of the class.

It takes several moments to shake away the grogginess. Noticing the classroom is empty now, except for one desk that has an opened text book on it. You rub your eyes, then take a sip of the cold coffee sitting on your desk. You're silently cursing at how gross the cold, cooled coffee is before you realize that it's your desk you're looking at. That's your opened text book, where your head had been resting.

As adrenaline courses through your body and you fight back the rise of panic, you set down the coffee cup. You have no idea how you ended up at Ms. Bickler's desk, with her cold cup of coffee. You also have no idea how your nails got painted and manicured like hers.

The taste of coffee turns to the taste of bile as you take note of your hands. Your long bony digits are now cute little fingers, with cared for nails, on soft smaller hands.

"What the-" you start, then clamp your small hands over your mouth as your high pitched voice of your teacher escapes from your mouth.

"No, no, no, wake up dude. You're dreaming. Don't freak out, just wake yourself up." You explain to yourself, in your now feminine voice, the voice of Ms. Bickler.

You close your eyes for a second, then slowly open them. You're still seated at your teacher's desk, facing the classroom door. Your breathing picks up pace, coming in short, shallow breaths. This causes your chest to heave, making your breasts rise and heave.

My breasts, you think, as you look down and watch your tits move with your breathing. "No fucking way!" You scream, your head spinning. You don't know whether to freak out or get excited. Your hands reach up and cover your breasts, sending even more confusion through your boggled mind. On one hand you have no idea what happened or where the real you is. On the other hand, you have you hands on Ms. Bickler's boobs.

Before you can panic more, or take advantage of the creepy opportunity before you, Mr. Ryder sticks his head in the classroom door. "You OK, Stacy?"

Your eyes meet your English literature teacher's, and you instinctively jerk your hands back to your desk. "Yeah, James. Just, spilled some coffee, no biggie." You say, unsure of how you knew Mr. Ryder's first name, and still a bit freaked out by your new voice.

The man in the doorway smiles at you, making you aware of how handsome he is. You never found yourself attracted to him, or any other guy for that matter, before. You take in his form, admiring the shape of his arms, and the way his messy hair falls on his head. Whatever is going on, you must have acquired more than just Ms. Bickler's body. This only adds to the confusion, but you find yourself returning the smile.

"OK, then," he says, smiling wider, then he adds, "it's Friday, get out of here."

You mutter something about doing just that, then watch him leave. You find yourself checking out his butt as he turns away. Shaking such thoughts away, you stand and head towards what was your desk until just recently.

Your textbook is opened, but that's all that was left behind. Your backpack and anything else is gone. Did you switch bodies? Is Ms. Bickler out running around in your form? It was too much to take in just yet. You'd have to figure something out, but for right now you decide to get out of the school before someone else happens upon you.