John begins to feel strange

John shook his head to wake himself up. He looked down at himself, how immaculately the pleats were shaped and how consistently they lay across him. He felt both constrained and free at the same time, as the tight fabric felt amazing on his skin, but also gave him such freedom of movement all the same. He took a step towards the mirror and, in the corner of his mind, wondered if he had felt his hips sway a bit during his approach.

Either way, he marveled at his reflection. With the fabric up front, he managed to cover much of his stomach, and even though he had a beard, the clothes almost looked _natural _on him. He couldn't quite put it into words, but feelings of pride and comfort washed over him. He posed a little bit, sticking his left hip out and resting his hand on there, and chuckled to himself.

Suddenly, his face began to feel itchy. While he posed, he reached up and casually brushed his beard, only to gasp as he saw the hair begin to fall out. Confused, he began to itch more of his face and horrified, watch as more and more of the hair fell from his face. At the same time, the more his arms moved, the more their hair began to get shaken loose as well and it was all John could do not scream in confusion.

Underneath that hair, the skin looked far darker than it should have; after all, shouldn't it have been pale? Yet, there before his eyes, half of his face was a dark tan brown. "What the hell . . . ?" John mumbled in disbelief as the skin along his arms began to darken as well. With horror, he saw that it began to spread all over his skin, his hands, his fingers. A quick look at the mirror confirmed that it was spreading along his face as well. He stumbled back, but couldn't look away, as he saw the hair on his head begin to grow and with each strand, begin to blacken until his vision was blocked by a curtain of silky ebony.

At that exact moment, he began to feel so, so warm. While the outfit and its material felt cool, his body temperature began to rise and his muscles spasmed. He almost heard a soft crack around his pelvis and he felt his stance shift. Before his eyes, he thought that he saw the sari widen a bit around his hips, as if they were getting bigger. He felt another spasm and fell to the ground, where he landed with a thud; however, he couldn't tell if it was just the extra fabric or what, but he felt like there was more padding between him and the ground than usual.

By now, he was beginning to breath heavy; between the stress and the warmth, he needed as much as air as he could. With each breath, he began to feel his chest tighten. It began to get harder to breath, as with each inhale, his chest felt like it got heavier, and the exhales did nothing to relieve it. A glance down almost made him scream. He had been feeling like the skin on his chest was expanding and one glance down showed him that the cups that had been empty seemed to be rounding out. With every breath, the top seemed more tight and filled out. With every breath, he could feel the weight his chest increase, and his new breasts resting on top of his skin.

"I. . . have breasts . . ." he murmured in disbelief, his voice huskier than he remembered, as he watched the neckline began to stick out, as it had been designed to do. The skin that was visible in his newfound cleavage was as tan and brown as the rest of him now. With a shaking hand, he gently cupped one of his breasts and gasped at the feelings to flowed through him. His fingers gingerly touched his expanded nipple, which hardened immediately and the pleasure he felt made him bite his expanding lower lip.

While the pleasure radiated from his chest, the warm around his pelvis exploded as he felt his penis harden. He brushed the nipple again and his penis tried to valiantly poke through skirt and sari pleats, but to no avail--but regardless, John couldn't stop himself. Between the adrenaline from his fear and the pleasure from his breasts, he needed release. NOW. He tried to reach a tan hand through the pleats with one hand and with the other continued to play with the breast. Before his hand could even reach into the skirt, he felt himself explode and a loud, feminine moan escaped his mouth as he felt the best orgasm of his life wash over him.

Everything tingled, especially his penis. He bucked his hips several times as the orgasms' waves crashed into him; with each wave, his penis shrank a bit. Distracted, John didn't even notice when it shrank past its normal size and, with his testicles, drew within himself. Once the last wave passed, he panted as he just lay on the floor, feeling his new breasts bounce a bit on his chest with each breath.

Eventually, he reached a sweaty hand into the pleats, under the skirt and gasped when he felt a mound instead of his usual bulge. Somehow, given the rest of the changes, it seemed like the least of his worries and he couldn't summon the energy to panic any more than he had.

John then rolled to his stomach and, despite being distracted by the feeling of his breasts against the floor, slowly pushed himself to his feet.

In the mirror, he saw the most beautiful Indian woman he had ever laid his eyes on. Her dark skin and curly hair looked amazing, her brown eyes were wide and despite the panic in them, thoughtful; her tan lips were plump and her face rounded. Her chest looked to be a D cup, and while he was still around 5 ft 10, she wore it well. Her rounded hips fit the sari perfectly and the pleats remained in place, despite everything.

"Is that me?" John said; given everything else, he wasn't surprised that he had an apparent Indian accent. "What the fuck just happened?"

Before he could figure it out though, he heard his phone ring from his pants, resting where he had cast them aside what felt like hours ago.