Right?

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

The party was in two hours, and I still didn’t know what to do. Worse, any minute now, one of the guys could knock on my door to see what my plans were. I had nothing, not even an alibi. I paced the apartment.

A disguise? What if I pretended to be my roommate? He’d still get invited right? I could cover my face in bandages and say I was in an accident.

I shook my head as I opened the closet door. Stupid idea.

I just don’t want them to know it’s me.

My eyes landed on the pile of scarves on the shelf.

That… Now that is an idea.

I grabbed the bottle of X-Change pills I’d stashed behind them and glanced at the label: 24 hours, basic, no chance of pregnancy. No expiration date.

I held the bottle close to my chest. Slowly, I started to unscrew the cap.

“But what will I wear!?” I shouted to no one.

Before my brain could stop my hands, I popped a pill into my mouth and swallowed it.

“Oh shit!” I was still wearing my clothes! I ran into my bedroom, stripping as I went. There was no chance I’d damage them, but it still felt wrong to have anything on during the transformation. A transformation, I realized, I’d never seen. My ex had me take the pill in front of her, so she could watch my body change. She had said afterwards that that was the best part. Now, naked, standing in front of a mirror, I’d be able to see it for myself.

A ripple of skin rolled down my body like a wave heading for the shore. It reached the tips of my toes, and a weight inside me shifted. I shuddered.

As the hair on my head grew, the forest covering my chest and legs disappeared, leaving behind smooth, unblemished skin.

My shoulders narrowed, hips widened. I was definitely shrinking.

My penis retreated. My ex had called it a “boyfriend dick”, which certainly hadn’t felt like the compliment she’d meant it as. In moments, it was gone, with nothing in its place.

I turned. My ass filled out, dropping satisfyingly into my hands. I grabbed and jiggled it. It felt nice to touch a woman again, even if it was myself.

I looked perfectly androgynous, the concept art for some alien race from the 80’s. Then, the space between my legs split; my new pussy touched the air, causing me to shiver.

Another wave came; concentrated **** from across my body focused at my chest. I felt light of breath. There two mounds swelled. They heaved with such power that for a moment I panicked.

How big are my tits gonna be?

But, the result was anticlimactic. For all that fanfare, I produced two B cup breasts, just like the other times. My nipples stiffened. The starting gun went off in my head: I was a woman now, for the next 24 hours.

And I was incredibly sexy.

Short black hair fell just above my shoulders. Full lips, a button nose, high cheekbones, and sharp eyebrows made me look like a queen’s daughter. Or, I examined myself from another angle, some kind of witch-in-training.

I probably lost about three inches in the transformation, from a respectable (so I liked to think) 5’6” down to just barely 5’3”. Hardly any of my clothes were going to fit. The question returned to me with a new urgency: