Rush everyone into the family bathroom before anyone else sees

Westfield Galleria Food Court, Crescent Bay, at 3:05 PM on Saturday June 14th, 2025.

You grab Derek's wrist with one hand and Evan grabs Tyler's, and the five of you make a beeline for the family bathroom. Your heart pounds as you pass a middle-aged woman whose eyes widen at the sight of Derek's barely-contained chest, then Tyler's milk-stained tank top peeking from beneath your jacket.

"Almost there," Marcus mutters, walking slightly ahead to reach the door first. He yanks it open and holds it while the rest of you pile inside.

The bathroom is larger than a standard stall—meant for parents with multiple kids. There's a toilet, a sink with a wide counter, and a changing table mounted to the wall. Fluorescent lights buzz overhead, reflecting off white tile. The lock clicks with a satisfying thunk as Marcus secures it behind you.

"Oh thank fuck," Derek gasps, leaning back against the tiled wall. The motion makes her massive breasts thrust forward, and she immediately crosses her arms beneath them—then flinches and drops her arms. "Shit, even touching myself feels..."

Tyler spins in a little circle, your jacket flaring out around her petite frame. She's still giggling, her eyes unfocused and dreamy. "This bathroom is so boring. Can't we go somewhere more fun? Somewhere with more people?" She bites her lip, swaying her hips. "I feel really, really weird, you guys. Like tingly all over. Especially down... there." She presses her thighs together.

Evan runs his hands through his hair, looking overwhelmed. "Okay. Okay, we need to figure this out. The machine said males only, right? So it's definitely some kind of gender-swap thing."

"No shit, Sherlock," Derek snaps, then immediately winces. Her hand drifts down between her legs, pressing against the crotch of those tiny shorts. "Sorry, I just... everything feels so intense. Like every nerve is on fire."

Marcus is staring openly now, his eyes roaming over both transformed bodies. The bulge in his jeans is obscenely obvious. "So Tyler saw a timer? How long does Derek have to stay like this?"

"Seventy-one hours and change," you answer. "That's almost three full days."

Derek's eyes go wide. "Three DAYS? I have to walk around with these giant fucking tits for three days?"

Tyler suddenly pulls your jacket off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. The wet spots on her tank top have spread even further—her nipples are clearly visible through the soaked pink fabric, and clear liquid drips steadily from both. "My boobies won't stop leaking," she says with another giggle. "It feels so good though. Like they're all full and heavy and they wanna... I dunno, they wanna be touched or sucked or something."

The bathroom suddenly feels very small and very warm.

Marcus adjusts himself again, not even trying to hide it anymore. "This is the most fucked up thing that's ever happened to us."

"You think?" Derek's voice drips with sarcasm, but her breathing has quickened. She's still pressing her hand between her legs, a distant, confused look in her hazel eyes. "I don't understand what's happening to me. I feel... empty? Like I need something but I don't know what."

Tyler moves closer to you, looking up with those wide dark eyes. Her small hand reaches out and presses against your chest. "Danny, do you feel weird too? Because I feel really, really weird. And hot. So hot."