The family arriving home

The Masons' car pulled into the driveway of the their two-story house and parked. First out of the car was Alice Mason, the mother and the only one who was the same person as when they'd left home, not to mention the only one still wearing clothes. "Come on kids," she called into the car, "I know it's rough but you can't stay in the car forever."

The back driver's-side door opened and out stepped the baby of the family, Morgan. Of course she mostly didn't look like a baby at all. She was still tall and beautiful, her big breasts and lovely legs visible to the whole neighborhood. But her hair was pulled into two pigtails, which was new, and even stranger, she was wearing a diaper. Alice took her daughter's hand and said, "Come on dear, I'll help you to the door."

Morgan attempted to pull her hand away, but Alice held tight. "I don't need help to the door, Mom," she said grumpily, "I'm just as capable as I was before."

Her Mom looked up at her tallest child with a slightly sad smile. "I know you are honey, but legally you're an infant now, so I have to do my best to take care of you. Otherwise they might take you away from me."

The passenger door opened and another naked girl stepped out. At first glance a neighbor would have thought it was Miranda with a new short haircut, but in fact this was the newly-rechristened Martina Mason. Her facial features were softer than Martin's had been, and her body was similarly delicate and feminine. As she stood she looked down at her b-cup breasts and the little patch of hair between her legs, and wondered how long it would take to get used to being a girl.

"Martina, help your sister out," said Alice after a moment. "I think she's having trouble with the door." Martina opened the back passenger's-side door and there was Miranda, sighing in frustration. She stepped carefully out of the car, afraid she might lose her balance and fall without being able to catch herself. Her face and body were almost identical to Martina's, except she had shoulder-length hair, was shaven between her legs, and of course her arms ended in smooth stumps at the wrists, her hands completely gone.

Standing face to face with her former brother, Miranda almost felt like she was looking in a mirror. "You know sis," she said, "Once your hair grows out, your hands will probably be the only way people can tell us apart."