She Wakes Up at Home

Cassandra awoke to the familiar blaring of her alarm clock. As she rolled over to silence it, she let out a small cry as the sheets brushed against her naked body.

“Whaa…?” Cassandra inquired groggily through a yawn. She never slept nude. But this was hardly the first time she woke up in an odd situation in her own home. Sometimes, she was so exhausted from work that she wouldn’t even make it too the bed, falling asleep on the couch or in a chair instead. It wasn’t impossible that she simply fell asleep changing into her night clothes. Waking up like this wasn’t unpleasant though, he thought. Maybe she’s do this every once in a while in the future.

As she shifted to get out of bed, she felt a tickling sensation along her shoulder and back. Lighting her hand, she was startled to find her hair was longer. Normally, she kept her curls in a practical bob, just below the jaw line, but now her luxurious tousled locks fell past her shoulders. Alarmed, Cassandra’s hear rate quickened. That was less easy to rationalize. Much more awake than before now, Cassandra headed to the bathroom only to find another surprise.

“I don’t own a bidet!” Cassandra was starting to panic now. Everything else in the master bathroom of her apartment was the same, except for the inclusion of the new appliance. Sure she was either dreaming of hallucinating at this point, she cautiously walked over to the sink to brush her teeth before her shower. As she brushed, she noticed something else different, a bottle she had never seen before. On it was the silhouette of a woman’s bust and the tag line “fuller, firmer, and more fun!” She scanned over it and found that it was breast lotion that claimed to reduce and remove stretch marks, firm up breasts, and increase their sensitivity. With a sardonic snort, she tossed it into the trash. Even if the beauty industry wasn’t just a racket to drain women of their wealth, the last thing she needed was “fuller” breasts. To her dismay, behind it was a similar bottle for the buttocks.

The shower brought another unpleasant surprise for Cassandra; her pubic hair was totally gone. She never shaved, and there were no razor bumps or stubble, which means it was either waxed or she had laser hair removal. Both things she had never thought of doing in her life.

Cassandra slumped in the shower and started to cry. She felt like she was waking up from a bender and lost a month or more of time. It felt like she was a different person. But she recalled the date on her alarm vividly. It was when it was exactly supposed to be. Her mind wandered back to the cryptic woman in red. She had written off that experience as a dream, but now she was praying that she was dreaming now instead.

Exiting the shower and going back to the bedroom, she caught a glimpse of herself in the full body mirror in the corner. The familiar stretch marks at the top of her breasts were essentially gone, and her breasts were as perky as when she finished high school, the droop and sag of gravity she had grown accustomed to seeing and feeling almost totally absent. She was almost never without a bra, and yet in her time walking around this morning, she had hardly noticed that she didn’t have one on. She couldn’t feel any of the usual pain and soreness in her shoulders that came from carrying her heavy breasts unaided. She jumped once, experimentally, and the flop and dangle she had done her best to hide was replaced with a healthy and seductive bounce and jiggle. Her mind wandered back to the bottles of lotion on her sick counter. Turning around, she found her butt was also more pronounced than she was used to. She gave herself a once over again and found that her arms, legs, and abs were more toned than she knew. She looked exactly like what her workout goal vision was.

A little light headed, Cassandra opened up her closet to get dressed, and finally let ou the terrified scream that had been building up in her.

Save for a few coats clearly meant for winter, there were no clothes on her closet. All the space was not taken up with racks of shoes, some familiar and some new, hats, and handbags. Scurrying over to her dresser, she found her underwear drawer similarly barren, occupied only by a few pairs of socks. No bras, no panties.

The room began to spin, and she started to feel intensely nauseous. Steadying herself, Cassandra looked around the room and saw a picture of herself. It was taken at a ribbon cutting of one of the building she had help get built. She wore a pair of heels and some jeweler in the photo, but nothing else. Yet she look totally natural, smiling exuberantly. There were a few other women in the background of the photo as well, she as bare as she was. All the men were dressed normally. It was the same in all the other photographs. All the women were naked and all the men clothed. The only exception was one she had taken early in high school with her then best-friend. In it, they were both clothed in normal uniforms.

**** for this to be some kind of elaborate prank, Cassandra turned on the television to the morning news. Sitting there nude was the female anchor, talking away as naturally as can be to her male co-host in a slick suit.

Cassandra ran over to the window and opened it. Outside, people walked on the street. A women, naked save for sneakers, walked her dog while a mail man in full uniform made his deliveries. The stopped and spoke briefly, and the woman smiled and blushed.

This time, she did vomit. The bile was too hot, too bitter, too real to be anything from a dream.