The Retcon Mogynovis clattered to the floor.
Staring back at Mitch from the mirror was a girl. A really cute girl. She was a little under average height, and narrow enough at the waist that she had a definite figure. She had a face made for smiles, shoulder-length hair with a natural wave, cat-like ears, and the kind of complexion that suited wearing buttercup yellow; In short, she was a perfectly feminine cat-girl of the wholesome kind that were out of fashion... Except for her chest, which was enormous and erotic.
Her one-piece dress didn't show any skin between her neck and her knees, but it didn't need to; There was no dress on earth that could have hidden boobs like those. They were huge and rounded and high and mouthwatering, as if she'd somehow forced a pair of watermelons in there. By all rights they should have weighed as much as the rest of her put together, yet somehow she was standing as straight and easily as if her megaboobs were only photoshopped in.
Mitch looked down at herself in disbelief. Clothed boobs filled her field of view. She felt her nipples harden even as she saw two peaks start to strain against the cloth, almost out of reach. Still incredulous, she slowly brought her hands up and gingerly reached for them...
She touched them through the rough cloth, and pleasure blossomed from her fingertips. A part of herself between her thighs melted. Yes, these colossal, perfect breasts, this body, this feeling - it was all real, and hers, and so, so... Her arousal (she was desperately horny) redoubled as she realised that she, the innocent-lewd girl from the mirror, was groping her own breasts. Unable to hold back, she let out a purring "Nyaah..."
That snapped her out of it. What had happened? How had she turned into exactly the sort of girl she fantasized about? Why was she a cat-girl? Why wasn't she panicking more?
At least that last question's answer was obvious: She was too horny to be scared. Seeing that wholesome-yet-lewd body in the mirror, the knowledge that it was in easy reach at all times, was a huge turn on. Just thinking about how perfect she must look like under that dress was-
She forced her thoughts back on track. She'd just made herself a catgirl. Fixing that had to be her priority. She cast about, hoping to find something to distract herself from how horny she was...
Her room was different. Not much different - The layout hadn't changed, and the furniture was all in the same places - but the walls were painted a warm apricot colour, where before they'd been more of a beige. The hook on the back of the door that usually held the suit she'd worn to her cousin's wedding now supported an elegant dress. Pulling open her wardrobe revealed more of the same: Full-length dresses, long skirts, giant sweaters and blouses, hardly anything resembling trousers or shorts, panties that seemed like they'd fit. No bras, though; Presumably she didn't wear them, though whether that was through choice or necessity she couldn't say.
The wardrobe and paint weren't the only things that had changed. Looking around, she could see other small differences as well: The notepad on her desk was filled with neater handwriting, a magazine she remembered leaving on the bed was gone, and her wallet had been replaced by an embroidered handbag. There was even a vase of flowers on the windowsill that hadn't been there before.
Clearly, whatever had had changed her body hadn't stopped there: It had changed anything that suggested she had until recently been a guy. How far back did the effects reach, she wondered? All the way?
There was only one way to be sure. On the bottom shelf of her bookcase she kept a photo album...
Wed Jun 10 12:14:25 2015
4 comments Last updated: Wed Jun 10 21:43:01 2015