In retrospect, it seemed obvious that my mind wasn’t working at its best in that moment, but at the time, it seemed like a good idea to get out of the cold. Just a five minute break to rest and relax, and warm up for a bit before going back to my bed. The closet open establishment was the bar right outside of campus, and I just needed to pop in for a second to get my bearings, and build up the energy to make it back. The odds against Brian and Fred being there were pretty good, so it seemed like a small risk to get in and out.
I opened the door, walked a few yards in and then realized my mistake. I could feel everyone’s eyes examining me as I walked in. Some pretended to continue talking and used their peripheral vision, but many didn’t even bother turning their heads away from me. And in all honesty, I don’t blame them. It’s winter, and a woman walks into the bar with a mini-skirt, a metal breast plate, what I can only assume were fetish boots, and obviously, a gold, sometimes silver tiara. I’d stare. Some assholes even took out their cellphones and started snapping pictures, or video. The first videos online about her came from the bar. But at that point no one knew I had powers. They probably just assumed that I was some fake geek girl dressing up like this for attention.
Against better judgement, I kept walking, and quickly turned into the restroom. It was only once I saw my reflection in the mirror that I realized my mistake. Her face wasn’t like mine. She didn’t look like my female twin, at least I was pretty sure she didn’t. For one thing, her nose was longer than mine, it wasn’t larger, and it didn’t shove out more. It was a perfectly straight Greek nose, much daintier than mine. My cheeks were flushed, with what I assumed to be blush or rouge. A dark red lipstick covered my lips. It was definitely a colour that demanded sexual stimulation. The eyes were a piercing blue, very different from my natural colour. The eyelashes curved upwards, and were a raven’s black, definite use of some sort of mascara on them. Eyeliner demanded attention to be brought to the white in my eyes, outlining it. A glossy eye shadow made itself known when I blinked. The eyebrows dyed black.
No wonder everyone was staring at me. I was entranced myself, and didn’t even realize that some guy opened the bathroom door behind me until his phone flashed, indicating a picture was taken. It turned to scold him, until I was the urinal out of the corner of my eye and realized that I was in the men’s room.
“Hey babe, anyone ever tell you that good girls don’t use the men’s bathroom?” he sneered.
“I’m sorry. Honest mistake.” I said. Embarrassed, and panicking a bit, I tried to run past him and head towards the woman’s but just no clue how to move quickly in heels. The size difference didn’t help much either, and I fell flat against the guy, knocking him to the wall.
“Easy woman, let me buy dinner first.” he joked.
At this point, I was really panicking, used my force against the wall to push myself up, and ran out of the men’s room and into the woman’s before anyone else could hopefully take a picture of me.
Two woman where doing their makeup and gossiping as I stumbled in. The stopped to look at me, and I instantly tucked into an open stall. It felt so unnatural being there that my mind told me that I was about to get arrested. Falling back on the toilet seat, I waited for the girls to leave.
Once they finally left, I went to the mirror and got a better look at myself. The lighting was better here, and I could actually see that my midriff was exposed under the breastplate. This somehow made my breasts look even bigger. They seemed designed for getting attention, but didn’t look practical in any way. I was almost shocked that I could move as well as I did without use of a bra. I assume that the breastplate had some sort of magic to that effect, or that the power that let me fly was always holding my breasts up.
Looking around to make sure I was alone, I also lifted the skirt to find a silk thong underneath. At least it wasn’t lacy or embroidered.
As hard as I tried, I couldn’t get the boots to come off. The almost seemed glued to my feet. Even the tiara seemed magnetically attached to my head. Once back in the stall, I realized I was able to drop the panties and skirt down to use the toilet, but couldn’t get them past my ankles.
This also gave me amble time to check out my new equipment. Much to my dismay, my outdoor plumbing had been remodelled to the indoor variety. The area around it was clean and shaven. I looked at the armpits. Those seemed to have been shaved as well, same thing with my legs. The body had come pre-waxed. If I was stuck as a female, at least whatever was doing it for me was nice enough to make sure my hygiene was taken care of.
After what seemed to be twenty minutes, I decided that most people would have forgotten about me and left. When I got outside and stepped in the snow, I realized something. The faster I ran, the lighter my steps became. It turned out that this was my flight power activating. With some practice, I realized that I could hover a millimetre over the ground, and not have to worry about my heels slipping. If I put my hands next to my waste, and pointed my palms towards the ground, I was able stay in the air, even if it was only a millimetre. I could even go forward by mimicking the motion at walking. The problem was moving like this seemed to extend my ass out more and exaggerated its sway, but if that was the trade-off for not tripping on heels that it was worth it.
I made it all the way up to my room that night without further incident. As long as Brian was asleep, I could hide under my covers until morning.
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