This choice: I just wear the gown. Better to go slow than to get a lot of attention. • Go Back...Chapter #5Wearing the Wedding Gown (At Least for a While) by: Unknown Instead of my backpack, all that was sitting on the floor next to me was a small white purse. I grabbed it in one hand as I stood up and gathered my voluminous skirt as well as I could.
I had to cross in front of a few classmates to get to the aisle. “Sorry,” I muttered. “Emergency.” I almost tripped over the giant feet of the jock at the end of the row. “Excuse me,” I hissed.
I started walking up the aisle of the lecture hall, when from behind me, I heard the professor ask, “Do you need to get to the church on time?”
I turned around halfway and just said, “It’s a long story.” I winced at hearing my voice at full volume -- it had become noticeably higher in pitch. I continued up the aisle and out into the hallway, then out the front door of the classroom building, having to hold the skirt off the ground so its dragging didn’t slow me down even more than its size already was.
Unfortunately, my dorm was all the way across campus. And I hadn’t gone more than a few hundred feet when I felt my torso suddenly get cooler. A look down revealed that the bodice of the gown had changed, becoming more of a halter top -- my decent-sized cleavage was on display, as was my midriff.
I looked back up to see a woman coming in the other direction on the walkway. She was wearing a standard sweatshirt for our college, but then, in almost the blink of an eye, it changed style. It still had the name printed across her chest, but the name was now interrupted in the middle by a deep cleavage-revealing V-cut, and the bottom hem was much shorter, thus showing off her midriff.
She didn’t seem to notice anything had changed, although she was looking at me strangely. I just said, “It’s a long story” as we passed each other, and she shrugged and continued on.
I then felt the odd sensation of something tickling my lower back, which was now bare. I reached around and felt hair -- when I’d seen myself in the classroom window reflection, my hair had been just beyond shoulder length, but now it had apparently grown down as far as my ass.
Another woman was walking toward me, also clad in a cleavage- and belly-revealing shirt, and her hair seemed to be lengthening by the second, and also becoming thicker and wavier. It stopped when it got a bit past her ass. I then happened to notice a glint of metal suddenly appear in her navel -- a belly-button ring had popped into existence. I looked down at my own midriff, and saw that a small silver heart on a short chain was dangling from a new piercing.
I tried to walk faster, but the skirt was still slowing me down. It was as if the changes my roommate Steve was using the Master PC program to make to me were also affecting all the other females on campus, or maybe -- and I felt a little sickened by this thought -- the whole world. I guess it made sense that the program might be able to affect more than one person at a time. I silently cursed myself again for leaving it running unattended.
Suddenly, as I walked, I felt the skirt losing its volume. I cheered a bit as I looked down to see it shrink, until I realized the full implications. It ended up as a miniskirt, still made of the same satiny material. My legs were sheathed in white stockings with lace tops just below the bottom hem of the skirt.
The good news was that I’d be able to run now. I took off at a reasonably good pace, unaccustomed as I was to the weights on my chest and the lack of a weight between my legs. It wasn’t until I’d gone a little ways that I realized I was wearing high heels -- as best I could tell out of the corner of my eye as I continued to run, they were really high heels, with platforms, and yet I wasn’t having much of a problem running.
At last I came to the busy street that ran through campus -- my dorm was basically right on the other side -- and had to stop for the pedestrian signal at the crosswalk. A woman came jogging up, running in place a bit as she waited for the light, too. Her brown hair was in a braid that was almost to her knees, there was a jeweled stud in her navel, and she wore a pair of short shorts, a revealing sports bra, and shoes that were an odd-looking cross between sneakers and stripper shoes, with what appeared to be 2-inch platforms and 8-inch heels. They looked impossible to run in, but she was apparently managing.
“How long till the wedding?” she asked me.
“Uh, it’s a long story,” I said.
“Aha,” she said knowingly. “Sorority prank?”
In an instant, her face was heavily made up -- red cheeks, red lips, colorful eyeshadow, thick and dark eyeliner and mascara. I could see out of the corner of my eyes that I was wearing similar makeup.
“Well...” I tried to think of something while I looked at the unchanging “don’t walk” signal as the traffic rushed past.
“Kappa Delta Omega?” she asked.
I felt sudden weights in my earlobes and unconsciously put a hand up to feel the large earring that dangled there. I noticed that she now had large silver hoops in her ears -- did she really wear those to jog? -- and had a smaller silver hoop through one nostril.
“Sure,” I said with a bit of a sigh.
“Oh, congratulations on pledging!” she exclaimed, parting her glossy red lips in a smile. The signal finally changed to “walk” as she jogged ahead into the crosswalk, proclaiming “good luck!” over her shoulder.
I noticed there was an abstract tattoo on her lower back and picked up my pace a bit. There were a couple of women coming through the crosswalk in the opposite direction, and they looked pretty much the same: skimpy clothes, really high heels, really long hair, porn-star makeup, giant earrings, navel piercings, the whole nine yards. After they’d passed me, I turned around surreptitiously -- yes, they both had tramp stamps, one an abstract design and the other a garland of flowers.
No sooner had I reached the other side of the street than my body began to shift. Most obviously, my chest ballooned outward, but I could also feel my waist contracting and my hips and thighs expanding. My clothes apparently changed so they’d fit, but the top strained against breasts that were now about the size of volleyballs.
I could see that other women had gone through a similar change, but just as with all the other transformations, they didn’t seem to notice their sudden exaggerated hourglass figures. Neither did, from what I could tell, the guys that were around.
I started to run again, but now my speed was limited somewhat by my oversized endowments. It wasn’t too far to my dorm -- and I was happy to see that my keys were in the small white purse I’d been carrying this whole time.
I made it inside and up the stairs. No one in the lobby or the halls gave me a second glance. As I headed for my room, I thought, “Okay, Steve must have somehow turned on an option that changes things over a wide area. If he’s realized what’s going on, he might be unstoppable. But maybe he hasn’t -- maybe he thinks he’s only changing my avatar.”
I threw open the door and burst into the room. Steve was sitting at my desk in front of my computer. He looked up, and the expression on his face was...  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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