Chapter #9You get distracted. by: Hedlum   As you walk across the room you're forced to brush a newly long stand of hair out of your face. You pause, stopping mid way across the room and pull the hair back so you can examine it.
It's... Red.
Not that your hair wasn't red before. You and all your siblings had been born full blown carrot tops, more orange then actually red. But as time had gone by both your hair and your sisters had darkened significantly. Sam's hair had turned to an actual red, and not just any red. The kind of red that people wanting to dye their own hair would pay a professional for. Not a fake crayola crayon red but a darker more serious red that wasn't dark to the point of being a brownish auburn like your own.
Or had been.
Examining the stand of hair you find it to be an exact color match as your sisters. You frown, confused. As much as you can figure those were some kind of magic gender-bender pills. So if that's the case then why isn't you hair the same dark auburn as before? Shouldn't you be the straight up fem version of your natural born man self?
You look around the room. Sam used to have this old full body mirror that had been great-grandma Eva's. Where is it though? Did she get rid of it? The only other mirror upstairs, besides the small one in your room, is the one in the bathroom right next to the stairs. Not only is the floor horribly creaky, loud enough to wake even you in the middle of the night from time to time, but being where it is you'd run the serious risk of being spotted by anyone who might happen to be by the bottom of the stairs at the time.
So going to the bathroom to check is out, at least for the moment. All that leaves is the mirror. So where the hell is it?
Looking around there's only one obvious place it could be. Opening the closet doors you spot it immediately. The top half of it is hidden behind hanging clothes while the bottom half is easily visible, giving off the impression of a young child hiding behind a window curtain not long enough to cover his legs and feet.
The thought makes you grin, reminding you of many games of hid and seek you played with the twins when you were all younger. Parting the clothes you grab hold of one side intent to pull it out into the open. But you freeze after the first tug. The large - and heavy - mirror groans loudly as you pull it across the wood floor.
No worries, you think as you hope no one downstairs heard that. You'll just carry it out.
Positioning yourself behind the mirror you grab the sides firmly - and fail to lift it.
"Holy Shit!" You curse, giving up. Was this thing always this damn heavy? It's a big wood mirror with what looks like hand-carved details along its edges and is an heirloom from Moms side of the family, which is kind of odd given that her side of the family is mostly Irish and the mirror apparently survived the bombings during WWII... In Germany.
Taking a step back you look around. You're damn determined to get a good look at your new female self and you're not going to let a simple heavy mirror stop you! You glance at the door, remembering the gender-bender pills back in your room. If the red pills fem'ed you up, the blue will probably have the opposite effect, and give you back the 'umpf' you need to heft this bad boy out. But you dissuade yourself of the idea almost immediately. Not only would that kind of defeat the purpose of wanting to check out your new female self, your not sure what mixing the effects of the pills will do and if you'll be able to get back to where you are now after that.
You put your hands on your hips and let out a defiant huff. And what are you? An old man! You don't need any stikin pills to fix this problem! Just because you don't have the brawn doesn't mean you don't have the brains.
Scouring the room you come across a small pile of towels haphazardly thrown on the floor. Perfect! You grab several to find their still wet. Sam must have gone to yoga. Your sister was the only person you know who will clean up to go get sweaty.
Something about the towels though perks your interest and you bring one closer to take an experimental whiff. It smells... nice.... really..... nice.....
You jerk when you feel a unfamiliar tingle under your gut. It's odd, similar but not the same as what you felt when you fondled yourself earlier. But it's certainly not a bad feeling.
Not totally comfortable with this new feeling you quickly cross the room and put your idea into motion. Soon the feet of the mirror are sufficiently padded with towels and, after a preliminary tug, you quietly pull the mirror out of the closet and into the natural light of the room.
Feeling a bit more proud of yourself then you probably should, you get your first look at your XX chromosome self.
"Wow." You breath. Expecting the sight of a 16 year old teen girl to meet you, you're instead confronted with what is undeniable a young woman. Deep green eyes are set in a heart shaped face, clear of imperfections. A small nose sits over a pair of thick, kissable lips that hold a tad of pout. Red, wild hair hangs down mid-shoulder blade and spills over slim shoulders that support a pair of luscious breast. Their large but not fatty and beautifully firm, seeming even bigger then they are on your newly slimmed form. You're actually a bit mesmerized by the sight of them, bra-less and free, nipples visible stiff under the shirt. Almost without out thought you slowly pull of your t-shirt. A slender tummy is revealed. You shiver at the sight of the woman in the mirror. The fact that she's only wearing pants makes the sight kind of erotic.
Feeling you heart beat hard and you breathing quicken, you run your hands slowly over your breasts, feeling their firmness, before lowering you hands down your belly. Your waist is slim and you stomach flat but oddly soft, lacking any real muscle definition. Your hands stay them for a moment, enjoying the simple feeling of your womanly hands run over your soft skin.
But slowly you hands drift further south, coming to rest on the hem of you pants. The jeans are unbuttoned and unzipped. Even then though they feel snug and look off, like they had no business even trying to fit over these child-bearing hips.
Your eyes are half lidded as you bite your lower lip, an undeniable cute expression, as that odd tingling feeling comes back. You hook your thumbs in your pants and gradually begin to slide them-
'Creak.' You nearly jump out of your skin when you hear the floor outside your sisters door groan in protest of being stepped on. You go from whatever state-of-mind you were in and jump straight to panic mode as you realize there's someone outside in the hallway. You scramble to pick you shirt off the floor and force it back on as your mind races. Who could it be? Is it one of the twins? It couldn't have been. One thing about living in this house for as long as you have is that you can generally tell who's who in your family just by the sound the floor makes when they walk over it. But the twins are too small to have made that kind of creak. It had to have been someone bigger. Dad or Uncle James? No, too light for them. Aunt Janice? Maybe. But why would she be back so soon? Checking in was usually a once or twice a week thing. Oh God! What if someone broke in and murdered the twins and now was going to rape you and kill you and bury your body at the beach?!
It was improbable, if not a bit of a stupid idea. But seemed likely enough to you in your hormonally imbalanced state, a side effect of your sudden gender change.
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