After a long drive, the four of you were glad for a break from each others' company. The moon now the only light in the sky, you head off to your hotel rooms for a sleep. Luckily, you were all in neighbouring rooms. You had 17. Matt had 16 across the hall from you. Steve had 15 on one side, and Jack had 19 on the other side.
"Night, John." Matt's words getting only a sullen grunt, and a half-hearted, "Night, guys."
Switching the small kettle on, you want a last cup of coffee before heading to bed. The inviting double bed will hopefully see a lot of action in the week ahead. The view from the balcony over the empty beaches, lets you see the length of the shore, as you imagine spending tomorrow walking it's boardwalk and seeing the available talent. Dumping your suitcase on the seat by the dresser, you pop it open.
As the kettle clicks off, you realise you haven't made up your cup. A yawn breaks free, and you find yourself eyeing the bed once more. Not bothering to unpack your bag, or even undress you collapse there, and fall asleep before you can really resist.
- - - - -
You wake to a terrifying surprise. The sunlight beams through your eyelids tinting your world red. You try to adjust your position, but it's intensely uncomfortable, with a groan, you realise you might as well get up. You're startled to see that you've woken out on the balcony the Sun peeking over the horizon seering your eyes. But that's a distant complaint. Hell, you aren't even sure how you went from the bed to the balcony.
However, your highest priority is your clothes... well swimsuit....
Actually, a bikini, and you fill it out in all the right places.
https://68.media.tumblr.com/ef5ccb3a5866...
Still not thinking properly, groggy with sleep you pad inside. Wondering if you've lost a day, and if this is a prank, you want to wake up more so that you can get to the bottom of this.
The bounce of your bust in time with your steps is worryingly real. Or at least as you'd imagine it feels. Thoughts of Disney and prosthetics come to mind. But damn, this is a hell of an impressive illusion.
A half-interested glance at your suitcase shows this trick is all in. The open case revealing a range of shoes, heels, flats, dressy and casual. A selection of swimwear too. All tailored, you guess, for your new body. A smirk curls lazily from the corner of your mouth, it's impressive in it's commitment. Scratching your head, even the hair feels real. You struggle to recall what you did yesterday, to think how much you must have drunk to forget the entire day.
Stifling a yawn, you turn the kettle on again. You really need to wake up. A soft snort coming from your lips as you see your reflection. You're Asian. A busty Asian girl. You hate to think you'd be racist, but you never saw yourself as Asian before. As the kettle bubbles towards boiling point you cradle your bust. The girls feel warm in your hands, realist, and very sensitive.
Brushing your thumbs over those large nipples a shudder ripples down your spine. Your eyes widen in horror, glancing back to the busty girl in the mirror, gaping at the reflection. A quavering hand coming up in front of your face. You know it must be real, this is no trick, no prosthetic, no drunken gag. That hand is too small, that arm to skinny..... Hell, you notice you've lost several inches in height, too.
The desire, the need to scream dies in your throat, as you don't want to be discovered, an unknown woman in 'John's' room. Unnoticed, the kettle clicks off the boil, as you head for the door. Feeling completely vulnerable, you head into the empty hallway, intensely aware of your bikini, what it covers, and leaves exposed.
You knock on the three doors. Your friends need to see this, you need to convince them of your true identity. Your blood turns cold, as you consider what'll happen if you can't convince them you're John.  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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