I had no idea what to say or how to react as I stared down at the new Chelsea.

  Fifteen seconds ago she was tall, athletic, and tough. She was a couple centimetres taller than my normal body, she wore her dark brown hair trimmed kind of short. She had brown eyes, and a faint scar on her chin from an injury she got pying soccer a few years back. Her body was slim and strong, without an ounce of fat anywhere on her. She didn't have a lot of curves, she was kind of ft up front and in the rear, but she had a very impressive set of abs. And her thighs were pretty amazing.

  Now Chelsea looked petite like me, in fact she might have been even smaller. I was sure she'd lost at least twenty-five centimetres of height. On the other hand she seemed even curvier than I was, she was practically bursting out of her leggings while her t-shirt looked painfully tight across her substantial new chest. Her hair had grown out as long as mine, and was now a golden blonde while her eyes were a bright sparkling blue. Her face was cute and rounded, her lips full and red, and that blemish on her chin was gone.

  Basically it looked like she'd transformed from a tall tough athlete to someone short soft and busty.

  "Chels?" I asked as I stared at her in shock and confusion. "Are you ok?"

  She blinked up at me a few times before she gasped, "Holy shit did it work?!"

  Even her voice had changed. She still sounded sort of like how I knew her, but her voice was a little higher pitched and somehow sounded a bit smaller, like it reflected her new appearance.

  I stepped back while she struggled to sit up, but she was clearly having some trouble.

  "Ah fuck my clothes are too damn tight!" she gasped a moment ter.

  Her leggings were way too long but looked tight enough to be cutting off circution around her hips, and I was positive she'd be having trouble breathing the way her t-shirt was compressing her chest.

  Instead of sitting up she flopped back on my bed again then tucked her fingers into the waistband of her leggings and started squirming her way out of them. It took her a few seconds before she was finally able to get them down past her wide new hips, then she kicked them off so they ended up on the floor next to my bed.

  It took me a moment to realize her panties had gone with the leggings, and my eyes bulged wide once again. Meanwhile Chelsea didn't seem to notice, or maybe she didn't care. Either way she'd moved on to the t-shirt, as she fought to get it off her shorter and obviously weaker body.

  "Ok," she grumbled through gritted teeth, "Now I get why you were naked earlier."

  I wasn't sure how to respond or what to say, so I just nodded slowly as I continued watching her.

  A couple seconds ter Chelsea got the shirt off, then tossed it aside as she took a few deep breaths. Then she sighed, "Holy shit that feels better!"

  "Uh Chels?" I asked quietly. "You know you're naked now right?"

  She didn't seem to be listening though, as she finally got up off the bed. And with her standing in front of me I could tell she was definitely shorter than me now. If I was a hundred and sixty centimetres she couldn't have been more than one-fifty-five.

  She practically retraced my footsteps as she moved to my closet door which was still open, then looked at herself in the mirror on the back.

  "Holy shit it's real," she said to herself as she stared. "It really worked."

  I nodded slowly, "Yeah it is. And it did. And um, Chelsea? Did you mean to do that? I mean, did you um, did you want to turn yourself into that?"

  She continued looking at herself in the mirror for a couple more seconds before she turned around to face me. Her eyes widened when she had to look up slightly, like she only just realized she was a bit shorter than me now. It seemed to take her another second or two to process that, then she nodded.

  "Yeah," she replied. "I did."

  My eyebrows crept up as I asked, "What? But why? This is like the por opposite of your normal self."

  She shrugged, "That's why I wanted to try it. I wanted to see what it was like, being small and soft and cute."

  "And so far I think I like it," she added as she looked back towards the mirror again.

  I shook my head, "You do? But why? I don't understand."

  Chelsea turned back towards me again and sighed, "You probably think I like being a strong tough athletic bitch, right? That all I care about is sports and competition and all that crap? Well I don't. I never picked the body I was born with, nobody does. And I didn't get to choose what to do with it either. That was all my dad."

  "What do you mean?" I asked quietly.

  She moved to sit back down on my bed, then finally covered herself with my pillow. She motioned for me to sit down next to her, so I moved to join her on the edge of the bed. And as I did so I put the little pink ptop down behind me for now.

  Meanwhile she continued, "My dad wanted a son. When he got a girl instead he was disappointed, but he didn't let that stop him. He did his best to make me the athletic sports hero he always wanted to be himself. He raised me and trained me, he's the one who was always pushing me into sports. Soccer, track and field, hockey, judo, all that crap."

  "And it wasn't enough for me to just be there," she added as her voice got a little harder. "It wasn't enough to participate, and it wasn't about having fun. Dad's the one who said I had to win."

  "Every silver medal, every bronze, every participant ribbon was just another failure in dad's eyes," she sighed. "According to him, if I didn't win gold then I was a loser. And losers were punished. My dad's the one who made me such a competitive bitch."

  I shook my head, "Holy crap Chelsea, I'm sorry. I had no idea."

  "It's fine," she shrugged. Then she looked down at herself, at her small delicate hands and her cute little feet.

  After a few seconds she turned to look at me then grimaced. And as if I hadn't had enough surprises already today she took a deep breath then apologized, "I'm sorry I've been such a bitch to you."

  "It wasn't all his fault I'd like to bme that on my dad too," she added, "I'm sure you don't need me to tell you this but he's never liked you. You probably don't know why though? He always said you were too weak, too soft, too much of a wimp. Then after your mom was gone, dad resented having to look after you. And I um, I didn't like you either? But for different reasons."

  She sighed once more, "When we were younger I hated your mom for repcing my mom. Then after your mom died I guess I transferred that to you. And my dad encouraged it. He was awful to you, and he made sure I knew he wanted me to do the same."

  I already knew Edward hated me after mom died, but I never really understood why Chelsea was so mean to me. All I knew was without mom, my life was crap. And my head was almost spinning after finding out Ed was abusive to his own daughter too, just in different ways.

  "Sorry Chelsea," I finally responded. "Your dad kind of sucks."

  She nodded, "He's not a good man, and I always knew that. I've wanted to stand up to him for a long time, to say something or speak out. Or even just to apologize to you for being such a bitch. I've never felt safe enough though, not until now."

  That left me frowning, "So what's changed? And why are you being so nice to me now? Is it because I'm a girl?"

  "It can't be because you look like that now, can it?" I added in confusion. "I mean your normal body is strong and tough, you could easily beat me up. I bet you could even stand up to your dad too, if you wanted. But now you're shorter than me, and you're all soft and curvy..."

  Her cheeks coloured as she admitted, "It's weird but this feels more like the real me? It's easier to be honest and speak my truth now that I'm in a body I'm comfortable with."

  "Small and soft and curvy is perfect," she added. "Growing up I always wanted to be a girly girl. I wanted to be cute and do cute fun girly things. You know I wasn't allowed to py with dolls after my mom died? I didn't even get to wear a dress until I could afford to buy one for myself."

  Then she looked down at herself again and smiled, "Nobody's going to force me do sports ever again, now that I look like this. As for why I'm being nice to you now, it's not because you're a girl. Or not entirely anyways. Making yourself a cute girl showed me that was possible. And thanks to you I'm a cute girl now too."

  I frowned, "Wait I thought you were just trying this out? You're not pnning to stay like that, are you? I mean, you'll have to go back to normal eventually, right?"

  "Same with me," I sighed. "I've got csses on Monday, same as you. If we showed up looking like this nobody would recognize us. They won't believe it's us."

  Chelsea gave me a funny look, "Does that mean you want to stay like that too? You like being a girl?"

  Suddenly I was blushing again as I stammered, "I um, I mean, I can't stay like this. Right? It's not me. I'm supposed to be a guy. Maybe if I was trans this would be ok, but I'm not."

  "I don't know," she responded with a little smile on her face. "You seem pretty comfortable as a girl, at least from what I've seen so far. And the name Lisa definitely suits you."

  "You know I could get used to you being a cute pinkette girl," she added with a smirk.

  Hearing that sent another little flutter of emotions through me. Her words had the corners of my lips trying to curl up into a smile, but I wasn't sure if I was supposed to like that or if she was actually teasing me. And I really didn't know how to respond to those feelings, so instead I tried to try and distract both of us by changing the subject.

  "You know you're still naked, right? At least I put on my hoodie."

  Chelsea protested, "It's not like you can see anything, I'm all covered up!"

  "You're covered up with my pillow!" I retorted. "How am I supposed to sleep on that tonight, knowing you've been sitting there pressing it against your boobs?!"

  Her cheeks went bright red as we ended up staring at each other for a few seconds. Then she actually started giggling. Chelsea barely ever ughed, and I'd definitely never heard her giggle before. But now she was giggling, and it turned out to be infectious. After a few more seconds I found myself giggling too, because the whole situation was completely impossible.

  I'd accidentally turned myself into a cute curvy pink-haired girl, then Chelsea turned herself into a cute curvy blonde. We'd both seen each other stark-ass naked, and now I was sitting beside her wearing nothing but a hoodie, while she sat next to me wearing nothing but my pillow.

  It took a minute or so for the giggling to run its course, then we both slowly went quiet again.

  "Seriously though," Chels grimaced, "I have no idea what we're going to do about clothes. Literally nothing I own is going to fit me anymore. And you're pretty much in the same pce, I doubt any of your clothes will work out well either."

  "Even that hoodie looks uncomfortable," she added as she eyed the way the fabric was tight across my chest.

  That got me blushing again, but there was also another confusing little flutter in my tummy. And once again I had no idea what to think and feel, because it almost seemed like the formerly-evil Chelsea was possibly flirting with me. Or at least she was staring suggestively at my boobs. And I hadn't even got my head around the fact that I had boobs now.

  While those thoughts were still stuck in my head Chelsea finally looked up from my chest and teased, "Why the blush? What are you thinking about?"

  "What..." I frowned, then shook my head. "How are you taking all this so calmly? I accidentally turned myself into a girl with some kind of freaky second-hand ptop. Then you turned yourself into that on purpose? And now we're sitting here practically naked and talking like all this is normal. I have no idea what to think or say about any of this!"

  I kept going, but I was almost ranting or babbling by that point. "I haven't had a chance to get used to the fact that I've turned into a girl, and I'm kind of low-level freaking out about the fact that I might actually like this better than my normal body. But I don't know anything about being a girl. And I don't know how to deal with you like this? I'm used to you being scary and yelling at me or pushing me around. Now you're small and soft and cute and sexy, and I can't tell if you're flirting or not but I'm terrified of responding the wrong way because even though all this is weird and strange I also don't want it to end? So yeah I'm confused and freaking out and there's strange happy feelings mixed in with all that too and I don't know what to do or say or think and -"

  "Hey!" Chelsea finally interrupted. She'd raised her voice to get my attention, but she wasn't angry or upset or yelling. Then she reached out and put a hand on my bare knee, while she kept the pillow in pce with her other hand.

  Her touch was soft and warm and the feel of it on my knee sent even more of those strange happy excited flutters through me. I gulped but stayed quiet as I stared at her again.

  "Please don't freak out, ok?" she said in a soft calming voice. "I'm sorry for being so scary before, and I promise I'll do my best to never yell at you again. And I'm sorry for confusing you with mixed signals now. Honestly I'd like to try and make it up to you somehow, if I can?"

  Chels seemed to hesitate a moment before admitting, "There's a reason I'm not freaking out as much as you are cutie. You're right though, it's definitely a weird and impossible situation."

  Hearing her call me cutie gave me some more strange fluttery feelings, and along with everything she just said it helped me rex a bit. I sighed, "Thanks Chelsea. Sorry for freaking out on you like that."

  "It's ok," she smiled. Then she got to her feet and added, "I'm going to head back up to my bedroom and see if there's anything at all in my closet I can wear."

  Before I could respond she dropped the pillow on my bed, leaving herself completely naked again. Then on her way out of my room she picked up her soda and smiled, "Thank you for bringing me the drink."

  PurpleCatGirl