Just a nice, depressing story, sorry...

It was just another normal class, I was spending it just as I always spend my classes, admiring the ladies, studying them,

wishing I was one of them, praying I was one of them and then one day, one day it happened, it came to be… I was sitting in my

chair in the fourth row, entirely invisible, a silent mostly unnoticed member of a tiny class of only fifteen or so people when I

could feel it.

I knew immediately what was happening, I could feel an itching and then a warm sensation spread across my chest as small

mounds of soft flesh formed and then slowly grew out to modest porportions although to me they seemed the very image of perfection,

they were on me! I could feel the boobs hanging down, a slight weight and tugging as they bobbed with each breath, the nipples

tenting the front of my t-shirt. I looked around the classroom, everyone was oblivious to my changes as the feeling spread.

I could feel my legs and hips slowly changing and shifting. I looked down at my body, for the first time in my life I was

able to close my legs without the discomfort of the extraneous material that had formerly inhabited the area where a moist fertile

vagina now sat, basking in a soft bush of brown pubic hair.

I couldn’t help but notice my body continue to shift, my hips slowly expanding to form beautiful, soft feminine curves, as

my boobs finished filling out. While all of this was occurring I could feel my feet actually come off the ground for a second

before my body adjusted its position, my legs were now crossed, the soft, tear shaped butt expanding and cushioning my bottom, the

feelings bombarding my body too glorious to count.

I could feel long hair flowing down my neck and over my shoulders, long, dark brown tresses falling over my eyes which I

swept back with my much smaller, feminine hands. I admired the simple beauty of my hand, the small, dainty fingers, they looked so

perfect, so thin and tipped with long, rounded nails. I could feel other changes being affected now, my men’s jeans shifted into a

pair of shape hugging ladies blue jeans, my t-shirt changing into an elbow length sleeved shirt, it was a soft, pastel pink that

hugged my body and my boobs tightly, it was so shape fitting I could feel my bra straps when I felt my back. I was a girl, a young

woman.

“Jessica, are you ok?” A voice woke me from my reverie, my teacher.

I was Jessica, a girl, it was all I had ever wanted, all I had needed, all I had desired, all I had dreamed of…

“He died at approximately 1:30AM” the medical coroner said as he looked up from the body of the dead teen, an apparent

suicide. Such a shame he though, to feel such pain, such angst to need to end it all…

The sheriff’s deputy looked away, seeing dead people always hurt, but especially the suicides. Such a waste he thought to

himself, what could he have been, what he might have done, to end it all so soon. He would file his report, he would report that

the teen had died by his own hand, the victim to the stresses of his life, the strain he had felt from being called crazy for

wanting to be a girl, the pain he’d received from being abused everyday by bigots and fools, the victim of a flawed society. He

would close the file on Mark Simpson’s death, an apparent suicide, he would file it under the name Mark Simpson, a final slap in

the face by a society that had spent his entire life slapping him around.

But somewhere Jessica was smiling, she had finally made it, she had reached the promised land…

The End…