Everyone is looking at me as I walk through campus. They’re all staring at me, long legs and stomach on display. This outfit covers just enough to keep my dignity, but not enough to keep them from staring.
Last night was a disaster. Girlfriend broke up with me. Staring at a GPA that means I can’t graduate. One stupid wish on a star and my troubles just doubled.
I woke up as this morning as the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen in my life. The reflection in my mirror was her and her whole closet was filled with only this outfit. I can’t miss this meeting, so I had to dress like this. Short skirt and tiny shirt, and now everyone can see the woman I’ve become.
This meeting with my Professor was supposed to be about fixing things. It was supposed to be about changing my grade and making it through to graduation. But I can tell by way he looks at me that my handsome Professor thinks I’m here for other reasons. I just know he thinks I’ll do anything for my grade.
The worst part is I want to. I’ve never felt anything like being her. My whole world is on fire, my senses heightened with a desperate need for more.
I want to give in to my temptations. I want this fantasy to unfold. I’m ready and willing to do whatever it takes, not for the grade but for my own selfish satisfaction.
I just need to know what it’s like to be a woman.
Excerpt
I just couldn’t believe that I had to wear this outfit.
Five minutes to go, no time to argue. I was stuck by circumstances, trapped by them into making a choice purely because all other options had been taken off the table.
But when I finally managed to get something on and get out the door I couldn’t imagine who was getting a laugh out of this cosmic joke, I just knew that someone was.
The outfit was not discreet, even if it did match the circumstances a bit. I mean I was a student, after all, a college student at a college that didn’t demand a uniform mind you but a student nonetheless.
So it made a bit of sense that I was wearing what appeared to be a uniform.
You know the sort I’m sure.
Tall socks. Plaid skirt. White shirt.
The quintessential school uniform but this one decidedly designed to draw the eye.
And draw the eye it did, because as I strode quickly along the paths of the campus towards my Professors office I knew that everyone was watching me walk past. I could feel their eyes lingering and running up and down my body. I could feel them staring at me, memorizing the sway of my hips and the movement of my body.
Hell even me, with my wholly absent sex drive, would probably watch a woman like this walk past. I mean I felt like everything was on display here, like there was no way to avoid wanting to watch me pass.
Because the socks hugged my calves and came up over my knees but they were probably the biggest piece of clothing I had on. The tartan skirt was almost more of a belt and I knew it left most of my smooth thighs on display but it felt like it left my ass on display as well, like each step I take made it rise up and show off just the bottom of my cheeks.
And the shirt wasn’t much better. Pure white and tiny with little sleeves and a high cut that left my taut stomach on full display. There was no mistaking the fact that my breasts were braless because they jiggled and bounced with each step and they pressed at the fabric of my shirt, drawing it away from my stomach and probably begging for someone to slip their hands up underneath and squeeze them.
I was shaking, trembling as I walked.
Because I caught their eyes as I walked and I knew that their gaze was for me and rather than get angry or upset about it, I couldn’t help but focus on it. I couldn’t help but wonder what lewd fantasies they were having about me, what they wanted to do.
What they thought of me.
Did they know that beneath my skirt there was a slim little pair of white panties? That as I stepped out of my apartment I was guarded but the more I was out here the more I was setting my shoulders back and strutting? Did they know that I could feel their gaze and that feeling that made it so much easier to imagine what it would be like to have their hands on me? Did they know that I, for the first time in my life, actually wanted that?
It was bizarre. It was so very not me. To have thoughts like this, cravings and desires like this. To want with such reckless abandon that I’m pretty sure if someone stopped me and offered to take me into the bushes and take me fully I would say yes in an instant just to know what it felt like.
Because that was the most shocking part for me. The heat of the moment and the desire for more was underlaid with this certainty that I couldn’t shake.
That it would be better as her. That I would know as her. That the moment I became her the cotton batting that had been laid over the world had been pulled away and I could feel now, could really feel now.
And I wanted to feel more.