Jennifer’s Mal-E-ady
By Celebrity Changer
A frustrated conversation. A strange text message. Inexplicable and embarrassing changes to a young woman.
Story based on Zeron’s very detailed male to female magical transformation, with reversed sexes.
..........................................................................
The warm embrace of centrally heated air welcomed sophomore Jennifer Harper inside her university’s coffee shop.
Outside the doorway a stiff wind chilled the skin beyond the thermometer’s 38 degree reading. Inside a small jumble of students aimed to perk themselves up with warm caffeinated beverages before heading back toward their next class.
A soft instrumental blandly played from the coffee shop’s radio system and knockoff baristas prepared items diligently behind their respective cash registers.
“Great, no line.” Jennifer curtly mumbled when looking toward the cashiers.
One of them noticed Jennifer’s arrival and moved to take her order. “Welcome to Jonathan’s Café, mam. Care for a cup of coffee today?”
Jennifer paused in a hurried moment of decision making causing her layered and wavy brunette hair to dance along the edge of her shoulders. The sheer volume of her hair framed a fair-skinned diamondy face, narrowing its appearance. Above Jennifer’s glacially blue eyes her thin but prominently dark eyebrows tightened at the question.
“Actually…actually no I’ll take a hot chocolate. Medium sized with…and a regular bagel.”
“Yes mam, that will be…” the cashier stopped to tally the charge “…$4.56. I’ll bring it to you as soon as I can. Thank you.”
“Thank you.” Her natural habit of saying ‘thank you’ in moments like this won out over not saying anything; and Jennifer began to nudge herself to the side of the counter just as she felt the presence of two young gentlemen arriving in line.
The coffee clerk began to step back from the register to put the order in for his fellow associate. In doing so he opportunistically took this moment to check Jennifer out as her attention drifted.
This fleeting glance absorbed lustrous hair and trim features; a casual appearance with little to no makeup. He’d never know the ins and outs of a makeup routine, it’s just that this woman’s thin yet pleasant lips weren’t exaggeratedly red, nor were her distinct cheeks overly rosy. If this woman before him was his girlfriend she’d definitely be called beautiful on the daily. After all here she was beautiful without even trying to flash it.
But that’s just his opinion.
Jennifer’s russet coat was snug over her torso and arms. She was fitness conscious (if not always food conscious) and tried her best to keep toned. With a height of 5’8” and a weight of 140 those efforts slimmed her frame. The cashier was ignorant of Jennifer’s 32B bra size; he also didn’t know her narrow 25 inch waist invitingly spread out to 34 inch hips.
If he was blessed with x-ray vision he’d observe the purple lace-trim ‘cheeky’ Victoria’s Secret panties she was wearing (casual on the outside but she often liked to ‘feel’ sexy). And he’d longingly stare at them. But as his ‘once over’ finished he focused on the new customers.
“Welcome, Gentlemen, to Jonathan’s. Care for a…”
Jennifer moved toward the near wall looking at the newspaper station. A New York Times was there, as was a Washington Post – there were other national papers present too. She took one and shuttered to the side, already scanning the front page. She smirked at news of another dumb thing Donald Trump said. What a crazy person, she thought.
“He just says stuff like he can shoot someone and not lose a voter, drop out of debates and not lose any momentum…What is with him?”
Her not so silent mutterings attracted the attention of a young man who had also been reading the paper at a nearby table. He was next to a glassed wall looking outside. He joined in.
“He’s quite preposterous, isn’t he?”
Jennifer quickly looked away from the newspaper and over at the man who’s sentence surprised her. Her eyes met a strapping male peer, a complete stranger; but not hard on her eyes. His glasses and dark hair definitely added the look of intellectual, though he wasn’t burdened with the look of a nerd.
Not quite sure what he was going at, or even maybe going “for,” Jennifer shrugged; then she remembered mumbling about Trump. She used a disarming smile to couple her follow up.
“Oh yes! Uhm, yeah he’s a weirdo. Strangest political following I’ve ever seen.”
Jennifer wouldn’t normally use weirdo so easily in her political talk. She was well versed on today’s issues and enjoyed a spirited debate like the rest of them.
“Mam, I have your hot chocolate and bagel!” The cashier exclaimed in his most charming manner.
Jennifer diverted her attention from the stranger who had chatted her up and shuffled over to the cashier’s area. “Thank you,” she nodded to the man at the register while grabbing her items and then heading on. She began to walk toward the exit - back into the cold.
“He’s still maintaining a lead on his competitors.” The stranger directed at her as she tried to walk by.
Jennifer slowed in her pace, not wanting this conversation – but not wanting to be a bitch. Internally she wondered if this was him trying to be flirty or something.
“Ehh not exactly, both Democrats are beating him.” Her reply was still kind of flat, and she quickly frowned at her usage of both twice.
“Those aren’t really his competitors yet.” The young man offered the reply confidently.
For some reason the additional correction tapped at a nerve of hers.
Jennifer was a bright student; her major actually was in the social sciences. She kept up with politics like they were her favorite TV show. Politics tend to be a show anyway.
But right now she kind of felt like this stranger, a man who may have been trying to talk to her only because she’s an attractive woman, was correcting her with purpose.
She already knew that the Democrats and Republicans weren’t officially opponents until they chose nominees. It just felt like she was being lectured or something. She fully stopped at the door and turned to the man.
“Look, dude, I know that. I’m in a rush, and I hope you don’t take my ignoring your mansplaining *she was minding how he was sitting too*...and manspreading the wrong way, but enjoy voting for Trump! Have a good day.”
There was a definite tone in her voice as she finished that.
The young man was about to fire back that he never said he was a Trump fan but Jennifer had already pushed through the door and walked outside.
The sharp cold air splashed over her as expected. She pulled her coat tighter, trekking away from Jonathan’s while putting her head down to avoid the blustery assault.
Up next on today’s docket was an 11am class about constitutional law. It was across the quad, a distance of some 5 minutes on foot. Her left arm held the bag carrying her class’s book and note taking utensils. Alongside the bag was her purse.
Her left hand also held her bagel; while her right held the hot chocolate - being the preferred hand and all. She could have sworn she felt a slight buzzing from her purse but it was not likely her phone as she remembered setting it to silent.
“Mmmm.” A soft pull on the hot chocolate brought needed satisfaction to her spirits and body. The sweet warmth was felt traveling all the way down, resting at her stomach before it faded away inside her trim belly. Jonathan’s really had great hot chocolate.
The bagel was okay; she wasn’t really hungry and bought it so she didn’t ‘only’ get the hot chocolate. Because of that she quickly thought that she should have purchased the paper too; yeah it may have helped instigate that awkward moment with that stranger but it was still a paper. She hadn’t read one in days.
She could see the building for her next class ahead of her, closer now but still minutes away across the grassy field. Wanting to verify how much time she had before class started Jennifer began some hand acrobatics. Maneuvering the coffee over to the hand with the bagel she freed her right hand to dig through her purse and find her phone.
She grasped it and brought it out while continuing to walk in the direction of the building. Hitting the home button alerted her to two things, it was 10:57, and she had a new text message.
Apparently her phone wasn’t on silent. The text wasn’t from one of her contacts either; in fact she’d never seen this number before. 843-639-3283.
Jennifer didn’t know then that this number corresponded with the phrase “The New Fate.”
She was also confused by the randomness of its text, its length - and its vernacular.
“This is not a defense of unwarranted conversations. In fact fewer conversations started because the first party thought the second party was attractive would be beneficial.”
Jennifer read along thinking who the hell writes texts like this? She’d been in contact with English professors who don’t even text like this.
“Regardless, overreactions such as yours are behaviors we feel need correction. As a result you’ll rue your actions. Especially your word choice. Mansplaining and manspreading? Tsk tsk. You’ll now experience manspreading – and you’ll see what we mean. As for mansplaining – I suggest doing one’s best to conceal your new developments, or you’ll have to ‘mansplain’ even more of them.”
What the hell was this?
Jennifer was at a loss, and even briefly stopped walking to read this bizarre text. She didn’t know where to begin with responding to it, and she resumed walking toward her class again knowing she’d have to tackle the response to it while seated and focused. She passed near another gentleman on the quad.
This gentleman, like many males throughout the day, admired Jennifer’s form without her knowing it. He enjoyed the view of her butt as she began walking away from him again. Her slim rear did look good in those jeans, he thought. And no VPL either.
A brief shift within Jennifer’s pants got her attention, and she briefly changed her gait to accommodate a sudden bunching from her lace panties.
These panties hid VPL well, hence why she wore them today; though now they felt different. They even felt…slacker? She kept walking, and the young man behind her cocked his head a bit while he stared.
That’s funny, he thought. He could have sworn she was wearing a thong, or maybe even nothing – because at first glance he didn’t see visible panty lines. He corrected himself because he could now see, extending below her butt, what appeared to be lines representing some bunched underwear pinned beneath her tight jeans. He no longer had a clue what was going on at her ass; it reminded him of when he was wearing boxers under some jeans.
He quickly diverted his attention, and his suddenly confused gaze, from her butt and went on his way.
Jennifer left the grass and walked on to the sidewalk right outside the entrance to her building. She shuffled her gait again, trying to allay this sudden bunched feeling emanating from her pants. Her cheeky panties no longer felt snug, much less cheeky. She couldn’t quite place how they felt just that – just that they were clustering around her in with a foreign looseness.
As she reached for the door she took the moment to just peep down towards her jeans to see what the matter was; and she noticed they didn’t look right. In the areas where she had felt some binding her jeans appeared slightly raised. A thin ridge appeared to encase her upper thighs, extending back around and out of sight. This elevation continued across her quads, about mid-thigh level. The tight, smooth appearance of her jeans was gone.
Walking through the door and into the building she tried the slightest of shimmies she could muster, while with her free hand she tried to nudge those lines out.
It didn’t work. She kept walking.
A woman going through the building toward a different class happened to come by this part of the building right behind Jennifer. This new woman noticed Jennifer was walking a bit funny, as if Jennifer was trying to walk out those notable bunches in her underwear.
Jennifer’s frustration mounted and again with her cluttered hands she tried to reorient the offending undergarment. In one of her motions she leaned forward, involuntarily allowing her coat and undershirt to ride up exposing the small of her back above the top of her jeans.
The woman trailing behind Jennifer caught sight of this exposure. She read the capitalized black lettering of “Tommy Hilfiger” inscribed atop white elastic, and below that white band a flash of solid red marked a standard pair of ill-fitting men’s boxers.
No wonder she was constantly adjusting her pants – her boyfriend’s boxers under these skinny jeans was not the wisest choice. She stifled a giggle at the odd scene.
Jennifer heard the giggle and froze. She realized the woman that she now saw walking past her to the right had been behind her at the very moment she bent forward. She knew this woman had seen her lean forward, awkwardly with her bags and treats, trying to settle her suddenly uncooperative panties. She knew this stranger especially saw those panties become exposed above her jeans.
Jennifer also know they shouldn’t have ridden up that high on her body.
Jennifer remained fixed as this bout of embarrassment simmered, and she looked to a clock adorned on one of the walls. It was already 11. With one last straightening of the ridges under her jeans she made the decision to abandon class and investigate the mysterious goings on inside her pants.
In her hurried walk toward the women’s restroom Jennifer began to feel a subtle tingle. The bizarre way her bunched panties were feeling were met with an irritation below them, emanating from her skin. It centered around her groin, a little bit was felt on her tummy too. She even notice a sensation down her legs.
Pushing open the restroom doors Jennifer aimed for a stall. She was relieved to be alone, and after pushing open a stall door she tried her best to place her belongings around the floor and on the toilet’s lid in order to free her arms up. She found a way to do so and then hurriedly unbuttoned her jeans to yank them down.
Her hurried efforts brought her underwear down too due to the tightness of her jeans…and she gasped.
Inexplicably her panties were gone.
And she was grotesquely hairy.
Odd grunts of confusion came from her throat as she struggled to comprehend the sight before her – between her legs was not the smooth, trim line of pubic hair she maintained so diligently or the lacy cheeky Victoria’s Secret panties she wore to feel so sexy.
A thick bush of brown hair crawled its way upwards from her groin, thinning in to a triangle - finishing around her navel where this dark hair encircled it. Along her groin, up to the edge of her thighs, her dense hair hid her pale skin below. She even saw sparser hairs reach down her thighs into the depths of the space her jeans and underwear still covered.
Her panties were nowhere in sight as the underwear was red Tommy Hilfiger men’s boxers.
Still no coherent sound came from her in attempt to explain these mysterious changes.
And at that moment the bathroom door opened. The air pressure slightly pushed ajar Jennifer’s stall door – and the surprise caused Jennifer to suddenly jump, knocking her bag onto the bathroom floor and spilling some items.
The woman walking into the bathroom was herself looking for an open stall, she past Jennifer’s stall but did look into it through the doorway’s opening.
And gasped.
................................
Been working on this a few weeks, notice how dated some of the topics are. I hold Zeron's work so highly so I hope this comes off good. Any ides float them here - I still have an idea as to where I want to take this and I also still have my other story ideas saved to documents so I can post them here. Any ideas on those too are appreciated.