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Tony wanted nothing more than to be normal. But he kept changing. He had been for some time now and he couldn’t stop it. Yesterday he had been a twelve-year-old girl.

Tony had woken up lost in his own clothes. He had woken up smaller before, but never this small. When he sat up his T-shirt covered his body like a tent. His shorts fell off as soon as he stood and his watch fell to the floor with a loud clunk.

Oh, great, he thought when he stood on his tiptoes to see into the bathroom mirror. He only managed to see himself from the neck up. Two large, doe eyes, ice blue, stared back at him. Tony’s hair fell around his face in soft, light brown curls. He had a small, upturned nose--a little piggish. Puffy cheeks and soft pouting lips.

Well, at least I’m cute, he thought and shrugged. Unlike when he had woken up and found himself in a collapsed bed and rolls of fat pooling out around him. Tony didn’t like being a 500-pound woman with a bladder problem. He had lain there trying to fall asleep for hours, hoping he’d wake up normal again. Or normal in the way his fucked up life was normal. Which wasn’t very, but it wasn’t wallowing around in his own filth because he was too fat to get up. And not being able to get up meant he couldn’t go outside and meet and talk to people, live as the person for a while. It was what he was meant to do and if he did then he would change back to himself sooner and hopefully when he changed back this time it would stick. So when he was stuck in bed, he was stuck there for a long time. So, being a 500-pound woman, bedridden and filthy, sucked because it really wasn’t fair. Of course none of this was fair... Or maybe it was.

At least in this body he could go out and see what it was like to be a little girl for a day. So, there were times when Tony just couldn’t go out at all, but there were also the times he just didn’t want to. Sometimes he changed into someone society couldn’t handle and the psychological pain suffered from people’s stares was worse than the physical pain he had sometimes received. Tony did have the benefit of knowing that he wouldn’t be in the body for long, but who knew what he would be next. It could be a thousand times worse.

So being a little girl was fine. This could be fun, Tony thought while touching the small buds of breasts on his chest.

“I’m blossoming into a beautiful young woman,” he laughed. Then the first cramp hit him. And the laughter stopped.

Tony dropped to his knees, screaming, “Holy shit!” Then another hit and Tony was soon dry heaving over the toilet. “Goddamnit!” he yelled between heaves. “Of course this couldn’t be easy--could it, you fucker?” And from somewhere--a distant echo trapped in Tony’s mind perhaps--Tony could hear a soft chuckling. And under his breath, Tony said again, “You fucker,” as he slowly collapsed to the floor, curling his little body into a ball on the small bathroom rug.

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