Nolan was still in shock as he walked down the steps. As he took each step, everything in his body felt alien to him. The movement of his new breasts. The smoothness of the panties where he should have something else. The boots on his feet and the feeling of pantyhose with each movement. All of it was so strange to him.

He had been up there, well, he didn't know how long, maybe fifteen minutes, maybe several hours. Time seemed to not have much meaning as he processed what he was feeling and experiencing. Looking at the old mirror at himself didn't help. Him feeling himself to see if this was real didn't help. Nothing seemed to snap him into legitimate thought about his new condition. Even his walking down the steps seemed like a detached part of him told him to, like another person spurred him to take each step down.

He finally got down to the bottom of the steps, looking down the hallway of the second floor of the old house. He couldn't even remember exactly why he was in here or what his purpose was, though he knew he had one upon entering. None of that seemed important now. His mind was on autopilot, and he slowly made his way to the front door. What he'd do there or once he was outside he had no idea. All he knew was he couldn't stay here.