Any Bobbi 01

Unscrunch

It had seemed like a good idea at the time.

Bobbi had been very pleased with her latest purchase: a hoodie crop top and leggings that was designed to alter in size and shape when she altered her body with her shapeshifting powers. When it had arrived yesterday, she couldn’t wait to put it to the test. But she had a heap of coursework from her students to mark and she knew if she didn’t get that out of the way first, it’d be hanging over her all weekend.

Consequently, it was late on when she finally got to wear it in front of the full-length mirror in her bedroom that had seen so many of her transformations. Her customary appearance was short and full-figured, and she wore her hair in the close crop favoured by many shifters who, since they could quickly get any style they fancied, kept it that way for convenience. She had ordered the outfit with her usual self in mind and was pleased that it had fitted well. She was even more pleased when she grew to six feet in height, lengthening her legs and back, but reducing her breast size, and the outfit still accommodated her perfectly. She hadn’t intended to change her hair, but as if inspired by the evening’s theme of lengthening, it now came down past her shoulders.

Bobbi's molecules always seemed to 'fizz' for a while after scrunching them, so she didn’t particularly want to test her outfit with any further changes right now. But her curiosity was piqued by how well it worked. If she took it off, would it stay as it was now or would it revert to its original shape? Footwear made from Lastileather, like the favourite boots Bobbi was wearing now, was fairly widespread. Although it didn’t pinch, it always snapped back if taken off a foot that had grown. Is that what would happen with her top and leggings? Only one way to find out...

Bobbi took off her hoodie, placed it on her bed and stared at it, daring it to change. Nothing seemed to happen so she picked it up and put it back on.

Same size. Hmm.

Her leggings also kept their shape. Had they been connected to her transformation somehow? She was still feeling a bit 'fizzy', so she didn’t want to try scrunching without wearing them just yet. But in order to keep the experiment going, she didn’t put them back on and instead fished out an old pair of pyjama bottoms with a drawstring. They were halfway up her legs, but comfortable enough. The hoodie, she kept on, under some vague notion of comparing what might happen to it versus the leggings. Yes, she would wait until her molecules had calmed down a bit and perform another test. But as she lay back on her bed, intending only to rest for a few minutes, the couple of glasses of wine that had helped her get through her marking work that evening also helped her drift off to sleep.

It was morning when she woke, and Bobbi groggily took stock of what had happened. Ugh. She saw the leggings on the bed next to her and slowly recalled her project of the previous night. With interest, she noted that they had, at some point, reverted to their original size. Great. With no idea when that had actually happened, she was no wiser as to how they worked. She caught sight of herself in the mirror and took a second to recognise who it was she was seeing. Ah. It was time for her to revert to her original size too.

She sighed and relaxed the muscles she used to reshuffle her molecules, happy to let them unscrunch. Her hair quickly retreated to its shorter style, shooting back like a released roller blind. But nothing else changed.

Bobbi frowned. Oh, it was irritating when this happened. She had stayed in this form for too long and her atomic structure had decided it was quite happy with how it was arranged now, thank you very much. She would have to make the effort to rescrunch back to her usual appearance. Groaning in complaint, she stood up, knowing it was as well to get this sorted straight away.

It wasn’t the first time it’d happened. She didn’t often stay out all night in another body – for whatever reason! - but when it had she had had to go through the same routine. To help, she’d had a few full-length photos of herself – her actual self – taken and she got these out of a nearby drawer and blu-tacked them to the mirror. Time to get started.

Scrunch!

A quick flex of her muscles and she shrank by several inches, her ankles disappearing under the folds of her pyjamas. On one corner of her wardrobe was a scribble line marking her height, like the ones a parent might scrawl to show how their child was growing. Measuring up against it using her hand, she discovered she was still half an inch too tall. A gentle squeezing of Bobbi’s scrunch muscles sorted that out.

She undid the drawstring on her pyjamas, then placed her hands on her midriff the better to enjoy the sensation of her waistline expanding as she pushed and restored its shape. Then she moved them round to her butt and smiled as she encouraged it back to full size.

A mild bout of dizziness washed over her as the sensuality of her transformation and the ‘fizzing’ of her molecules fought each other. These intense, detailed scrunches were like a rollercoaster ride. They were fun, but you wouldn’t want them to go on for too long. Best to keep on.

Bobbi placed her hands behind her head and as her breasts moved forward in response she pushed further and scrunched them back to a much fuller size. Again, the crop hoodie matched her shape perfectly. She didn’t have to check her measurements this time – she was confident she had got it just right.

Leaning closer in to the mirror, it was now time to tidy up her face. Referring to the photos, she rounded out her chin, filled out her nose ever so slightly, adjusted her cheeks and brow into familiarity. Cheekily, she gave herself pointed ears and growled, before returning them to normal. The post-scrunch ‘fizz’ around her face put paid to the last of her wine-fuelled grogginess and she felt comfortably back to her own self.

Job done, but Bobbi wasn’t entirely happy. That was half of her weekend plans gone to pot. She couldn’t do any more scrunching for the rest of the day, at least not if she wanted her molecules to settle back into her usual shape so she wouldn’t have to go through this palaver again.

Oh well. Lately, it seemed like whenever she left the house it was in a body other than her own. It might be nice to spend a bit of time as herself.

For a change.