Freaking Witches

The Morning After

Dean woke, to the sound of his phone ringing. The sound tore Dean from his light sleep and he found himself squinting against the bright morning light filtering through the shitty curtains. The moment that his mind became fully conscious Dean knew something was terribly wrong.

His body felt strange and unfamiliar. He couldn't explain why, but everything just seemed to feel...wrong. He shook off the feeling for the moment as he reached out to grab his phone. Dean's eyes widened in shock when he noticed that the arm he was moving could not be his own reaching out for the phone.

Dean gasped and sat up abruptly. He had to have been imagining that right? He became even more surprised when wispy strands of something soft and silky fell into his eyes. In frustration Dean tried to bat the strands away but his fingers got tangled in it instead. He tried to pull his hands away but stopped immediately when the strings sent pain into his head.

What the hell? Dean thought to himself.

Dean freed his hand and ran his fingers along the top of his head. He quickly learned that the silky stuff in his face was hair; his hair; his long blonde hair. The longest strands of hair came to rest midway down his chest, tickling his skin as he moved.

Dean was in shock. He brushed the hair out of his face with too small hands feminine hands. His mind was spinning as he tried to comprehend what had happening. His heart was sinking as he formed an impossible explanation for why he felt different, had long hair, and tiny hands.

Dean looked over and saw Sam still snoozing lightly. He couldn't let his brother see him like this. Quickly he scrambled off the bed and rushed into the bathroom, stumbling as he tripped over his pants which had now become too long for him. Dean was forced to grab onto his pants because they physically would not stay up around Dean's slender waist.

When he made it into the bathroom he quickly but quietly locked the door behind him. Dean took a shaky breath before hesitantly turning around to look in the mirror behind him.

What he saw nearly made him faint.

Instead of the usual tough, male face that always reflected back at him, Dean saw the small, frightened face of a young, unfamiliar, yet attractive woman. The woman in the mirror had long, sandy blonde hair and eyes so green that they were impossible to mistake for anyone's eyes but his own. She even had the same scattering of freckles across her face. Every detail of the face screamed delicate but tough.

As Dean moved slightly the lady in the mirror moved too. Every movement he made, every blink of his eyes, or twitch of his nose the woman mimicked perfectly. This was impossible.

Dean finally decided to give up trying to keep his pants on and watched as they fell to the ground around his tiny ankles. His boxers slipped off too and left him wearing only a t-shirt.

Dean continued to examine his new body, still in disbelief. His hands traveled to his chest to clutch at... a boob. Wait, he had boobs now! Dean smirked to himself, momentarily distracted as he cupped and squeezed at his breasts. That was something he could totally get on board with.

Urged on by pure curiosity Dean lifted his arms and stripped out of his oversized AC-DC shirt to he would be completely naked. Before the shirt had even hit the floor Dean's eyes dropped down to focus on his bare chest. Dean was pleased to see a nice pair of perky breasts resting in content on his chest. He could appreciate their perfect beauty even if they were a little small for his taste. Boobs were boobs to Dean, no matter how big or small. They were still fun to play with no matter the size. Eventually his eyes drifted across the rest of his chest. Despite the differences that his new body had, there were still features that Dean would recognize anywhere. His dark anti-possession tattoo still stood out sharply against tanned skin. The large assortment of scars he had acquired from hunting over the years still modeled his body, reflecting all the close calls he had experienced in his life. He followed the scars down further south, moving his eyes down his toned stomach and to his boney hips. Dean's jaw tightened and his heart plummeted in his chest when he spotted the clump of thin dark hair between his legs; the place where little Dean was supposed to be. Dean's world seemed to spin a little and he had to grasp the sink in order to keep from falling over. His dick was gone. His manhood had been stripped away from him. Who the hell would take away a man's dick? That had to be a crime against humanity!