Chapter One - Masquerade
Clark slowly walked down the stairs, taking them carefully, one at a time, getting used to walking in his new body.
When he came into the kitchen, he was suddenly very self-conscious, even though, by now he should have known that his parents would support and stand by him no matter what happened to him. Still, that didn't stop the unpleasant mix of terror and embarrassment creeping through his dainty little body.
"Clark." Jonathan said as he entered the room. "How do you feel…?" Clark noticed that he couldn't quite bring himself to say 'son'.
"Small." He answered honestly, seating himself at the kitchen table with his parents. He hoped they didn't notice that he had been crying. Chloe's tear ducts seemed to be more active than his own.
A loud knock sounded at the door, and Clark drew in a sharp breath. What was he going to do now?
Jonathan leaned back in his chair to look out the window. Chloe's red VW Beetle was parked in the Kent's driveway.
"It's Chloe." He said, and Clark uneasily got up to answer the door.
He pulled it open, and gasped. He had never gasped before in his life, but it just seemed to fit.
There was his body, standing on the front porch, shivering, and with a very strange expression on his face.
And if that wasn't weird enough, he was also holding a tiny fluffy pink bathrobe tight around himself, and the hem of a little frilly nightie was visible out the bottom, stretched out of shape.
"Do you know anything about this?" He asked
"C-Chloe?" Clark gaped, shocked, although also highly disturbed, and if he was honest, quite embarrassed at the image of himself wearing a pink dressing gown, stretched tight across his torso. He didn't want his parents to see 'him' like this, (especially considering the gown only just reached his knees, and the nightie even less) but he knew he had to invite Chloe in before anyone else saw.
She hurried inside, and Clark shut the door behind them.
"What are you wearing?" Was all he could bring himself to say. He knew it sounded insensitive, but even though Chloe may not have noticed them yet, Clark was full aware of his Mom and Dad, staring open mouthed at his body, only just clad in tight pink frills and fur.
"It's the only thing I had that even came close to fitting you!" She said defensively. "And you'd better be glad they didn't have it in my size when I bought it!"
"C-Clark, I think you'd better get Chloe some clothes." Martha suggested, calling Chloe's attention to the kitchen. She suddenly felt extremely embarrassed. She had thought they were alone.
"They know." Clark explained. "Mom woke me up this morning."
"They know?" Chloe repeated stupidly.
"Yeah." Clark said, then turned and dashed up the stairs. Chloe glanced once more at Martha and Jonathan, then followed.
Once Clark had picked out an outfit for Chloe, he left her to get dressed into jeans, tan leather boots and her choice of red or blue plaid.
She was glad, but also fearful to shed her dressing gown and nightie, but once she had gotten Clark's boxers on, she figured it was smooth sailing from then on.
She zipped up the jeans and selected the red plaid shirt, but caught sight of herself in Clark's large, full length mirror, and found herself putting the shirt down and going to inspect further.
She still had quite a major thing for Clark, and now, she found herself in his body, standing shirtless in his room, with a huge inviting mirror on the wall. All she wanted to do was look. And touch. Maybe touch.
As she stepped in front of the mirror, she felt a flood of emotions.
First of all, she was extremely weirded out to be looking at Clark, who was actually her, and being turned on, so she was actually turning herself on. But there were also secondary emotions, like fear, confusion and worry, but most of all - lust.
She turned from side to side, admiring his six-pack, surprised at the muscularity of Clark's body. It was an impressive physique, for a farm boy.
After a few minutes, she decided that she had to stop, and reluctantly put the shirt on.
Anyone who had been looking in the window just then would have seen Clark staring lustfully into the mirror, pressing his hands against his bare stomach and chest.
As if I haven't done enough to destroy Clark's reputation already Chloe thought, looking guiltily at the pink bathrobe and remembering the awful drive over to the Kent's, and trying to cram Clark's body into her tiny VW.
She glanced one last time, then left the room and trotted downstairs.