Groggy and half-awake, you stir against your rumpled bedsheets, the morning sunlight warm on your face. You stretch your arms, muscles tight from sleep—then freeze. Something’s off.

The weight hits you next—a deep, unfamiliar pull on your chest as you shift upright. Your sleep shirt strains against two swollen mounds, the fabric taut where it wasn’t before. You slide a hand beneath the hem, fingertips meeting soft, plush curves that spill over your palm, nipples stiff under your touch. The rest of you is unchanged—your face, your arms, your hips, all exactly as they were yesterday. Only your chest is different: heavy, full, and unmistakably female.

The room is quiet—sunlight filters through half-closed blinds, the clock ticks on the bedside table, and the faint hum of morning traffic drifts through the window. You sit there, the new weight of your body shifting with every breath.

How do you react?