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I awoke feeling groggy and lethargic in an unfamiliar surroundings. My body is slouched inside what appears to be a cage in a much larger room. A cell no wider than I am and not tall enough for me to stand in. Looking to the right and left, my eyes still refocusing, I see more cages like mine. Most are empty save just a few to my left. There I see at least two slumped over in a similar state wearing dingy burlap sacks. I come to see I'm wearing one too. It has 'Test Jonas' written on the front in white chalk and is the only clothing I was wearing. The larger room itself is one I've never been in and is dim in light and full of many murmuring, indistinct voices. My body feels like it's coming from a deep sleep with my body weak and lethargic. What the hell is going on?

Trying to move I find my hands are bound with a thin silvery rope that was stronger than it looked. My feet are free but I don't think I have the strength or equilibrium to stand. Need to gather myself quickly. As I do I search my memory for how I may have gotten to this strange place but the last thing I can recall was singles' night at a local bar. Some fractured memories of chatting to a raven haired woman with red eyes bled into my waking here caged as I am. Fear sets in quickly as I try to cry out only to find myself mute. I could form words and speak them but it was as if it died in my throat. Adding immensely to the sense of dread that's coming over me.

Another minute passes and my senses grow sharper. The view out the front of the cage was one waist high solid wood wall with the room beyond sounding like it was below where I was now. I can spy a staircase leading down off to my right so that makes sense. There sounded like a lot of people down there whispering to each other. At least until a single stern, scholarly voice rose up from the discord and quieted it immediately.

"A well executed effort, Miss Gabrielle. A succinct transformation accomplished with minimal waste. Someone has been doing their homework. Let that be a lesson to rest of y'all about how this test is supposed to be performed," announced an older man with a southern twang in his voice. "That's a pass for you, Miss Gabrielle. TA Ramona will take that frog off your hands. That means you're up, Mr. Howard. As for who is on-deck afterwards, I have... Mr. Jonas. So fetch your designated subject while Mr. Howard finds out what shape his polymorph exam will take."

The man spoke like a teacher of some sort which gave me some notion of where I was. A classroom or lecture hall seemed likely but didn't do much to explain why I was there but much of what he said didn't make any sense to me. My ears do prick up at the mention of Jonas, but to what end I don't know. Hushed whispers resume as I hear footsteps marching up the stairs to the right. My heart is racing as I try to shake my body awake for whatever is coming.

When I saw the young man, barely twenty years old, at first I thought this had to be some kind of joke. He's scrawny, pale, and appears as nervous as I am. He spies me and rushes over, muttering to himself the whole way to my cage door wearing a fitted green woolen sweater and black slacks that brought to mind some kind of school uniform. I can hear him better when he's closer but he's just saying, "Please be mammal, please be mammal," over and over.

The man I can only assume is Jonas is clearly not skittish about my predicament as he throws open my cage with a wave of his hand. With that same hand he motions me up to my feet whereupon the strength to stand returns and I rise until banging my head on the metal roof. Jonas shows me no empathy towards my muted howls of pain, simply waving away the restraints on my legs then motioning me to exit. I feel compelled to do his bidding, stumbling out of the cage despite my will trying to resist. This at least allows me to see over the fall in front of me to confirm that I was being kept at the back of a grand lecture hall.

'How is he doing this?' I wonder in disbelief. Some invisible force puppets me that I can't fathom. I don't feel drugged or hypnotized. There's no electronic collar shocking me and I don't see any strings so what is this? It certainly isn't magic. That's not real. 'But do these people know that?" I shiver as I feel the student's eyes on me. All of them with the same low regard of me like I wasn't human. This being the most vivid nightmare I've ever had seems the best explanation but then why am I not awake? Can I please wake-up?

There are seventy students at least, men and women, all wearing the same uniforms as they sat in theater seating sharing long desks in a total of ten rows. Most have their eyes trained down where a portly old man in blue and gold robes leans his weight on a lectern positioned off to the right. At the center of the floor was a raised circular platform made of well nicked and scratched wood. It's some fifteen feet in diameter and currently has a student standing alongside a man in a burlap sack with 'Test Howard' scrawled on his chest. The student is also joined by a raven haired woman in scarlet robes holding black cauldron. From which Howard pulls a scrap of paper he promptly hands to the teacher.

I reach the bottom still in tow to Jonas where I'm made to get on my knees by the student near the back of the room. I'm left feeling very exposed and confused as I try gathering my thoughts. Can't shake the feeling that something bad is going down and that I am perhaps about to witness a murder. Right before my own. This place certainly is giving me that vibe. Fuck, I need to escape. But I can't even move my body without this kid's approval it seems.

What I could have done to deserve this is beyond me. I imagine the one in the burlap sack on stage is thinking the same thing judging his expression. Like me he's frozen where he stands and only can move his upper body and arms, not that it does any good. He's madly mouthing mute words to everyone and then looks over at me, petrified, and mouths something I like 'save me' or 'help me'. Neither sit well with me. He looks away to the teacher with more silenced begging that is easily ignored.

"It appears Mr. Howard has pulled a squirrel. I also want to see some speed out of you, Mr. Howard. See we're not all waiting more than five minutes for you to wrap this up. Your polymorph test starts now," the teacher told the student, snapping his fingers to flip the hourglass sitting on his lectern.

"Yes, Professor Fitts. Squirrel polymorph coming up," Howard nods. Compared to Jonas, Howard is collected and cool in his movements. Clearly he knows what he's doing, whatever that may be. Making him more chilling than my own captor as for sure. The student stands at the edge of the stage and has a sneer going when a strange purple light starts emanating from his hands. Arcane hand gestures further ignite the violet light into a blaze which he points in his captive's direction. "Cilid'hizlas sicab'adonu ne'dersyn," bellows the humble student in a deeply warped voice.

Saying the words causes the violet blaze to lift from his hands and zap square into the chest of the captive man with his arms up. It passes right through his hands and when it hits him he spasms violently several times, arm clawing at the air. Next he's got his arms around his stomach in obvious pain. He's in obvious pain and distress, however no one makes a move except for a few that rise from their seats expectantly.

I expect any second he'll curl over dead but he manages to stay upright. His body is shivering like he's got hypothermia but I can see the sweat pouring off him. Skin is flush red and in places like his nose and ears it even looks like it's sagging off him. Then I see these same areas swelling up from something like an allergic reaction. But his nose looks like it's actually getting bigger. Soon his ears were too along with the swelling spreading to his upper lip. This makes him open his mouth, revealing front teeth overgrown and not even human. The hairs on his head and face are also taking on inhuman characteristics that made it more rough and thick like fur. And I can see it on his neck, arms, and legs too.

My growing shock is plastered on my face while the students observe, Professor Fitts reviews, and a confident Howard looks like he's actually enjoying it. This sick display didn't change when the captive showed signs that his body was shrinking. I didn't think it was possible but that burlap sack gets a lot bigger on his diminishing frame. As if his body was collapsing in on itself. Chilling sounds of cracking, shifting, or popping bones bring no reaction from anyone be me. I'm cringing and feeling my stomach turn watching this man disappear in front of me.

But he isn't just disappearing. He's physically transforming into something else. I briefly glimpsed a wormy piece of flesh growing from his backside until the burlap sack enveloped his body. With everything else I think, 'Was that a tail? Are those whiskers? And were his nails always that long?'. Seconds later it clicks in my head that they aren't killing him. They're changing him into something grotesque.

Hardly more than two minutes must have gone by and a close to six foot tall man was currently struggling to keep his head from being the last thing to disappear into the sack. But more useless clawing is all he can manage as he shrinks out of sight. By now more students are standing to get a better look. Meanwhile I'm here wishing I didn't have to watch this. Not when I know that I'm next for this treatment. I have to fight this. I can't go out like that. Not like that.

"I'm liking what I'm seeing, Mr. Howard," comments Professor Fitts as he takes some notes. "Didn't keep me waiting either. Let's hope you stick the landing."

"Thank you, Professor. Should be over in a few seconds," promises Howard.

"Excellent. Ready yourself, Mr. Jonas. I want to keep this train moving," the professor advises the student I'm unwillingly bound to right now.

"Y-Yes, Professor," Jonas acknowledged restlessly.

I simply cannot make myself move no matter how hard I try. I can feel my legs, have what feels like control but they don't respond when I tell them to move. Screaming at the top of my lungs isn't to make a sound either. I'm just as powerless to free myself as he is. If he's even there anymore. I see something moving around in the sack but barely enough to make me think those are just death throes. I've never been this terrified in my life. Thirty-six years old and it ends like this for me? No, not me. Please, please, please, not me...

A puff of purple smoke billows out from the empty sack brings a triumphant Howard up onto the stage. Strolling over to where I saw a man standing just four minutes ago the student reaches down and pulls a gray squirrel from the sack by its tail. Making me think that didn't just happen but unable to deny that it did. Hard to deny what I'm seeing with my own eyes but maybe because it's looming over me too I'm begging myself to wake up from this. That or for these people to see the insanity in what they're doing.

"Another prompt, efficiently carried out polymorph spell. Properly good execution, Mr. Howard. Expected nothing less from you. Hand that rodent off my TA and make room for our next student. Someone I have more reserved expectations for," Professor Fitts chuckles. Adding to Jonas's already palpable anxieties but not as much as mine. "I have Miss Cassandra on-deck so if you can please grab your test subject," he further instructs.

Jonas hesitates, letting Howard hand off his rat to the same raven haired woman that had been holding the cauldron earlier. Howard then took the emptied sack as a trophy, stepping off the stag just as Jonas steps forward to take his place. Bringing me along despite my every muscle attempting to resist. My arms are free to flail only briefly. Jonas clenching his hand forces my arms tight against my body so that I stand at mock attention in the middle of the stage.

Every eye is on me. Each one, other than the teacher in charge of this travesty, is fifteen years my junior at least. Making it somehow worse for me. Maybe it's the crooked looks, the unsympathetic eyes, the way they whisper comments just loud enough for me to hear. They were taking bets on what would become of me, which hurts. Others aren't talking about me at all but stare like I'm already some rat or toad. Giving me feelings that maybe I was really in some version of hell.

I can see out of the corner of my eye the TA dropping the squirrel in a waiting cage wet right beside the black cauldron. Which she takes and returns with, presenting it to Jonas. It's filled with small scraps of folded paper that apparently will decide what way I'll be tortured. Unless a reprieve is due to me, I think I might be screwed.

"Let's see what you pick, Mr. Jonas. Something that improves on your mid-term effort I should hope," chortles the professor. Sparking giggles amongst the students. Which just adds to my already sky high anxiety.

Jonas looks very nervous as he digs into the cauldron. As he does the TA, Ramona, looks down at me and gives me quickest mischievous winks. With her eyes glowing red she just makes my skin crawl. She's back to grinning assistant a second later when Jonas pulls his paper out. I try to read what it says but Jonas barely opens it to glimpse the result himself. Judging by the color draining from his face I feel I'm about to receive major surgery by a first year med student. Making my terrible situation somehow worse.

Ramona steps off stage while Jonas does the same in order to hand the professor the scrap of paper, eliciting an amusing smile from the old man. "A keen test for you, Mr. Jonas. As for the rest y'all, Mr. Jonas will be showing off an alligator polymorph. A clean one we can only hope," Professor Fitts broadcast to the class. Then to Jonas he adds, "Don't press yourself to finish as quickly as Mr. Howard, son. I'll give you... say, Ramona, how much time is left in class?" he asks the TA.

"About twenty-five minutes, Professor," Ramona answers dutifully.

"Thank ya. Well, how about ten minutes, Mr. Jonas? That should be more than enough time I'd reckon to show us a gator. Consider your test begun," the professor says, snapping his fingers to spin the hourglass once more.

"Alligator. I know that one. I think," I hear Jonas say in a voice that inspires no confidence in me.

It has me silently screaming 'No! Please, don't do this! You'll kill me!' at him to no effect.

Jonas's only concern for me is that I turn out the way he wants to get him whatever counts for a passing grade in this hell hole of a school. I'm powerless as I watch the nervous student take up a similar stance to Howard with hands up in preparation for whatever accursed spell he plans to perform. A faint sage green light kindles at the tips of Jonas's fingers rather than the controlled flame of the student before him. My perception of time slows down in those fateful moments of the emerald magic engulfing my keeper's hands. I can't bear to see what's coming so I desperately swing my head the other way where I see a haunting image.

I see standing-in the same place Jonas had me while waiting for the stage, another student, a blonde girl, and another sack wearing captive, a doe eyed brunette, with just as much fear in her eyes as I had when in her position. 'Help me! We're just test material to them and they going to fucking change me into a god damned alligator! That's if this idiot doesn't fuck it up and kill me! I don't want to die! Please, help! This can't be happening!' I mouth to her. I know she probably can't understand but it's all I can really do. Looks as confused as I was when I saw that man turned into a squirrel. Now I'm the example of things to come. Feel like I'm having a panic and heart attack simultaneously. So I keep mouthing pleas until starts casting his spell on me.

"Ek'stra'yimyua tim'shal'cebilir myn'ko," Jonas says in a warbling voice.

I can't help but turn just in time to see a bolt of green lightning impact my sternum before I can react. I feel it sink into my flesh like a frozen ball of fire. A cold sweat starts as the magic fire spreads through me, causing cramping, bloating, an aching that reverberates from marrow to dermis. My skin is truly crawling now. Somehow I'm developing symptoms of the flu, food poisoning, migraine and hernia in maybe thirty seconds. I'm in a considerable amount of pain and the expanding discomfort is heightened by being unable to move my arms or legs. There is some counter numbness too that keeps it from excruciating levels but that hardly stops me screaming a bloody murder I knew no one one around me would heed.

During these initial moments I catch a glimpse of the professor shaking his head but think nothing of it. However despite a growing ringing in my ear I can make out a glowering Professor Fitts tell the students, "Quiet, please. If you caught it then please keep it to yourselves for the time being. And as for you, Mr. Jonas, answer me quickly and honestly, was that the right way to cast the spell I asked for?"

Chills came over me when I heard Jonas shakily answer, "I, ummm, pretty sure... I mean, that was definitely an alligator that I did. Right?"

I can hear some students laughing. Then Fitts responds, "Good enough for government work maybe but for my class? Take mental note of how this unfolds, Mr. Jonas. I'll be expecting a damage report from you on your test's outcome along with your term paper by end of day Friday," I hear him further instruct.

Jonas groans as if he's been the most wronged here. "A damage report? Do I really have to?" he cries.

"You heard me, Mr. Jonas. Best you mind your demonstration for its duration," he tells Jonas. He says more but my body feels like it's about to explode from the inside out, leaving me unable to grasp the world around me.

It's just me on this stage as my bones bulge visibly just under my rough, red skin. Nowhere is this more prevalent than the area from my tailbone and thoroughly into my ass. A horrible sensation like my whole backside was about to melt off my body has me worried that's exactly what's happening. I try looking behind myself but it's too difficult. So I feel rather than see internal swelling from my tailbone literally pushing down into my rump. Rolls of graying skin mass all the way to my hips, splaying my stance wickedly. Allowing me sight of the still elongating tip of my tailbone that hangs from my backside.

I know it's a tail back there but I can't accept it. Even as its growth forces my anus to migrate awkwardly near my dangling cock and balls. Speaking of, my dick has a raging erection going despite everything going on but that was one of a million concerns I have. More of my skin is coming over rough and scaly with the graying around my ass spreading up my back, stomach, and down my legs, and tail. Not long after these gray spots take on shade somewhere between olive and brown with shapes forming that I know are scales. I've had no time to process the very fact that I'm turning into an alligator of all things. How does that even work? Because from how I feel it doesn't seem like it fucking works.

"This late in the term I shouldn't need to remind a student to remove any restraint spell once their test element's on the platform. Damn thing is crooked as a dog's hind leg up there, Mr. Jonas. Take care of it," orders the professor.

A moment later and I can actually move my arms and legs again which catches me off guard. My arms I can move well enough but with how big this tail is getting and how it's growing out of me, I can't stand like a human being anymore. That spell of Jonas's was all that kept me upright I guess because I fell flat on my stomach. Knocks the air out of me and crunches my nose against the wood floor.

What must be adrenaline gives me the strength and coordination to get my knees under me somewhat. My tail, growing flatter and longer still, makes it impossible to even kneel properly. I feel every new vertebrae pop into existence from where my tailbone used to be makes me sick to my stomach. Course my stomach and most other organs are also sick on their own. I can't recall a single thing I knew about alligator biology as it doesn't come up much for an office drone. All I know is the feeling. Same as the rest. Can feel my stomach tugging apart deep in butt. Something is happening to my lungs too but with my spine starting to stretch my torso it's just another problem on the pile.

In the same time I had witnessed a man become a squirrel I had grown close to three feet of stout reptilian tail and along with the shift of my legs, ass, and dick under me. Leaving me where one had is all that's keeping me from all fours. The more the tail grows the further forward I need to move to not be in worse pain. No denying either that my legs are shorter than they were. Not to mention either that from my lower back down my tail and wrapping to my thighs, waist, and just now touching my mid-back and stomach. I spy protruding, bony scales down my back too which just make me look more like a gator. How my heart hasn't given out I don't know. I should be dead. I'm starting to wish I was...

The transformation expands into my calves and feet more. I didn't realize how much until I looked and saw I have four webbed toes now. Goes to show how insane this all is that I lost a toe- I think it was the little toe but it's hard to tell as the toes are also all near enough the same size- and got webbed feet without noticing. Means the hurt I'm feeling in my feet really is just another of the many body horrors I'm experiencing. Watching the foot shrink as the nails shape into darker, thicker claws is upsetting. Can't help scraping against the wood floor either when everything is changing and getting stubby down there. Everything but this tail. How can I even move with this thing? Is this what the professor meant by mistakes? How can they just let this happen to a person, let alone for some dopey- Ah! Fucking shit this... this is getting worse.

I'm determined not to go down like before so I compromise by falling on my right side. However I'm unable to stop myself rolling onto my flatter backside, flipping tail up and briefly leaving me more like a turtle caught on its back. No surprise I hear the students giggling at me for this. I see myself from this angle and it's hard not to throw up. My legs are barely half the size they used to be and it's clear they're still getting squatter. Just makes the tail look like it stretches for miles behind me. Does no favors to the dismal state of my genitals. Dick looks smashed in yet feels hard as a rock. Balls aren't much more than little raisins. Don't even know what a gator's dick looks like. I'd be happy if I didn't have to know.

A timely thought as it turns out as my words get twisted right in front of me. By that I mean both proceed to shrink away to barely until I struggle to see them in the undulating folds of my new underbelly. One fold in particular proves to actually be a fleshy opening; enveloping my testicles first and then the little pink nub that barely feels like a dick anymore. The pink slit I'm left with has me terrified of what that means. Even less so when my migrating anus and the growing slit merge into one. I silently scream my loudest yet.

"Are we beginning to understand what error we've made, Mr. Jonas?" I hear the professor chime in at this uncomfortable moment for me.

"I believe so, Professor," a despondent Jonas answers. "I made them female by accident. I think I may have slurred a word or two in my pronunciation."

"May have? Son, making this one a girl gator is a definite. Isn't the only mistake I heard you utter either. Which reminds me, Ramona, fetch some buckets for Mr. Jonas. He'll be needing them," Fitts tells his TA while still shaking his head at Jonas.

"Shit," Jonas curses.

He thinks he's having a bad day while I'm right here suffering the most. Not that a single person in that room cares though. Except maybe the next victim who I can see sobbing like any sane person would in their position. To the rest I'm a fucking object to be twisted as they see fit. My humanity is less important to them than laughing at some flunky student flubbing his test. Now as I feel the heavy scales moving up towards my shoulders I wonder when this will end. Then when it does, will I get my life back? Will this all be a nightmare or is this just the beginning of my life as a female alligator? Doing much more than wondering though is hard when the transformation feels far from over.

The sting from knowing I'm not male anymore is a deep one to my psyche. My sack rips open, falls off me, but it's not when I'm thinking about it. Feeling the organs down their rearranging into what I know are female is another new experience I never thought I'd collect. Making this ordeal worse is seeing all the faces of the students who just witnessed my cock and balls wither away to get replaced with this thing. I can see some taking notes, others whispering back and forth about how emasculating that would be for real. Again ignoring my reality. My sense of embarrassment reflects on my face and in my unending hushed cries.

I can feel the scales spreading to more parts of me- my legs including my feet, stomach, sides, and nears the tip of this tail. Burgeoning muscles in my newest appendage along with an uncanny new sense of control of the tail itself allows me to bend it to see the scales reaching the fleshy tip. Which itself was still eking out a final pair of inches to give my gator tail a length near enough to six feet to feel bigger than the rest of me. The short and stubby back legs add to the sense of how massive it really is. Contrast to the harder, armor-like scales that cover my tail and back, my belly and chest have a softer, paler yellow color. The only exception is a flash of moist pink when my reptilian slit unsealed. A sight I keep having to look away from. Isn't enough that I'm made a lizard but they take my sex too. It's beyond unfair or cruel at this point. If they can change me, they can fucking fix me.

My hopes are fruitless still as my arms are feeling the crunch. Skin is getting rougher and darker in complexion like it always did before the scales came. Stiffness in my joints makes either arm hard to move. Can feel my shoulders cranking at my arms, pulling them backwards while contracting elbows further gave my stumpier arms a fixed alligator's stance in the front like I do in the back. Fighting isn't working, not that I had much hope it would.

I try to flex my fingers to see if that helps keep the changes at bay but of course it's pointless. Darker nails are coming in already and each digit is getting harder to move. Taut, thin strips of flesh between the fingers made things even worse and was one of the most unpleasant things yet to watch. I think I'm glad I missed this happening to my feet. Seeing this grisly aspect develop made notice of diminished palm size or scales appearing from stocky wrists to plump shoulders.

Isn't just my shoulders that look and feel like they're putting on the pounds. Maybe it's from my limbs getting so small. The size and thickness of this tail is the only thing that's really grown so far. Leaving my extended trunk of a torso appearing chubby or bloated. Much of it settles in the softer scales of my reptilian underbelly the best I can tell. I'm having more trouble with my neck and shoulders which means my head is coming soon. I don't want to imagine what that will be like but I don't think I'll have to wait long to find out.

Panic setting in has me wishing I didn't put myself on my back. With how the transformation rapidly shifts everything from my neck down into a gator's four legged, low to the ground posture I'm finding myself unable to right myself. Arms are frozen and still shrinking while my legs lack the strength to flip me. I try at least with my tail but it only writhes me around on the stage, probably making me look extremely fucking pathetic. I felt some shame but just had to bear it. Not easy when my neck feels like it's about to snap.

A hollow, wet popping noise reverberates at the spot where my spinal cord met my skull. The first time simply hurt but successive pops forced my chin up and head back. I'm ratcheted back until I'm stuck with an upside down view thanks to being stuck on my back. It's as if every minute strives me to be worse than my last with cursed magic.

I hear the professor say, "Yes, Miss Janice?" to someone in the class likely raising their hand.

"Professor, could the polymorph be turned over? It's hard to see from the back," a female student replies.

"Can most certainly accommodate that request. Can't you, Mr. Jonas?" Fitts says to my hapless tormentor. "Just try not to hurt yourself and hurry up like you're trying to catch up to yesterday, son," he colorfully instructs.

"Yes, Professor. I'm on it," Jonas replies dutifully.

Upside down I can see him looking more afraid of me now than he ever has been. I know it's only because of what he's made me that keeps him at bay at the edge of the stage. But I'm fucking uncomfortable on my back so I try to keep still and tilt my body away from him hoping the little shit would take the hint. For once he shows some care for me and hurries up to get hands under my back. From there he pushes while I scramble my arms and legs until they're under me. I'm righted at last, my flabby underbelly smacking down on the floor hard. Jonas hops off the stage immediately, once again leaving me staring up awkwardly at all these students.

"Is that better, Professor?" Jonas asks.

"It'll do, Mr. Jonas. Might require some adjustments later but you'll tackle that when later comes. For now keep taking notes."

"Of course, Professor."

The exchange proves hard for me to hear on account of a swell of flesh and scales surging up my neck. Breathing is more ragged now and can't swallow either. Vocal cords definitely being obliterated currently might as well happen but seeing my hair falling out is what's scaring me now. Strands flutter past my eyes, as do my eyebrows, lashes, and whatever stubble I have on me. It's the prelude to what's about to happen. Keeps me feeling this would never somehow end. Earlobes hurting doesn't last long but only because I think what I feel is them disappearing. An aching of my gums flares up just as the armored scales arrive up over my shoulders. So unable to see the changes about to take my skull or do anything to stop them I shut my eyes hard as can be to at least spare myself all those juvenile stares. I can't be spared from perceiving it however.

I thought it would continue into the back of my skull from my neck but it's my jaw and nose the magic assaults. Swelling up as if I'd taken a brick to the face it pulls as the sides of either to widen my entire skull- an experience which forces my eyes open and keeps me from closing them again. So I now get to see my gaping nostrils separate and my upper lip curl. An image that burns itself into my mind along with all the others over the past... damn, I don't even know how time has gone by. Has it been five minutes? Ten? Thirty? If they say an hour I wouldn't be surprised. However much time has gone by, I've gained a few lifetime's worth of trauma I can never forget.

Now I feel the space between my eyes growing and it's disorientating me badly. Hard to notice that my eye sockets repositioning are what's really creating the sensation of my eyes getting further apart. An expanding field of vision with eyes I can't close means I see the entire room; from the professor at his lectern, over every pupil in front of me, and to the waiting student with her fearful captive; everything I want to hide from but can't.

My eyes aren't all I can shut currently since these changes are preventing my mouth from comfortably closing. It's getting too wide and big for me to get my stiff, rough lips anywhere close together. Now that I feel the bones pushing outward from my face I don't think it'll close its able. A time I refuse to accept because I'll never accept this as my life. I'll never-

"Ten minutes done and gone, Mr. Jonas. That's another strike against you on this one. Hang your hat, give me the proper species at least, son," the professor announces loudly. "Expect it to be knocked off the peg soon enough. In spectacular fashion," he adds, chuckling loudly and starting the whole class laughing.

Don't know if they were laughing at my or Jonas's expense. It deserves to be him but I know it's more of a split. Him for being a fuckup and me for being supremely fucked.

Teeth falling out is the next horrible stage in this living nightmare. My aching, transfiguring mouth is half the reason with the other coming from the new teeth sprouting where they used to be. I have nothing for holes for ears but I can clearly hear my teeth clattering on the stage under me. Stops when I run out of teeth to lose but my face keeps stretching forward. I thought the tail was bad but this, this is so much worse. No way to look away as my eyes still can't close. They're straining badly, watering, and I believe changing as well. Mercy is not having a mirror for this.

Feels like I have all this space in my mouth right now that shouldn't be there. The growing teeth and my tongue elongating doesn't overcome that sense I'll never really be able to close something so large. Mandible is on the floor and too heavy to lift. Top one suffers from stiffness that stretches to my new brow line. This was because from the nostrils to the top of my skull was leveling to come in line with the rest of my spine. There is nothing left of my face. It's been stretched and warped and, and... the scales are up to my scalp. I mean, what used to be scalp.

I'm suddenly stricken with a ballooning down in my gut where things had been settling down. I try to let it just pass but it persists. And getting worse. I go from thinking it's gas, to a full bladder, to at a loss for what's happening down between my hind legs. I feel... things in me. Round and small my scorched, desperate psyche tells me my balls are returning. Should know better than to hope at this point because now I feel at least five round objects growing in me. Ten seconds later and it's at least eight with more coming every few seconds. This while they keep getting bigger as well as longer, filling what may be my bowels.

Okay, not 'may' be my bowels. My cloaca was already wet but it's worked up to dripping moisture and leaking something gooey. I cringe hard from the feeling and again when I can smell it. It's not a pleasant smell but somehow I know what that smell means. I have a good idea how I know that: intruding instincts. Has to be. First my humanity, then my gender, and now it was my mind it seems. I have to fight because there's nothing if I don't. Losing game though it may be. If it is, let my last definite thought be a hope for a timely tornado that wipes this circus of a school out for good. And me too while we're at it.

It's eggs that are filling me up. Asking why doesn't go anywhere in this place so I don't bother wondering why beyond the cruelty of twisting the screws on a poor, broken man like me. I'm sure at least that Jonas doesn't see it happen to me until I've lost count of how many eggs I've got shifting around inside me. This distends my belly and triggers another instinct to lift my tail and rear end. It's then hard for Jonas to not see what he's done to me. A deflated sigh from him and I know he's the cause of this added, wholly unnecessary bit of cruelty.

"Are you beginning to understand what I meant by spectacular fashion, Mr. Jonas?" Fitts comments as he also has a clear view of my presenting rump. "Good thing Ramona is just back with some buckets to help you clean up your mess. Be a gentleman and take those off her hands for her."

"Yes, sir," I hear Jonas say, taking what sounds like six clanging metal buckets. Not a good sign for what's coming.

At a time where my mouth is filling with razor sharp teeth and I see scales traveling down my snout, the contractions in my bowels are what have my full attention. How couldn't it when I feel the individual eggs sliding down my uterus towards my winking cloaca. My new low point is here.

"Professor?" a student calls out from the audience.

"Yes, Mr. Ward?"

"We can't really see what's happening behind her. Can you turn her around?" asks the student, treating me as a prop of course.

"Don't see why not," the professor agrees.

I feel my feet freeze to the floor for the second it takes the stage to spin around almost completely. I regained control but now the whole class can see the first of my oval alligator eggs crown from me. Two contractions later and it plops out of me and onto the stage between my feet. More follows that I can't stop. Just like I can't stop all that laughing at me. Reducing me to little more than a joke in their eyes. I've been pushed to where I'm focusing on my face to not think about my ongoing laying of eggs. A sign of a new, lowest point for me. Doubt that'll stand for long.

All that I see left for the transformation to rob me of a few spots around my nostrils that we're armored like the rest of me. The tightness which has been keeping my mouth open fades to allow me the relief of closing it. When I do I still feel many of my upper teeth protruding down, likely intentionally. It's all academic I guess except for the one thing I still have some control over: my thoughts.

Unlike all the rest of me, my brain seems to be weathering the storm of magic. I do have a sense of this body and how to move. That's become an enhanced sort of intuition. It's what has me laying these eggs as I am. I feel relief and a dull kind of pleasure with each I push out of me that I can't imagine is human. Thinking of food waters my mouth for meat while a brief consideration of my sexuality brings up images of male alligators I don't want. But now I can't get them out of my head. I can feel them mixing with the rest of my consciousness.

I worry if this is the start of losing my mind but I temper it with the sad revelation that being a man stuck in a female alligator's body might be a worse fate. This impossible choice is all the fault of them. These wizards or witches or whatever they call themselves. They're heartless monsters for doing this to me or anyone...

This is so scary. It's close to over. The last scales are in place around the curve at the end of my snout. All the pain, agony, and hurt in me fades. Natural pains for a lady gator like hunger, dry scales, and contractions are what I'm left with inside me. Don't know whether to enjoy the relief or dread that this might be my new normal. I do know I hate them all for making me have to content with that thought. The last of the uncanny pain this magic causes dissipates from my nostrils and it's done. The physical transformation at least is over. Not sure if my head is done though. Still laying eggs too. Can feel the moist pile of them knocking against my ankles. Should show how many I've passed so far. Will six buckets even be enough?

I'm left physically drained by the experience, barely conjuring the strength keeping my feet under me and tail up. Isn't until I'm down to my last half-dozen eggs that I'm able to lay flat on my belly with my legs splayed and tail up enough to let those last eggs free themselves. Nothing I can be but a sad sight to all these brats so I'm not fighting it. Behind me the sound of Jonas dropping my eggs carelessly into the bucket as he grumbles about his failure. If I wasn't so tired I'd use this tail on him but I truly am spent. Think the intrusive reptilian instincts aren't advancing deeper into my mind. Somewhat regretting they hadn't though.

"A very lackluster effort polymorph spell, Mr. Jonas. Off on the time, gender, fertility and ovulation rates, along with other nit-picks I'll save for our discussion in my office later this afternoon. I expect better at this level, Mr. Jonas. Striking me as a fella that couldn't pour piss out of boot with a hole in the toe and the directions on the heel," I hear Fitts admonish the idiot gathering my eggs. A good chunk of the class laughs at him. Wish I could too. "See those eggs are collected, my stage is cleaned, and please, save my poor, overworked TA Ramona the trouble and haul that egg-laying suitcase down to the Bestiary."

"Yes, Professor. Will do," a deflated Jonas answers.

The stage moves again, this time sliding away from the class towards the back of the room. I'm finally out of the spotlight. Yet I can't shake this feeling that without the spotlight I've just become even less in their minds. Like a failed art project that ends up in the trash after serving as a demonstration of how things shouldn't go. None of it is in my power to control. But I'm the one who suffers the most, who lives with it. Assuming I get to live at all.

"Miss Cassandra, you have the flood instead of the stage. So make sure to keep those containment spells going until the spells are through. We're behind on time thanks to Mr. Jonas so whatever you pull from that cauldron be sure to give it to me quickly. I'm not one to burn daylight," the professor says as things move on like I feared. "After Miss Cassandra it will be you, Mr, Murphy, and then Mr. Aaron. We'll have to wrap up the rest next class. So the rest of y'all be ready."

And just like that they move on. Leaving me in the back with nothing else to do but watch the next in line captive struggle like I did. They turn her into a grasshopper in barely a minute. Two more captives that act with all the same panic, worry, desperation, and fear I did and the person before me. One is turned into a parrot and the other a nanny goat. What a petty waste of human life.

Class dismissed, everyone leaves but me and Jonas, who moves from collecting to mopping. Never says a word to me. Grumbles to himself and tends to his tasks. Staying awake is getting difficult. But I fear if I fall asleep I won't wake again at this point. This fear keeps me going while Jonas finishes cleaning and then disposing of my eggs. Can feel more brewing inside me but he's moving me before I can lay any to spite him.

He uses more magic to constrict my movements thinking rightly that I want to hurt him. Sadly I don't have strength to match my rage, so I was basically harmless- despite myself. Another spell levitates my form and I'm quickly whisked out of a side door, through a maze of corridors, stairwells, and doors until we reach a large room, somewhere underground, piled high with cages of all sizes and shapes. Many are filled with all manner of animals. Many I have to think went through something like me. This looming sight as well as spying a bloody kill floor as well as jars, barrels, and crates full of different animal parts. Seems I was right to worry about keeping my mind.

They measured, weighed, and cataloged me, joked about my laying more eggs as well as Jonas for his error. He leaves in shame right after. Last time I'll see him I bet. My rusty iron cage is barely big enough for me to fit, much less lay eggs. Takes just a few hours for the cage to fill with more eggs that can fit. My higher up cage means the ones that roll between the bars fell down below me where most crack. Others I hear being eaten by desperate hungry animals. I'm in pure misery at this point. Both at what's become of me and knowing I'll probably be hacked up for parts. I can't live like this...

I avoid immediate death when my plentiful egg production is harnessed by the keepers to feed even more caged animals. A reprieve but not much of one. Every day could be the one where they no longer need me around. So I sit laying in this cage, waiting, thinking about the life I lost, the loved ones I'll never see again and who will never have closure. And always asking, 'why did this happen to me?' every time I laid another gator egg.