“I… I’m ripped! And my hair! It worked!”
I had honestly thought he was yanking my chain. I mean really — a ring that can change people’s bodies? That’s just nuts. But when my coworker told me about it, he just seemed so serious, so convinced it was real, that I had to see it myself.
And yeah, we used to date, so there’s a kinda friendship there. So what?
He invited me over to his apartment and I presumed the whole ring thing was just a gimmick to get me to Netflix and Chill. I had been in a bit of dry spell, and was down for some comfortable territory. But this? This was something else altogether.
I felt amazing! No more morning yoga classes or diet plans. I could be ripped without any work.
“Yeah, pretty neat huh? But check this out…”
Too quick for me to even say anything, my body started to shift. My muscles turned soft, my hair changed, my face morphed. Even my sports bra transformed to accommodate my growing chest.
“Check it out, you’re Lindsay Lohan. Pretty hot, huh?”
“Oh my God!”
I looked just like her. I moved just like her. Fuck, even my voice sounded just like her.
He was right, it was pretty hot. And fun. And incredible.
“Change me back. Do it now!”
Without having to say another word, I felt my body return to normal. A look of disappointment spread across his face, but I barely had time to see it. I just stormed out of his apartment.
It was all too much.
But that night, it was all I could think about.
Him changing me. Transforming me. Controlling me. Making me be anyone he wanted.
So the next day, I decided to go back to his place. I wouldn’t call. Or text. Or anything. If he wasn’t there, fine, it wasn’t meant to be.
But of course, he opened the door.
Just my luck.
“I… I want to try it again.”
He raised his eyebrows and shot me a skeptical look.
“Really. I want you to try it on me again. Change me. Anyone you want, I don’t care. I just…” I stepped into his apartment and closed the door behind me. “I want you to use the ring on me. I need it.”
“Well, OK. You know there’s this girl I always had a crush on back at college. Becky. She was such a… well… She was pretty basic. And blonde. And hot. And…”
He kept describing her, but I stopped listening. The changes were starting and I wanted to feel them. Enjoy them. My clothes were shifting, reforming into some teeniebopper crop top. My whole body was shrinking, and being altered in ways I couldn’t understand. I even started to feel makeup appear across my face. I closed my eyes and let it wash over me. Until… it stopped.
“I’m, like, totally Becky!”
And in that moment, as I bounced and giggled and put on a show — I really did think I was Becky.