Francisco shut the book with a satisfied smirk. He looked over Ric’s new body one more time and removed the sleeping spell, leaving the room to let the boy discover his new body on his own.
With the sleeping charm dispelled, Ric’s subconscious became of the changes. He tossed and turned, the mattress protesting under his increased weight. Ric groggily opened his eyes and yawned. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stretched.
“Thunk”
Ric’s eyes opened wide. Unaware of his new size, Ric had underestimated his reach and hit the wall. He sat up, the springs creaking beneath him, and stared at the wall behind him. Absentmindedly, he scratched at the stubble on his jaw, but soon paused. Stubble? He touched his cheek and surely enough, he felt the prick of a sprouting beard.
Ric pulled his hand away and looked at it. His hands were large, and masculine. He could see veins raise the skin on the back of hands and the glint of hair on the knuckle of his long fingers. But maybe even more surprisingly, his skin was a pink-hued ivory tone. His eyes away from his hands, up his sinewy arms, around his muscular shoulders, down to his hair covered torso, and down his long, strong legs. All of it was covered in the same pale skin and golden hair. The only exceptions he’d seen were his nipples and his new manhood, which were both a rosy pink that seemed to blush against his ivory skin.
Ric stood up with a start, reeling from the sudden drastic increase in height. He patted his new body down, prodding at his firm muscles and petting the pelt that covered them. He looked up and noticed a mirror hanging over a dresser. As he walked over, he watched a tall, handsome, White man get closer and closer.
“Holy shit,” he muttered in a melodic baritone.
He stared at the man in the mirror. He had short, blond hair that stood up stylishly at the front, green eyes that seemed to sparkle with specks of brown, and strong, sharp features. A light five-o’-clock shadow covered his chiseled jawline.
“I’m a... I’m a White dude,” Ric said to himself, feeling his deep voice resonate in his chest, “No, I’m a White MAN,” he corrected himself and struck a muscle-man pose.
Ric turned away from the mirror and turned his attention down his navel. Following the thick trail of blond hairs down from his bellybutton he stared at the meat that hung between his toned legs. Ric gave his hips a little thrust and giggled when he saw how his pink friend swung to and fro.
He looked over his massive shoulders at the stranger in the mirror, because that really was who he was now. He could see a faint resemblance to his original self in his face, but it was so weak that he really was an entirely new person.
Ric rubbed his hands over his mature torso again, feeling an electric tingle in his loins. But he couldn’t help to wonder, how had this happened? And then he remembered, Mr. Mendez’s weird book...