As you enter your home, you immediately look to the shoe closet by the door your mother always forces you to put your shoes in when you enter.
You find there only your mother's high heels (which she keeps for special occasions), your own hiking boots, your brother's sneakers, and his girlfriend Emily's Birkenstock sandals. Apparently they were home- odds are, in your brother's room.
Not wanting to turn into anyone related to you, you think "what are the odds this would even work anyway, right?" as you slip on the size 6.5 brown sandals. She was relatively short, meaning her shoes were far smaller than yours, and so you had to put an effort into it, but as soon as you did, the socks started magically glowing in cosmic purple.
"What the fuck?" you exclaim in panic as the glowing socks start to fade away, turning invisible, and leaving your feet exposed. Well- "your feet" would be an interesting way to defining it, as those were obviously your brother's girlfriend's dainty feet, her short toes even ending in the black nail polish she always wore. You instinctively sent your hand to your feet in order to check this was actually happening (and not some illusion), but as soon as your hand entered your field of view you realized something was VERY wrong here.
"This can't be happe-" you stop after realizing that was Stephanie's sweet sing-song voice that just came out of your mouth.
"This is so fudging wrong", you comment as you start frantically looking for a mirror, to afraid to look down, but then stop in your place- "did I just say fudging...? fudge! sheep! ash-hole!... darn it!". You can't believe it- you even spoke like that nerdy good Christian girl! You had to find a mirror quick.
Standing in front of the first floor bathroom mirror, you could see the short, sweet, olive-skinned girl staring back at you with complete shock through green eyes.
Stephanie has been your brother's girlfriend for about a year now. They were both high-school seniors, but given her Christian background and innocent personality you could safely assume they had never had any sex yet.
You had only seen her from time to time in family dinners or when walking down the hall, but now she was standing in front of you, her curly locks of brown hair laying on her skinny shoulders, her arms dangling by her sides, ending in her dainty hands with her relatively short fingers, nails painted the same black as the one on her toes.
Her D-cup breasts made it seem like she was somewhat chubby, yet you could now tell she was very fit, raising her shirt slightly, revealing a six-pack.
You lower your gaze towards her wide hips, heart-shaped ass, and shapely hips, leading to, of course, her/your Birkenstock-clad feet.
"You have got to be sheeping me," you whisper to no one in particular, "so magic is fudging real, huh?"