Halfway through English, Rachel Stein was in front of the room reading an essay to the class, standing in a blue dress with knee-length skirt, shifting slightly from one of her matching low-heeled pumps to the other. Jennifer had read her essay the day before, and wasn't paying much attention. She had her notebook out as if she were taking notes, but she was actually making a list of the changes Kyle had made -- just in case, just for her personal use.
Her arm brushed against her enlarged chest, and she winced as she wrote All girls in school three cup sizes larger. The last one she'd noticed was Girls seem more attracted to Kyle, and then she quickly added and maybe to other guys in general?
The list finished -- probably only temporarily, she assumed with a sigh -- she put down her pen and turned her attention back to the front of the room.
Rachel looked different. Before, she'd been a little bit chubby, but now it appeared as if she'd lost her excess weight, everywhere but in her breasts. The tight curls of brown hair that had framed her face were gone, replaced by a shiny black waterfall reaching to her ass, a look that suited her new thinner self. Her skin was no longer pasty and blemished; instead, it was a flawless golden tan.
Jennifer glanced around the room. It appeared similar changes had happened to all the girls who needed it. The female half of the class was now thin and large-chested, with hair that came from a shampoo commercial and skin that came from an ad for tanning cream, or something like that.
She took a quick look down at herself, but no changes were apparent, aside from the bigger breasts she'd gotten earlier -- of course, she'd already been one of the best- looking girls in school.
She looked back up at Rachel just in time to see her clothes shimmer. In the blink of an eye, her blue dress was replaced by a pink miniskirt and halter top, doing a good job of showing off Rachel's smooth skin and improved figure, and her relatively conservative shoes became pink platform heels, making her appear a few inches taller and stretching out her shapely legs as she was forced into an extreme tip-toed stance.
Rachel continued to read her essay even as her entire body shimmered briefly, from Jennifer's point of view. Afterward, Rachel was reading her words from between lips that seemed a bit larger, painted with bright pink gloss. Her cheeks had darkened from a thick coat of rouge. Her eyelashes were long and dark, her eyes rimmed with heavy eyeliner and mascara, colorful eye shadow completing the look. The hands that held the paper she was reading from now had elongated nails, appearing to be perfectly manicured.
Jennifer saw another shimmer, and it left behind large silver hoop earrings dangling from Rachel's earlobes, several silver chains around her neck, a chain around her midsection, a few silver bracelets around each wrist, and a silver ring on almost every finger, plus both thumbs.
Rachel came to the end of her essay, and the class applauded as she walked -- no, jiggled -- back to her desk. Jennifer took the opportunity to take a quick look around -- yes, all the girls had gone through similar wardrobe, makeup, and jewelry alterations. She then inhaled deeply and looked down. She probably should have guessed that her cheerleader outfit would now have a midriff-baring top, a shorter skirt, and boots with platforms. She also, she realized, was wearing earrings that were hitting her gently on the side of her face as she moved her head, and she could see out of the corners of her eyes that her makeup was heavier, much heavier.
She reached for her purse, hoping to get a look at her face. She was a little startled to discover, under her desk, a purse that was about half the size of the one she thought she'd had. And she was even more startled when she reached in it and couldn't find the compact she'd been hoping to find. She rummaged through briefly, but saw no lipstick, no powder, no makeup at all.
Mr. Randolph was commenting on Rachel's essay, but Jennifer wasn't listening; she was idly twisting one of the rings that were now on her fingers as she contemplated the absence of makeup from her purse.
Finally, she picked up her pen, holding it gingerly because she wasn't used to her now-longer fingernails, and wrote: Girls look like porn stars -- permanently.