"Say, Juan", you say to your room-mate, "Would you mind doing me a quick favor?"
He smiles, "Sure Jennifer, Anything for you."
"OK" you say, "I need you to close your eyes and not open them no matter what until I tell
you, OK?"
He looks at you wierd, almost quizzically but he agrees.
"OK" and he closes his eyes.
With your heart beating loudly in your breast, you switch the flashlight to pink and full
power and bathe him in the beam. Before your eyes, his face goes from a wide nosed
Mexican guy with military cropped hair to a sweet latina face, not unlike Jessica Alba, with
a small button nose, a slightly curved skijump in the middle, full dark red lips, a heart
shaped face and long luxurious permed black hair. His body collapses in on itself, his
broad shoulders contracting to narrow feminine shoulders. His muscles shrink inwards,
still toned but in a femenine way and his chest goes from barrel chested to a slender hour
glass with a beautiful b-cup. His legs contort and twist into beautifully curved female legs
with wide sexy hips. His clothes also change, from a green-day t-shirt to a pink frilly shirt
and a pair of short pants. His shoes changed to a pair of pink princess chucks with little
flowers emblazoned. He's gorgeous. You stand in shock as you whisper,
"OK you can open your eyes now. Do you notice anything strange?"
Juanita giggles and says throatily, "No of course not, what are you up to Jennifer you
doofus?"
"Nothing. Heh really bizarre question, do you remember me ever being boyish?"
Juanita looks at you sideways, "whatever girl, you've always been one of the most girly girls
I've ever known, since we became roomies. You're wierd sometimes Jennifer".
With that she tosses her hair, picks up her purse and leaves, leaving you with your
thoughts.
She doesn't remember anything you think. It's like reality changed completely.
Looking around the room you confirm, Juan's bed is now covered in a very girlish pink and
flowered throw and in place of his computer desk with x-box and call of duty etc there is a
nice changing table and mirror with all the bottles of nail polish, perfumes and other
products you might expect a college age girl to have.
You start to wonder, "what are the limits of this? Nobody else remembers anything. Would
somebody remember the way I was before if I changed them and then changed them back?
What if it was me that was changed and changed back - would *I* remember?"