Wiggling out of the coffee shop, your hand casually slips into your purse, lightly grasping the flashlight. You smile wickedly, no longer troubled with the moral implications of your actions. 'After all,' you think, 'if I shouldn't be converting others, then I wouldn't have been given the power to do so.'
Janet had been a bit perplexed when you rushed her out of the dorm room after she finished brushing your long, red hair (you've kept it long since you were a little girl). Of course, she hadn't realized that the small pile of metal on the floor nearby had been the most powerful object you'd ever encountered - she hadn't seen you change Juan into Juanita, nor did she realize that reality had changed to account for Juanita's existence.
Thankfully, it had been fairly easy to reassemble, and appeared no worse for wear. On the way through campus to her car, she had tested it on a homeless man begging for change, transforming him into a blonde college-aged cutie with enormous, DD breasts. The transformation was fairly instantaneous, his ratty, second-hand clothes changing into a sky-blue sleeveless top, a denim mini-skirt and a pair of sandals. The reality-changing function appeared to be working fine too, as she appeared no worse for wear, and she wrapped her arms around the first guy who passed near her - presumably her new boyfriend. 'I just saved a life.' You thought to yourself at the time.
Satisfied with your (admittedly weak but convincing) line of logic, you pull the flashlight out, and begin searching the mall for a suitable target. Your breasts begin to tingle lightly, the excitement growing within you as the realization of the absolute power you hold begins to make you horny. You've always enjoyed having control in your relationships - after all, with a face and body like yours, men have fallen over each other your whole life just to be near you. You knew the power you wielded over them - your numerous boyfriends all willingly allowed themselves to be led around by the dick. What kind of girl wouldn't find the absolute dominance your body and attitude excreted to be intoxicating?
Thinking to your experiment, you decide to find the ugliest boy in the mall (or, at least, in the immediate vicinity). Searching around with your deep green eyes, you briefly spot the new Mediterranean girl you created at Starbucks. She had some sort of frappe in her hands and was shamelessly flirting with the cute boy in front of her. She spotted you noticing her, and winked at you with a mischievous grin on her face before turning back to the boy she was clearly interested in.
You look over the boy - not bad looking, he could definitely be cute with a little work - but decide against transforming him for now. You're here to help the ugly people in this mall right now. 'It's so tragic to think that, under normal circumstances, ugly people would never have a chance to be happy.' You continue this line of thought until you come across your first target.
He was in his mid-20's, average height, overweight, poor posture, long greasy brown hair - he walks with his head faced down to the floor, as though he's avoiding looking at anyone. His patchwork beard is obviously there to disguise the fact that he has no jawline. His T-shirt, a faded, ripped remnant of some band from his youth, sits above ill-fitting jeans which lead down to black, steel-toed boots. He was sitting near the food court, talking intently to a a pretty girl around the same age as him. She was smiling in a friendly-but-forced way at him as he spoke to her, but the smile quickly disappeared to be replaced with a look of shock and revulsion. Although they were too far to hear, you could clearly see her lips make out the word 'No' before she stood angrily and walked toward the door.
He held his hand out to try and stop her, but couldn't bring himself to chase her down, instead sitting back down, a look of shock and disappointment on his face. 'Perfect!' you think. 'An ugly boy in an ugly situation.' You palm the flashlight, turning the lens to it's brightest pink setting without turning it on yet, and saunter over to the boy with your sexiest walk. He sees you coming, but convinces himself that you must be planning on moving past him - after all, pretty girls like you typically ignore him. So when you pull the chair out and sit across from him, rubbing your foot gently across his leg and grasp one of his hands, he's too shocked to pull away.
"Hey," you say, forcing sympathy into your voice, "what's wrong?" He clearly doesn't know what to do, and frankly, you're not surprised - men have a hard time keeping their composure around you, a fact you've proudly boasted (more than once) to your friends since you first blossomed into womanhood back in middle-school. Moreover, you're a stranger, treating him with (what appears to be) more kindness than he's ever been used to receiving.
But, you're an incredibly hot stranger, and this fact isn't lost on him as he takes a deep breath before talking. "She got divorced six months ago. We've been friends for ten years now...I told her I liked her, and wanted to take her out sometime and treat her right...she just looked at me like I was sub-human, told me no and left me here." You nod and look at him sadly as he was telling his story - truthfully, while you empathize with this boy and want to end his pain, you completely agree with the girl. With so many beautiful men in the world, it would have been irresponsible for her to date this loser when she could promote beauty and create beautiful children with a better man somewhere else.
"Well, honey," you begin, squeezing his hand a big tighter as you look into his eyes - green, you note - "maybe you're just too ugly for her." He looks hurt and startled by this statement, despite the fact that there's no cruelty in the voice behind it. "But don't worry," you say, flipping the flashlight on, "I can fix that for you. You're going to love being a beautiful girl."
He pulls his hand free from yours, standing up quickly. "What the fuck are you talking about?" he says, anger in his voice.
You stand up sweetly, a genuinely friendly smile on your face. "You don't need to thank me. This is as much for my amusement as it is to improve your life." With that, you point the flashlight at the boy holding it on him for several seconds, both accelerating and accentuating his changes.
Flipping the flashlight around and turning it off (semi-unknowingly catching a small group of teenaged boys in the beam, transforming them into a trio of high-school hotties tearing a path through the mall) you observe the new girl and revel in your ability to change and alter that which you see fit. She stands at roughly the same height as before, but you quickly figure out that it's due to the five-inch stacked, black knee-length boots she's wearing. Her legs are long, smooth and perfect looking - they're completely hairless and look almost as though they never need to be shaved. Those legs lead up to a perfect, wide set of hips and a heart-shaped ass stuffed into a tight, form-fitting black mini-skirt.
Her hips taper upwards into a thin but healthy looking waist (you've always thought the super-model physique, while daring, was just too skinny to be attractive). The hem of her skin-tight red shirt rises just above her perfect belly button. Her boobs are a generous D-cup - slightly larger than yours, you note without jealousy (yours are perfect on your frame). Her shoulders are gently rounded and the sleeves of her top end just below the elbow. Her hands are small and soft, the nails perfectly manicured.
Her neck, gentle and thin, leads upwards to a beautiful face. Thick, dark red lips sit just below a cute button nose, a very light smattering of freckles running across it's bridge. Her eyes, larger than before, are a slightly more vibrant green than they had been before. Her pale skin is a beautiful contrast to her mid-back length dark brown hair - now professionally styled and healthy looking.
She looked dazed for a moment before you wrapped your arms around her in a sisterly type hug. As your pussy tingles slightly and your heartbeat races, you again note how intoxicating the power of the flashlight is. She returns your hug before gently pushing you away, a single tear running down her face. "Feel better?" You ask, not really caring one way or the other.
She smiles at your concern, picking up a purse than had materialized with her outfit. "Much," she said, wiping away the tear. "I don't even remember why I was so sad, but I want to thank you for taking the time to talk to me. Girl-to-girl is so hard sometimes when you don't have many friends. You must be the kindest person in the world to make a complete stranger feel so...welcome in your life." She puts a hand gently on your arm and goes to hug you again. You return the embrace, contemplating on the compliment she just gave you. ' Why is it that all these former men are turning out the be the best women I've ever met? If just one changee can get me this kind of reaction, I should just make myself an entirely new clique of friends.'
Outwardly, you smile at the thought of a small army of beautiful girls, all following and praising you, living testaments to the power you wield. With so much grace and femininity concentrated in such a small ground, the group of you would be able to get your claws into whichever men you wanted. 'And if for some reason they prove to be more trouble then they're worth for me and my girls...well, there's always room for one more.' Your smile turns wicked at the thought.
You break the hug and say to her, "I never got your name, hun."
She giggles a bit at the silliness of the situation - hugging a complete stranger in the mall - before saying, "I'm Krystle."
You nod, and with an exaggerated flourish, take her arm in the crook of yours, smiling at her as you do so. "Well, Krystle, how would you like to meet some friends of mine?" You ask, knowing full well that they wouldn't be friends until after a little flashlight therapy.
She smiles widely, pure joy in her eyes, as you two begin to strut down the mall, walking with the confident sway of the beautiful women you both know you are.