Jon came to in a room with blackout curtains and orange light pouring through the window. The tinted light revealed a room with black bed sheets, gigantic vanity, and tons of makeup strewn around in front of the mirror—though, in his current state, Jon wasn't taking notice. He was distracted by all of the unfamiliar feelings of his body until someone rushed in.
"Yannah, are you okay?! We heard a loud crash and..."
Jon got up and, startled by the short-stack girl wearing a skimpy thong and an outfit that barely passed for a halter top (who looked more than a bit like Zoe to boot), rushed past her and out the door. His head was ringing. He couldn't tell if he was concussed and couldn't make sense of the heads or tails of the situation, but it felt like his chest was heavy and bouncing around and there was some strap that was digging into his back, but it was all too much. He just needed a moment alone...
He ran into a gigantic man in the hallway, easily twice her height with shoulders wider than he was tall, and immediately turned tail—literally. Every one of his steps had more sway, sashay, and jiggle than his body had ever had. There was trouble finding anything in the house that was familiar. "Where's that bathroom?" He checked multiple doors and rooms, each with more orange light pouring through, filled with gothic decorations, in a panic to find some place to hide, as this gigantic man and this tiny woman who looks like Zoe keep following him.
Eventually, he found a bathroom and sat on the toilet. He had a second of relief and was finally able to take in the space he now occupied. This was clearly a bathroom, but there were some things missing: there was no toilet paper and, oddly enough, no shower, though there was a bidet next to the toilet. Am I not seeing things because of my head, or are they just not there? His head was still throbbing, and it was hard to even think about the stupid wish he made that he was coming to regret quickly. What did I get myself into? How could I be so irresponsible with something like the stone? It could have given him everything he ever wanted, but now he was in some strange house with strange people and a strange sun and_— Jon's train of thought suddenly screeched to a halt.
Where's the stone?! He desperately looked down only to find that his own wardrobe was completely different. Large breasts strained his view of what little clothing he had on: thin pieces of black satin covering his groin. He patted himself down. No shorts. No pockets. Not even a shirt with sleeves to keep him warm.
Now, Jon's brain was starting to work. He got up and looked in the mirror above the sink. Jon may have been in a daze before, but there was no doubt as to what he was looking down at now: the body of a very well-developed woman. And it definitely didn't feel like there was anything resembling a bulge there, by sense or by sight: just fabric perfectly cradling something he could only have imagined seeing before.
This made him yell out in an even more pained scream which sounded like some teen girl screaming at a boy band concert, only reinforcing what he now was... the girl from the program. The AI-generated model. And tears dripped from his cheek before he even realized he was full-on ugly crying, dark mascara running down his face.
A knock on the door snapped Jon out of his reverie. "Hey, are you okay? You can tell me anything... We're twins, after all." It was shortly followed by the sound of footsteps and another tap on the door.
"Hey! What's going on? You know you can tell us anything. We love you, Yannah!" This girl's voice didn't sound like the other's at all.
Yannah? It hit him—no, her—all at once. I'm.... Yannah? But that's a girl's name... Is that even a name?
"Yannah! Please let us in! We heard an accident and want to make sure you're alright. It's us, Zay and Raz! We just want to make sure you're okay! We know how boy-clumsy you can be sometimes!" Jon sheepishly moved towards the door and turned the handle, only to see two vaguely familiar girls wearing basically nothing at the threshold. He—she?—was speechless.
"...Are you okay?"
