With a yelp of surprise, Karyn found herself plopped on top of yet another bed. It was big and fluffy, with giant pillows and the comfiest sheets she felt in her life.
This was not her bed.
She looked down. The toga was gone, replaced with a flimsy nightie that absolutely struggled to contain the two mountains attached to her chest. She also had a full on mani-pedi, each and every one of her nails coated in striking red.
“Uh…”
She tentatively stood up. The walls were lined with pictures of her—the new her, with the glowy hair and perfect skin and mega-boobs, except… She never took these photos.
Some had her dressed like a cheerleader. Others, selfies with the “it crowd” at school. Further still, a few showed her snuggling against Biff… Sarah’s Biff, the giant asshole of a jock who bullied Jon mercilessly.
Karyn went cold, and lunged for the studded iPhone on Sarah’s desk. She opened it, hoping to god she remembered Jon’s number, that he’d be able to undo this—
From Tiff: Sooooo… How’d the date go???
A shiver, and she… And Sarah read over her friend’s text. She gave a pretty little grin and typed away.
From Sarah: Better. Biffy’s finally making that mouth of his useful. Kept me up all night.
From Tiff: Oh your so bad!!!!
From Sarah: I’m being honest! Took that himbo long enough…
Karyn threw the phone at the wall.
“What. Was. That!?”
Slowly, timidly, she picked the phone back up. Then, again, she tried calling Jon… And Sarah took a selfie instead. Biff was gonna love this—
And Karyn threw the phone at the wall. Again. Harder this time.
Then, she took a deep breath.
And a second, deeper breath.
Finally, a realization.
Jon wished the stone’s avatars would live out their original lives. But he never specified who got whose.
A third, quick, panicky breath.
Uh oh.
“This is not my fucking bathroom.”
The tiles, the products, even the smell of the soap—it was all just so painfully, insultingly middle class. The worst was the reflection in the mirror. Sarah’s augmented self, now soaking wet and reduced to wearing some disgusting excuse for a towel…
Seriously. This crap probably cost less than eighty dollars. How the hell was she not supposed to vomit right then and there?
“No, it’s fine. I’m Sarah McMillan. I—”
She was cut off by a knock at the door. “Sweetie? You’ve been in there for a while. All good?”
Sarah went wide-eyed and dizzy, barely able to catch herself before… Before Karyn let out a big ol’ toothy grin. “Mom. Stop. You’re being a moooom.”
Kristen Black let out a deep sigh, barely able to keep the smile from her voice. “I know, I know! Just concerned about my favorite daughter and her obsession with half-hour long showers, is all… Don’t stay too long, okay?”
“No worries!” Karyn was already slipping the towel back on. “Was about to get out, anyways.”
Sarah snapped back to reality. And she tore off the towel, again.
“Oh… Jonny, I’m going to kill—”
“I wish Sarah won’t try stealing the stone anymore.”
—A wave of uncontrollable delight washed over, every bit as intense and chaotic as before, and she squealed in equal parts rage and ecstasy.
“G… Grant…!” She bit down. Hard. But that word still tried wrestling though. Sarah slammed her palms to her lips. And the pleasure built. She went red-faced. Dampness built between her thighs.
And…
Images…? Ideas? Somethings danced through her mind.
’Sarah McMillan, as Jon knows her, is forever banned from stealing the stone…’
’Sarah McMillan, as the world knows her, is forever banned from stealing the stone…’
’Everyone named “Sarah” is banned from touching the stone…’
Sarah McMillan is now banned from touching all rocks…’
Countless interpretations of that asshole’s surprise wish. And Sarah got to pick which one.
“Granted!!!”
