A modest buff.

You decide not to go too overboard. This is the fabric of reality, after all. Perhaps there was some unmentioned karma system baked into the program or worse, a social experiment, and extreme changes would cause some sort of monkey's paw effect.

Even so, you want to get something out of this. You've been mocked for years about your looks, after all. So surely a modest buff wouldn't trigger any repercussions, would it?

{ I have an hourglass figure and have had D-cup breasts since puberty, and everyone around me will remember me always having looked like this. }

You feel the heat wash over you once more, lingering slightly longer this time. The changes happen simultaneously, and a quiet hum makes its way past your lips as you feel your chest expand and your waist narrow. You feel the sensation of your bra changing in material, from the generic department store one you opted for to something lacy and textured. Your bottoms change too, with a matching feeling. You can tell without looking that they match in colour and style, and you quietly smile to yourself.

Looking in the full-length mirror that still remains in the corner of your room, you can see a noticeable difference between your old figure and your new one. The too-small t-shirt you were wearing was putting up a fight for dominance with your tits, and your tits were winning. You saw curves, actual curves, that might have made your middle and high school experience a pleasant time. At least, as pleasant as middle and high school get for young girls.

From across the room, you hear your phone buzz. It's not a notification sound you recognize, and on closer inspection, neither is your phone. It's a newer model, rather than the hand-me-down you received from your parents when they wanted an upgrade. "Something to consider for later..." you murmur. What's up with the phone?