Answers Revealed, Partially

As the clock chimed and the alarms buzzed, Gwen and Beth tightly gripped each other's hand, while I held Gwen's other hand with Farah on my lap, and my mom took Beth's other hand in hers. At first it it didn't seem like anything was happening... which really, made sense. Many of the fetishes that could be coming into play here wouldn't have any sort of obvious physical manifestation.

That was, until I noticed that Gwen's grip on my hand was getting stronger and tighter. Beth's gasp and quick dropping of her sister's hand suggested that the same thing was happening to her. Then, as we all watched, my blonde sister seemed to grow at least half a foot taller, and her arm and leg muscles began to get more defined. I quickly grabbed my phone to bring out the Pedicheck app. While I checked for possible nationalities that this could be due to, Farah was hit with a flash of insight.

"Stacy, was Gwen born first?" At that, everyone realized why Gwen was seemingly impacted first.

"Yes, by about 15 minutes." That fact seemed to distress Beth a little bit. She had another 15 minutes to wait anxiously.

Meanwhile, I had narrowed my best guesses to two, "Gwen, I'm guessing that this is either Russian or Bolivian. They're both bigger than most. I'm thinking Russian though... look at your arms. You're ripped! You're a bit taller, but not by much. I'm not sure though."

"Oh, I know how we can tell! I'll be right back," Farah said as she dashed up the stairs. In a flash she was back, carrying one of the bags from Eliza's store.

"Alright Gwen, which of these rubber dongs appeals to you the most?" she asked as she placed three dildos on the coffee table. It was like a XXX version of Goldilocks. One was absolutely massive, one was surprisingly small, and the third was right in the middle.

"Well, the big one is right out. That's gotta be a joke right?" Gwen asked, before considering her remaining options, "...If I had to choose, I'd take the middle one. That looks like a good size one."

"Okay, John's right, that's probably Russian. Bolivians go for the small ones because it further accentuates their height." Then, for my benefit alone, Farah whispered in my ear, "I bought the one she picked because it's just about your size."

"Umm... Gwen..." my mom interrupted, "Your hair..."

"Oh wow!" Beth exclaimed. Gwen's hair had been just above shoulder length, but it had been steadily growing, getting shinier and looking softer as it grew. "What the fuck does that?"

All of us frantically searched our phone for an answer. It was my mom who found it first.

"You might be getting this from me, Gwen. I've got a grandfather who was Icelandic. Here, I just found a new entry on Pedicheck: 'Icelandic women are known for the long and lustrous hair, which is practically an erogenous zone for them. They are constantly brushing it, and love the feel of other people playing with their locks. Their hair is strong and durable, and grows fast. In some areas of the country Icelandic hair is even used to weave clothes and blankets, rivaling even the softest wool. When the punk music craze started in Reykjavik, a new feature of this fetish was revealed; Icelandic women get a great thrill out of outlandish hair styles and dyes, knowing that even if shaved bald their hair will quickly regrow.'"

"So I'm a muscle head, with crazy hair. That's... that's not bad at all." Gwen sighed in relief. I wasn't sure if she noticed it, but she was running her fingers through her hair, and that seemed to be calming her down. "Beth, you've got nothing to worry about. We were freaking out for nothing!"

Beth didn't look reassured, "Easy for you to say Gwen. I still have to pull a surprise or two out of our genetic grab bag."

"Actually Beth," my mom interrupted, "it's 4:15."