Maybe too far

Greg’s eyes drifted to Margaret, her stern face frozen in a scowl, and a wild urge gripped him. If he could transform Charlotte, why not Margaret too? He could melt her cold judgment into something bold, something that fit the daring picture forming in his head.

He pointed the remote at her still figure, his fingers shaking with a mix of excitement and unease. Letting his imagination take the lead, he fiddled with the dials.

First, he adjusted the “Hair” setting, picturing long, dark strands swept into a sleek, eye-catching updo. He hit the button, and a faint shimmer washed over her gray hair. It grew longer, darker, twisting into a polished bun that gleamed under the office lights, a stark shift from her usual severity.

Then he moved to the “Clothing” dial, dreaming up a look that was both powerful and alluring. A soft glow wrapped around her, and her plain black blazer and skirt vanished, replaced by a deep burgundy velvet jacket over a silky blouse that dipped low, clinging to her shape. A black skirt with a high slit emerged, showing off her legs, now framed by a subtle shimmer of imagined stockings.

Greg’s heart thundered in his chest, a wild rhythm that echoed in his ears as his fingers hesitated over the “Body” dial, his mind painting a vivid picture of a figure radiating unshakable confidence. The remote’s button clicked under his thumb, and a sudden flare of light erupted, bathing Margaret in a warm, golden glow. Her modest frame began to shift, the change unfolding like a sculptor’s careful work.

Her chest rose dramatically, the silky blouse stretching taut, the top button quivering under the pressure before it strained to the brink, a glimpse of delicate lace peeking out to suggest an elegance that hadn’t been there before. Her hips swelled into a gentle, flowing curve, the black skirt clinging to her newly rounded shape, the fabric pulling tight with a soft rustle. Her legs lengthened, each muscle subtly defined as they stretched downward, transforming her stance into one of statuesque grace that commanded the room.

He edged closer, drawn in by the transformation, his breath catching as the air around her thickened with an imagined fragrance—jasmine blooming with a heady sweetness, laced with the rich, earthy tang of leather, all weaving into the room’s polished wood aroma.

Pleased with the result, he glanced at Evelyn, still frozen mid-step, her cold stare unchanged. For now, his attention stayed on Margaret, her new look a bold reflection of his vision, shifting the room’s vibe.

His eyes drifted toward Evelyn, her frozen, icy stare cutting through the electric buzz humming in the air around them, a stark contrast to the charged atmosphere he’d stirred. The remote grew weighty in his grip, its low, steady vibration urging him onward with a quiet insistence. Charlotte, frozen mid-gesture as if caught in a fleeting thought.

A surge of eager excitement coursed through him as he leveled the remote at Evelyn, his fingers dancing across the dials with growing boldness. He turned the “Hair” setting, picturing long, glossy dark waves cascading down her shoulders, a dramatic shift from the severe chignon that had defined her. A delicate shimmer rippled over her, and her auburn locks unfurled, blossoming into rich, lush curls that caught the office lights in a brilliant sheen, framing her face with a breathtaking, wild beauty.

Then he shifted to the “Clothing” dial, his mind conjuring a vision of elegance fused with power. The light flared brightly, dissolving her navy suit in a fluid melt, giving way to a sleek black blazer that dipped daringly low, revealing a teasing hint of cleavage, paired with a matching skirt slashed high to showcase her legs. The fabric molded to her form, exuding a commanding presence laced with undeniable allure, the texture whispering against her skin.

Again Greg felt his pulse quicken as he reached for the “Body” dial, imagining a figure brimming with confident curves. The glow surged, sculpting her anew—her chest swelled, filling the blazer with a soft fullness, her hips arched into a graceful sweep, and her legs stretched longer, each step now carrying a poised, powerful stride. She rose taller, the air around her infused with a subtle hint of spice and rose, the fragrance weaving into the room’s warm, woody undertones, wrapping the space in an intoxicating spell.

Greg paused in the office’s frozen quiet, the remote’s weight steady in his hand as he took in Charlotte, Margaret, and Evelyn. Charlotte’s blonde hair and red dress hung mid-sentence, her past warmth a faded memory in her still pose. Margaret’s burgundy outfit and sleek updo stood firm, her old scowl a distant shadow. Evelyn’s dark curls and daring black ensemble held her mid-reach, her icy look stilled. A reckless desire to shape their minds, like he had with Charlotte, welled up inside him, urging him to align their thoughts with his vision.

He swung the remote toward Margaret first, his fingers grazing the “Personality” dial with a mix of hope and hesitation. Remembering Charlotte’s changes—deep affection, sharp wit, no prejudice, fierce care, and a bold romantic chase—he mirrored those tweaks. A soft glow flickered around Margaret, fading after a pulse. Then he turned to Evelyn, his heart racing as he set the same adjustments.