The Trophy Wife Trap

Evelyn stood at the edge of the gala, her sleek gown shimmering under the chandelier lights. The room was alive with laughter, clinking glasses, and the low hum of conversation. She had everything she thought she needed—toned arms, a sculpted waist, long legs, and the charisma of a social media influencer. Yet, as her eyes scanned the room, they inevitably landed on Marcus. He was leaning against the bar, his tie slightly loosened, his attention focused on his phone. He hadn’t so much as glanced at her all night.

What does he want from me? she thought, her frustration boiling over. She had transformed herself into the perfect woman, or so she thought. But Marcus remained indifferent, his polite smiles and distant nods a constant reminder that she was still invisible to him.

Her fingers tightened around the Swap Gun hidden in her clutch. She had one last card to play. One final, drastic change that would make him see her. She scanned the room, her eyes landing on Sophia Laurent.

Sophia was the epitome of success—a glamorous actress, entrepreneur, and philanthropist. She stood near the center of the room, her presence commanding attention. Her gown was a masterpiece of design, hugging her curves in all the right places. Her hair was a cascade of golden waves, her makeup flawless, her smile radiant. She was everything Evelyn wasn’t—beautiful, wealthy, influential. And, most importantly, she was the kind of woman Marcus would notice.

That’s it, Evelyn thought, her resolve hardening. If I can’t win him over with what I have, I’ll take everything from her.

She made her way to the bar, her movements graceful and deliberate. She ordered a drink, her eyes never leaving Sophia. The Swap Gun felt heavy in her hand, its power humming faintly beneath her fingertips. She selected Full Life Swap from the menu, her heart pounding as she aimed the gun at Sophia.

Just as she pulled the trigger, someone bumped into her from behind. The glass in her hand slipped, spilling champagne down the front of her dress. The blue beam from the Swap Gun veered off course, striking not Sophia, but Lila Kensington—the event host Richard Kensington’s bimbo trophy wife.

Evelyn’s eyes widened in panic as she felt the familiar tingling sensation spread through her body. She stumbled, catching herself on the edge of the bar as her world began to shift. Her vision blurred, her mind racing as she tried to stop the process, but it was too late. The Swap Gun had already locked onto its target.

The changes started slowly, almost imperceptibly. Evelyn felt a strange warmth spread through her chest, her modest B-cup breasts beginning to swell. She gasped, her hands flying to her chest as the sensation intensified. Her bra grew tighter, the fabric straining against her new curves. She looked down, her eyes widening as her breasts expanded into massive E-cups, her nipples hardening against the lace of her bra. The silicone implants that had once belonged to Lila now felt foreign yet undeniably hers, heavy and prominent.

No, no, no, she thought, her heart racing. This isn’t what I wanted!

But the changes didn’t stop there. Her waist cinched in, her ribs shifting as her body reshaped itself into an exaggerated hourglass figure. Her hips widened, her ass growing rounder and fuller, the fabric of her dress stretching to accommodate her new curves. She stumbled, her legs growing longer and leaner, her calves and thighs toned and muscular. She looked down at her hands, her perfectly manicured nails now adorned with long, acrylic extensions.

Her attire began to shift as well, the sleek, elegant gown she had worn transforming into something far more revealing. The neckline plunged, showcasing her new cleavage, while the hemline rose, drawing attention to her long, shapely legs. The fabric clung to her body like a second skin, accentuating every curve. She felt exposed, ****, but also strangely… desired.

Her mind began to fog, her thoughts growing simpler, more superficial. She tried to hold onto her memories, her intelligence, her ambition, but they slipped away like sand through her fingers. She could feel her knowledge of physics, her years of research, her dreams of making a difference—all of it fading into nothingness.

In their place, new memories began to take root. She remembered meeting Richard on a business trip to China. He had been charming, wealthy, and married, but that hadn’t stopped him from pursuing her. She recalled the thrill of their secret rendezvous in his hotel room, the way he had showered her with gifts and promises. She remembered the scandal when his wife found out, the messy divorce, and finally, the lavish wedding that had made her Mrs. Kensington. Her life had become one of luxury and indulgence, but it was empty—devoid of purpose or ambition.

Please, stop! she thought, her desperation mounting. But the Swap Gun was relentless.

Across the room, Lila froze mid-conversation, her hand going to her chest as if she’d been struck by a sudden wave of clarity. Her once-ditzy demeanour shifted, her posture straightening, her eyes sharpening with intelligence. She glanced around, her brow furrowing as she tried to make sense of the sudden change. What’s happening to me? she thought, her mind racing with unfamiliar thoughts and memories.

Evelyn—still herself in name but no longer in spirit—stumbled to a nearby mirror, her heart racing as she took in her new reflection. Her face was still Asian, but it was softer, more doll-like, with plump lips and long lashes. Her body was a caricature of femininity, her curves exaggerated to the point of absurdity. She ran a hand over her new figure, her breath hitching at the sensation. What have I done? she thought, her mind struggling to process the changes.

Her thoughts were simpler now, her vocabulary shrinking as her intelligence slipped away. She tried to recall the equations she had spent years mastering, but they were gone, replaced by thoughts of designer handbags and spa appointments. She felt a pang of despair as she realized what she had lost—her identity, her purpose, her very essence.

Across the room, Lila—still Lila in name but now Evelyn in every other way—felt a surge of confidence and clarity. She glanced down at her hands, her nails now short and practical, her body lean and athletic. Her mind was sharp, filled with knowledge and ambition. She was no longer the ditzy trophy wife. She was Lila Kensington, a brilliant researcher with a growing social media following. She looked around, her eyes landing on Marcus.

Lila smiled, her confidence radiating like a **** field. “Hey, Marcus. Having fun?”

Marcus hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, it’s… nice.” He glanced at her, his eyes lingering for a moment. “Do you… wanna get out of here soon?”

She laughed, the sound light and melodic. “Yeah, this party seems pretty boring.”

Marcus smiled, a genuine smile this time. “You wanna come back to my place after this? We can… talk.”

Evelyn’s heart skipped a beat, but she kept her expression neutral. “I’d like that.”

Meanwhile, Evelyn—now Lila in every way but name—watched from across the room, her heart sinking as she realized what had happened. She had lost everything—her intelligence, her ambition, her identity. She was nothing more than a trophy wife, a decoration for her wealthy husband, Richard Kensington.

Richard, a man in his late sixties with a penchant for expensive watches and fast cars, approached her, his arm slipping around her waist. “Ready to go home, darling?” he asked, his tone possessive.

Evelyn smiled, her thoughts only fixated on pleasuring her husband tonight. Maybe I’ll give him a blowjob in the limo ride home, she thought, the idea both thrilling and unsettling. She had wanted to be noticed, to be desired. Completely oblivious to the life she once had moments ago