Your Perfect Personal Assistant

"Well first of all, I think we need to make you younger, KiKi," you tell her. "Let's say 25?"

And you shave off 30 years from the 55 year old woman and her eyes go wide as her hands go to her face and then her body and she stares in wonder at her youthful hands.

"Oh my goodness, Mr. Peters!" She exclaims. "How are you doing this!"

"This device of mine," you tell her. "It can reshape reality."

"But that's impossible!" She says in awe.

"I decide what's possible, KiKi," you tell her. "You're just lucky I want to use it to make your dreams come true."

Your former boss smiles adoringly at you. With her youth and worshipful expression, she's a lot nicer to look at, but far from your ideal PA. She still looks like she was designed by a soviet-era Russian architect.

You start at the top. You turn her short, sandy coif into a halo of soft, golden curls. Her cubical face becomes heart-shaped and her muddy eyes turn a vibrant green. You flip over to 'accessories' briefly and turn her square, black spectacle frames big, round and purple.

Then back to her face to give her new glasses a pert little nose to rest precariously upon, knowing she'll need to push them up frequently. You give her a dimple and a small bow of a mouth, then remember how large you made your cock and give her a broad smile for the sake of practicality.

You stretch her neck a bit with the same general motivation.

You realize changing her body in her current clothing is problematic, but so is changing her clothing to what you have in mind on her current body. But then you remember a function of the remote you had scrolled past. You find the 'get naked' button and press it, aimed at KiKi.

KiKi squeals upon finding her clothes gone and puts hands to chest and crotch instinctively.

"Now KiKi, don't be like that," you chide. "I have to see what I'm doing if I'm going to fix you up into the perfect Personal Assistant. I'll dress you up as soon as I'm done."

KiKi glances at Roxanne, confirming she is still frozen, and then, lowers her defenses and hands, blushing furiously. To make the blush even more impressive, you clear up several blotchy patches on her skin, then focus on her tits. They're substantial already, but a bit misshapen and sagging, even at their revised age. You adjust them until they're shaped like two juicy honeydew melons, crowned with nipples like blackberries.

You flatten her belly, flair out her hips, and cause pubes to vanish, leaving just a well-groomed patch above her clit, which you make more prominent and acutely responsive.

KiKi is breathing hard now, eyes wide at how her body is changing, trembling at the implications of the qualities you want I'm the perfect PA.

"Turn around, KiKi," you instruct. "Time to do your ass."

"Yes, Mr. Peters, Sir!" She stammers, unsure of whether you mean with the remote or others wise, but turning obediently regardless.

You meant the remote and give her an adorable heart-shaped ass that will have you sending her on frequent errands just for the thrill of watching her go. You then add a couple inches to her thighs as you sculpt her legs and feet and arms, finishing off with a manipedi that leaves her with purple fingernails and toenails to match her glasses frames and the plastic teardrops you dangle from her ears.

"Ok, time to get dressed for work, KiKi," you say, and with a few touches of the remote, KiKi is wearing a sleeveless green blouse with a high collar and a big heart-shaped cut-out over her cleavage. You don't give her a bra, but the blouse is cut to support her melons well enough if she doesn't jump around too much.

You give her a black pencil skirt that hugs her ass the way anyone who saw it would want to, a slit up the left leg to make sure she can still walk in it, while also displaying some thigh.

You give her frilly little white ankle socks and soaring high-heeled purple pumps. The contrast, you hope, will make people wonder about the border between working girl and working girl.

"Ok, KiKi, give me a 360," you tell her and she dutifully turns about and shows off what you've made of her.

"How do you feel?" You ask.

"Nice!" She exclaims, then hesitates. "But strange. I mean, I'm so different. Am I even the same person? I want so much to be the best Personal Assistant I can be for you, to do what you tell me to do, but at the end of the day, who am I? Have I lost myself in my devotion to you?"

"Huh," you say. "I think you may be over thinking this."

"Over thinking?" She asks the moment before the blue dot appears on her forehead and any thinking she does becomes up to you.

"You don't need to worry your pretty little head about anything but pleasing me, KiKi," you assure her. "Your only worry is whether or not you've satisfied me."

"I won't worry my pretty little head about anything but your satisfaction, Mr. Peters," she agrees is a dreamy voice before you turn off the light.

She blinks back to full consciousness and smiles without any thought behind her big green eyes, just waiting for direction from you, the center of her existence.