Just Like Her Older Sister

Zack sat on the couch, the remote resting heavily in his hand. The weight of what he’d just done with Francesca lingered in the air, but his mind was already racing ahead. Michaela had just walked in, her arms full of groceries, her face scrunched up in disgust at the scene she’d walked into. She looked so different from Francesca now—her body softer, her demeanour more reserved. Zack couldn’t help but compare the two. Francesca was everything he’d ever wanted: confident, sexy, and completely devoted to him. Michaela, on the other hand, was still the same studious, reserved girl he’d known for years. But that could change. With the remote, anything was possible.

As Michaela set the extra groceries down on the counter, Zack discreetly aimed the remote at her and pressed the scan button. Her bio popped up on the screen:

Name: Michaela Cruz

Age: 22

Height: 165 cm

Weight: 70 kg

Eyes: Brown

Hair: Black (Brown highlights)

Bust: 90 cm

Waist: 70 cm

Hips: 90 cm

Ethnicity: Filipino

Religion: Catholic

Occupation: Medical Student

Personality Traits: Ambitious, studious, compassionate, reserved.

Hobbies: Studying, eating out at cafes and restaurants, working out at the gym, hiking.

Relationships: Close with her older sister, Francesca; friends with Zack; no romantic partner.

Life Goals: Become a doctor, help underserved communities, have a strong career.

Zack’s eyes lingered on the weight. 70 kg. He remembered how Michaela used to look in high school—slim, pretty, the kind of girl all the boys wanted to date. But university had been hard on her. The stress, the late-night study sessions, the endless cups of coffee and sweet treats had taken their toll. She’d let herself go, and it showed. Zack couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment. She used to be so hot. What happened?

He glanced at Francesca, who was now plating the adobo, her movements fluid and confident. She caught his eye and winked, a sly smile playing on her lips. Zack felt a surge of desire, but he quickly pushed it aside. He had work to do.

With a few clicks on the remote, Zack adjusted Michaela’s weight. He scrolled the number down, watching as the digits decreased: 68 kg, 65 kg, 60 kg. He stopped at 55 kg, the weight she’d been in high school. The remote hummed softly, and Zack watched as Michaela, who was now unpacking her bags in her bedroom, suddenly froze.

Michaela felt a strange sensation wash over her, like a wave of heat spreading through her body. She stumbled, catching herself on the edge of her bed. Her head spun, and she felt lightheaded, as if she’d just stood up too quickly. She looked down at her hands, her breath catching in her throat. Her fingers looked… thinner. Her arms, too. She ran a hand over her stomach, her heart pounding as she felt the softness there begin to shrink.

“What the hell?” she whispered, her voice trembling. She stumbled to the mirror, her eyes widening as she saw her reflection. Her face looked sharper, her cheekbones more pronounced. Her body, once soft and curvy, was now lean and toned. She looked like she had in high school—skinny, athletic, beautiful.

“This… this can’t be real,” she muttered, pinching her arm to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. But the pain was real, and so was the reflection staring back at her. She felt a surge of panic, her mind racing. Was she hallucinating? Had she accidentally taken something at the lab? She needed help.

Back in the lounge, Zack watched the remote’s screen as Michaela’s weight stabilized at 55 kg. But then he noticed something else—her bust size had automatically adjusted to 85 cm, down from 90 cm. Zack frowned. He couldn’t have that. Francesca’s D-cup was perfect, and he wanted Michaela to match. With a few more clicks, he adjusted her bust size back up to 95 cm, the same as Francesca’s.

Michaela was halfway to the lounge when she felt another wave of heat, this time concentrated in her chest. She gasped, her hands flying to her breasts as they began to swell. She could feel them growing, filling out her bra until it felt like it might burst. She looked down, her eyes widening as she saw the fabric of her shirt stretching to try to accommodate her new size.

“What the hell is happening to me?!” she screamed, her voice echoing through the flat. She stumbled into the lounge, her face pale and her eyes wild. “Zack! Something’s wrong! I—I don’t know what’s going on!”

Zack looked up from the couch, his expression calm and unbothered. “What’s wrong, Michaela?” he asked, his tone casual, as if nothing unusual was happening.

Michaela stared at him, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. She noticed the remote in his hand, the faint blue light emanating from the screen. Her eyes narrowed, suspicion creeping into her mind. “What… what is that?” she demanded, pointing at the remote. “Did you do this to me?!”

Zack hesitated, his grip tightening on the remote. “Do what?” he asked, feigning ignorance.

But Michaela wasn’t buying it. She charged toward the couch, her hands outstretched as she tried to grab the remote. “Give me that!” she yelled, her voice filled with desperation. “Whatever you’re doing, stop it!”

Zack scrambled to his feet, holding the remote out of her reach. “Michaela, calm down!” he said, his voice rising. “You don’t understand!”

But Michaela wasn’t listening. She lunged at him, her fingers brushing against the remote as they tumbled onto the couch. The remote slipped from Zack’s hand, clattering to the floor as the two of them struggled for control.