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The man’s grin widens a he immediately puts you under his mysterious trance once again by swinging the pendulum.
“You have a gorgeous face.”
“I have a...gorgeous face?” You ask. You may have been modest, but you know your face was pretty. Gorgeous might be a little too generous, though.
“Yes. It’s absolutely gorgeous.”
“Absolutely...gorgeous...” you say with a bit more certainty, your face shifting ever so slightly to drastically enhance its beauty. It looks more adult, more confident, and more beautiful.
“You believe you have a gorgeous face.”
“I b-believe I have a gorgeous face,” you say, remembering all the times you admired your face and how many times people called it gorgeous. It’s the one thing you aren’t all that humble about because it’s just so...well...gorgeous!
“You have long hair.”
“Um...I have short hair,” you retort, clutching your short locks.
“You have long hair, dear.”
“But...but...” you say, confused as your hair begins to inch down your back and your memories shuffling. “I have short...well, really mid-length hair, but not...l-long...”
“Valerie, you love your long hair.”
“Oh, um...I...love my...l-long hair...” you murmur, your hair now well past your shoulders and now as low as your breasts. Now feeling assured, your hair was always long and you...loved it like that. It was always so fun to play with and you despised getting it cut. Everyone always called you “Rapunzel” because you always had some of the longest hair growing up. You let out a sigh of relief as you tug on your familiar long strands of hair.
“Hmmm...and you are 20.”
“I’m...18...” you manage to say. You’re still in high school!
“You are 20.”
“20...” you say as your body ages subtly and your dress changes. You’re not in high school...you’re in college! And you are definitely not...18.
“You are 20.”
“I am 20,” you say, accepting it and knowing it’s the truth, although you look more like 25 than 20.
“You have a gorgeous face.”
“I have a...gorgeous face?” You ask. You may have been modest, but you know your face was pretty. Gorgeous might be a little too generous, though.
“Yes. It’s absolutely gorgeous.”
“Absolutely...gorgeous...” you say with a bit more certainty, your face shifting ever so slightly to drastically enhance its beauty. It looks more adult, more confident, and more beautiful.
“You believe you have a gorgeous face.”
“I b-believe I have a gorgeous face,” you say, remembering all the times you admired your face and how many times people called it gorgeous. It’s the one thing you aren’t all that humble about because it’s just so...well...gorgeous!
“You have long hair.”
“Um...I have short hair,” you retort, clutching your short locks.
“You have long hair, dear.”
“But...but...” you say, confused as your hair begins to inch down your back and your memories shuffling. “I have short...well, really mid-length hair, but not...l-long...”
“Valerie, you love your long hair.”
“Oh, um...I...love my...l-long hair...” you murmur, your hair now well past your shoulders and now as low as your breasts. Now feeling assured, your hair was always long and you...loved it like that. It was always so fun to play with and you despised getting it cut. Everyone always called you “Rapunzel” because you always had some of the longest hair growing up. You let out a sigh of relief as you tug on your familiar long strands of hair.
“Hmmm...and you are 20.”
“I’m...18...” you manage to say. You’re still in high school!
“You are 20.”
“20...” you say as your body ages subtly and your dress changes. You’re not in high school...you’re in college! And you are definitely not...18.
“You are 20.”
“I am 20,” you say, accepting it and knowing it’s the truth, although you look more like 25 than 20.
What happens next?
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