The moment the second dose hit her system, Elena knew this wasn’t going to be like the first.
A rush of giddy euphoria bloomed from her chest and surged upward, bubbling into her brain like champagne through a crystal flute. Her lips curled into a wide, uncontainable grin, her eyes widening with delight. The air around her felt lighter, the world brighter. Her thoughts, once so meticulously ordered and hesitant, scattered like confetti.
She giggled—actually giggled—as the changes started.
Warmth swirled around her mouth and scalp. She touched her lips as they began to pulse and tingle, swelling again, fuller and even more pillowy, like two luscious cushions meant for teasing, kissing, and commanding attention. Her mouth widened, too, curving into a smile that radiated irresistible joy with just a hint of mischief. Her hair lightened from deep brown to platinum gold, strands brightening in soft waves that cascaded down her shoulders like a starlet’s.
She moaned softly—more in delight than discomfort—as something shifted in her mind. The filter between thought and action, between desire and expression, began to dissolve. Gone were hesitation and second-guessing. In their place: raw confidence, playful sensuality, and a burning certainty that the world was hers to bend.
When it was over, Elena turned to the mirror.
She gasped, but this time, it wasn’t in shock. It was in sheer joy.
Her reflection beamed back at her, all cheekbones and smoky eyes, platinum hair framing a face that looked ready to star in a scandal or steal a crown. She looked like a woman who never heard the word no—or at least never accepted it.
She tossed her hair and gave herself a wink.
“I am delicious,” she declared.
The thought of staying home felt absurd. This new Elena wasn’t built for couches and solitude—she was made for spotlights, crowds, and chaos. She had to go out. Had to feel her power in the wild. She needed attention, adoration, and a little bit of trouble.
Throwing on a low-cut top and a curve-hugging skirt she hadn’t worn in years, she sauntered to the door.
Elena’s heels clicked with purpose as she made her way into the glowing glass storefront of Maison Élise, the city’s most indulgent boutique. The place was a temple to excess—mirrored walls, velvet displays, and hushed sales associates gliding like wraiths around their high-paying clientele.
Elena didn’t care that she wasn’t one of them. Not anymore.
Heads turned the moment she stepped inside. She felt it—eyes on her curves, her impossibly full lips, her radiant blonde hair. A pair of women in designer sunglasses looked up from a jewelry counter and audibly gasped. Elena gave them a saccharine smile and turned her attention to the man behind the counter.
He was young, stylish, and trying very hard not to stare at her cleavage.
“Hi,” she said brightly, her voice dripping with faux innocence. “I’m looking for something gorgeous. Like... ‘change-my-life’ gorgeous.”
The sales associate blinked. “O-of course. We have a new line of limited edition—”
She leaned in closer, just enough for him to lose his train of thought. Her glossy lips parted in a playful grin.
“Actually, I was wondering if you had anything a little extra in the back. Something not everyone gets to see?”
His pupils dilated. “I—I mean, I could check inventory, but that’s usually by appointment and for our premium clientele—”
Elena leaned in, her fingertip trailing lightly over his wrist. “Sweetie,” she purred, her voice a velvet whisper, “I think we both know I’m not here for the usual.” Her lips curled into a slow, knowing smile. “You and I could find something… special… if we go looking together.”
He blinked, clearly caught in the glow of her perfect skin, her impossibly pillowy lips, and the unmistakable heat behind her gaze. She didn’t have to say another word—he was already unlocking the side gate behind the counter.
Moments later, they disappeared into the backroom.
What happened there didn’t need to be spoken. But when Elena emerged, she was radiant. Her golden hair gleamed under the boutique’s chandeliers, her lipstick somehow even glossier, and in her hands was the ultimate prize: a high-end designer clutch in deep crimson, one-of-a-kind and very off-books.
Retail price: $1,800.
Cost to her: a few stolen moments of expertly applied charm—and something the clerk would never forget.
She didn’t even glance back.
The city buzzed as she stepped into the street, her hips swaying with newly unshakable confidence. The old Elena might’ve blushed at the thought. This Elena strutted like she was born for it.
Because now, she understood the power of her transformation.
And she was hungry for more.
To be continued…
