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— What the, like, I mean, wha-a-a-a!? — Antonya blinked, staring at her reflection on the phone screen. A strange, doll-like girl with ridiculously plump lips and eyes that looked like saucers stared back at her.
Something weird tugged in her chest, like two bags of gel had been poured into it. She slowly lowered her gaze — and nearly screamed.
— Oh, fudge…
The pink, tight-fitting top stretched over a massive, fake, attention-grabbing tits. Her brain frantically tried to find an explanation.
"This is a prank. This, motherfucking, has to be a prank. Someone pumped me full of silicone and plumped my lips while I was out cold. Where the hell am I?!"
He… or rather, now, apparently, she, nervously swallowed, feeling her mouth go dry. Her thick hair cascaded down her shoulders, light, weightless, unusually silky. Her eyelashes fluttered a few times, her eyelids heavy — mascara, definitely mascara!
Her heart pounded like crazy. Thoughts raced through her head:
"I’m Anthony Brown. Son of Marques Brown. Heir to the fortune. I’m twenty-seven. I… can’t be this… this..."
The phone vibrated in her hand, and a voice came from the speaker:
“Hey, baby, what’s up? You getting bored? Send me something hot”
Anthony… or Antonya, as she was now apparently called, stared at the contact. "My sweetie."
Her hands shook. She turned on the front camera.
— Oh, oops…
She looked like a typical Insta girl: silicone, over-plumped lips, perfectly done eyes, and some ridiculously big boobs that just bulged out of her top.
And the worst part? Her voice… It wasn’t her
— O-M-G, I’m, like, sound like a total ditz…
Her fingers instinctively touched her lips, and Antonya flinched — they were soft, puffed up, as if filled with air. "Fuck, my words! I really talk like... like a stupid dumb bimbo!"
— Okey-dokey, Antonya, babe. Gotta, like, calm down. Think, ugh, like, logically…
She took a deep breath and immediately regretted it. Her huge boobs lifted and squeezed her ribs.
— Ugh, fudge you, my trouble-making boobies!
"Okay, calm down. Better stay quiet... What’s the last thing I remember?"
Memories came back in flashes. He had been sitting in the car, taking a selfie for his girlfriend, wanting to send her a photo, hoping she'd send something naughty in return…
And now, he was here. In someone else’s body. In the body of some silicone mannequin.
The phone vibrated again. The phone slipped from her trembling fingers, landing on the leather seat with a dull thud. Antonya quickly turned around — the driver’s side door swung open, and a male figure filled the space, enveloping the air with a sharp perfume scent.
— Hey, kitty, — his voice, like warm silk, slid over her skin, making her involuntarily tense up. — You getting lonely here?...