After much debate, you eventually decide that your crush Penelope would be the best target for the Mind Control Collar. Thus decided, you call her immediately to tell her about your purchase. As you predicted, she is extremely skeptical and demands that you bring the collar to school the next day so she can disprove your superstition. You, of course, are quick to agree.
When you finally meet up with Penelope outside school the following morning, she has just one thing on her mind.
"So, Elliot," she says, "let me see this magic necklace of yours."
"It's not a necklace Penelope, it's a collar," you say, reaching into your backpack for it.
"Oh, well, in that case I retract my all my objections," she says, rolling her eyes. "I can't believe you let some old man trick you into spending sixteen dollars on that thing."
"Are you sure you're not just a little worried?" you ask. "If this works , I'll be able to control your very mind. OOOoooOOOooo!"
You say that last in a spooky vampire voice, wiggling your fingers for added effect.
"Just give me the stupid necklace," says Penelope, snatching it from your hands. "We're going to be late for class."
You hold your breath as Penelope places the collar around her neck, raising one eyebrow as she does so.
"See," she says. "Nothing even—"
It is at exactly that moment that you hear a tiny metallic 'click' as the clasp snaps into place. Suddenly, you feel an intense, unbearable pain, as if your very soul is being ripped from your body. Then in an instant it's over and you find yourself staring out across the parking lot, where students are arriving and going about their business as usual. That in itself isn't odd, but what is odd is that just a moment ago you'd been facing the other direction, toward the school.
Startled, you whip your head around to look for Penelope. As you do so, a tangle of light brown hair bounces across your vision. That's when it dawns on you. Gulping, you slowly bring your hands down to your chest, your heart sinking as they come into contact with two very large, very soft mounds that can only be Penelope's prodigious breasts. Reaching back through the tangled brown curls that surround your neck, you run your fingers along the smooth black leather of the Mind Control Collar.
It gave you control over Penelope's mind, all right—very, very direct control. Frantically scratching at the collar you scramble for the clasp—only to discover that it has somehow disappeared. The blood drains from your face as you remember the shopkeeper's warning: "Once that collar is around someone's neck, it can never be removed—the individual will be subject you your will for the rest of their natural life."
"No," you whisper to yourself in Penelope's too-high, squeaky voice. "No, no, no! I was just supposed to control her… not like this… not forever…."
As you stand there in shock, the first period bell rings and students begin jostling around you as they reluctantly make their way into the school. One of them, a football player, bumps into you as he passes. The force of the impact isn't tremendous, but it's just enough to upset your rigid pose. You let out a high-pitched squeal as you find yourself toppling forward, suddenly confronted by an unfamiliar center of gravity. As Penelope's generous assets smoosh painfully against the pavement, your vision suddenly blurs nearly beyond recognition. Afraid you may have a concussion, you lay still, waiting for your vision to clear. When it doesn't, you eventually realize why—your glasses have just come off. Once alerted to the problem, you manage to snatch the blocky frames and bring them back over your eyes, only to discover that one of the lenses now features a large crack.
Realizing that you can't simply lie down in the middle of the walkway without being trampled, you manage to push yourself to your knees and then, unsteadily, to your feet. It's difficult to stand normally with so much new weight pulling to your front, and you find yourself having to constantly roll your head and shoulders forward to keep your balance. Even moving slowly and carefully it is only with difficulty that you manage to walk up the stairs and into the school. You don't really come close to falling over again after that—you soon realize that Penelope's body isn't actually unstable, just unfamiliar—but your movements are still far from but graceful. Even without the balance issues, your masculine, high-impact gait is ill-suited to your new form. While you don't exactly have any comparative experience from this perspective, the bouncy jostling of Penelope's massive breasts under the sweatshirt seems to you excessive for a simple walk down the hall—and you don't seem to be the only one to have noticed. The oppressive stares are so disconcerting, in fact, that you have to duck into the bathroom to double-check that your new body is in fact wearing a bra. A quick peek proves that you are—a peach-colored one apparently sized 34E—but the revelation does little to put you at ease. The large bathroom mirrors only make things worse; even though you are by now well aware of exactly what has happened, it's still extremely unsettling to watch Penelope's reflection copy your movements. Hesitantly, you give a little wave as the dorky brunette in the mirror waves back.
"I'm… I'm really Penelope," you whisper, again unsettled by the pitch of your new voice.
You run a finger through your mousy hair, still transfixed by the image before you. After a moment, unable to restrain your curiosity, you hesitantly squeeze your large breasts through the sweatshirt. After a quick feel, though, you sheepishly snap your arms back to your sides and put aside indefinitely any 'exploration' beyond that—this is a public restroom, after all, and someone could stumble in at any moment. The last thing you need is for someone to see you fondling yourself in front of the mirror.
Instead, you decide to take decisive action. Exactly what decisive action, you haven't quite… decided. Yet. On the one hand, you're already late for class—if you are going to be forced to live Penelope's life forever you should probably try to avoid messing it up, which truancy would probably do. On the other hand, what if there's still a way out of this? What happened to the real Penelope and your old body, anyway? Maybe the crazy Wizard who sold you the Collar could set things right—or at least give you some answers.
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