Chapter 3: Chapter 3 Shoes
"Do I not see her as my mom anymore?!" Jack exclaimed aloud, his voice echoing in the empty room. He sat confused, staring at the wall as if it held the answers to his existential crisis.
His mind raced, replaying memories of his childhood, his family, and the woman he had always called "Mom." But now, something felt off. The bond he once felt with her seemed distant, almost foreign.
Was it because of the changes and the information he learned about himself and his family? Or was it something deeper, something he couldn't quite put his finger on?
He glanced down at his little brother, pulled open his pajamas, and froze.
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There it was—standing at its full length of three inches. A lump formed in his throat as he gulped, his eyes locked onto his pitiful family jewel.
It was a sight that had haunted him for years, a source of insecurity that had shaped his interactions with others, especially women.
Memories flooded back—specifically, the day he had revealed it to his girlfriend in the past. She had stifled a laugh, her face turning red as she tried to hide her amusement.
She had refused to continue blowing him, and the moment had shattered his confidence. That moment was supposed to be his reward for helping her with all her assignments and homework in school.
Not only that, he had tutored her in class, picked her up from her home, dropped her off after school, and even paid for all their expenses—snacks, lunches, dinners, and dates.
He had given her everything, and yet, she had laughed at him.
Now, years later, Jack realized she had probably just been using him all along. The thought made his stomach churn. He had been so blind, so desperate for love and validation that he had ignored the signs.
She had never truly cared for him. She had seen him as nothing more than a tool—a cash cow, a tutor, a chauffeur. He had been a fool.
"I'm such a dumb idiot!" Jack laughed bitterly, the sound hollow and empty. He leaned back on his bed, staring at the ceiling as he reflected on his past naivety.
His love for her had blinded him to her true nature. He had given her everything—his time, effort, and money—yet failed to see that she was merely using him.
It was the inexperience of youth, he thought. He had been too young, too trusting, too eager to please. But now, he was different. He had changed.
"But no more," Jack whispered angrily, his voice low and determined. He clenched his fists, feeling a surge of power coursing through him. With a mere thought, he enhanced his little brother's size.
It grew visibly, stretching to an astonishing 15 inches—thick, veiny, and undeniably intimidating. He marveled at the transformation, a wicked grin spreading across his face.
This was no ordinary cock; it was a weapon, a symbol of his newfound power. This was the same cock that made actresses and powerful CEOs lose their minds in the future, their brains turning to mush the moment they experienced its might.
It was a cock that commanded respect, admiration, and fear.
"One cock to rule them all," Jack grinned wickedly, his confidence soaring. But he wasn't done yet. He turned his attention to his face, studying his reflection in the mirror who conjured from thin air.
His skin was marred by pimples, his features plain and unremarkable. He had always hated the way he looked, but now, he had the power to change that.
With a thought, his pimples vanished, and his face began to transform. His jawline sharpened, his cheekbones became more pronounced, and his eyes took on a devilish glint.
He sculpted the most handsome visage in the world, a face that would make heads turn wherever he went. He didn't opt for the baby-faced, boyish look that some girls adored.
Instead, he chose a devilishly handsome appearance—naughty to the extreme, with a hint of danger that would make people both desire and fear him.
He of course added more to his height also. A short man would easily be lost in a crowd.
But Jack knew that changing his appearance wasn't enough. He needed to ensure that no one would question his transformation.
With another thought, he adjusted the memories of everyone who had ever known him. He bent reality to his will, rewriting history so that all records showed he had always possessed this face.
His family, his friends, his classmates—they would all remember him as the handsome, charismatic man he had become.
There would be no awkward questions, no suspicious glances. He would blend in seamlessly, his new appearance a natural part of his identity.
"Now I won't be too obvious that I don't belong in this family," Jack muttered to himself, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.
He glanced at the family photo on a nearby desk, his eyes lingering on the faces of his parents and siblings. They were also extremely good-looking people. But he was different. He was extraordinary.
"I'm more attractive than all of them combined!" he declared, his voice filled with pride.
But as he stood there, basking in his newfound power and confidence, a thought crept into his mind. What was the point of all this?
Sure, he had transformed himself into the perfect man—handsome, powerful, and irresistible. But what did he truly want? Revenge? Validation? Love?
He wasn't sure. All he knew was that he was no longer the weak, insecure boy he had once been.
He was Jack, the man who could bend reality to his will, the man who could have anything—or anyone—he desired.
"Now, all I need to do is enjoy myself and live this life to the fullest!" Jack declared, his voice dripping with confidence.
A devilish smirk curled on his lips as his gaze lingered on his mother—his new self saw her differently now. His eyes traced every detail of her figure, and a lewd glint flickered in his expression.
With a flick of his fingers, he snapped reality into motion.
"Ding!"
A ripple spread through existence, like a stone dropped into the vast ocean of the multiverse. The very fabric of reality trembled at his command, shifting and reshaping itself to align with his will.
The once-frozen multiverse lurched forward, and time resumed its natural flow.
But this time—
It wasn't him who was caught off guard.
Heat rushed to his mother's face, her cheeks darkening with a deep blush as she suddenly found herself overwhelmed by a foreign sensation.
Her breath hitched, her body tensed—something had changed, though she couldn't quite understand why.
Jack's smirk widened, watching the subtle, unconscious shifts in her posture.
She felt it.
And he knew.