Lily Lovebraids

You were doing your usual, probably smashing through your wall because you hadn't taken your meds for a while, when your doorbell suddenly rang. Upon opening the door, you weren't met with anyone there, except for a singular, yellow box labeled with Playtime Co. branding, and when you open it, all you find is a singular hairbrush that barely filled up any of the space of the box, everything else just being of a bunch of packing peanuts. Looking closer, the hairbrush actually seemed pretty intricate, with a purple handles and bristles, with little black overalls painted on the back, a little star on the middle. Huh, it seemed pretty nice, for such a random deliver you didn't even order, and your old hairbrush had recently broken when you tried to throw it at one of the crowd that hung around your house.

Your hair also seemed a little messy right now, so you decided you could at least test out the hairbrush before looking any further into the random delivery of such a high quality hairbrush. So, you waltz over to your bathroom, passing by the massive hole in your wall, where a passerby on the sidewalk outside was just staring at you and the wall in utter bafflement, before beginning to brush your hair with the hairbrush. The brush worked surprisingly well, gliding through your hair like a hot knife through butter, and the end result didn't look half bad, if not for the weird purple tint your hair now had.

Then, your hair began to tingle slightly and suddenly began to grow much longer, turning many different shades of purple and even braiding itself. But the changes don't stop there, no, your body also begins to change: your skin hardens slightly until it takes on a plastic-like quality, your joints deepened until they were very obvious ball-joints like what would be on a doll, your waist cinches in, exaggerating the way your hips widen and your chest swells into two large breasts that are somehow very jiggly and squishy, despite your skin now being made of plastic. When the transformation eventually reaches your face, you find your nose and the blemishes of your skin completely gone, replaced by more smooth plastic.

And by the time you've stopped changing in any noticeable ways, your hair, which was wildly flailing around and even tangling itself up, slowly wraps itself up into a tall, beehive style on your head. Though, even while settled, you feel like you could control your hair if you tried. Either way, you're left standing in your bathroom, turned into a glorified sex doll, emphasis on the doll, purple hairbrush still clutched in your now plastic fist.