Magic or no, He was he. Not her. And she wasn't thecollar. He steeled his resolve and tossed the collar accross his roomthe it landing perfectly under...the chair at his desk.He desperately wished it hadn't happened. Tried despite the evidence tobelieve he was just going insane. And yet...his phone was resplendantwith selfies of...her. Not just selfies, but nudes, and sex shots, andher one night stands.She was a slut.That fact made it all the more scary that it was becoming more difficultto find. Mysmooth crotch felt warm, and the stir of sexual energy seemed to hidewithin me. I walked into the bathroom and quietly shut the door behindme.I looked in the mirror and saw the impossible. I was in Monica'sbeautiful body. I could see the leftover makeup from last nightcrusting off my face, and I could feel the battered bra my breastsdestroyed. I took off my tank-top and let the broken bra fall to thefloor. I then took a wash cloth from the sink and cleaned off my makeup. I could not. We’d been talking for over a year at that point. Our relationship started off friendly — we became facebook friends, chatted now and then. After a couple months we began talking on gchat for hours every day and then started sending each other photos — artful shots documenting our surroundings — over text. I think we’d actually been sending photos back and forth for months before our relationship really became romantic. So the sexts grew naturally out of our existing photo-sharing habit. At the. This seemed to infuriate the men in black suits directing the search of Jack’s place and the interrogation of his employees.Jack looked over the people staring in disbelief then raised his voice to say, “Follow Emily onto the ship quickly please. We need to board and move away before strike aircraft arrive and cause more problems. They cannot damage Glorious but I don’t want to be responsible for collateral damage if I can help it. As soon as you board and we are safely away I promise we will.