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This story tells you about a couple, a teenager named Liam and his redheaded girlfriend named Chloe who can't stop regenerating herself after sex.
ftf incest magic milf roleplay transformation age progression age regression mind change breast expansion gilf race change unaware transformation weight gain
by
ninhjimmy007
· 14 Jun 2025
Liam and Chloe is a couple and been dating each other for a long time. They enjoy their life, adventure, and even have sex. Suddenly, after they're climax, Chloe's body starts to glow and transforms into a different woman.
ftf
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by
ninhjimmy007
· 14 Jun 2025
After Chloe transforms into Beatrice, he finds it kinky with her transformation or regeneration when she changes into someone else. Plus, it's hard to imagine that Beatrice was his girlfriend. Then again, it's way better than Doctor Who.
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A strange erotic story about a teenage boy named Nick and his lovely big-tittied girlfriend named Gena who asked to be his mom for the role.
This story was inspired by CelineTF from DeviantArt
Being My Mom
The room was bathed in soft golden light as I pressed my lips against Gena’s, our bodies pressed together on the bed, breath mingling in the warm space between us. She tasted sweet, like the candy-flavored lip gloss she always wore, and her full, pillowy lips moved against mine with practiced ease. My hands slid down her sides, feeling every curve of her tight little body before settling on her thick thighs, squeezing gently. She let out a soft moan against my mouth, her nails digging lightly into my shoulders.
“Nick…” she whispered, her voice already breathy with want. Her enormous E-cup tits pressed against my chest, the softness making my cock twitch in my jeans.
I broke the kiss just long enough to smirk. “You’re so fucking hot, Gena.”
She giggled, her blue eyes sparkling. “You say that like you don’t tell me every day.”
“‘Cause it’s true every day,” I shot back, slipping a hand under her crop-top to palm her tits. She sighed, arching into my touch, her pink nipples already stiff beneath the fabric of her bra.
We didn’t waste time—clothes were yanked off, tossed carelessly onto the floor, until she was naked beneath me, all smooth, tanned skin and plush curves. Her tits spilled into my hands as I lowered my mouth to one perfect nipple, sucking while my fingers teased the other. She gasped, thighs tightening around my waist, already grinding down against the bulge in my boxers.
“Fuck, Nick…”
I didn’t make her wait. My boxers came off, her hand wrapping around my cock, stroking once, twice, before she guided me to her soaked pussy. The first thrust made us both groan, her tight wet heat clamping around me as I bottomed out inside her.
“You feel so good,” I muttered into her neck, hips already moving slow and deep.
She whimpered, her nails scratching down my back. “Harder, baby, please—”
I obliged, pistoning into her, the sound of skin slapping filling the room. Her tits bounced with every movement, her moans going higher and more desperate as she clawed at me, pulling me deeper. I could feel her clenching around me, her thighs trembling as she got close.
“Cum for me,” I growled, tilting my hips just right to hit that spot inside her that made her scream.
Gena shattered beneath me, back arching as she came hard, her pussy squeezing my cock tight. The sight of her—flushed, gasping, tits heaving—was enough to push me over the edge. I buried myself deep as I came, groaning as warmth spilled inside her.
For a few blissful moments, we just breathed together, still joined, her fingers lazily tracing circles on my back. Then, reluctantly, I pulled out and collapsed beside her, pulling her close. She snuggled into me, her head resting on my chest, her leg draped over mine.
I stroked her blonde hair absentmindedly, enjoying the warmth of her body. But my mind was already drifting to something else—the turning of the calendar, the anticipation in my gut.
“Gena,” I murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Next month is March.”
She hummed. “Mhm. Got something special planned?”
I hesitated, heart pounding. “You ever heard the term… ‘March Needs Mom’?”
She pulled back just enough to look up at me, eyebrows raised. A slow, knowing smile curled her lips, and she bit her lower lip. “I might’ve heard of it.”
I swallowed. “Would you… would you be okay with it? If—if, by the end of March, you became mine?”
Her smile turned radiant. “You mean your mom?”
“Yeah.”
She giggled, pressing a soft kiss to my throat. “I’d love that, Nick. I’ve always loved the idea of being a mom.”
A thrill shot through me. She wanted this.
And so it began.
At first, the changes were subtle. A slight rounding of her hips. A new softness to her cheeks. Then, her tits—already massive—swelled even fuller, heavier, until she had to start wearing bras just to keep them supported. I watched in fascination as each morning, Gena seemed older, more mature, her face gaining gentle laugh lines, her body filling out into a perfect, thick MILF shape.
By the second week, her waist nipped in sharply, her ass rounder, thighs thicker, until she had that perfect, fuckable hourglass figure. She wasn’t just hot anymore—she was mom hot.
And she had no idea it was happening.
“Is it just me, or have my boobs gotten bigger?” she mused one morning, adjusting her sweater awkwardly over her now-massive M-cups.
I smirked, stepping closer to palm them possessively. “Might’ve. Not complaining.”
She swatted my hand away with a playful scowl. “Nick! Don’t be weird.”
But she was blushing. And she didn’t stop me when I did it again.
Her personality shifted too—gentler, sweeter, more nurturing. She started fussing over me, making sure I ate right, fixing my clothes. By the third week, she was calling me ‘honey’ and ‘sweetie’ in a voice that was unmistakably maternal.
And then, one morning, she walked into the kitchen, and my jaw dropped.
Gena was gone.
In her place stood Geraldine—my perfect, thick, buxom MILF mom. Her blonde hair was longer now, streaked with hints of silver, tied back in a loose bun. Her face was mature, beautiful, with just the right amount of wrinkles to make her look experienced. And her body—fuck—those tits were enormous, straining against her sweater, her hips wide, her ass a perfect handful. The way she moved was different too, slower, graceful, with a sway that screamed motherly confidence.
She looked up from the stove where she was cooking pancakes and smiled at me—a warm, loving smile that made my heart race.
“Morning, sweetheart,” she said, her voice richer, deeper. “Hungry?”
I could barely speak. “Yeah. Yeah, Mom.”
Her smile widened like that was the most natural thing in the world.
And when she bent over to grab the syrup from the cabinet, giving me a perfect view of her thick ass in those tight mom jeans, I knew—I was never calling her Gena again.
---
At the moment, I couldn’t take my eyes off her—Geraldine—my mom. The way her hips swayed as she moved around the kitchen, the way her huge tits bounced slightly with each step, the warm smell of pancakes and vanilla perfume filling the air. She hummed a soft tune under her breath, completely at ease, completely natural, like she’d always been my mother.
My cock throbbed in my boxers.
“Sweetheart, stop standing there and sit down,” she chided gently, pouring a glass of orange juice for me. Her fingers—older now, softer—brushed against mine as she handed it to me, and I swear I felt a jolt of electricity.
I obeyed, sliding into my seat, my eyes locked onto hers. She smiled down at me, her expression full of affection as she flipped the pancakes.
She doesn’t even know she was ever Gena.
The thought made my pulse race even faster.
She turned slightly, and my breath hitched. The morning sunlight caught the curves of her body perfectly—her waist dipped in before flaring out into those wide, motherly hips, her ass round and plump beneath her tight jeans. I could see the faint outline of her bra through her sweater, the straps digging into the soft flesh of her shoulders as they struggled to contain her heavy M-cup tits.
“Eat up, baby,” she said, sliding a plate of pancakes in front of me before leaning down—oh God—her tits pressing together as she reached past me for the syrup. Her cleavage was right there, inches from my face, warm and fragrant.
I wanted to bury my face in them.
Instead, I cleared my throat, shifting in my seat to hide my growing erection. “Thanks, Mom.”
She sat across from me, smiling as she watched me eat. “You’re such a good boy.”
Fuck.
I nearly choked on my food.
The way she said it—soft, approving, maternal—sent a rush of heat straight to my dick.
---
After breakfast, she insisted on doing the laundry. I followed her like a lovesick puppy, watching as she bent over the washing machine, her jeans pulling taut over her perfect ass. My fingers itched to grab her, to pull her against me and grind my cock into that thick behind until she moaned.
But I couldn’t. Not yet.
Not until she really understood her place.
Later that afternoon, we sat on the couch together, watching some stupid daytime talk show. She had her legs tucked under herself, her posture relaxed, her sweater stretching over those massive tits. I pretended to be engrossed in the TV, but my mind was elsewhere.
Then, she let out a content sigh and leaned her head on my shoulder.
“You know, Nicky,” she murmured, her fingers idly playing with the hem of her shirt. “I’m really happy we’re so close.”
My heart pounded. “Yeah?”
“Mhm.” She lifted her head just enough to look at me, her blue eyes warm. “A mother and son should always have a strong bond.”
Her hand found mine, squeezing gently.
Oh my God. She has no idea.
I swallowed, hesitating for only a second before tightening my grip on her fingers. “Yeah… we should be close.”
She smiled, pleased.
Then—fuck it—I took the plunge.
I leaned in and kissed her.
For a second, she froze. Then, to my shock, her lips moved against mine, soft and warm, before she pulled back with a bewildered little laugh.
“Oh, Nicky,” she said, her cheeks pink. “You—you can’t kiss me like that.”
I searched her face. “Why not?”
She bit her lip, her eyes flickering with something I couldn’t quite read. “It’s just… not what a son does.”
“But what if I want to?” I murmured, inching closer until our noses brushed.
Her breath hitched, her chest rising and falling quickly. “Nicky…”
I didn’t wait for her to finish.
This time, when I kissed her, she melted.
Her lips parted under mine with a soft moan, her fingers tangling in my hair as she kissed me back—harder, needier. One of her hands slid down my chest, fingers skimming over my stomach before hesitating at the waistband of my sweatpants.
“Is this… is this okay?” she whispered between kisses, her voice trembling.
I groaned, gripping her hips and pulling her into my lap. “More than okay, Mom.”
Her face flushed even deeper, but she didn’t protest as I tugged her sweater off, revealing the lacy pink bra barely containing her huge, milky tits.
“Oh God,” I breathed before burying my face in them, sucking her nipples through the fabric.
She gasped, arching into me, her thighs clenching around my hips. “Oh! Oh, baby… oh my baby…”
Her words sent a thrill through me.
She was mine now, in every way.
And as I laid her back on the couch, yanking her jeans down her thick thighs, she didn’t stop me.
Instead, she spread her legs for her son.
---
Geraldine gasped as I pulled her jeans and panties down in one smooth motion, her thick thighs trembling as they spread open for me. Her curvy body was flushed pink with arousal, her huge M-cup tits heaving with each breath as I loomed over her on the couch.
"Nick—oh god—we shouldn't... I'm your—"
"Say it, Mom," I growled, palming one of her massive breasts while my other hand trailed fingers along her soaking wet pussy lips. "Tell me who you belong to."
She moaned, her back arching as my fingers dipped inside her dripping entrance. "I-I'm your mother, baby... ohhh, yes right there!"
Her plush pussy clenched around my fingers shamelessly, her motherly instincts warring with her sudden lust for her own son. I could see the struggle in her half-lidded eyes even as she ground her hips against my hand, her thick thighs squeezing around my wrist. The way her big, milky tits jiggled with every movement sent blood rushing straight to my cock.
"Fuck, Mom, look at you," I groaned, pulling my spit-slick fingers from her pussy only to lick them clean right in front of her. She watched with wide eyes as I sucked her juices off my fingers, her plump lips parting with a needy whimper.
"You taste so sweet... kinda like that peach cobbler you made last week."
Geraldine's entire body shuddered at that, her maternal pride mingling with filthy arousal. "Nicky, you can't say things like—ahhh!" Her protest turned into a moan as I suddenly stuffed two fingers back inside her, curling them against that spongy spot that made her eyes roll back.
"Why not?" I smirked, scissoring my fingers inside her tight, wet channel. "Am I not your good boy?"
Her slick coated my hand as I finger-fucked her faster, her pussy making lewd squelching sounds that echoed in the quiet living room. Her large breasts bounced with each thrust of my fingers, her pink nipples rock hard beneath her lacy bra.
"Y-you are!" she gasped, her manicured nails digging into the couch cushions. "Y-you're my perfect boy, my good sweet son, oh god Nicky don't stop—!"
I didn't.
Instead, I ripped her bra off with my free hand, finally freeing those massive udders that had tormented me all morning. Her soft, pale flesh spilled into my hands, the sheer weight of them making my mouth water. I latched onto one stiff nipple, sucking hard while my fingers worked her pussy relentlessly.
Geraldine came with a strangled scream, her thick thighs clamping around my hand as her pussy gushed around my fingers. Her tits jiggled wildly from the force of her orgasm, milky skin flushed deep pink. I drank in every second—the way her motherly eyes glazed over with pleasure, how her manicured hands clutched at me desperately, those full lips trembling as she moaned my name.
When she finally came down from her high, panting and sweaty, I wasted no time yanking my sweatpants down and freeing my aching cock. Her heavy-lidded eyes locked onto my thick length, her pink lips parting in awe.
"My sweet boy is... so big," she breathed, one trembling hand reaching out to stroke me.
"Yours, Mom," I groaned, thrusting into her soft grip. "All yours. Want to be inside you."
Her maternal instincts should have protested. She should've stopped me right then.Instead, she spread her thick thighs even wider.
I lined up my cock with her drooling entrance, watching with rapt attention as the swollen head pressed against her slick folds. Geraldine bit her plush lower lip, her huge tits rising and falling rapidly as she nodded her consent.
Slowly—too slowly for either of our liking—I pushed inside.
Her gasp turned into a broken moan as inch after inch disappeared between her puffy outer lips. She was soaking wet, her tight walls squeezing me perfectly as I bottomed out in her velvety heat.
"Oh fuck," I groaned, gripping her wide hips. "Mom... you're so tight..."
Her glossy lips curved into a shaky smile, one hand coming up to cup my cheek. "That's because I only ever had you, sweetheart... my perfect baby boy."
The way her pussy fluttered around me at those words told me she wasn't referring to childbirth.
I started moving.
-----
Geraldine's breath hitched as I pulled out slowly, her pussy clinging to me like it didn’t want to let go. But when I thrust back in—hard—she let out a high-pitched moan, her huge tits bouncing with the force of it.
"Nnngh—oh god, Nicky!"
Her thighs trembled around my hips as I settled into a deep, relentless rhythm, each thrust punctuated by the wet slap of skin on skin. Her manicured nails dug into my shoulders, her face a mix of maternal adoration and carnal hunger.
"I-Is this okay, baby?" she gasped, even as she rolled her hips to meet each of my thrusts. "W-We shouldn't—ohhh!—but it feels so good..."
"Of course it's okay, Mom," I grunted, palming one of her massive tits, squeezing it roughly. "You were made for this. Made for me."
She whined, her slick walls tightening around my cock at the possessiveness in my voice. I could see the war in her eyes—the part of her that knew this was wrong battling the part that wanted to surrender completely to her son.
And as I leaned down to capture her nipple between my teeth, sucking hard while my fingers pinched the other, she didn't just surrender—she broke.
"Yours!" she screamed, her back arching as her pussy convulsed around me. "Yours yours yours, my boy, m-my good boy!"
Her orgasm hit her like a freight train, her whole body shaking, her thick thighs clamping around me, desperate to keep me buried inside her. I didn’t let up—couldn't let up—pounding into her through her climax, chasing my own.
Her eyes flew open, glazed over with pleasure, her plush lips swollen from biting them. "Cum inside me," she begged, her voice wrecked. "Please, baby, give it to Mommy—fill me!"
That was all I needed.
With a final brutal thrust, I buried myself as deep as I could and came, my orgasm ripping through me like a fucking explosion. Geraldine moaned, her arms circling around my neck as she held me close, whispering praise into my ear.
"That's my good boy... oh, you're so perfect... Mommy loves you so much..."
I shuddered at her words, my cock still twitching inside her as I emptied every last drop into her greedy womb.
When I finally pulled out, her pussy was a mess—my cum leaking out of her, glistening on her plump lower lips. She didn't even try to wipe it away.
Instead, she lay there, breathless and flushed, her huge tits rising as she panted. Then, with a soft giggle, she pulled me against her bosom, cradling my head like she used to when I was little.
"Mmm... my sweet baby," she murmured, stroking my hair.
I smirked, glancing up at her between the valley of her cleavage. "Love you too, Mom."
She blushed, but her smile didn't falter.
Later that night, I caught her standing in front of the mirror wearing one of Gena's old dresses—a little pink sundress that barely contained her new, thicker body.
I froze in the doorway.
She turned, her cheeks flushing as she fidgeted with the hem. "D-Does it look okay...?"
I swallowed hard.
She looked adorable. The way the dress strained against her huge tits, how it hugged every new curve of her thick, motherly body—like some perfect mix of my sweet girlfriend and my even sweeter mom.
But there was something else.
Something nostalgic in the way she played with the fabric.
Like a part of Gena was still in there somewhere.
I crossed the room in three long strides, pulling her into a deep, slow kiss.
"Perfect," I murmured against her lips. "Just like always."
She melted into me, her hands finding mine.
And for the first time, I wondered—
Maybe I could have both.
---
The end of March arrived like stealing sunlight—warm, golden, and over too soon.
I woke up with Geraldine’s thick thighs wrapped around me, her plush body pressed flush against my back, her slow breaths tickling my neck. I could feel the weight of her pillowy tits pressed between my shoulder blades, her warm pussy still sticky against my skin from last night.
A bittersweet ache settled in my chest.
Tonight, my mom would be Gena again.
I turned in her arms, drinking in every detail—the laugh lines around her soft blue eyes, the silver streaks in her messy blonde hair, the way her plump lips curved in sleep. Her motherly scent—vanilla and lavender—filled my lungs.
She stirred, blinking awake before smiling sleepily. “Mmm… morning, sweetheart.”
I didn’t answer.
Instead, I crushed my lips to hers.
Geraldine made a startled sound, but she melted into the kiss almost immediately, her hands sliding down my chest eagerly. I didn’t hold back—I kissed her like it was our last day together, sucking on her tongue, biting her plump lower lip, my hands roaming every inch of her lush curves.
She broke away with a gasp. “Nicky—what’s gotten into you?”
I buried my face in her tits, inhaling deeply before murmuring against her soft skin, “Just don’t wanna forget.”
She understood.
Her fingers slid through my hair, guiding me up so she could kiss me again, slower this time. Sweeter.
“You won’t,” she whispered. “I promise.”
---
We spent the day together like any mother and son—breakfast, laundry, bad daytime TV—except our version included me bending Geraldine over the kitchen counter, fucking her brains out while she sobbed my name.
And after dinner?
We really said our goodbyes.
The bed creaked under us as I mounted her from behind, her thick ass pressed against my hips as I buried myself to the hilt. Geraldine arched her back, her huge tits swaying beneath her as she braced herself on trembling arms.
“T-Tell me again,” she panted, pushing back against me desperately. “Tell me who Mommy belongs to.”
“Me,” I growled, gripping her wide hips tight enough to bruise. “Only me.”
She wailed as I pistoned into her, our bodies slapping together obscenely. I knew she was close—she always was when I talked like that—and I wasn’t far behind.
My hands slid around to grope her massive tits, squeezing them roughly as I fucked into her harder, deeper.
“Gonna fill you up, Mom,” I grunted. “One last time.”
She came with a shattered scream, her pussy milking my cock as I spilled inside her one final time.
We collapsed together, breathless and sweating, her body curled around mine.
And then she said the words I didn’t know I needed to hear—
“I’ll remember everything… and I’ll miss you, Nicky.”
---
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the windows.
I rolled over, expecting warmth—expecting her.
Instead, I found Gena.
Her real face—young, bright, familiar—staring at me with soft wonder.
No silver in her hair. No laugh lines.
All Gena.
I froze.
But then—
She smiled. A slow, knowing, beautiful smile.
“So…” she murmured, stretching her arms above her head with a playful yawn. “Turns out being your mom was really fun.”
My pulse exploded.
She remembered.
Gena giggled at my expression before leaning in, pressing her lips to my ear—
“Maybe we should do it again, probably on the next March? Or should we do it on Mother's day? Or how about being your Grandma, if you want to?”
I grabbed her, flipping her onto her back as she shrieked with laughter.
Yeah.
We definitely would.
(The End.)
This story was inspired by CelineTF from DeviantArt
Being My Mom
The room was bathed in soft golden light as I pressed my lips against Gena’s, our bodies pressed together on the bed, breath mingling in the warm space between us. She tasted sweet, like the candy-flavored lip gloss she always wore, and her full, pillowy lips moved against mine with practiced ease. My hands slid down her sides, feeling every curve of her tight little body before settling on her thick thighs, squeezing gently. She let out a soft moan against my mouth, her nails digging lightly into my shoulders.
“Nick…” she whispered, her voice already breathy with want. Her enormous E-cup tits pressed against my chest, the softness making my cock twitch in my jeans.
I broke the kiss just long enough to smirk. “You’re so fucking hot, Gena.”
She giggled, her blue eyes sparkling. “You say that like you don’t tell me every day.”
“‘Cause it’s true every day,” I shot back, slipping a hand under her crop-top to palm her tits. She sighed, arching into my touch, her pink nipples already stiff beneath the fabric of her bra.
We didn’t waste time—clothes were yanked off, tossed carelessly onto the floor, until she was naked beneath me, all smooth, tanned skin and plush curves. Her tits spilled into my hands as I lowered my mouth to one perfect nipple, sucking while my fingers teased the other. She gasped, thighs tightening around my waist, already grinding down against the bulge in my boxers.
“Fuck, Nick…”
I didn’t make her wait. My boxers came off, her hand wrapping around my cock, stroking once, twice, before she guided me to her soaked pussy. The first thrust made us both groan, her tight wet heat clamping around me as I bottomed out inside her.
“You feel so good,” I muttered into her neck, hips already moving slow and deep.
She whimpered, her nails scratching down my back. “Harder, baby, please—”
I obliged, pistoning into her, the sound of skin slapping filling the room. Her tits bounced with every movement, her moans going higher and more desperate as she clawed at me, pulling me deeper. I could feel her clenching around me, her thighs trembling as she got close.
“Cum for me,” I growled, tilting my hips just right to hit that spot inside her that made her scream.
Gena shattered beneath me, back arching as she came hard, her pussy squeezing my cock tight. The sight of her—flushed, gasping, tits heaving—was enough to push me over the edge. I buried myself deep as I came, groaning as warmth spilled inside her.
For a few blissful moments, we just breathed together, still joined, her fingers lazily tracing circles on my back. Then, reluctantly, I pulled out and collapsed beside her, pulling her close. She snuggled into me, her head resting on my chest, her leg draped over mine.
I stroked her blonde hair absentmindedly, enjoying the warmth of her body. But my mind was already drifting to something else—the turning of the calendar, the anticipation in my gut.
“Gena,” I murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Next month is March.”
She hummed. “Mhm. Got something special planned?”
I hesitated, heart pounding. “You ever heard the term… ‘March Needs Mom’?”
She pulled back just enough to look up at me, eyebrows raised. A slow, knowing smile curled her lips, and she bit her lower lip. “I might’ve heard of it.”
I swallowed. “Would you… would you be okay with it? If—if, by the end of March, you became mine?”
Her smile turned radiant. “You mean your mom?”
“Yeah.”
She giggled, pressing a soft kiss to my throat. “I’d love that, Nick. I’ve always loved the idea of being a mom.”
A thrill shot through me. She wanted this.
And so it began.
At first, the changes were subtle. A slight rounding of her hips. A new softness to her cheeks. Then, her tits—already massive—swelled even fuller, heavier, until she had to start wearing bras just to keep them supported. I watched in fascination as each morning, Gena seemed older, more mature, her face gaining gentle laugh lines, her body filling out into a perfect, thick MILF shape.
By the second week, her waist nipped in sharply, her ass rounder, thighs thicker, until she had that perfect, fuckable hourglass figure. She wasn’t just hot anymore—she was mom hot.
And she had no idea it was happening.
“Is it just me, or have my boobs gotten bigger?” she mused one morning, adjusting her sweater awkwardly over her now-massive M-cups.
I smirked, stepping closer to palm them possessively. “Might’ve. Not complaining.”
She swatted my hand away with a playful scowl. “Nick! Don’t be weird.”
But she was blushing. And she didn’t stop me when I did it again.
Her personality shifted too—gentler, sweeter, more nurturing. She started fussing over me, making sure I ate right, fixing my clothes. By the third week, she was calling me ‘honey’ and ‘sweetie’ in a voice that was unmistakably maternal.
And then, one morning, she walked into the kitchen, and my jaw dropped.
Gena was gone.
In her place stood Geraldine—my perfect, thick, buxom MILF mom. Her blonde hair was longer now, streaked with hints of silver, tied back in a loose bun. Her face was mature, beautiful, with just the right amount of wrinkles to make her look experienced. And her body—fuck—those tits were enormous, straining against her sweater, her hips wide, her ass a perfect handful. The way she moved was different too, slower, graceful, with a sway that screamed motherly confidence.
She looked up from the stove where she was cooking pancakes and smiled at me—a warm, loving smile that made my heart race.
“Morning, sweetheart,” she said, her voice richer, deeper. “Hungry?”
I could barely speak. “Yeah. Yeah, Mom.”
Her smile widened like that was the most natural thing in the world.
And when she bent over to grab the syrup from the cabinet, giving me a perfect view of her thick ass in those tight mom jeans, I knew—I was never calling her Gena again.
---
At the moment, I couldn’t take my eyes off her—Geraldine—my mom. The way her hips swayed as she moved around the kitchen, the way her huge tits bounced slightly with each step, the warm smell of pancakes and vanilla perfume filling the air. She hummed a soft tune under her breath, completely at ease, completely natural, like she’d always been my mother.
My cock throbbed in my boxers.
“Sweetheart, stop standing there and sit down,” she chided gently, pouring a glass of orange juice for me. Her fingers—older now, softer—brushed against mine as she handed it to me, and I swear I felt a jolt of electricity.
I obeyed, sliding into my seat, my eyes locked onto hers. She smiled down at me, her expression full of affection as she flipped the pancakes.
She doesn’t even know she was ever Gena.
The thought made my pulse race even faster.
She turned slightly, and my breath hitched. The morning sunlight caught the curves of her body perfectly—her waist dipped in before flaring out into those wide, motherly hips, her ass round and plump beneath her tight jeans. I could see the faint outline of her bra through her sweater, the straps digging into the soft flesh of her shoulders as they struggled to contain her heavy M-cup tits.
“Eat up, baby,” she said, sliding a plate of pancakes in front of me before leaning down—oh God—her tits pressing together as she reached past me for the syrup. Her cleavage was right there, inches from my face, warm and fragrant.
I wanted to bury my face in them.
Instead, I cleared my throat, shifting in my seat to hide my growing erection. “Thanks, Mom.”
She sat across from me, smiling as she watched me eat. “You’re such a good boy.”
Fuck.
I nearly choked on my food.
The way she said it—soft, approving, maternal—sent a rush of heat straight to my dick.
---
After breakfast, she insisted on doing the laundry. I followed her like a lovesick puppy, watching as she bent over the washing machine, her jeans pulling taut over her perfect ass. My fingers itched to grab her, to pull her against me and grind my cock into that thick behind until she moaned.
But I couldn’t. Not yet.
Not until she really understood her place.
Later that afternoon, we sat on the couch together, watching some stupid daytime talk show. She had her legs tucked under herself, her posture relaxed, her sweater stretching over those massive tits. I pretended to be engrossed in the TV, but my mind was elsewhere.
Then, she let out a content sigh and leaned her head on my shoulder.
“You know, Nicky,” she murmured, her fingers idly playing with the hem of her shirt. “I’m really happy we’re so close.”
My heart pounded. “Yeah?”
“Mhm.” She lifted her head just enough to look at me, her blue eyes warm. “A mother and son should always have a strong bond.”
Her hand found mine, squeezing gently.
Oh my God. She has no idea.
I swallowed, hesitating for only a second before tightening my grip on her fingers. “Yeah… we should be close.”
She smiled, pleased.
Then—fuck it—I took the plunge.
I leaned in and kissed her.
For a second, she froze. Then, to my shock, her lips moved against mine, soft and warm, before she pulled back with a bewildered little laugh.
“Oh, Nicky,” she said, her cheeks pink. “You—you can’t kiss me like that.”
I searched her face. “Why not?”
She bit her lip, her eyes flickering with something I couldn’t quite read. “It’s just… not what a son does.”
“But what if I want to?” I murmured, inching closer until our noses brushed.
Her breath hitched, her chest rising and falling quickly. “Nicky…”
I didn’t wait for her to finish.
This time, when I kissed her, she melted.
Her lips parted under mine with a soft moan, her fingers tangling in my hair as she kissed me back—harder, needier. One of her hands slid down my chest, fingers skimming over my stomach before hesitating at the waistband of my sweatpants.
“Is this… is this okay?” she whispered between kisses, her voice trembling.
I groaned, gripping her hips and pulling her into my lap. “More than okay, Mom.”
Her face flushed even deeper, but she didn’t protest as I tugged her sweater off, revealing the lacy pink bra barely containing her huge, milky tits.
“Oh God,” I breathed before burying my face in them, sucking her nipples through the fabric.
She gasped, arching into me, her thighs clenching around my hips. “Oh! Oh, baby… oh my baby…”
Her words sent a thrill through me.
She was mine now, in every way.
And as I laid her back on the couch, yanking her jeans down her thick thighs, she didn’t stop me.
Instead, she spread her legs for her son.
---
Geraldine gasped as I pulled her jeans and panties down in one smooth motion, her thick thighs trembling as they spread open for me. Her curvy body was flushed pink with arousal, her huge M-cup tits heaving with each breath as I loomed over her on the couch.
"Nick—oh god—we shouldn't... I'm your—"
"Say it, Mom," I growled, palming one of her massive breasts while my other hand trailed fingers along her soaking wet pussy lips. "Tell me who you belong to."
She moaned, her back arching as my fingers dipped inside her dripping entrance. "I-I'm your mother, baby... ohhh, yes right there!"
Her plush pussy clenched around my fingers shamelessly, her motherly instincts warring with her sudden lust for her own son. I could see the struggle in her half-lidded eyes even as she ground her hips against my hand, her thick thighs squeezing around my wrist. The way her big, milky tits jiggled with every movement sent blood rushing straight to my cock.
"Fuck, Mom, look at you," I groaned, pulling my spit-slick fingers from her pussy only to lick them clean right in front of her. She watched with wide eyes as I sucked her juices off my fingers, her plump lips parting with a needy whimper.
"You taste so sweet... kinda like that peach cobbler you made last week."
Geraldine's entire body shuddered at that, her maternal pride mingling with filthy arousal. "Nicky, you can't say things like—ahhh!" Her protest turned into a moan as I suddenly stuffed two fingers back inside her, curling them against that spongy spot that made her eyes roll back.
"Why not?" I smirked, scissoring my fingers inside her tight, wet channel. "Am I not your good boy?"
Her slick coated my hand as I finger-fucked her faster, her pussy making lewd squelching sounds that echoed in the quiet living room. Her large breasts bounced with each thrust of my fingers, her pink nipples rock hard beneath her lacy bra.
"Y-you are!" she gasped, her manicured nails digging into the couch cushions. "Y-you're my perfect boy, my good sweet son, oh god Nicky don't stop—!"
I didn't.
Instead, I ripped her bra off with my free hand, finally freeing those massive udders that had tormented me all morning. Her soft, pale flesh spilled into my hands, the sheer weight of them making my mouth water. I latched onto one stiff nipple, sucking hard while my fingers worked her pussy relentlessly.
Geraldine came with a strangled scream, her thick thighs clamping around my hand as her pussy gushed around my fingers. Her tits jiggled wildly from the force of her orgasm, milky skin flushed deep pink. I drank in every second—the way her motherly eyes glazed over with pleasure, how her manicured hands clutched at me desperately, those full lips trembling as she moaned my name.
When she finally came down from her high, panting and sweaty, I wasted no time yanking my sweatpants down and freeing my aching cock. Her heavy-lidded eyes locked onto my thick length, her pink lips parting in awe.
"My sweet boy is... so big," she breathed, one trembling hand reaching out to stroke me.
"Yours, Mom," I groaned, thrusting into her soft grip. "All yours. Want to be inside you."
Her maternal instincts should have protested. She should've stopped me right then.Instead, she spread her thick thighs even wider.
I lined up my cock with her drooling entrance, watching with rapt attention as the swollen head pressed against her slick folds. Geraldine bit her plush lower lip, her huge tits rising and falling rapidly as she nodded her consent.
Slowly—too slowly for either of our liking—I pushed inside.
Her gasp turned into a broken moan as inch after inch disappeared between her puffy outer lips. She was soaking wet, her tight walls squeezing me perfectly as I bottomed out in her velvety heat.
"Oh fuck," I groaned, gripping her wide hips. "Mom... you're so tight..."
Her glossy lips curved into a shaky smile, one hand coming up to cup my cheek. "That's because I only ever had you, sweetheart... my perfect baby boy."
The way her pussy fluttered around me at those words told me she wasn't referring to childbirth.
I started moving.
-----
Geraldine's breath hitched as I pulled out slowly, her pussy clinging to me like it didn’t want to let go. But when I thrust back in—hard—she let out a high-pitched moan, her huge tits bouncing with the force of it.
"Nnngh—oh god, Nicky!"
Her thighs trembled around my hips as I settled into a deep, relentless rhythm, each thrust punctuated by the wet slap of skin on skin. Her manicured nails dug into my shoulders, her face a mix of maternal adoration and carnal hunger.
"I-Is this okay, baby?" she gasped, even as she rolled her hips to meet each of my thrusts. "W-We shouldn't—ohhh!—but it feels so good..."
"Of course it's okay, Mom," I grunted, palming one of her massive tits, squeezing it roughly. "You were made for this. Made for me."
She whined, her slick walls tightening around my cock at the possessiveness in my voice. I could see the war in her eyes—the part of her that knew this was wrong battling the part that wanted to surrender completely to her son.
And as I leaned down to capture her nipple between my teeth, sucking hard while my fingers pinched the other, she didn't just surrender—she broke.
"Yours!" she screamed, her back arching as her pussy convulsed around me. "Yours yours yours, my boy, m-my good boy!"
Her orgasm hit her like a freight train, her whole body shaking, her thick thighs clamping around me, desperate to keep me buried inside her. I didn’t let up—couldn't let up—pounding into her through her climax, chasing my own.
Her eyes flew open, glazed over with pleasure, her plush lips swollen from biting them. "Cum inside me," she begged, her voice wrecked. "Please, baby, give it to Mommy—fill me!"
That was all I needed.
With a final brutal thrust, I buried myself as deep as I could and came, my orgasm ripping through me like a fucking explosion. Geraldine moaned, her arms circling around my neck as she held me close, whispering praise into my ear.
"That's my good boy... oh, you're so perfect... Mommy loves you so much..."
I shuddered at her words, my cock still twitching inside her as I emptied every last drop into her greedy womb.
When I finally pulled out, her pussy was a mess—my cum leaking out of her, glistening on her plump lower lips. She didn't even try to wipe it away.
Instead, she lay there, breathless and flushed, her huge tits rising as she panted. Then, with a soft giggle, she pulled me against her bosom, cradling my head like she used to when I was little.
"Mmm... my sweet baby," she murmured, stroking my hair.
I smirked, glancing up at her between the valley of her cleavage. "Love you too, Mom."
She blushed, but her smile didn't falter.
Later that night, I caught her standing in front of the mirror wearing one of Gena's old dresses—a little pink sundress that barely contained her new, thicker body.
I froze in the doorway.
She turned, her cheeks flushing as she fidgeted with the hem. "D-Does it look okay...?"
I swallowed hard.
She looked adorable. The way the dress strained against her huge tits, how it hugged every new curve of her thick, motherly body—like some perfect mix of my sweet girlfriend and my even sweeter mom.
But there was something else.
Something nostalgic in the way she played with the fabric.
Like a part of Gena was still in there somewhere.
I crossed the room in three long strides, pulling her into a deep, slow kiss.
"Perfect," I murmured against her lips. "Just like always."
She melted into me, her hands finding mine.
And for the first time, I wondered—
Maybe I could have both.
---
The end of March arrived like stealing sunlight—warm, golden, and over too soon.
I woke up with Geraldine’s thick thighs wrapped around me, her plush body pressed flush against my back, her slow breaths tickling my neck. I could feel the weight of her pillowy tits pressed between my shoulder blades, her warm pussy still sticky against my skin from last night.
A bittersweet ache settled in my chest.
Tonight, my mom would be Gena again.
I turned in her arms, drinking in every detail—the laugh lines around her soft blue eyes, the silver streaks in her messy blonde hair, the way her plump lips curved in sleep. Her motherly scent—vanilla and lavender—filled my lungs.
She stirred, blinking awake before smiling sleepily. “Mmm… morning, sweetheart.”
I didn’t answer.
Instead, I crushed my lips to hers.
Geraldine made a startled sound, but she melted into the kiss almost immediately, her hands sliding down my chest eagerly. I didn’t hold back—I kissed her like it was our last day together, sucking on her tongue, biting her plump lower lip, my hands roaming every inch of her lush curves.
She broke away with a gasp. “Nicky—what’s gotten into you?”
I buried my face in her tits, inhaling deeply before murmuring against her soft skin, “Just don’t wanna forget.”
She understood.
Her fingers slid through my hair, guiding me up so she could kiss me again, slower this time. Sweeter.
“You won’t,” she whispered. “I promise.”
---
We spent the day together like any mother and son—breakfast, laundry, bad daytime TV—except our version included me bending Geraldine over the kitchen counter, fucking her brains out while she sobbed my name.
And after dinner?
We really said our goodbyes.
The bed creaked under us as I mounted her from behind, her thick ass pressed against my hips as I buried myself to the hilt. Geraldine arched her back, her huge tits swaying beneath her as she braced herself on trembling arms.
“T-Tell me again,” she panted, pushing back against me desperately. “Tell me who Mommy belongs to.”
“Me,” I growled, gripping her wide hips tight enough to bruise. “Only me.”
She wailed as I pistoned into her, our bodies slapping together obscenely. I knew she was close—she always was when I talked like that—and I wasn’t far behind.
My hands slid around to grope her massive tits, squeezing them roughly as I fucked into her harder, deeper.
“Gonna fill you up, Mom,” I grunted. “One last time.”
She came with a shattered scream, her pussy milking my cock as I spilled inside her one final time.
We collapsed together, breathless and sweating, her body curled around mine.
And then she said the words I didn’t know I needed to hear—
“I’ll remember everything… and I’ll miss you, Nicky.”
---
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the windows.
I rolled over, expecting warmth—expecting her.
Instead, I found Gena.
Her real face—young, bright, familiar—staring at me with soft wonder.
No silver in her hair. No laugh lines.
All Gena.
I froze.
But then—
She smiled. A slow, knowing, beautiful smile.
“So…” she murmured, stretching her arms above her head with a playful yawn. “Turns out being your mom was really fun.”
My pulse exploded.
She remembered.
Gena giggled at my expression before leaning in, pressing her lips to my ear—
“Maybe we should do it again, probably on the next March? Or should we do it on Mother's day? Or how about being your Grandma, if you want to?”
I grabbed her, flipping her onto her back as she shrieked with laughter.
Yeah.
We definitely would.
(The End.)
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This strange erotic story tells you about a teenage boy named Nicky and his lovely big-tittied girlfriend named Gena, who gets transformed by her boyfriend's amulet from the old magic shop that turns her into an ideal mom and has sex with. Not only that, he will continue to change her any moms or MILFs he wants to fuck.
My name is Nicolas O'Donnell, but most people call me Nick or Nicky for short. I'm just some average handsome high school teenager who finished the boring semester and enjoys the summer with my lovely girlfriend, Gena. Gena and I have been friends since childhood, and we've been dating for almost 6 years now. Gena is a cute, pretty, smart, outgoing, and sexy girl in school. Not only that, we've been hooking up with each other ever since our parents were around, we even found a spot where no one disturbed us, and we were enjoying our time together like playing games, studying each other, and having sex. Our relationship had been great, but lately… something wasn’t right. Not our relationship, we're still together.
Ever since I found that weird amulet at the old shop called "Spell R Us", I couldn’t stop thinking about it, as I was curious and decided to buy it myself. The owner is an old man who sold it to me, had winked and whispered, “Ya know, kid. I never thought that one day, someone would buy this. This amulet will give ya whatever ya want, kid.” As the old man replied, honestly, I didn’t believe in magic—until now.
When my mom and dad are on their honeymoon, I get to invite my girlfriend to come over to spend our time together. For a while, Gena stretched across my bed in nothing but an old band tee and panties, her blonde hair splayed over my pillow. Her body was already incredible—those big E-cup tits spilled out the sides of her shirt, her waist curving just enough to drive me wild. But as I clutched the amulet in my pocket, staring at her while pretending to scroll on my phone like I was texting my friends. I remember what the old shopkeeper said to me, and I was about to try it out, so I imagined my girlfriend, Gena, being someone. Someone… older, old enough at my parents' age. Someone with T-cup tits that defied gravity, hips that swelled into a perfect hourglass, a voice like honey and motherly warmth.
“Babe, why you starin’ at me like that?” Gena giggled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Is there something wrong?"
“Oh no, it's nothing, Gena. I'm just admiring you and... um... enjoy the view,” I lied, my fingers continued squeezing the amulet tighter as I tried to focus on my s. “Here goes nothing, c'mon, change for me,” I thought, unsure if it was even real.
Then, she twitched.
A weird little shiver ran through Gena’s body. She frowned, rubbing her forehead. “Ugh,... what's happening to me?... why... do... I feel kinda… dizzy...”
I held my breath as I realized the moment of transformation had begun.
Her fingers drifted down, grazing her own breasts absentmindedly, and—holy shit—were they… swelling? Just slightly, but I could see them pushing against her thin shirt. The curve of her waist seemed to soften, her hips widening ever so slightly beneath the sheets.
“Nicky, ba... baby,” she murmured, her voice already deeper, huskier. “I don’t… I don’t feel like myself.”
I swallowed hard, my cock already pressing against my jeans. “It’s okay, Gena,” I whispered, crawling onto the bed beside her. “You’re just gonna be fine.”
Gena’s eyes fluttered—and changed. Her once-playful gaze turned softer, warmer, filled with an easy maturity. A crease formed between her brows, then smoothed out. Her lips—full and painted a soft pink before—turned a deeper shade, her mouth parting slightly as a strange, dazed recognition flickered across her face.
“Nicky… sweetheart?” she murmured, voice thick with sudden affection.
My heart pounded with excitement. It was working.
I reached out, letting my fingers brush her side—and gasped. Her skin was softer now, silkier, with the faintest touch of age smoothing over her. Her tits had risen higher, fuller, heavier, straining against the fabric of her shirt.
“Oh... my... god,...” I whispered, unable to stop.
She blinked slowly, then smiled—a warm, maternal smile—before her hand drifted up to cup my cheek. “Baby, you look tense,” she cooed. “Did you have a hard day?”
I shuddered. She thought, acted, and sounded like she was my mom all of a sudden.
But her transformation wasn’t done yet. The amulet was burning in my pocket now, pulsing with energy as her body shifted. Her E-Cup tits swelled impossibly larger, her shirt seams groaning before finally snapping, buttons pinging across the room as those massive T-cup mommy milkers spilled free.
“Oh my!” she gasped—her voice now deep, velvety—and looked down at herself. Her fingers traced over her new curves, her huge areolas darkening, her nipples stiffening. “Ohhh… I forgot how big I was.”
Her stomach had softened into a perfect little pooch, leading down to thickened thighs that could smother a man. Her face had aged—just enough—to show laugh lines, motherhood written in every new crease. Her blonde hair had darkened slightly, now streaked with a few silvery strands, swept into a loose, messy updo of a dirty blonde.
And most of all—she looks entirely different from what she was, and believed she was my mom.
Geraldine.
My new mommy, whom I always dream about.
Her eyes flicked down, spotting my raging hard-on, and she tutted—like this wasn’t the first time she’d caught me like this. “Nicky, really?” she sighed, shaking her head. “You know you shouldn’t be getting all worked up like this.”
I couldn’t take it. My hands shot up, groping her monstrously huge tits—so much bigger than before, so perfect—and she gasped, her cheeks flushing.
“Nicky! My, what are you doing to your mom, sweetie?” Gena,... or rather, Geraldine scolded, but she didn’t pull away. She's surprised when my hands reach out and cupping her massive tits. I knew—this was so much better than Gena. But I still love my girlfriend. Right now, I just want to enjoy my time with my "mom".
Gena gasped, her body felt sensitive to my touch. "Nicky... sweetie... you... you can't do that. I'm your mom."
I smiled, my thumbs brushing over her hard nipples. "I know, mom. I'm sorry, but I couldn't help myself."
Geraldine moaned, her eyes fluttering closed as my hands explored her body. I leaned down, my mouth capturing one of her nipples as he sucked it into my mouth. Geraldine cried out, her hands grasping my head as she held mine to her.
My hand slid down her body, slipping between her legs. I could feel her heat, her wetness, even through her panties. I hooked my fingers into the waistband, pulling them down and off her legs.
I sat up, straddling her hips as I looked down at her naked curvaceous hourglass body. My cock was hard, throbbing with need as I quickly shed my own clothes.
Gena looked up at me, her eyes filled with a mix of lust and confusion. "Nicky... baby... w... we can't do this. I'm your mom. And... what if your d... dad gets home and sees us like this.."
I smiled, my hands sliding up her thighs as I spread her legs wide. "I don't care, mom. And you know, even if you're my mom, I still love you."
With that, I slid my cock into her, her warm, wet pussy enveloping him completely. We both moaned, our bodies moving together in a dance as old as time.
Geraldine's massive breasts bounced with each thrust, her nipples hard and begging to be sucked. I leaned down, capturing one in my mouth as i continued to fuck her, my cock sliding in and out of her at a relentless pace.
Gena moaned, her head thrashing from side to side as she cried out, "Nicky... baby... we... have to stop... what if... someone... would..."
The more she moaned, the more horny I got, and I wasn't listening. I was too far gone, as my body was overcome with lust and desire. I fucked her harder, my cock pounding into her as I continued suck at her massive tits.
Geraldine's protests turned to moans of pleasure, her body shaking with each thrust. But she still tried to resist, her hands pushing at my chest as she begged me to stop.
I looked up at her, my eyes filled with determination. I captured her mouth in a searing kiss, my tongue sliding between her lips as I silenced her protests.
Gena-Geraldine moaned into my mouth, her body melting against mine as she gave in to her desires. When I finally pulled away, she looked up at me, her eyes filled with lust and need.
"You know what, baby," she murmured. "I think mommy love it, now fuck your momma like a slut."
I grinned, my cock throbbing with triumph. I sat back, grabbing her wide hips as I slammed into her, my cock pounding into her at a relentless pace.
Gena-Geraldine cried out, her massive breasts bouncing with each thrust as she moaned, "Yes, baby. Yes! Fuck your momma. Fuck me. Fuck me like a lover."
Our lovemaking was intense, our bodies slick with sweat as we moved together. When we finally cum, it was explosive, our bodies shaking with the intensity of our orgasms.
I collapsed on top of my ideal mom, Geraldine, my cock still buried deep inside her. She wrapped her arms around me, her hands stroking my back as she cooed softly to me.
"That's my boy," she murmured and giggled.
I grinned, my cock already hardening again at her words. I looked up at her, my eyes filled with love and lust.
"I love you, mom," he said, his voice filled with sincerity.
Gena-now-Geraldine smiled, her eyes filled with love. "I love you, too, sweety."
As we lay and cuddled there, our bodies entwined, I knew that this was just the beginning of my exciting transformation adventure. Gena might no longer just my girlfriend, she becomes my ideal MILF that I dreamed about. Maybe this transformation wasn't so bad after all. Perhaps, I could change her back, and then she doesn't remember any of it, or I could keep her this way until my parents get back.
To be continued…
My name is Nicolas O'Donnell, but most people call me Nick or Nicky for short. I'm just some average handsome high school teenager who finished the boring semester and enjoys the summer with my lovely girlfriend, Gena. Gena and I have been friends since childhood, and we've been dating for almost 6 years now. Gena is a cute, pretty, smart, outgoing, and sexy girl in school. Not only that, we've been hooking up with each other ever since our parents were around, we even found a spot where no one disturbed us, and we were enjoying our time together like playing games, studying each other, and having sex. Our relationship had been great, but lately… something wasn’t right. Not our relationship, we're still together.
Ever since I found that weird amulet at the old shop called "Spell R Us", I couldn’t stop thinking about it, as I was curious and decided to buy it myself. The owner is an old man who sold it to me, had winked and whispered, “Ya know, kid. I never thought that one day, someone would buy this. This amulet will give ya whatever ya want, kid.” As the old man replied, honestly, I didn’t believe in magic—until now.
When my mom and dad are on their honeymoon, I get to invite my girlfriend to come over to spend our time together. For a while, Gena stretched across my bed in nothing but an old band tee and panties, her blonde hair splayed over my pillow. Her body was already incredible—those big E-cup tits spilled out the sides of her shirt, her waist curving just enough to drive me wild. But as I clutched the amulet in my pocket, staring at her while pretending to scroll on my phone like I was texting my friends. I remember what the old shopkeeper said to me, and I was about to try it out, so I imagined my girlfriend, Gena, being someone. Someone… older, old enough at my parents' age. Someone with T-cup tits that defied gravity, hips that swelled into a perfect hourglass, a voice like honey and motherly warmth.
“Babe, why you starin’ at me like that?” Gena giggled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Is there something wrong?"
“Oh no, it's nothing, Gena. I'm just admiring you and... um... enjoy the view,” I lied, my fingers continued squeezing the amulet tighter as I tried to focus on my s. “Here goes nothing, c'mon, change for me,” I thought, unsure if it was even real.
Then, she twitched.
A weird little shiver ran through Gena’s body. She frowned, rubbing her forehead. “Ugh,... what's happening to me?... why... do... I feel kinda… dizzy...”
I held my breath as I realized the moment of transformation had begun.
Her fingers drifted down, grazing her own breasts absentmindedly, and—holy shit—were they… swelling? Just slightly, but I could see them pushing against her thin shirt. The curve of her waist seemed to soften, her hips widening ever so slightly beneath the sheets.
“Nicky, ba... baby,” she murmured, her voice already deeper, huskier. “I don’t… I don’t feel like myself.”
I swallowed hard, my cock already pressing against my jeans. “It’s okay, Gena,” I whispered, crawling onto the bed beside her. “You’re just gonna be fine.”
Gena’s eyes fluttered—and changed. Her once-playful gaze turned softer, warmer, filled with an easy maturity. A crease formed between her brows, then smoothed out. Her lips—full and painted a soft pink before—turned a deeper shade, her mouth parting slightly as a strange, dazed recognition flickered across her face.
“Nicky… sweetheart?” she murmured, voice thick with sudden affection.
My heart pounded with excitement. It was working.
I reached out, letting my fingers brush her side—and gasped. Her skin was softer now, silkier, with the faintest touch of age smoothing over her. Her tits had risen higher, fuller, heavier, straining against the fabric of her shirt.
“Oh... my... god,...” I whispered, unable to stop.
She blinked slowly, then smiled—a warm, maternal smile—before her hand drifted up to cup my cheek. “Baby, you look tense,” she cooed. “Did you have a hard day?”
I shuddered. She thought, acted, and sounded like she was my mom all of a sudden.
But her transformation wasn’t done yet. The amulet was burning in my pocket now, pulsing with energy as her body shifted. Her E-Cup tits swelled impossibly larger, her shirt seams groaning before finally snapping, buttons pinging across the room as those massive T-cup mommy milkers spilled free.
“Oh my!” she gasped—her voice now deep, velvety—and looked down at herself. Her fingers traced over her new curves, her huge areolas darkening, her nipples stiffening. “Ohhh… I forgot how big I was.”
Her stomach had softened into a perfect little pooch, leading down to thickened thighs that could smother a man. Her face had aged—just enough—to show laugh lines, motherhood written in every new crease. Her blonde hair had darkened slightly, now streaked with a few silvery strands, swept into a loose, messy updo of a dirty blonde.
And most of all—she looks entirely different from what she was, and believed she was my mom.
Geraldine.
My new mommy, whom I always dream about.
Her eyes flicked down, spotting my raging hard-on, and she tutted—like this wasn’t the first time she’d caught me like this. “Nicky, really?” she sighed, shaking her head. “You know you shouldn’t be getting all worked up like this.”
I couldn’t take it. My hands shot up, groping her monstrously huge tits—so much bigger than before, so perfect—and she gasped, her cheeks flushing.
“Nicky! My, what are you doing to your mom, sweetie?” Gena,... or rather, Geraldine scolded, but she didn’t pull away. She's surprised when my hands reach out and cupping her massive tits. I knew—this was so much better than Gena. But I still love my girlfriend. Right now, I just want to enjoy my time with my "mom".
Gena gasped, her body felt sensitive to my touch. "Nicky... sweetie... you... you can't do that. I'm your mom."
I smiled, my thumbs brushing over her hard nipples. "I know, mom. I'm sorry, but I couldn't help myself."
Geraldine moaned, her eyes fluttering closed as my hands explored her body. I leaned down, my mouth capturing one of her nipples as he sucked it into my mouth. Geraldine cried out, her hands grasping my head as she held mine to her.
My hand slid down her body, slipping between her legs. I could feel her heat, her wetness, even through her panties. I hooked my fingers into the waistband, pulling them down and off her legs.
I sat up, straddling her hips as I looked down at her naked curvaceous hourglass body. My cock was hard, throbbing with need as I quickly shed my own clothes.
Gena looked up at me, her eyes filled with a mix of lust and confusion. "Nicky... baby... w... we can't do this. I'm your mom. And... what if your d... dad gets home and sees us like this.."
I smiled, my hands sliding up her thighs as I spread her legs wide. "I don't care, mom. And you know, even if you're my mom, I still love you."
With that, I slid my cock into her, her warm, wet pussy enveloping him completely. We both moaned, our bodies moving together in a dance as old as time.
Geraldine's massive breasts bounced with each thrust, her nipples hard and begging to be sucked. I leaned down, capturing one in my mouth as i continued to fuck her, my cock sliding in and out of her at a relentless pace.
Gena moaned, her head thrashing from side to side as she cried out, "Nicky... baby... we... have to stop... what if... someone... would..."
The more she moaned, the more horny I got, and I wasn't listening. I was too far gone, as my body was overcome with lust and desire. I fucked her harder, my cock pounding into her as I continued suck at her massive tits.
Geraldine's protests turned to moans of pleasure, her body shaking with each thrust. But she still tried to resist, her hands pushing at my chest as she begged me to stop.
I looked up at her, my eyes filled with determination. I captured her mouth in a searing kiss, my tongue sliding between her lips as I silenced her protests.
Gena-Geraldine moaned into my mouth, her body melting against mine as she gave in to her desires. When I finally pulled away, she looked up at me, her eyes filled with lust and need.
"You know what, baby," she murmured. "I think mommy love it, now fuck your momma like a slut."
I grinned, my cock throbbing with triumph. I sat back, grabbing her wide hips as I slammed into her, my cock pounding into her at a relentless pace.
Gena-Geraldine cried out, her massive breasts bouncing with each thrust as she moaned, "Yes, baby. Yes! Fuck your momma. Fuck me. Fuck me like a lover."
Our lovemaking was intense, our bodies slick with sweat as we moved together. When we finally cum, it was explosive, our bodies shaking with the intensity of our orgasms.
I collapsed on top of my ideal mom, Geraldine, my cock still buried deep inside her. She wrapped her arms around me, her hands stroking my back as she cooed softly to me.
"That's my boy," she murmured and giggled.
I grinned, my cock already hardening again at her words. I looked up at her, my eyes filled with love and lust.
"I love you, mom," he said, his voice filled with sincerity.
Gena-now-Geraldine smiled, her eyes filled with love. "I love you, too, sweety."
As we lay and cuddled there, our bodies entwined, I knew that this was just the beginning of my exciting transformation adventure. Gena might no longer just my girlfriend, she becomes my ideal MILF that I dreamed about. Maybe this transformation wasn't so bad after all. Perhaps, I could change her back, and then she doesn't remember any of it, or I could keep her this way until my parents get back.
To be continued…
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Plot
Your body was stolen by a super busty Goth Girl. You now have to live her life. You find out you switched because her family was cursed to give their bodies to a stranger of the opposite sex on their 21st birthday. Emily just chose you at random.
Characters
Emily Lunawood: The goth girl who stole your body. She is wearing fishnet stockings, a short skirt with a black lace thong under it, a revealing top with a black lace bra under it and black high heels when she steals your body. She has black hair with red dyed tips, it goes to her waist.
You: An average looking man, you have brown hair and blue eyes. Your slightly muscular.
One moment, I was pressing my palm to the mirror, mesmerized by the way my reflection moved without me. The next—reality twisted, inverted. A dizzying lurch, and I was staring out from the glass at my own horrified face.
Oh God.
My body—Emily’s body now—was already backing away, her—my—lips curling into a smirk that felt alien on my features. "Enjoy the new life," she said in my voice, rolling my shoulders like she was testing them out. "Trust me, you’ll need it."
"Switch us back!" I snapped, but the words came out in her higher, smoother tone—hers now. My hands—slender, unfamiliar—clenched at my sides.
She just smirked, my smirk, and reached for the jacket I’d draped over the chair. "Check the purse, sweetheart. You’ll definitely want to." Then, with a wink that made my stomach twist, she was gone, the door slamming behind her before I could even think to chase her—me.
Nausea rolled through me as I grabbed the leather handbag by the dresser. My fingers fumbled with the zipper, shaking as I pulled out a wallet and flipped it open. Emily Lunawood. 21. 309 Cedar Lane.
The drive was a nightmare of panicked swerves and clumsy turns; the car, an automatic, felt foreign without my stick shift to grip. Her—my—apartment was all soft grays and jasmine in the air, pristine except for the open notebook on the kitchen counter.
A single note sat beside it, written in fluid, looping script.
Sorry to whoever is now me, it read, my family was cursed years ago. On the 21st birthday, we are forced to seek out someone of the opposite sex and give them our bodies. You will be given my memories the first night you sleep. Signed Emily Lunawood.
A bitter laugh clawed its way out of my throat. Of course. I thumbed open the notebook—passwords, addresses, even a meticulously planned gym schedule—before collapsing onto the couch, my (her) head in my (her) hands.
The bed was too plush, the sheets too silky, but exhaustion won out. I fell into the dark, and when dreams came, they weren’t mine.
They were hers—childhood summers, first heartbreaks, whispered family warnings that the curse had no loopholes, no way back. And worst of all? The unshakable knowledge that no one in the Lunawood bloodline had ever escaped it.
The first thing I registered as consciousness crawled back was the delicious ache between my thighs and the whisper of stockings against freshly shaved skin. My fingers—her fingers—traced the outline of fishnets stretched taut over smooth legs, the crisscross pattern pressing kisses into flesh that wasn’t mine. A gasp caught in my throat as I realized the skirt riding up was obscenely short, the lace of my thong riding high enough to tease at the curve of my—her—ass. The top barely contained the swell of cleavage spilling over a black lace bra, the fabric sheer enough to outline hardened nipples.
I shifted—God, even the movement felt different—and nearly toppled off the bed when the spiked heels caught in the sheets. My reflection in the vanity mirror was a punch to the gut: smudged eyeliner, swollen lips bitten red, black hair cascading over bare shoulders with crimson streaks blazing through it like warning flares.
And the worst part? The thrill zipping down my spine at how good it all felt.
I got up and went to a mirror.
The mirror showed me—her—in full, and I barely recognized the predatory amusement in my new eyes. My fingers trembled as they traced the curve of my waist, the dip of my collarbone, every unfamiliar contour both alien and intoxicating. The lace of my bra dug into soft flesh when I inhaled sharply, my nails biting crescents into my palms—just to feel something real.
A slow, involuntary roll of my hips sent a jolt through me—her body knew exactly what it wanted. The fishnets rasped against my thighs as I spread my legs slightly, just enough to feel the damp heat pooling where the thong cut in.
Jesus.
I watched in horrified fascination as my reflection’s tongue swiped over painted lips, my own breath coming faster as I fought the urge to slide a hand lower. This wasn’t me—
But the thought shattered when I arched my back experimentally, and the bra’s clasp strained against the motion. A whimper escaped me—high, breathy, embarrassingly feminine—as my nipple peaked tighter against the lace, the sensation so intense it nearly buckled my knees.
The purse Emily left gaped open on the bed, a glint of metal catching my eye. I reached for it with shaking fingers and pulled out a slim silver vibrator, still slick with—
Oh God, she’d been using this right before swapping us.
The realization burned through me hotter than shame. My reflection’s pupils blew wide as my thumb brushed the damp button, the device humming to life with a predatory purr. The sound alone dragged a moan from my throat—her throat.
I shouldn’t.
I couldn’t stop.
The vibrator pressed against my inner thigh, the vibrations rippling up through the fishnets like a live wire. Every rational thought short-circuited when I dragged it higher, the lace of my panties already soaked through.
The mirror showed it all—the way my hips jerked when the buzzing found my clit, the obscene glide of the toy through slick folds as I fucked myself with it in frantic, shallow thrusts.
"Fuck—fuck—" My voice was a broken thing, her voice, her pleasure, even as my mind screamed that this wasn’t right.
But God, it felt like heaven.
The orgasm hit like a train, my back slamming against the vanity as my legs gave out. Pleasure pulsed through me in dizzying waves, my reflection’s mouth slack with ecstasy, mascara streaking down flushed cheeks.
I slid to the floor, trembling, the vibrator still buzzing weakly against my thigh.
What the hell was I becoming?
The question pulsed through me like a second heartbeat as I stared at my reflection lips parted, chest rising and falling rapidly. The need to feel more, to explore this stolen flesh, burned hotter than reason.
The top was the first to go. I reached behind my neck to undo the clasp, letting the silky material pool around my waist before sliding it the rest of the way down.
With shaking hands, I reached up and tugged at the straps of the lace bra, seeing in the process a 42F tag. The fabric resisted for a moment before giving way, setting my full breasts free. They bounced slightly with the motion, nipples hardening immediately in the cool air. A shiver ran through me as my fingers brushed against one, the contact sending a jolt straight to my still-throbbing core.
The fishnets came next. I hooked my thumbs into the waistband, rolling them down with slow, deliberate movements. The material clung stubbornly, the crisscross pattern stretching then snapping back against my hips with each inch exposed. Smooth skin emerged beneath, freshly waxed and still tingling from earlier.
The thong was soaked through, the damp lace clinging obscenely when I finally shimmied out of it. My fingers trailed along the inside of my thighs before pausing at the apex - so smooth, so incredibly different. The scent of my own arousal filled the air as I tentatively spread my legs wider, watching in the mirror as the evidence of my pleasure glistened under soft light.
I ran trembling hands over my new body - from the dip of my waist up to cup my breasts, thumbs circling peaked nipples that responded eagerly to every touch. A breathy moan escaped my lips as one hand slid lower, fingertips brushing through damp curls before sinking into slick heat.
This isn't me.
This feels so good.
The contradictions warred in my mind even as my body arched into my own touch, hips rocking against my fingers with increasing urgency. The mirror showed it all - showed her - lost in pleasure, mouth open in silent ecstasy as fingers worked furiously between spread thighs.
When the wave crashed over me this time, I barely recognized my own scream.
The shower did nothing to wash away the surreal thrill of my stolen skin—every inch of Emily’s body still buzzed unnervingly under my touch. Steam fogged the mirror as I toweled off, deliberately running my (her) hands down the unfamiliar slope of narrow waist and curved hips. The face staring back—sharp cheekbones, violet eyes heavy with something darkly knowing—still sent a jolt through me.
I knotted the silk robe too tight, ignoring how it barely covered her thighs. Luckily thanks to her memories, I knew she didn't have any close relationships. I also knew that she would find me again soon, since the curse had a second component. The swapped individuals would fall in love and help continue the family line.
Emily—me now—had left more than just her lipsticks and half-used perfume. The sleek black phone buzzed beneath my fingers, unlocked by my—her—face. I swallowed hard. Time to take inventory of my new life.
Bank Account
The app opened instantly. I blinked.
$84,756.22
I actually laughed, sharp and disbelieving. Savings account? Another $312K. I tapped through transaction history—monthly deposits from something called Lunawood Holdings for $15K, along with smaller payments labeled consulting fees. What the hell kind of consulting did she do?
Social Media
The first tab I tapped was Instagram—her Instagram. My stomach clenched as the app loaded, revealing a digital shrine to seduction. The blue checkmark was inevitable. The bio burned into my retinas: 💋 Your Next Bad Decision 💋, all smirking lips and dangerous promise.
The feed was a slow, deliberate burn—no accidents here. Every shot was a masterclass in teasing control. Silk sheets tangled around one bare thigh, the shadow-dipped dip of her spine as she arched over a hotel balcony, a crimson-lacquered nail dragging down a champagne flute. No laughter, no adrenaline—just heat, simmering in every flick of her wrist, every half-lidded glance at the camera like she could already feel hands on her skin. The captions were sparse, deliberate: "Late nights only", "Tell me how badly you want it", "Good boys don't get to touch."
Every post wasn’t just a demand to look—it was a dare to want.
Twitter was a constant stream of punchy one-liners and suggestive stunt reels. TikTok was a minefield of temptation—short, scorching loops of Emily arching against silk bedsheets, biting her lower lip in teasing slow-motion, her fingers tracing idle circles over the lace hem of lingerie before cutting to black. No laughter, no wasted movement—just a half-second of exposed thigh, the barest glimpse of teeth grazing skin, all set to a pulse-heavy soundtrack that left you craving another replay. Every clip was a dare wrapped in five seconds of sin.
OnlyFans
The icon made my fingers hesitate. Of course she had one. I tapped it—password already saved—and nearly choked.
$27K last month. $42K the month before. A catalog of paywalled galleries—Mistress in Marble, Bondage & Breakfast, each one featuring me now, in poses so sinful my pulse stuttered. There I was, sprawled across black satin sheets, fingers tangled in my own hair as I arched toward the camera, lips parted just enough to tease. Another series showed me kneeling in thigh-high stockings, the garter straps biting into creamy skin while I stared down the lens with heavy-lidded authority.
Subscriptions
Then came the subscriptions. Of course she had every premium streaming service—Netflix, HBO, the works—but the real fun started scrolling down. Paid access to high-end porn sites, all sleek branding and "exclusive content." A membership to Velvet Orbit, some kind of luxury erotic streaming platform with thumbnails featuring tangled limbs under silk sheets and promises of "real couples, real desires."
I was closing out of the accounts when I heard it—three sharp raps against the bedroom wall, followed by two slower ones. A pattern. Deliberate.
My breath caught. That wasn’t the front door.
Emily’s memories surfaced like fragments of a dream—pressed against this same wall, her fingers finding the nearly invisible seam in the wallpaper, pushing just so—
A hidden door clicked open.
I froze as the panel swung inward, revealing a narrow passage barely wide enough for shoulders. And there, leaning against the frame with a smirk that matched the one I’d worn earlier, stood me.
My old body looked different now. The way he held himself was all Emily; the cocky tilt of his chin, the way his fingers drummed a lazy rhythm against his thigh. His shirt hung open, revealing the chest I used to know every scar and freckle of.
“Miss me already?” His voice was mine, but the cadence, the purr—hers.
“You—” My throat tightened. I hadn’t realized how much taller I used to be until I had to look up at myself.
“Uh-uh.” He wagged a finger—my finger—and stepped inside, the hidden door whispering shut behind him. “Rule one of the curse: no take-backs.” His gaze dragged over me, lingering where the robe gaped at my chest. “Though I do like what I see.”
A flush burned up my neck. “This isn’t funny.”
“Oh, it’s hilarious.” He prowled closer, close enough that I caught my old cologne on his skin. “I was hoping you’d find the toys first.” His grin widened as my cheeks heated. “Oh, you did.”
I backed up until the vanity dug into my spine. “Why are you here?”
His grin turned wicked as he leaned in, close enough for his borrowed lips to brush my ear. "Because you will be my bride and help continue the line as per the second half of the curse."
A few years later
The pain was unbearable—a searing, primal fire tearing through me with every contraction. My nails dug into the hospital bed sheets, sweat gluing Emily’s—no, mine now—long black hair to my face.
"You’re doing amazing," he murmured, squeezing my hand. Even now, with my old face lined with worry, the way he tilted his head was pure Emily—that same confident smirk tempered by something softer. The silver band on his finger glinted under the harsh hospital lights, matching the one nestled securely against my own ring finger.
"Shut up," I gasped, arching off the bed as another wave hit. "This is your fault.*"
He just chuckled, brushing damp strands back from my forehead. "Our family now, sweetheart." His thumb traced my knuckles. "And trust me, when you hold her, you won’t regret a damn thing."
The nurse between my legs looked up, grinning. "One more push, Mom. She’s right there."
I barely had time to scream before the pressure shattered into sudden, dizzying relief. A fragile, furious wail filled the room, and then—
Her.
Tiny. Perfect. Swaddled in a pink blanket and placed carefully against my chest, her little face scrunched up in outrage. Dark lashes fluttered against petal-soft cheeks, her miniature fingers curling reflexively around mine.
"Congratulations," the nurse murmured. "She’s beautiful."
I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe. The weight of her was terrifying, intoxicating—mine.
"She has your nose," he whispered, bending to press a kiss to my temple. His—my old—calloused finger traced the baby’s shock of dark hair. "But your mother’s eyes." His voice cracked. "God, look at her."
The baby blinked up at us, her tiny mouth working silently before she settled with a sigh. The monitors beeped steadily, the world narrowing to this moment—this impossible, inevitable moment.
I leaned back against the pillows, exhausted, euphoric, and met my husband’s gaze.
"Worth it?" he teased, wiping a tear from my cheek with his thumb.
I clutched our daughter tighter—the next in the Lunawood line—and laughed through the tears.
Your body was stolen by a super busty Goth Girl. You now have to live her life. You find out you switched because her family was cursed to give their bodies to a stranger of the opposite sex on their 21st birthday. Emily just chose you at random.
Characters
Emily Lunawood: The goth girl who stole your body. She is wearing fishnet stockings, a short skirt with a black lace thong under it, a revealing top with a black lace bra under it and black high heels when she steals your body. She has black hair with red dyed tips, it goes to her waist.
You: An average looking man, you have brown hair and blue eyes. Your slightly muscular.
One moment, I was pressing my palm to the mirror, mesmerized by the way my reflection moved without me. The next—reality twisted, inverted. A dizzying lurch, and I was staring out from the glass at my own horrified face.
Oh God.
My body—Emily’s body now—was already backing away, her—my—lips curling into a smirk that felt alien on my features. "Enjoy the new life," she said in my voice, rolling my shoulders like she was testing them out. "Trust me, you’ll need it."
"Switch us back!" I snapped, but the words came out in her higher, smoother tone—hers now. My hands—slender, unfamiliar—clenched at my sides.
She just smirked, my smirk, and reached for the jacket I’d draped over the chair. "Check the purse, sweetheart. You’ll definitely want to." Then, with a wink that made my stomach twist, she was gone, the door slamming behind her before I could even think to chase her—me.
Nausea rolled through me as I grabbed the leather handbag by the dresser. My fingers fumbled with the zipper, shaking as I pulled out a wallet and flipped it open. Emily Lunawood. 21. 309 Cedar Lane.
The drive was a nightmare of panicked swerves and clumsy turns; the car, an automatic, felt foreign without my stick shift to grip. Her—my—apartment was all soft grays and jasmine in the air, pristine except for the open notebook on the kitchen counter.
A single note sat beside it, written in fluid, looping script.
Sorry to whoever is now me, it read, my family was cursed years ago. On the 21st birthday, we are forced to seek out someone of the opposite sex and give them our bodies. You will be given my memories the first night you sleep. Signed Emily Lunawood.
A bitter laugh clawed its way out of my throat. Of course. I thumbed open the notebook—passwords, addresses, even a meticulously planned gym schedule—before collapsing onto the couch, my (her) head in my (her) hands.
The bed was too plush, the sheets too silky, but exhaustion won out. I fell into the dark, and when dreams came, they weren’t mine.
They were hers—childhood summers, first heartbreaks, whispered family warnings that the curse had no loopholes, no way back. And worst of all? The unshakable knowledge that no one in the Lunawood bloodline had ever escaped it.
The first thing I registered as consciousness crawled back was the delicious ache between my thighs and the whisper of stockings against freshly shaved skin. My fingers—her fingers—traced the outline of fishnets stretched taut over smooth legs, the crisscross pattern pressing kisses into flesh that wasn’t mine. A gasp caught in my throat as I realized the skirt riding up was obscenely short, the lace of my thong riding high enough to tease at the curve of my—her—ass. The top barely contained the swell of cleavage spilling over a black lace bra, the fabric sheer enough to outline hardened nipples.
I shifted—God, even the movement felt different—and nearly toppled off the bed when the spiked heels caught in the sheets. My reflection in the vanity mirror was a punch to the gut: smudged eyeliner, swollen lips bitten red, black hair cascading over bare shoulders with crimson streaks blazing through it like warning flares.
And the worst part? The thrill zipping down my spine at how good it all felt.
I got up and went to a mirror.
The mirror showed me—her—in full, and I barely recognized the predatory amusement in my new eyes. My fingers trembled as they traced the curve of my waist, the dip of my collarbone, every unfamiliar contour both alien and intoxicating. The lace of my bra dug into soft flesh when I inhaled sharply, my nails biting crescents into my palms—just to feel something real.
A slow, involuntary roll of my hips sent a jolt through me—her body knew exactly what it wanted. The fishnets rasped against my thighs as I spread my legs slightly, just enough to feel the damp heat pooling where the thong cut in.
Jesus.
I watched in horrified fascination as my reflection’s tongue swiped over painted lips, my own breath coming faster as I fought the urge to slide a hand lower. This wasn’t me—
But the thought shattered when I arched my back experimentally, and the bra’s clasp strained against the motion. A whimper escaped me—high, breathy, embarrassingly feminine—as my nipple peaked tighter against the lace, the sensation so intense it nearly buckled my knees.
The purse Emily left gaped open on the bed, a glint of metal catching my eye. I reached for it with shaking fingers and pulled out a slim silver vibrator, still slick with—
Oh God, she’d been using this right before swapping us.
The realization burned through me hotter than shame. My reflection’s pupils blew wide as my thumb brushed the damp button, the device humming to life with a predatory purr. The sound alone dragged a moan from my throat—her throat.
I shouldn’t.
I couldn’t stop.
The vibrator pressed against my inner thigh, the vibrations rippling up through the fishnets like a live wire. Every rational thought short-circuited when I dragged it higher, the lace of my panties already soaked through.
The mirror showed it all—the way my hips jerked when the buzzing found my clit, the obscene glide of the toy through slick folds as I fucked myself with it in frantic, shallow thrusts.
"Fuck—fuck—" My voice was a broken thing, her voice, her pleasure, even as my mind screamed that this wasn’t right.
But God, it felt like heaven.
The orgasm hit like a train, my back slamming against the vanity as my legs gave out. Pleasure pulsed through me in dizzying waves, my reflection’s mouth slack with ecstasy, mascara streaking down flushed cheeks.
I slid to the floor, trembling, the vibrator still buzzing weakly against my thigh.
What the hell was I becoming?
The question pulsed through me like a second heartbeat as I stared at my reflection lips parted, chest rising and falling rapidly. The need to feel more, to explore this stolen flesh, burned hotter than reason.
The top was the first to go. I reached behind my neck to undo the clasp, letting the silky material pool around my waist before sliding it the rest of the way down.
With shaking hands, I reached up and tugged at the straps of the lace bra, seeing in the process a 42F tag. The fabric resisted for a moment before giving way, setting my full breasts free. They bounced slightly with the motion, nipples hardening immediately in the cool air. A shiver ran through me as my fingers brushed against one, the contact sending a jolt straight to my still-throbbing core.
The fishnets came next. I hooked my thumbs into the waistband, rolling them down with slow, deliberate movements. The material clung stubbornly, the crisscross pattern stretching then snapping back against my hips with each inch exposed. Smooth skin emerged beneath, freshly waxed and still tingling from earlier.
The thong was soaked through, the damp lace clinging obscenely when I finally shimmied out of it. My fingers trailed along the inside of my thighs before pausing at the apex - so smooth, so incredibly different. The scent of my own arousal filled the air as I tentatively spread my legs wider, watching in the mirror as the evidence of my pleasure glistened under soft light.
I ran trembling hands over my new body - from the dip of my waist up to cup my breasts, thumbs circling peaked nipples that responded eagerly to every touch. A breathy moan escaped my lips as one hand slid lower, fingertips brushing through damp curls before sinking into slick heat.
This isn't me.
This feels so good.
The contradictions warred in my mind even as my body arched into my own touch, hips rocking against my fingers with increasing urgency. The mirror showed it all - showed her - lost in pleasure, mouth open in silent ecstasy as fingers worked furiously between spread thighs.
When the wave crashed over me this time, I barely recognized my own scream.
The shower did nothing to wash away the surreal thrill of my stolen skin—every inch of Emily’s body still buzzed unnervingly under my touch. Steam fogged the mirror as I toweled off, deliberately running my (her) hands down the unfamiliar slope of narrow waist and curved hips. The face staring back—sharp cheekbones, violet eyes heavy with something darkly knowing—still sent a jolt through me.
I knotted the silk robe too tight, ignoring how it barely covered her thighs. Luckily thanks to her memories, I knew she didn't have any close relationships. I also knew that she would find me again soon, since the curse had a second component. The swapped individuals would fall in love and help continue the family line.
Emily—me now—had left more than just her lipsticks and half-used perfume. The sleek black phone buzzed beneath my fingers, unlocked by my—her—face. I swallowed hard. Time to take inventory of my new life.
Bank Account
The app opened instantly. I blinked.
$84,756.22
I actually laughed, sharp and disbelieving. Savings account? Another $312K. I tapped through transaction history—monthly deposits from something called Lunawood Holdings for $15K, along with smaller payments labeled consulting fees. What the hell kind of consulting did she do?
Social Media
The first tab I tapped was Instagram—her Instagram. My stomach clenched as the app loaded, revealing a digital shrine to seduction. The blue checkmark was inevitable. The bio burned into my retinas: 💋 Your Next Bad Decision 💋, all smirking lips and dangerous promise.
The feed was a slow, deliberate burn—no accidents here. Every shot was a masterclass in teasing control. Silk sheets tangled around one bare thigh, the shadow-dipped dip of her spine as she arched over a hotel balcony, a crimson-lacquered nail dragging down a champagne flute. No laughter, no adrenaline—just heat, simmering in every flick of her wrist, every half-lidded glance at the camera like she could already feel hands on her skin. The captions were sparse, deliberate: "Late nights only", "Tell me how badly you want it", "Good boys don't get to touch."
Every post wasn’t just a demand to look—it was a dare to want.
Twitter was a constant stream of punchy one-liners and suggestive stunt reels. TikTok was a minefield of temptation—short, scorching loops of Emily arching against silk bedsheets, biting her lower lip in teasing slow-motion, her fingers tracing idle circles over the lace hem of lingerie before cutting to black. No laughter, no wasted movement—just a half-second of exposed thigh, the barest glimpse of teeth grazing skin, all set to a pulse-heavy soundtrack that left you craving another replay. Every clip was a dare wrapped in five seconds of sin.
OnlyFans
The icon made my fingers hesitate. Of course she had one. I tapped it—password already saved—and nearly choked.
$27K last month. $42K the month before. A catalog of paywalled galleries—Mistress in Marble, Bondage & Breakfast, each one featuring me now, in poses so sinful my pulse stuttered. There I was, sprawled across black satin sheets, fingers tangled in my own hair as I arched toward the camera, lips parted just enough to tease. Another series showed me kneeling in thigh-high stockings, the garter straps biting into creamy skin while I stared down the lens with heavy-lidded authority.
Subscriptions
Then came the subscriptions. Of course she had every premium streaming service—Netflix, HBO, the works—but the real fun started scrolling down. Paid access to high-end porn sites, all sleek branding and "exclusive content." A membership to Velvet Orbit, some kind of luxury erotic streaming platform with thumbnails featuring tangled limbs under silk sheets and promises of "real couples, real desires."
I was closing out of the accounts when I heard it—three sharp raps against the bedroom wall, followed by two slower ones. A pattern. Deliberate.
My breath caught. That wasn’t the front door.
Emily’s memories surfaced like fragments of a dream—pressed against this same wall, her fingers finding the nearly invisible seam in the wallpaper, pushing just so—
A hidden door clicked open.
I froze as the panel swung inward, revealing a narrow passage barely wide enough for shoulders. And there, leaning against the frame with a smirk that matched the one I’d worn earlier, stood me.
My old body looked different now. The way he held himself was all Emily; the cocky tilt of his chin, the way his fingers drummed a lazy rhythm against his thigh. His shirt hung open, revealing the chest I used to know every scar and freckle of.
“Miss me already?” His voice was mine, but the cadence, the purr—hers.
“You—” My throat tightened. I hadn’t realized how much taller I used to be until I had to look up at myself.
“Uh-uh.” He wagged a finger—my finger—and stepped inside, the hidden door whispering shut behind him. “Rule one of the curse: no take-backs.” His gaze dragged over me, lingering where the robe gaped at my chest. “Though I do like what I see.”
A flush burned up my neck. “This isn’t funny.”
“Oh, it’s hilarious.” He prowled closer, close enough that I caught my old cologne on his skin. “I was hoping you’d find the toys first.” His grin widened as my cheeks heated. “Oh, you did.”
I backed up until the vanity dug into my spine. “Why are you here?”
His grin turned wicked as he leaned in, close enough for his borrowed lips to brush my ear. "Because you will be my bride and help continue the line as per the second half of the curse."
A few years later
The pain was unbearable—a searing, primal fire tearing through me with every contraction. My nails dug into the hospital bed sheets, sweat gluing Emily’s—no, mine now—long black hair to my face.
"You’re doing amazing," he murmured, squeezing my hand. Even now, with my old face lined with worry, the way he tilted his head was pure Emily—that same confident smirk tempered by something softer. The silver band on his finger glinted under the harsh hospital lights, matching the one nestled securely against my own ring finger.
"Shut up," I gasped, arching off the bed as another wave hit. "This is your fault.*"
He just chuckled, brushing damp strands back from my forehead. "Our family now, sweetheart." His thumb traced my knuckles. "And trust me, when you hold her, you won’t regret a damn thing."
The nurse between my legs looked up, grinning. "One more push, Mom. She’s right there."
I barely had time to scream before the pressure shattered into sudden, dizzying relief. A fragile, furious wail filled the room, and then—
Her.
Tiny. Perfect. Swaddled in a pink blanket and placed carefully against my chest, her little face scrunched up in outrage. Dark lashes fluttered against petal-soft cheeks, her miniature fingers curling reflexively around mine.
"Congratulations," the nurse murmured. "She’s beautiful."
I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe. The weight of her was terrifying, intoxicating—mine.
"She has your nose," he whispered, bending to press a kiss to my temple. His—my old—calloused finger traced the baby’s shock of dark hair. "But your mother’s eyes." His voice cracked. "God, look at her."
The baby blinked up at us, her tiny mouth working silently before she settled with a sigh. The monitors beeped steadily, the world narrowing to this moment—this impossible, inevitable moment.
I leaned back against the pillows, exhausted, euphoric, and met my husband’s gaze.
"Worth it?" he teased, wiping a tear from my cheek with his thumb.
I clutched our daughter tighter—the next in the Lunawood line—and laughed through the tears.
body swap
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A father and his daughter rekindle their relationship.
There once was a time when my father and I were inseperable. My mother died when I was really young, so I barely even remember her. Looking at an old photo of her does not conjure any feelings of warmth or familiarity. It feels more like I’m looking at a stranger.
Ever since her death, my father has been raising me all by himself. He used to be a great dad; we basically did everything together. He also was super gentle, we were hugging and cuddling all the time. It was like we were superglued to each other. I especially loved the tickle fights we used to have when I was a child. By the end, my whole face would hurt from all the laughing.
But things changed around the time I hit puberty. Most of it was your usual teenage rebellion. Like every kid my age I wanted to establish an identity separate from my parent. So I dyed my naturally blonde hair pitch-black and really got into the goth scene. I just loved everything about it: the music, the aesthetic, and how perfectly it expressed my innermost feelings at the time. I started wearing black eyeliner, black nailpolish, black lipstick—the whole nine yards. I even wore chockers basically twenty-four seven. No more bright pink colors, no more “Daddy’s little girl”. I ran as far away from that as I possibly could.
This was also when my father started looking at me differently, which made me feel uneasy. And in response, I started looking at him differently. It seemed like he was not my rock anymore that I could hold onto when I felt most insecure. And as time went on he seemed to let himself go more and more. Maybe the grief of losing his wife, that he so bravely fought through initially, finally caught up to him. Eventually I came to see him as the normal, mortal man that he was. Gone was the halo surrounding the hero of my childhood. And gone was my knight in shiny armor protecting me from all the evil in the world.
During most of my teenage years my chest was really flat. I dressed as provocatively as I could, trying to show off what I didn’t have, as I felt that it went hand-in-hand with being a goth. But as I got older, I mellowed a bit on that whole thing, although I still like dyeing my hair black. Surprisingly, a year and a half ago I hit another growth spurt and my breasts basically exploded in size, so that now, at age nineteen, I have the full set of breasts that I wish I had when I was younger.
I still like to flaunt my assets when I am out partying with my friends, especially since I now have more to show for. I guess in some ways a part deep inside of me is still stuck in her teenage-rebellion phase. But at home I am all covered up. I only wear baggy clothes like sweaters and sweatpants, because I just do not want my father to see me like this. If his looks made me feel uneasy before, by now they started to creep me out.
The way he has been leering at me over the years has really soured our relationship, so much so that I loathe every second that I’m around him. He often complains that I’m always scowling at him, but at the same time he seems completely unaware of his own behavior. I long for the day when I am finally able to move out. I always wanted to be gone by the time I was eighteen, but I also wanted to go to college. Even though I am attending a local community college, it still cut into my savings. So I made the decision to just grin and bear it for a few more years.
Somehow all of these thoughts were swirling through my head, while I sat alone in my room, scrolling on my phone. Then there was a knock on my door. “What?” I yelled. “Claire Bear, sweety, it’s me.” Ugh, I hate it when he calls me that. “What do you want?” I said irritated. “Can you open up? I just wanna talk real quick.” Annoyed I stomped across my room.
“What is i—” As soon as I opened the door a waft of my father’s unwashed stench smacked me square in the face. The faint smell of a cheap cologne followed it like a bad aftertaste. When I looked up at his unshaven face, I saw his lips moving but I could only hear silence. Then the silence was pierced by a ringing in my ears and my mind turned cloudy. My eyes glazed over and I just stared blankly at my Dad.
Yes, my Dad. He was finally back. As I kept looking at him, the dirty old creep in front of me was slowly replaced with the shining image of my Daddy that I knew and loved growing up. Yes, my Daddy was finally back. My God, how I’ve missed him. He is finally all mine again. And I am all his. Pure bliss spread throughout my body as these thoughts filled my mind.
Somehow I seemed unable to move of my own accord, so Daddy guided me across the room. With a gentle push my lifeless body flopped onto the bed. I just laid there on my back, staring blankly at the ceiling. Then I felt my Daddy place his big, strong hands onto the swell of my breasts. He started kneading them through my thick sweater. My boobs felt like they were being tickled, but somehow different. Somehow better. It reminded me of the tickle fights we used to play. Oooh, I hope he is going to play tickle fight with me again. I would love that.
After some time of playing with my pliable mounds, Daddy slowly undressed me, beginning with my sweater and bra. When he pulled them off my arms just limply slumped back onto the bed. He then removed my sweatpants and panties, revealing that I was completely hairless. I hope he does not think that I am a naughty girl because of that. That would be terrible. I want to be a good girl for him. I want to make him proud.
Being handled by my Daddy like that made me feel so secure and relaxed. There was zero tension in my body. As he handled me this way and that way, my body simply lolled around like a doll. Yes, I would love to be Daddy’s precious little doll. Then he could dress me up all day long, just as he pleases. I would be his princess and he would only pay attention to me.
After he was done, I just laid there, naked, all for my Daddy to see. Even though I could only watch the ceiling, I could feel his eyes roaming all over my slim frame. Then he touched my bare skin, his hands gliding along my flat tummy. He soon found his way back to my boobs, squeezing them thoroughly, and even sucking on my rosy little nipples. I had been afraid that Daddy would not love me anymore now that I am a grown woman. But it made me happy to see that he still loved me after all those years.
Being loved by my Daddy like that made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I even felt all tingly down there. Somehow my Daddy noticed that, too, because he began to slowly rub me between my legs. All the excitement made me really slippery.
Suddenly, he got up. “No, Daddy,” I thought. “Don’t leave me. Please stay.” I was relieved when I felt him gently part my legs, which meant that he was still here.
Then—slowly—he … “Oh, yes, Daddy,” I cried inside my head. “I can feel you, Daddy. I can feel you inside of me.” Having Daddy show his love to me like that filled me with pure joy. Normally, I would have at least gasped or covered my eyes, but this time I simply laid there and did not make a noise. I wanted to show him my best behavior. He always taught me not to interrupt grown-ups when they are busy.
There was not even a single peep coming out of my mouth. My Daddy, though, made all sorts of funny noises. I guess showing your daughter how much you love her must be really tiring. But his hard work made me feel all good inside. And then my tummy felt really warm.
Poor Daddy, he must be really exhausted, because he collapsed right next to me. But even then he only seemed to think of me, because he gently caressed my face and played with my hair.
“Oh, Claire,” he sighed. “Why did you grow up so fast? And when did you become so mature? Where did my innocent little girl go?” “But I am right here, Daddy” I tried to say, but these words never escaped my lips. “I never left.” Maybe he cannot see that, because I’ve been such a terrible daughter to him. Alright, starting tomorrow I have to show Daddy that I am still a good girl.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
The next morning I felt great, like really well-rested. When I rummaged through my closet, looking for something to wear, I came across an old spaghetti strap top that I had not worn in ages. I actually had it since before my latest “growth spurt”, so it was just this tiny black thing. As I was holding it in my hands I felt the urge to just put it on.
Wearing it, I realized that it exposed my mid-riff, because there simply was not enough material to cover both my belly and my enormous chest. It clung so tightly to my body, it felt like I was wearing a second skin. I was stretching this little piece of fabric to its limit, it could have teared any moment. But somehow, wearing it felt just right.
I threw on a black pair of yoga pants and then gave myself a quick lookover in the mirror. I was all black, as usual. Except for my eyes, they were piercing blue. I always thought that they were the best part about myself. They even had a ring around the edge of my iris, which really made them pop.
Looking down I saw that my cleavage was on full display. That top really did not hide anything. I know I usually do not dress all that modestly, but damn, my boobs did look hot today. I bit my lip and gave the girls an appreciative squeeze. They were so soft and squishy that the flesh of my tits bulged out the second I ever so lightly pressed on them. Somehow I was getting a bit heated.
I managed to tear myself away from my boobs and turned around for a final inspection. Those yoga pants really showed off my tight little butt. It might not have been as big as my boobs, but it was still really cute.
I was all ready and set to attend my classes for the day, when, on my way out, I bumped into my Dad. “Hey, Dad,“ I said in a chipper mood. “Good morning, Claire Bear.” He looked me up and down and then gave me a strange smirk. “What?” I said with a quizzical look. “Do I have something on my face?” “No, it’s nothing,” he said shaking his head. “That was weird,” I thought. “It’s not like he hasn’t seen his own daughter before.” But at least he smelled better than usual.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
All day long people kept looking at me funny. In the past, I would not mind, but today it really bothered me. It reminded me of how my Dad used to look at me the last few years. Although I did not mind him this morning. Somehow I liked it. It made me feel reassured and confident. Like it did when I was a kid.
For the rest of the day I could not stop thinking about my Dad. I wondered why we ever grew apart. Maybe there was a way for us to reconnect. Maybe, if I took the first step and tried being nice to him, then we could start over again.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
In the evening I finally came home after a long, hard day of studying. Even though I wasn’t doing any physical labour, I still felt really grimy. I immediately hopped into a steaming hot show, where the water quickly washed away all my worries. I took my time lathering up as I enjoyed rinsing every nook and cranny of my body, giving it a nice, slick coat of soapy water.
Suddenly, someone ripped the shower curtain open. There stood my Dad, butt-naked and with a huge grin on his face. I instinctively covered my chest and my privates. I was about to scream when there was this ringing in my ears again. My arms dropped to my sides and dangled there limply. Why was I getting so upset? It is perfectly normal for my Daddy to see me naked. I mean, he has seen me like that since the day I was born. Also, there was nothing wrong for a daughter to see her father like that either, especially if he was as handsome as mine. Somehow, like yesterday, I could not move or say anything. It must have been because I was filled with so much joy seing my Daddy. I felt like a doll again. My Daddy’s doll.
He got in the shower with me and closed the curtains. When he embraced me, my boobs squished against his manly chest. I could feel his big, strong hands roaming all over my butt, firmly squeezing my cheeks. And then, as he kissed me tenderly, I melted in his arms. I was all his.
When my knees started to get weak, my Daddy turned me around, gave me a big hug from behind, and began kissing my neck. He felt so big as he was pressing into my backside. My Daddy must be the biggest in the whole wide world.
His hands struggled to get a hold of my slippery breasts. Every time he tried to squeeze them too tightly they escaped his grasp like two greasy little piggies.
He then bent me over, grabbed my hips, and made us become one again. With his strong grip around my wrists he started to show how much he loved me. My boobs jiggled wildly to the rhythm of our love. I never knew how much I love being used by my Daddy, like I was his own little toy.
Like yesterday, he made some funny grunting noises and then I could feel his love spread deep inside of me. At that moment I knew that we were going to be fine, that I could finally trust my Daddy again.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
For the next couple of weeks college was kicking my ass. My hair even started showing my blonde roots, since I did not have the time to dye them. Besides, I somehow felt like going back to my natural hair color, anyway. I spent all my time either at college, at home studying, or spending time with my Dad. We somehow slowly rekindled our relationship, even going so far as to hug or kiss each other on the cheek practically every day. Every time I left the house I made sure to tell him that I loved him. And he always told me that he loved me as well. I felt really blessed that we were back to our old ways.
One weekend I was still up late at night studying in my PJs. Well, calling it PJs was a bit much. It was actually just a tight, short-sleeve shirt and a pair of hot pants. I had to prepare for an upcoming test, although I had a hard time concentrating. There was a huge thunderstorm raging outside, which made me feel really queasy. It reminded me of the day my mother died.
Eventually, I decided to call it quits, since I could not keep my thoughts straight. I did not want to be alone at that moment, so I got up and sought out some company. Wandering through the house I found my Dad sitting on the living room couch, watching TV.
“D-Dad,” I said timidly. “Do you mind if I sit with you for a bit?” “Sure, sweety,” he said patting the place right next to him. “Make yourself comfortable.” I sat down, hugging my legs and resting my chin on my knees.
We spent a while just silently sitting next to each other. The TV barely covered the sound of the weather. Suddenly, a lightning strike lit up the entire living room, and then the power went out. A second later the deafening sound of thunder came crashing down on my ears. I cowered at the noise. Instinctively I threw myself against my Dad, tightly wrapping my arms around his waist. I nuzzled my face against his chest as I whimpered with fear. In response, he gave me a firm hug.
“There, there,” he whispered reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Daddy is here for you.” He gently stroked my head with one hand, while the other slowly found its way onto my butt. His manly smell was so intoxicating. I could even feel my nipples poking through my shirt. He must have felt it, too.
His hand slowly slid up along the side of my body until it reached my chest. Arriving there he cupped one off my boobs and gave it a gentle squeeze. “D-Dad, w-what are you doing?” I whimpered. “Ssshhhh, relax, Claire. Daddy, is going to make you feel all better.” I looked up at him with my big doe-eyes and nodded silently, my vision blurry from my tears. He gently laid me down onto the couch. Then he kissed me while at the same time fondling my chest.
He took a short break from kissing me to take off my shirt. I helped him along by lifting my arms. And while he hastily took off his own clothes, I slowly removed my tiny pair of pants. I really enjoyed how they were gliding along my smooth legs.
There we were. Just a father and his daughter. Naked as the day they were born. I blushed because of the way my Daddy looked at me. With just his eyes he told me how much he loved and wanted me. And I responded in kind, telling him how much I needed him. Inside of me.
I yelped, when, without a warning, he grabbed my waist and threw me around the couch. His display of strength and dominance made me ooze instantly. I landed face-first on the couch with my butt sticking up high in the air. Then he firmly grabbed my hips. I gasped as I felt him insert his thick meat into my creamy hole.
With every thrust my face smushed further and further into the cushions. It felt like his enormous girth was splitting me in half. Feeling him pump inside of me was the most intensly magical sensation I had ever felt in my life. It was so overwhelming, I almost blacked out.
“Oh, yes. Daddy!” I screamed. “Harder! Harder!”. My exclamation must have sent him over the edge, as I first felt a pulse rushing through his errection and then he suddenly exploded, coating my insides with his sticky goo. My body responded with several shockwaves, making me tremble and roar with pleasure. I clamped down on him, milking his shaft for every drop of his seed. My greedy hole made sure to swallow it all, being careful not to spill any of it.
For a while, we just laid there, sweaty and out of breath. After recovering a bit, I snuggled up against him so that his strong arms could embrace me. Then we shared a deep, loving kiss. At that moment I never wanted to be separated from my Daddy ever again.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Over the last several months the relationship between me and my Daddy has gotten better than I could have ever imagined. We now show how much we love each other every day so that we will never grow apart again. And that ringing that I used to hear almost every time we made love is now completely gone.
I am even back to my natural hair color. Although I had to cut it a bit short to get rid of all the residual dye. Which is a bummer since I love it when he pulls on my pigtails.
We are just like we were back when I was a kid. Except: we are much closer now. Closer than we ever had been before. Closer than any father and daughter ever will be. But one thing will never change: I will always be my Daddy’s girl … until the end.
There once was a time when my father and I were inseperable. My mother died when I was really young, so I barely even remember her. Looking at an old photo of her does not conjure any feelings of warmth or familiarity. It feels more like I’m looking at a stranger.
Ever since her death, my father has been raising me all by himself. He used to be a great dad; we basically did everything together. He also was super gentle, we were hugging and cuddling all the time. It was like we were superglued to each other. I especially loved the tickle fights we used to have when I was a child. By the end, my whole face would hurt from all the laughing.
But things changed around the time I hit puberty. Most of it was your usual teenage rebellion. Like every kid my age I wanted to establish an identity separate from my parent. So I dyed my naturally blonde hair pitch-black and really got into the goth scene. I just loved everything about it: the music, the aesthetic, and how perfectly it expressed my innermost feelings at the time. I started wearing black eyeliner, black nailpolish, black lipstick—the whole nine yards. I even wore chockers basically twenty-four seven. No more bright pink colors, no more “Daddy’s little girl”. I ran as far away from that as I possibly could.
This was also when my father started looking at me differently, which made me feel uneasy. And in response, I started looking at him differently. It seemed like he was not my rock anymore that I could hold onto when I felt most insecure. And as time went on he seemed to let himself go more and more. Maybe the grief of losing his wife, that he so bravely fought through initially, finally caught up to him. Eventually I came to see him as the normal, mortal man that he was. Gone was the halo surrounding the hero of my childhood. And gone was my knight in shiny armor protecting me from all the evil in the world.
During most of my teenage years my chest was really flat. I dressed as provocatively as I could, trying to show off what I didn’t have, as I felt that it went hand-in-hand with being a goth. But as I got older, I mellowed a bit on that whole thing, although I still like dyeing my hair black. Surprisingly, a year and a half ago I hit another growth spurt and my breasts basically exploded in size, so that now, at age nineteen, I have the full set of breasts that I wish I had when I was younger.
I still like to flaunt my assets when I am out partying with my friends, especially since I now have more to show for. I guess in some ways a part deep inside of me is still stuck in her teenage-rebellion phase. But at home I am all covered up. I only wear baggy clothes like sweaters and sweatpants, because I just do not want my father to see me like this. If his looks made me feel uneasy before, by now they started to creep me out.
The way he has been leering at me over the years has really soured our relationship, so much so that I loathe every second that I’m around him. He often complains that I’m always scowling at him, but at the same time he seems completely unaware of his own behavior. I long for the day when I am finally able to move out. I always wanted to be gone by the time I was eighteen, but I also wanted to go to college. Even though I am attending a local community college, it still cut into my savings. So I made the decision to just grin and bear it for a few more years.
Somehow all of these thoughts were swirling through my head, while I sat alone in my room, scrolling on my phone. Then there was a knock on my door. “What?” I yelled. “Claire Bear, sweety, it’s me.” Ugh, I hate it when he calls me that. “What do you want?” I said irritated. “Can you open up? I just wanna talk real quick.” Annoyed I stomped across my room.
“What is i—” As soon as I opened the door a waft of my father’s unwashed stench smacked me square in the face. The faint smell of a cheap cologne followed it like a bad aftertaste. When I looked up at his unshaven face, I saw his lips moving but I could only hear silence. Then the silence was pierced by a ringing in my ears and my mind turned cloudy. My eyes glazed over and I just stared blankly at my Dad.
Yes, my Dad. He was finally back. As I kept looking at him, the dirty old creep in front of me was slowly replaced with the shining image of my Daddy that I knew and loved growing up. Yes, my Daddy was finally back. My God, how I’ve missed him. He is finally all mine again. And I am all his. Pure bliss spread throughout my body as these thoughts filled my mind.
Somehow I seemed unable to move of my own accord, so Daddy guided me across the room. With a gentle push my lifeless body flopped onto the bed. I just laid there on my back, staring blankly at the ceiling. Then I felt my Daddy place his big, strong hands onto the swell of my breasts. He started kneading them through my thick sweater. My boobs felt like they were being tickled, but somehow different. Somehow better. It reminded me of the tickle fights we used to play. Oooh, I hope he is going to play tickle fight with me again. I would love that.
After some time of playing with my pliable mounds, Daddy slowly undressed me, beginning with my sweater and bra. When he pulled them off my arms just limply slumped back onto the bed. He then removed my sweatpants and panties, revealing that I was completely hairless. I hope he does not think that I am a naughty girl because of that. That would be terrible. I want to be a good girl for him. I want to make him proud.
Being handled by my Daddy like that made me feel so secure and relaxed. There was zero tension in my body. As he handled me this way and that way, my body simply lolled around like a doll. Yes, I would love to be Daddy’s precious little doll. Then he could dress me up all day long, just as he pleases. I would be his princess and he would only pay attention to me.
After he was done, I just laid there, naked, all for my Daddy to see. Even though I could only watch the ceiling, I could feel his eyes roaming all over my slim frame. Then he touched my bare skin, his hands gliding along my flat tummy. He soon found his way back to my boobs, squeezing them thoroughly, and even sucking on my rosy little nipples. I had been afraid that Daddy would not love me anymore now that I am a grown woman. But it made me happy to see that he still loved me after all those years.
Being loved by my Daddy like that made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I even felt all tingly down there. Somehow my Daddy noticed that, too, because he began to slowly rub me between my legs. All the excitement made me really slippery.
Suddenly, he got up. “No, Daddy,” I thought. “Don’t leave me. Please stay.” I was relieved when I felt him gently part my legs, which meant that he was still here.
Then—slowly—he … “Oh, yes, Daddy,” I cried inside my head. “I can feel you, Daddy. I can feel you inside of me.” Having Daddy show his love to me like that filled me with pure joy. Normally, I would have at least gasped or covered my eyes, but this time I simply laid there and did not make a noise. I wanted to show him my best behavior. He always taught me not to interrupt grown-ups when they are busy.
There was not even a single peep coming out of my mouth. My Daddy, though, made all sorts of funny noises. I guess showing your daughter how much you love her must be really tiring. But his hard work made me feel all good inside. And then my tummy felt really warm.
Poor Daddy, he must be really exhausted, because he collapsed right next to me. But even then he only seemed to think of me, because he gently caressed my face and played with my hair.
“Oh, Claire,” he sighed. “Why did you grow up so fast? And when did you become so mature? Where did my innocent little girl go?” “But I am right here, Daddy” I tried to say, but these words never escaped my lips. “I never left.” Maybe he cannot see that, because I’ve been such a terrible daughter to him. Alright, starting tomorrow I have to show Daddy that I am still a good girl.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
The next morning I felt great, like really well-rested. When I rummaged through my closet, looking for something to wear, I came across an old spaghetti strap top that I had not worn in ages. I actually had it since before my latest “growth spurt”, so it was just this tiny black thing. As I was holding it in my hands I felt the urge to just put it on.
Wearing it, I realized that it exposed my mid-riff, because there simply was not enough material to cover both my belly and my enormous chest. It clung so tightly to my body, it felt like I was wearing a second skin. I was stretching this little piece of fabric to its limit, it could have teared any moment. But somehow, wearing it felt just right.
I threw on a black pair of yoga pants and then gave myself a quick lookover in the mirror. I was all black, as usual. Except for my eyes, they were piercing blue. I always thought that they were the best part about myself. They even had a ring around the edge of my iris, which really made them pop.
Looking down I saw that my cleavage was on full display. That top really did not hide anything. I know I usually do not dress all that modestly, but damn, my boobs did look hot today. I bit my lip and gave the girls an appreciative squeeze. They were so soft and squishy that the flesh of my tits bulged out the second I ever so lightly pressed on them. Somehow I was getting a bit heated.
I managed to tear myself away from my boobs and turned around for a final inspection. Those yoga pants really showed off my tight little butt. It might not have been as big as my boobs, but it was still really cute.
I was all ready and set to attend my classes for the day, when, on my way out, I bumped into my Dad. “Hey, Dad,“ I said in a chipper mood. “Good morning, Claire Bear.” He looked me up and down and then gave me a strange smirk. “What?” I said with a quizzical look. “Do I have something on my face?” “No, it’s nothing,” he said shaking his head. “That was weird,” I thought. “It’s not like he hasn’t seen his own daughter before.” But at least he smelled better than usual.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
All day long people kept looking at me funny. In the past, I would not mind, but today it really bothered me. It reminded me of how my Dad used to look at me the last few years. Although I did not mind him this morning. Somehow I liked it. It made me feel reassured and confident. Like it did when I was a kid.
For the rest of the day I could not stop thinking about my Dad. I wondered why we ever grew apart. Maybe there was a way for us to reconnect. Maybe, if I took the first step and tried being nice to him, then we could start over again.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
In the evening I finally came home after a long, hard day of studying. Even though I wasn’t doing any physical labour, I still felt really grimy. I immediately hopped into a steaming hot show, where the water quickly washed away all my worries. I took my time lathering up as I enjoyed rinsing every nook and cranny of my body, giving it a nice, slick coat of soapy water.
Suddenly, someone ripped the shower curtain open. There stood my Dad, butt-naked and with a huge grin on his face. I instinctively covered my chest and my privates. I was about to scream when there was this ringing in my ears again. My arms dropped to my sides and dangled there limply. Why was I getting so upset? It is perfectly normal for my Daddy to see me naked. I mean, he has seen me like that since the day I was born. Also, there was nothing wrong for a daughter to see her father like that either, especially if he was as handsome as mine. Somehow, like yesterday, I could not move or say anything. It must have been because I was filled with so much joy seing my Daddy. I felt like a doll again. My Daddy’s doll.
He got in the shower with me and closed the curtains. When he embraced me, my boobs squished against his manly chest. I could feel his big, strong hands roaming all over my butt, firmly squeezing my cheeks. And then, as he kissed me tenderly, I melted in his arms. I was all his.
When my knees started to get weak, my Daddy turned me around, gave me a big hug from behind, and began kissing my neck. He felt so big as he was pressing into my backside. My Daddy must be the biggest in the whole wide world.
His hands struggled to get a hold of my slippery breasts. Every time he tried to squeeze them too tightly they escaped his grasp like two greasy little piggies.
He then bent me over, grabbed my hips, and made us become one again. With his strong grip around my wrists he started to show how much he loved me. My boobs jiggled wildly to the rhythm of our love. I never knew how much I love being used by my Daddy, like I was his own little toy.
Like yesterday, he made some funny grunting noises and then I could feel his love spread deep inside of me. At that moment I knew that we were going to be fine, that I could finally trust my Daddy again.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
For the next couple of weeks college was kicking my ass. My hair even started showing my blonde roots, since I did not have the time to dye them. Besides, I somehow felt like going back to my natural hair color, anyway. I spent all my time either at college, at home studying, or spending time with my Dad. We somehow slowly rekindled our relationship, even going so far as to hug or kiss each other on the cheek practically every day. Every time I left the house I made sure to tell him that I loved him. And he always told me that he loved me as well. I felt really blessed that we were back to our old ways.
One weekend I was still up late at night studying in my PJs. Well, calling it PJs was a bit much. It was actually just a tight, short-sleeve shirt and a pair of hot pants. I had to prepare for an upcoming test, although I had a hard time concentrating. There was a huge thunderstorm raging outside, which made me feel really queasy. It reminded me of the day my mother died.
Eventually, I decided to call it quits, since I could not keep my thoughts straight. I did not want to be alone at that moment, so I got up and sought out some company. Wandering through the house I found my Dad sitting on the living room couch, watching TV.
“D-Dad,” I said timidly. “Do you mind if I sit with you for a bit?” “Sure, sweety,” he said patting the place right next to him. “Make yourself comfortable.” I sat down, hugging my legs and resting my chin on my knees.
We spent a while just silently sitting next to each other. The TV barely covered the sound of the weather. Suddenly, a lightning strike lit up the entire living room, and then the power went out. A second later the deafening sound of thunder came crashing down on my ears. I cowered at the noise. Instinctively I threw myself against my Dad, tightly wrapping my arms around his waist. I nuzzled my face against his chest as I whimpered with fear. In response, he gave me a firm hug.
“There, there,” he whispered reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Daddy is here for you.” He gently stroked my head with one hand, while the other slowly found its way onto my butt. His manly smell was so intoxicating. I could even feel my nipples poking through my shirt. He must have felt it, too.
His hand slowly slid up along the side of my body until it reached my chest. Arriving there he cupped one off my boobs and gave it a gentle squeeze. “D-Dad, w-what are you doing?” I whimpered. “Ssshhhh, relax, Claire. Daddy, is going to make you feel all better.” I looked up at him with my big doe-eyes and nodded silently, my vision blurry from my tears. He gently laid me down onto the couch. Then he kissed me while at the same time fondling my chest.
He took a short break from kissing me to take off my shirt. I helped him along by lifting my arms. And while he hastily took off his own clothes, I slowly removed my tiny pair of pants. I really enjoyed how they were gliding along my smooth legs.
There we were. Just a father and his daughter. Naked as the day they were born. I blushed because of the way my Daddy looked at me. With just his eyes he told me how much he loved and wanted me. And I responded in kind, telling him how much I needed him. Inside of me.
I yelped, when, without a warning, he grabbed my waist and threw me around the couch. His display of strength and dominance made me ooze instantly. I landed face-first on the couch with my butt sticking up high in the air. Then he firmly grabbed my hips. I gasped as I felt him insert his thick meat into my creamy hole.
With every thrust my face smushed further and further into the cushions. It felt like his enormous girth was splitting me in half. Feeling him pump inside of me was the most intensly magical sensation I had ever felt in my life. It was so overwhelming, I almost blacked out.
“Oh, yes. Daddy!” I screamed. “Harder! Harder!”. My exclamation must have sent him over the edge, as I first felt a pulse rushing through his errection and then he suddenly exploded, coating my insides with his sticky goo. My body responded with several shockwaves, making me tremble and roar with pleasure. I clamped down on him, milking his shaft for every drop of his seed. My greedy hole made sure to swallow it all, being careful not to spill any of it.
For a while, we just laid there, sweaty and out of breath. After recovering a bit, I snuggled up against him so that his strong arms could embrace me. Then we shared a deep, loving kiss. At that moment I never wanted to be separated from my Daddy ever again.
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Over the last several months the relationship between me and my Daddy has gotten better than I could have ever imagined. We now show how much we love each other every day so that we will never grow apart again. And that ringing that I used to hear almost every time we made love is now completely gone.
I am even back to my natural hair color. Although I had to cut it a bit short to get rid of all the residual dye. Which is a bummer since I love it when he pulls on my pigtails.
We are just like we were back when I was a kid. Except: we are much closer now. Closer than we ever had been before. Closer than any father and daughter ever will be. But one thing will never change: I will always be my Daddy’s girl … until the end.
mind control
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A story about a reverse body hopper and her family.
Katelyn
My family sucks. I do love them, but sometimes they just suck. Thanks to them my life is usually a total mess. You see, I’m a reverse body hopper. What that means is, my family can possess my body so long as they collide with me at a high enough velocity. I then black out completely and wake up again whenever they decide to leave. Thank God this only works with my family and not with total strangers or my life would be over.
They constantly just take my body, and even when they ask they just keep begging and pleading until I finally give in. Well, the only exception is my Dad. He is just the greatest. He’s never even asked to take over my body. In fact, I’ve asked him to hop me before. He would often take over for me when I was sick or when my period was really bad. He’s the only one I can trust to take care of me and respect my body.
I mean, despite how that all sounds, they do love me, I know they do. That’s why they always try to make it up to me, by buying me gifts or doing stuff for me, like chores and my homework, or hitting the gym. I just wish I could spend some time around my family in peace and simply enjoy their company.
When I talk to my friends about it they make a way big of a deal out of it. It’s not like I feel violated or anything, more like just tired and annoyed. I’m probably just so used to it, even though I shouldn’t be, because it’s been going on for so long, longer that I can even remember. Sometimes it makes me feel like public property, like a shared family car that everyone wants to take for a ride. I can’t even imagine the countless amount of hours of my life that I lost to them.
But I guess it’s gotten better since I moved out, simply for the fact that I’m now out of their reach. Although that still doesn’t stop them from asking if they could borrow “me” for a while. Well, at least it’s easier to say “no” over the phone or via text. And as an added bonus, I don’t have to take the pill anymore. I never liked taking it as it messes with my hormones too much. I only took it as a safety precaution so that my family couldn’t do anything too stupid while they were inside of me.
Actually, it’s been a while since I visited my family, ’cause I’ve been so busy at work. I haven’t met all of them yet, since I arrived at my parent’s house very late last night. So far, I’ve only got to meet Mom and Dad. Maybe I’ll see Robby and Chloe at breakfast or whenever they decide to get up.
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Waking up from my daydream, I realized that I had been in the shower for way too long. I turned off the water, reached for my towel, and began drying myself off. I always hated that part, because it made me miss the bliss and warmth of the hot water. Afterwards I got out of the shower and wrapped the towel tightly around my body. Then I stepped into hallway, closed the door behind myself and—
Robert
“Hihi. Welcome home, ‘sis’”, I giggled in my sister’s voice. I quickly flitted off to her room and tightly locked the door behind me. I immediately dropped the towel that “I” was wearing, revealing my older sister’s body in all her naked glory. “Oh, ‘Katy’. You can’t imagine how much I missed ‘you’”, I said, giving “myself” a big hug, squishing my sister’s enormous chest in the process.
I sauntered over to Katy’s full-length mirror, enjoying the sway of her hips with every step. I thoroughly looked her over from head to toe. Her body was simply perfect. Especially her boobs. “Man, I just love your huge rack,“ I told my “sister” while giving her giant globes a firm squeeze. I just couldn’t help myself.
It’s not like I have the hots for my sister. To me, her mind and her body are two separate things. It’s just an unfortunate coincidence that she happened to be a reverse body hopper. I mean, I don’t have a thing for my younger sister or my mom. But then again, neither of them are reverse hoppers.
By now, I’ve hopped my sister so often, that to me it doesn’t really feel like I’m wearing her body. It just feels like I’m being me—a different me. I’ve hopped her since I was a child, even before I hit puberty. The first time was a total accident, and back then she found it cute and adorable, maybe because I was, and also because she was always pretty motherly towards me; she’s my older sister after all. But ever since we, especially I, hit puberty, she disliked me hopping her more and more.
I guess it was bad timing that I discovered her ability when I did, which is probably the reason why I am attracted to her body. In a way you could say that we developed alongside each other, even though she had a two-year headstart. I mean, not many people get to experience growing up both as a boy and a girl, and in more than one way I am thankful for that. Because of her I know what it feels like to become a woman and I think that made us closer than any other siblings. Over the years, I got to experience the swelling of her breasts and the widening of her hips, among other things. And I always loved how her body felt so much softer. Maybe I was secretly envious of that, or maybe I just enjoyed the feeling, I don’t even know.
Nevertheless, I’m a guy afterall and as a hormonal teenager I took advantage of that unique opportunity every way I could. My sister is the reason why, so far, I’ve only dated girls who are slightly older than me. I hopped her way more often than she even knows. There were times when I would sneak into her bedroom almost every. Thankfully, now that I’m older and in college, I have myself much better under control. Although it’s still hard to resist hopping her sometimes. But then again, that whole experience really taught me how to please a woman.
I’m ashamed to admit it, but a few weeks ago I even had sex with her when our little sister was wearing her. I just couldn’t help myself. The combination of my preexisting attraction to her body and my little sister coming on to me was simply too much for me not to give in. To this day, it was still the best sex I ever had. Sometimes, when the sex with a girlfriend gets a little boring, I imagine my sister in her place, which always perks me up again. One time I even accidentally said her name, which was the end of that relationship.
By now, “I” was already dripping wet as I had been rubbing “my” crotch and massaging “my” breasts the whole time I stood in front of the mirror. Feeling that my knees were getting weak, I hurried over and threw myself onto Katy’s bed. There I really went at it by reaching deep inside of my sister’s hole and groping her boobs and tweaking her nipples. I planned on giving her a warm welcome-home present, so I kept frantically sloshing two of her fingers in and out of her dripping wet cunt. After a few minutes of expert stimulation, I felt that her body was on the cusp of an orgasm and abruptly jumped out of her.
Katelyn
Like so many times before, I suddenly woke up in my room. I was lying on my bed, one hand clutching my breast, the other burried inside of me, the latter keept penetrating me, seemingly all on its own. Without a warning, a wave of pleasure hit me. A warm tingling bloomed between my legs and then ratiated outwards, coursing through my entire body. It all happened so fast, I couldn’t stop myself from letting out a long, high-pitched moan. The sudden and intense pleasure made me squirt so much, I soiled both my hand and my bedsheets.
“Welcome home, sis,” my brother laughed with a big, dirty grin plastered across his face. “Robby, you asshole!” I yelled at him. As I pulled my hand from my vagina, strings of the gooey slime that coated my fingers followed it. “Ew, you’re such a disgusting pig.” “Why? Don’t you like your ‘present’?” he asked while he made a run for the door. “You could’ve at least cleaned up after yourself,” I tried to call after him, but he had already fled my room. “Great. Now I have to take another shower.”
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All clean again, I joined my parents at the breakfast table. The table was overflowing with food as my Mom had really gone all out to celebrate my long-awaited return home. “Did you sleep well, honey?” my mother asked. “Oh, yes, fantastic. It felt really great to sleep in my old bed again,” I said while I loaded my plate with waffles and fruits. “What was all that ruckus about earlier?” my father grumbled. “Just Robby being the prick that he usually is.” “Hmpf. I guess I need to have a word with him later.”
“Katyyyyy!” I heard my little sister yell as she ran towards me. I hadn’t even managed to get the first bite of my breakfast when she already gave me a big hug. “Oh, you don’t know how much I missed you, sis!” “Did you really miss me or just my body?” I retorted. “Of course I missed you, silly. You’re my favorite sister.” “I’m your only sister,” I interjected. “Right. But since you brought it up: can I borrow ‘you’ today? Just for this morning, I promise. It’s been way too long since the last time.”
“Leave your sister alone, Chloe,” my Dad commanded. “You’ll make her feel not welcome in her own home. No wonder she is hardly here.” “Oh, she doesn’t mind, Daddy. Right sis?” she said, looking at me with her huge puppy dog eyes. “Yes, I do.” “Come on, Katy. Please? Just for a little bit!” “No,” I responded flatly. “Pleeeeeaaaase. I’ll even go to the gym for you. Remember how much you hate doing that?” “No, I don’t. You’re just making shit up. But, hmm, well. It’s been forever since I had any form of exercise. Work kept me really busy lately,” I pondered aloud. “Pretty please?” she said pouting her lips. “Ugh, fine, I guess,” I reletend. Chloe squealed in response.
“Sweety,” my Mom interjected timidly. “I’m sorry, this might be bad timing and come off as rude, but would you mind if tonight—”. “Yes, yes, it’s fine,” I interrupted her annoyed. “You can all ‘borrow’ my body. But get it out of your systems today, ’cause there will be no hopping tomorrow! I—”
Chloe
“Chloe!” my Mom scolded me. “You could have at least let your sister eat breakfast herself,”. “But Moooom,” I whined in my older sister’s voice. “You heard her. She said it was okay.” I wolfed down my sister’s breakfast as fast as I could and then raced up the stairs and into Katy’s room, leaving my speechless parents behind.
Finally behind closed doors I began rubbing my sister’s flat belly. I loved doing that so much, her pussy always immediately begins to tingle in response. Unfortunately, I wasn’t as blessed in the looks departement as my older sister was. As far back as I can remember I have been chubby. And with each year, it’s gotten worse. I can’t seem to lose weight, no matter what I try. Which makes me feel jealous of her sometimes, even though I know that it isn’t her fault.
In contrast to mine, her body is really slim and always feels so light and full of energy. It even makes going to the gym a lot of fun. In my own body it is just pure torture. And the reactions I get from other people are just so different. When I’m her, people seem to adore me, but when I’m myself, they seem to despise me. Even though I’m the same person; only my looks change.
That’s the main reason why I’ve been hopping her since I was little. Also, being in her body always made me feel so mature and grown-up. I always felt especially proud when I was wearing her big boobs. I loved showing them off and catching someone trying to secretly glance at them (or sometimes even outright staring). Back then they seemed enormous, especially compared to, what I considered, my own underdeveloped body. In hindsight, when I look at them now in old photos, they don’t seem that big. Sure, they were bigger than those of other girls her age, but still, nothing compared to what she sports now.
At that time, three years simply seemed like such a huge gap, and I guess I was simply too imature. She was always just way ahead of me and I felt I could never catch up to her, even though to an actual adult she might have still looked like a child and not that much different from me.
Seducing guys as my sister is my favorite thing to do, especially since they won’t even look at me in my own body. It always gives me such a thrill. Seeing them squirm and try to impress me, just for me to ultimately blow them off anyway is so incredibly delicious. If they only could see the fat, ugly girl they were actually hitting on—their faces would be priceless.
A couple of weeks ago I even got my own brother in the sack. I’m not attracted to him per se, but there is something about the challenge of seducing someone who shouldn’t even be looking at you like. It was just irresistible to me. The greatest challenge yet would be fucking my Dad, but he’s way to old and even thinking about that is just yuck.
In the end though, seducing my brother turned out to be not too difficult, since he had been hopping our sister all the time anyway. That was a bit of a let-down, but the sex was still amazing. He really knows his way around a woman’s body, or at least Katy’s.
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An hour later I arrived at the gym. I was wearing an outfit that I had bought just for my sister’s body. She refused to wear it herself since she always found it too revealing, but well, nothing she can do about it while I’m in charge. I mean, I have to admit, it’s basically just a sports bra that shows off her huge tits and exposes her toned midriff, paired with an incredibly tight pair of yoga pants. I especially love how far these pants are riding up inbetween her butt cheeks. Her ass is practically devouring them.
The moment I stepped into the building I had all he meatheads gawking at me. And who could blame them, when I’m always giving them a reason to, making sure to give them a show in my sister’s body. I guess they must have missed her as much as I did, since I used to be a regular in this gym before my sister moved out.
I started with my usual warm up routine. Every couple of minutes some jock would come up to me, trying to hit on me under the guise of “just giving advice”. I always initially flirt with them, even play a little dumb, only to then crush their feeble little egos by demonstrating how much more I knew about working out than them. Then I blow them off by making it crystal clear that their tiny, roided up dicks will never even get a whiff of my sister’s pussy. They always call me a bitch or a whore, or some other name, but eventually they all walk off deflated since they know that the security around here is pretty tight.
After I was finished with the “entrée”, I began serving the “main course”: squats to show off my sister’s firm ass (with a pair of tits on the side). Considering how much work I put into her booty over the years, I think by now half of it should be legally mine. Well, at least enough to call it “mine”.
By now, more and more guys came to approach me, sometimes even two of them at once. It was so hot seeing them fight over me. I even caught some guys filming me in the reflection of the of the mirror. Meanwhile, I kept teasing them and riling them up, all while having the plausible deniability of “working out“. Even though I was drenched in sweat from all the exertion, it wasn’t responsible for all the wetness on my body, at least not the one inbetween my legs.
I blew off the last guy buzzing around me and started putting away the weights in preparation to go home after a successful “workout”. As my gaze casually travelled around, not looking for anything in particular, my eyes suddenly honed in on what I then decided would become my “dessert”. I undid my ponytail, letting my sweat-drenched hair loose. While I sneaked up on my prey, I seductively swayed my hips, exuding confidence with ever step, and making “my” tits jiggle just the right amount. Over the years I had carefully cultivated and honed the skills to perfectly show of my sister’s body to the fullest. Unfortunately, these skills didn’t transfer to my own body, for obvious reasons.
I licked my luscious lips in anticipation as I came closer and closer to my target: a pale, scrawny, hairless nerd with thick glasses. You might wonder what a hot girl like “me” is doing approaching a “loser” like that. Well, let’s just say I have a thing for nerds. And also, I’m already very familiar with this particular geek. His name is Mark and he actually is in one of my college classes, but so far I didn’t have the confidence to approach him in my own body. In my sister’s body, on the other hand, I practically had an overabundance of it.
He was oblivious to my encroaching presence as he seemed preoccupied with his struggle to lift even the lightest of weights. When he realized that I was approaching him he looked befuddled and just stared at me like a deer in headlights.
“Hey, stud,” I said in a raspy whisper. “I’ve never seen you around here. Do you come here often?” “N-N-No,” he stammered. “I-I j-just started w-w-working out.” God, I love when people get nervous like that. It gets me all wet. Especially when they blush like that. “Oh, really? A hunk like you? Then where did you get these strong arms from?” I said while caressing his bicep—or rather, lack thereof. “A-Are you making fun of me?” “No, of course not,” I laughed, lightly slapping his feeble chest.
To get him on my good side again, I pulled out one of my favorite routines. I intentionally dropped something and then went, “Oopsie. I can really be such a klutz sometimes.” I made a show of it by clearly stepping in front of him, turning around, and then bending over.
For the cherry on top I pushed my ass against his crotch. The second our bodies touched, I could immediately tell how hard he was already. He tried to move away, but I just pushed even deeper into him. For good measure I began grinding against his member, eliciting a moan from him. When I got up I could see that his face was a deep crimson.
From afar I could hear a few men cursing and jeering, wondering why such a “hot chick” was grinding up against such a “pathetic little dweeb” like him. I could barely hide the devilish grin that appeared on “my” face. I stepped closer, pushed his tiny noodle of an arm inbetween my sister’s giant tits, and whispered in his ear, “it seems we have an audience. Would you prefer taking this somewhere private?” Unable to respond, all he could muster was to swallow hard. “I’ll take that as a yes,“ I said giving him a wink. Then I dragged him off to the locker rooms.
On the way over there he made a pathetic attempt at a protest, but even if he had tried to resist earnestly, I was still stronger than him. Finally arriving at our destination, I pushed him into one of the women’s changing rooms and locked the door behind us. This space was so tiny, we could almost feel our steamy breaths on each other’s skin. We were both reeking of sweat.
I pushed my chest out and looked at him expectantly, but he just stood there doing nothing. It was so cute how I had to coax him into everything. I took charge and, with determination, pulled up my sports bra, flopping out my sister’s huge rack. Yet, he still wouldn’t move. Even when I physically placed his hands onto my chest he acted like a dead fish.
“Come on. Play with them,” I commanded. “I want you to.” But still: nothing. Then I firmly grabbed his crotch, which finally seemed to wake him up. “I-I’m sorry. This is my first time,” he said bashfully while he began to clumsily fondle my boobs. It felt a lot like masturbating with your other hand. He was so adorable, which got me insanely hot.
While he kept playing with my Katy’s tits I began rubbing her pussy. At one point he even felt adventurous enough to tweak her nipples, which sparked a surprising amount of pleasure in my sister’s tender flesh. Man, Katy’s body simply feels incredible. If I could, I would never leave.
When I could feel “my” pussy quiver in demand for more, I knew that I was ready. I took his hand off my boobs, turned around, and then quickly pulled down my pants. Leaning against the wall, I stuck out my butt and presented him with my sister’s cleanly shaven folds. “Come on. Put it in. I’m hungry for your meat,” I said, my voice dripping with lust.
Unlike before, I didn’t have to tell him twice this time, which didn’t mean that he handled the situation more skillfully. He had trouble putting his dick in me, as he kept fumbling around, constantly missing the right hole. I giggled, seeing him all flustered like that. “Dammit! I-I’m sorry. T-This is my f-first time,” He kept saying that, which turned me on even more.
“Why don’t you let me handle that?” I said to him. Then I grabbed his shaft and guided it into the right entrance. I gasped as I felt him slowly pushing into me. This nerd was surprisingly well hung. Sure, I had way bigger dicks before, but compared to what you would expect from the rest of his physique, it was enormous.
It seemed that he was finally beginning to grow a pair. He started out very timidly, but with each thrust he gained more confidence, and rammed his prick into me ever more viciously. The more his ferocity increased, the louder I moaned. My ass cheeks jiggled every time his hips slapped against them. With the enormous speed that he was eventually going at, my whole body felt like it was vibrating.
“Yes! Yes! Harder!” I screamed in my sister's voice. I didn’t care if anyone heard us. In fact, I wanted them to hear us. I wanted everyone in this gym to know how much he satisfied me. Especially those troglodytes that kept hitting on me in vain. They should know that they are nothing compared to him.
He must have been close, because I felt him preparing for one big, final thrust. Unfortunately, his clumsiness hadn’t magically dissipated in the past few minutes, as he accidentally slipped out of me and, on his thrust forward, naturally missed the entrance. Instead, his dick slid up inbetween my cheeks and then burst, coating my entire back with his sperm. This last act of derpiness drove me wild and gifted me with an incredible climax. I almost collapsed, because my legs were shaking so much.
We were both breathing hard as we were coming down. When I recovered, I wordlessly pulled my pants up and put Katy’s boobs back into my sports bra. As a goodbye I gave him one final french kiss and said to him, “you were amazing. Let’s do this again some time.” I turned around and just left him standing there in disbelief, his mouth wide open, probably unable to comprehend what just had happened. I left the gym still with his masterpiece painted on my back for all to see.
Katelyn
I got my body back just in time for lunch. My sister returned my body clean and in perfect condition, although it was exhausted from the workout and my nether regions felt suspiciously funny. I was able to spend the afternoon as myself, because, luckily, Robby was occupied with some class project and, well, Dad doesn’t really want to hop me anyway. I spent my free time just lazing around and relaxing, recuperating from all the weeks of stress and whatever shenanigans Chloe was up to earlier. Unfortunately, time flew by way too quickly and soon it was time for my Mom to take over.
Susan
It was finally my turn to hop Katy, which got me nearly giddy. But in the back of my mind, I also felt bad that we all were so greedy when it came to her. She is rarely at home nowadays, and the few times she does come around, she barely has any time to be herself.
In the beginning, when we first found out about her powers, I wasn’t even interested in hopping her. I mean, why would I want to be a child again? And my own daughter at that? I simply did not care for that. But as she grew up and matured into a woman, I got a little curious.
The first time I hopped her was when she had just turned sixteen. She was about to go to a party with her friends when she came downstairs all dolled up. Seeing her like that got me really reminiscent, and I have to admit, a little envious as well. It made me nostalgic for my own youth and my “wilder” years, when I was out and about almost every weekend. So in a moment of weakness, when she wasn’t paying attention, I quickly jumped into her body and then went partying with her friends all night long. The next day she got really mad at me and made me make it up to her, because she had been looking forward to that night for a very long time.
But now she is a full-grown adult, with a job and her own apartement and everything. I still can’t believe how much Katy looks like myself, or at least how I did twenty-five years ago. Hopping her always feels like I’m stepping into a time machine. Goodbye saggy tits, adieu flabby love handles, and au revoir wrinkly skin. Everything about her was so taut and perky.
And the best is: her youthful body was just full of life and energy. Even my husband mentioned that when I’m in her body, there is always a certain glow about “her”. He said it’s like I’m radiating pure happiness.
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It was close to nine p.m. and I was almost ready to go out. I had already applied all of my makeup and done “my” hair. The only thing left was to squeeze my daughter’s nubile body into the tightest dress that she owned. When I finally pulled the straps over her shoulders, I found that her cleavage was spilling out. Did her boobs grow again? I thought she was done with that. I don’t think I was ever this big, at least no while also being this slim. Kids these days are unbelievable.
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The only thing I remember of that night is that I still had a strong buzz going when I arrived home. One strap of my dress had come off long ago, loosely dangling off my shoulder, and almost exposing my daughter’s nipple. I stumbled my way through the darkness as I didn’t want to turn the lights on so that I wouldn’t wake anyone. I even climbed the stairs on all fours just to stay as quiet as possible. Eventually I made my way to the master bedroom, where my husband was snoring in a deep slumber. I just crawled onto the bed and under the blanket, not even bothering to undress.
I don’t know whether it was the residual alcohol, all the guys at the club, or the fact that I was in my daughter’s youthful body, but I was incredibly horny. I tried playing with “myself” so I could finally fall asleep, but that didn’t help. Frustrated from the lack of release I carefully peeled back the blanket. I immediately went for my husbands bottoms, delicately fishing out his big, juicy cock. Even though I could hardly see anything, it looked so delicious and felt so plump in my daughter’s soft hands. Without hesitation I started sucking him off like I had so many times before, in a way that I knew would get him hard in seconds.
I managed to bob my head up and down his shaft only a few times, having hardly any time to enjoy his familiar taste, before he was good to go. I slowly errected myself, making sure not to shift my weight too abruptly. Luckily, my husband was still fast asleep. I swung one leg over, pulled my panties aside, and then lowered myself onto him. I gasped when I felt the tip of his thick member enter our daughter’s dripping wet pussy. I greatly enjoyed every inch of him slowly sliding up inside of me. I was practically impaling myself.
Feeling his girth part our daughter’s young, forbidden folds was simply too much for me: I accidentally let a small moan slip out. I immediately clasped my hands over my mouth and froze any and all of my movements. After a small, silent pause his snoring resumed and I continued on. Eventually I bottomed out and my husband now had his whole sex embedded inside of his own daughter.
I started gently gyrating my hips back and forth, “my” lips rubbing against him in the process. The resulting friction cheered me on to go faster. My husband’s snores soon turned into mumbling and then into moans. I practically devoured his cock, as I was now bouncing up and down on him, swallowing him whole with “my” slippery cunt. In my own body I couldn’t have done that. I’m simply too old now.
At some point he must have been at least half-awake, because he grabbed my hips and started thrusting as he moaned my name. I know it was probably too dark for him to see anything properly, but having him confuse our daughter’s body for myself really gave both my ego and my arousal a huge spike. In that moment I felt really mischievous, and also a little bit naughty, so to tease him I simply moaned, “Oh, yes, Daddy!” His eyes suddenly flew wide open and he sputtered in shock, as he only now realized that he was fucking his own daughter.
He tried to push me off, but he was severly weakend due to all of the pleasure I was giving him. “Wait, Katy! What are you doihhhnggg—oh my God—ooooohhhhhhh…,” he groaned as his creamy load exploded inside of “me”. Unfortunately, “my” body wasn’t satisfied yet, as I desperately kept riding dick, which became more and more limp with every second.
After a couple of deep breaths he seemed to have regained both a clear mind and his strength. He tried to wrestle me off of himself, causing me to lose balance. He lunged to catch me but I only managed to yelp as we both fell off the bed.
Walter
I suddenly found myself lying on something that was both hard and soft at the same time. My mind was hazy and I felt very disoriented. It all happened so fast: one moment I was having sex with my wife, but then suddenly my daughter seemed on top of me. Everything seemed like a dream and I still wasn’t sure whether I was actually awake. On top of that I felt not only drunk but also aroused, and there was something gooey inside of me. My mind was in total chaos.
Then I felt something stirring underneath me. “I’m sorry honey, but could get off of me?” I heard my wife say. I rolled off of her and onto the floor, still unsure what was going on. “Honey, is that you? What happened?” I groaned, my voice sounding off. I rolled over and onto my stomach so I could get up more easily. But somehow I rolled onto two giant pillows that were now squeezed between me and the floor. Then it finally dawned on me: I was in my daughter’s body.
“Wait … why am I in Katy’s body?” I wondered. It finally clicked. “Whatthehell? Whatwereyouthinking?” I slurred my words. “Sshhh, not so loud. You’ll wake the kids,” my wife said. “Susan, what is wrong with you? How could you have sex with me in Katy’s body. This is our daughter for crying out loud?” “I’m sorry,” my wife said with tears welling up in her eyes. “I couldn’t control myself. I was drunk.” “What if she finds out?” I panicked.
I tried standing up, but my knees were just too wobbly for that. “Let’s get you off the floor first,” my wife said as she helped me. My daughter’s underwear felt uncomfortably wet, as it seemed to have caught a large gob of my essence. As I leaned on my wife for support, I could even feel a little bit of it leaking down my leg. “Ugh, I feel disgusting,” I moaned.
My wife helped me get onto the bed and then joined me on the other side, sitting next to me. We kept arguing in hushed voices for about half an hour, debating back and forth how we would handle this situation, but we couldn’t agree on a solution. “I’m terribly sorry about what I did,” she whispered. “Let’s just go to sleep for now and talk more about this tomorrow, okay?” “Fine,” I grumbled. I turned on my side, away from my wife, while she gently stroked my head.
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Susan seemed to have fallen asleep rather quickly as I could hear her snoring not much later. I, on the other hand, had trouble finding rest: I was simply too upset. And besides, “my” loins were still burning with desire, probably because my wife was unable to finish her escapades. I tried fighting it the entire time, but in the end, I cracked. Despite the imense pleasure I got from “playing with myself”, I felt really terrible for violating my own daughter’s body. She should have never been touched like that by her own father.
As my fingers were hastily going in and out, I unwittingly kept pushing my very own seed deeper and deeper inside of her. I was writhing underneath the blanket, inside my daughter’s body, right next to my sleeping wife. That thought finally pushed me over the edge. Trying to stay as quietly as possible, I bit my lip and just “exhaled” deeply. I could feel all that built-up tension melt away. Having found release, my eyes lids suddenly became ver heavy and I was finally able to fall asleep.
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I woke up with a pounding headache the next morning. “Ugh, Susan, honey, I don’t think I feel so good,” I groaned. I flopped my arm over to search for my wife right next to me but ultimately I only found empty space. She must have gotten up already. Groggily I dragged myself out of bed. With my body feeling like a bag of bricks I stumbled all the way to the bathroom. Inside, I turned on the lights and then let out a big yawn while rubbing my eyes.
Looking in the mirror, I blinked and squinted until I was able to focus. But when I finally managed to have a clear look, I was in for a shock: in front of me stood my daughter in the worst state I had ever seen her in. Her hair was a total mess and her makeup smudgy. Both straps of her dress had come loose, exposing her chest. And the hem had curled up around her waist, revealing large, crusty stains on her underwear. The events of last night finally came back, hitting me like a freight train.
I had to grab the sink to balance myself, as I was suddenly hit by a spell of dizziness. My heart was racing and I started hyperventilating. Oh my God, what had we done? What had I done? Images of my and our indecent acts from last night kept flashing in my mind. I felt so disgusted, I almost started vomiting.
I tried forcing myself to calm down by first taking control of my breath. Inhale … exhale … in … and out … in … and out. Slowly I managed to calm down enough to gather some thoughts. The first thing I decided on was to take a shower and clean “myself” up. I did not want our daughter to wake up to her body in such a disgusting state and find out what we did to her like that.
I gulped when I realized that this meant I had to see her naked. I try not to look at her in a sexual way. She is my daughter after all. But it’s hard sometimes, because she looks just like her mother did twenty-five years ago. Last night was the first time ever that I had done something indecent with or inside of her body.
Eventually I had to bite the bullet and began undressing. I tried keeping my eyes shut, but that turned out to be too much of a hindrance. After I was done, I tried to give my daughter at least some amount of decency by crossing her legs and folding her arms over her chest. But unfortunately, this made me hyper-aware of her body parts, as “my” arms were squishing her breasts and “my” thighs kept squeezing her folds. My daughter’s face was now beet red and I looked away in embarrassment.
I realized, that if I was going to do this, then I had to do it quickly, because there was no apparent way around it and the longer it took the worse it would get. I practically jumped into the shower, closed the shower curtain, and turned on the water, all in one swift motion. The second the hot water hit my skin I could quite literally feel the dirt and grime wash away. Relaxation spread all over myself and for a moment I even forgot that I was in my daughter’s body.
Washing her hair and face was no problem, but when it was time for her boobs I felt like a pervert. Just calling them that—“boobs”—gave me a bit of an ick. But I felt even more perverted for enjoying it. I just couldn’t deny how big and soft they were. And how firm her butt was.
I “saved” the worst part for the end: cleaning her private parts. I really didn’t want to after what I did last night, but there was still quite a lot of dried up residue from left inside of her. Reluctantly I began entering my daughter, only one finger at first. As I kept scrubbing her inner walls, “it” responded by quivering and “thanking” me with a tingling sensation. I cursed myself for liking it.
The entire time I fought hard to ignore the “positive feedback” I was getting. But the longer it lasted and the deeper I went, the more I liked it. Eventually I had to stop fooling myself and admit that I wasn’t cleaning anymore, but instead I was getting off in my daughter’s body again. Soon after I peaked and cried out, my daughter’s voice filled with pleasure. I breathed hard as this time it wasn’t just the feeling of water that was washing all over her body.
When I finally came down from my high, I was left with regret and disgust. Even though my daughter’s body was now perfectly clean, my mind felt incredibly dirty.
Katelyn
When I got my body back the day after, my parents acted really fishy. They tried to pretend like nothing happened and were trying to play it off when I asked them directly, but I could cleary tell that something was up by the way they were avoiding eye contact. Reluctantly I returned home in the evening. During the weeks after that, my family kept hopping me less and less, even though I would visit home more often. The few times they did hop me they would do so at odd times and without even asking beforehand, almost like they had planned it.
Also, I noticed that my belly had grown a bit. At first I thought that I was gaining weight, but one weekend, when I was staying home, I realized that I hadn’t had my period in quite some time. The moment that realization hit me, the pieces began falling into place: my parents had hopped me every time I was supposed to be due. Through all the seemingly random hoppings I kind of lost track of my cycle, and generally paid less attention to it.
I immediately did a pregnancy test, which confirmed what I had feared: yes, I was pregnant. My first reaction was disbelief. But when the reality of it all sank in, I became overwhelmed to the point dizziness. After I had some time to digest the news, I became incredibly livid. Not only did they do something so horrendously stupid to me, they also tried to cover up their mistake, dodging any and all responsibility.
Fuming, I drove over to their house to confront them with the facts, getting a hefty speeding ticket on the way there. When I threw the results of my pregnancy test in their faces, they were dead silent. Like before they wouldn’t even look me in the eyes. And every time they did manage to open their pathetic mouths, they were just squirming. It was insanely frustrating. I just barely managed to get out of them that, yes, I was indeed pregnant with my father’s child. Speechless, I just stormed off. I went “no contact” with them and blocked them on all my devices, unsure when or if I ever would speak to them again.
As for the baby that is growing inside of me: I’m very likely not going to keep it. I mean, I wasn’t planning on becoming a mother so soon; I’m not even in a relationship right now. And I sure as hell didn’t plan on having my father’s child. Considering how I was treated in my life so far, I think that I don’t even want to have children—ever. I don’t want them to run the risk of becoming a reverse hopper like me; I wouldn’t want to inflict that on anyone.
Well, right now, the future seems really uncertain.
Katelyn
My family sucks. I do love them, but sometimes they just suck. Thanks to them my life is usually a total mess. You see, I’m a reverse body hopper. What that means is, my family can possess my body so long as they collide with me at a high enough velocity. I then black out completely and wake up again whenever they decide to leave. Thank God this only works with my family and not with total strangers or my life would be over.
They constantly just take my body, and even when they ask they just keep begging and pleading until I finally give in. Well, the only exception is my Dad. He is just the greatest. He’s never even asked to take over my body. In fact, I’ve asked him to hop me before. He would often take over for me when I was sick or when my period was really bad. He’s the only one I can trust to take care of me and respect my body.
I mean, despite how that all sounds, they do love me, I know they do. That’s why they always try to make it up to me, by buying me gifts or doing stuff for me, like chores and my homework, or hitting the gym. I just wish I could spend some time around my family in peace and simply enjoy their company.
When I talk to my friends about it they make a way big of a deal out of it. It’s not like I feel violated or anything, more like just tired and annoyed. I’m probably just so used to it, even though I shouldn’t be, because it’s been going on for so long, longer that I can even remember. Sometimes it makes me feel like public property, like a shared family car that everyone wants to take for a ride. I can’t even imagine the countless amount of hours of my life that I lost to them.
But I guess it’s gotten better since I moved out, simply for the fact that I’m now out of their reach. Although that still doesn’t stop them from asking if they could borrow “me” for a while. Well, at least it’s easier to say “no” over the phone or via text. And as an added bonus, I don’t have to take the pill anymore. I never liked taking it as it messes with my hormones too much. I only took it as a safety precaution so that my family couldn’t do anything too stupid while they were inside of me.
Actually, it’s been a while since I visited my family, ’cause I’ve been so busy at work. I haven’t met all of them yet, since I arrived at my parent’s house very late last night. So far, I’ve only got to meet Mom and Dad. Maybe I’ll see Robby and Chloe at breakfast or whenever they decide to get up.
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Waking up from my daydream, I realized that I had been in the shower for way too long. I turned off the water, reached for my towel, and began drying myself off. I always hated that part, because it made me miss the bliss and warmth of the hot water. Afterwards I got out of the shower and wrapped the towel tightly around my body. Then I stepped into hallway, closed the door behind myself and—
Robert
“Hihi. Welcome home, ‘sis’”, I giggled in my sister’s voice. I quickly flitted off to her room and tightly locked the door behind me. I immediately dropped the towel that “I” was wearing, revealing my older sister’s body in all her naked glory. “Oh, ‘Katy’. You can’t imagine how much I missed ‘you’”, I said, giving “myself” a big hug, squishing my sister’s enormous chest in the process.
I sauntered over to Katy’s full-length mirror, enjoying the sway of her hips with every step. I thoroughly looked her over from head to toe. Her body was simply perfect. Especially her boobs. “Man, I just love your huge rack,“ I told my “sister” while giving her giant globes a firm squeeze. I just couldn’t help myself.
It’s not like I have the hots for my sister. To me, her mind and her body are two separate things. It’s just an unfortunate coincidence that she happened to be a reverse body hopper. I mean, I don’t have a thing for my younger sister or my mom. But then again, neither of them are reverse hoppers.
By now, I’ve hopped my sister so often, that to me it doesn’t really feel like I’m wearing her body. It just feels like I’m being me—a different me. I’ve hopped her since I was a child, even before I hit puberty. The first time was a total accident, and back then she found it cute and adorable, maybe because I was, and also because she was always pretty motherly towards me; she’s my older sister after all. But ever since we, especially I, hit puberty, she disliked me hopping her more and more.
I guess it was bad timing that I discovered her ability when I did, which is probably the reason why I am attracted to her body. In a way you could say that we developed alongside each other, even though she had a two-year headstart. I mean, not many people get to experience growing up both as a boy and a girl, and in more than one way I am thankful for that. Because of her I know what it feels like to become a woman and I think that made us closer than any other siblings. Over the years, I got to experience the swelling of her breasts and the widening of her hips, among other things. And I always loved how her body felt so much softer. Maybe I was secretly envious of that, or maybe I just enjoyed the feeling, I don’t even know.
Nevertheless, I’m a guy afterall and as a hormonal teenager I took advantage of that unique opportunity every way I could. My sister is the reason why, so far, I’ve only dated girls who are slightly older than me. I hopped her way more often than she even knows. There were times when I would sneak into her bedroom almost every. Thankfully, now that I’m older and in college, I have myself much better under control. Although it’s still hard to resist hopping her sometimes. But then again, that whole experience really taught me how to please a woman.
I’m ashamed to admit it, but a few weeks ago I even had sex with her when our little sister was wearing her. I just couldn’t help myself. The combination of my preexisting attraction to her body and my little sister coming on to me was simply too much for me not to give in. To this day, it was still the best sex I ever had. Sometimes, when the sex with a girlfriend gets a little boring, I imagine my sister in her place, which always perks me up again. One time I even accidentally said her name, which was the end of that relationship.
By now, “I” was already dripping wet as I had been rubbing “my” crotch and massaging “my” breasts the whole time I stood in front of the mirror. Feeling that my knees were getting weak, I hurried over and threw myself onto Katy’s bed. There I really went at it by reaching deep inside of my sister’s hole and groping her boobs and tweaking her nipples. I planned on giving her a warm welcome-home present, so I kept frantically sloshing two of her fingers in and out of her dripping wet cunt. After a few minutes of expert stimulation, I felt that her body was on the cusp of an orgasm and abruptly jumped out of her.
Katelyn
Like so many times before, I suddenly woke up in my room. I was lying on my bed, one hand clutching my breast, the other burried inside of me, the latter keept penetrating me, seemingly all on its own. Without a warning, a wave of pleasure hit me. A warm tingling bloomed between my legs and then ratiated outwards, coursing through my entire body. It all happened so fast, I couldn’t stop myself from letting out a long, high-pitched moan. The sudden and intense pleasure made me squirt so much, I soiled both my hand and my bedsheets.
“Welcome home, sis,” my brother laughed with a big, dirty grin plastered across his face. “Robby, you asshole!” I yelled at him. As I pulled my hand from my vagina, strings of the gooey slime that coated my fingers followed it. “Ew, you’re such a disgusting pig.” “Why? Don’t you like your ‘present’?” he asked while he made a run for the door. “You could’ve at least cleaned up after yourself,” I tried to call after him, but he had already fled my room. “Great. Now I have to take another shower.”
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All clean again, I joined my parents at the breakfast table. The table was overflowing with food as my Mom had really gone all out to celebrate my long-awaited return home. “Did you sleep well, honey?” my mother asked. “Oh, yes, fantastic. It felt really great to sleep in my old bed again,” I said while I loaded my plate with waffles and fruits. “What was all that ruckus about earlier?” my father grumbled. “Just Robby being the prick that he usually is.” “Hmpf. I guess I need to have a word with him later.”
“Katyyyyy!” I heard my little sister yell as she ran towards me. I hadn’t even managed to get the first bite of my breakfast when she already gave me a big hug. “Oh, you don’t know how much I missed you, sis!” “Did you really miss me or just my body?” I retorted. “Of course I missed you, silly. You’re my favorite sister.” “I’m your only sister,” I interjected. “Right. But since you brought it up: can I borrow ‘you’ today? Just for this morning, I promise. It’s been way too long since the last time.”
“Leave your sister alone, Chloe,” my Dad commanded. “You’ll make her feel not welcome in her own home. No wonder she is hardly here.” “Oh, she doesn’t mind, Daddy. Right sis?” she said, looking at me with her huge puppy dog eyes. “Yes, I do.” “Come on, Katy. Please? Just for a little bit!” “No,” I responded flatly. “Pleeeeeaaaase. I’ll even go to the gym for you. Remember how much you hate doing that?” “No, I don’t. You’re just making shit up. But, hmm, well. It’s been forever since I had any form of exercise. Work kept me really busy lately,” I pondered aloud. “Pretty please?” she said pouting her lips. “Ugh, fine, I guess,” I reletend. Chloe squealed in response.
“Sweety,” my Mom interjected timidly. “I’m sorry, this might be bad timing and come off as rude, but would you mind if tonight—”. “Yes, yes, it’s fine,” I interrupted her annoyed. “You can all ‘borrow’ my body. But get it out of your systems today, ’cause there will be no hopping tomorrow! I—”
Chloe
“Chloe!” my Mom scolded me. “You could have at least let your sister eat breakfast herself,”. “But Moooom,” I whined in my older sister’s voice. “You heard her. She said it was okay.” I wolfed down my sister’s breakfast as fast as I could and then raced up the stairs and into Katy’s room, leaving my speechless parents behind.
Finally behind closed doors I began rubbing my sister’s flat belly. I loved doing that so much, her pussy always immediately begins to tingle in response. Unfortunately, I wasn’t as blessed in the looks departement as my older sister was. As far back as I can remember I have been chubby. And with each year, it’s gotten worse. I can’t seem to lose weight, no matter what I try. Which makes me feel jealous of her sometimes, even though I know that it isn’t her fault.
In contrast to mine, her body is really slim and always feels so light and full of energy. It even makes going to the gym a lot of fun. In my own body it is just pure torture. And the reactions I get from other people are just so different. When I’m her, people seem to adore me, but when I’m myself, they seem to despise me. Even though I’m the same person; only my looks change.
That’s the main reason why I’ve been hopping her since I was little. Also, being in her body always made me feel so mature and grown-up. I always felt especially proud when I was wearing her big boobs. I loved showing them off and catching someone trying to secretly glance at them (or sometimes even outright staring). Back then they seemed enormous, especially compared to, what I considered, my own underdeveloped body. In hindsight, when I look at them now in old photos, they don’t seem that big. Sure, they were bigger than those of other girls her age, but still, nothing compared to what she sports now.
At that time, three years simply seemed like such a huge gap, and I guess I was simply too imature. She was always just way ahead of me and I felt I could never catch up to her, even though to an actual adult she might have still looked like a child and not that much different from me.
Seducing guys as my sister is my favorite thing to do, especially since they won’t even look at me in my own body. It always gives me such a thrill. Seeing them squirm and try to impress me, just for me to ultimately blow them off anyway is so incredibly delicious. If they only could see the fat, ugly girl they were actually hitting on—their faces would be priceless.
A couple of weeks ago I even got my own brother in the sack. I’m not attracted to him per se, but there is something about the challenge of seducing someone who shouldn’t even be looking at you like. It was just irresistible to me. The greatest challenge yet would be fucking my Dad, but he’s way to old and even thinking about that is just yuck.
In the end though, seducing my brother turned out to be not too difficult, since he had been hopping our sister all the time anyway. That was a bit of a let-down, but the sex was still amazing. He really knows his way around a woman’s body, or at least Katy’s.
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An hour later I arrived at the gym. I was wearing an outfit that I had bought just for my sister’s body. She refused to wear it herself since she always found it too revealing, but well, nothing she can do about it while I’m in charge. I mean, I have to admit, it’s basically just a sports bra that shows off her huge tits and exposes her toned midriff, paired with an incredibly tight pair of yoga pants. I especially love how far these pants are riding up inbetween her butt cheeks. Her ass is practically devouring them.
The moment I stepped into the building I had all he meatheads gawking at me. And who could blame them, when I’m always giving them a reason to, making sure to give them a show in my sister’s body. I guess they must have missed her as much as I did, since I used to be a regular in this gym before my sister moved out.
I started with my usual warm up routine. Every couple of minutes some jock would come up to me, trying to hit on me under the guise of “just giving advice”. I always initially flirt with them, even play a little dumb, only to then crush their feeble little egos by demonstrating how much more I knew about working out than them. Then I blow them off by making it crystal clear that their tiny, roided up dicks will never even get a whiff of my sister’s pussy. They always call me a bitch or a whore, or some other name, but eventually they all walk off deflated since they know that the security around here is pretty tight.
After I was finished with the “entrée”, I began serving the “main course”: squats to show off my sister’s firm ass (with a pair of tits on the side). Considering how much work I put into her booty over the years, I think by now half of it should be legally mine. Well, at least enough to call it “mine”.
By now, more and more guys came to approach me, sometimes even two of them at once. It was so hot seeing them fight over me. I even caught some guys filming me in the reflection of the of the mirror. Meanwhile, I kept teasing them and riling them up, all while having the plausible deniability of “working out“. Even though I was drenched in sweat from all the exertion, it wasn’t responsible for all the wetness on my body, at least not the one inbetween my legs.
I blew off the last guy buzzing around me and started putting away the weights in preparation to go home after a successful “workout”. As my gaze casually travelled around, not looking for anything in particular, my eyes suddenly honed in on what I then decided would become my “dessert”. I undid my ponytail, letting my sweat-drenched hair loose. While I sneaked up on my prey, I seductively swayed my hips, exuding confidence with ever step, and making “my” tits jiggle just the right amount. Over the years I had carefully cultivated and honed the skills to perfectly show of my sister’s body to the fullest. Unfortunately, these skills didn’t transfer to my own body, for obvious reasons.
I licked my luscious lips in anticipation as I came closer and closer to my target: a pale, scrawny, hairless nerd with thick glasses. You might wonder what a hot girl like “me” is doing approaching a “loser” like that. Well, let’s just say I have a thing for nerds. And also, I’m already very familiar with this particular geek. His name is Mark and he actually is in one of my college classes, but so far I didn’t have the confidence to approach him in my own body. In my sister’s body, on the other hand, I practically had an overabundance of it.
He was oblivious to my encroaching presence as he seemed preoccupied with his struggle to lift even the lightest of weights. When he realized that I was approaching him he looked befuddled and just stared at me like a deer in headlights.
“Hey, stud,” I said in a raspy whisper. “I’ve never seen you around here. Do you come here often?” “N-N-No,” he stammered. “I-I j-just started w-w-working out.” God, I love when people get nervous like that. It gets me all wet. Especially when they blush like that. “Oh, really? A hunk like you? Then where did you get these strong arms from?” I said while caressing his bicep—or rather, lack thereof. “A-Are you making fun of me?” “No, of course not,” I laughed, lightly slapping his feeble chest.
To get him on my good side again, I pulled out one of my favorite routines. I intentionally dropped something and then went, “Oopsie. I can really be such a klutz sometimes.” I made a show of it by clearly stepping in front of him, turning around, and then bending over.
For the cherry on top I pushed my ass against his crotch. The second our bodies touched, I could immediately tell how hard he was already. He tried to move away, but I just pushed even deeper into him. For good measure I began grinding against his member, eliciting a moan from him. When I got up I could see that his face was a deep crimson.
From afar I could hear a few men cursing and jeering, wondering why such a “hot chick” was grinding up against such a “pathetic little dweeb” like him. I could barely hide the devilish grin that appeared on “my” face. I stepped closer, pushed his tiny noodle of an arm inbetween my sister’s giant tits, and whispered in his ear, “it seems we have an audience. Would you prefer taking this somewhere private?” Unable to respond, all he could muster was to swallow hard. “I’ll take that as a yes,“ I said giving him a wink. Then I dragged him off to the locker rooms.
On the way over there he made a pathetic attempt at a protest, but even if he had tried to resist earnestly, I was still stronger than him. Finally arriving at our destination, I pushed him into one of the women’s changing rooms and locked the door behind us. This space was so tiny, we could almost feel our steamy breaths on each other’s skin. We were both reeking of sweat.
I pushed my chest out and looked at him expectantly, but he just stood there doing nothing. It was so cute how I had to coax him into everything. I took charge and, with determination, pulled up my sports bra, flopping out my sister’s huge rack. Yet, he still wouldn’t move. Even when I physically placed his hands onto my chest he acted like a dead fish.
“Come on. Play with them,” I commanded. “I want you to.” But still: nothing. Then I firmly grabbed his crotch, which finally seemed to wake him up. “I-I’m sorry. This is my first time,” he said bashfully while he began to clumsily fondle my boobs. It felt a lot like masturbating with your other hand. He was so adorable, which got me insanely hot.
While he kept playing with my Katy’s tits I began rubbing her pussy. At one point he even felt adventurous enough to tweak her nipples, which sparked a surprising amount of pleasure in my sister’s tender flesh. Man, Katy’s body simply feels incredible. If I could, I would never leave.
When I could feel “my” pussy quiver in demand for more, I knew that I was ready. I took his hand off my boobs, turned around, and then quickly pulled down my pants. Leaning against the wall, I stuck out my butt and presented him with my sister’s cleanly shaven folds. “Come on. Put it in. I’m hungry for your meat,” I said, my voice dripping with lust.
Unlike before, I didn’t have to tell him twice this time, which didn’t mean that he handled the situation more skillfully. He had trouble putting his dick in me, as he kept fumbling around, constantly missing the right hole. I giggled, seeing him all flustered like that. “Dammit! I-I’m sorry. T-This is my f-first time,” He kept saying that, which turned me on even more.
“Why don’t you let me handle that?” I said to him. Then I grabbed his shaft and guided it into the right entrance. I gasped as I felt him slowly pushing into me. This nerd was surprisingly well hung. Sure, I had way bigger dicks before, but compared to what you would expect from the rest of his physique, it was enormous.
It seemed that he was finally beginning to grow a pair. He started out very timidly, but with each thrust he gained more confidence, and rammed his prick into me ever more viciously. The more his ferocity increased, the louder I moaned. My ass cheeks jiggled every time his hips slapped against them. With the enormous speed that he was eventually going at, my whole body felt like it was vibrating.
“Yes! Yes! Harder!” I screamed in my sister's voice. I didn’t care if anyone heard us. In fact, I wanted them to hear us. I wanted everyone in this gym to know how much he satisfied me. Especially those troglodytes that kept hitting on me in vain. They should know that they are nothing compared to him.
He must have been close, because I felt him preparing for one big, final thrust. Unfortunately, his clumsiness hadn’t magically dissipated in the past few minutes, as he accidentally slipped out of me and, on his thrust forward, naturally missed the entrance. Instead, his dick slid up inbetween my cheeks and then burst, coating my entire back with his sperm. This last act of derpiness drove me wild and gifted me with an incredible climax. I almost collapsed, because my legs were shaking so much.
We were both breathing hard as we were coming down. When I recovered, I wordlessly pulled my pants up and put Katy’s boobs back into my sports bra. As a goodbye I gave him one final french kiss and said to him, “you were amazing. Let’s do this again some time.” I turned around and just left him standing there in disbelief, his mouth wide open, probably unable to comprehend what just had happened. I left the gym still with his masterpiece painted on my back for all to see.
Katelyn
I got my body back just in time for lunch. My sister returned my body clean and in perfect condition, although it was exhausted from the workout and my nether regions felt suspiciously funny. I was able to spend the afternoon as myself, because, luckily, Robby was occupied with some class project and, well, Dad doesn’t really want to hop me anyway. I spent my free time just lazing around and relaxing, recuperating from all the weeks of stress and whatever shenanigans Chloe was up to earlier. Unfortunately, time flew by way too quickly and soon it was time for my Mom to take over.
Susan
It was finally my turn to hop Katy, which got me nearly giddy. But in the back of my mind, I also felt bad that we all were so greedy when it came to her. She is rarely at home nowadays, and the few times she does come around, she barely has any time to be herself.
In the beginning, when we first found out about her powers, I wasn’t even interested in hopping her. I mean, why would I want to be a child again? And my own daughter at that? I simply did not care for that. But as she grew up and matured into a woman, I got a little curious.
The first time I hopped her was when she had just turned sixteen. She was about to go to a party with her friends when she came downstairs all dolled up. Seeing her like that got me really reminiscent, and I have to admit, a little envious as well. It made me nostalgic for my own youth and my “wilder” years, when I was out and about almost every weekend. So in a moment of weakness, when she wasn’t paying attention, I quickly jumped into her body and then went partying with her friends all night long. The next day she got really mad at me and made me make it up to her, because she had been looking forward to that night for a very long time.
But now she is a full-grown adult, with a job and her own apartement and everything. I still can’t believe how much Katy looks like myself, or at least how I did twenty-five years ago. Hopping her always feels like I’m stepping into a time machine. Goodbye saggy tits, adieu flabby love handles, and au revoir wrinkly skin. Everything about her was so taut and perky.
And the best is: her youthful body was just full of life and energy. Even my husband mentioned that when I’m in her body, there is always a certain glow about “her”. He said it’s like I’m radiating pure happiness.
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It was close to nine p.m. and I was almost ready to go out. I had already applied all of my makeup and done “my” hair. The only thing left was to squeeze my daughter’s nubile body into the tightest dress that she owned. When I finally pulled the straps over her shoulders, I found that her cleavage was spilling out. Did her boobs grow again? I thought she was done with that. I don’t think I was ever this big, at least no while also being this slim. Kids these days are unbelievable.
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The only thing I remember of that night is that I still had a strong buzz going when I arrived home. One strap of my dress had come off long ago, loosely dangling off my shoulder, and almost exposing my daughter’s nipple. I stumbled my way through the darkness as I didn’t want to turn the lights on so that I wouldn’t wake anyone. I even climbed the stairs on all fours just to stay as quiet as possible. Eventually I made my way to the master bedroom, where my husband was snoring in a deep slumber. I just crawled onto the bed and under the blanket, not even bothering to undress.
I don’t know whether it was the residual alcohol, all the guys at the club, or the fact that I was in my daughter’s youthful body, but I was incredibly horny. I tried playing with “myself” so I could finally fall asleep, but that didn’t help. Frustrated from the lack of release I carefully peeled back the blanket. I immediately went for my husbands bottoms, delicately fishing out his big, juicy cock. Even though I could hardly see anything, it looked so delicious and felt so plump in my daughter’s soft hands. Without hesitation I started sucking him off like I had so many times before, in a way that I knew would get him hard in seconds.
I managed to bob my head up and down his shaft only a few times, having hardly any time to enjoy his familiar taste, before he was good to go. I slowly errected myself, making sure not to shift my weight too abruptly. Luckily, my husband was still fast asleep. I swung one leg over, pulled my panties aside, and then lowered myself onto him. I gasped when I felt the tip of his thick member enter our daughter’s dripping wet pussy. I greatly enjoyed every inch of him slowly sliding up inside of me. I was practically impaling myself.
Feeling his girth part our daughter’s young, forbidden folds was simply too much for me: I accidentally let a small moan slip out. I immediately clasped my hands over my mouth and froze any and all of my movements. After a small, silent pause his snoring resumed and I continued on. Eventually I bottomed out and my husband now had his whole sex embedded inside of his own daughter.
I started gently gyrating my hips back and forth, “my” lips rubbing against him in the process. The resulting friction cheered me on to go faster. My husband’s snores soon turned into mumbling and then into moans. I practically devoured his cock, as I was now bouncing up and down on him, swallowing him whole with “my” slippery cunt. In my own body I couldn’t have done that. I’m simply too old now.
At some point he must have been at least half-awake, because he grabbed my hips and started thrusting as he moaned my name. I know it was probably too dark for him to see anything properly, but having him confuse our daughter’s body for myself really gave both my ego and my arousal a huge spike. In that moment I felt really mischievous, and also a little bit naughty, so to tease him I simply moaned, “Oh, yes, Daddy!” His eyes suddenly flew wide open and he sputtered in shock, as he only now realized that he was fucking his own daughter.
He tried to push me off, but he was severly weakend due to all of the pleasure I was giving him. “Wait, Katy! What are you doihhhnggg—oh my God—ooooohhhhhhh…,” he groaned as his creamy load exploded inside of “me”. Unfortunately, “my” body wasn’t satisfied yet, as I desperately kept riding dick, which became more and more limp with every second.
After a couple of deep breaths he seemed to have regained both a clear mind and his strength. He tried to wrestle me off of himself, causing me to lose balance. He lunged to catch me but I only managed to yelp as we both fell off the bed.
Walter
I suddenly found myself lying on something that was both hard and soft at the same time. My mind was hazy and I felt very disoriented. It all happened so fast: one moment I was having sex with my wife, but then suddenly my daughter seemed on top of me. Everything seemed like a dream and I still wasn’t sure whether I was actually awake. On top of that I felt not only drunk but also aroused, and there was something gooey inside of me. My mind was in total chaos.
Then I felt something stirring underneath me. “I’m sorry honey, but could get off of me?” I heard my wife say. I rolled off of her and onto the floor, still unsure what was going on. “Honey, is that you? What happened?” I groaned, my voice sounding off. I rolled over and onto my stomach so I could get up more easily. But somehow I rolled onto two giant pillows that were now squeezed between me and the floor. Then it finally dawned on me: I was in my daughter’s body.
“Wait … why am I in Katy’s body?” I wondered. It finally clicked. “Whatthehell? Whatwereyouthinking?” I slurred my words. “Sshhh, not so loud. You’ll wake the kids,” my wife said. “Susan, what is wrong with you? How could you have sex with me in Katy’s body. This is our daughter for crying out loud?” “I’m sorry,” my wife said with tears welling up in her eyes. “I couldn’t control myself. I was drunk.” “What if she finds out?” I panicked.
I tried standing up, but my knees were just too wobbly for that. “Let’s get you off the floor first,” my wife said as she helped me. My daughter’s underwear felt uncomfortably wet, as it seemed to have caught a large gob of my essence. As I leaned on my wife for support, I could even feel a little bit of it leaking down my leg. “Ugh, I feel disgusting,” I moaned.
My wife helped me get onto the bed and then joined me on the other side, sitting next to me. We kept arguing in hushed voices for about half an hour, debating back and forth how we would handle this situation, but we couldn’t agree on a solution. “I’m terribly sorry about what I did,” she whispered. “Let’s just go to sleep for now and talk more about this tomorrow, okay?” “Fine,” I grumbled. I turned on my side, away from my wife, while she gently stroked my head.
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Susan seemed to have fallen asleep rather quickly as I could hear her snoring not much later. I, on the other hand, had trouble finding rest: I was simply too upset. And besides, “my” loins were still burning with desire, probably because my wife was unable to finish her escapades. I tried fighting it the entire time, but in the end, I cracked. Despite the imense pleasure I got from “playing with myself”, I felt really terrible for violating my own daughter’s body. She should have never been touched like that by her own father.
As my fingers were hastily going in and out, I unwittingly kept pushing my very own seed deeper and deeper inside of her. I was writhing underneath the blanket, inside my daughter’s body, right next to my sleeping wife. That thought finally pushed me over the edge. Trying to stay as quietly as possible, I bit my lip and just “exhaled” deeply. I could feel all that built-up tension melt away. Having found release, my eyes lids suddenly became ver heavy and I was finally able to fall asleep.
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I woke up with a pounding headache the next morning. “Ugh, Susan, honey, I don’t think I feel so good,” I groaned. I flopped my arm over to search for my wife right next to me but ultimately I only found empty space. She must have gotten up already. Groggily I dragged myself out of bed. With my body feeling like a bag of bricks I stumbled all the way to the bathroom. Inside, I turned on the lights and then let out a big yawn while rubbing my eyes.
Looking in the mirror, I blinked and squinted until I was able to focus. But when I finally managed to have a clear look, I was in for a shock: in front of me stood my daughter in the worst state I had ever seen her in. Her hair was a total mess and her makeup smudgy. Both straps of her dress had come loose, exposing her chest. And the hem had curled up around her waist, revealing large, crusty stains on her underwear. The events of last night finally came back, hitting me like a freight train.
I had to grab the sink to balance myself, as I was suddenly hit by a spell of dizziness. My heart was racing and I started hyperventilating. Oh my God, what had we done? What had I done? Images of my and our indecent acts from last night kept flashing in my mind. I felt so disgusted, I almost started vomiting.
I tried forcing myself to calm down by first taking control of my breath. Inhale … exhale … in … and out … in … and out. Slowly I managed to calm down enough to gather some thoughts. The first thing I decided on was to take a shower and clean “myself” up. I did not want our daughter to wake up to her body in such a disgusting state and find out what we did to her like that.
I gulped when I realized that this meant I had to see her naked. I try not to look at her in a sexual way. She is my daughter after all. But it’s hard sometimes, because she looks just like her mother did twenty-five years ago. Last night was the first time ever that I had done something indecent with or inside of her body.
Eventually I had to bite the bullet and began undressing. I tried keeping my eyes shut, but that turned out to be too much of a hindrance. After I was done, I tried to give my daughter at least some amount of decency by crossing her legs and folding her arms over her chest. But unfortunately, this made me hyper-aware of her body parts, as “my” arms were squishing her breasts and “my” thighs kept squeezing her folds. My daughter’s face was now beet red and I looked away in embarrassment.
I realized, that if I was going to do this, then I had to do it quickly, because there was no apparent way around it and the longer it took the worse it would get. I practically jumped into the shower, closed the shower curtain, and turned on the water, all in one swift motion. The second the hot water hit my skin I could quite literally feel the dirt and grime wash away. Relaxation spread all over myself and for a moment I even forgot that I was in my daughter’s body.
Washing her hair and face was no problem, but when it was time for her boobs I felt like a pervert. Just calling them that—“boobs”—gave me a bit of an ick. But I felt even more perverted for enjoying it. I just couldn’t deny how big and soft they were. And how firm her butt was.
I “saved” the worst part for the end: cleaning her private parts. I really didn’t want to after what I did last night, but there was still quite a lot of dried up residue from left inside of her. Reluctantly I began entering my daughter, only one finger at first. As I kept scrubbing her inner walls, “it” responded by quivering and “thanking” me with a tingling sensation. I cursed myself for liking it.
The entire time I fought hard to ignore the “positive feedback” I was getting. But the longer it lasted and the deeper I went, the more I liked it. Eventually I had to stop fooling myself and admit that I wasn’t cleaning anymore, but instead I was getting off in my daughter’s body again. Soon after I peaked and cried out, my daughter’s voice filled with pleasure. I breathed hard as this time it wasn’t just the feeling of water that was washing all over her body.
When I finally came down from my high, I was left with regret and disgust. Even though my daughter’s body was now perfectly clean, my mind felt incredibly dirty.
Katelyn
When I got my body back the day after, my parents acted really fishy. They tried to pretend like nothing happened and were trying to play it off when I asked them directly, but I could cleary tell that something was up by the way they were avoiding eye contact. Reluctantly I returned home in the evening. During the weeks after that, my family kept hopping me less and less, even though I would visit home more often. The few times they did hop me they would do so at odd times and without even asking beforehand, almost like they had planned it.
Also, I noticed that my belly had grown a bit. At first I thought that I was gaining weight, but one weekend, when I was staying home, I realized that I hadn’t had my period in quite some time. The moment that realization hit me, the pieces began falling into place: my parents had hopped me every time I was supposed to be due. Through all the seemingly random hoppings I kind of lost track of my cycle, and generally paid less attention to it.
I immediately did a pregnancy test, which confirmed what I had feared: yes, I was pregnant. My first reaction was disbelief. But when the reality of it all sank in, I became overwhelmed to the point dizziness. After I had some time to digest the news, I became incredibly livid. Not only did they do something so horrendously stupid to me, they also tried to cover up their mistake, dodging any and all responsibility.
Fuming, I drove over to their house to confront them with the facts, getting a hefty speeding ticket on the way there. When I threw the results of my pregnancy test in their faces, they were dead silent. Like before they wouldn’t even look me in the eyes. And every time they did manage to open their pathetic mouths, they were just squirming. It was insanely frustrating. I just barely managed to get out of them that, yes, I was indeed pregnant with my father’s child. Speechless, I just stormed off. I went “no contact” with them and blocked them on all my devices, unsure when or if I ever would speak to them again.
As for the baby that is growing inside of me: I’m very likely not going to keep it. I mean, I wasn’t planning on becoming a mother so soon; I’m not even in a relationship right now. And I sure as hell didn’t plan on having my father’s child. Considering how I was treated in my life so far, I think that I don’t even want to have children—ever. I don’t want them to run the risk of becoming a reverse hopper like me; I wouldn’t want to inflict that on anyone.
Well, right now, the future seems really uncertain.
possession
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Here's a RWBY incest fanfiction that I drawed up. Now, before entering, I must warn you of the content within: there will be violence. There will be blood. There will be murder. There will be incestuous relations. There will be heartbreak (probably). And there will be Sprite. If ANY of that is too uncomfortable for you, please look elsewhere. Everyone else, happy reading.
Also, this is serving as a prototype for mixing story and porn. Both are great on their own, but together, they're unmatched. So I wanna try my hand with it. So hopefully, ya like it....alright, dassitdassall.
"Hmm…B7," Yang guesses,
"Miss," Ruby responds, earning a grunt in return, "...E…2?"
"Dammit!"
"Hahaha! I told you, Ms. Doubtfire! You! Can't! Beat me! I'm the best! I am the very powerful! Witness the true greatness shining upon you!"
The two sisters share a laugh after the display of dumbassery from the young girl.
"Oh, calm down, Ms. Braggart," Yang replies, cleaning up the game, "You won a couple of board games. So what? Any joe schmoe could get lucky twice."
"Uh huh. Keep finding different ways of coping with the fact that you're getting your butt kicked by your little sister."
"Alright, big shot. Gloves are off now. Which game's next?"
Ruby takes a moment to think of her options, but she's soon interrupted as her father suddenly swoops her up in the air, causing her to squeal in joy as he turns her about before setting her down on her feet and kneeling down to her level.
"I've got a game for ya," he says, looking her in the eyes and poking her nose, "It's single player, though. So Yang can't join in, unfortunately. It's called 'brush your teeth and head on up to bed'. Patent pending."
"Awww."
"I know, I know. But you've already been up half an hour past your bedtime. You've gotta go to bed at some point, Rubes."
"5 more minutes?"
"In another lifetime maybe."
"Pleeease?"
"Ruby."
Yang chuckles at the back and forth before deciding to go with ol' reliable.
"Don't worry, Ruby. Tomorrow's gonna be much better anyways. We'll get to play more with more time in our arsonal?"
"Yaaay!" Ruby rejoices with Tai turning to her with a feigned look of disapproval of the plan,
"And how do you plan to make good on that promise, young lady?"
"Come on, she's a kid," Yang replies, "She's gotta have some fun."
"You're half right. She's still a kid. So she needs to be in bed at the appropriate time or everything falls out of whack."
"Ok, ok, how's about this: we play three quarters past her bedtime."
"...Ten minutes."
"Two and a half quarters."
"Twelve minutes and you only do half the dishes from now on."
"Two quarters and I take care of dinner every visit."
"...Alright, deal."
Ruby rejoices from the compromise, not knowing that that's practically the same deal that they've had for the past few months.
"Ok, but that's tomorrow. This is tonight."
"Ok, ok."
Ruby then latches onto Yang's waist, embracing her in a warm hug, which Yang reciprocates. She then ruffles her little sister's hair before poking her sides, earning cute giggles in response.
"Alright, see ya tomorrow, sis. Don't destroy the place while I'm gone."
"No promises," Ruby replies with a grin,
"Guess that's all I'm gonna get. Whatever. Shoo, ya little rascal."
Yang scoots the girl away with her giggling in response before heading upstairs to her bathroom, leaving Tai and Yang to their own conversation.
"Ok, serious time," Tai says, turning to his daughter and folding his arms, "Are you ok?"
"I'm good. Honest. This stopped meaning as much as it did after the first visit. Her smile does a lot, y'know?"
"Yeah. I know what you mean there. But I just wanna make sure. If…she's making you uncomfortable in any way-..."
"Dad, I'm fine. I swear. Just a matter of getting her off my ass at times."
"Yuuup. And speaking of which-..."
He pulls out his phone, looking at the time. He then recoils as he receives his answer.
"9:38. That's gonna be a fun conversation at this time of night. Want me to chaufer?"
"Nah. Not like she'll have the balls to do anything to me. Or even care enough to really make a big deal out of it. Plus, you've still got a rowdy little monster to tend to."
"Yeah, guess you're right. Ok, stay safe, sweetheart. I love you."
"Love you, too."
They embrace each other in a hug with Tai kissing the top of Yang's head before they separate and Yang heads out the front door. As she rides home on her bike, Yang, just so happens to spot her favorite Mexican restaurant. And just as suspiciously, she suddenly develops a craving for a meal of some sort.
'Well, if I'm gonna be late, might as well be hella late,' she thinks to herself as she stops at the restaurant.
After parking her bike, she places her keys in her pocket before heading inside the building, taking in the wonderous scent of the Mexican environment. She then steps forward to the hostess, who's already ready for her.
"Hi, there, Yang," she greets with a beaming smile,
"Hey, Beth," Yang greets back,
"A bit late to go out of your way to come here, isn't it?"
"I'm just coming from my dad's, actually. Then I saw that this place was still open, so…y'know…what the hell? Can never go wrong with Mexican, right?"
"You just wanna piss your mom off, don't you?"
"Heh. No getting past you, Bethine."
"Yeah, I figured. Well, you're gonna have to wait a little bit. About…five…ten minutes?"
"Oh, please, take your time. I am in no rush at all."
They share a chuckle before Yang takes a seat in the waiting area, pulling out her phone and scrolling away. And after half an hour of waiting, Yang's finally met with Beth's presence, garnering her attention.
"Oh, hey, there," she greets after removing an earbud,
"Hey. Just wanted to let you know that a table's finally ready."
"Really? Wow. That was quick. You've got a fat tip in your future, young lady."
"Wow. That's a first."
"Don't get used to it. It isn't exactly my treat tonight."
She reaches into her purse and pulls out a wallet before opening it, revealing her mother's picture. Beth brings a hand to her mouth, gasping and chuckling at the absurdity at hand. Yang then brings a finger to her lips, shushing her as she takes a hundred dollar bill from the wallet and pushes it into Beth's pocket in her jeans. Beth, not objecting to the gift, zips her lips before leading Yang to her table.
"Alright, what'll ya have?" Beth questions as she prepared to jot down the order,
"Hmm," Yang replies, looking at the menu and browsing, "I'll just have the supreme nachos, the grand chimichanga dinner, and…let's go with a fajita plate to really seal the deal."
"Sprites?"
"Sprites."
"Alright, we'll have that out for ya in a jiff."
"Awesome. Take your time. No rush."
Beth closes her notepad and heads off, leaving Yang to her own endeavors again. And aside from the constant dispensing of her beverage, Yang doesn't see much of the hostess. That is until nearly an hour later when she finally receives her food.
"Ok, here's your fajitas, your chimichanga dinner, your cheesy supreme nachos, and just for good measure another Sprite for ya."
"Oh, you spoil me, Beth."
"Only the best for our guests. And if you're wondering about the time, I took the liberty of telling the cooks to really make the order special by not having it that high on their priorities. Such an order takes precise measurements, y'know?"
"You are just a delight."
"I do what I can. If you need anything else, don't hesitate to yell."
"Good to know. Thanks."
Beth then steps away as Yang takes a few bites of her nachos and a few drinks of her drink. And after about fifteen more minutes of being on her phone, she ignores the abundance of text messages she's getting and takes a look at her percentage, which shows a decent thirty percent. Which should be more than enough to get her home with her music.
"Hey," Beth says, approaching her table, noticing she's barely touched her food, "Everything alright?"
"Yeah. I'm actually about to head home. Any way I can get to-go boxes and cups for these?"
"Comin' right up."
She then goes to retrieve the boxes, cups, and bag. Once she returns, Yang packs up her food and drinks before reaching inside her mother's wallet and presenting eight more hundred dollar bills.
"One for everyone in the establishment," she says, placing the wallet back into her purse, "Thanks again."
"No, no. Thank you. Greatest customer ever. Tell your mom I said hi."
"Got it. Night."
"Night, Yang. Drive safe."
Yang collects her barings before stepping out of the establishment and heading home. After parking her bike, she grabs her food and walks up to the front door, retrieving her keys and mentally preparing for the upcoming hellfire that awaits her on the other side. After unlocking the door, she steps inside and closes it, taking a breath.
'5, 4, 3, 2,'
"It's late," she hears Raven's voice say in the living room, "Where were you?"
"With dad, remember?" Yang replies, not even looking at her as she heads into the kitchen,
"You should've been here at 9:15. It's damn near midnight. I'm not gonna ask again. Tell me where you were."
"Out."
"Yang, I'm not in the mood. Where the hell were you? And why weren't you answering me?"
Yang doesn't even acknowledge her. She just stores her food in the fridge. Not content with being ignored, Raven stands up from the couch and heads into the kitchen, blocking the exit.
"Answer me!" she snaps,
"What, a girl can't just enjoy the late night drives like everyone else?" Yang replies, overflowing with smarm, unphased by her mother's tone,
"Yang Xiao Long, I asked you a fucking question! Answer it! Your ass is here before 9:30! That's the rule here! Why are you just getting here at fucking midnight?!"
"Oh, doth my ears deceive me? Is the same mouth preaching punctuality bullshit to me right now attached to the same woman who couldn't find it in her busy schedule to spend a second with her own daughter for the entirety of her adolescence?! Is that really what's going on here?!"
"Don't you take that tone of voice with me! I'm your mother!"
"Could've fooled me, Ms. I-take-the-family-out-of-'family-business'!"
"Well, I'm here now! So as long as that fact remains, you do what I say when I say if you wanna keep living under my fucking roof!"
"Yeah, your fucking roof that's in dad's name! Yup! Your fucking roof that you don't spend a damn dime on! Right, right! It just bothers the shit outta you whenever you don't have control over every little thing, doesn't it?!"
Raven takes a few steps forward, folding her arms as she gets inches away from her daughter's unperturbed face. She then says in a low tone,
"No. What bugs me is someone who doesn't know their place in environments that don't typically favor them because of some self-righteous phase they're going through. And once you've seen your fair share of the same routine of someone being stupid and shooting their mouth off at someone who's more than willing to pop it back in place, you tend to find it getting a bit old after a while. Now, what you will do is head to your room. Then tomorrow, once whatever this is that's making you delude yourself into thinking that you're hot shit wears off, you will apologize to me. And I'm not gonna hear another word outta you. Do I make myself clear?"
Yang clasps her hands behind her back, giving her mother the most nonchalant look she can muster before matching her tone with,
"Or what? What exactly is gonna happen if I don't make that little fantasy of yours a reality? See, I'm not one of your little subjects. Once you've run into enough bullies who push you for their own pleasures, you tend to find out they're just pussies who can't stand being pushed back. So…I'm pushing back. Whatcha gonna do about it?...Pussy?"
She punctuates her point, bringing her hand to her mother's shoulder and shoving her. Raven closes her eyes, taking a breath before chuckling to herself as she looks into her daughter's eyes, which are now slowly shifting from lilac to their blood red shade.
"Ok," she says, "You're your own person. Do whatever you wanna do."
She then steps aside, allowing her daughter to leave the kitchen. Yang gives her a smug smirk before accepting her invitation, being sure to bump into her shoulder in passing. But just when she makes contact with her, Raven grabs her daughter by her hair and yanks her back to face her. Yang, anticipating the maneuver, shifts her body towards her mother before delivering a powerful headbutt to her lip, causing her to stumble back to the fridge.
Yang glares daggers at her, daring her to make another move. Raven brings two fingers to her lip, wiping away the blood from it before darting at Yang. Yang, again, evades her mother's maneuver, managing to pin her against the wall before kneeing her in her stomach. Raven then grabs onto her leg and trips the other, causing Yang to fall to the floor. She then mounts her daughter, attempting a punch to her jaw, which Yang dodges and counters with a punch of her own, switching their positions and wrapping her hands around Raven's throat.
Raven brings her hands to Yang's arms, digging her nails into her skin. Yang withstands the piercing for a bit before finally giving in and releasing her grip. Raven then manages her foot between them and kicks Yang back against a nearby cabinet. She then sits up and the pair just sit in their current positions, breathless and scowling at each other.
"I fucking hate you," Yang declares, making her way back to her feet,
"I hate you right back, you conceited little bitch."
"Apple doesn't fall far from the tree in that regard, huh?"
"I wish you were never born."
"I wish Ruby was spared the burden of being birthed by you."
Silence. Raven can only recoil at that last statement. Even Yang's surprised by the phrase. She never wanted her sister to be involved in this in any way. It just slipped out. But the damage has been done. And that damage is made abundantly clear as what Yang sees next shocks her to her core. Raven's…tearing up. And without another word, she steps out of the kitchen and rushes upstairs. Moments later, Yang hears her bedroom door slam shut.
And after moments of coming to terms with what just happened, Yang goes to the fridge and fetches herself a cup of Sprite before heading to the living room and turning on the TV after sitting on the couch. She decides to camp there for the night both because of laziness and because her room is right next to Raven's and she's not nearly in the mindset to deal with being anywhere near her. Maybe that'll change tomorrow.
Also, this is serving as a prototype for mixing story and porn. Both are great on their own, but together, they're unmatched. So I wanna try my hand with it. So hopefully, ya like it....alright, dassitdassall.
"Hmm…B7," Yang guesses,
"Miss," Ruby responds, earning a grunt in return, "...E…2?"
"Dammit!"
"Hahaha! I told you, Ms. Doubtfire! You! Can't! Beat me! I'm the best! I am the very powerful! Witness the true greatness shining upon you!"
The two sisters share a laugh after the display of dumbassery from the young girl.
"Oh, calm down, Ms. Braggart," Yang replies, cleaning up the game, "You won a couple of board games. So what? Any joe schmoe could get lucky twice."
"Uh huh. Keep finding different ways of coping with the fact that you're getting your butt kicked by your little sister."
"Alright, big shot. Gloves are off now. Which game's next?"
Ruby takes a moment to think of her options, but she's soon interrupted as her father suddenly swoops her up in the air, causing her to squeal in joy as he turns her about before setting her down on her feet and kneeling down to her level.
"I've got a game for ya," he says, looking her in the eyes and poking her nose, "It's single player, though. So Yang can't join in, unfortunately. It's called 'brush your teeth and head on up to bed'. Patent pending."
"Awww."
"I know, I know. But you've already been up half an hour past your bedtime. You've gotta go to bed at some point, Rubes."
"5 more minutes?"
"In another lifetime maybe."
"Pleeease?"
"Ruby."
Yang chuckles at the back and forth before deciding to go with ol' reliable.
"Don't worry, Ruby. Tomorrow's gonna be much better anyways. We'll get to play more with more time in our arsonal?"
"Yaaay!" Ruby rejoices with Tai turning to her with a feigned look of disapproval of the plan,
"And how do you plan to make good on that promise, young lady?"
"Come on, she's a kid," Yang replies, "She's gotta have some fun."
"You're half right. She's still a kid. So she needs to be in bed at the appropriate time or everything falls out of whack."
"Ok, ok, how's about this: we play three quarters past her bedtime."
"...Ten minutes."
"Two and a half quarters."
"Twelve minutes and you only do half the dishes from now on."
"Two quarters and I take care of dinner every visit."
"...Alright, deal."
Ruby rejoices from the compromise, not knowing that that's practically the same deal that they've had for the past few months.
"Ok, but that's tomorrow. This is tonight."
"Ok, ok."
Ruby then latches onto Yang's waist, embracing her in a warm hug, which Yang reciprocates. She then ruffles her little sister's hair before poking her sides, earning cute giggles in response.
"Alright, see ya tomorrow, sis. Don't destroy the place while I'm gone."
"No promises," Ruby replies with a grin,
"Guess that's all I'm gonna get. Whatever. Shoo, ya little rascal."
Yang scoots the girl away with her giggling in response before heading upstairs to her bathroom, leaving Tai and Yang to their own conversation.
"Ok, serious time," Tai says, turning to his daughter and folding his arms, "Are you ok?"
"I'm good. Honest. This stopped meaning as much as it did after the first visit. Her smile does a lot, y'know?"
"Yeah. I know what you mean there. But I just wanna make sure. If…she's making you uncomfortable in any way-..."
"Dad, I'm fine. I swear. Just a matter of getting her off my ass at times."
"Yuuup. And speaking of which-..."
He pulls out his phone, looking at the time. He then recoils as he receives his answer.
"9:38. That's gonna be a fun conversation at this time of night. Want me to chaufer?"
"Nah. Not like she'll have the balls to do anything to me. Or even care enough to really make a big deal out of it. Plus, you've still got a rowdy little monster to tend to."
"Yeah, guess you're right. Ok, stay safe, sweetheart. I love you."
"Love you, too."
They embrace each other in a hug with Tai kissing the top of Yang's head before they separate and Yang heads out the front door. As she rides home on her bike, Yang, just so happens to spot her favorite Mexican restaurant. And just as suspiciously, she suddenly develops a craving for a meal of some sort.
'Well, if I'm gonna be late, might as well be hella late,' she thinks to herself as she stops at the restaurant.
After parking her bike, she places her keys in her pocket before heading inside the building, taking in the wonderous scent of the Mexican environment. She then steps forward to the hostess, who's already ready for her.
"Hi, there, Yang," she greets with a beaming smile,
"Hey, Beth," Yang greets back,
"A bit late to go out of your way to come here, isn't it?"
"I'm just coming from my dad's, actually. Then I saw that this place was still open, so…y'know…what the hell? Can never go wrong with Mexican, right?"
"You just wanna piss your mom off, don't you?"
"Heh. No getting past you, Bethine."
"Yeah, I figured. Well, you're gonna have to wait a little bit. About…five…ten minutes?"
"Oh, please, take your time. I am in no rush at all."
They share a chuckle before Yang takes a seat in the waiting area, pulling out her phone and scrolling away. And after half an hour of waiting, Yang's finally met with Beth's presence, garnering her attention.
"Oh, hey, there," she greets after removing an earbud,
"Hey. Just wanted to let you know that a table's finally ready."
"Really? Wow. That was quick. You've got a fat tip in your future, young lady."
"Wow. That's a first."
"Don't get used to it. It isn't exactly my treat tonight."
She reaches into her purse and pulls out a wallet before opening it, revealing her mother's picture. Beth brings a hand to her mouth, gasping and chuckling at the absurdity at hand. Yang then brings a finger to her lips, shushing her as she takes a hundred dollar bill from the wallet and pushes it into Beth's pocket in her jeans. Beth, not objecting to the gift, zips her lips before leading Yang to her table.
"Alright, what'll ya have?" Beth questions as she prepared to jot down the order,
"Hmm," Yang replies, looking at the menu and browsing, "I'll just have the supreme nachos, the grand chimichanga dinner, and…let's go with a fajita plate to really seal the deal."
"Sprites?"
"Sprites."
"Alright, we'll have that out for ya in a jiff."
"Awesome. Take your time. No rush."
Beth closes her notepad and heads off, leaving Yang to her own endeavors again. And aside from the constant dispensing of her beverage, Yang doesn't see much of the hostess. That is until nearly an hour later when she finally receives her food.
"Ok, here's your fajitas, your chimichanga dinner, your cheesy supreme nachos, and just for good measure another Sprite for ya."
"Oh, you spoil me, Beth."
"Only the best for our guests. And if you're wondering about the time, I took the liberty of telling the cooks to really make the order special by not having it that high on their priorities. Such an order takes precise measurements, y'know?"
"You are just a delight."
"I do what I can. If you need anything else, don't hesitate to yell."
"Good to know. Thanks."
Beth then steps away as Yang takes a few bites of her nachos and a few drinks of her drink. And after about fifteen more minutes of being on her phone, she ignores the abundance of text messages she's getting and takes a look at her percentage, which shows a decent thirty percent. Which should be more than enough to get her home with her music.
"Hey," Beth says, approaching her table, noticing she's barely touched her food, "Everything alright?"
"Yeah. I'm actually about to head home. Any way I can get to-go boxes and cups for these?"
"Comin' right up."
She then goes to retrieve the boxes, cups, and bag. Once she returns, Yang packs up her food and drinks before reaching inside her mother's wallet and presenting eight more hundred dollar bills.
"One for everyone in the establishment," she says, placing the wallet back into her purse, "Thanks again."
"No, no. Thank you. Greatest customer ever. Tell your mom I said hi."
"Got it. Night."
"Night, Yang. Drive safe."
Yang collects her barings before stepping out of the establishment and heading home. After parking her bike, she grabs her food and walks up to the front door, retrieving her keys and mentally preparing for the upcoming hellfire that awaits her on the other side. After unlocking the door, she steps inside and closes it, taking a breath.
'5, 4, 3, 2,'
"It's late," she hears Raven's voice say in the living room, "Where were you?"
"With dad, remember?" Yang replies, not even looking at her as she heads into the kitchen,
"You should've been here at 9:15. It's damn near midnight. I'm not gonna ask again. Tell me where you were."
"Out."
"Yang, I'm not in the mood. Where the hell were you? And why weren't you answering me?"
Yang doesn't even acknowledge her. She just stores her food in the fridge. Not content with being ignored, Raven stands up from the couch and heads into the kitchen, blocking the exit.
"Answer me!" she snaps,
"What, a girl can't just enjoy the late night drives like everyone else?" Yang replies, overflowing with smarm, unphased by her mother's tone,
"Yang Xiao Long, I asked you a fucking question! Answer it! Your ass is here before 9:30! That's the rule here! Why are you just getting here at fucking midnight?!"
"Oh, doth my ears deceive me? Is the same mouth preaching punctuality bullshit to me right now attached to the same woman who couldn't find it in her busy schedule to spend a second with her own daughter for the entirety of her adolescence?! Is that really what's going on here?!"
"Don't you take that tone of voice with me! I'm your mother!"
"Could've fooled me, Ms. I-take-the-family-out-of-'family-business'!"
"Well, I'm here now! So as long as that fact remains, you do what I say when I say if you wanna keep living under my fucking roof!"
"Yeah, your fucking roof that's in dad's name! Yup! Your fucking roof that you don't spend a damn dime on! Right, right! It just bothers the shit outta you whenever you don't have control over every little thing, doesn't it?!"
Raven takes a few steps forward, folding her arms as she gets inches away from her daughter's unperturbed face. She then says in a low tone,
"No. What bugs me is someone who doesn't know their place in environments that don't typically favor them because of some self-righteous phase they're going through. And once you've seen your fair share of the same routine of someone being stupid and shooting their mouth off at someone who's more than willing to pop it back in place, you tend to find it getting a bit old after a while. Now, what you will do is head to your room. Then tomorrow, once whatever this is that's making you delude yourself into thinking that you're hot shit wears off, you will apologize to me. And I'm not gonna hear another word outta you. Do I make myself clear?"
Yang clasps her hands behind her back, giving her mother the most nonchalant look she can muster before matching her tone with,
"Or what? What exactly is gonna happen if I don't make that little fantasy of yours a reality? See, I'm not one of your little subjects. Once you've run into enough bullies who push you for their own pleasures, you tend to find out they're just pussies who can't stand being pushed back. So…I'm pushing back. Whatcha gonna do about it?...Pussy?"
She punctuates her point, bringing her hand to her mother's shoulder and shoving her. Raven closes her eyes, taking a breath before chuckling to herself as she looks into her daughter's eyes, which are now slowly shifting from lilac to their blood red shade.
"Ok," she says, "You're your own person. Do whatever you wanna do."
She then steps aside, allowing her daughter to leave the kitchen. Yang gives her a smug smirk before accepting her invitation, being sure to bump into her shoulder in passing. But just when she makes contact with her, Raven grabs her daughter by her hair and yanks her back to face her. Yang, anticipating the maneuver, shifts her body towards her mother before delivering a powerful headbutt to her lip, causing her to stumble back to the fridge.
Yang glares daggers at her, daring her to make another move. Raven brings two fingers to her lip, wiping away the blood from it before darting at Yang. Yang, again, evades her mother's maneuver, managing to pin her against the wall before kneeing her in her stomach. Raven then grabs onto her leg and trips the other, causing Yang to fall to the floor. She then mounts her daughter, attempting a punch to her jaw, which Yang dodges and counters with a punch of her own, switching their positions and wrapping her hands around Raven's throat.
Raven brings her hands to Yang's arms, digging her nails into her skin. Yang withstands the piercing for a bit before finally giving in and releasing her grip. Raven then manages her foot between them and kicks Yang back against a nearby cabinet. She then sits up and the pair just sit in their current positions, breathless and scowling at each other.
"I fucking hate you," Yang declares, making her way back to her feet,
"I hate you right back, you conceited little bitch."
"Apple doesn't fall far from the tree in that regard, huh?"
"I wish you were never born."
"I wish Ruby was spared the burden of being birthed by you."
Silence. Raven can only recoil at that last statement. Even Yang's surprised by the phrase. She never wanted her sister to be involved in this in any way. It just slipped out. But the damage has been done. And that damage is made abundantly clear as what Yang sees next shocks her to her core. Raven's…tearing up. And without another word, she steps out of the kitchen and rushes upstairs. Moments later, Yang hears her bedroom door slam shut.
And after moments of coming to terms with what just happened, Yang goes to the fridge and fetches herself a cup of Sprite before heading to the living room and turning on the TV after sitting on the couch. She decides to camp there for the night both because of laziness and because her room is right next to Raven's and she's not nearly in the mindset to deal with being anywhere near her. Maybe that'll change tomorrow.
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This story tells you about a couple, a teenager named Liam and his redheaded girlfriend named Chloe who can't stop regenerating herself after sex.
ftf incest magic milf roleplay transformation age progression age regression mind change breast expansion gilf race change unaware transformation weight gain
by
ninhjimmy007
· 14 Jun 2025
Liam and Chloe is a couple and been dating each other for a long time. They enjoy their life, adventure, and even have sex. Suddenly, after they're climax, Chloe's body starts to glow and transforms into a different woman.
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· 14 Jun 2025
After Chloe transforms into Beatrice, he finds it kinky with her transformation or regeneration when she changes into someone else. Plus, it's hard to imagine that Beatrice was his girlfriend. Then again, it's way better than Doctor Who.
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A strange erotic story about a teenage boy named Nick and his lovely big-tittied girlfriend named Gena who asked to be his mom for the role.
This story was inspired by CelineTF from DeviantArt
Being My Mom
The room was bathed in soft golden light as I pressed my lips against Gena’s, our bodies pressed together on the bed, breath mingling in the warm space between us. She tasted sweet, like the candy-flavored lip gloss she always wore, and her full, pillowy lips moved against mine with practiced ease. My hands slid down her sides, feeling every curve of her tight little body before settling on her thick thighs, squeezing gently. She let out a soft moan against my mouth, her nails digging lightly into my shoulders.
“Nick…” she whispered, her voice already breathy with want. Her enormous E-cup tits pressed against my chest, the softness making my cock twitch in my jeans.
I broke the kiss just long enough to smirk. “You’re so fucking hot, Gena.”
She giggled, her blue eyes sparkling. “You say that like you don’t tell me every day.”
“‘Cause it’s true every day,” I shot back, slipping a hand under her crop-top to palm her tits. She sighed, arching into my touch, her pink nipples already stiff beneath the fabric of her bra.
We didn’t waste time—clothes were yanked off, tossed carelessly onto the floor, until she was naked beneath me, all smooth, tanned skin and plush curves. Her tits spilled into my hands as I lowered my mouth to one perfect nipple, sucking while my fingers teased the other. She gasped, thighs tightening around my waist, already grinding down against the bulge in my boxers.
“Fuck, Nick…”
I didn’t make her wait. My boxers came off, her hand wrapping around my cock, stroking once, twice, before she guided me to her soaked pussy. The first thrust made us both groan, her tight wet heat clamping around me as I bottomed out inside her.
“You feel so good,” I muttered into her neck, hips already moving slow and deep.
She whimpered, her nails scratching down my back. “Harder, baby, please—”
I obliged, pistoning into her, the sound of skin slapping filling the room. Her tits bounced with every movement, her moans going higher and more desperate as she clawed at me, pulling me deeper. I could feel her clenching around me, her thighs trembling as she got close.
“Cum for me,” I growled, tilting my hips just right to hit that spot inside her that made her scream.
Gena shattered beneath me, back arching as she came hard, her pussy squeezing my cock tight. The sight of her—flushed, gasping, tits heaving—was enough to push me over the edge. I buried myself deep as I came, groaning as warmth spilled inside her.
For a few blissful moments, we just breathed together, still joined, her fingers lazily tracing circles on my back. Then, reluctantly, I pulled out and collapsed beside her, pulling her close. She snuggled into me, her head resting on my chest, her leg draped over mine.
I stroked her blonde hair absentmindedly, enjoying the warmth of her body. But my mind was already drifting to something else—the turning of the calendar, the anticipation in my gut.
“Gena,” I murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Next month is March.”
She hummed. “Mhm. Got something special planned?”
I hesitated, heart pounding. “You ever heard the term… ‘March Needs Mom’?”
She pulled back just enough to look up at me, eyebrows raised. A slow, knowing smile curled her lips, and she bit her lower lip. “I might’ve heard of it.”
I swallowed. “Would you… would you be okay with it? If—if, by the end of March, you became mine?”
Her smile turned radiant. “You mean your mom?”
“Yeah.”
She giggled, pressing a soft kiss to my throat. “I’d love that, Nick. I’ve always loved the idea of being a mom.”
A thrill shot through me. She wanted this.
And so it began.
At first, the changes were subtle. A slight rounding of her hips. A new softness to her cheeks. Then, her tits—already massive—swelled even fuller, heavier, until she had to start wearing bras just to keep them supported. I watched in fascination as each morning, Gena seemed older, more mature, her face gaining gentle laugh lines, her body filling out into a perfect, thick MILF shape.
By the second week, her waist nipped in sharply, her ass rounder, thighs thicker, until she had that perfect, fuckable hourglass figure. She wasn’t just hot anymore—she was mom hot.
And she had no idea it was happening.
“Is it just me, or have my boobs gotten bigger?” she mused one morning, adjusting her sweater awkwardly over her now-massive M-cups.
I smirked, stepping closer to palm them possessively. “Might’ve. Not complaining.”
She swatted my hand away with a playful scowl. “Nick! Don’t be weird.”
But she was blushing. And she didn’t stop me when I did it again.
Her personality shifted too—gentler, sweeter, more nurturing. She started fussing over me, making sure I ate right, fixing my clothes. By the third week, she was calling me ‘honey’ and ‘sweetie’ in a voice that was unmistakably maternal.
And then, one morning, she walked into the kitchen, and my jaw dropped.
Gena was gone.
In her place stood Geraldine—my perfect, thick, buxom MILF mom. Her blonde hair was longer now, streaked with hints of silver, tied back in a loose bun. Her face was mature, beautiful, with just the right amount of wrinkles to make her look experienced. And her body—fuck—those tits were enormous, straining against her sweater, her hips wide, her ass a perfect handful. The way she moved was different too, slower, graceful, with a sway that screamed motherly confidence.
She looked up from the stove where she was cooking pancakes and smiled at me—a warm, loving smile that made my heart race.
“Morning, sweetheart,” she said, her voice richer, deeper. “Hungry?”
I could barely speak. “Yeah. Yeah, Mom.”
Her smile widened like that was the most natural thing in the world.
And when she bent over to grab the syrup from the cabinet, giving me a perfect view of her thick ass in those tight mom jeans, I knew—I was never calling her Gena again.
---
At the moment, I couldn’t take my eyes off her—Geraldine—my mom. The way her hips swayed as she moved around the kitchen, the way her huge tits bounced slightly with each step, the warm smell of pancakes and vanilla perfume filling the air. She hummed a soft tune under her breath, completely at ease, completely natural, like she’d always been my mother.
My cock throbbed in my boxers.
“Sweetheart, stop standing there and sit down,” she chided gently, pouring a glass of orange juice for me. Her fingers—older now, softer—brushed against mine as she handed it to me, and I swear I felt a jolt of electricity.
I obeyed, sliding into my seat, my eyes locked onto hers. She smiled down at me, her expression full of affection as she flipped the pancakes.
She doesn’t even know she was ever Gena.
The thought made my pulse race even faster.
She turned slightly, and my breath hitched. The morning sunlight caught the curves of her body perfectly—her waist dipped in before flaring out into those wide, motherly hips, her ass round and plump beneath her tight jeans. I could see the faint outline of her bra through her sweater, the straps digging into the soft flesh of her shoulders as they struggled to contain her heavy M-cup tits.
“Eat up, baby,” she said, sliding a plate of pancakes in front of me before leaning down—oh God—her tits pressing together as she reached past me for the syrup. Her cleavage was right there, inches from my face, warm and fragrant.
I wanted to bury my face in them.
Instead, I cleared my throat, shifting in my seat to hide my growing erection. “Thanks, Mom.”
She sat across from me, smiling as she watched me eat. “You’re such a good boy.”
Fuck.
I nearly choked on my food.
The way she said it—soft, approving, maternal—sent a rush of heat straight to my dick.
---
After breakfast, she insisted on doing the laundry. I followed her like a lovesick puppy, watching as she bent over the washing machine, her jeans pulling taut over her perfect ass. My fingers itched to grab her, to pull her against me and grind my cock into that thick behind until she moaned.
But I couldn’t. Not yet.
Not until she really understood her place.
Later that afternoon, we sat on the couch together, watching some stupid daytime talk show. She had her legs tucked under herself, her posture relaxed, her sweater stretching over those massive tits. I pretended to be engrossed in the TV, but my mind was elsewhere.
Then, she let out a content sigh and leaned her head on my shoulder.
“You know, Nicky,” she murmured, her fingers idly playing with the hem of her shirt. “I’m really happy we’re so close.”
My heart pounded. “Yeah?”
“Mhm.” She lifted her head just enough to look at me, her blue eyes warm. “A mother and son should always have a strong bond.”
Her hand found mine, squeezing gently.
Oh my God. She has no idea.
I swallowed, hesitating for only a second before tightening my grip on her fingers. “Yeah… we should be close.”
She smiled, pleased.
Then—fuck it—I took the plunge.
I leaned in and kissed her.
For a second, she froze. Then, to my shock, her lips moved against mine, soft and warm, before she pulled back with a bewildered little laugh.
“Oh, Nicky,” she said, her cheeks pink. “You—you can’t kiss me like that.”
I searched her face. “Why not?”
She bit her lip, her eyes flickering with something I couldn’t quite read. “It’s just… not what a son does.”
“But what if I want to?” I murmured, inching closer until our noses brushed.
Her breath hitched, her chest rising and falling quickly. “Nicky…”
I didn’t wait for her to finish.
This time, when I kissed her, she melted.
Her lips parted under mine with a soft moan, her fingers tangling in my hair as she kissed me back—harder, needier. One of her hands slid down my chest, fingers skimming over my stomach before hesitating at the waistband of my sweatpants.
“Is this… is this okay?” she whispered between kisses, her voice trembling.
I groaned, gripping her hips and pulling her into my lap. “More than okay, Mom.”
Her face flushed even deeper, but she didn’t protest as I tugged her sweater off, revealing the lacy pink bra barely containing her huge, milky tits.
“Oh God,” I breathed before burying my face in them, sucking her nipples through the fabric.
She gasped, arching into me, her thighs clenching around my hips. “Oh! Oh, baby… oh my baby…”
Her words sent a thrill through me.
She was mine now, in every way.
And as I laid her back on the couch, yanking her jeans down her thick thighs, she didn’t stop me.
Instead, she spread her legs for her son.
---
Geraldine gasped as I pulled her jeans and panties down in one smooth motion, her thick thighs trembling as they spread open for me. Her curvy body was flushed pink with arousal, her huge M-cup tits heaving with each breath as I loomed over her on the couch.
"Nick—oh god—we shouldn't... I'm your—"
"Say it, Mom," I growled, palming one of her massive breasts while my other hand trailed fingers along her soaking wet pussy lips. "Tell me who you belong to."
She moaned, her back arching as my fingers dipped inside her dripping entrance. "I-I'm your mother, baby... ohhh, yes right there!"
Her plush pussy clenched around my fingers shamelessly, her motherly instincts warring with her sudden lust for her own son. I could see the struggle in her half-lidded eyes even as she ground her hips against my hand, her thick thighs squeezing around my wrist. The way her big, milky tits jiggled with every movement sent blood rushing straight to my cock.
"Fuck, Mom, look at you," I groaned, pulling my spit-slick fingers from her pussy only to lick them clean right in front of her. She watched with wide eyes as I sucked her juices off my fingers, her plump lips parting with a needy whimper.
"You taste so sweet... kinda like that peach cobbler you made last week."
Geraldine's entire body shuddered at that, her maternal pride mingling with filthy arousal. "Nicky, you can't say things like—ahhh!" Her protest turned into a moan as I suddenly stuffed two fingers back inside her, curling them against that spongy spot that made her eyes roll back.
"Why not?" I smirked, scissoring my fingers inside her tight, wet channel. "Am I not your good boy?"
Her slick coated my hand as I finger-fucked her faster, her pussy making lewd squelching sounds that echoed in the quiet living room. Her large breasts bounced with each thrust of my fingers, her pink nipples rock hard beneath her lacy bra.
"Y-you are!" she gasped, her manicured nails digging into the couch cushions. "Y-you're my perfect boy, my good sweet son, oh god Nicky don't stop—!"
I didn't.
Instead, I ripped her bra off with my free hand, finally freeing those massive udders that had tormented me all morning. Her soft, pale flesh spilled into my hands, the sheer weight of them making my mouth water. I latched onto one stiff nipple, sucking hard while my fingers worked her pussy relentlessly.
Geraldine came with a strangled scream, her thick thighs clamping around my hand as her pussy gushed around my fingers. Her tits jiggled wildly from the force of her orgasm, milky skin flushed deep pink. I drank in every second—the way her motherly eyes glazed over with pleasure, how her manicured hands clutched at me desperately, those full lips trembling as she moaned my name.
When she finally came down from her high, panting and sweaty, I wasted no time yanking my sweatpants down and freeing my aching cock. Her heavy-lidded eyes locked onto my thick length, her pink lips parting in awe.
"My sweet boy is... so big," she breathed, one trembling hand reaching out to stroke me.
"Yours, Mom," I groaned, thrusting into her soft grip. "All yours. Want to be inside you."
Her maternal instincts should have protested. She should've stopped me right then.Instead, she spread her thick thighs even wider.
I lined up my cock with her drooling entrance, watching with rapt attention as the swollen head pressed against her slick folds. Geraldine bit her plush lower lip, her huge tits rising and falling rapidly as she nodded her consent.
Slowly—too slowly for either of our liking—I pushed inside.
Her gasp turned into a broken moan as inch after inch disappeared between her puffy outer lips. She was soaking wet, her tight walls squeezing me perfectly as I bottomed out in her velvety heat.
"Oh fuck," I groaned, gripping her wide hips. "Mom... you're so tight..."
Her glossy lips curved into a shaky smile, one hand coming up to cup my cheek. "That's because I only ever had you, sweetheart... my perfect baby boy."
The way her pussy fluttered around me at those words told me she wasn't referring to childbirth.
I started moving.
-----
Geraldine's breath hitched as I pulled out slowly, her pussy clinging to me like it didn’t want to let go. But when I thrust back in—hard—she let out a high-pitched moan, her huge tits bouncing with the force of it.
"Nnngh—oh god, Nicky!"
Her thighs trembled around my hips as I settled into a deep, relentless rhythm, each thrust punctuated by the wet slap of skin on skin. Her manicured nails dug into my shoulders, her face a mix of maternal adoration and carnal hunger.
"I-Is this okay, baby?" she gasped, even as she rolled her hips to meet each of my thrusts. "W-We shouldn't—ohhh!—but it feels so good..."
"Of course it's okay, Mom," I grunted, palming one of her massive tits, squeezing it roughly. "You were made for this. Made for me."
She whined, her slick walls tightening around my cock at the possessiveness in my voice. I could see the war in her eyes—the part of her that knew this was wrong battling the part that wanted to surrender completely to her son.
And as I leaned down to capture her nipple between my teeth, sucking hard while my fingers pinched the other, she didn't just surrender—she broke.
"Yours!" she screamed, her back arching as her pussy convulsed around me. "Yours yours yours, my boy, m-my good boy!"
Her orgasm hit her like a freight train, her whole body shaking, her thick thighs clamping around me, desperate to keep me buried inside her. I didn’t let up—couldn't let up—pounding into her through her climax, chasing my own.
Her eyes flew open, glazed over with pleasure, her plush lips swollen from biting them. "Cum inside me," she begged, her voice wrecked. "Please, baby, give it to Mommy—fill me!"
That was all I needed.
With a final brutal thrust, I buried myself as deep as I could and came, my orgasm ripping through me like a fucking explosion. Geraldine moaned, her arms circling around my neck as she held me close, whispering praise into my ear.
"That's my good boy... oh, you're so perfect... Mommy loves you so much..."
I shuddered at her words, my cock still twitching inside her as I emptied every last drop into her greedy womb.
When I finally pulled out, her pussy was a mess—my cum leaking out of her, glistening on her plump lower lips. She didn't even try to wipe it away.
Instead, she lay there, breathless and flushed, her huge tits rising as she panted. Then, with a soft giggle, she pulled me against her bosom, cradling my head like she used to when I was little.
"Mmm... my sweet baby," she murmured, stroking my hair.
I smirked, glancing up at her between the valley of her cleavage. "Love you too, Mom."
She blushed, but her smile didn't falter.
Later that night, I caught her standing in front of the mirror wearing one of Gena's old dresses—a little pink sundress that barely contained her new, thicker body.
I froze in the doorway.
She turned, her cheeks flushing as she fidgeted with the hem. "D-Does it look okay...?"
I swallowed hard.
She looked adorable. The way the dress strained against her huge tits, how it hugged every new curve of her thick, motherly body—like some perfect mix of my sweet girlfriend and my even sweeter mom.
But there was something else.
Something nostalgic in the way she played with the fabric.
Like a part of Gena was still in there somewhere.
I crossed the room in three long strides, pulling her into a deep, slow kiss.
"Perfect," I murmured against her lips. "Just like always."
She melted into me, her hands finding mine.
And for the first time, I wondered—
Maybe I could have both.
---
The end of March arrived like stealing sunlight—warm, golden, and over too soon.
I woke up with Geraldine’s thick thighs wrapped around me, her plush body pressed flush against my back, her slow breaths tickling my neck. I could feel the weight of her pillowy tits pressed between my shoulder blades, her warm pussy still sticky against my skin from last night.
A bittersweet ache settled in my chest.
Tonight, my mom would be Gena again.
I turned in her arms, drinking in every detail—the laugh lines around her soft blue eyes, the silver streaks in her messy blonde hair, the way her plump lips curved in sleep. Her motherly scent—vanilla and lavender—filled my lungs.
She stirred, blinking awake before smiling sleepily. “Mmm… morning, sweetheart.”
I didn’t answer.
Instead, I crushed my lips to hers.
Geraldine made a startled sound, but she melted into the kiss almost immediately, her hands sliding down my chest eagerly. I didn’t hold back—I kissed her like it was our last day together, sucking on her tongue, biting her plump lower lip, my hands roaming every inch of her lush curves.
She broke away with a gasp. “Nicky—what’s gotten into you?”
I buried my face in her tits, inhaling deeply before murmuring against her soft skin, “Just don’t wanna forget.”
She understood.
Her fingers slid through my hair, guiding me up so she could kiss me again, slower this time. Sweeter.
“You won’t,” she whispered. “I promise.”
---
We spent the day together like any mother and son—breakfast, laundry, bad daytime TV—except our version included me bending Geraldine over the kitchen counter, fucking her brains out while she sobbed my name.
And after dinner?
We really said our goodbyes.
The bed creaked under us as I mounted her from behind, her thick ass pressed against my hips as I buried myself to the hilt. Geraldine arched her back, her huge tits swaying beneath her as she braced herself on trembling arms.
“T-Tell me again,” she panted, pushing back against me desperately. “Tell me who Mommy belongs to.”
“Me,” I growled, gripping her wide hips tight enough to bruise. “Only me.”
She wailed as I pistoned into her, our bodies slapping together obscenely. I knew she was close—she always was when I talked like that—and I wasn’t far behind.
My hands slid around to grope her massive tits, squeezing them roughly as I fucked into her harder, deeper.
“Gonna fill you up, Mom,” I grunted. “One last time.”
She came with a shattered scream, her pussy milking my cock as I spilled inside her one final time.
We collapsed together, breathless and sweating, her body curled around mine.
And then she said the words I didn’t know I needed to hear—
“I’ll remember everything… and I’ll miss you, Nicky.”
---
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the windows.
I rolled over, expecting warmth—expecting her.
Instead, I found Gena.
Her real face—young, bright, familiar—staring at me with soft wonder.
No silver in her hair. No laugh lines.
All Gena.
I froze.
But then—
She smiled. A slow, knowing, beautiful smile.
“So…” she murmured, stretching her arms above her head with a playful yawn. “Turns out being your mom was really fun.”
My pulse exploded.
She remembered.
Gena giggled at my expression before leaning in, pressing her lips to my ear—
“Maybe we should do it again, probably on the next March? Or should we do it on Mother's day? Or how about being your Grandma, if you want to?”
I grabbed her, flipping her onto her back as she shrieked with laughter.
Yeah.
We definitely would.
(The End.)
This story was inspired by CelineTF from DeviantArt
Being My Mom
The room was bathed in soft golden light as I pressed my lips against Gena’s, our bodies pressed together on the bed, breath mingling in the warm space between us. She tasted sweet, like the candy-flavored lip gloss she always wore, and her full, pillowy lips moved against mine with practiced ease. My hands slid down her sides, feeling every curve of her tight little body before settling on her thick thighs, squeezing gently. She let out a soft moan against my mouth, her nails digging lightly into my shoulders.
“Nick…” she whispered, her voice already breathy with want. Her enormous E-cup tits pressed against my chest, the softness making my cock twitch in my jeans.
I broke the kiss just long enough to smirk. “You’re so fucking hot, Gena.”
She giggled, her blue eyes sparkling. “You say that like you don’t tell me every day.”
“‘Cause it’s true every day,” I shot back, slipping a hand under her crop-top to palm her tits. She sighed, arching into my touch, her pink nipples already stiff beneath the fabric of her bra.
We didn’t waste time—clothes were yanked off, tossed carelessly onto the floor, until she was naked beneath me, all smooth, tanned skin and plush curves. Her tits spilled into my hands as I lowered my mouth to one perfect nipple, sucking while my fingers teased the other. She gasped, thighs tightening around my waist, already grinding down against the bulge in my boxers.
“Fuck, Nick…”
I didn’t make her wait. My boxers came off, her hand wrapping around my cock, stroking once, twice, before she guided me to her soaked pussy. The first thrust made us both groan, her tight wet heat clamping around me as I bottomed out inside her.
“You feel so good,” I muttered into her neck, hips already moving slow and deep.
She whimpered, her nails scratching down my back. “Harder, baby, please—”
I obliged, pistoning into her, the sound of skin slapping filling the room. Her tits bounced with every movement, her moans going higher and more desperate as she clawed at me, pulling me deeper. I could feel her clenching around me, her thighs trembling as she got close.
“Cum for me,” I growled, tilting my hips just right to hit that spot inside her that made her scream.
Gena shattered beneath me, back arching as she came hard, her pussy squeezing my cock tight. The sight of her—flushed, gasping, tits heaving—was enough to push me over the edge. I buried myself deep as I came, groaning as warmth spilled inside her.
For a few blissful moments, we just breathed together, still joined, her fingers lazily tracing circles on my back. Then, reluctantly, I pulled out and collapsed beside her, pulling her close. She snuggled into me, her head resting on my chest, her leg draped over mine.
I stroked her blonde hair absentmindedly, enjoying the warmth of her body. But my mind was already drifting to something else—the turning of the calendar, the anticipation in my gut.
“Gena,” I murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Next month is March.”
She hummed. “Mhm. Got something special planned?”
I hesitated, heart pounding. “You ever heard the term… ‘March Needs Mom’?”
She pulled back just enough to look up at me, eyebrows raised. A slow, knowing smile curled her lips, and she bit her lower lip. “I might’ve heard of it.”
I swallowed. “Would you… would you be okay with it? If—if, by the end of March, you became mine?”
Her smile turned radiant. “You mean your mom?”
“Yeah.”
She giggled, pressing a soft kiss to my throat. “I’d love that, Nick. I’ve always loved the idea of being a mom.”
A thrill shot through me. She wanted this.
And so it began.
At first, the changes were subtle. A slight rounding of her hips. A new softness to her cheeks. Then, her tits—already massive—swelled even fuller, heavier, until she had to start wearing bras just to keep them supported. I watched in fascination as each morning, Gena seemed older, more mature, her face gaining gentle laugh lines, her body filling out into a perfect, thick MILF shape.
By the second week, her waist nipped in sharply, her ass rounder, thighs thicker, until she had that perfect, fuckable hourglass figure. She wasn’t just hot anymore—she was mom hot.
And she had no idea it was happening.
“Is it just me, or have my boobs gotten bigger?” she mused one morning, adjusting her sweater awkwardly over her now-massive M-cups.
I smirked, stepping closer to palm them possessively. “Might’ve. Not complaining.”
She swatted my hand away with a playful scowl. “Nick! Don’t be weird.”
But she was blushing. And she didn’t stop me when I did it again.
Her personality shifted too—gentler, sweeter, more nurturing. She started fussing over me, making sure I ate right, fixing my clothes. By the third week, she was calling me ‘honey’ and ‘sweetie’ in a voice that was unmistakably maternal.
And then, one morning, she walked into the kitchen, and my jaw dropped.
Gena was gone.
In her place stood Geraldine—my perfect, thick, buxom MILF mom. Her blonde hair was longer now, streaked with hints of silver, tied back in a loose bun. Her face was mature, beautiful, with just the right amount of wrinkles to make her look experienced. And her body—fuck—those tits were enormous, straining against her sweater, her hips wide, her ass a perfect handful. The way she moved was different too, slower, graceful, with a sway that screamed motherly confidence.
She looked up from the stove where she was cooking pancakes and smiled at me—a warm, loving smile that made my heart race.
“Morning, sweetheart,” she said, her voice richer, deeper. “Hungry?”
I could barely speak. “Yeah. Yeah, Mom.”
Her smile widened like that was the most natural thing in the world.
And when she bent over to grab the syrup from the cabinet, giving me a perfect view of her thick ass in those tight mom jeans, I knew—I was never calling her Gena again.
---
At the moment, I couldn’t take my eyes off her—Geraldine—my mom. The way her hips swayed as she moved around the kitchen, the way her huge tits bounced slightly with each step, the warm smell of pancakes and vanilla perfume filling the air. She hummed a soft tune under her breath, completely at ease, completely natural, like she’d always been my mother.
My cock throbbed in my boxers.
“Sweetheart, stop standing there and sit down,” she chided gently, pouring a glass of orange juice for me. Her fingers—older now, softer—brushed against mine as she handed it to me, and I swear I felt a jolt of electricity.
I obeyed, sliding into my seat, my eyes locked onto hers. She smiled down at me, her expression full of affection as she flipped the pancakes.
She doesn’t even know she was ever Gena.
The thought made my pulse race even faster.
She turned slightly, and my breath hitched. The morning sunlight caught the curves of her body perfectly—her waist dipped in before flaring out into those wide, motherly hips, her ass round and plump beneath her tight jeans. I could see the faint outline of her bra through her sweater, the straps digging into the soft flesh of her shoulders as they struggled to contain her heavy M-cup tits.
“Eat up, baby,” she said, sliding a plate of pancakes in front of me before leaning down—oh God—her tits pressing together as she reached past me for the syrup. Her cleavage was right there, inches from my face, warm and fragrant.
I wanted to bury my face in them.
Instead, I cleared my throat, shifting in my seat to hide my growing erection. “Thanks, Mom.”
She sat across from me, smiling as she watched me eat. “You’re such a good boy.”
Fuck.
I nearly choked on my food.
The way she said it—soft, approving, maternal—sent a rush of heat straight to my dick.
---
After breakfast, she insisted on doing the laundry. I followed her like a lovesick puppy, watching as she bent over the washing machine, her jeans pulling taut over her perfect ass. My fingers itched to grab her, to pull her against me and grind my cock into that thick behind until she moaned.
But I couldn’t. Not yet.
Not until she really understood her place.
Later that afternoon, we sat on the couch together, watching some stupid daytime talk show. She had her legs tucked under herself, her posture relaxed, her sweater stretching over those massive tits. I pretended to be engrossed in the TV, but my mind was elsewhere.
Then, she let out a content sigh and leaned her head on my shoulder.
“You know, Nicky,” she murmured, her fingers idly playing with the hem of her shirt. “I’m really happy we’re so close.”
My heart pounded. “Yeah?”
“Mhm.” She lifted her head just enough to look at me, her blue eyes warm. “A mother and son should always have a strong bond.”
Her hand found mine, squeezing gently.
Oh my God. She has no idea.
I swallowed, hesitating for only a second before tightening my grip on her fingers. “Yeah… we should be close.”
She smiled, pleased.
Then—fuck it—I took the plunge.
I leaned in and kissed her.
For a second, she froze. Then, to my shock, her lips moved against mine, soft and warm, before she pulled back with a bewildered little laugh.
“Oh, Nicky,” she said, her cheeks pink. “You—you can’t kiss me like that.”
I searched her face. “Why not?”
She bit her lip, her eyes flickering with something I couldn’t quite read. “It’s just… not what a son does.”
“But what if I want to?” I murmured, inching closer until our noses brushed.
Her breath hitched, her chest rising and falling quickly. “Nicky…”
I didn’t wait for her to finish.
This time, when I kissed her, she melted.
Her lips parted under mine with a soft moan, her fingers tangling in my hair as she kissed me back—harder, needier. One of her hands slid down my chest, fingers skimming over my stomach before hesitating at the waistband of my sweatpants.
“Is this… is this okay?” she whispered between kisses, her voice trembling.
I groaned, gripping her hips and pulling her into my lap. “More than okay, Mom.”
Her face flushed even deeper, but she didn’t protest as I tugged her sweater off, revealing the lacy pink bra barely containing her huge, milky tits.
“Oh God,” I breathed before burying my face in them, sucking her nipples through the fabric.
She gasped, arching into me, her thighs clenching around my hips. “Oh! Oh, baby… oh my baby…”
Her words sent a thrill through me.
She was mine now, in every way.
And as I laid her back on the couch, yanking her jeans down her thick thighs, she didn’t stop me.
Instead, she spread her legs for her son.
---
Geraldine gasped as I pulled her jeans and panties down in one smooth motion, her thick thighs trembling as they spread open for me. Her curvy body was flushed pink with arousal, her huge M-cup tits heaving with each breath as I loomed over her on the couch.
"Nick—oh god—we shouldn't... I'm your—"
"Say it, Mom," I growled, palming one of her massive breasts while my other hand trailed fingers along her soaking wet pussy lips. "Tell me who you belong to."
She moaned, her back arching as my fingers dipped inside her dripping entrance. "I-I'm your mother, baby... ohhh, yes right there!"
Her plush pussy clenched around my fingers shamelessly, her motherly instincts warring with her sudden lust for her own son. I could see the struggle in her half-lidded eyes even as she ground her hips against my hand, her thick thighs squeezing around my wrist. The way her big, milky tits jiggled with every movement sent blood rushing straight to my cock.
"Fuck, Mom, look at you," I groaned, pulling my spit-slick fingers from her pussy only to lick them clean right in front of her. She watched with wide eyes as I sucked her juices off my fingers, her plump lips parting with a needy whimper.
"You taste so sweet... kinda like that peach cobbler you made last week."
Geraldine's entire body shuddered at that, her maternal pride mingling with filthy arousal. "Nicky, you can't say things like—ahhh!" Her protest turned into a moan as I suddenly stuffed two fingers back inside her, curling them against that spongy spot that made her eyes roll back.
"Why not?" I smirked, scissoring my fingers inside her tight, wet channel. "Am I not your good boy?"
Her slick coated my hand as I finger-fucked her faster, her pussy making lewd squelching sounds that echoed in the quiet living room. Her large breasts bounced with each thrust of my fingers, her pink nipples rock hard beneath her lacy bra.
"Y-you are!" she gasped, her manicured nails digging into the couch cushions. "Y-you're my perfect boy, my good sweet son, oh god Nicky don't stop—!"
I didn't.
Instead, I ripped her bra off with my free hand, finally freeing those massive udders that had tormented me all morning. Her soft, pale flesh spilled into my hands, the sheer weight of them making my mouth water. I latched onto one stiff nipple, sucking hard while my fingers worked her pussy relentlessly.
Geraldine came with a strangled scream, her thick thighs clamping around my hand as her pussy gushed around my fingers. Her tits jiggled wildly from the force of her orgasm, milky skin flushed deep pink. I drank in every second—the way her motherly eyes glazed over with pleasure, how her manicured hands clutched at me desperately, those full lips trembling as she moaned my name.
When she finally came down from her high, panting and sweaty, I wasted no time yanking my sweatpants down and freeing my aching cock. Her heavy-lidded eyes locked onto my thick length, her pink lips parting in awe.
"My sweet boy is... so big," she breathed, one trembling hand reaching out to stroke me.
"Yours, Mom," I groaned, thrusting into her soft grip. "All yours. Want to be inside you."
Her maternal instincts should have protested. She should've stopped me right then.Instead, she spread her thick thighs even wider.
I lined up my cock with her drooling entrance, watching with rapt attention as the swollen head pressed against her slick folds. Geraldine bit her plush lower lip, her huge tits rising and falling rapidly as she nodded her consent.
Slowly—too slowly for either of our liking—I pushed inside.
Her gasp turned into a broken moan as inch after inch disappeared between her puffy outer lips. She was soaking wet, her tight walls squeezing me perfectly as I bottomed out in her velvety heat.
"Oh fuck," I groaned, gripping her wide hips. "Mom... you're so tight..."
Her glossy lips curved into a shaky smile, one hand coming up to cup my cheek. "That's because I only ever had you, sweetheart... my perfect baby boy."
The way her pussy fluttered around me at those words told me she wasn't referring to childbirth.
I started moving.
-----
Geraldine's breath hitched as I pulled out slowly, her pussy clinging to me like it didn’t want to let go. But when I thrust back in—hard—she let out a high-pitched moan, her huge tits bouncing with the force of it.
"Nnngh—oh god, Nicky!"
Her thighs trembled around my hips as I settled into a deep, relentless rhythm, each thrust punctuated by the wet slap of skin on skin. Her manicured nails dug into my shoulders, her face a mix of maternal adoration and carnal hunger.
"I-Is this okay, baby?" she gasped, even as she rolled her hips to meet each of my thrusts. "W-We shouldn't—ohhh!—but it feels so good..."
"Of course it's okay, Mom," I grunted, palming one of her massive tits, squeezing it roughly. "You were made for this. Made for me."
She whined, her slick walls tightening around my cock at the possessiveness in my voice. I could see the war in her eyes—the part of her that knew this was wrong battling the part that wanted to surrender completely to her son.
And as I leaned down to capture her nipple between my teeth, sucking hard while my fingers pinched the other, she didn't just surrender—she broke.
"Yours!" she screamed, her back arching as her pussy convulsed around me. "Yours yours yours, my boy, m-my good boy!"
Her orgasm hit her like a freight train, her whole body shaking, her thick thighs clamping around me, desperate to keep me buried inside her. I didn’t let up—couldn't let up—pounding into her through her climax, chasing my own.
Her eyes flew open, glazed over with pleasure, her plush lips swollen from biting them. "Cum inside me," she begged, her voice wrecked. "Please, baby, give it to Mommy—fill me!"
That was all I needed.
With a final brutal thrust, I buried myself as deep as I could and came, my orgasm ripping through me like a fucking explosion. Geraldine moaned, her arms circling around my neck as she held me close, whispering praise into my ear.
"That's my good boy... oh, you're so perfect... Mommy loves you so much..."
I shuddered at her words, my cock still twitching inside her as I emptied every last drop into her greedy womb.
When I finally pulled out, her pussy was a mess—my cum leaking out of her, glistening on her plump lower lips. She didn't even try to wipe it away.
Instead, she lay there, breathless and flushed, her huge tits rising as she panted. Then, with a soft giggle, she pulled me against her bosom, cradling my head like she used to when I was little.
"Mmm... my sweet baby," she murmured, stroking my hair.
I smirked, glancing up at her between the valley of her cleavage. "Love you too, Mom."
She blushed, but her smile didn't falter.
Later that night, I caught her standing in front of the mirror wearing one of Gena's old dresses—a little pink sundress that barely contained her new, thicker body.
I froze in the doorway.
She turned, her cheeks flushing as she fidgeted with the hem. "D-Does it look okay...?"
I swallowed hard.
She looked adorable. The way the dress strained against her huge tits, how it hugged every new curve of her thick, motherly body—like some perfect mix of my sweet girlfriend and my even sweeter mom.
But there was something else.
Something nostalgic in the way she played with the fabric.
Like a part of Gena was still in there somewhere.
I crossed the room in three long strides, pulling her into a deep, slow kiss.
"Perfect," I murmured against her lips. "Just like always."
She melted into me, her hands finding mine.
And for the first time, I wondered—
Maybe I could have both.
---
The end of March arrived like stealing sunlight—warm, golden, and over too soon.
I woke up with Geraldine’s thick thighs wrapped around me, her plush body pressed flush against my back, her slow breaths tickling my neck. I could feel the weight of her pillowy tits pressed between my shoulder blades, her warm pussy still sticky against my skin from last night.
A bittersweet ache settled in my chest.
Tonight, my mom would be Gena again.
I turned in her arms, drinking in every detail—the laugh lines around her soft blue eyes, the silver streaks in her messy blonde hair, the way her plump lips curved in sleep. Her motherly scent—vanilla and lavender—filled my lungs.
She stirred, blinking awake before smiling sleepily. “Mmm… morning, sweetheart.”
I didn’t answer.
Instead, I crushed my lips to hers.
Geraldine made a startled sound, but she melted into the kiss almost immediately, her hands sliding down my chest eagerly. I didn’t hold back—I kissed her like it was our last day together, sucking on her tongue, biting her plump lower lip, my hands roaming every inch of her lush curves.
She broke away with a gasp. “Nicky—what’s gotten into you?”
I buried my face in her tits, inhaling deeply before murmuring against her soft skin, “Just don’t wanna forget.”
She understood.
Her fingers slid through my hair, guiding me up so she could kiss me again, slower this time. Sweeter.
“You won’t,” she whispered. “I promise.”
---
We spent the day together like any mother and son—breakfast, laundry, bad daytime TV—except our version included me bending Geraldine over the kitchen counter, fucking her brains out while she sobbed my name.
And after dinner?
We really said our goodbyes.
The bed creaked under us as I mounted her from behind, her thick ass pressed against my hips as I buried myself to the hilt. Geraldine arched her back, her huge tits swaying beneath her as she braced herself on trembling arms.
“T-Tell me again,” she panted, pushing back against me desperately. “Tell me who Mommy belongs to.”
“Me,” I growled, gripping her wide hips tight enough to bruise. “Only me.”
She wailed as I pistoned into her, our bodies slapping together obscenely. I knew she was close—she always was when I talked like that—and I wasn’t far behind.
My hands slid around to grope her massive tits, squeezing them roughly as I fucked into her harder, deeper.
“Gonna fill you up, Mom,” I grunted. “One last time.”
She came with a shattered scream, her pussy milking my cock as I spilled inside her one final time.
We collapsed together, breathless and sweating, her body curled around mine.
And then she said the words I didn’t know I needed to hear—
“I’ll remember everything… and I’ll miss you, Nicky.”
---
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the windows.
I rolled over, expecting warmth—expecting her.
Instead, I found Gena.
Her real face—young, bright, familiar—staring at me with soft wonder.
No silver in her hair. No laugh lines.
All Gena.
I froze.
But then—
She smiled. A slow, knowing, beautiful smile.
“So…” she murmured, stretching her arms above her head with a playful yawn. “Turns out being your mom was really fun.”
My pulse exploded.
She remembered.
Gena giggled at my expression before leaning in, pressing her lips to my ear—
“Maybe we should do it again, probably on the next March? Or should we do it on Mother's day? Or how about being your Grandma, if you want to?”
I grabbed her, flipping her onto her back as she shrieked with laughter.
Yeah.
We definitely would.
(The End.)
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This strange erotic story tells you about a teenage boy named Nicky and his lovely big-tittied girlfriend named Gena, who gets transformed by her boyfriend's amulet from the old magic shop that turns her into an ideal mom and has sex with. Not only that, he will continue to change her any moms or MILFs he wants to fuck.
My name is Nicolas O'Donnell, but most people call me Nick or Nicky for short. I'm just some average handsome high school teenager who finished the boring semester and enjoys the summer with my lovely girlfriend, Gena. Gena and I have been friends since childhood, and we've been dating for almost 6 years now. Gena is a cute, pretty, smart, outgoing, and sexy girl in school. Not only that, we've been hooking up with each other ever since our parents were around, we even found a spot where no one disturbed us, and we were enjoying our time together like playing games, studying each other, and having sex. Our relationship had been great, but lately… something wasn’t right. Not our relationship, we're still together.
Ever since I found that weird amulet at the old shop called "Spell R Us", I couldn’t stop thinking about it, as I was curious and decided to buy it myself. The owner is an old man who sold it to me, had winked and whispered, “Ya know, kid. I never thought that one day, someone would buy this. This amulet will give ya whatever ya want, kid.” As the old man replied, honestly, I didn’t believe in magic—until now.
When my mom and dad are on their honeymoon, I get to invite my girlfriend to come over to spend our time together. For a while, Gena stretched across my bed in nothing but an old band tee and panties, her blonde hair splayed over my pillow. Her body was already incredible—those big E-cup tits spilled out the sides of her shirt, her waist curving just enough to drive me wild. But as I clutched the amulet in my pocket, staring at her while pretending to scroll on my phone like I was texting my friends. I remember what the old shopkeeper said to me, and I was about to try it out, so I imagined my girlfriend, Gena, being someone. Someone… older, old enough at my parents' age. Someone with T-cup tits that defied gravity, hips that swelled into a perfect hourglass, a voice like honey and motherly warmth.
“Babe, why you starin’ at me like that?” Gena giggled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Is there something wrong?"
“Oh no, it's nothing, Gena. I'm just admiring you and... um... enjoy the view,” I lied, my fingers continued squeezing the amulet tighter as I tried to focus on my s. “Here goes nothing, c'mon, change for me,” I thought, unsure if it was even real.
Then, she twitched.
A weird little shiver ran through Gena’s body. She frowned, rubbing her forehead. “Ugh,... what's happening to me?... why... do... I feel kinda… dizzy...”
I held my breath as I realized the moment of transformation had begun.
Her fingers drifted down, grazing her own breasts absentmindedly, and—holy shit—were they… swelling? Just slightly, but I could see them pushing against her thin shirt. The curve of her waist seemed to soften, her hips widening ever so slightly beneath the sheets.
“Nicky, ba... baby,” she murmured, her voice already deeper, huskier. “I don’t… I don’t feel like myself.”
I swallowed hard, my cock already pressing against my jeans. “It’s okay, Gena,” I whispered, crawling onto the bed beside her. “You’re just gonna be fine.”
Gena’s eyes fluttered—and changed. Her once-playful gaze turned softer, warmer, filled with an easy maturity. A crease formed between her brows, then smoothed out. Her lips—full and painted a soft pink before—turned a deeper shade, her mouth parting slightly as a strange, dazed recognition flickered across her face.
“Nicky… sweetheart?” she murmured, voice thick with sudden affection.
My heart pounded with excitement. It was working.
I reached out, letting my fingers brush her side—and gasped. Her skin was softer now, silkier, with the faintest touch of age smoothing over her. Her tits had risen higher, fuller, heavier, straining against the fabric of her shirt.
“Oh... my... god,...” I whispered, unable to stop.
She blinked slowly, then smiled—a warm, maternal smile—before her hand drifted up to cup my cheek. “Baby, you look tense,” she cooed. “Did you have a hard day?”
I shuddered. She thought, acted, and sounded like she was my mom all of a sudden.
But her transformation wasn’t done yet. The amulet was burning in my pocket now, pulsing with energy as her body shifted. Her E-Cup tits swelled impossibly larger, her shirt seams groaning before finally snapping, buttons pinging across the room as those massive T-cup mommy milkers spilled free.
“Oh my!” she gasped—her voice now deep, velvety—and looked down at herself. Her fingers traced over her new curves, her huge areolas darkening, her nipples stiffening. “Ohhh… I forgot how big I was.”
Her stomach had softened into a perfect little pooch, leading down to thickened thighs that could smother a man. Her face had aged—just enough—to show laugh lines, motherhood written in every new crease. Her blonde hair had darkened slightly, now streaked with a few silvery strands, swept into a loose, messy updo of a dirty blonde.
And most of all—she looks entirely different from what she was, and believed she was my mom.
Geraldine.
My new mommy, whom I always dream about.
Her eyes flicked down, spotting my raging hard-on, and she tutted—like this wasn’t the first time she’d caught me like this. “Nicky, really?” she sighed, shaking her head. “You know you shouldn’t be getting all worked up like this.”
I couldn’t take it. My hands shot up, groping her monstrously huge tits—so much bigger than before, so perfect—and she gasped, her cheeks flushing.
“Nicky! My, what are you doing to your mom, sweetie?” Gena,... or rather, Geraldine scolded, but she didn’t pull away. She's surprised when my hands reach out and cupping her massive tits. I knew—this was so much better than Gena. But I still love my girlfriend. Right now, I just want to enjoy my time with my "mom".
Gena gasped, her body felt sensitive to my touch. "Nicky... sweetie... you... you can't do that. I'm your mom."
I smiled, my thumbs brushing over her hard nipples. "I know, mom. I'm sorry, but I couldn't help myself."
Geraldine moaned, her eyes fluttering closed as my hands explored her body. I leaned down, my mouth capturing one of her nipples as he sucked it into my mouth. Geraldine cried out, her hands grasping my head as she held mine to her.
My hand slid down her body, slipping between her legs. I could feel her heat, her wetness, even through her panties. I hooked my fingers into the waistband, pulling them down and off her legs.
I sat up, straddling her hips as I looked down at her naked curvaceous hourglass body. My cock was hard, throbbing with need as I quickly shed my own clothes.
Gena looked up at me, her eyes filled with a mix of lust and confusion. "Nicky... baby... w... we can't do this. I'm your mom. And... what if your d... dad gets home and sees us like this.."
I smiled, my hands sliding up her thighs as I spread her legs wide. "I don't care, mom. And you know, even if you're my mom, I still love you."
With that, I slid my cock into her, her warm, wet pussy enveloping him completely. We both moaned, our bodies moving together in a dance as old as time.
Geraldine's massive breasts bounced with each thrust, her nipples hard and begging to be sucked. I leaned down, capturing one in my mouth as i continued to fuck her, my cock sliding in and out of her at a relentless pace.
Gena moaned, her head thrashing from side to side as she cried out, "Nicky... baby... we... have to stop... what if... someone... would..."
The more she moaned, the more horny I got, and I wasn't listening. I was too far gone, as my body was overcome with lust and desire. I fucked her harder, my cock pounding into her as I continued suck at her massive tits.
Geraldine's protests turned to moans of pleasure, her body shaking with each thrust. But she still tried to resist, her hands pushing at my chest as she begged me to stop.
I looked up at her, my eyes filled with determination. I captured her mouth in a searing kiss, my tongue sliding between her lips as I silenced her protests.
Gena-Geraldine moaned into my mouth, her body melting against mine as she gave in to her desires. When I finally pulled away, she looked up at me, her eyes filled with lust and need.
"You know what, baby," she murmured. "I think mommy love it, now fuck your momma like a slut."
I grinned, my cock throbbing with triumph. I sat back, grabbing her wide hips as I slammed into her, my cock pounding into her at a relentless pace.
Gena-Geraldine cried out, her massive breasts bouncing with each thrust as she moaned, "Yes, baby. Yes! Fuck your momma. Fuck me. Fuck me like a lover."
Our lovemaking was intense, our bodies slick with sweat as we moved together. When we finally cum, it was explosive, our bodies shaking with the intensity of our orgasms.
I collapsed on top of my ideal mom, Geraldine, my cock still buried deep inside her. She wrapped her arms around me, her hands stroking my back as she cooed softly to me.
"That's my boy," she murmured and giggled.
I grinned, my cock already hardening again at her words. I looked up at her, my eyes filled with love and lust.
"I love you, mom," he said, his voice filled with sincerity.
Gena-now-Geraldine smiled, her eyes filled with love. "I love you, too, sweety."
As we lay and cuddled there, our bodies entwined, I knew that this was just the beginning of my exciting transformation adventure. Gena might no longer just my girlfriend, she becomes my ideal MILF that I dreamed about. Maybe this transformation wasn't so bad after all. Perhaps, I could change her back, and then she doesn't remember any of it, or I could keep her this way until my parents get back.
To be continued…
My name is Nicolas O'Donnell, but most people call me Nick or Nicky for short. I'm just some average handsome high school teenager who finished the boring semester and enjoys the summer with my lovely girlfriend, Gena. Gena and I have been friends since childhood, and we've been dating for almost 6 years now. Gena is a cute, pretty, smart, outgoing, and sexy girl in school. Not only that, we've been hooking up with each other ever since our parents were around, we even found a spot where no one disturbed us, and we were enjoying our time together like playing games, studying each other, and having sex. Our relationship had been great, but lately… something wasn’t right. Not our relationship, we're still together.
Ever since I found that weird amulet at the old shop called "Spell R Us", I couldn’t stop thinking about it, as I was curious and decided to buy it myself. The owner is an old man who sold it to me, had winked and whispered, “Ya know, kid. I never thought that one day, someone would buy this. This amulet will give ya whatever ya want, kid.” As the old man replied, honestly, I didn’t believe in magic—until now.
When my mom and dad are on their honeymoon, I get to invite my girlfriend to come over to spend our time together. For a while, Gena stretched across my bed in nothing but an old band tee and panties, her blonde hair splayed over my pillow. Her body was already incredible—those big E-cup tits spilled out the sides of her shirt, her waist curving just enough to drive me wild. But as I clutched the amulet in my pocket, staring at her while pretending to scroll on my phone like I was texting my friends. I remember what the old shopkeeper said to me, and I was about to try it out, so I imagined my girlfriend, Gena, being someone. Someone… older, old enough at my parents' age. Someone with T-cup tits that defied gravity, hips that swelled into a perfect hourglass, a voice like honey and motherly warmth.
“Babe, why you starin’ at me like that?” Gena giggled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Is there something wrong?"
“Oh no, it's nothing, Gena. I'm just admiring you and... um... enjoy the view,” I lied, my fingers continued squeezing the amulet tighter as I tried to focus on my s. “Here goes nothing, c'mon, change for me,” I thought, unsure if it was even real.
Then, she twitched.
A weird little shiver ran through Gena’s body. She frowned, rubbing her forehead. “Ugh,... what's happening to me?... why... do... I feel kinda… dizzy...”
I held my breath as I realized the moment of transformation had begun.
Her fingers drifted down, grazing her own breasts absentmindedly, and—holy shit—were they… swelling? Just slightly, but I could see them pushing against her thin shirt. The curve of her waist seemed to soften, her hips widening ever so slightly beneath the sheets.
“Nicky, ba... baby,” she murmured, her voice already deeper, huskier. “I don’t… I don’t feel like myself.”
I swallowed hard, my cock already pressing against my jeans. “It’s okay, Gena,” I whispered, crawling onto the bed beside her. “You’re just gonna be fine.”
Gena’s eyes fluttered—and changed. Her once-playful gaze turned softer, warmer, filled with an easy maturity. A crease formed between her brows, then smoothed out. Her lips—full and painted a soft pink before—turned a deeper shade, her mouth parting slightly as a strange, dazed recognition flickered across her face.
“Nicky… sweetheart?” she murmured, voice thick with sudden affection.
My heart pounded with excitement. It was working.
I reached out, letting my fingers brush her side—and gasped. Her skin was softer now, silkier, with the faintest touch of age smoothing over her. Her tits had risen higher, fuller, heavier, straining against the fabric of her shirt.
“Oh... my... god,...” I whispered, unable to stop.
She blinked slowly, then smiled—a warm, maternal smile—before her hand drifted up to cup my cheek. “Baby, you look tense,” she cooed. “Did you have a hard day?”
I shuddered. She thought, acted, and sounded like she was my mom all of a sudden.
But her transformation wasn’t done yet. The amulet was burning in my pocket now, pulsing with energy as her body shifted. Her E-Cup tits swelled impossibly larger, her shirt seams groaning before finally snapping, buttons pinging across the room as those massive T-cup mommy milkers spilled free.
“Oh my!” she gasped—her voice now deep, velvety—and looked down at herself. Her fingers traced over her new curves, her huge areolas darkening, her nipples stiffening. “Ohhh… I forgot how big I was.”
Her stomach had softened into a perfect little pooch, leading down to thickened thighs that could smother a man. Her face had aged—just enough—to show laugh lines, motherhood written in every new crease. Her blonde hair had darkened slightly, now streaked with a few silvery strands, swept into a loose, messy updo of a dirty blonde.
And most of all—she looks entirely different from what she was, and believed she was my mom.
Geraldine.
My new mommy, whom I always dream about.
Her eyes flicked down, spotting my raging hard-on, and she tutted—like this wasn’t the first time she’d caught me like this. “Nicky, really?” she sighed, shaking her head. “You know you shouldn’t be getting all worked up like this.”
I couldn’t take it. My hands shot up, groping her monstrously huge tits—so much bigger than before, so perfect—and she gasped, her cheeks flushing.
“Nicky! My, what are you doing to your mom, sweetie?” Gena,... or rather, Geraldine scolded, but she didn’t pull away. She's surprised when my hands reach out and cupping her massive tits. I knew—this was so much better than Gena. But I still love my girlfriend. Right now, I just want to enjoy my time with my "mom".
Gena gasped, her body felt sensitive to my touch. "Nicky... sweetie... you... you can't do that. I'm your mom."
I smiled, my thumbs brushing over her hard nipples. "I know, mom. I'm sorry, but I couldn't help myself."
Geraldine moaned, her eyes fluttering closed as my hands explored her body. I leaned down, my mouth capturing one of her nipples as he sucked it into my mouth. Geraldine cried out, her hands grasping my head as she held mine to her.
My hand slid down her body, slipping between her legs. I could feel her heat, her wetness, even through her panties. I hooked my fingers into the waistband, pulling them down and off her legs.
I sat up, straddling her hips as I looked down at her naked curvaceous hourglass body. My cock was hard, throbbing with need as I quickly shed my own clothes.
Gena looked up at me, her eyes filled with a mix of lust and confusion. "Nicky... baby... w... we can't do this. I'm your mom. And... what if your d... dad gets home and sees us like this.."
I smiled, my hands sliding up her thighs as I spread her legs wide. "I don't care, mom. And you know, even if you're my mom, I still love you."
With that, I slid my cock into her, her warm, wet pussy enveloping him completely. We both moaned, our bodies moving together in a dance as old as time.
Geraldine's massive breasts bounced with each thrust, her nipples hard and begging to be sucked. I leaned down, capturing one in my mouth as i continued to fuck her, my cock sliding in and out of her at a relentless pace.
Gena moaned, her head thrashing from side to side as she cried out, "Nicky... baby... we... have to stop... what if... someone... would..."
The more she moaned, the more horny I got, and I wasn't listening. I was too far gone, as my body was overcome with lust and desire. I fucked her harder, my cock pounding into her as I continued suck at her massive tits.
Geraldine's protests turned to moans of pleasure, her body shaking with each thrust. But she still tried to resist, her hands pushing at my chest as she begged me to stop.
I looked up at her, my eyes filled with determination. I captured her mouth in a searing kiss, my tongue sliding between her lips as I silenced her protests.
Gena-Geraldine moaned into my mouth, her body melting against mine as she gave in to her desires. When I finally pulled away, she looked up at me, her eyes filled with lust and need.
"You know what, baby," she murmured. "I think mommy love it, now fuck your momma like a slut."
I grinned, my cock throbbing with triumph. I sat back, grabbing her wide hips as I slammed into her, my cock pounding into her at a relentless pace.
Gena-Geraldine cried out, her massive breasts bouncing with each thrust as she moaned, "Yes, baby. Yes! Fuck your momma. Fuck me. Fuck me like a lover."
Our lovemaking was intense, our bodies slick with sweat as we moved together. When we finally cum, it was explosive, our bodies shaking with the intensity of our orgasms.
I collapsed on top of my ideal mom, Geraldine, my cock still buried deep inside her. She wrapped her arms around me, her hands stroking my back as she cooed softly to me.
"That's my boy," she murmured and giggled.
I grinned, my cock already hardening again at her words. I looked up at her, my eyes filled with love and lust.
"I love you, mom," he said, his voice filled with sincerity.
Gena-now-Geraldine smiled, her eyes filled with love. "I love you, too, sweety."
As we lay and cuddled there, our bodies entwined, I knew that this was just the beginning of my exciting transformation adventure. Gena might no longer just my girlfriend, she becomes my ideal MILF that I dreamed about. Maybe this transformation wasn't so bad after all. Perhaps, I could change her back, and then she doesn't remember any of it, or I could keep her this way until my parents get back.
To be continued…
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Plot
Your body was stolen by a super busty Goth Girl. You now have to live her life. You find out you switched because her family was cursed to give their bodies to a stranger of the opposite sex on their 21st birthday. Emily just chose you at random.
Characters
Emily Lunawood: The goth girl who stole your body. She is wearing fishnet stockings, a short skirt with a black lace thong under it, a revealing top with a black lace bra under it and black high heels when she steals your body. She has black hair with red dyed tips, it goes to her waist.
You: An average looking man, you have brown hair and blue eyes. Your slightly muscular.
One moment, I was pressing my palm to the mirror, mesmerized by the way my reflection moved without me. The next—reality twisted, inverted. A dizzying lurch, and I was staring out from the glass at my own horrified face.
Oh God.
My body—Emily’s body now—was already backing away, her—my—lips curling into a smirk that felt alien on my features. "Enjoy the new life," she said in my voice, rolling my shoulders like she was testing them out. "Trust me, you’ll need it."
"Switch us back!" I snapped, but the words came out in her higher, smoother tone—hers now. My hands—slender, unfamiliar—clenched at my sides.
She just smirked, my smirk, and reached for the jacket I’d draped over the chair. "Check the purse, sweetheart. You’ll definitely want to." Then, with a wink that made my stomach twist, she was gone, the door slamming behind her before I could even think to chase her—me.
Nausea rolled through me as I grabbed the leather handbag by the dresser. My fingers fumbled with the zipper, shaking as I pulled out a wallet and flipped it open. Emily Lunawood. 21. 309 Cedar Lane.
The drive was a nightmare of panicked swerves and clumsy turns; the car, an automatic, felt foreign without my stick shift to grip. Her—my—apartment was all soft grays and jasmine in the air, pristine except for the open notebook on the kitchen counter.
A single note sat beside it, written in fluid, looping script.
Sorry to whoever is now me, it read, my family was cursed years ago. On the 21st birthday, we are forced to seek out someone of the opposite sex and give them our bodies. You will be given my memories the first night you sleep. Signed Emily Lunawood.
A bitter laugh clawed its way out of my throat. Of course. I thumbed open the notebook—passwords, addresses, even a meticulously planned gym schedule—before collapsing onto the couch, my (her) head in my (her) hands.
The bed was too plush, the sheets too silky, but exhaustion won out. I fell into the dark, and when dreams came, they weren’t mine.
They were hers—childhood summers, first heartbreaks, whispered family warnings that the curse had no loopholes, no way back. And worst of all? The unshakable knowledge that no one in the Lunawood bloodline had ever escaped it.
The first thing I registered as consciousness crawled back was the delicious ache between my thighs and the whisper of stockings against freshly shaved skin. My fingers—her fingers—traced the outline of fishnets stretched taut over smooth legs, the crisscross pattern pressing kisses into flesh that wasn’t mine. A gasp caught in my throat as I realized the skirt riding up was obscenely short, the lace of my thong riding high enough to tease at the curve of my—her—ass. The top barely contained the swell of cleavage spilling over a black lace bra, the fabric sheer enough to outline hardened nipples.
I shifted—God, even the movement felt different—and nearly toppled off the bed when the spiked heels caught in the sheets. My reflection in the vanity mirror was a punch to the gut: smudged eyeliner, swollen lips bitten red, black hair cascading over bare shoulders with crimson streaks blazing through it like warning flares.
And the worst part? The thrill zipping down my spine at how good it all felt.
I got up and went to a mirror.
The mirror showed me—her—in full, and I barely recognized the predatory amusement in my new eyes. My fingers trembled as they traced the curve of my waist, the dip of my collarbone, every unfamiliar contour both alien and intoxicating. The lace of my bra dug into soft flesh when I inhaled sharply, my nails biting crescents into my palms—just to feel something real.
A slow, involuntary roll of my hips sent a jolt through me—her body knew exactly what it wanted. The fishnets rasped against my thighs as I spread my legs slightly, just enough to feel the damp heat pooling where the thong cut in.
Jesus.
I watched in horrified fascination as my reflection’s tongue swiped over painted lips, my own breath coming faster as I fought the urge to slide a hand lower. This wasn’t me—
But the thought shattered when I arched my back experimentally, and the bra’s clasp strained against the motion. A whimper escaped me—high, breathy, embarrassingly feminine—as my nipple peaked tighter against the lace, the sensation so intense it nearly buckled my knees.
The purse Emily left gaped open on the bed, a glint of metal catching my eye. I reached for it with shaking fingers and pulled out a slim silver vibrator, still slick with—
Oh God, she’d been using this right before swapping us.
The realization burned through me hotter than shame. My reflection’s pupils blew wide as my thumb brushed the damp button, the device humming to life with a predatory purr. The sound alone dragged a moan from my throat—her throat.
I shouldn’t.
I couldn’t stop.
The vibrator pressed against my inner thigh, the vibrations rippling up through the fishnets like a live wire. Every rational thought short-circuited when I dragged it higher, the lace of my panties already soaked through.
The mirror showed it all—the way my hips jerked when the buzzing found my clit, the obscene glide of the toy through slick folds as I fucked myself with it in frantic, shallow thrusts.
"Fuck—fuck—" My voice was a broken thing, her voice, her pleasure, even as my mind screamed that this wasn’t right.
But God, it felt like heaven.
The orgasm hit like a train, my back slamming against the vanity as my legs gave out. Pleasure pulsed through me in dizzying waves, my reflection’s mouth slack with ecstasy, mascara streaking down flushed cheeks.
I slid to the floor, trembling, the vibrator still buzzing weakly against my thigh.
What the hell was I becoming?
The question pulsed through me like a second heartbeat as I stared at my reflection lips parted, chest rising and falling rapidly. The need to feel more, to explore this stolen flesh, burned hotter than reason.
The top was the first to go. I reached behind my neck to undo the clasp, letting the silky material pool around my waist before sliding it the rest of the way down.
With shaking hands, I reached up and tugged at the straps of the lace bra, seeing in the process a 42F tag. The fabric resisted for a moment before giving way, setting my full breasts free. They bounced slightly with the motion, nipples hardening immediately in the cool air. A shiver ran through me as my fingers brushed against one, the contact sending a jolt straight to my still-throbbing core.
The fishnets came next. I hooked my thumbs into the waistband, rolling them down with slow, deliberate movements. The material clung stubbornly, the crisscross pattern stretching then snapping back against my hips with each inch exposed. Smooth skin emerged beneath, freshly waxed and still tingling from earlier.
The thong was soaked through, the damp lace clinging obscenely when I finally shimmied out of it. My fingers trailed along the inside of my thighs before pausing at the apex - so smooth, so incredibly different. The scent of my own arousal filled the air as I tentatively spread my legs wider, watching in the mirror as the evidence of my pleasure glistened under soft light.
I ran trembling hands over my new body - from the dip of my waist up to cup my breasts, thumbs circling peaked nipples that responded eagerly to every touch. A breathy moan escaped my lips as one hand slid lower, fingertips brushing through damp curls before sinking into slick heat.
This isn't me.
This feels so good.
The contradictions warred in my mind even as my body arched into my own touch, hips rocking against my fingers with increasing urgency. The mirror showed it all - showed her - lost in pleasure, mouth open in silent ecstasy as fingers worked furiously between spread thighs.
When the wave crashed over me this time, I barely recognized my own scream.
The shower did nothing to wash away the surreal thrill of my stolen skin—every inch of Emily’s body still buzzed unnervingly under my touch. Steam fogged the mirror as I toweled off, deliberately running my (her) hands down the unfamiliar slope of narrow waist and curved hips. The face staring back—sharp cheekbones, violet eyes heavy with something darkly knowing—still sent a jolt through me.
I knotted the silk robe too tight, ignoring how it barely covered her thighs. Luckily thanks to her memories, I knew she didn't have any close relationships. I also knew that she would find me again soon, since the curse had a second component. The swapped individuals would fall in love and help continue the family line.
Emily—me now—had left more than just her lipsticks and half-used perfume. The sleek black phone buzzed beneath my fingers, unlocked by my—her—face. I swallowed hard. Time to take inventory of my new life.
Bank Account
The app opened instantly. I blinked.
$84,756.22
I actually laughed, sharp and disbelieving. Savings account? Another $312K. I tapped through transaction history—monthly deposits from something called Lunawood Holdings for $15K, along with smaller payments labeled consulting fees. What the hell kind of consulting did she do?
Social Media
The first tab I tapped was Instagram—her Instagram. My stomach clenched as the app loaded, revealing a digital shrine to seduction. The blue checkmark was inevitable. The bio burned into my retinas: 💋 Your Next Bad Decision 💋, all smirking lips and dangerous promise.
The feed was a slow, deliberate burn—no accidents here. Every shot was a masterclass in teasing control. Silk sheets tangled around one bare thigh, the shadow-dipped dip of her spine as she arched over a hotel balcony, a crimson-lacquered nail dragging down a champagne flute. No laughter, no adrenaline—just heat, simmering in every flick of her wrist, every half-lidded glance at the camera like she could already feel hands on her skin. The captions were sparse, deliberate: "Late nights only", "Tell me how badly you want it", "Good boys don't get to touch."
Every post wasn’t just a demand to look—it was a dare to want.
Twitter was a constant stream of punchy one-liners and suggestive stunt reels. TikTok was a minefield of temptation—short, scorching loops of Emily arching against silk bedsheets, biting her lower lip in teasing slow-motion, her fingers tracing idle circles over the lace hem of lingerie before cutting to black. No laughter, no wasted movement—just a half-second of exposed thigh, the barest glimpse of teeth grazing skin, all set to a pulse-heavy soundtrack that left you craving another replay. Every clip was a dare wrapped in five seconds of sin.
OnlyFans
The icon made my fingers hesitate. Of course she had one. I tapped it—password already saved—and nearly choked.
$27K last month. $42K the month before. A catalog of paywalled galleries—Mistress in Marble, Bondage & Breakfast, each one featuring me now, in poses so sinful my pulse stuttered. There I was, sprawled across black satin sheets, fingers tangled in my own hair as I arched toward the camera, lips parted just enough to tease. Another series showed me kneeling in thigh-high stockings, the garter straps biting into creamy skin while I stared down the lens with heavy-lidded authority.
Subscriptions
Then came the subscriptions. Of course she had every premium streaming service—Netflix, HBO, the works—but the real fun started scrolling down. Paid access to high-end porn sites, all sleek branding and "exclusive content." A membership to Velvet Orbit, some kind of luxury erotic streaming platform with thumbnails featuring tangled limbs under silk sheets and promises of "real couples, real desires."
I was closing out of the accounts when I heard it—three sharp raps against the bedroom wall, followed by two slower ones. A pattern. Deliberate.
My breath caught. That wasn’t the front door.
Emily’s memories surfaced like fragments of a dream—pressed against this same wall, her fingers finding the nearly invisible seam in the wallpaper, pushing just so—
A hidden door clicked open.
I froze as the panel swung inward, revealing a narrow passage barely wide enough for shoulders. And there, leaning against the frame with a smirk that matched the one I’d worn earlier, stood me.
My old body looked different now. The way he held himself was all Emily; the cocky tilt of his chin, the way his fingers drummed a lazy rhythm against his thigh. His shirt hung open, revealing the chest I used to know every scar and freckle of.
“Miss me already?” His voice was mine, but the cadence, the purr—hers.
“You—” My throat tightened. I hadn’t realized how much taller I used to be until I had to look up at myself.
“Uh-uh.” He wagged a finger—my finger—and stepped inside, the hidden door whispering shut behind him. “Rule one of the curse: no take-backs.” His gaze dragged over me, lingering where the robe gaped at my chest. “Though I do like what I see.”
A flush burned up my neck. “This isn’t funny.”
“Oh, it’s hilarious.” He prowled closer, close enough that I caught my old cologne on his skin. “I was hoping you’d find the toys first.” His grin widened as my cheeks heated. “Oh, you did.”
I backed up until the vanity dug into my spine. “Why are you here?”
His grin turned wicked as he leaned in, close enough for his borrowed lips to brush my ear. "Because you will be my bride and help continue the line as per the second half of the curse."
A few years later
The pain was unbearable—a searing, primal fire tearing through me with every contraction. My nails dug into the hospital bed sheets, sweat gluing Emily’s—no, mine now—long black hair to my face.
"You’re doing amazing," he murmured, squeezing my hand. Even now, with my old face lined with worry, the way he tilted his head was pure Emily—that same confident smirk tempered by something softer. The silver band on his finger glinted under the harsh hospital lights, matching the one nestled securely against my own ring finger.
"Shut up," I gasped, arching off the bed as another wave hit. "This is your fault.*"
He just chuckled, brushing damp strands back from my forehead. "Our family now, sweetheart." His thumb traced my knuckles. "And trust me, when you hold her, you won’t regret a damn thing."
The nurse between my legs looked up, grinning. "One more push, Mom. She’s right there."
I barely had time to scream before the pressure shattered into sudden, dizzying relief. A fragile, furious wail filled the room, and then—
Her.
Tiny. Perfect. Swaddled in a pink blanket and placed carefully against my chest, her little face scrunched up in outrage. Dark lashes fluttered against petal-soft cheeks, her miniature fingers curling reflexively around mine.
"Congratulations," the nurse murmured. "She’s beautiful."
I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe. The weight of her was terrifying, intoxicating—mine.
"She has your nose," he whispered, bending to press a kiss to my temple. His—my old—calloused finger traced the baby’s shock of dark hair. "But your mother’s eyes." His voice cracked. "God, look at her."
The baby blinked up at us, her tiny mouth working silently before she settled with a sigh. The monitors beeped steadily, the world narrowing to this moment—this impossible, inevitable moment.
I leaned back against the pillows, exhausted, euphoric, and met my husband’s gaze.
"Worth it?" he teased, wiping a tear from my cheek with his thumb.
I clutched our daughter tighter—the next in the Lunawood line—and laughed through the tears.
Your body was stolen by a super busty Goth Girl. You now have to live her life. You find out you switched because her family was cursed to give their bodies to a stranger of the opposite sex on their 21st birthday. Emily just chose you at random.
Characters
Emily Lunawood: The goth girl who stole your body. She is wearing fishnet stockings, a short skirt with a black lace thong under it, a revealing top with a black lace bra under it and black high heels when she steals your body. She has black hair with red dyed tips, it goes to her waist.
You: An average looking man, you have brown hair and blue eyes. Your slightly muscular.
One moment, I was pressing my palm to the mirror, mesmerized by the way my reflection moved without me. The next—reality twisted, inverted. A dizzying lurch, and I was staring out from the glass at my own horrified face.
Oh God.
My body—Emily’s body now—was already backing away, her—my—lips curling into a smirk that felt alien on my features. "Enjoy the new life," she said in my voice, rolling my shoulders like she was testing them out. "Trust me, you’ll need it."
"Switch us back!" I snapped, but the words came out in her higher, smoother tone—hers now. My hands—slender, unfamiliar—clenched at my sides.
She just smirked, my smirk, and reached for the jacket I’d draped over the chair. "Check the purse, sweetheart. You’ll definitely want to." Then, with a wink that made my stomach twist, she was gone, the door slamming behind her before I could even think to chase her—me.
Nausea rolled through me as I grabbed the leather handbag by the dresser. My fingers fumbled with the zipper, shaking as I pulled out a wallet and flipped it open. Emily Lunawood. 21. 309 Cedar Lane.
The drive was a nightmare of panicked swerves and clumsy turns; the car, an automatic, felt foreign without my stick shift to grip. Her—my—apartment was all soft grays and jasmine in the air, pristine except for the open notebook on the kitchen counter.
A single note sat beside it, written in fluid, looping script.
Sorry to whoever is now me, it read, my family was cursed years ago. On the 21st birthday, we are forced to seek out someone of the opposite sex and give them our bodies. You will be given my memories the first night you sleep. Signed Emily Lunawood.
A bitter laugh clawed its way out of my throat. Of course. I thumbed open the notebook—passwords, addresses, even a meticulously planned gym schedule—before collapsing onto the couch, my (her) head in my (her) hands.
The bed was too plush, the sheets too silky, but exhaustion won out. I fell into the dark, and when dreams came, they weren’t mine.
They were hers—childhood summers, first heartbreaks, whispered family warnings that the curse had no loopholes, no way back. And worst of all? The unshakable knowledge that no one in the Lunawood bloodline had ever escaped it.
The first thing I registered as consciousness crawled back was the delicious ache between my thighs and the whisper of stockings against freshly shaved skin. My fingers—her fingers—traced the outline of fishnets stretched taut over smooth legs, the crisscross pattern pressing kisses into flesh that wasn’t mine. A gasp caught in my throat as I realized the skirt riding up was obscenely short, the lace of my thong riding high enough to tease at the curve of my—her—ass. The top barely contained the swell of cleavage spilling over a black lace bra, the fabric sheer enough to outline hardened nipples.
I shifted—God, even the movement felt different—and nearly toppled off the bed when the spiked heels caught in the sheets. My reflection in the vanity mirror was a punch to the gut: smudged eyeliner, swollen lips bitten red, black hair cascading over bare shoulders with crimson streaks blazing through it like warning flares.
And the worst part? The thrill zipping down my spine at how good it all felt.
I got up and went to a mirror.
The mirror showed me—her—in full, and I barely recognized the predatory amusement in my new eyes. My fingers trembled as they traced the curve of my waist, the dip of my collarbone, every unfamiliar contour both alien and intoxicating. The lace of my bra dug into soft flesh when I inhaled sharply, my nails biting crescents into my palms—just to feel something real.
A slow, involuntary roll of my hips sent a jolt through me—her body knew exactly what it wanted. The fishnets rasped against my thighs as I spread my legs slightly, just enough to feel the damp heat pooling where the thong cut in.
Jesus.
I watched in horrified fascination as my reflection’s tongue swiped over painted lips, my own breath coming faster as I fought the urge to slide a hand lower. This wasn’t me—
But the thought shattered when I arched my back experimentally, and the bra’s clasp strained against the motion. A whimper escaped me—high, breathy, embarrassingly feminine—as my nipple peaked tighter against the lace, the sensation so intense it nearly buckled my knees.
The purse Emily left gaped open on the bed, a glint of metal catching my eye. I reached for it with shaking fingers and pulled out a slim silver vibrator, still slick with—
Oh God, she’d been using this right before swapping us.
The realization burned through me hotter than shame. My reflection’s pupils blew wide as my thumb brushed the damp button, the device humming to life with a predatory purr. The sound alone dragged a moan from my throat—her throat.
I shouldn’t.
I couldn’t stop.
The vibrator pressed against my inner thigh, the vibrations rippling up through the fishnets like a live wire. Every rational thought short-circuited when I dragged it higher, the lace of my panties already soaked through.
The mirror showed it all—the way my hips jerked when the buzzing found my clit, the obscene glide of the toy through slick folds as I fucked myself with it in frantic, shallow thrusts.
"Fuck—fuck—" My voice was a broken thing, her voice, her pleasure, even as my mind screamed that this wasn’t right.
But God, it felt like heaven.
The orgasm hit like a train, my back slamming against the vanity as my legs gave out. Pleasure pulsed through me in dizzying waves, my reflection’s mouth slack with ecstasy, mascara streaking down flushed cheeks.
I slid to the floor, trembling, the vibrator still buzzing weakly against my thigh.
What the hell was I becoming?
The question pulsed through me like a second heartbeat as I stared at my reflection lips parted, chest rising and falling rapidly. The need to feel more, to explore this stolen flesh, burned hotter than reason.
The top was the first to go. I reached behind my neck to undo the clasp, letting the silky material pool around my waist before sliding it the rest of the way down.
With shaking hands, I reached up and tugged at the straps of the lace bra, seeing in the process a 42F tag. The fabric resisted for a moment before giving way, setting my full breasts free. They bounced slightly with the motion, nipples hardening immediately in the cool air. A shiver ran through me as my fingers brushed against one, the contact sending a jolt straight to my still-throbbing core.
The fishnets came next. I hooked my thumbs into the waistband, rolling them down with slow, deliberate movements. The material clung stubbornly, the crisscross pattern stretching then snapping back against my hips with each inch exposed. Smooth skin emerged beneath, freshly waxed and still tingling from earlier.
The thong was soaked through, the damp lace clinging obscenely when I finally shimmied out of it. My fingers trailed along the inside of my thighs before pausing at the apex - so smooth, so incredibly different. The scent of my own arousal filled the air as I tentatively spread my legs wider, watching in the mirror as the evidence of my pleasure glistened under soft light.
I ran trembling hands over my new body - from the dip of my waist up to cup my breasts, thumbs circling peaked nipples that responded eagerly to every touch. A breathy moan escaped my lips as one hand slid lower, fingertips brushing through damp curls before sinking into slick heat.
This isn't me.
This feels so good.
The contradictions warred in my mind even as my body arched into my own touch, hips rocking against my fingers with increasing urgency. The mirror showed it all - showed her - lost in pleasure, mouth open in silent ecstasy as fingers worked furiously between spread thighs.
When the wave crashed over me this time, I barely recognized my own scream.
The shower did nothing to wash away the surreal thrill of my stolen skin—every inch of Emily’s body still buzzed unnervingly under my touch. Steam fogged the mirror as I toweled off, deliberately running my (her) hands down the unfamiliar slope of narrow waist and curved hips. The face staring back—sharp cheekbones, violet eyes heavy with something darkly knowing—still sent a jolt through me.
I knotted the silk robe too tight, ignoring how it barely covered her thighs. Luckily thanks to her memories, I knew she didn't have any close relationships. I also knew that she would find me again soon, since the curse had a second component. The swapped individuals would fall in love and help continue the family line.
Emily—me now—had left more than just her lipsticks and half-used perfume. The sleek black phone buzzed beneath my fingers, unlocked by my—her—face. I swallowed hard. Time to take inventory of my new life.
Bank Account
The app opened instantly. I blinked.
$84,756.22
I actually laughed, sharp and disbelieving. Savings account? Another $312K. I tapped through transaction history—monthly deposits from something called Lunawood Holdings for $15K, along with smaller payments labeled consulting fees. What the hell kind of consulting did she do?
Social Media
The first tab I tapped was Instagram—her Instagram. My stomach clenched as the app loaded, revealing a digital shrine to seduction. The blue checkmark was inevitable. The bio burned into my retinas: 💋 Your Next Bad Decision 💋, all smirking lips and dangerous promise.
The feed was a slow, deliberate burn—no accidents here. Every shot was a masterclass in teasing control. Silk sheets tangled around one bare thigh, the shadow-dipped dip of her spine as she arched over a hotel balcony, a crimson-lacquered nail dragging down a champagne flute. No laughter, no adrenaline—just heat, simmering in every flick of her wrist, every half-lidded glance at the camera like she could already feel hands on her skin. The captions were sparse, deliberate: "Late nights only", "Tell me how badly you want it", "Good boys don't get to touch."
Every post wasn’t just a demand to look—it was a dare to want.
Twitter was a constant stream of punchy one-liners and suggestive stunt reels. TikTok was a minefield of temptation—short, scorching loops of Emily arching against silk bedsheets, biting her lower lip in teasing slow-motion, her fingers tracing idle circles over the lace hem of lingerie before cutting to black. No laughter, no wasted movement—just a half-second of exposed thigh, the barest glimpse of teeth grazing skin, all set to a pulse-heavy soundtrack that left you craving another replay. Every clip was a dare wrapped in five seconds of sin.
OnlyFans
The icon made my fingers hesitate. Of course she had one. I tapped it—password already saved—and nearly choked.
$27K last month. $42K the month before. A catalog of paywalled galleries—Mistress in Marble, Bondage & Breakfast, each one featuring me now, in poses so sinful my pulse stuttered. There I was, sprawled across black satin sheets, fingers tangled in my own hair as I arched toward the camera, lips parted just enough to tease. Another series showed me kneeling in thigh-high stockings, the garter straps biting into creamy skin while I stared down the lens with heavy-lidded authority.
Subscriptions
Then came the subscriptions. Of course she had every premium streaming service—Netflix, HBO, the works—but the real fun started scrolling down. Paid access to high-end porn sites, all sleek branding and "exclusive content." A membership to Velvet Orbit, some kind of luxury erotic streaming platform with thumbnails featuring tangled limbs under silk sheets and promises of "real couples, real desires."
I was closing out of the accounts when I heard it—three sharp raps against the bedroom wall, followed by two slower ones. A pattern. Deliberate.
My breath caught. That wasn’t the front door.
Emily’s memories surfaced like fragments of a dream—pressed against this same wall, her fingers finding the nearly invisible seam in the wallpaper, pushing just so—
A hidden door clicked open.
I froze as the panel swung inward, revealing a narrow passage barely wide enough for shoulders. And there, leaning against the frame with a smirk that matched the one I’d worn earlier, stood me.
My old body looked different now. The way he held himself was all Emily; the cocky tilt of his chin, the way his fingers drummed a lazy rhythm against his thigh. His shirt hung open, revealing the chest I used to know every scar and freckle of.
“Miss me already?” His voice was mine, but the cadence, the purr—hers.
“You—” My throat tightened. I hadn’t realized how much taller I used to be until I had to look up at myself.
“Uh-uh.” He wagged a finger—my finger—and stepped inside, the hidden door whispering shut behind him. “Rule one of the curse: no take-backs.” His gaze dragged over me, lingering where the robe gaped at my chest. “Though I do like what I see.”
A flush burned up my neck. “This isn’t funny.”
“Oh, it’s hilarious.” He prowled closer, close enough that I caught my old cologne on his skin. “I was hoping you’d find the toys first.” His grin widened as my cheeks heated. “Oh, you did.”
I backed up until the vanity dug into my spine. “Why are you here?”
His grin turned wicked as he leaned in, close enough for his borrowed lips to brush my ear. "Because you will be my bride and help continue the line as per the second half of the curse."
A few years later
The pain was unbearable—a searing, primal fire tearing through me with every contraction. My nails dug into the hospital bed sheets, sweat gluing Emily’s—no, mine now—long black hair to my face.
"You’re doing amazing," he murmured, squeezing my hand. Even now, with my old face lined with worry, the way he tilted his head was pure Emily—that same confident smirk tempered by something softer. The silver band on his finger glinted under the harsh hospital lights, matching the one nestled securely against my own ring finger.
"Shut up," I gasped, arching off the bed as another wave hit. "This is your fault.*"
He just chuckled, brushing damp strands back from my forehead. "Our family now, sweetheart." His thumb traced my knuckles. "And trust me, when you hold her, you won’t regret a damn thing."
The nurse between my legs looked up, grinning. "One more push, Mom. She’s right there."
I barely had time to scream before the pressure shattered into sudden, dizzying relief. A fragile, furious wail filled the room, and then—
Her.
Tiny. Perfect. Swaddled in a pink blanket and placed carefully against my chest, her little face scrunched up in outrage. Dark lashes fluttered against petal-soft cheeks, her miniature fingers curling reflexively around mine.
"Congratulations," the nurse murmured. "She’s beautiful."
I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe. The weight of her was terrifying, intoxicating—mine.
"She has your nose," he whispered, bending to press a kiss to my temple. His—my old—calloused finger traced the baby’s shock of dark hair. "But your mother’s eyes." His voice cracked. "God, look at her."
The baby blinked up at us, her tiny mouth working silently before she settled with a sigh. The monitors beeped steadily, the world narrowing to this moment—this impossible, inevitable moment.
I leaned back against the pillows, exhausted, euphoric, and met my husband’s gaze.
"Worth it?" he teased, wiping a tear from my cheek with his thumb.
I clutched our daughter tighter—the next in the Lunawood line—and laughed through the tears.
body swap
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A father and his daughter rekindle their relationship.
There once was a time when my father and I were inseperable. My mother died when I was really young, so I barely even remember her. Looking at an old photo of her does not conjure any feelings of warmth or familiarity. It feels more like I’m looking at a stranger.
Ever since her death, my father has been raising me all by himself. He used to be a great dad; we basically did everything together. He also was super gentle, we were hugging and cuddling all the time. It was like we were superglued to each other. I especially loved the tickle fights we used to have when I was a child. By the end, my whole face would hurt from all the laughing.
But things changed around the time I hit puberty. Most of it was your usual teenage rebellion. Like every kid my age I wanted to establish an identity separate from my parent. So I dyed my naturally blonde hair pitch-black and really got into the goth scene. I just loved everything about it: the music, the aesthetic, and how perfectly it expressed my innermost feelings at the time. I started wearing black eyeliner, black nailpolish, black lipstick—the whole nine yards. I even wore chockers basically twenty-four seven. No more bright pink colors, no more “Daddy’s little girl”. I ran as far away from that as I possibly could.
This was also when my father started looking at me differently, which made me feel uneasy. And in response, I started looking at him differently. It seemed like he was not my rock anymore that I could hold onto when I felt most insecure. And as time went on he seemed to let himself go more and more. Maybe the grief of losing his wife, that he so bravely fought through initially, finally caught up to him. Eventually I came to see him as the normal, mortal man that he was. Gone was the halo surrounding the hero of my childhood. And gone was my knight in shiny armor protecting me from all the evil in the world.
During most of my teenage years my chest was really flat. I dressed as provocatively as I could, trying to show off what I didn’t have, as I felt that it went hand-in-hand with being a goth. But as I got older, I mellowed a bit on that whole thing, although I still like dyeing my hair black. Surprisingly, a year and a half ago I hit another growth spurt and my breasts basically exploded in size, so that now, at age nineteen, I have the full set of breasts that I wish I had when I was younger.
I still like to flaunt my assets when I am out partying with my friends, especially since I now have more to show for. I guess in some ways a part deep inside of me is still stuck in her teenage-rebellion phase. But at home I am all covered up. I only wear baggy clothes like sweaters and sweatpants, because I just do not want my father to see me like this. If his looks made me feel uneasy before, by now they started to creep me out.
The way he has been leering at me over the years has really soured our relationship, so much so that I loathe every second that I’m around him. He often complains that I’m always scowling at him, but at the same time he seems completely unaware of his own behavior. I long for the day when I am finally able to move out. I always wanted to be gone by the time I was eighteen, but I also wanted to go to college. Even though I am attending a local community college, it still cut into my savings. So I made the decision to just grin and bear it for a few more years.
Somehow all of these thoughts were swirling through my head, while I sat alone in my room, scrolling on my phone. Then there was a knock on my door. “What?” I yelled. “Claire Bear, sweety, it’s me.” Ugh, I hate it when he calls me that. “What do you want?” I said irritated. “Can you open up? I just wanna talk real quick.” Annoyed I stomped across my room.
“What is i—” As soon as I opened the door a waft of my father’s unwashed stench smacked me square in the face. The faint smell of a cheap cologne followed it like a bad aftertaste. When I looked up at his unshaven face, I saw his lips moving but I could only hear silence. Then the silence was pierced by a ringing in my ears and my mind turned cloudy. My eyes glazed over and I just stared blankly at my Dad.
Yes, my Dad. He was finally back. As I kept looking at him, the dirty old creep in front of me was slowly replaced with the shining image of my Daddy that I knew and loved growing up. Yes, my Daddy was finally back. My God, how I’ve missed him. He is finally all mine again. And I am all his. Pure bliss spread throughout my body as these thoughts filled my mind.
Somehow I seemed unable to move of my own accord, so Daddy guided me across the room. With a gentle push my lifeless body flopped onto the bed. I just laid there on my back, staring blankly at the ceiling. Then I felt my Daddy place his big, strong hands onto the swell of my breasts. He started kneading them through my thick sweater. My boobs felt like they were being tickled, but somehow different. Somehow better. It reminded me of the tickle fights we used to play. Oooh, I hope he is going to play tickle fight with me again. I would love that.
After some time of playing with my pliable mounds, Daddy slowly undressed me, beginning with my sweater and bra. When he pulled them off my arms just limply slumped back onto the bed. He then removed my sweatpants and panties, revealing that I was completely hairless. I hope he does not think that I am a naughty girl because of that. That would be terrible. I want to be a good girl for him. I want to make him proud.
Being handled by my Daddy like that made me feel so secure and relaxed. There was zero tension in my body. As he handled me this way and that way, my body simply lolled around like a doll. Yes, I would love to be Daddy’s precious little doll. Then he could dress me up all day long, just as he pleases. I would be his princess and he would only pay attention to me.
After he was done, I just laid there, naked, all for my Daddy to see. Even though I could only watch the ceiling, I could feel his eyes roaming all over my slim frame. Then he touched my bare skin, his hands gliding along my flat tummy. He soon found his way back to my boobs, squeezing them thoroughly, and even sucking on my rosy little nipples. I had been afraid that Daddy would not love me anymore now that I am a grown woman. But it made me happy to see that he still loved me after all those years.
Being loved by my Daddy like that made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I even felt all tingly down there. Somehow my Daddy noticed that, too, because he began to slowly rub me between my legs. All the excitement made me really slippery.
Suddenly, he got up. “No, Daddy,” I thought. “Don’t leave me. Please stay.” I was relieved when I felt him gently part my legs, which meant that he was still here.
Then—slowly—he … “Oh, yes, Daddy,” I cried inside my head. “I can feel you, Daddy. I can feel you inside of me.” Having Daddy show his love to me like that filled me with pure joy. Normally, I would have at least gasped or covered my eyes, but this time I simply laid there and did not make a noise. I wanted to show him my best behavior. He always taught me not to interrupt grown-ups when they are busy.
There was not even a single peep coming out of my mouth. My Daddy, though, made all sorts of funny noises. I guess showing your daughter how much you love her must be really tiring. But his hard work made me feel all good inside. And then my tummy felt really warm.
Poor Daddy, he must be really exhausted, because he collapsed right next to me. But even then he only seemed to think of me, because he gently caressed my face and played with my hair.
“Oh, Claire,” he sighed. “Why did you grow up so fast? And when did you become so mature? Where did my innocent little girl go?” “But I am right here, Daddy” I tried to say, but these words never escaped my lips. “I never left.” Maybe he cannot see that, because I’ve been such a terrible daughter to him. Alright, starting tomorrow I have to show Daddy that I am still a good girl.
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The next morning I felt great, like really well-rested. When I rummaged through my closet, looking for something to wear, I came across an old spaghetti strap top that I had not worn in ages. I actually had it since before my latest “growth spurt”, so it was just this tiny black thing. As I was holding it in my hands I felt the urge to just put it on.
Wearing it, I realized that it exposed my mid-riff, because there simply was not enough material to cover both my belly and my enormous chest. It clung so tightly to my body, it felt like I was wearing a second skin. I was stretching this little piece of fabric to its limit, it could have teared any moment. But somehow, wearing it felt just right.
I threw on a black pair of yoga pants and then gave myself a quick lookover in the mirror. I was all black, as usual. Except for my eyes, they were piercing blue. I always thought that they were the best part about myself. They even had a ring around the edge of my iris, which really made them pop.
Looking down I saw that my cleavage was on full display. That top really did not hide anything. I know I usually do not dress all that modestly, but damn, my boobs did look hot today. I bit my lip and gave the girls an appreciative squeeze. They were so soft and squishy that the flesh of my tits bulged out the second I ever so lightly pressed on them. Somehow I was getting a bit heated.
I managed to tear myself away from my boobs and turned around for a final inspection. Those yoga pants really showed off my tight little butt. It might not have been as big as my boobs, but it was still really cute.
I was all ready and set to attend my classes for the day, when, on my way out, I bumped into my Dad. “Hey, Dad,“ I said in a chipper mood. “Good morning, Claire Bear.” He looked me up and down and then gave me a strange smirk. “What?” I said with a quizzical look. “Do I have something on my face?” “No, it’s nothing,” he said shaking his head. “That was weird,” I thought. “It’s not like he hasn’t seen his own daughter before.” But at least he smelled better than usual.
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All day long people kept looking at me funny. In the past, I would not mind, but today it really bothered me. It reminded me of how my Dad used to look at me the last few years. Although I did not mind him this morning. Somehow I liked it. It made me feel reassured and confident. Like it did when I was a kid.
For the rest of the day I could not stop thinking about my Dad. I wondered why we ever grew apart. Maybe there was a way for us to reconnect. Maybe, if I took the first step and tried being nice to him, then we could start over again.
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In the evening I finally came home after a long, hard day of studying. Even though I wasn’t doing any physical labour, I still felt really grimy. I immediately hopped into a steaming hot show, where the water quickly washed away all my worries. I took my time lathering up as I enjoyed rinsing every nook and cranny of my body, giving it a nice, slick coat of soapy water.
Suddenly, someone ripped the shower curtain open. There stood my Dad, butt-naked and with a huge grin on his face. I instinctively covered my chest and my privates. I was about to scream when there was this ringing in my ears again. My arms dropped to my sides and dangled there limply. Why was I getting so upset? It is perfectly normal for my Daddy to see me naked. I mean, he has seen me like that since the day I was born. Also, there was nothing wrong for a daughter to see her father like that either, especially if he was as handsome as mine. Somehow, like yesterday, I could not move or say anything. It must have been because I was filled with so much joy seing my Daddy. I felt like a doll again. My Daddy’s doll.
He got in the shower with me and closed the curtains. When he embraced me, my boobs squished against his manly chest. I could feel his big, strong hands roaming all over my butt, firmly squeezing my cheeks. And then, as he kissed me tenderly, I melted in his arms. I was all his.
When my knees started to get weak, my Daddy turned me around, gave me a big hug from behind, and began kissing my neck. He felt so big as he was pressing into my backside. My Daddy must be the biggest in the whole wide world.
His hands struggled to get a hold of my slippery breasts. Every time he tried to squeeze them too tightly they escaped his grasp like two greasy little piggies.
He then bent me over, grabbed my hips, and made us become one again. With his strong grip around my wrists he started to show how much he loved me. My boobs jiggled wildly to the rhythm of our love. I never knew how much I love being used by my Daddy, like I was his own little toy.
Like yesterday, he made some funny grunting noises and then I could feel his love spread deep inside of me. At that moment I knew that we were going to be fine, that I could finally trust my Daddy again.
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For the next couple of weeks college was kicking my ass. My hair even started showing my blonde roots, since I did not have the time to dye them. Besides, I somehow felt like going back to my natural hair color, anyway. I spent all my time either at college, at home studying, or spending time with my Dad. We somehow slowly rekindled our relationship, even going so far as to hug or kiss each other on the cheek practically every day. Every time I left the house I made sure to tell him that I loved him. And he always told me that he loved me as well. I felt really blessed that we were back to our old ways.
One weekend I was still up late at night studying in my PJs. Well, calling it PJs was a bit much. It was actually just a tight, short-sleeve shirt and a pair of hot pants. I had to prepare for an upcoming test, although I had a hard time concentrating. There was a huge thunderstorm raging outside, which made me feel really queasy. It reminded me of the day my mother died.
Eventually, I decided to call it quits, since I could not keep my thoughts straight. I did not want to be alone at that moment, so I got up and sought out some company. Wandering through the house I found my Dad sitting on the living room couch, watching TV.
“D-Dad,” I said timidly. “Do you mind if I sit with you for a bit?” “Sure, sweety,” he said patting the place right next to him. “Make yourself comfortable.” I sat down, hugging my legs and resting my chin on my knees.
We spent a while just silently sitting next to each other. The TV barely covered the sound of the weather. Suddenly, a lightning strike lit up the entire living room, and then the power went out. A second later the deafening sound of thunder came crashing down on my ears. I cowered at the noise. Instinctively I threw myself against my Dad, tightly wrapping my arms around his waist. I nuzzled my face against his chest as I whimpered with fear. In response, he gave me a firm hug.
“There, there,” he whispered reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Daddy is here for you.” He gently stroked my head with one hand, while the other slowly found its way onto my butt. His manly smell was so intoxicating. I could even feel my nipples poking through my shirt. He must have felt it, too.
His hand slowly slid up along the side of my body until it reached my chest. Arriving there he cupped one off my boobs and gave it a gentle squeeze. “D-Dad, w-what are you doing?” I whimpered. “Ssshhhh, relax, Claire. Daddy, is going to make you feel all better.” I looked up at him with my big doe-eyes and nodded silently, my vision blurry from my tears. He gently laid me down onto the couch. Then he kissed me while at the same time fondling my chest.
He took a short break from kissing me to take off my shirt. I helped him along by lifting my arms. And while he hastily took off his own clothes, I slowly removed my tiny pair of pants. I really enjoyed how they were gliding along my smooth legs.
There we were. Just a father and his daughter. Naked as the day they were born. I blushed because of the way my Daddy looked at me. With just his eyes he told me how much he loved and wanted me. And I responded in kind, telling him how much I needed him. Inside of me.
I yelped, when, without a warning, he grabbed my waist and threw me around the couch. His display of strength and dominance made me ooze instantly. I landed face-first on the couch with my butt sticking up high in the air. Then he firmly grabbed my hips. I gasped as I felt him insert his thick meat into my creamy hole.
With every thrust my face smushed further and further into the cushions. It felt like his enormous girth was splitting me in half. Feeling him pump inside of me was the most intensly magical sensation I had ever felt in my life. It was so overwhelming, I almost blacked out.
“Oh, yes. Daddy!” I screamed. “Harder! Harder!”. My exclamation must have sent him over the edge, as I first felt a pulse rushing through his errection and then he suddenly exploded, coating my insides with his sticky goo. My body responded with several shockwaves, making me tremble and roar with pleasure. I clamped down on him, milking his shaft for every drop of his seed. My greedy hole made sure to swallow it all, being careful not to spill any of it.
For a while, we just laid there, sweaty and out of breath. After recovering a bit, I snuggled up against him so that his strong arms could embrace me. Then we shared a deep, loving kiss. At that moment I never wanted to be separated from my Daddy ever again.
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Over the last several months the relationship between me and my Daddy has gotten better than I could have ever imagined. We now show how much we love each other every day so that we will never grow apart again. And that ringing that I used to hear almost every time we made love is now completely gone.
I am even back to my natural hair color. Although I had to cut it a bit short to get rid of all the residual dye. Which is a bummer since I love it when he pulls on my pigtails.
We are just like we were back when I was a kid. Except: we are much closer now. Closer than we ever had been before. Closer than any father and daughter ever will be. But one thing will never change: I will always be my Daddy’s girl … until the end.
There once was a time when my father and I were inseperable. My mother died when I was really young, so I barely even remember her. Looking at an old photo of her does not conjure any feelings of warmth or familiarity. It feels more like I’m looking at a stranger.
Ever since her death, my father has been raising me all by himself. He used to be a great dad; we basically did everything together. He also was super gentle, we were hugging and cuddling all the time. It was like we were superglued to each other. I especially loved the tickle fights we used to have when I was a child. By the end, my whole face would hurt from all the laughing.
But things changed around the time I hit puberty. Most of it was your usual teenage rebellion. Like every kid my age I wanted to establish an identity separate from my parent. So I dyed my naturally blonde hair pitch-black and really got into the goth scene. I just loved everything about it: the music, the aesthetic, and how perfectly it expressed my innermost feelings at the time. I started wearing black eyeliner, black nailpolish, black lipstick—the whole nine yards. I even wore chockers basically twenty-four seven. No more bright pink colors, no more “Daddy’s little girl”. I ran as far away from that as I possibly could.
This was also when my father started looking at me differently, which made me feel uneasy. And in response, I started looking at him differently. It seemed like he was not my rock anymore that I could hold onto when I felt most insecure. And as time went on he seemed to let himself go more and more. Maybe the grief of losing his wife, that he so bravely fought through initially, finally caught up to him. Eventually I came to see him as the normal, mortal man that he was. Gone was the halo surrounding the hero of my childhood. And gone was my knight in shiny armor protecting me from all the evil in the world.
During most of my teenage years my chest was really flat. I dressed as provocatively as I could, trying to show off what I didn’t have, as I felt that it went hand-in-hand with being a goth. But as I got older, I mellowed a bit on that whole thing, although I still like dyeing my hair black. Surprisingly, a year and a half ago I hit another growth spurt and my breasts basically exploded in size, so that now, at age nineteen, I have the full set of breasts that I wish I had when I was younger.
I still like to flaunt my assets when I am out partying with my friends, especially since I now have more to show for. I guess in some ways a part deep inside of me is still stuck in her teenage-rebellion phase. But at home I am all covered up. I only wear baggy clothes like sweaters and sweatpants, because I just do not want my father to see me like this. If his looks made me feel uneasy before, by now they started to creep me out.
The way he has been leering at me over the years has really soured our relationship, so much so that I loathe every second that I’m around him. He often complains that I’m always scowling at him, but at the same time he seems completely unaware of his own behavior. I long for the day when I am finally able to move out. I always wanted to be gone by the time I was eighteen, but I also wanted to go to college. Even though I am attending a local community college, it still cut into my savings. So I made the decision to just grin and bear it for a few more years.
Somehow all of these thoughts were swirling through my head, while I sat alone in my room, scrolling on my phone. Then there was a knock on my door. “What?” I yelled. “Claire Bear, sweety, it’s me.” Ugh, I hate it when he calls me that. “What do you want?” I said irritated. “Can you open up? I just wanna talk real quick.” Annoyed I stomped across my room.
“What is i—” As soon as I opened the door a waft of my father’s unwashed stench smacked me square in the face. The faint smell of a cheap cologne followed it like a bad aftertaste. When I looked up at his unshaven face, I saw his lips moving but I could only hear silence. Then the silence was pierced by a ringing in my ears and my mind turned cloudy. My eyes glazed over and I just stared blankly at my Dad.
Yes, my Dad. He was finally back. As I kept looking at him, the dirty old creep in front of me was slowly replaced with the shining image of my Daddy that I knew and loved growing up. Yes, my Daddy was finally back. My God, how I’ve missed him. He is finally all mine again. And I am all his. Pure bliss spread throughout my body as these thoughts filled my mind.
Somehow I seemed unable to move of my own accord, so Daddy guided me across the room. With a gentle push my lifeless body flopped onto the bed. I just laid there on my back, staring blankly at the ceiling. Then I felt my Daddy place his big, strong hands onto the swell of my breasts. He started kneading them through my thick sweater. My boobs felt like they were being tickled, but somehow different. Somehow better. It reminded me of the tickle fights we used to play. Oooh, I hope he is going to play tickle fight with me again. I would love that.
After some time of playing with my pliable mounds, Daddy slowly undressed me, beginning with my sweater and bra. When he pulled them off my arms just limply slumped back onto the bed. He then removed my sweatpants and panties, revealing that I was completely hairless. I hope he does not think that I am a naughty girl because of that. That would be terrible. I want to be a good girl for him. I want to make him proud.
Being handled by my Daddy like that made me feel so secure and relaxed. There was zero tension in my body. As he handled me this way and that way, my body simply lolled around like a doll. Yes, I would love to be Daddy’s precious little doll. Then he could dress me up all day long, just as he pleases. I would be his princess and he would only pay attention to me.
After he was done, I just laid there, naked, all for my Daddy to see. Even though I could only watch the ceiling, I could feel his eyes roaming all over my slim frame. Then he touched my bare skin, his hands gliding along my flat tummy. He soon found his way back to my boobs, squeezing them thoroughly, and even sucking on my rosy little nipples. I had been afraid that Daddy would not love me anymore now that I am a grown woman. But it made me happy to see that he still loved me after all those years.
Being loved by my Daddy like that made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I even felt all tingly down there. Somehow my Daddy noticed that, too, because he began to slowly rub me between my legs. All the excitement made me really slippery.
Suddenly, he got up. “No, Daddy,” I thought. “Don’t leave me. Please stay.” I was relieved when I felt him gently part my legs, which meant that he was still here.
Then—slowly—he … “Oh, yes, Daddy,” I cried inside my head. “I can feel you, Daddy. I can feel you inside of me.” Having Daddy show his love to me like that filled me with pure joy. Normally, I would have at least gasped or covered my eyes, but this time I simply laid there and did not make a noise. I wanted to show him my best behavior. He always taught me not to interrupt grown-ups when they are busy.
There was not even a single peep coming out of my mouth. My Daddy, though, made all sorts of funny noises. I guess showing your daughter how much you love her must be really tiring. But his hard work made me feel all good inside. And then my tummy felt really warm.
Poor Daddy, he must be really exhausted, because he collapsed right next to me. But even then he only seemed to think of me, because he gently caressed my face and played with my hair.
“Oh, Claire,” he sighed. “Why did you grow up so fast? And when did you become so mature? Where did my innocent little girl go?” “But I am right here, Daddy” I tried to say, but these words never escaped my lips. “I never left.” Maybe he cannot see that, because I’ve been such a terrible daughter to him. Alright, starting tomorrow I have to show Daddy that I am still a good girl.
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The next morning I felt great, like really well-rested. When I rummaged through my closet, looking for something to wear, I came across an old spaghetti strap top that I had not worn in ages. I actually had it since before my latest “growth spurt”, so it was just this tiny black thing. As I was holding it in my hands I felt the urge to just put it on.
Wearing it, I realized that it exposed my mid-riff, because there simply was not enough material to cover both my belly and my enormous chest. It clung so tightly to my body, it felt like I was wearing a second skin. I was stretching this little piece of fabric to its limit, it could have teared any moment. But somehow, wearing it felt just right.
I threw on a black pair of yoga pants and then gave myself a quick lookover in the mirror. I was all black, as usual. Except for my eyes, they were piercing blue. I always thought that they were the best part about myself. They even had a ring around the edge of my iris, which really made them pop.
Looking down I saw that my cleavage was on full display. That top really did not hide anything. I know I usually do not dress all that modestly, but damn, my boobs did look hot today. I bit my lip and gave the girls an appreciative squeeze. They were so soft and squishy that the flesh of my tits bulged out the second I ever so lightly pressed on them. Somehow I was getting a bit heated.
I managed to tear myself away from my boobs and turned around for a final inspection. Those yoga pants really showed off my tight little butt. It might not have been as big as my boobs, but it was still really cute.
I was all ready and set to attend my classes for the day, when, on my way out, I bumped into my Dad. “Hey, Dad,“ I said in a chipper mood. “Good morning, Claire Bear.” He looked me up and down and then gave me a strange smirk. “What?” I said with a quizzical look. “Do I have something on my face?” “No, it’s nothing,” he said shaking his head. “That was weird,” I thought. “It’s not like he hasn’t seen his own daughter before.” But at least he smelled better than usual.
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All day long people kept looking at me funny. In the past, I would not mind, but today it really bothered me. It reminded me of how my Dad used to look at me the last few years. Although I did not mind him this morning. Somehow I liked it. It made me feel reassured and confident. Like it did when I was a kid.
For the rest of the day I could not stop thinking about my Dad. I wondered why we ever grew apart. Maybe there was a way for us to reconnect. Maybe, if I took the first step and tried being nice to him, then we could start over again.
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In the evening I finally came home after a long, hard day of studying. Even though I wasn’t doing any physical labour, I still felt really grimy. I immediately hopped into a steaming hot show, where the water quickly washed away all my worries. I took my time lathering up as I enjoyed rinsing every nook and cranny of my body, giving it a nice, slick coat of soapy water.
Suddenly, someone ripped the shower curtain open. There stood my Dad, butt-naked and with a huge grin on his face. I instinctively covered my chest and my privates. I was about to scream when there was this ringing in my ears again. My arms dropped to my sides and dangled there limply. Why was I getting so upset? It is perfectly normal for my Daddy to see me naked. I mean, he has seen me like that since the day I was born. Also, there was nothing wrong for a daughter to see her father like that either, especially if he was as handsome as mine. Somehow, like yesterday, I could not move or say anything. It must have been because I was filled with so much joy seing my Daddy. I felt like a doll again. My Daddy’s doll.
He got in the shower with me and closed the curtains. When he embraced me, my boobs squished against his manly chest. I could feel his big, strong hands roaming all over my butt, firmly squeezing my cheeks. And then, as he kissed me tenderly, I melted in his arms. I was all his.
When my knees started to get weak, my Daddy turned me around, gave me a big hug from behind, and began kissing my neck. He felt so big as he was pressing into my backside. My Daddy must be the biggest in the whole wide world.
His hands struggled to get a hold of my slippery breasts. Every time he tried to squeeze them too tightly they escaped his grasp like two greasy little piggies.
He then bent me over, grabbed my hips, and made us become one again. With his strong grip around my wrists he started to show how much he loved me. My boobs jiggled wildly to the rhythm of our love. I never knew how much I love being used by my Daddy, like I was his own little toy.
Like yesterday, he made some funny grunting noises and then I could feel his love spread deep inside of me. At that moment I knew that we were going to be fine, that I could finally trust my Daddy again.
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For the next couple of weeks college was kicking my ass. My hair even started showing my blonde roots, since I did not have the time to dye them. Besides, I somehow felt like going back to my natural hair color, anyway. I spent all my time either at college, at home studying, or spending time with my Dad. We somehow slowly rekindled our relationship, even going so far as to hug or kiss each other on the cheek practically every day. Every time I left the house I made sure to tell him that I loved him. And he always told me that he loved me as well. I felt really blessed that we were back to our old ways.
One weekend I was still up late at night studying in my PJs. Well, calling it PJs was a bit much. It was actually just a tight, short-sleeve shirt and a pair of hot pants. I had to prepare for an upcoming test, although I had a hard time concentrating. There was a huge thunderstorm raging outside, which made me feel really queasy. It reminded me of the day my mother died.
Eventually, I decided to call it quits, since I could not keep my thoughts straight. I did not want to be alone at that moment, so I got up and sought out some company. Wandering through the house I found my Dad sitting on the living room couch, watching TV.
“D-Dad,” I said timidly. “Do you mind if I sit with you for a bit?” “Sure, sweety,” he said patting the place right next to him. “Make yourself comfortable.” I sat down, hugging my legs and resting my chin on my knees.
We spent a while just silently sitting next to each other. The TV barely covered the sound of the weather. Suddenly, a lightning strike lit up the entire living room, and then the power went out. A second later the deafening sound of thunder came crashing down on my ears. I cowered at the noise. Instinctively I threw myself against my Dad, tightly wrapping my arms around his waist. I nuzzled my face against his chest as I whimpered with fear. In response, he gave me a firm hug.
“There, there,” he whispered reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Daddy is here for you.” He gently stroked my head with one hand, while the other slowly found its way onto my butt. His manly smell was so intoxicating. I could even feel my nipples poking through my shirt. He must have felt it, too.
His hand slowly slid up along the side of my body until it reached my chest. Arriving there he cupped one off my boobs and gave it a gentle squeeze. “D-Dad, w-what are you doing?” I whimpered. “Ssshhhh, relax, Claire. Daddy, is going to make you feel all better.” I looked up at him with my big doe-eyes and nodded silently, my vision blurry from my tears. He gently laid me down onto the couch. Then he kissed me while at the same time fondling my chest.
He took a short break from kissing me to take off my shirt. I helped him along by lifting my arms. And while he hastily took off his own clothes, I slowly removed my tiny pair of pants. I really enjoyed how they were gliding along my smooth legs.
There we were. Just a father and his daughter. Naked as the day they were born. I blushed because of the way my Daddy looked at me. With just his eyes he told me how much he loved and wanted me. And I responded in kind, telling him how much I needed him. Inside of me.
I yelped, when, without a warning, he grabbed my waist and threw me around the couch. His display of strength and dominance made me ooze instantly. I landed face-first on the couch with my butt sticking up high in the air. Then he firmly grabbed my hips. I gasped as I felt him insert his thick meat into my creamy hole.
With every thrust my face smushed further and further into the cushions. It felt like his enormous girth was splitting me in half. Feeling him pump inside of me was the most intensly magical sensation I had ever felt in my life. It was so overwhelming, I almost blacked out.
“Oh, yes. Daddy!” I screamed. “Harder! Harder!”. My exclamation must have sent him over the edge, as I first felt a pulse rushing through his errection and then he suddenly exploded, coating my insides with his sticky goo. My body responded with several shockwaves, making me tremble and roar with pleasure. I clamped down on him, milking his shaft for every drop of his seed. My greedy hole made sure to swallow it all, being careful not to spill any of it.
For a while, we just laid there, sweaty and out of breath. After recovering a bit, I snuggled up against him so that his strong arms could embrace me. Then we shared a deep, loving kiss. At that moment I never wanted to be separated from my Daddy ever again.
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Over the last several months the relationship between me and my Daddy has gotten better than I could have ever imagined. We now show how much we love each other every day so that we will never grow apart again. And that ringing that I used to hear almost every time we made love is now completely gone.
I am even back to my natural hair color. Although I had to cut it a bit short to get rid of all the residual dye. Which is a bummer since I love it when he pulls on my pigtails.
We are just like we were back when I was a kid. Except: we are much closer now. Closer than we ever had been before. Closer than any father and daughter ever will be. But one thing will never change: I will always be my Daddy’s girl … until the end.
mind control
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A story about a reverse body hopper and her family.
Katelyn
My family sucks. I do love them, but sometimes they just suck. Thanks to them my life is usually a total mess. You see, I’m a reverse body hopper. What that means is, my family can possess my body so long as they collide with me at a high enough velocity. I then black out completely and wake up again whenever they decide to leave. Thank God this only works with my family and not with total strangers or my life would be over.
They constantly just take my body, and even when they ask they just keep begging and pleading until I finally give in. Well, the only exception is my Dad. He is just the greatest. He’s never even asked to take over my body. In fact, I’ve asked him to hop me before. He would often take over for me when I was sick or when my period was really bad. He’s the only one I can trust to take care of me and respect my body.
I mean, despite how that all sounds, they do love me, I know they do. That’s why they always try to make it up to me, by buying me gifts or doing stuff for me, like chores and my homework, or hitting the gym. I just wish I could spend some time around my family in peace and simply enjoy their company.
When I talk to my friends about it they make a way big of a deal out of it. It’s not like I feel violated or anything, more like just tired and annoyed. I’m probably just so used to it, even though I shouldn’t be, because it’s been going on for so long, longer that I can even remember. Sometimes it makes me feel like public property, like a shared family car that everyone wants to take for a ride. I can’t even imagine the countless amount of hours of my life that I lost to them.
But I guess it’s gotten better since I moved out, simply for the fact that I’m now out of their reach. Although that still doesn’t stop them from asking if they could borrow “me” for a while. Well, at least it’s easier to say “no” over the phone or via text. And as an added bonus, I don’t have to take the pill anymore. I never liked taking it as it messes with my hormones too much. I only took it as a safety precaution so that my family couldn’t do anything too stupid while they were inside of me.
Actually, it’s been a while since I visited my family, ’cause I’ve been so busy at work. I haven’t met all of them yet, since I arrived at my parent’s house very late last night. So far, I’ve only got to meet Mom and Dad. Maybe I’ll see Robby and Chloe at breakfast or whenever they decide to get up.
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Waking up from my daydream, I realized that I had been in the shower for way too long. I turned off the water, reached for my towel, and began drying myself off. I always hated that part, because it made me miss the bliss and warmth of the hot water. Afterwards I got out of the shower and wrapped the towel tightly around my body. Then I stepped into hallway, closed the door behind myself and—
Robert
“Hihi. Welcome home, ‘sis’”, I giggled in my sister’s voice. I quickly flitted off to her room and tightly locked the door behind me. I immediately dropped the towel that “I” was wearing, revealing my older sister’s body in all her naked glory. “Oh, ‘Katy’. You can’t imagine how much I missed ‘you’”, I said, giving “myself” a big hug, squishing my sister’s enormous chest in the process.
I sauntered over to Katy’s full-length mirror, enjoying the sway of her hips with every step. I thoroughly looked her over from head to toe. Her body was simply perfect. Especially her boobs. “Man, I just love your huge rack,“ I told my “sister” while giving her giant globes a firm squeeze. I just couldn’t help myself.
It’s not like I have the hots for my sister. To me, her mind and her body are two separate things. It’s just an unfortunate coincidence that she happened to be a reverse body hopper. I mean, I don’t have a thing for my younger sister or my mom. But then again, neither of them are reverse hoppers.
By now, I’ve hopped my sister so often, that to me it doesn’t really feel like I’m wearing her body. It just feels like I’m being me—a different me. I’ve hopped her since I was a child, even before I hit puberty. The first time was a total accident, and back then she found it cute and adorable, maybe because I was, and also because she was always pretty motherly towards me; she’s my older sister after all. But ever since we, especially I, hit puberty, she disliked me hopping her more and more.
I guess it was bad timing that I discovered her ability when I did, which is probably the reason why I am attracted to her body. In a way you could say that we developed alongside each other, even though she had a two-year headstart. I mean, not many people get to experience growing up both as a boy and a girl, and in more than one way I am thankful for that. Because of her I know what it feels like to become a woman and I think that made us closer than any other siblings. Over the years, I got to experience the swelling of her breasts and the widening of her hips, among other things. And I always loved how her body felt so much softer. Maybe I was secretly envious of that, or maybe I just enjoyed the feeling, I don’t even know.
Nevertheless, I’m a guy afterall and as a hormonal teenager I took advantage of that unique opportunity every way I could. My sister is the reason why, so far, I’ve only dated girls who are slightly older than me. I hopped her way more often than she even knows. There were times when I would sneak into her bedroom almost every. Thankfully, now that I’m older and in college, I have myself much better under control. Although it’s still hard to resist hopping her sometimes. But then again, that whole experience really taught me how to please a woman.
I’m ashamed to admit it, but a few weeks ago I even had sex with her when our little sister was wearing her. I just couldn’t help myself. The combination of my preexisting attraction to her body and my little sister coming on to me was simply too much for me not to give in. To this day, it was still the best sex I ever had. Sometimes, when the sex with a girlfriend gets a little boring, I imagine my sister in her place, which always perks me up again. One time I even accidentally said her name, which was the end of that relationship.
By now, “I” was already dripping wet as I had been rubbing “my” crotch and massaging “my” breasts the whole time I stood in front of the mirror. Feeling that my knees were getting weak, I hurried over and threw myself onto Katy’s bed. There I really went at it by reaching deep inside of my sister’s hole and groping her boobs and tweaking her nipples. I planned on giving her a warm welcome-home present, so I kept frantically sloshing two of her fingers in and out of her dripping wet cunt. After a few minutes of expert stimulation, I felt that her body was on the cusp of an orgasm and abruptly jumped out of her.
Katelyn
Like so many times before, I suddenly woke up in my room. I was lying on my bed, one hand clutching my breast, the other burried inside of me, the latter keept penetrating me, seemingly all on its own. Without a warning, a wave of pleasure hit me. A warm tingling bloomed between my legs and then ratiated outwards, coursing through my entire body. It all happened so fast, I couldn’t stop myself from letting out a long, high-pitched moan. The sudden and intense pleasure made me squirt so much, I soiled both my hand and my bedsheets.
“Welcome home, sis,” my brother laughed with a big, dirty grin plastered across his face. “Robby, you asshole!” I yelled at him. As I pulled my hand from my vagina, strings of the gooey slime that coated my fingers followed it. “Ew, you’re such a disgusting pig.” “Why? Don’t you like your ‘present’?” he asked while he made a run for the door. “You could’ve at least cleaned up after yourself,” I tried to call after him, but he had already fled my room. “Great. Now I have to take another shower.”
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All clean again, I joined my parents at the breakfast table. The table was overflowing with food as my Mom had really gone all out to celebrate my long-awaited return home. “Did you sleep well, honey?” my mother asked. “Oh, yes, fantastic. It felt really great to sleep in my old bed again,” I said while I loaded my plate with waffles and fruits. “What was all that ruckus about earlier?” my father grumbled. “Just Robby being the prick that he usually is.” “Hmpf. I guess I need to have a word with him later.”
“Katyyyyy!” I heard my little sister yell as she ran towards me. I hadn’t even managed to get the first bite of my breakfast when she already gave me a big hug. “Oh, you don’t know how much I missed you, sis!” “Did you really miss me or just my body?” I retorted. “Of course I missed you, silly. You’re my favorite sister.” “I’m your only sister,” I interjected. “Right. But since you brought it up: can I borrow ‘you’ today? Just for this morning, I promise. It’s been way too long since the last time.”
“Leave your sister alone, Chloe,” my Dad commanded. “You’ll make her feel not welcome in her own home. No wonder she is hardly here.” “Oh, she doesn’t mind, Daddy. Right sis?” she said, looking at me with her huge puppy dog eyes. “Yes, I do.” “Come on, Katy. Please? Just for a little bit!” “No,” I responded flatly. “Pleeeeeaaaase. I’ll even go to the gym for you. Remember how much you hate doing that?” “No, I don’t. You’re just making shit up. But, hmm, well. It’s been forever since I had any form of exercise. Work kept me really busy lately,” I pondered aloud. “Pretty please?” she said pouting her lips. “Ugh, fine, I guess,” I reletend. Chloe squealed in response.
“Sweety,” my Mom interjected timidly. “I’m sorry, this might be bad timing and come off as rude, but would you mind if tonight—”. “Yes, yes, it’s fine,” I interrupted her annoyed. “You can all ‘borrow’ my body. But get it out of your systems today, ’cause there will be no hopping tomorrow! I—”
Chloe
“Chloe!” my Mom scolded me. “You could have at least let your sister eat breakfast herself,”. “But Moooom,” I whined in my older sister’s voice. “You heard her. She said it was okay.” I wolfed down my sister’s breakfast as fast as I could and then raced up the stairs and into Katy’s room, leaving my speechless parents behind.
Finally behind closed doors I began rubbing my sister’s flat belly. I loved doing that so much, her pussy always immediately begins to tingle in response. Unfortunately, I wasn’t as blessed in the looks departement as my older sister was. As far back as I can remember I have been chubby. And with each year, it’s gotten worse. I can’t seem to lose weight, no matter what I try. Which makes me feel jealous of her sometimes, even though I know that it isn’t her fault.
In contrast to mine, her body is really slim and always feels so light and full of energy. It even makes going to the gym a lot of fun. In my own body it is just pure torture. And the reactions I get from other people are just so different. When I’m her, people seem to adore me, but when I’m myself, they seem to despise me. Even though I’m the same person; only my looks change.
That’s the main reason why I’ve been hopping her since I was little. Also, being in her body always made me feel so mature and grown-up. I always felt especially proud when I was wearing her big boobs. I loved showing them off and catching someone trying to secretly glance at them (or sometimes even outright staring). Back then they seemed enormous, especially compared to, what I considered, my own underdeveloped body. In hindsight, when I look at them now in old photos, they don’t seem that big. Sure, they were bigger than those of other girls her age, but still, nothing compared to what she sports now.
At that time, three years simply seemed like such a huge gap, and I guess I was simply too imature. She was always just way ahead of me and I felt I could never catch up to her, even though to an actual adult she might have still looked like a child and not that much different from me.
Seducing guys as my sister is my favorite thing to do, especially since they won’t even look at me in my own body. It always gives me such a thrill. Seeing them squirm and try to impress me, just for me to ultimately blow them off anyway is so incredibly delicious. If they only could see the fat, ugly girl they were actually hitting on—their faces would be priceless.
A couple of weeks ago I even got my own brother in the sack. I’m not attracted to him per se, but there is something about the challenge of seducing someone who shouldn’t even be looking at you like. It was just irresistible to me. The greatest challenge yet would be fucking my Dad, but he’s way to old and even thinking about that is just yuck.
In the end though, seducing my brother turned out to be not too difficult, since he had been hopping our sister all the time anyway. That was a bit of a let-down, but the sex was still amazing. He really knows his way around a woman’s body, or at least Katy’s.
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An hour later I arrived at the gym. I was wearing an outfit that I had bought just for my sister’s body. She refused to wear it herself since she always found it too revealing, but well, nothing she can do about it while I’m in charge. I mean, I have to admit, it’s basically just a sports bra that shows off her huge tits and exposes her toned midriff, paired with an incredibly tight pair of yoga pants. I especially love how far these pants are riding up inbetween her butt cheeks. Her ass is practically devouring them.
The moment I stepped into the building I had all he meatheads gawking at me. And who could blame them, when I’m always giving them a reason to, making sure to give them a show in my sister’s body. I guess they must have missed her as much as I did, since I used to be a regular in this gym before my sister moved out.
I started with my usual warm up routine. Every couple of minutes some jock would come up to me, trying to hit on me under the guise of “just giving advice”. I always initially flirt with them, even play a little dumb, only to then crush their feeble little egos by demonstrating how much more I knew about working out than them. Then I blow them off by making it crystal clear that their tiny, roided up dicks will never even get a whiff of my sister’s pussy. They always call me a bitch or a whore, or some other name, but eventually they all walk off deflated since they know that the security around here is pretty tight.
After I was finished with the “entrée”, I began serving the “main course”: squats to show off my sister’s firm ass (with a pair of tits on the side). Considering how much work I put into her booty over the years, I think by now half of it should be legally mine. Well, at least enough to call it “mine”.
By now, more and more guys came to approach me, sometimes even two of them at once. It was so hot seeing them fight over me. I even caught some guys filming me in the reflection of the of the mirror. Meanwhile, I kept teasing them and riling them up, all while having the plausible deniability of “working out“. Even though I was drenched in sweat from all the exertion, it wasn’t responsible for all the wetness on my body, at least not the one inbetween my legs.
I blew off the last guy buzzing around me and started putting away the weights in preparation to go home after a successful “workout”. As my gaze casually travelled around, not looking for anything in particular, my eyes suddenly honed in on what I then decided would become my “dessert”. I undid my ponytail, letting my sweat-drenched hair loose. While I sneaked up on my prey, I seductively swayed my hips, exuding confidence with ever step, and making “my” tits jiggle just the right amount. Over the years I had carefully cultivated and honed the skills to perfectly show of my sister’s body to the fullest. Unfortunately, these skills didn’t transfer to my own body, for obvious reasons.
I licked my luscious lips in anticipation as I came closer and closer to my target: a pale, scrawny, hairless nerd with thick glasses. You might wonder what a hot girl like “me” is doing approaching a “loser” like that. Well, let’s just say I have a thing for nerds. And also, I’m already very familiar with this particular geek. His name is Mark and he actually is in one of my college classes, but so far I didn’t have the confidence to approach him in my own body. In my sister’s body, on the other hand, I practically had an overabundance of it.
He was oblivious to my encroaching presence as he seemed preoccupied with his struggle to lift even the lightest of weights. When he realized that I was approaching him he looked befuddled and just stared at me like a deer in headlights.
“Hey, stud,” I said in a raspy whisper. “I’ve never seen you around here. Do you come here often?” “N-N-No,” he stammered. “I-I j-just started w-w-working out.” God, I love when people get nervous like that. It gets me all wet. Especially when they blush like that. “Oh, really? A hunk like you? Then where did you get these strong arms from?” I said while caressing his bicep—or rather, lack thereof. “A-Are you making fun of me?” “No, of course not,” I laughed, lightly slapping his feeble chest.
To get him on my good side again, I pulled out one of my favorite routines. I intentionally dropped something and then went, “Oopsie. I can really be such a klutz sometimes.” I made a show of it by clearly stepping in front of him, turning around, and then bending over.
For the cherry on top I pushed my ass against his crotch. The second our bodies touched, I could immediately tell how hard he was already. He tried to move away, but I just pushed even deeper into him. For good measure I began grinding against his member, eliciting a moan from him. When I got up I could see that his face was a deep crimson.
From afar I could hear a few men cursing and jeering, wondering why such a “hot chick” was grinding up against such a “pathetic little dweeb” like him. I could barely hide the devilish grin that appeared on “my” face. I stepped closer, pushed his tiny noodle of an arm inbetween my sister’s giant tits, and whispered in his ear, “it seems we have an audience. Would you prefer taking this somewhere private?” Unable to respond, all he could muster was to swallow hard. “I’ll take that as a yes,“ I said giving him a wink. Then I dragged him off to the locker rooms.
On the way over there he made a pathetic attempt at a protest, but even if he had tried to resist earnestly, I was still stronger than him. Finally arriving at our destination, I pushed him into one of the women’s changing rooms and locked the door behind us. This space was so tiny, we could almost feel our steamy breaths on each other’s skin. We were both reeking of sweat.
I pushed my chest out and looked at him expectantly, but he just stood there doing nothing. It was so cute how I had to coax him into everything. I took charge and, with determination, pulled up my sports bra, flopping out my sister’s huge rack. Yet, he still wouldn’t move. Even when I physically placed his hands onto my chest he acted like a dead fish.
“Come on. Play with them,” I commanded. “I want you to.” But still: nothing. Then I firmly grabbed his crotch, which finally seemed to wake him up. “I-I’m sorry. This is my first time,” he said bashfully while he began to clumsily fondle my boobs. It felt a lot like masturbating with your other hand. He was so adorable, which got me insanely hot.
While he kept playing with my Katy’s tits I began rubbing her pussy. At one point he even felt adventurous enough to tweak her nipples, which sparked a surprising amount of pleasure in my sister’s tender flesh. Man, Katy’s body simply feels incredible. If I could, I would never leave.
When I could feel “my” pussy quiver in demand for more, I knew that I was ready. I took his hand off my boobs, turned around, and then quickly pulled down my pants. Leaning against the wall, I stuck out my butt and presented him with my sister’s cleanly shaven folds. “Come on. Put it in. I’m hungry for your meat,” I said, my voice dripping with lust.
Unlike before, I didn’t have to tell him twice this time, which didn’t mean that he handled the situation more skillfully. He had trouble putting his dick in me, as he kept fumbling around, constantly missing the right hole. I giggled, seeing him all flustered like that. “Dammit! I-I’m sorry. T-This is my f-first time,” He kept saying that, which turned me on even more.
“Why don’t you let me handle that?” I said to him. Then I grabbed his shaft and guided it into the right entrance. I gasped as I felt him slowly pushing into me. This nerd was surprisingly well hung. Sure, I had way bigger dicks before, but compared to what you would expect from the rest of his physique, it was enormous.
It seemed that he was finally beginning to grow a pair. He started out very timidly, but with each thrust he gained more confidence, and rammed his prick into me ever more viciously. The more his ferocity increased, the louder I moaned. My ass cheeks jiggled every time his hips slapped against them. With the enormous speed that he was eventually going at, my whole body felt like it was vibrating.
“Yes! Yes! Harder!” I screamed in my sister's voice. I didn’t care if anyone heard us. In fact, I wanted them to hear us. I wanted everyone in this gym to know how much he satisfied me. Especially those troglodytes that kept hitting on me in vain. They should know that they are nothing compared to him.
He must have been close, because I felt him preparing for one big, final thrust. Unfortunately, his clumsiness hadn’t magically dissipated in the past few minutes, as he accidentally slipped out of me and, on his thrust forward, naturally missed the entrance. Instead, his dick slid up inbetween my cheeks and then burst, coating my entire back with his sperm. This last act of derpiness drove me wild and gifted me with an incredible climax. I almost collapsed, because my legs were shaking so much.
We were both breathing hard as we were coming down. When I recovered, I wordlessly pulled my pants up and put Katy’s boobs back into my sports bra. As a goodbye I gave him one final french kiss and said to him, “you were amazing. Let’s do this again some time.” I turned around and just left him standing there in disbelief, his mouth wide open, probably unable to comprehend what just had happened. I left the gym still with his masterpiece painted on my back for all to see.
Katelyn
I got my body back just in time for lunch. My sister returned my body clean and in perfect condition, although it was exhausted from the workout and my nether regions felt suspiciously funny. I was able to spend the afternoon as myself, because, luckily, Robby was occupied with some class project and, well, Dad doesn’t really want to hop me anyway. I spent my free time just lazing around and relaxing, recuperating from all the weeks of stress and whatever shenanigans Chloe was up to earlier. Unfortunately, time flew by way too quickly and soon it was time for my Mom to take over.
Susan
It was finally my turn to hop Katy, which got me nearly giddy. But in the back of my mind, I also felt bad that we all were so greedy when it came to her. She is rarely at home nowadays, and the few times she does come around, she barely has any time to be herself.
In the beginning, when we first found out about her powers, I wasn’t even interested in hopping her. I mean, why would I want to be a child again? And my own daughter at that? I simply did not care for that. But as she grew up and matured into a woman, I got a little curious.
The first time I hopped her was when she had just turned sixteen. She was about to go to a party with her friends when she came downstairs all dolled up. Seeing her like that got me really reminiscent, and I have to admit, a little envious as well. It made me nostalgic for my own youth and my “wilder” years, when I was out and about almost every weekend. So in a moment of weakness, when she wasn’t paying attention, I quickly jumped into her body and then went partying with her friends all night long. The next day she got really mad at me and made me make it up to her, because she had been looking forward to that night for a very long time.
But now she is a full-grown adult, with a job and her own apartement and everything. I still can’t believe how much Katy looks like myself, or at least how I did twenty-five years ago. Hopping her always feels like I’m stepping into a time machine. Goodbye saggy tits, adieu flabby love handles, and au revoir wrinkly skin. Everything about her was so taut and perky.
And the best is: her youthful body was just full of life and energy. Even my husband mentioned that when I’m in her body, there is always a certain glow about “her”. He said it’s like I’m radiating pure happiness.
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It was close to nine p.m. and I was almost ready to go out. I had already applied all of my makeup and done “my” hair. The only thing left was to squeeze my daughter’s nubile body into the tightest dress that she owned. When I finally pulled the straps over her shoulders, I found that her cleavage was spilling out. Did her boobs grow again? I thought she was done with that. I don’t think I was ever this big, at least no while also being this slim. Kids these days are unbelievable.
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The only thing I remember of that night is that I still had a strong buzz going when I arrived home. One strap of my dress had come off long ago, loosely dangling off my shoulder, and almost exposing my daughter’s nipple. I stumbled my way through the darkness as I didn’t want to turn the lights on so that I wouldn’t wake anyone. I even climbed the stairs on all fours just to stay as quiet as possible. Eventually I made my way to the master bedroom, where my husband was snoring in a deep slumber. I just crawled onto the bed and under the blanket, not even bothering to undress.
I don’t know whether it was the residual alcohol, all the guys at the club, or the fact that I was in my daughter’s youthful body, but I was incredibly horny. I tried playing with “myself” so I could finally fall asleep, but that didn’t help. Frustrated from the lack of release I carefully peeled back the blanket. I immediately went for my husbands bottoms, delicately fishing out his big, juicy cock. Even though I could hardly see anything, it looked so delicious and felt so plump in my daughter’s soft hands. Without hesitation I started sucking him off like I had so many times before, in a way that I knew would get him hard in seconds.
I managed to bob my head up and down his shaft only a few times, having hardly any time to enjoy his familiar taste, before he was good to go. I slowly errected myself, making sure not to shift my weight too abruptly. Luckily, my husband was still fast asleep. I swung one leg over, pulled my panties aside, and then lowered myself onto him. I gasped when I felt the tip of his thick member enter our daughter’s dripping wet pussy. I greatly enjoyed every inch of him slowly sliding up inside of me. I was practically impaling myself.
Feeling his girth part our daughter’s young, forbidden folds was simply too much for me: I accidentally let a small moan slip out. I immediately clasped my hands over my mouth and froze any and all of my movements. After a small, silent pause his snoring resumed and I continued on. Eventually I bottomed out and my husband now had his whole sex embedded inside of his own daughter.
I started gently gyrating my hips back and forth, “my” lips rubbing against him in the process. The resulting friction cheered me on to go faster. My husband’s snores soon turned into mumbling and then into moans. I practically devoured his cock, as I was now bouncing up and down on him, swallowing him whole with “my” slippery cunt. In my own body I couldn’t have done that. I’m simply too old now.
At some point he must have been at least half-awake, because he grabbed my hips and started thrusting as he moaned my name. I know it was probably too dark for him to see anything properly, but having him confuse our daughter’s body for myself really gave both my ego and my arousal a huge spike. In that moment I felt really mischievous, and also a little bit naughty, so to tease him I simply moaned, “Oh, yes, Daddy!” His eyes suddenly flew wide open and he sputtered in shock, as he only now realized that he was fucking his own daughter.
He tried to push me off, but he was severly weakend due to all of the pleasure I was giving him. “Wait, Katy! What are you doihhhnggg—oh my God—ooooohhhhhhh…,” he groaned as his creamy load exploded inside of “me”. Unfortunately, “my” body wasn’t satisfied yet, as I desperately kept riding dick, which became more and more limp with every second.
After a couple of deep breaths he seemed to have regained both a clear mind and his strength. He tried to wrestle me off of himself, causing me to lose balance. He lunged to catch me but I only managed to yelp as we both fell off the bed.
Walter
I suddenly found myself lying on something that was both hard and soft at the same time. My mind was hazy and I felt very disoriented. It all happened so fast: one moment I was having sex with my wife, but then suddenly my daughter seemed on top of me. Everything seemed like a dream and I still wasn’t sure whether I was actually awake. On top of that I felt not only drunk but also aroused, and there was something gooey inside of me. My mind was in total chaos.
Then I felt something stirring underneath me. “I’m sorry honey, but could get off of me?” I heard my wife say. I rolled off of her and onto the floor, still unsure what was going on. “Honey, is that you? What happened?” I groaned, my voice sounding off. I rolled over and onto my stomach so I could get up more easily. But somehow I rolled onto two giant pillows that were now squeezed between me and the floor. Then it finally dawned on me: I was in my daughter’s body.
“Wait … why am I in Katy’s body?” I wondered. It finally clicked. “Whatthehell? Whatwereyouthinking?” I slurred my words. “Sshhh, not so loud. You’ll wake the kids,” my wife said. “Susan, what is wrong with you? How could you have sex with me in Katy’s body. This is our daughter for crying out loud?” “I’m sorry,” my wife said with tears welling up in her eyes. “I couldn’t control myself. I was drunk.” “What if she finds out?” I panicked.
I tried standing up, but my knees were just too wobbly for that. “Let’s get you off the floor first,” my wife said as she helped me. My daughter’s underwear felt uncomfortably wet, as it seemed to have caught a large gob of my essence. As I leaned on my wife for support, I could even feel a little bit of it leaking down my leg. “Ugh, I feel disgusting,” I moaned.
My wife helped me get onto the bed and then joined me on the other side, sitting next to me. We kept arguing in hushed voices for about half an hour, debating back and forth how we would handle this situation, but we couldn’t agree on a solution. “I’m terribly sorry about what I did,” she whispered. “Let’s just go to sleep for now and talk more about this tomorrow, okay?” “Fine,” I grumbled. I turned on my side, away from my wife, while she gently stroked my head.
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Susan seemed to have fallen asleep rather quickly as I could hear her snoring not much later. I, on the other hand, had trouble finding rest: I was simply too upset. And besides, “my” loins were still burning with desire, probably because my wife was unable to finish her escapades. I tried fighting it the entire time, but in the end, I cracked. Despite the imense pleasure I got from “playing with myself”, I felt really terrible for violating my own daughter’s body. She should have never been touched like that by her own father.
As my fingers were hastily going in and out, I unwittingly kept pushing my very own seed deeper and deeper inside of her. I was writhing underneath the blanket, inside my daughter’s body, right next to my sleeping wife. That thought finally pushed me over the edge. Trying to stay as quietly as possible, I bit my lip and just “exhaled” deeply. I could feel all that built-up tension melt away. Having found release, my eyes lids suddenly became ver heavy and I was finally able to fall asleep.
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I woke up with a pounding headache the next morning. “Ugh, Susan, honey, I don’t think I feel so good,” I groaned. I flopped my arm over to search for my wife right next to me but ultimately I only found empty space. She must have gotten up already. Groggily I dragged myself out of bed. With my body feeling like a bag of bricks I stumbled all the way to the bathroom. Inside, I turned on the lights and then let out a big yawn while rubbing my eyes.
Looking in the mirror, I blinked and squinted until I was able to focus. But when I finally managed to have a clear look, I was in for a shock: in front of me stood my daughter in the worst state I had ever seen her in. Her hair was a total mess and her makeup smudgy. Both straps of her dress had come loose, exposing her chest. And the hem had curled up around her waist, revealing large, crusty stains on her underwear. The events of last night finally came back, hitting me like a freight train.
I had to grab the sink to balance myself, as I was suddenly hit by a spell of dizziness. My heart was racing and I started hyperventilating. Oh my God, what had we done? What had I done? Images of my and our indecent acts from last night kept flashing in my mind. I felt so disgusted, I almost started vomiting.
I tried forcing myself to calm down by first taking control of my breath. Inhale … exhale … in … and out … in … and out. Slowly I managed to calm down enough to gather some thoughts. The first thing I decided on was to take a shower and clean “myself” up. I did not want our daughter to wake up to her body in such a disgusting state and find out what we did to her like that.
I gulped when I realized that this meant I had to see her naked. I try not to look at her in a sexual way. She is my daughter after all. But it’s hard sometimes, because she looks just like her mother did twenty-five years ago. Last night was the first time ever that I had done something indecent with or inside of her body.
Eventually I had to bite the bullet and began undressing. I tried keeping my eyes shut, but that turned out to be too much of a hindrance. After I was done, I tried to give my daughter at least some amount of decency by crossing her legs and folding her arms over her chest. But unfortunately, this made me hyper-aware of her body parts, as “my” arms were squishing her breasts and “my” thighs kept squeezing her folds. My daughter’s face was now beet red and I looked away in embarrassment.
I realized, that if I was going to do this, then I had to do it quickly, because there was no apparent way around it and the longer it took the worse it would get. I practically jumped into the shower, closed the shower curtain, and turned on the water, all in one swift motion. The second the hot water hit my skin I could quite literally feel the dirt and grime wash away. Relaxation spread all over myself and for a moment I even forgot that I was in my daughter’s body.
Washing her hair and face was no problem, but when it was time for her boobs I felt like a pervert. Just calling them that—“boobs”—gave me a bit of an ick. But I felt even more perverted for enjoying it. I just couldn’t deny how big and soft they were. And how firm her butt was.
I “saved” the worst part for the end: cleaning her private parts. I really didn’t want to after what I did last night, but there was still quite a lot of dried up residue from left inside of her. Reluctantly I began entering my daughter, only one finger at first. As I kept scrubbing her inner walls, “it” responded by quivering and “thanking” me with a tingling sensation. I cursed myself for liking it.
The entire time I fought hard to ignore the “positive feedback” I was getting. But the longer it lasted and the deeper I went, the more I liked it. Eventually I had to stop fooling myself and admit that I wasn’t cleaning anymore, but instead I was getting off in my daughter’s body again. Soon after I peaked and cried out, my daughter’s voice filled with pleasure. I breathed hard as this time it wasn’t just the feeling of water that was washing all over her body.
When I finally came down from my high, I was left with regret and disgust. Even though my daughter’s body was now perfectly clean, my mind felt incredibly dirty.
Katelyn
When I got my body back the day after, my parents acted really fishy. They tried to pretend like nothing happened and were trying to play it off when I asked them directly, but I could cleary tell that something was up by the way they were avoiding eye contact. Reluctantly I returned home in the evening. During the weeks after that, my family kept hopping me less and less, even though I would visit home more often. The few times they did hop me they would do so at odd times and without even asking beforehand, almost like they had planned it.
Also, I noticed that my belly had grown a bit. At first I thought that I was gaining weight, but one weekend, when I was staying home, I realized that I hadn’t had my period in quite some time. The moment that realization hit me, the pieces began falling into place: my parents had hopped me every time I was supposed to be due. Through all the seemingly random hoppings I kind of lost track of my cycle, and generally paid less attention to it.
I immediately did a pregnancy test, which confirmed what I had feared: yes, I was pregnant. My first reaction was disbelief. But when the reality of it all sank in, I became overwhelmed to the point dizziness. After I had some time to digest the news, I became incredibly livid. Not only did they do something so horrendously stupid to me, they also tried to cover up their mistake, dodging any and all responsibility.
Fuming, I drove over to their house to confront them with the facts, getting a hefty speeding ticket on the way there. When I threw the results of my pregnancy test in their faces, they were dead silent. Like before they wouldn’t even look me in the eyes. And every time they did manage to open their pathetic mouths, they were just squirming. It was insanely frustrating. I just barely managed to get out of them that, yes, I was indeed pregnant with my father’s child. Speechless, I just stormed off. I went “no contact” with them and blocked them on all my devices, unsure when or if I ever would speak to them again.
As for the baby that is growing inside of me: I’m very likely not going to keep it. I mean, I wasn’t planning on becoming a mother so soon; I’m not even in a relationship right now. And I sure as hell didn’t plan on having my father’s child. Considering how I was treated in my life so far, I think that I don’t even want to have children—ever. I don’t want them to run the risk of becoming a reverse hopper like me; I wouldn’t want to inflict that on anyone.
Well, right now, the future seems really uncertain.
Katelyn
My family sucks. I do love them, but sometimes they just suck. Thanks to them my life is usually a total mess. You see, I’m a reverse body hopper. What that means is, my family can possess my body so long as they collide with me at a high enough velocity. I then black out completely and wake up again whenever they decide to leave. Thank God this only works with my family and not with total strangers or my life would be over.
They constantly just take my body, and even when they ask they just keep begging and pleading until I finally give in. Well, the only exception is my Dad. He is just the greatest. He’s never even asked to take over my body. In fact, I’ve asked him to hop me before. He would often take over for me when I was sick or when my period was really bad. He’s the only one I can trust to take care of me and respect my body.
I mean, despite how that all sounds, they do love me, I know they do. That’s why they always try to make it up to me, by buying me gifts or doing stuff for me, like chores and my homework, or hitting the gym. I just wish I could spend some time around my family in peace and simply enjoy their company.
When I talk to my friends about it they make a way big of a deal out of it. It’s not like I feel violated or anything, more like just tired and annoyed. I’m probably just so used to it, even though I shouldn’t be, because it’s been going on for so long, longer that I can even remember. Sometimes it makes me feel like public property, like a shared family car that everyone wants to take for a ride. I can’t even imagine the countless amount of hours of my life that I lost to them.
But I guess it’s gotten better since I moved out, simply for the fact that I’m now out of their reach. Although that still doesn’t stop them from asking if they could borrow “me” for a while. Well, at least it’s easier to say “no” over the phone or via text. And as an added bonus, I don’t have to take the pill anymore. I never liked taking it as it messes with my hormones too much. I only took it as a safety precaution so that my family couldn’t do anything too stupid while they were inside of me.
Actually, it’s been a while since I visited my family, ’cause I’ve been so busy at work. I haven’t met all of them yet, since I arrived at my parent’s house very late last night. So far, I’ve only got to meet Mom and Dad. Maybe I’ll see Robby and Chloe at breakfast or whenever they decide to get up.
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Waking up from my daydream, I realized that I had been in the shower for way too long. I turned off the water, reached for my towel, and began drying myself off. I always hated that part, because it made me miss the bliss and warmth of the hot water. Afterwards I got out of the shower and wrapped the towel tightly around my body. Then I stepped into hallway, closed the door behind myself and—
Robert
“Hihi. Welcome home, ‘sis’”, I giggled in my sister’s voice. I quickly flitted off to her room and tightly locked the door behind me. I immediately dropped the towel that “I” was wearing, revealing my older sister’s body in all her naked glory. “Oh, ‘Katy’. You can’t imagine how much I missed ‘you’”, I said, giving “myself” a big hug, squishing my sister’s enormous chest in the process.
I sauntered over to Katy’s full-length mirror, enjoying the sway of her hips with every step. I thoroughly looked her over from head to toe. Her body was simply perfect. Especially her boobs. “Man, I just love your huge rack,“ I told my “sister” while giving her giant globes a firm squeeze. I just couldn’t help myself.
It’s not like I have the hots for my sister. To me, her mind and her body are two separate things. It’s just an unfortunate coincidence that she happened to be a reverse body hopper. I mean, I don’t have a thing for my younger sister or my mom. But then again, neither of them are reverse hoppers.
By now, I’ve hopped my sister so often, that to me it doesn’t really feel like I’m wearing her body. It just feels like I’m being me—a different me. I’ve hopped her since I was a child, even before I hit puberty. The first time was a total accident, and back then she found it cute and adorable, maybe because I was, and also because she was always pretty motherly towards me; she’s my older sister after all. But ever since we, especially I, hit puberty, she disliked me hopping her more and more.
I guess it was bad timing that I discovered her ability when I did, which is probably the reason why I am attracted to her body. In a way you could say that we developed alongside each other, even though she had a two-year headstart. I mean, not many people get to experience growing up both as a boy and a girl, and in more than one way I am thankful for that. Because of her I know what it feels like to become a woman and I think that made us closer than any other siblings. Over the years, I got to experience the swelling of her breasts and the widening of her hips, among other things. And I always loved how her body felt so much softer. Maybe I was secretly envious of that, or maybe I just enjoyed the feeling, I don’t even know.
Nevertheless, I’m a guy afterall and as a hormonal teenager I took advantage of that unique opportunity every way I could. My sister is the reason why, so far, I’ve only dated girls who are slightly older than me. I hopped her way more often than she even knows. There were times when I would sneak into her bedroom almost every. Thankfully, now that I’m older and in college, I have myself much better under control. Although it’s still hard to resist hopping her sometimes. But then again, that whole experience really taught me how to please a woman.
I’m ashamed to admit it, but a few weeks ago I even had sex with her when our little sister was wearing her. I just couldn’t help myself. The combination of my preexisting attraction to her body and my little sister coming on to me was simply too much for me not to give in. To this day, it was still the best sex I ever had. Sometimes, when the sex with a girlfriend gets a little boring, I imagine my sister in her place, which always perks me up again. One time I even accidentally said her name, which was the end of that relationship.
By now, “I” was already dripping wet as I had been rubbing “my” crotch and massaging “my” breasts the whole time I stood in front of the mirror. Feeling that my knees were getting weak, I hurried over and threw myself onto Katy’s bed. There I really went at it by reaching deep inside of my sister’s hole and groping her boobs and tweaking her nipples. I planned on giving her a warm welcome-home present, so I kept frantically sloshing two of her fingers in and out of her dripping wet cunt. After a few minutes of expert stimulation, I felt that her body was on the cusp of an orgasm and abruptly jumped out of her.
Katelyn
Like so many times before, I suddenly woke up in my room. I was lying on my bed, one hand clutching my breast, the other burried inside of me, the latter keept penetrating me, seemingly all on its own. Without a warning, a wave of pleasure hit me. A warm tingling bloomed between my legs and then ratiated outwards, coursing through my entire body. It all happened so fast, I couldn’t stop myself from letting out a long, high-pitched moan. The sudden and intense pleasure made me squirt so much, I soiled both my hand and my bedsheets.
“Welcome home, sis,” my brother laughed with a big, dirty grin plastered across his face. “Robby, you asshole!” I yelled at him. As I pulled my hand from my vagina, strings of the gooey slime that coated my fingers followed it. “Ew, you’re such a disgusting pig.” “Why? Don’t you like your ‘present’?” he asked while he made a run for the door. “You could’ve at least cleaned up after yourself,” I tried to call after him, but he had already fled my room. “Great. Now I have to take another shower.”
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All clean again, I joined my parents at the breakfast table. The table was overflowing with food as my Mom had really gone all out to celebrate my long-awaited return home. “Did you sleep well, honey?” my mother asked. “Oh, yes, fantastic. It felt really great to sleep in my old bed again,” I said while I loaded my plate with waffles and fruits. “What was all that ruckus about earlier?” my father grumbled. “Just Robby being the prick that he usually is.” “Hmpf. I guess I need to have a word with him later.”
“Katyyyyy!” I heard my little sister yell as she ran towards me. I hadn’t even managed to get the first bite of my breakfast when she already gave me a big hug. “Oh, you don’t know how much I missed you, sis!” “Did you really miss me or just my body?” I retorted. “Of course I missed you, silly. You’re my favorite sister.” “I’m your only sister,” I interjected. “Right. But since you brought it up: can I borrow ‘you’ today? Just for this morning, I promise. It’s been way too long since the last time.”
“Leave your sister alone, Chloe,” my Dad commanded. “You’ll make her feel not welcome in her own home. No wonder she is hardly here.” “Oh, she doesn’t mind, Daddy. Right sis?” she said, looking at me with her huge puppy dog eyes. “Yes, I do.” “Come on, Katy. Please? Just for a little bit!” “No,” I responded flatly. “Pleeeeeaaaase. I’ll even go to the gym for you. Remember how much you hate doing that?” “No, I don’t. You’re just making shit up. But, hmm, well. It’s been forever since I had any form of exercise. Work kept me really busy lately,” I pondered aloud. “Pretty please?” she said pouting her lips. “Ugh, fine, I guess,” I reletend. Chloe squealed in response.
“Sweety,” my Mom interjected timidly. “I’m sorry, this might be bad timing and come off as rude, but would you mind if tonight—”. “Yes, yes, it’s fine,” I interrupted her annoyed. “You can all ‘borrow’ my body. But get it out of your systems today, ’cause there will be no hopping tomorrow! I—”
Chloe
“Chloe!” my Mom scolded me. “You could have at least let your sister eat breakfast herself,”. “But Moooom,” I whined in my older sister’s voice. “You heard her. She said it was okay.” I wolfed down my sister’s breakfast as fast as I could and then raced up the stairs and into Katy’s room, leaving my speechless parents behind.
Finally behind closed doors I began rubbing my sister’s flat belly. I loved doing that so much, her pussy always immediately begins to tingle in response. Unfortunately, I wasn’t as blessed in the looks departement as my older sister was. As far back as I can remember I have been chubby. And with each year, it’s gotten worse. I can’t seem to lose weight, no matter what I try. Which makes me feel jealous of her sometimes, even though I know that it isn’t her fault.
In contrast to mine, her body is really slim and always feels so light and full of energy. It even makes going to the gym a lot of fun. In my own body it is just pure torture. And the reactions I get from other people are just so different. When I’m her, people seem to adore me, but when I’m myself, they seem to despise me. Even though I’m the same person; only my looks change.
That’s the main reason why I’ve been hopping her since I was little. Also, being in her body always made me feel so mature and grown-up. I always felt especially proud when I was wearing her big boobs. I loved showing them off and catching someone trying to secretly glance at them (or sometimes even outright staring). Back then they seemed enormous, especially compared to, what I considered, my own underdeveloped body. In hindsight, when I look at them now in old photos, they don’t seem that big. Sure, they were bigger than those of other girls her age, but still, nothing compared to what she sports now.
At that time, three years simply seemed like such a huge gap, and I guess I was simply too imature. She was always just way ahead of me and I felt I could never catch up to her, even though to an actual adult she might have still looked like a child and not that much different from me.
Seducing guys as my sister is my favorite thing to do, especially since they won’t even look at me in my own body. It always gives me such a thrill. Seeing them squirm and try to impress me, just for me to ultimately blow them off anyway is so incredibly delicious. If they only could see the fat, ugly girl they were actually hitting on—their faces would be priceless.
A couple of weeks ago I even got my own brother in the sack. I’m not attracted to him per se, but there is something about the challenge of seducing someone who shouldn’t even be looking at you like. It was just irresistible to me. The greatest challenge yet would be fucking my Dad, but he’s way to old and even thinking about that is just yuck.
In the end though, seducing my brother turned out to be not too difficult, since he had been hopping our sister all the time anyway. That was a bit of a let-down, but the sex was still amazing. He really knows his way around a woman’s body, or at least Katy’s.
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An hour later I arrived at the gym. I was wearing an outfit that I had bought just for my sister’s body. She refused to wear it herself since she always found it too revealing, but well, nothing she can do about it while I’m in charge. I mean, I have to admit, it’s basically just a sports bra that shows off her huge tits and exposes her toned midriff, paired with an incredibly tight pair of yoga pants. I especially love how far these pants are riding up inbetween her butt cheeks. Her ass is practically devouring them.
The moment I stepped into the building I had all he meatheads gawking at me. And who could blame them, when I’m always giving them a reason to, making sure to give them a show in my sister’s body. I guess they must have missed her as much as I did, since I used to be a regular in this gym before my sister moved out.
I started with my usual warm up routine. Every couple of minutes some jock would come up to me, trying to hit on me under the guise of “just giving advice”. I always initially flirt with them, even play a little dumb, only to then crush their feeble little egos by demonstrating how much more I knew about working out than them. Then I blow them off by making it crystal clear that their tiny, roided up dicks will never even get a whiff of my sister’s pussy. They always call me a bitch or a whore, or some other name, but eventually they all walk off deflated since they know that the security around here is pretty tight.
After I was finished with the “entrée”, I began serving the “main course”: squats to show off my sister’s firm ass (with a pair of tits on the side). Considering how much work I put into her booty over the years, I think by now half of it should be legally mine. Well, at least enough to call it “mine”.
By now, more and more guys came to approach me, sometimes even two of them at once. It was so hot seeing them fight over me. I even caught some guys filming me in the reflection of the of the mirror. Meanwhile, I kept teasing them and riling them up, all while having the plausible deniability of “working out“. Even though I was drenched in sweat from all the exertion, it wasn’t responsible for all the wetness on my body, at least not the one inbetween my legs.
I blew off the last guy buzzing around me and started putting away the weights in preparation to go home after a successful “workout”. As my gaze casually travelled around, not looking for anything in particular, my eyes suddenly honed in on what I then decided would become my “dessert”. I undid my ponytail, letting my sweat-drenched hair loose. While I sneaked up on my prey, I seductively swayed my hips, exuding confidence with ever step, and making “my” tits jiggle just the right amount. Over the years I had carefully cultivated and honed the skills to perfectly show of my sister’s body to the fullest. Unfortunately, these skills didn’t transfer to my own body, for obvious reasons.
I licked my luscious lips in anticipation as I came closer and closer to my target: a pale, scrawny, hairless nerd with thick glasses. You might wonder what a hot girl like “me” is doing approaching a “loser” like that. Well, let’s just say I have a thing for nerds. And also, I’m already very familiar with this particular geek. His name is Mark and he actually is in one of my college classes, but so far I didn’t have the confidence to approach him in my own body. In my sister’s body, on the other hand, I practically had an overabundance of it.
He was oblivious to my encroaching presence as he seemed preoccupied with his struggle to lift even the lightest of weights. When he realized that I was approaching him he looked befuddled and just stared at me like a deer in headlights.
“Hey, stud,” I said in a raspy whisper. “I’ve never seen you around here. Do you come here often?” “N-N-No,” he stammered. “I-I j-just started w-w-working out.” God, I love when people get nervous like that. It gets me all wet. Especially when they blush like that. “Oh, really? A hunk like you? Then where did you get these strong arms from?” I said while caressing his bicep—or rather, lack thereof. “A-Are you making fun of me?” “No, of course not,” I laughed, lightly slapping his feeble chest.
To get him on my good side again, I pulled out one of my favorite routines. I intentionally dropped something and then went, “Oopsie. I can really be such a klutz sometimes.” I made a show of it by clearly stepping in front of him, turning around, and then bending over.
For the cherry on top I pushed my ass against his crotch. The second our bodies touched, I could immediately tell how hard he was already. He tried to move away, but I just pushed even deeper into him. For good measure I began grinding against his member, eliciting a moan from him. When I got up I could see that his face was a deep crimson.
From afar I could hear a few men cursing and jeering, wondering why such a “hot chick” was grinding up against such a “pathetic little dweeb” like him. I could barely hide the devilish grin that appeared on “my” face. I stepped closer, pushed his tiny noodle of an arm inbetween my sister’s giant tits, and whispered in his ear, “it seems we have an audience. Would you prefer taking this somewhere private?” Unable to respond, all he could muster was to swallow hard. “I’ll take that as a yes,“ I said giving him a wink. Then I dragged him off to the locker rooms.
On the way over there he made a pathetic attempt at a protest, but even if he had tried to resist earnestly, I was still stronger than him. Finally arriving at our destination, I pushed him into one of the women’s changing rooms and locked the door behind us. This space was so tiny, we could almost feel our steamy breaths on each other’s skin. We were both reeking of sweat.
I pushed my chest out and looked at him expectantly, but he just stood there doing nothing. It was so cute how I had to coax him into everything. I took charge and, with determination, pulled up my sports bra, flopping out my sister’s huge rack. Yet, he still wouldn’t move. Even when I physically placed his hands onto my chest he acted like a dead fish.
“Come on. Play with them,” I commanded. “I want you to.” But still: nothing. Then I firmly grabbed his crotch, which finally seemed to wake him up. “I-I’m sorry. This is my first time,” he said bashfully while he began to clumsily fondle my boobs. It felt a lot like masturbating with your other hand. He was so adorable, which got me insanely hot.
While he kept playing with my Katy’s tits I began rubbing her pussy. At one point he even felt adventurous enough to tweak her nipples, which sparked a surprising amount of pleasure in my sister’s tender flesh. Man, Katy’s body simply feels incredible. If I could, I would never leave.
When I could feel “my” pussy quiver in demand for more, I knew that I was ready. I took his hand off my boobs, turned around, and then quickly pulled down my pants. Leaning against the wall, I stuck out my butt and presented him with my sister’s cleanly shaven folds. “Come on. Put it in. I’m hungry for your meat,” I said, my voice dripping with lust.
Unlike before, I didn’t have to tell him twice this time, which didn’t mean that he handled the situation more skillfully. He had trouble putting his dick in me, as he kept fumbling around, constantly missing the right hole. I giggled, seeing him all flustered like that. “Dammit! I-I’m sorry. T-This is my f-first time,” He kept saying that, which turned me on even more.
“Why don’t you let me handle that?” I said to him. Then I grabbed his shaft and guided it into the right entrance. I gasped as I felt him slowly pushing into me. This nerd was surprisingly well hung. Sure, I had way bigger dicks before, but compared to what you would expect from the rest of his physique, it was enormous.
It seemed that he was finally beginning to grow a pair. He started out very timidly, but with each thrust he gained more confidence, and rammed his prick into me ever more viciously. The more his ferocity increased, the louder I moaned. My ass cheeks jiggled every time his hips slapped against them. With the enormous speed that he was eventually going at, my whole body felt like it was vibrating.
“Yes! Yes! Harder!” I screamed in my sister's voice. I didn’t care if anyone heard us. In fact, I wanted them to hear us. I wanted everyone in this gym to know how much he satisfied me. Especially those troglodytes that kept hitting on me in vain. They should know that they are nothing compared to him.
He must have been close, because I felt him preparing for one big, final thrust. Unfortunately, his clumsiness hadn’t magically dissipated in the past few minutes, as he accidentally slipped out of me and, on his thrust forward, naturally missed the entrance. Instead, his dick slid up inbetween my cheeks and then burst, coating my entire back with his sperm. This last act of derpiness drove me wild and gifted me with an incredible climax. I almost collapsed, because my legs were shaking so much.
We were both breathing hard as we were coming down. When I recovered, I wordlessly pulled my pants up and put Katy’s boobs back into my sports bra. As a goodbye I gave him one final french kiss and said to him, “you were amazing. Let’s do this again some time.” I turned around and just left him standing there in disbelief, his mouth wide open, probably unable to comprehend what just had happened. I left the gym still with his masterpiece painted on my back for all to see.
Katelyn
I got my body back just in time for lunch. My sister returned my body clean and in perfect condition, although it was exhausted from the workout and my nether regions felt suspiciously funny. I was able to spend the afternoon as myself, because, luckily, Robby was occupied with some class project and, well, Dad doesn’t really want to hop me anyway. I spent my free time just lazing around and relaxing, recuperating from all the weeks of stress and whatever shenanigans Chloe was up to earlier. Unfortunately, time flew by way too quickly and soon it was time for my Mom to take over.
Susan
It was finally my turn to hop Katy, which got me nearly giddy. But in the back of my mind, I also felt bad that we all were so greedy when it came to her. She is rarely at home nowadays, and the few times she does come around, she barely has any time to be herself.
In the beginning, when we first found out about her powers, I wasn’t even interested in hopping her. I mean, why would I want to be a child again? And my own daughter at that? I simply did not care for that. But as she grew up and matured into a woman, I got a little curious.
The first time I hopped her was when she had just turned sixteen. She was about to go to a party with her friends when she came downstairs all dolled up. Seeing her like that got me really reminiscent, and I have to admit, a little envious as well. It made me nostalgic for my own youth and my “wilder” years, when I was out and about almost every weekend. So in a moment of weakness, when she wasn’t paying attention, I quickly jumped into her body and then went partying with her friends all night long. The next day she got really mad at me and made me make it up to her, because she had been looking forward to that night for a very long time.
But now she is a full-grown adult, with a job and her own apartement and everything. I still can’t believe how much Katy looks like myself, or at least how I did twenty-five years ago. Hopping her always feels like I’m stepping into a time machine. Goodbye saggy tits, adieu flabby love handles, and au revoir wrinkly skin. Everything about her was so taut and perky.
And the best is: her youthful body was just full of life and energy. Even my husband mentioned that when I’m in her body, there is always a certain glow about “her”. He said it’s like I’m radiating pure happiness.
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It was close to nine p.m. and I was almost ready to go out. I had already applied all of my makeup and done “my” hair. The only thing left was to squeeze my daughter’s nubile body into the tightest dress that she owned. When I finally pulled the straps over her shoulders, I found that her cleavage was spilling out. Did her boobs grow again? I thought she was done with that. I don’t think I was ever this big, at least no while also being this slim. Kids these days are unbelievable.
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The only thing I remember of that night is that I still had a strong buzz going when I arrived home. One strap of my dress had come off long ago, loosely dangling off my shoulder, and almost exposing my daughter’s nipple. I stumbled my way through the darkness as I didn’t want to turn the lights on so that I wouldn’t wake anyone. I even climbed the stairs on all fours just to stay as quiet as possible. Eventually I made my way to the master bedroom, where my husband was snoring in a deep slumber. I just crawled onto the bed and under the blanket, not even bothering to undress.
I don’t know whether it was the residual alcohol, all the guys at the club, or the fact that I was in my daughter’s youthful body, but I was incredibly horny. I tried playing with “myself” so I could finally fall asleep, but that didn’t help. Frustrated from the lack of release I carefully peeled back the blanket. I immediately went for my husbands bottoms, delicately fishing out his big, juicy cock. Even though I could hardly see anything, it looked so delicious and felt so plump in my daughter’s soft hands. Without hesitation I started sucking him off like I had so many times before, in a way that I knew would get him hard in seconds.
I managed to bob my head up and down his shaft only a few times, having hardly any time to enjoy his familiar taste, before he was good to go. I slowly errected myself, making sure not to shift my weight too abruptly. Luckily, my husband was still fast asleep. I swung one leg over, pulled my panties aside, and then lowered myself onto him. I gasped when I felt the tip of his thick member enter our daughter’s dripping wet pussy. I greatly enjoyed every inch of him slowly sliding up inside of me. I was practically impaling myself.
Feeling his girth part our daughter’s young, forbidden folds was simply too much for me: I accidentally let a small moan slip out. I immediately clasped my hands over my mouth and froze any and all of my movements. After a small, silent pause his snoring resumed and I continued on. Eventually I bottomed out and my husband now had his whole sex embedded inside of his own daughter.
I started gently gyrating my hips back and forth, “my” lips rubbing against him in the process. The resulting friction cheered me on to go faster. My husband’s snores soon turned into mumbling and then into moans. I practically devoured his cock, as I was now bouncing up and down on him, swallowing him whole with “my” slippery cunt. In my own body I couldn’t have done that. I’m simply too old now.
At some point he must have been at least half-awake, because he grabbed my hips and started thrusting as he moaned my name. I know it was probably too dark for him to see anything properly, but having him confuse our daughter’s body for myself really gave both my ego and my arousal a huge spike. In that moment I felt really mischievous, and also a little bit naughty, so to tease him I simply moaned, “Oh, yes, Daddy!” His eyes suddenly flew wide open and he sputtered in shock, as he only now realized that he was fucking his own daughter.
He tried to push me off, but he was severly weakend due to all of the pleasure I was giving him. “Wait, Katy! What are you doihhhnggg—oh my God—ooooohhhhhhh…,” he groaned as his creamy load exploded inside of “me”. Unfortunately, “my” body wasn’t satisfied yet, as I desperately kept riding dick, which became more and more limp with every second.
After a couple of deep breaths he seemed to have regained both a clear mind and his strength. He tried to wrestle me off of himself, causing me to lose balance. He lunged to catch me but I only managed to yelp as we both fell off the bed.
Walter
I suddenly found myself lying on something that was both hard and soft at the same time. My mind was hazy and I felt very disoriented. It all happened so fast: one moment I was having sex with my wife, but then suddenly my daughter seemed on top of me. Everything seemed like a dream and I still wasn’t sure whether I was actually awake. On top of that I felt not only drunk but also aroused, and there was something gooey inside of me. My mind was in total chaos.
Then I felt something stirring underneath me. “I’m sorry honey, but could get off of me?” I heard my wife say. I rolled off of her and onto the floor, still unsure what was going on. “Honey, is that you? What happened?” I groaned, my voice sounding off. I rolled over and onto my stomach so I could get up more easily. But somehow I rolled onto two giant pillows that were now squeezed between me and the floor. Then it finally dawned on me: I was in my daughter’s body.
“Wait … why am I in Katy’s body?” I wondered. It finally clicked. “Whatthehell? Whatwereyouthinking?” I slurred my words. “Sshhh, not so loud. You’ll wake the kids,” my wife said. “Susan, what is wrong with you? How could you have sex with me in Katy’s body. This is our daughter for crying out loud?” “I’m sorry,” my wife said with tears welling up in her eyes. “I couldn’t control myself. I was drunk.” “What if she finds out?” I panicked.
I tried standing up, but my knees were just too wobbly for that. “Let’s get you off the floor first,” my wife said as she helped me. My daughter’s underwear felt uncomfortably wet, as it seemed to have caught a large gob of my essence. As I leaned on my wife for support, I could even feel a little bit of it leaking down my leg. “Ugh, I feel disgusting,” I moaned.
My wife helped me get onto the bed and then joined me on the other side, sitting next to me. We kept arguing in hushed voices for about half an hour, debating back and forth how we would handle this situation, but we couldn’t agree on a solution. “I’m terribly sorry about what I did,” she whispered. “Let’s just go to sleep for now and talk more about this tomorrow, okay?” “Fine,” I grumbled. I turned on my side, away from my wife, while she gently stroked my head.
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Susan seemed to have fallen asleep rather quickly as I could hear her snoring not much later. I, on the other hand, had trouble finding rest: I was simply too upset. And besides, “my” loins were still burning with desire, probably because my wife was unable to finish her escapades. I tried fighting it the entire time, but in the end, I cracked. Despite the imense pleasure I got from “playing with myself”, I felt really terrible for violating my own daughter’s body. She should have never been touched like that by her own father.
As my fingers were hastily going in and out, I unwittingly kept pushing my very own seed deeper and deeper inside of her. I was writhing underneath the blanket, inside my daughter’s body, right next to my sleeping wife. That thought finally pushed me over the edge. Trying to stay as quietly as possible, I bit my lip and just “exhaled” deeply. I could feel all that built-up tension melt away. Having found release, my eyes lids suddenly became ver heavy and I was finally able to fall asleep.
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I woke up with a pounding headache the next morning. “Ugh, Susan, honey, I don’t think I feel so good,” I groaned. I flopped my arm over to search for my wife right next to me but ultimately I only found empty space. She must have gotten up already. Groggily I dragged myself out of bed. With my body feeling like a bag of bricks I stumbled all the way to the bathroom. Inside, I turned on the lights and then let out a big yawn while rubbing my eyes.
Looking in the mirror, I blinked and squinted until I was able to focus. But when I finally managed to have a clear look, I was in for a shock: in front of me stood my daughter in the worst state I had ever seen her in. Her hair was a total mess and her makeup smudgy. Both straps of her dress had come loose, exposing her chest. And the hem had curled up around her waist, revealing large, crusty stains on her underwear. The events of last night finally came back, hitting me like a freight train.
I had to grab the sink to balance myself, as I was suddenly hit by a spell of dizziness. My heart was racing and I started hyperventilating. Oh my God, what had we done? What had I done? Images of my and our indecent acts from last night kept flashing in my mind. I felt so disgusted, I almost started vomiting.
I tried forcing myself to calm down by first taking control of my breath. Inhale … exhale … in … and out … in … and out. Slowly I managed to calm down enough to gather some thoughts. The first thing I decided on was to take a shower and clean “myself” up. I did not want our daughter to wake up to her body in such a disgusting state and find out what we did to her like that.
I gulped when I realized that this meant I had to see her naked. I try not to look at her in a sexual way. She is my daughter after all. But it’s hard sometimes, because she looks just like her mother did twenty-five years ago. Last night was the first time ever that I had done something indecent with or inside of her body.
Eventually I had to bite the bullet and began undressing. I tried keeping my eyes shut, but that turned out to be too much of a hindrance. After I was done, I tried to give my daughter at least some amount of decency by crossing her legs and folding her arms over her chest. But unfortunately, this made me hyper-aware of her body parts, as “my” arms were squishing her breasts and “my” thighs kept squeezing her folds. My daughter’s face was now beet red and I looked away in embarrassment.
I realized, that if I was going to do this, then I had to do it quickly, because there was no apparent way around it and the longer it took the worse it would get. I practically jumped into the shower, closed the shower curtain, and turned on the water, all in one swift motion. The second the hot water hit my skin I could quite literally feel the dirt and grime wash away. Relaxation spread all over myself and for a moment I even forgot that I was in my daughter’s body.
Washing her hair and face was no problem, but when it was time for her boobs I felt like a pervert. Just calling them that—“boobs”—gave me a bit of an ick. But I felt even more perverted for enjoying it. I just couldn’t deny how big and soft they were. And how firm her butt was.
I “saved” the worst part for the end: cleaning her private parts. I really didn’t want to after what I did last night, but there was still quite a lot of dried up residue from left inside of her. Reluctantly I began entering my daughter, only one finger at first. As I kept scrubbing her inner walls, “it” responded by quivering and “thanking” me with a tingling sensation. I cursed myself for liking it.
The entire time I fought hard to ignore the “positive feedback” I was getting. But the longer it lasted and the deeper I went, the more I liked it. Eventually I had to stop fooling myself and admit that I wasn’t cleaning anymore, but instead I was getting off in my daughter’s body again. Soon after I peaked and cried out, my daughter’s voice filled with pleasure. I breathed hard as this time it wasn’t just the feeling of water that was washing all over her body.
When I finally came down from my high, I was left with regret and disgust. Even though my daughter’s body was now perfectly clean, my mind felt incredibly dirty.
Katelyn
When I got my body back the day after, my parents acted really fishy. They tried to pretend like nothing happened and were trying to play it off when I asked them directly, but I could cleary tell that something was up by the way they were avoiding eye contact. Reluctantly I returned home in the evening. During the weeks after that, my family kept hopping me less and less, even though I would visit home more often. The few times they did hop me they would do so at odd times and without even asking beforehand, almost like they had planned it.
Also, I noticed that my belly had grown a bit. At first I thought that I was gaining weight, but one weekend, when I was staying home, I realized that I hadn’t had my period in quite some time. The moment that realization hit me, the pieces began falling into place: my parents had hopped me every time I was supposed to be due. Through all the seemingly random hoppings I kind of lost track of my cycle, and generally paid less attention to it.
I immediately did a pregnancy test, which confirmed what I had feared: yes, I was pregnant. My first reaction was disbelief. But when the reality of it all sank in, I became overwhelmed to the point dizziness. After I had some time to digest the news, I became incredibly livid. Not only did they do something so horrendously stupid to me, they also tried to cover up their mistake, dodging any and all responsibility.
Fuming, I drove over to their house to confront them with the facts, getting a hefty speeding ticket on the way there. When I threw the results of my pregnancy test in their faces, they were dead silent. Like before they wouldn’t even look me in the eyes. And every time they did manage to open their pathetic mouths, they were just squirming. It was insanely frustrating. I just barely managed to get out of them that, yes, I was indeed pregnant with my father’s child. Speechless, I just stormed off. I went “no contact” with them and blocked them on all my devices, unsure when or if I ever would speak to them again.
As for the baby that is growing inside of me: I’m very likely not going to keep it. I mean, I wasn’t planning on becoming a mother so soon; I’m not even in a relationship right now. And I sure as hell didn’t plan on having my father’s child. Considering how I was treated in my life so far, I think that I don’t even want to have children—ever. I don’t want them to run the risk of becoming a reverse hopper like me; I wouldn’t want to inflict that on anyone.
Well, right now, the future seems really uncertain.
possession
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Here's a RWBY incest fanfiction that I drawed up. Now, before entering, I must warn you of the content within: there will be violence. There will be blood. There will be murder. There will be incestuous relations. There will be heartbreak (probably). And there will be Sprite. If ANY of that is too uncomfortable for you, please look elsewhere. Everyone else, happy reading.
Also, this is serving as a prototype for mixing story and porn. Both are great on their own, but together, they're unmatched. So I wanna try my hand with it. So hopefully, ya like it....alright, dassitdassall.
"Hmm…B7," Yang guesses,
"Miss," Ruby responds, earning a grunt in return, "...E…2?"
"Dammit!"
"Hahaha! I told you, Ms. Doubtfire! You! Can't! Beat me! I'm the best! I am the very powerful! Witness the true greatness shining upon you!"
The two sisters share a laugh after the display of dumbassery from the young girl.
"Oh, calm down, Ms. Braggart," Yang replies, cleaning up the game, "You won a couple of board games. So what? Any joe schmoe could get lucky twice."
"Uh huh. Keep finding different ways of coping with the fact that you're getting your butt kicked by your little sister."
"Alright, big shot. Gloves are off now. Which game's next?"
Ruby takes a moment to think of her options, but she's soon interrupted as her father suddenly swoops her up in the air, causing her to squeal in joy as he turns her about before setting her down on her feet and kneeling down to her level.
"I've got a game for ya," he says, looking her in the eyes and poking her nose, "It's single player, though. So Yang can't join in, unfortunately. It's called 'brush your teeth and head on up to bed'. Patent pending."
"Awww."
"I know, I know. But you've already been up half an hour past your bedtime. You've gotta go to bed at some point, Rubes."
"5 more minutes?"
"In another lifetime maybe."
"Pleeease?"
"Ruby."
Yang chuckles at the back and forth before deciding to go with ol' reliable.
"Don't worry, Ruby. Tomorrow's gonna be much better anyways. We'll get to play more with more time in our arsonal?"
"Yaaay!" Ruby rejoices with Tai turning to her with a feigned look of disapproval of the plan,
"And how do you plan to make good on that promise, young lady?"
"Come on, she's a kid," Yang replies, "She's gotta have some fun."
"You're half right. She's still a kid. So she needs to be in bed at the appropriate time or everything falls out of whack."
"Ok, ok, how's about this: we play three quarters past her bedtime."
"...Ten minutes."
"Two and a half quarters."
"Twelve minutes and you only do half the dishes from now on."
"Two quarters and I take care of dinner every visit."
"...Alright, deal."
Ruby rejoices from the compromise, not knowing that that's practically the same deal that they've had for the past few months.
"Ok, but that's tomorrow. This is tonight."
"Ok, ok."
Ruby then latches onto Yang's waist, embracing her in a warm hug, which Yang reciprocates. She then ruffles her little sister's hair before poking her sides, earning cute giggles in response.
"Alright, see ya tomorrow, sis. Don't destroy the place while I'm gone."
"No promises," Ruby replies with a grin,
"Guess that's all I'm gonna get. Whatever. Shoo, ya little rascal."
Yang scoots the girl away with her giggling in response before heading upstairs to her bathroom, leaving Tai and Yang to their own conversation.
"Ok, serious time," Tai says, turning to his daughter and folding his arms, "Are you ok?"
"I'm good. Honest. This stopped meaning as much as it did after the first visit. Her smile does a lot, y'know?"
"Yeah. I know what you mean there. But I just wanna make sure. If…she's making you uncomfortable in any way-..."
"Dad, I'm fine. I swear. Just a matter of getting her off my ass at times."
"Yuuup. And speaking of which-..."
He pulls out his phone, looking at the time. He then recoils as he receives his answer.
"9:38. That's gonna be a fun conversation at this time of night. Want me to chaufer?"
"Nah. Not like she'll have the balls to do anything to me. Or even care enough to really make a big deal out of it. Plus, you've still got a rowdy little monster to tend to."
"Yeah, guess you're right. Ok, stay safe, sweetheart. I love you."
"Love you, too."
They embrace each other in a hug with Tai kissing the top of Yang's head before they separate and Yang heads out the front door. As she rides home on her bike, Yang, just so happens to spot her favorite Mexican restaurant. And just as suspiciously, she suddenly develops a craving for a meal of some sort.
'Well, if I'm gonna be late, might as well be hella late,' she thinks to herself as she stops at the restaurant.
After parking her bike, she places her keys in her pocket before heading inside the building, taking in the wonderous scent of the Mexican environment. She then steps forward to the hostess, who's already ready for her.
"Hi, there, Yang," she greets with a beaming smile,
"Hey, Beth," Yang greets back,
"A bit late to go out of your way to come here, isn't it?"
"I'm just coming from my dad's, actually. Then I saw that this place was still open, so…y'know…what the hell? Can never go wrong with Mexican, right?"
"You just wanna piss your mom off, don't you?"
"Heh. No getting past you, Bethine."
"Yeah, I figured. Well, you're gonna have to wait a little bit. About…five…ten minutes?"
"Oh, please, take your time. I am in no rush at all."
They share a chuckle before Yang takes a seat in the waiting area, pulling out her phone and scrolling away. And after half an hour of waiting, Yang's finally met with Beth's presence, garnering her attention.
"Oh, hey, there," she greets after removing an earbud,
"Hey. Just wanted to let you know that a table's finally ready."
"Really? Wow. That was quick. You've got a fat tip in your future, young lady."
"Wow. That's a first."
"Don't get used to it. It isn't exactly my treat tonight."
She reaches into her purse and pulls out a wallet before opening it, revealing her mother's picture. Beth brings a hand to her mouth, gasping and chuckling at the absurdity at hand. Yang then brings a finger to her lips, shushing her as she takes a hundred dollar bill from the wallet and pushes it into Beth's pocket in her jeans. Beth, not objecting to the gift, zips her lips before leading Yang to her table.
"Alright, what'll ya have?" Beth questions as she prepared to jot down the order,
"Hmm," Yang replies, looking at the menu and browsing, "I'll just have the supreme nachos, the grand chimichanga dinner, and…let's go with a fajita plate to really seal the deal."
"Sprites?"
"Sprites."
"Alright, we'll have that out for ya in a jiff."
"Awesome. Take your time. No rush."
Beth closes her notepad and heads off, leaving Yang to her own endeavors again. And aside from the constant dispensing of her beverage, Yang doesn't see much of the hostess. That is until nearly an hour later when she finally receives her food.
"Ok, here's your fajitas, your chimichanga dinner, your cheesy supreme nachos, and just for good measure another Sprite for ya."
"Oh, you spoil me, Beth."
"Only the best for our guests. And if you're wondering about the time, I took the liberty of telling the cooks to really make the order special by not having it that high on their priorities. Such an order takes precise measurements, y'know?"
"You are just a delight."
"I do what I can. If you need anything else, don't hesitate to yell."
"Good to know. Thanks."
Beth then steps away as Yang takes a few bites of her nachos and a few drinks of her drink. And after about fifteen more minutes of being on her phone, she ignores the abundance of text messages she's getting and takes a look at her percentage, which shows a decent thirty percent. Which should be more than enough to get her home with her music.
"Hey," Beth says, approaching her table, noticing she's barely touched her food, "Everything alright?"
"Yeah. I'm actually about to head home. Any way I can get to-go boxes and cups for these?"
"Comin' right up."
She then goes to retrieve the boxes, cups, and bag. Once she returns, Yang packs up her food and drinks before reaching inside her mother's wallet and presenting eight more hundred dollar bills.
"One for everyone in the establishment," she says, placing the wallet back into her purse, "Thanks again."
"No, no. Thank you. Greatest customer ever. Tell your mom I said hi."
"Got it. Night."
"Night, Yang. Drive safe."
Yang collects her barings before stepping out of the establishment and heading home. After parking her bike, she grabs her food and walks up to the front door, retrieving her keys and mentally preparing for the upcoming hellfire that awaits her on the other side. After unlocking the door, she steps inside and closes it, taking a breath.
'5, 4, 3, 2,'
"It's late," she hears Raven's voice say in the living room, "Where were you?"
"With dad, remember?" Yang replies, not even looking at her as she heads into the kitchen,
"You should've been here at 9:15. It's damn near midnight. I'm not gonna ask again. Tell me where you were."
"Out."
"Yang, I'm not in the mood. Where the hell were you? And why weren't you answering me?"
Yang doesn't even acknowledge her. She just stores her food in the fridge. Not content with being ignored, Raven stands up from the couch and heads into the kitchen, blocking the exit.
"Answer me!" she snaps,
"What, a girl can't just enjoy the late night drives like everyone else?" Yang replies, overflowing with smarm, unphased by her mother's tone,
"Yang Xiao Long, I asked you a fucking question! Answer it! Your ass is here before 9:30! That's the rule here! Why are you just getting here at fucking midnight?!"
"Oh, doth my ears deceive me? Is the same mouth preaching punctuality bullshit to me right now attached to the same woman who couldn't find it in her busy schedule to spend a second with her own daughter for the entirety of her adolescence?! Is that really what's going on here?!"
"Don't you take that tone of voice with me! I'm your mother!"
"Could've fooled me, Ms. I-take-the-family-out-of-'family-business'!"
"Well, I'm here now! So as long as that fact remains, you do what I say when I say if you wanna keep living under my fucking roof!"
"Yeah, your fucking roof that's in dad's name! Yup! Your fucking roof that you don't spend a damn dime on! Right, right! It just bothers the shit outta you whenever you don't have control over every little thing, doesn't it?!"
Raven takes a few steps forward, folding her arms as she gets inches away from her daughter's unperturbed face. She then says in a low tone,
"No. What bugs me is someone who doesn't know their place in environments that don't typically favor them because of some self-righteous phase they're going through. And once you've seen your fair share of the same routine of someone being stupid and shooting their mouth off at someone who's more than willing to pop it back in place, you tend to find it getting a bit old after a while. Now, what you will do is head to your room. Then tomorrow, once whatever this is that's making you delude yourself into thinking that you're hot shit wears off, you will apologize to me. And I'm not gonna hear another word outta you. Do I make myself clear?"
Yang clasps her hands behind her back, giving her mother the most nonchalant look she can muster before matching her tone with,
"Or what? What exactly is gonna happen if I don't make that little fantasy of yours a reality? See, I'm not one of your little subjects. Once you've run into enough bullies who push you for their own pleasures, you tend to find out they're just pussies who can't stand being pushed back. So…I'm pushing back. Whatcha gonna do about it?...Pussy?"
She punctuates her point, bringing her hand to her mother's shoulder and shoving her. Raven closes her eyes, taking a breath before chuckling to herself as she looks into her daughter's eyes, which are now slowly shifting from lilac to their blood red shade.
"Ok," she says, "You're your own person. Do whatever you wanna do."
She then steps aside, allowing her daughter to leave the kitchen. Yang gives her a smug smirk before accepting her invitation, being sure to bump into her shoulder in passing. But just when she makes contact with her, Raven grabs her daughter by her hair and yanks her back to face her. Yang, anticipating the maneuver, shifts her body towards her mother before delivering a powerful headbutt to her lip, causing her to stumble back to the fridge.
Yang glares daggers at her, daring her to make another move. Raven brings two fingers to her lip, wiping away the blood from it before darting at Yang. Yang, again, evades her mother's maneuver, managing to pin her against the wall before kneeing her in her stomach. Raven then grabs onto her leg and trips the other, causing Yang to fall to the floor. She then mounts her daughter, attempting a punch to her jaw, which Yang dodges and counters with a punch of her own, switching their positions and wrapping her hands around Raven's throat.
Raven brings her hands to Yang's arms, digging her nails into her skin. Yang withstands the piercing for a bit before finally giving in and releasing her grip. Raven then manages her foot between them and kicks Yang back against a nearby cabinet. She then sits up and the pair just sit in their current positions, breathless and scowling at each other.
"I fucking hate you," Yang declares, making her way back to her feet,
"I hate you right back, you conceited little bitch."
"Apple doesn't fall far from the tree in that regard, huh?"
"I wish you were never born."
"I wish Ruby was spared the burden of being birthed by you."
Silence. Raven can only recoil at that last statement. Even Yang's surprised by the phrase. She never wanted her sister to be involved in this in any way. It just slipped out. But the damage has been done. And that damage is made abundantly clear as what Yang sees next shocks her to her core. Raven's…tearing up. And without another word, she steps out of the kitchen and rushes upstairs. Moments later, Yang hears her bedroom door slam shut.
And after moments of coming to terms with what just happened, Yang goes to the fridge and fetches herself a cup of Sprite before heading to the living room and turning on the TV after sitting on the couch. She decides to camp there for the night both because of laziness and because her room is right next to Raven's and she's not nearly in the mindset to deal with being anywhere near her. Maybe that'll change tomorrow.
Also, this is serving as a prototype for mixing story and porn. Both are great on their own, but together, they're unmatched. So I wanna try my hand with it. So hopefully, ya like it....alright, dassitdassall.
"Hmm…B7," Yang guesses,
"Miss," Ruby responds, earning a grunt in return, "...E…2?"
"Dammit!"
"Hahaha! I told you, Ms. Doubtfire! You! Can't! Beat me! I'm the best! I am the very powerful! Witness the true greatness shining upon you!"
The two sisters share a laugh after the display of dumbassery from the young girl.
"Oh, calm down, Ms. Braggart," Yang replies, cleaning up the game, "You won a couple of board games. So what? Any joe schmoe could get lucky twice."
"Uh huh. Keep finding different ways of coping with the fact that you're getting your butt kicked by your little sister."
"Alright, big shot. Gloves are off now. Which game's next?"
Ruby takes a moment to think of her options, but she's soon interrupted as her father suddenly swoops her up in the air, causing her to squeal in joy as he turns her about before setting her down on her feet and kneeling down to her level.
"I've got a game for ya," he says, looking her in the eyes and poking her nose, "It's single player, though. So Yang can't join in, unfortunately. It's called 'brush your teeth and head on up to bed'. Patent pending."
"Awww."
"I know, I know. But you've already been up half an hour past your bedtime. You've gotta go to bed at some point, Rubes."
"5 more minutes?"
"In another lifetime maybe."
"Pleeease?"
"Ruby."
Yang chuckles at the back and forth before deciding to go with ol' reliable.
"Don't worry, Ruby. Tomorrow's gonna be much better anyways. We'll get to play more with more time in our arsonal?"
"Yaaay!" Ruby rejoices with Tai turning to her with a feigned look of disapproval of the plan,
"And how do you plan to make good on that promise, young lady?"
"Come on, she's a kid," Yang replies, "She's gotta have some fun."
"You're half right. She's still a kid. So she needs to be in bed at the appropriate time or everything falls out of whack."
"Ok, ok, how's about this: we play three quarters past her bedtime."
"...Ten minutes."
"Two and a half quarters."
"Twelve minutes and you only do half the dishes from now on."
"Two quarters and I take care of dinner every visit."
"...Alright, deal."
Ruby rejoices from the compromise, not knowing that that's practically the same deal that they've had for the past few months.
"Ok, but that's tomorrow. This is tonight."
"Ok, ok."
Ruby then latches onto Yang's waist, embracing her in a warm hug, which Yang reciprocates. She then ruffles her little sister's hair before poking her sides, earning cute giggles in response.
"Alright, see ya tomorrow, sis. Don't destroy the place while I'm gone."
"No promises," Ruby replies with a grin,
"Guess that's all I'm gonna get. Whatever. Shoo, ya little rascal."
Yang scoots the girl away with her giggling in response before heading upstairs to her bathroom, leaving Tai and Yang to their own conversation.
"Ok, serious time," Tai says, turning to his daughter and folding his arms, "Are you ok?"
"I'm good. Honest. This stopped meaning as much as it did after the first visit. Her smile does a lot, y'know?"
"Yeah. I know what you mean there. But I just wanna make sure. If…she's making you uncomfortable in any way-..."
"Dad, I'm fine. I swear. Just a matter of getting her off my ass at times."
"Yuuup. And speaking of which-..."
He pulls out his phone, looking at the time. He then recoils as he receives his answer.
"9:38. That's gonna be a fun conversation at this time of night. Want me to chaufer?"
"Nah. Not like she'll have the balls to do anything to me. Or even care enough to really make a big deal out of it. Plus, you've still got a rowdy little monster to tend to."
"Yeah, guess you're right. Ok, stay safe, sweetheart. I love you."
"Love you, too."
They embrace each other in a hug with Tai kissing the top of Yang's head before they separate and Yang heads out the front door. As she rides home on her bike, Yang, just so happens to spot her favorite Mexican restaurant. And just as suspiciously, she suddenly develops a craving for a meal of some sort.
'Well, if I'm gonna be late, might as well be hella late,' she thinks to herself as she stops at the restaurant.
After parking her bike, she places her keys in her pocket before heading inside the building, taking in the wonderous scent of the Mexican environment. She then steps forward to the hostess, who's already ready for her.
"Hi, there, Yang," she greets with a beaming smile,
"Hey, Beth," Yang greets back,
"A bit late to go out of your way to come here, isn't it?"
"I'm just coming from my dad's, actually. Then I saw that this place was still open, so…y'know…what the hell? Can never go wrong with Mexican, right?"
"You just wanna piss your mom off, don't you?"
"Heh. No getting past you, Bethine."
"Yeah, I figured. Well, you're gonna have to wait a little bit. About…five…ten minutes?"
"Oh, please, take your time. I am in no rush at all."
They share a chuckle before Yang takes a seat in the waiting area, pulling out her phone and scrolling away. And after half an hour of waiting, Yang's finally met with Beth's presence, garnering her attention.
"Oh, hey, there," she greets after removing an earbud,
"Hey. Just wanted to let you know that a table's finally ready."
"Really? Wow. That was quick. You've got a fat tip in your future, young lady."
"Wow. That's a first."
"Don't get used to it. It isn't exactly my treat tonight."
She reaches into her purse and pulls out a wallet before opening it, revealing her mother's picture. Beth brings a hand to her mouth, gasping and chuckling at the absurdity at hand. Yang then brings a finger to her lips, shushing her as she takes a hundred dollar bill from the wallet and pushes it into Beth's pocket in her jeans. Beth, not objecting to the gift, zips her lips before leading Yang to her table.
"Alright, what'll ya have?" Beth questions as she prepared to jot down the order,
"Hmm," Yang replies, looking at the menu and browsing, "I'll just have the supreme nachos, the grand chimichanga dinner, and…let's go with a fajita plate to really seal the deal."
"Sprites?"
"Sprites."
"Alright, we'll have that out for ya in a jiff."
"Awesome. Take your time. No rush."
Beth closes her notepad and heads off, leaving Yang to her own endeavors again. And aside from the constant dispensing of her beverage, Yang doesn't see much of the hostess. That is until nearly an hour later when she finally receives her food.
"Ok, here's your fajitas, your chimichanga dinner, your cheesy supreme nachos, and just for good measure another Sprite for ya."
"Oh, you spoil me, Beth."
"Only the best for our guests. And if you're wondering about the time, I took the liberty of telling the cooks to really make the order special by not having it that high on their priorities. Such an order takes precise measurements, y'know?"
"You are just a delight."
"I do what I can. If you need anything else, don't hesitate to yell."
"Good to know. Thanks."
Beth then steps away as Yang takes a few bites of her nachos and a few drinks of her drink. And after about fifteen more minutes of being on her phone, she ignores the abundance of text messages she's getting and takes a look at her percentage, which shows a decent thirty percent. Which should be more than enough to get her home with her music.
"Hey," Beth says, approaching her table, noticing she's barely touched her food, "Everything alright?"
"Yeah. I'm actually about to head home. Any way I can get to-go boxes and cups for these?"
"Comin' right up."
She then goes to retrieve the boxes, cups, and bag. Once she returns, Yang packs up her food and drinks before reaching inside her mother's wallet and presenting eight more hundred dollar bills.
"One for everyone in the establishment," she says, placing the wallet back into her purse, "Thanks again."
"No, no. Thank you. Greatest customer ever. Tell your mom I said hi."
"Got it. Night."
"Night, Yang. Drive safe."
Yang collects her barings before stepping out of the establishment and heading home. After parking her bike, she grabs her food and walks up to the front door, retrieving her keys and mentally preparing for the upcoming hellfire that awaits her on the other side. After unlocking the door, she steps inside and closes it, taking a breath.
'5, 4, 3, 2,'
"It's late," she hears Raven's voice say in the living room, "Where were you?"
"With dad, remember?" Yang replies, not even looking at her as she heads into the kitchen,
"You should've been here at 9:15. It's damn near midnight. I'm not gonna ask again. Tell me where you were."
"Out."
"Yang, I'm not in the mood. Where the hell were you? And why weren't you answering me?"
Yang doesn't even acknowledge her. She just stores her food in the fridge. Not content with being ignored, Raven stands up from the couch and heads into the kitchen, blocking the exit.
"Answer me!" she snaps,
"What, a girl can't just enjoy the late night drives like everyone else?" Yang replies, overflowing with smarm, unphased by her mother's tone,
"Yang Xiao Long, I asked you a fucking question! Answer it! Your ass is here before 9:30! That's the rule here! Why are you just getting here at fucking midnight?!"
"Oh, doth my ears deceive me? Is the same mouth preaching punctuality bullshit to me right now attached to the same woman who couldn't find it in her busy schedule to spend a second with her own daughter for the entirety of her adolescence?! Is that really what's going on here?!"
"Don't you take that tone of voice with me! I'm your mother!"
"Could've fooled me, Ms. I-take-the-family-out-of-'family-business'!"
"Well, I'm here now! So as long as that fact remains, you do what I say when I say if you wanna keep living under my fucking roof!"
"Yeah, your fucking roof that's in dad's name! Yup! Your fucking roof that you don't spend a damn dime on! Right, right! It just bothers the shit outta you whenever you don't have control over every little thing, doesn't it?!"
Raven takes a few steps forward, folding her arms as she gets inches away from her daughter's unperturbed face. She then says in a low tone,
"No. What bugs me is someone who doesn't know their place in environments that don't typically favor them because of some self-righteous phase they're going through. And once you've seen your fair share of the same routine of someone being stupid and shooting their mouth off at someone who's more than willing to pop it back in place, you tend to find it getting a bit old after a while. Now, what you will do is head to your room. Then tomorrow, once whatever this is that's making you delude yourself into thinking that you're hot shit wears off, you will apologize to me. And I'm not gonna hear another word outta you. Do I make myself clear?"
Yang clasps her hands behind her back, giving her mother the most nonchalant look she can muster before matching her tone with,
"Or what? What exactly is gonna happen if I don't make that little fantasy of yours a reality? See, I'm not one of your little subjects. Once you've run into enough bullies who push you for their own pleasures, you tend to find out they're just pussies who can't stand being pushed back. So…I'm pushing back. Whatcha gonna do about it?...Pussy?"
She punctuates her point, bringing her hand to her mother's shoulder and shoving her. Raven closes her eyes, taking a breath before chuckling to herself as she looks into her daughter's eyes, which are now slowly shifting from lilac to their blood red shade.
"Ok," she says, "You're your own person. Do whatever you wanna do."
She then steps aside, allowing her daughter to leave the kitchen. Yang gives her a smug smirk before accepting her invitation, being sure to bump into her shoulder in passing. But just when she makes contact with her, Raven grabs her daughter by her hair and yanks her back to face her. Yang, anticipating the maneuver, shifts her body towards her mother before delivering a powerful headbutt to her lip, causing her to stumble back to the fridge.
Yang glares daggers at her, daring her to make another move. Raven brings two fingers to her lip, wiping away the blood from it before darting at Yang. Yang, again, evades her mother's maneuver, managing to pin her against the wall before kneeing her in her stomach. Raven then grabs onto her leg and trips the other, causing Yang to fall to the floor. She then mounts her daughter, attempting a punch to her jaw, which Yang dodges and counters with a punch of her own, switching their positions and wrapping her hands around Raven's throat.
Raven brings her hands to Yang's arms, digging her nails into her skin. Yang withstands the piercing for a bit before finally giving in and releasing her grip. Raven then manages her foot between them and kicks Yang back against a nearby cabinet. She then sits up and the pair just sit in their current positions, breathless and scowling at each other.
"I fucking hate you," Yang declares, making her way back to her feet,
"I hate you right back, you conceited little bitch."
"Apple doesn't fall far from the tree in that regard, huh?"
"I wish you were never born."
"I wish Ruby was spared the burden of being birthed by you."
Silence. Raven can only recoil at that last statement. Even Yang's surprised by the phrase. She never wanted her sister to be involved in this in any way. It just slipped out. But the damage has been done. And that damage is made abundantly clear as what Yang sees next shocks her to her core. Raven's…tearing up. And without another word, she steps out of the kitchen and rushes upstairs. Moments later, Yang hears her bedroom door slam shut.
And after moments of coming to terms with what just happened, Yang goes to the fridge and fetches herself a cup of Sprite before heading to the living room and turning on the TV after sitting on the couch. She decides to camp there for the night both because of laziness and because her room is right next to Raven's and she's not nearly in the mindset to deal with being anywhere near her. Maybe that'll change tomorrow.
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Chapter by
ninhjimmy007 · 14 Jun 2025 -
After Chloe transforms into Beatrice, he finds it kinky with her transformation or regeneration when she changes into someone else. Plus, it's hard to imagine that Beatrice was his girlfriend. Then again, it's way better than Doctor Who.
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Liam woke up the next day, his mind still reeling from the events of the night before. He looked over at the woman sleeping beside him, her massive O-cup tits rising and falling with each breath. It was hard to believe that this middle-aged British woman was once his redheaded girlfriend, Chloe.
Beatrice stirred, her eyes fluttering open as she looked up at Liam with a warm smile. "Morning, love. What's got you looking so pensive?"
Liam shook his head, his mouth curving into a grin. "Nothing, just that... you're really something else, Beatrice. I can't believe how much you've changed."
Beatrice giggled, her large breasts jiggling with the movement. "Changed? Love, I've always been this fabulous."
She climbed out of bed, her naked body on full display as she stretched languidly. Liam watched, his cock already hardening at the sight of her. She was so different from Chloe, her body more voluptuous, her personality more joyful and adventurous. And he had to admit, it was a hell of a turn-on.
Beatrice turned to him, her hands on her hips. "Now, love, I need to find something to wear. I can't exactly go gallivanting about in my birthday suit, now can I?"
Liam grinned, his eyes roaming over her body. "I don't know, I think you'd cause quite a stir."
Beatrice laughed, a warm, throaty sound that sent a jolt of lust straight to Liam's cock. "Cheeky boy," she said, before turning to Chloe's closet.
She pulled out a dress, holding it up to her body as she looked in the mirror. She frowned, her eyes narrowing as she looked at the small, slim garment.
"Bloody hell, love. I don't think I can fit into any of these," she said, turning to Liam with a pout. "Got any bigger clothes I can borrow?"
Liam thought for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, my mom has some stuff that might fit you. Come on, let's go find something."
They rummaged through his mom's closet, Beatrice pulling out dresses and blouses and holding them up to her body. She finally settled on a form-fitting knee-length dress that hugged her curves perfectly.
Liam looked at her, his mouth open in awe. She looked incredible, her large breasts prominent, her wide hips and round ass showcased to perfection. She looked like a sexy MILF, not the teenager she once was.
"Wow, Beatrice. You look... amazing," Liam said, his voice filled with admiration.
Beatrice grinned, doing a little twirl. "Why, thank you, love. Now come on, let's go paint the town red."
They headed out together, Liam's hand entwined with Beatrice's as they explored the town. It felt strange to be dating a hot British MILF, but at the same time, it was exhilarating. Beatrice was so different from Chloe, her personality more outgoing, more adventurous. And Liam found himself falling for her, just as he had fallen for Chloe.
They stopped at a small café, sitting down at a table by the window as they sipped their coffees. Beatrice reached out, her hand cupping Liam's face as she leaned in to kiss him.
Liam kissed her back, his tongue tangling with hers as their kiss deepened. When they finally pulled away, they were both breathless, their eyes filled with love and lust.
"You know, love," Beatrice said, her voice husky with desire. "I can't wait to get you alone again. I want to feel you inside me, fucking me, making me scream your name."
Liam groaned, his cock throbbing with need. "I want that too, Beatrice. I want that so fucking bad."
And so began their new life together. Days turned into weeks, and weeks into a month. And with each passing day, Liam found himself falling more and more in love with Beatrice.
One evening, as they lay in bed together, Liam's body entwined with Beatrice's, he looked into her eyes, his heart pounding with love.
"I love you, Beatrice," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "I love you so much."
Beatrice smiled, her eyes soft with love. "I love you too, Liam. More than anything in this world."
Liam kissed her then, his lips capturing hers in a soft, gentle caress. But the kiss quickly deepened, their tongues tangling as their bodies pressed together.
Liam's hands roamed over Beatrice's body, his fingers tracing the curves of her waist, her hips, her thighs. He cupped her large breasts, his thumbs brushing over her hard nipples as he kissed her deeply.
Beatrice moaned, her body arching into his touch. "Yes, Liam. Touch me, love. Touch me there."
Liam slid his hand down to her pussy, his fingers sliding into her easily. She was already wet, her body ready for him. He fucked her with his fingers, his thumb circling her clit as he kissed her deeply.
Beatrice moaned louder, her body moving with his, her hips thrusting against his touch. "Yes, Liam. Yes! Just like that. Make me cum, baby. Make me cum all over your hand."
Liam did just that, his fingers moving faster, his thumb pressing harder against her clit. When she came, it was with a scream of pleasure, her body convulsing with the force of her orgasm.
But Liam wasn't done. He wasn't even close. He spun her around, pressing her down onto her hands and knees as he positioned himself behind her. With one hard thrust, he was inside her, his cock filling her completely.
Beatrice moaned, her body shaking with pleasure as he began to fuck her hard and deep. His hands reached around, grabbing her large breasts as he pounded into her.
"Yes, Liam. Yes! Fuck me, baby. Fuck me hard and deep."
Liam did just that, his body moving with hers in a fast, urgent rhythm. He could feel his orgasm building, his body tensing as he approached the edge.
But suddenly, something strange began to happen. Beatrice's body started to glow, a soft, golden light emanating from her skin. Liam stared in awe and confusion as the light grew brighter, enveloping them both.
"Liam? Love, what's happening? Why is my body... glowing?" Beatrice gasped, her body convulsing with a different kind of force.
Liam could only stare as her body began to change, her curves shifting and growing, her skin darkening, her hair changing from a soft brown to a wild mass of dark curls.
The glow faded, and in place of Beatrice was a beautiful black woman with exotic features and a body that was both familiar and alien.
The woman looked at Liam, her eyes wide with shock and confusion. "Hoowie... dat is one 'ell of a ride. Wazzup, white boi, Are chu enjoy fucking me?" she asked, her voice filled with a mix of surprise and amusement.
Liam stared at her, his mouth open in shock. "Who... who are you?" he asked, his voice hesitant.
The woman grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Damn, baby. Didchu head cho head or something? I'm Jasmine DaBootay, honey. Your black chocolate girrrlfriend, Don't tell me chu forgot, or are you fuckin' with me?"
Liam looked at her, his heart pounding. He knew that something incredible had just happened, something that defied all logic and reason. But at the same time, he found himself inexplicably turned on by her transformation.
He leaned in, his lips capturing hers in a fierce kiss. Jasmine gasped, her body freezing for a moment before melting into him. She moaned softly, her body pressing against his as their kiss deepened.
When they finally pulled away, they were both breathless, their bodies shaking with need. Liam looked at her, his eyes filled with determination.
"I don't know what's happening," he said, his voice husky with lust. "But I know that I want you. I want you so fucking bad."
Jasmine looked at him, her eyes filled with a mix of shock and desire. She knew that this was wrong, that she shouldn't be feeling this way about a stranger. But she also knew that she couldn't deny the heat that was pooling between her legs.
"Well, honey, I don't know what's goin' on either," she said, her voice a sultry purr. "But I ain't never been one to turn down a good fuck. So come on, baby. Let's see what you got."
And with that, they began another round, their bodies moving together in a wild, passionate dance. And as they fucked, Liam knew that this was just the beginning. The beginning of a new adventure, a new journey, a new love. And—
Fuck, what kind of adventure was this turning into?
Next Chapters
Chapter 3 - Ebony from Da Hood in Girlfriend What - A Doctor Who Regeneration Parody
by
ninhjimmy007
· 14 Jun 2025
First is Chloe, second is Beatrice the MILF, and now the third is Jasmine. Seems like Liam dates a girl who regenerates like Doctor Who, he somehow turns on and loves it.
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