Mommy Mayhem - Part 4

It had been a long, tough day for Theo, and he was thoroughly exhausted. He and his mother, Holly, had swapped bodies, and he had successfully been able to avoid raising any suspicions with his father. Theo, as Holly, had shared a few beers with his father, and his inhibitions with regard to his mother's body were now sufficiently lowered. Theo stood in front of his mother's vanity mirror, staring deep into his mother's eyes –his eyes now.

He raised his hand to touch his face, his fingers tracing the curves of his lips, the lines of his cheeks, and the contours of his chin. It was strange, feeling so foreign in his own body. 

Theo's eyes trailed down to his mother's breasts, which were now his own. He thought about how utterly unique this was, to now possess the same breasts whose milk had nursed him to health when he was just an infant. He traced his hands down his mother's stomach. He thought about how Holly had been pregnant and how she'd been transformed by carrying a life –his own life– inside her. Inside of this stomach. He thought about how amazing it was that he was now the very woman who had carried him to term. That she had grown him inside of her own body for nine months, and now, here he was wearing that same body as his own.

His hands then moved down further still towards his hips and bottom. He couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of Holly's body which he was now living in. The curves of her backside and thighs seemed so naturally graceful.

He thought about how he had been conceived. He thought about how his mother's legs had been spread and how his father had been inside of her, stretching her, filling her with his seed. How she must have enjoyed it. How these lips he now possessed might've contorted themselves into a satisfied smile. He imagined the moment when life was born inside of Holly – when all those cells converged and began to form him – Theo. It seemed so surreal to him now that he now possessed the physical and biological ability to feel those same sensations as she did then.

"This is so weird," he whispered to her. His mother's lips –his lips- moved in sync with his words.

He turned his head to one side, and then the other, hoping that the image in the mirror would alter. It did not. 

Theo imagined that he was his mother –that he was Holly– looking at her own reflection. How strange it must be for her to have given birth to a baby boy who would eventually have the opportunity to have her body to himself. To look through her eyes, as if they were his own.

Theo ran his hand through his mother's hair –his hair- and imagined what it must have been like to have been born as the opposite sex. To have grown up with a body like this.

Theo removed his mother's clothes from her body, and imagined that it was his own body, that he was undressing himself, just as he had done countless times before, but this time he was doing it as a woman.

He saw his mother's body –his body– and he wanted to embrace it. He welcomed it.