“What are you talking about, twerp?” you say with irritation. “I'm busy. You can play your little 'payback' game on me some other time.”
As you turn your attention back to the antics of Redd Foxx and Demond Wilson on the television, Sarah points a strange little remote control device at you.
There's a bright, yellow beam of glowing radiant light that streams forth from Sarah's remote and quickly engulfs you.
Struggling to move, you discover the ray of light has completely paralyzed you.
Sarah fiddles with some other buttons on the remote control, and you next feel your body start to swell. You're getting bigger … both taller and more plump. Your chest feels heavy, and your hips, thighs, and backside all feel somehow padded out.
As abruptly as it began, the bizarre ordeal is suddenly over and you find yourself able to speak and move.
“Sarah, what's the big idea …” you start to say.
You stop however when you hear your mother's smooth, contralto voice come from your lips.
“Still too busy to talk to me?” says Sarah with an evil smirk.
“What'd you do to me?” you say, leaping to your feet.
The proportions of your body are all off. You've got the large, pendulous breasts of your thirty-six year old mother. Glancing down at your body, you see how ridiculous you look, still dressed in your old t-shirt and jeans. Your clothes are all way too small and tight-fitting for the curvaceous, mature body of your adult mother.
“Give me back my body!” you growl at Sarah, trying to sound menacing. Instead, the result is the familiar, irritated voice of your mother when she gets impatient with you kids.
“No,” says Sarah simply. “We're not done yet. You've put me through a lot over the years, Nicholas. This is payback time. And unless you play along, just like I order you to do, I can use my new toy to change you into a lot more worse things than mom.”
“What do you want?” you ask.
“For the next few days, you're going to be mom,” answers Sarah. “And you're going to spoil me, letting me do anything I like, and taking me shopping to buy me everything I want.”
“You think mom and dad will let you get away with this?” you ask.
“I've already taken care of mom and dad,” says Sarah with a giggle. “You're the last one to get changed. They've agreed to play along with me. Soon enough you'll see what's become of them!”
“What did you do to them?” you demand.
“I told you, be patient: you'll find out soon enough,” says Sarah. “But first, you better go to your bedroom and put on some appropriate clothes, 'Mom.' Why are you dressed in all of Nicholas' stuff? You look ridiculous. Go to your and dad's bedroom and put on your own clothes, right this minute!”
For a moment, you contemplate crossing Sarah and refusing to comply with her crazy wishes. But as long as she's in possession of that strange remote control, Sarah is the absolute boss here. There's no telling what she already did to your mom and dad! So, reluctantly you trudge off to your parents' bedroom.
Stripping out of your old clothes proves difficult because everything fits so tightly on your new body. Your mom is pretty fit, but with with the large breasts, hips, and thighs that comprise her hourglass figure, the attire of a sixteen-year old boy is a tight squeeze.
Once naked, you avoid catching a glimpse of your new body, as that would feel just wrong. Instead, you grope about blindly in your mom's underwear drawer, pulling out a pair of green satin panties wide enough for your new behind. You easily manage to find a matching bra, but wind up struggling for several humiliating moments to get the stiff, lacy garment properly fitted over the large, swollen breasts that have been dangling and flopping about loosely on your bare chest.
Grabbing a pair of your mom's socks at random, you slide them onto your feet and discover they're fuzzy, warm, charcoal gray knee socks – the kind she always wears under the tall, high-heeled boots she's constantly wearing. Next, you pad over to the closet and select a long, denim skirt with slits up the side. You've seen your mom wear this plenty of times with a dark green sweater, so you figure you're safe in putting this together as an outfit. After wiggling into the skirt, you find the sweater as well. It's remarkably soft, with a cable knit pattern across it. At first, it looks big and comfortable, but after pulling it over your shoulders and breasts, you discover it's actually a tight fit that sharply accentuates the figure of your shapely, new chest.
Finally, you slide on your mom's trademark black, leather high-heeled boots. Though you teeter clumsily in the two-inch tall heels at first, after a few moments you find yourself practiced enough in them to cautiously walk back down the hall and face your six-year old tormentor.
As you enter the room, Sarah doubles over in laughter.
“Hi, mom!” she giggles. “I love your outfit.”
You've got to think of some way of getting that remote control away from her! As long as she's in possession of that strange, incredible device, you'll have no choice but to submit to her will.
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