This choice: You found yourself recalling your mother's thoughts and memories • Go Back...Chapter #4You found yourself recalling your mother's ... by: Wassel Opening your eyes, you no longer felt groggy and numb. Whatever drugs the doctors had pumped you full of having seemingly worn off. Which meant that you were now super aware of something not feeling at all right with your body. Your brain naturally taking a while to catch up. Feeling hair tickling you in places it had never done before. On your face, neck and shoulders. As well as something extremely heavy and bloated resting upon your chest. No... Not resting. It was your chest. Feeling it physically moving as you breathed. What the fuck?!
Lowering your gaze and being confronted with two ginormous lumps pushing out of the front of the hospital gown you were clothed in. Only then realizing what they were. What had happened. They were breasts. Your mother's breasts.
"Oh God..." you whimpered as your previous encounter with the two doctors immediately came rushing back. Having so desperately hoped that it had all been a dream. A really perverse, really fucked up dream. But no, it wasn't. Your mother was dead. She'd died in the car crash. And you... You were now inside her body. You were your mom.
On realizing this and not only looking down to see her breasts attached to your chest, but feeling them there as well, you naturally began to panic. This being simply too much for your brain to handle. Your breathing getting heavy and your head dizzy as you tore your eyes away from those two large mounds and scanned your surroundings. The hospital room being empty, but you could see a small bathroom in the corner. A bathroom that you very much needed to get to. Feeling like you were going to be sick. This feeling intensifying as you began to pull yourself up. Due to your body no longer moving like it once did. Your exceptionally heavy chest now jiggling and swaying, while your hips also felt unnaturally huge. Causing even more distress as you clambered out of bed. Trying your best to block out these truly disturbing sensations. Which obviously wasn't easy. Your entire center of balance being thrown completely off. Leading you to stumble awkwardly as soon as your feet touched the cold hospital floor.
Somehow you managed to make it to the bathroom without collapsing. Throwing the door open and almost immediately falling to your knees in front of the toilet. Emptying the contents of your stomach into the bowl. Tears streaming down your face as the enormity of what had happened and the loss of your mother hit you full force in the gut. Wanting more than anything for your mother's soft, soothing voice to tell you that, "Everything is going to be alright" as she gently rubbed your back. Even though you knew that this was impossible. Her voice now being yours, along with everything else.
While you continued to be sick your mother's blonde hair kept falling in front of your face, obscuring your vision. Repeatedly brushing it out of the way only to have it fall right back again. This frustration, compounded with everything else, transforming you into a mess of tears and sick as you clung on tightly to the toilet bowl. It being the only thing that offered any comfort..
Or so you thought...
As your stomach settled and you collapsed against the tiled wall, confronted with the eerie and unsettling sight of your mother's smooth, slender legs and dainty feet sticking out the bottom of the hospital gown (as well as her impossible to miss chest), a strange sort of calm suddenly overtook you. Feeling your short, sharp breaths level out as a very specific thought began to repeat itself inside your head. That thought being, "It's okay, sweetheart. It's okay. I'm with you."
Finding yourself muttering in response, "Muh... Muh-Mom?" Looking around the small bathroom as if expecting to see her there. Only you were alone. There wasn't anyone else around. It was just you and your thoughts.
"I'm right here, Tim. Right inside your head. Right inside our head."
And rather than freaking out, you let yourself continue to be calmed. Picturing your mother smiling lovingly at you like she always did. The fear giving way to a sense of peace. Like she really was here.
You... You are with me, aren't you? you replied. This time inside your head. Recalling something that one of the doctor's had said about attaching a part of your brain to your mom's. Meaning that your brains were now pretty much one and the same. Her mind in yours and vice versa.
"Of course. I'll always be with you," your 'mother' answered. Knowing full well that it wasn't really her. That it was in fact you conjuring up whatever thoughts and memories still existed inside her brain. Creating an inner monologue that for all intensive purposes really did feel like her. Like she was actually talking to you. Which, in your current state, was exactly what you needed.
"And I know this is scary and you feel like you are all alone," 'she' then continued. Her tone, inflection, everything being every bit your mom. "But I assure you, you're not. I love you, sweetheart, so much. And I don't want you to be in pain or feel guilty about what has happened. I'm just happy that you're still alive. That I could help you in some way. As hard as this is going to be for you going forward."
Buh...Buh-but...
"No. No buts, Tim. You've been given a second chance and I want you to make the most of it. I want you to live for both of us. I want you to make every single moment count."
Your mother having always been one of those 'seize the day' type people. Never one to wallow in sadness or let things get her down. Telling you then, "Now... Get up. There's no point sitting there crying on the floor. Get up and face what you've become." In much the same way she'd tell you to get up out of bed in the mornings, or get your homework done. Knowing full well that it was pointless to argue.
Doing as you were told, you lifted your alien form up off the floor and flushed the toilet. Moving towards the sink then to wash your hands. Above which sat a mirror. Experiencing a shiver of dread when you saw it. Recalling the macabre sight of your mother's horrified looking face staring back at you the last time. It being an image that was burned now into your brain.
"It's just a face, sweetheart. My face," 'she' said, on sensing your hesitation. "It's not like you've never seen it before." Lightly chuckling now.
I... I know. But on you, you told 'her', Not on me. There being a huge difference.
Not that 'she' agreed with this. Informing you that, "There's really no difference, trust me. It still looks just the same as back then. And remember, I'm here with you every step of the way. So there's nothing to be frightened of."
This once again calming you down. Picturing her right there beside you, holding your hand. Just when you were little. Smiling, Thanks, Mom.
Taking a deep breath and moving towards the mirror, you watched as she appeared. Looking, right enough, just like you remembered. Albeit with slightly messier hair and a few stitches. Though the red puffiness around her eyes had now completely vanished. Looking much more rejuvenated than she had the last time.
"See. There I am."
It being freaky certainly, seeing a face reflecting back at you that was not your own, but it was comforting also. As if she really was right there with you now. Same shoulder length blonde hair. Same bright green eyes. Same soft, caring, motherly face that you'd grown up with these past 16 years. Only it was now moving as you moved. Mimicking you exactly.
"This is... This is so weird..." you softly uttered. Once again hearing her voice replacing your own. Which didn't sound right at all.
"I know it is, sweetheart. But we'll get through it," your 'mom' assured you. "Together."
Moving your eyes a little lower then, you scanned the rest of your now motherly form (or at least as much of it as you could see in the mirror). The gown you were currently dressed in hiding much of it. Though obviously there was no hiding the large bulges that were pushing right out of your chest and tugging at the drab green material. Your mom having been a very busty lady. Which wasn't something you really liked to dwell on truth be told, but it was kind of hard not to. Not with them right there. Not when you could actually feel their weight. Having always been kind of breast obsessed and now you had a pair of your very own. A huge pair at that. The fact that they were indeed your mom's making this extremely difficult to rectify.
But, while you were busy staring at them in awkward disbelief, your 'mother' merely chuckled. Don't worry, they won't bite. They're just breasts after all. All women have them. And besides, aren't you the one who's always looking at those big boobed porno actresses online? Or reading those stories about what it would be like to have your own?
Feeling pretty embarrassed that she actually knew about that. Before remembering, Of course she does. She's me! Whacking off to porn, along with playing video games, being pretty much your number one past time. And you'd be lying if you said you'd never fantasized about what it might be like to be a chick. Ever since stumbling across a website that dealt with that very subject. Never imagining though that this fantasy would actually come true.
indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
| Members who added to this interactive story also contributed to these: |
<<-- Previous · Outline · Recent Additions © Copyright 2025 Wassel (UN: wassel29 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Wassel has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work within this interactive story. Poster accepts all responsibility, legal and otherwise, for the content uploaded, submitted to and posted on Writing.Com. |