Feeling drowsy as you wake up and open your eyelids slowly, your foggy state of mind clearing up as the white ceiling of the hospital room comes into your view. Your memories are fuzzy to say the least, the last thing you remember was getting back from a local football game with your best friend Tim and his family before hearing a loud noise and blacking out. You weren't really into sports per say but it was a good event to get together with you best buddy and hang out, the alternative being stuck with your crazy religious zealot of a step mother. You'd take seeing burly men smash into each other over dealing with her any day of the week.
You must have had a car crash, seeing how you woke up in a hospital but just something feels off. Your body feels different, not in a painful way but just different, almost as if the proportions are all wrong. 'Oh god, I'm not crippled am I?' you immediately thought as you regain more and more of your sense, being able to move your hands now. Feeling as if there is a lagged response between your brain and your body before that slowly goes completely away. Raising your arm up towards the ceiling before noticing how slender your arms have gotten. 'Geez how long have I been in here' you wondered before bring your hands down closer towards your face for a closer inspection. Having your hands near your face, you see how slender your fingers are now. Slender, long and with surprisingly long nails. Being a lot more feminine then you remember seeming almost unrecognizable really.
Though you've never been the brawniest of the bunch, the image of a Randall with ripped abs and bulging muscles you hope could get some of the hotties in the school to turn their heads. Granted you that what was in your mind, though in reality your efforts at the gym were really just no existent. Having always preferred to spend a Saturday night playing xbox with friends then to pump iron. You sigh in disappointment as that fantasy of a buff Randall disappears further into being just a fantasy.
Moving your head down a little a lock of blonde hair gets in your way. Blonde? You weren’t blonde, what was going on you questioned before seeing two large mounts obstructing your view. Wait two huge mounts, what the fuck is going on as you quickly sit up and look down. You rush to grab your chest not expecting your chest to feel soft and pillow sensation upon touching them. Almost feeling like breast, massive breast in fact.
But before anything else you hear the distant chatter of two men in the background. Those noises becoming more and more clear as you turn your head sideways and see two doctors walk in.
"Look at the results Bill, no scarring of tissue post-surgery and patient showing significant signs of recovery. It worked didn't it"
"We don't know that fully until the patient is fully conscience, besides that's not the point. That was a huge risk to take, especially on a minor. Our careers could be ruined"
"Or be made, this is medical history in the making Bill" They continued before one of the doctors notices you shifting yourself up a little on the hospital bed.
"Look! up already, it's been a remarkable time to recovery" One of the doctors stated before quickly and enthusiastically pulling a close stool nearby and sitting down.
“Hello Randall, glad to see you’ve awoken”
“What happened to me” you yell in confusion and desperation.
The two doctors looked each other before explaining to you what happened, about the crash and the surgery. How Mrs. Connors didn’t make it due to a brain clout that had killed her but left her body untouched which had then lead to her body being the catalyst for your survival. With your body from neck down badly mangled in the crash and no chance of survival, the doctors took a risky gamble to save you. Having tested an experimental brain surgery on you and taken the personality portion of your brain and transplanting on hers.
“Could I have a look” you request of them, still bewildered at the events that have happened so far. The doctors hand you a mirror and look into its reflection. The image of a disheveled Mrs. Connors stares back at you. Her shoulder length blonde hair, her soft green eyes but more pronouncedly her pair of massive tits, clearly pushing against the green hospital gown.
“With our newly developed technique there isn’t even a lasting scar on the forehead” One of the doctors whom you now recognize as Dr. Kerry, the doctor who performed the surgery.
His colleague Dr. Saunders turned towards Dr. Kerry and lightly reprimanded him. “Now’s not the time to gloat”
While the two bicker, you look at the mirror again, touching your face and seeing the reflection do the same. The soft smooth touch of your skin completely alien to you having been a pimpled faced kid. This women was mirroring your every action. You are now Jennifer Connors or at least the occupant of her body. The mother of your best friend, a second mother to you and the MILFYIST MILF in the world. Having had a secret crush on her for years, always trying to sneak a glance at her massive tits. Still not really believe what has happened, almost stuck in a trance looking at Mrs. Connor’s reflection, well your reflection now before being snapped back to reality by one of the doctors’ call out for you.
“Randall, Randall, “Dr. Saunders called giving you a little nudge on the shoulder.
“Hm, what yes” You snap out of your state and look a back at them.
“Me and Doctor Kerry, What to talk about couple of changes that needs to occur. You see Randall…” The doctors continued, explaining how the surgery was least than legal to say the least. How only immediate family should know about the existence of this surgery and even then there is a significant risk factor involved. Explaining to you that if the press somehow got a hold of this information, you would be probed and questioned at every step. Not to mention the legal ramifications of this. The doctors having you sign a NDA regarding this. Essentially making you play the role of Jennifer Connors, at least out in the public. You question the doctors on this unsure of whether you have the ability to do so, the doctors responding by saying that the brain should still have the previous memories and instincts as the surgery is a sort of amalgamation of the two brains with your part of the brain playing as the dominant host over the rest.
Having no real other choices left, you sign the NDA and the doctors leave giving you some breathing room. After all this is a lot to take in. Alone now in the hospital room, you are able to collect your thoughts somewhat, unsure of what to feel really. You are glad that you are alive but to be Mrs. Connors that somehow scares you. Yet you feel a sense of excitement, essentially having got the way out from your crazy religious step mother Alice and your father who just follows everything Alice says. God if she told him to jump off a bridge, he’d do it in a heartbeat. Else having to wait till college to move out and get away but now you’re an independent women and a milf, nay the MILF. Having now starting to see the positives in things, after all you would have given up your right testicle to be inside your best friend’s mother and now you really are deep inside her.
Grinning a little bit before moving your hand up towards your breast and giving them a good feel. Feeling the soft pillowy touch of her breast on your hands as well as on chest. But.. you
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