The best way to teach Jimmy a lesson is to spook him. And what better way than to get into the mind of his mother?
You know that Mrs. Wilson is very hands-off with her children – or that’s what you’ve always thought. Your parents have always set an informal curfew – be home by dinner or call if you can’t be there, and don’t abuse it – and have been reasonably strict. Jimmy, meanwhile, has always been spoiled by having the latest games for just about every console, and his allowance is enough to let him buy anything he needs for his pranks (or, as he tells his mom, “scientific” experiments – even if the science is basically creating chemical farts.)
But you also know Jimmy speaks of his mom in whispers when he’s in big trouble. You’ve heard the horror stories – how she erased a game he spent days playing and then threatened to throw away the game if he didn’t behave, causing him to forswear pranks for an entire week. (Could have been an entire month, but he tested the waters earlier.) If you could figure out how his mother deals with him, you could make him desist from his stupid idea.
You grab Heather’s skin, trying to fool him. “Gonna go change in her room.”
“Why not here?”
“You wanna see my wiener? Don’t tell me putting on my sister made you gay...”
“Eww!” The brief moment he takes to close his eyes gives you a chance to snatch the black pen on the bed, hiding it under Heather’s skin. “Dude!”
“Thought so.” You stand up, grabbing the other pen. “So, you’re gonna let me--?”
“Yeah, yeah! Go ahead! Dude, I’m gonna need brain bleach to take that image off my mind!”
Better keep half the gallon, you tell yourself. I don’t like you making Tina act like that...
As you move in, you intentionally rub your foot on Mrs. Wilson’s skin, feigning bother. “Dude, keep your mom in a safe place! I almost tripped on her!”
“Yeah, yeah... Just put her on her bed and make it quick. I got a cool prank I wanna pull on Heather.”
You roll your eyes as you grab Mrs. Wilson’s skin. Compared to Heather’s hard face, Mrs. Wilson – even as deflated as she is – has a very pleasant expression that reminds you of your own mother. (She’s also got an impish grin that Jimmy fully inherited, but you’ve only seen that once or twice.) She’s also hefty, but just like Heather, most of it is in the right places – somewhat busty, but with a pair of large, peachy hips. It’s obvious where Heather inherited her shape, though she’s slimmer and her breasts are bigger.
You close and lock the door, ready to make the switch. You put Heather on her bed, near her clothes, and whisper to her. “Sorry about what your brother did. I’ll try to convince him not to.” Then, you rip off the skin on Mrs. Wilson’s back, noticing the rosy flesh in her innards. “And sorry about this, missus Wilson.”
You begin by undressing, then slipping one of your slim legs into hers. At first, it’s a hassle as your few leg hairs get caught in the slimy innards of her leg, but as you adjust it, you slowly stop feeling like you’re wearing something. After stretching your leg fully into hers, and as you step on the rug, you leap in shock. You don’t feel the slimy squishiness of before, but the fabric of the rug itself.
And it’s not just your feet. It’s all the way up to the knee, where the leg’s spread out. You peel it off and the sensation disappears, but it’s a struggle as it almost refuses to budge.
You pull up the other leg, sitting on Heather’s bed to adjust it, then lift up her lower body up to your waist. It’s still amazing how the sensation fades from a soft, rubbery and slimy feel to that of your own flesh, but you didn’t expect the feel of having your own groin sucked inward, leaving a hole driving deep within.
No wonder Jimmy’s so excited by this, you think to yourself. Is this what having a vagina feels like?
You lift her broad, yet flat, belly into your own, then slide your arms into hers. The shifting sensation doesn’t stop, though the breast area is too eager to clinch, and you need to fight to adjust it with her distorted hands and arms. It takes you a while to straighten everything, particularly as the tear in her back reopens and closes with every move.
Finally, all that’s left is her head. You pull off the scrunchie holding Mrs. Wilson’s hair in a ponytail, spreading it wider. You take a deep breath and close your eyes before diving in, rubbing your fingers on your face to adjust hers.
As you open your eyes, your perspective changes completely. You already felt the heft of her body, but as you feel the strands of her curly hair falling on your shoulders, your brain started processing it. Two fat bulges sprout from your chest, distorted by gravity, and as you move in shock, you feel your hips squeezed by one of the sides of Heather’s bed. You sit and you feel like floating on air, you swing around, feeling the fat in her ass moving from one side to another like two massive pillows.
You stand up and see Mrs. Wilson staring in awe. You touch your face, and she follows suit. “Unbelievable,” you hear her say, for while you’re the one saying it, it’s her voice that’s responding. From head to toe, there’s no sign that you’re not Jimmy’s mother.
...Well, maybe your expressions. There’s nothing of her peppy attitude in your look – just a scared boy seeing how he’s wearing his best friend’s mother like a costume.
You check the other pen that was in the box. It’s identical in design to the black one, except it’s brown in color. If what Jimmy says is right, this should give you everything you need to impersonate his mother. It should also reveal all her secrets, meaning you’ll be able to figure how she keeps him in control.
You point the brown pen at yourself, closing your eyes. As you click it, you feel a jolt running from your chin all the way to your spine, down and up, and into your skull. You feel lethargic – like when Jimmy used the pen on you – and you faint, your world once fading to black.
--
What are you doing!? You wake up with a gasp. You only see a blur, you feel naked, but you’d know where you are from scent alone. What am I doing at my daughter’s bedroom?
You rub your forehead as you try to recall what happened. I know I was preparing for dinner. I know I heard the door ring, and as I open it, I see David’s sister Tina visiting.
You know that’s weird, because David’s family rarely visits you. Unlike David and Jimmy, Christina and Heather weren’t very close; being a year younger, their relationship wasn’t as close as the boys, even if they went to the same school. That gave Marie and Paul a reason to visit you, and by extension that’s how you know Nicholas and Claire.
I remember greeting and saying David was already out, if she was here to talk to Heather, and she said she wasn’t here for either of them, and... That’s all I can remember.
You feel a strange sense of deja vu as you think what happened next. You faint, your vision blurry, waking up in a bedroom not yours. You scratch your eyes, wondering if you’ll find someone looking at you.
You don’t, but you find a much more disgusting surprise. Heather is beside you, also naked, but motionless. As you check on her, you see she’s deflated, like an inflatable doll, her eyes not merely sunken but completely gone – only her sockets were there.
What’s going on!? Tina couldn’t do this! Why would she do this to Heather!? Why would--?
And as you make these questions, you realize they’re not your own, for you know the answers. It’s Jimmy. He’s the one that appeared as Tina, fooled missus Wilson--
Julia, you hear, realizing she’s correcting you.
--and then zapped her and Heather with your pens. Of course, Julia doesn’t know about the pens, and you’re just suspecting Jimmy must’ve zapped her after zapping his mom because he met you first.
You wonder whether Mrs. Wilson – Julia – is angry at him. And the answer comes quite fast. What the hell is Jimmy thinking!? I swear, he’s got a lot of Dennis inside that thick skull of his...!
She must be pissed enough to mention Jimmy’s dad, since she never mentioned him to you in his entire life. It was always “Jimmy’s dad is far away” and “if he wants to come, he’ll come”. She’s scared that Jimmy becomes like his dad – that must fuel her punishments.
And as you think of a way to punish him, you have a fantastic idea that works just as well as a prank as a scare.
You look at yourself in the mirror. Julia Wilson’s best years are behind, but she was a few pounds short of being a MILF – one with a gentle face that could easily twist into a malicious grin, just as the one you’re giving yourself.
You open the door, checking if Jimmy’s watching. You hear moans, and you figure he must be doing something more than lewd. As disgusted as you are, you focus on your plan. You take her clothes – her big full-support bra, her large brief-style panties, her button blouse and jeans – and dress up as fast as you can, tying up your auburn curls into a ponytail. You slip on your crocs and take a deep breath, thinking on how to embrace her, rather than just act.
You take the black pen, focusing on it. I’m Julia Wilson, you tell yourself. And I’ve got to punish a very naughty kid.
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