(Originally written by: sandyseeker)
“Shit!” you say as you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Y-Y-You're mom!
It feels utterly bizzarre to hear your mom's voice swear. You're back at home now, in your mother's room standing in front of her dresser mirror. Apparently you were putting on earrings, because your hands (now adorned with muted, dark red nail polish) are up at your left earlobe grasping a small, gold hoop. Shoulder-length, dark red hair frames your fair-skinned face. You shudder involuntarily at seeing your own expression briefly flash across mom's face.
You take a deep breath to calm down. Wow, that's weird seeing your breasts heave as you breathe! You're now wearing your mom's favorite blue sweater. You can scarcely see past these big boobs, but it looks like you've got a pair of black slacks on. You lift a foot and see it's clad in pantyhose and a black pump.
“This can't be happening,” you say in a soft voice. “I'm not really mom!”
Your dad's voice booms from in the next room: “Is everything all right Trish?”
"Yes da- ... erm ... Dan," you say with a stumble.
Glancing back at the dresser, you sigh with relief. The magic stone is now laying on top of the dresser, as though it had just slipped out of your mom's -- you mean, your hands. Maybe you could use it to change?
