Jon sighed. Just his luck, that the first day Linda wasn't breathing down his neck, he found out someone had replaced him. And worse, it was someone who knew him. A girl, by the sound of it, and there were precious few girls he was on a first-name basis with. But if my punishment ends, for good behavior or something, and someone else is still taking my place, what happens to me?
The thought terrified him, and he felt his breasts heave up and down with every panicked breath, something he expected but hoped he'd never be used to. Since he'd become his mother, every article of clothing was clearly always there; he never stopped feeling his bra, tight against his ample chest, panties straining against his wide hips, and dress simply hanging, probably the worst feeling. He had to keep making sure the bottom half of it hadn't gotten torn off or something, as ridiculous as the thought was. The blouse and knee-length skirt he was wearing now were no better.
He heard the front door slam shut, and hurried to the living room despite himself to greet his new... husband home. Doing as he'd practiced with Linda, he pulled Mark into a hug, said "Welcome home, babe," and pecked him on the cheek, hating himself for it all the while. He kept a cheerful smile on his face as Mark kissed him on the cheek, thanking him. Don't give him a reason to think you're not me, Linda had said, over and over. He knows, but make him doubt.
"I missed you," Mark said tentatively, kissing him on the lips with some hesitation. Pushing down the disgust, he returned the kiss in earnest, and Mark seemed to ease into it. He was almost getting comfortable when Zoe spoke up behind them.
"Get a room, you two!" she snarked, and Jon pulled away, blushing bright red, before the training kicked in.
"Is that any way to greet your father?" he snapped in exactly the way Linda would, feeling some sick satisfaction when Zoe stepped back, blinking.
"Whoa, sorry. Welcome home, Dad," she said, turning and walking into the kitchen.
"Wow, that sounded just like my Linda," Mark said in a hushed tone.
Jon turned to him and smiled, trying not to think about what he was about to say. "Well, I am Linda, love. Your wife. Want me to prove it to you?" All the while, he thought Say no, say no, I don't wanna prove it, I don't want you to see me at all...
"You know what I mean," he replied, embarrassed. "Don't play head games with me, this is weird enough already."
"Just drop it then, okay?" Jon suggested pleasantly. "Pretend nothing's happened, at least for Mikey's sake. Zoe knows the score."
Mark nodded. "Okay. I'm sorry in advance, if I say something wrong, or I'm too pushy, or... you know... whatever, just let me know."
"Okay," he said in a placating manner, and Linda's voice told him in his head that he'd dropped character for too long, so he continued, "I will. I love you."
Mark smiled at that. "Love you too, beautiful."
Jon blushed, smiling widely despite himself. "What would you like for breakfast?"
