--- Feel free to not use, I just had some thoughts, and figured I'd add. ---
But looking at all the wishes he's made so far wasn't helping. Knowing he'd regret it all wasn't helping. The idea of regretting it all was precisely what was turning him on in all this. Only some kind of miraculous cold shower could stop this madness, and deep down he knew it. He felt like an addict on a bender - knowing it's bad for him but not able to stop. It scared him, and it excited him.
He looked at the magic rock in his hand and grasped it tight.
"I'm sorry, Sue." He whispered.
He ran his hands over his curvy body and curled his toes in excitement. He might look like Sue, and have her memories, but aside from a few quirks and annoyances he was still very much Jon Madison, and that wouldn't do. He took a deep shaky breath as his teased down below. He groaned at the mere anticipation, but stopped long enough to stammer the next wish that came to mind.
"I wish, " He paused, unsure of where to start, then sputtered. "that I could only refer to myself by Sue's names, or nicknames, even in my thoughts." Just like that his name was gone. Well, not yet, but it would be gone sometime within the next 24 hours. erased forever even by his own mind.
It was a subtle thing. Sure, he already wished that he would never reveal himself to others, but to bind even his own mind to the perverse fantasy rushing through his veins? Even if he found a way into another body he'd always be Sue. "Ahhh, fuck." He moaned suddenly and loudly, as his body trembled with delight. He pressed his soft thighs together, even as his fingers began to massage himself again. His body was hot, literally. His thighs were radiating his steamy arousal. He could imagine his pale flesh flushed red.
But a name alone doesn't make a milf... His mind continued ravenously to search for the next chain to bind his inevitable new life. "I wish that even though Sue doesn't want to be pregnant or give birth again, she gets intense baby fever."
Jon gulped reflecting for the briefest of moments that this would almost inevitably ensure his pregnancy in the future. His mind was reeling, but... "In for a penny" He muttered. "I wish that the next time she starts lactating, it won't stop, and that my letdown reflex is very sensitive."
He paused and considered the term "Letdown" He hadn't even known what it meant a few hours ago, but now he remembers it clearly as part of his pre-natal classes with Amber. He knew of how prolactin and oxytocin would surge into his bloodstream to help make the milk and cause his breasts to push it out. He recalled the familiar bright tingle in his chest, and a feeling of fullness. He knew how some mothers required manual stimulation, but others would "express" milk if they heard a baby cry, or even if they became too relaxed. His bodies hair-trigger reflexes wouldn't care if the hungry cry was for him, or if it was even in real life. A crying baby on the TV could lead to an embarrassing accident, and of course daycares, camps, and parks would be a minefield for milky mishaps. After enough accidents it was only a matter of time before Pavlov associated the reflex with something completely absurd in his mind. HIs cheeks flushed at a sudden realization. Aa tweak or tease from David might be all it took for him to soak his bra.
He just doomed himself to a lifetime of wet milky tits, but more than that, he had started to use his new memories to more effectively bind his new life. Not a good sign. His heart raced faster. He was definitely circling the drain now... He immediately tried to think of more.
Any frustration any inconvenience became a target of potential interest.
