Jon rejoined the conscious a few minutes later. Coming to, on the couch with his mother and sister staring at him, bug-eyed. The pieces started coming together again, corner pieces, remembering details in small batches. He also noticed something he didn't remember. Wearing a robe. His mom's robe. And there’s something flopped against my armpits? An urge to investigate has him noticing his nails again, how the edges weren’t bitten to jagged edges and how well kept the cuticles were. Even his digits were smaller… plumper?
“Oh fuck.”
It hit like a truck, a truck of 'oh fucks', Jon reaching out and grabbing his mom’s hands to confirm this new terrible notion.
“Jon, honey,” Linda soothed, then retreated. There was nothing to really say, he needed to see for himself.
Jon held her fingers out, measuring his hands against hers. Same length nail, just un-painted, same size hand, and even the matching freckles on their right knuckles. Those weren’t his hands, those were his mother’s hands. Which meant those things pulling at his chest, those breasts, were in fact his mom’s breasts! He was gagging.
Hands shaking, tentatively raised, he poked both from the sides, hoping this scientific probing would yield different results. It did not. Instead, he was treated to the dual firsts of poking his first boob and getting his boob poked for the first time.
“Oh fuckity-fuck-FUCK!” Jon struggled to find a stronger or more appropriate word, instead relying on the classics. “Fuck!”
“How come he gets to curse-,”
“Zoe, room, NOW. And make sure Mikey does not set one foot down here or you’re both grounded til Christmas,” Linda snarled. “Kapeesh?”
“But I didn’t even do-”
“ZOE!”
Which was more than enough to get her to tuck her tail between her legs and make herself scarce.
Jon’s mind raced as he tried to understand how wound up in this situation. He had the stone in his pocket, he swore that it was right there on his hip in his pant pocket and-
Actually, where are my pants? Jon questioned while running a foot down the length of his other, shaven, bare leg, recoiling at the smooth sensation. And as a matter of fact where’s my- Jon’s eyes bulged, as Jon's attention shifted to the whereabouts of a more important possession. He sat up, his nervous hands fumbling to untie and open the robe, unable to see past his now present bust line.
“It’s there,” Linda interjected, saving Jon the embarrassment of almost flashing his mom.
“Oh thank god,” Jon gasped in relief. “You saw it for sure?” Anxiety got the better of him, forcing a question he didn’t want answered out. He could feel it too, he knew it was there… just… lower? And final confirmation came when Linda looked away, giving him a moment to 'adjust' himself. Leaving no doubt that he was a man where it counted, albeit a cramped man, jostling for space between two heavy thighs.
“Yes Jon!” Linda sheeshed. “Zoe almost saw it too, which is why I covered you up in my robe. You really did a number on those sweats,” which was technically true. Although it could be argued that it was Linda’s wish and Linda’s hips that had a more direct cause in Jon’s pants getting stretched to and past their limit.
Feeling all his wits slowly return to him and not just the ones that worried about his dick (although they could be a persuasive bunch), Jon breathed. He began recalling his focus to where it really mattered, the root cause of his current motherly misery and the only solution to it- the stone.
In a delicate grip, clenched just enough to conceal a small object, but just open enough to see a shimmer, Jon saw his grandfather’s wishing stone and his one chance to undo this whole nightmare. His opportunity to get his body back and keep his mother from ever knowing about the power in her hands was one balled fist away.
He would not be proud of what happened next.
More primal than logical, Jon stood and lunged for his mother’s wrists and hopefully the stone. There were a lot of variables he failed to calculate. The ground came up on him quicker than he realized. His first step in the new body was an awkward and bouncy one, and he was not expecting to seeing eye to eye with his mom in this encounter.
Every motion and struggle to wrestle the stone away was accompanied by a wave of jiggles. Jiggles from his legs, jiggles from the front, and a definite helping from the back, fought against Jon as he fought with Linda over control of the stone.
Linda was more flabbergasted than anything, not fully understanding what Jon's goal was. It took more effort than expected, Jon only coming away with the stone after Linda relented, not from being overpowered but from seeing the panic in her sons eyes.
Jon’s relief was palpable as he broke away. He clenched the stone as tightly as two dainty fingers and a thumb can muster, vowing to never let it out of his sight again. Things had gone horribly, but it was solvable. All it would take was one wish to undo these changes and have the stone all to himself again, with no need to explain anything to his mom.
Wasting no time, that’s what he did. Constructing a wish in his mind that would make his mom forget the whole thing, wording it perfectly so he’d have the time to fix his body.
But those weren’t the words that came from Jon’s lips.
“I wish mom couldn’t use the stone, pills, or fad diets to get to her target weight. She has to do it naturally and honestly.”
That was weird, Jon shook his head, jostling with the disconnect of the voice in your head saying one thing but the one in your throat saying another. He wasn’t even sure it had happened. Maybe another wish-
Even thinking about the word wish gave the stone permission to add another, using his voice.
“I wish that my figure and physique would match mom’s until she meets her health and fitness goals.”
He had heard it in full that time. Jon yelped and threw his hands over his mouth, hoping to contain the words before they reached the stone and made into reality. It was no use. He could feel the stone buzzing in his hand, crushing his dream of an easy fix. He felt the metaphorical padlock clasp shut.
“Jon,” Linda using as gentle a tone as possible, trying not to spook the frightened animal in front of her. “Breathe.” She rubbed his back and helped him take a seat, still amazed at seeing her sons head atop such a womanly figure.
“I think it's time you come clean about that stone, Jon.”
