When a Magic Amulet Swapped Mother and Son
Grace, or rather, the body of her eighteen-year-old son inhabited by the panicked mind of a forty-year-old mother, stormed into the room. She was sweaty, her son's hair was a complete mess, and she was clutching the cursed golden amulet that had caused the whole disaster the night before. Her eyes were wide with pure desperation.
“What on earth is going on here?!” Grace exclaimed in her son's deep voice, stopping abruptly in the middle of the room.
She looked toward the bed and nearly dropped the amulet.
Sitting there, awkwardly adjusting to a body with curves he still hadn't learned how to move in naturally, was her own body. But the mind inside it belonged to her son, who was wearing a sheepish, guilty smile.
“I've been desperately searching the internet for a way to reverse this blasted amulet that swapped our bodies, and I find you here like this?!” Grace snapped, waving her son's long arms in frustration. “Didn't I tell you to put on something presentable? Your father was already on his way home for lunch!”
The young man, now inhabiting his mother's curvy body, adjusted one of the straps of the black faux-leather corset with pink lace and shrugged. He glanced at his reflection in the wardrobe mirror with a strange mixture of shock and curiosity.
“Well, Mom, if I'm going to be stuck in your body until you figure out how to fix this magic, I have to learn what there is to wear, right?” he replied.
The mature, gentle voice of Grace came from his lips, but the tone was completely carefree.
“I've only picked something for the bottom half for now. I was actually looking for a blouse or a jacket to put over it. But seriously, Mom... I had no idea you kept clothes like this! Where did that corset even come from? Has Dad ever seen you wearing it?”
Grace felt the cheeks of her son's face burning with embarrassment.
She folded her masculine arms and let out an exasperated sigh. Seeing her own more daring clothes being used as her son's first wardrobe experiment was already bad enough.
Then things got even worse.
The sound of her husband's car engine echoed through the garage.
Their time was up.
Her husband was home.
And the last thing their marriage needed was for him to see his “wife” walking through the hallway in a lace outfit while his “son” desperately tried to behave like a frantic mother trying to keep everything under control.
Fate had a peculiar sense of humor.
Grace had spent years trying to dictate her son's clothes, manners, and behavior.
Now the tables had turned in the most chaotic way imaginable.
Comments
Post a Comment
Please leave a comment! I'll apreciate!