A futuristic remote control accidentally body swaps eighteen-year-old Nolan with his awful – and awfully sexy – stepmother in Flip Side 1, available on Body Swap Stories or Smashwords.
Nolan is eighteen years old and his stepmother, Tiffany, has been awful to him ever since the day she married his father. When Nolan’s father passed away and left everything to her, she got even worse. She doesn’t care about his failing grades, she refuses to help him with the bully at school, and she’s decided to kick him out of the house. But her own ambitions come back to bite her.
Desperate to show off to her company so that she can get the CEO position, Tiffany steals a prototype remote control from her lab and brings it home. When she and Nolan get in an argument, the remote accidentally discharges and swaps them into each other’s bodies. Now Nolan is body swapped in his evil – but sexy – stepmom’s body, and she’s body swapped into his eighteen-year-old – and awkward – teen one. In order to swap back, Nolan will need to pretend to be her so that he can steal the instructions from her lab.
But for Nolan, it’s not all bad being his own stepmom. She’s incredibly hot. And her body is incredibly sensual. While she suffers as him, he enjoys being her and exploring every inch of his delightful new body.
Nolan
I filled my backpack with soapy water and scrubbed it in the kitchen sink. My school books sat on the counter next to me, the edges of the pages still streaked with grease and whatever tomato sauce I couldn’t wipe off. At least, I hoped it was tomato sauce.
That afternoon as I’d been leaving school, Derick and his friends cornered me. While one of them distracted me, Derick snuck around behind me and grabbed my backpack, unzipping it and dumping the remains of his lunch inside. Then Derick and his pals ran away howling with laughter. As if it wasn’t already humiliating enough to have to take the school bus home as an eighteen-year-old, my backpack smelled like old spaghetti while the sauce slowly soaked into the pages of my books.
It hadn’t been the first time Derick had singled me out for bullying. Not even the first time this week. There was the trombone incident. The lunch tray “accident”. The homework theft. Not to mention the snide remarks and general intimidation.
I didn’t dare tell the teachers about it all. I’d made that mistake once already. There was a prolonged “investigation” that no one could tell me anything about, and then it just…ended. No punishment for Derick. No closure for me. It just made Derick bully me more secretively, away from the security cameras and the prying eyes of other students.
I dumped the soapy water out of my backpack and shook it before leaving it on the marble kitchen countertop to dry. There was the sound of a key in the front door, the click of a latch, and then the click clack of high heels coming around the corner. I sighed inwardly. Tiffany was home early. Another thing I didn’t want to deal with.
My stepmom came around the corner and I could tell she was in a foul mood. What else was new? She dropped her purse onto the counter nearest the door and stopped suddenly, her blue eyes flicking from the soaking wet backpack to the greasy textbooks to my morose appearance. She furrowed her brow.
“Eww, get this off my clean counters,” Tiffany said, poking at one of my dirty textbooks.
Her pretty face was set in a scowl and she used the back of one finger to swipe at the lock of blonde hair that had escaped her bun. She wore a silver blouse and a matching pencil skirt that emphasized her petite figure. A tiny black and silver belt wound around her slim waist. The silver heels gave her an extra two inches of height but still left her at least half a head shorter than me.
“I’m cleaning it, I’ll take care of it,” I replied sullenly, a hint of whine in my voice that I couldn’t quite control.
“Ugh. Whatever, I can’t deal with this right now. Just make sure you leave the counters clean.”
“Why? So you can use them to not cook on?” I shot back.
My stepmom was a famously terrible cook. Why on earth she needed such a huge kitchen with all the fanciest appliances boggled the mind. Like everything with Tiffany, it was all about appearances. Hell, appearances were her whole job. She was vice president of marketing at an “innovention” company—whatever the hell that meant—so it was all about how things could be made appealing to the general public to buy. It extended to her personal life, where she was sweet as could be to me when my dad was around but the mask came off in the privacy of our home. Correction. Her home. My dad had left it to her in his will. A fact she never failed to remind me of.
I didn’t understand what my dad had seen in Tiffany. Maybe he’d been blinded by her beauty? Because (I had to grudgingly admit) she was gorgeous. A petite, blonde firecracker.
“Excuse me?!” Tiffany said, her icy blue eyes cold with fury.
“Nothing,” I mumbled, grabbing my textbooks and tossing them into my still-soggy backpack to take upstairs. “Derick was fucking with me again today but I don’t expect you give a shit.”
As I brushed past her she remarked: “Maybe if you weren’t such a sissy he wouldn’t mess with you.”
My cheeks flushed red with anger and embarrassment. The choice of words was intentional. When I was younger I used to sneak into my stepmom’s closet and try on her clothes. I would stand in front of her full length closet mirror in heels that were too big and a dress that didn’t billow out or hug the right places but I would imagine that it did.
The first time Tiffany caught me I claimed it was just curiosity and she seemed to let it go. The second time she caught me I had no such excuse. She kept an eye on me after that. Even when I pulled the laundry out of the dryer she was there with a snide remark like “Make sure you grab the right panties, sissy boy.” She needn’t have worried because I soon grew too big to fit into her clothes. My feet grew too long, belly too tubby, arms too thick. I was a beefy guy with a thick body and a wide face with a mop of unruly brown hair. There was nothing pretty about me.
I stopped crossdressing but I never stopped imagining what it would be like to be a woman. Even just for a day. To be pretty. Dainty. Wanted.
I turned to my stepmom, my soggy backpack slung over one shoulder. “Who hurt you to make you so mean?”
She snorted and grabbed a wine glass. “I never wanted kids,” she said, as she opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of white to pour into her glass. “You were part of the package. A little, snotty kid. Maybe if you’d been a real man instead of a pussy I wouldn’t have minded so much. But I was willing to overlook you because I loved your dad so much.”
“Loved him or his money?” I said.
She sipped her wine and glared at me coldly. “Two weeks,” she said.
“Two weeks what?”
“Consider this your eviction notice. You’re eighteen. An adult. So I don’t have to deal with this shit in my own home anymore. I want you out in two weeks.”
“What?”
“And you should be grateful I’m even giving you notice. Where’s my ‘thank you’?”
God, I wanted to smack that smug smile off her face. But I couldn’t do it. Violence wasn’t in my nature. My stepmom had a mean streak I couldn’t hope to match.
“Here’s your ‘thank you’,” I said, flipping her off.
“You just lost a week, sissy. One week and then you’re out of here. Maybe Derick will let you stay with him. He can build you a doghouse because you’re already his bitch.” I felt tears burning my eyes and stomped upstairs to my room. I slammed the door and dropped the backpack on the floor, wiping my face angrily. What the fuck was I going to do?
Read the rest on Body Swap Stories or Smashwords.
Yeah I wanna know before i buy what kinda incest is involved
What makes this story incestuous if it is a step mom?
Smashwords and Amazon both count any kind of step-parent as incest. In this one, the real father is out of the picture so the only ‘incest’ is the son being in the unrelated stepmom’s body.