Make Me (Chapter 2) MILF Swap and Mind Control

Eric is stuck in his mom’s body and forced to do her chores for the day. Things only get worse for Eric when his dad comes home and accidentally activates the spell of obedience. How far will Eric be forced to go? Make Me (Chapter 2) is too taboo for Amazon and only available on Smashwords or Body Swap Stories.

As soon as the spell released me I stood from the pool chair and hurried inside. Mom’s tits and ass bounced at each step. There was absolutely no support in this swimsuit.

“Gross, gross, gross, gross, gross,” I mumbled to myself, keeping the fingers that had been inside mom’s pussy well away from my face.

As soon as I was inside I went straight to the bathroom and washed my hand thoroughly, though there wasn’t enough soap in the world to make me forget what I’d just touched. Bent over the sink, I looked up at my reflection. Mom’s face stared back at me from the mirror. Her pert nose, her dark green eyes, her tiny freckles dotting each cheek, her plump lips half-open to show a glimpse of her white teeth, her dark hair spilling over my head. I shut my mouth and watched her reflection do the same. I was still bent over the sink and the force of gravity was pulling my tits down, giving me a look right down my mom’s cleavage. I shook my head and avoided looking in the mirror anymore as I finished washing my hands.

Then it was back to her bedroom where I quickly got dressed back in the tee shirt and pants I’d left on the floor. I didn’t bother with the bra because I didn’t want to touch mom’s tits any more than I had to. I swept my long hair back out of my face—why did she have so much goddamn hair?—and sank onto the bed, one arm over my eyes to block out the world.

I still couldn’t believe this was happening. Why the hell didn’t mom ever use these body swapping powers before? I guess I was thankful she hadn’t. Once was already too much.

I heard the door open and my former voice spoke up from the doorway. “No time to rest sleepy head. You have to finish cleaning the house.”

Another order. I groaned as my body pushed itself up off the bed and I went looking for more things to clean and wipe and wash and put away. Mom, meanwhile, brought armfuls of trash out of my room, filling a few garbage bags with junk. My junk. She rolled her eyes at me as she dumped another load of my stuff into a bag. So I was a little messy. So what? As I passed by one of the bags with my arms full of cleaning products I peered in and saw some of my clothes. My torn black jeans with the zipper pockets and my ‘Fuck Everyone’ tee shirt.

“What are you doing with these?” I asked, hating myself for the whine in my voice

“I’m cleaning up your entire image. You’re such a nice boy but these clothes are so awful.”

“It’s my life, Mom!” I stamped my foot, totally aware of the incongruity of my statement.

“It’s for your own good. Toss these out in the garbage when you get a chance.”

I was forced to toss my own clothes into the outside garbage can before returning to cleaning. In retrospect it was a poor choice to forgo a bra. My tits swung pendulously with each step and I would frequently knock them with an arm, sending one flying in to the other. The spell left me no time to change.

I never realized how involved it was to clean the house until I actually had to do it. My body just seemed to know where the cleaning supplies were and what needed doing. Hell, I found myself coming up with creative ways to get stains out of walls and trying to scrub the shower tiles in a more effective way. Not only was my body forced to work but it seemed like my mind was playing along.

Late in the afternoon I went back into my old room to finish up and nearly sobbed at the sight. Yes, sobbed! The fuck was I so emotional all of a sudden?

Anyway, mom had completely changed my room. My posters of half-naked chicks were gone. My dresser and closet had been tidied. All m cool clothes were gone, leaving only the geek shit mom had bought me. Button downs and khakis. I’d stuffed those way in the back but she’d found them and hung them up. It wasn’t even my room anymore.

“You like it?” She asked.

“No!” I pouted.

“Maybe you will someday.”

At the end of the day I put the last dish away in the drying rack and slumped over the kitchen counter. The need to clean was gone. I must have been done. Or done enough to be released from the spell, anyway. But then mom walked into the kitchen and saw me.

“What are you doing? You’ve got to make dinner.”

I groaned but found myself digging  through the refrigerator for ingredients. Whatever magic she’d used had also given me some of her skills because I didn’t know the first thing about cooking—mom took care of all that crap—but somehow I knew what to do. I flitted around the kitchen chopping and measuring and stirring like the good little housewife mom was forcing me to be. The result wasn’t amazing but by the time dad came home the scent of the roasting chicken filled the house.

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Read the rest on Smashwords or Body Swap Stories.