Spell Gone Wrong

Sweat running down her neck, with no light but the little thrown by the contained flame in the petite metal cauldron and four candles that rested on the table, Isabella tossed the tuft of her boyfriend's hair into the cauldron. The spell card rested behind it.

"Take this offering. Give me sight, give me vision. Let me see him at his most private. Truth, preferable to ignorance. Let me see it all."

The flame shot up and turned purple.

Isabella fainted and collapsed.

The flame continued to burn.

Isabella rolled over in bed, waking from sleep. Before opening her eyes, she noticed acute pain in her lower back and shoulders. Something felt different about her chest, too—a different distribution of weight. She opened her eyes and immediately realized she was in a different room than her own. I don't have an alarm clock. The bedding was unfamiliar. I've never been in this room before. Where am I?

Her hands, they were completely different too, more wrinkles. She looked down at her chest. Whoa, gravity's really doing its job, what happened? Isabella glanced down. A fading scar ran up her abdomen. How'd I get that? She spread her legs. Curly black hair covered her mons pubis. I swear I shaved like two days ago, what the heck?

Isabella nearly fell down when she got out of bed, her feet and legs completely foreign. A mirror hung on the closet door. She caught a glance of herself and gasped, throwing her hands up over her face.

Holy shit, did it really work? But this is not what I wanted, not at all. Oh no. She started to pace the room in a panic. Okay, okay, it's Sunday. At least I won't get Oliver's mom fired from her job. Also, wow, I knew she was beautiful, but she's downright sexy in her birthday suit.

Isabella took a deep breath and began to calm down. This can work, this can totally work. Maybe this is even better than his best friend. She opened the closet door and riffled through Oliver's mother's wardrobe. After trying on a few different outfits—a mini-fashion show for one, she settled on something simple yet effective, a sundress cut low in the back and front, no bra, no panties.

With each step, Isabella got more comfortable in her new body. Let's see, let's see, what next? She opened the top bedside drawer to see what was inside. Three different vibrators lovingly snuggled each other. No, not now. Stay focused.

Oliver lived in a single-story ranch in a quaint neighborhood outside of Hartford with his mother, a professor at the university. Not long out of college and searching for a job, he moved back in with his mom. He told Isabella it was to save money, but she knew that his mother was having a tough time since the divorce. She could have any guy she wanted, I don't get why she doesn't just go out and take her pick of the litter. Older guys, younger guys, seriously, they'd lose their shit.

Oliver's bedroom was on the other side of the house. Aside from his mother's bedroom, Isabella knew the layout of the home well. In the kitchen, she got out all of the ingredients for pancakes. She whipped the batter and started heating up the griddle. Oliver's mom's Sunday morning pancakes were a weekly staple—their version of church. No other sounds stirred in the house except the slight sizzle of the cooking pancakes.

Isabella knocked on Oliver's door, holding a plate of pancakes. "Oliver... Hunny... You up? I made pancakes." She twisted the door open. Oliver was caught in the act, stroking his cock while he stared at his phone. He jumped up, dropped his phone, and covered himself with his blanket.

"Mom!" His face turned dark crimson. "W-w-what are you doing?!"

"I made you breakfast, sweetie. But it looks like you're busy, so I'll just set them here for you when you're ready."

Oliver was speechless. He looked anywhere else but in the direction of his mother. Isabella winked at Oliver and left his room, closing the door behind her.

That filthy scum. I knew it, I knew it. First thing in the morning too! I told him to be honest, and he lied. Fuming, she sat on the chair in the living room and riffled through one of Oliver's mother's magazines.

Oliver came out of his bedroom not long after, dressed and carrying the plate of pancakes, completely pale. He sat down at the kitchen table and ate his pancakes in silence. Isabella got up and poured him a glass of orange juice. She sat across from him at the table.

Oliver looked up and saw how revealing the dress was, his mom's freckled upper breasts leading his eyes down the line between them. He immediately looked away.

"How's breakfast, sweetie?"

"Delicious," he said. He took a sip of orange juice. Birds chirped in the yard. The sun shone through the windows, a perfect summer day. "But they taste a bit different than usual. Did you change the recipe?"

"I'm trying something new," Isabella said.

He ate his pancakes and avoided looking anywhere remotely near his mother.

"How's everything with Isabella?"

"Oh, really great. We're going out to dinner on Tuesday night. I'm looking forward to it."

Well, he passed that test. "She's such a nice girl, I'm glad you found someone you get along with so well."

Mid-bite, he grunted in agreement. "About what you were doing in your bedroom." He stopped chewing and almost spit out the pancake. His stomach sank. "You're a man, and that's natural. But do you think Isabella wants you watching videos of other naked women? That doesn't seem very gentlemanly of you."

"M-mom..." He lost his appetite. "I don't think there's anything wrong with it, it's harmless.

"Does she not do enough for you?"

"No, no, it's not that. Not that at all."

"Then what is it?"

"I really do not want to be having this conversation with you, Mom."

"Why not? I told you about the birds and the bees. I taught you about safe sex. Lord knows school didn't." Please let this be accurate.

"Look, okay," Oliver was starting to get mad. "I like the fantasies. Is that so wrong?"

"What kind of fantasies?"

"No. Absolutely not. We're not talking about that."

"Oh, I'm just kidding, darling." I'll give you a fantasy so good you won't need to look at that filth again. Isabella stood up from the table and walked over to Oliver. She draped her arms around his shoulders from behind. "I'm just teasing you, relax." She began to rub his back.

"You're acting real strange today. Is everything okay?"

"Everything's just great."

Isabella reached around and slid her hand into Oliver's pants. He's already hard. No surprise there with his goddamn fantasies.

"W-w-what are you doing?!" Oliver recoiled.

"You said you like fantasies... What if they were reality?" She kissed him on the neck.

"This is just wrong, Mom. Wrong in all ways. Gross."

"If it's wrong, then why's your cock so hard, Oliver James?" She reached back down in his pants and squeezed his penis. "See, your little buddy has no problem with it."

"That's beside the point. I don't even think this is l-l-legal." Isabella pumped his cock.

"I won't tell the police if you don't," she said, laughing.

Come on, come on, I know you love this. What son doesn't have an Oedipus complex?

Oliver couldn't speak, his throat was dry.

Isabella tightened her grip and stroked faster. "Mom... Mom! You gotta stop, or I'm going to come."

"I want you to come, come all over my face, you dirty boy."

Isabella pulled his chair back, got on the floor, unbuttoned his pants, and pulled his cock out from his boxers. "Wow. Like father, like son," she said, even though she had no idea if it was true.

Oliver held onto the bottom of the chair while Isabella kept jerking him off.

"Are you sure you want me to come? It'll make a big mess."

"That's what I want. Dirty boys make big messes for their mothers to clean up." With the stroke that followed, semen flew out of Oliver's cock onto his mother's face. The pancakes were cold; the jizz was warm. The birds kept chirping.

He likes his pornstars, does he? He's going to love this. His semen ran down her face. She ran her tongue around her lips, catching some of it. Isabella kissed Oliver, shoving her come-covered tongue into his mouth.

"That was so sexy," she said. Oh god, am I going to ruin his relationship with his mother? I may have taken this all too far, but it was such fun.

Oliver didn't say anything. He pulled up his pants. Isabella wiped off her face with the kitchen towel.

"So... what do you want to do today? Want to spend the day with me? What if we went to the movies?"

Oliver could barely think. "Sure..."

"You pick the movie, hunny."

They shared popcorn at the matinée. Oliver was grateful he didn't have to talk to his mom during the movie. Did he know there was going to be so much sex in this movie? He's a certifiable pervert!

They had a late lunch after the movie. Isabella tried to make small talk during the meal, but Oliver was glued to his phone. She ran her foot along his leg under the table.

"What's Isabella up to today?"

"She's not texting me back, I'm not sure what's up. I haven't heard from her since last night."

"Strange... Maybe she's not feeling well?"

"I wonder if I should go check on her."

"And what, leave your poor mother home alone all evening?"

"We've spent the entire day together, Mom."

"Come on, just a full day with your sweet mother. Didn't you say you're going on a date with Isabella this week anyway?"

Oliver looked at his mother. She was wearing the same revealing dress as earlier. Isabella noticed he was getting more and more comfortable looking at her. This could end horribly.

They went home.

"I'm going to play games with friends for a bit," Oliver said. "We can TV later?"

"Sure, hun. Have fun with your video games."

Oliver went into his room and closed the door. Video games. Video games. That's coded language if there ever was any. She sat on the couch while she thought through what to do.

Thirty minutes later, she quietly opened the door to Oliver's room. Why in God's name does he not lock the door? He was sitting in a chair at his desk with large over-ear headphones on. His pants were on the ground. A muscular man with an unusually large penis was having intercourse with an older blonde woman while a younger blonde woman covered in tattoos sat on his face. I knew it! Video games my ass. He's addicted. It's sickening. I need to put a stop to this once and for all.

"Oliver! What are you doing?"

"Mom!" He jumped out of his chair, his headphones flying off. He nearly tripped and fell forward, bound by his pants around his ankles. His cock pointed right at his mother.

"I thought I told you earlier—that stuff you're watching is no good. You need to cut it out. Clearly, this morning wasn't enough for you, you horny, dirty, perverted boy."

"I can't help it, Mom. I'm just so horny. I don't know what to do about it." Tears welled in his eyes. Wow, he's really upset. "Well, let's see what we can do about it." She stepped closer toward him. "Here's an idea—I'll fulfill more of your fantasies so you can stop watching that junk once and for all."

Isabella walked up to Oliver and began to rub his cock again. She kissed its head. She pursed her lips together and let spit drip onto his member, then she began stroking it faster. Oliver groaned. She put her lips around it. Oliver, still standing, went weak in the knees.

"Tug my hair." He did. She put her hands behind her back and used just her mouth.

Taking a break to catch her breath, she asked, "What next? Your wish is my command."

He looked away, blushing. This may be too much for him. I don't blame him.

"I... I want to suck on your tits." He's truly sick. His mother's nipples stiffened.

"My darling boy," she said, as she pulled her dress off over her head. "Come to Mommy."

Oliver buried his face in his mother's sagging breasts. He kissed her chest and made his way to her left nipple. He kissed it, licked it, bit it. Isabella occasionally jerked him off, but she could hardly focus. Her nipples are so sensitive. It's incredible. I think, I think, I think I could... "Ahhhhhh." Her body shook from the orgasm. "Good job, Oliver James. The best boys make their mothers come."

Taking back the lead, Isabella led Oliver over to his bed. She had sex with him before on it, but that was in a different body. Oliver fell back on his bed as his mother crawled on top of him. Perched, she bounced up and down on his cock. She's a bit less flexible than me, but I think I can make it work. Oliver encircled her nipples with his thumbs. She leaned forward, and he used his tongue on her left nipple again. Jesus Christ, she's so sensitive. Lost in the ecstasy of the moment, Isabella tugged on his hair.

Isabella got off of him and said, "Take me from behind." She got on all fours and stuck her ass up. Oliver grabbed it and entered her. He leaned over her and grabbed her tits from behind. He's obsessed with his mother's breasts. He never pays any attention to mine. What the fuck is that about?

Isabella couldn't stay mad for too long, as she began moaning in pleasure. Oliver thrusting into her from behind, combined with her rubbing her clit while he tweaked her nipples was pure bliss. "How are you doing, sweetie?" she asked.

"Just fine, Mom." He was blushing. "How about you?"

"Don't lie, darling. It's sinful, just like that pornography you watch. You love this, I can tell."

The intercourse, the nipple play, and the clit rubbing were all in perfect sync.

Oliver backed out of her to take a break. "M-mom... Would, would it be okay if I..." Seriously? He's never even asked me. Well, that's going to have to change. And I need to make this mind-blowing for this whole thing to really work.

"Of course, son. Just go slow. And do you have any lube?" I know he does.

Oliver reached into his bedside table drawer and rummaged around. He pulled out a small bottle of lube and set it on the bed.

Arms wrapped around her thighs, Oliver stuffed his face in between his mother's ass cheeks. He stuck his tongue in her vaginal opening at first while he massaged her anus. Then he lapped his way up. Isabella, the sensation utterly new to her, squirmed.

"Oliver, that feels fucking incredible, holy shit."

He dripped the lube between her cheeks and drizzled some on his cock. He noticed the stretch marks on his mother's ass and kissed them. "I love you, Mom." Oliver grabbed both of her cheeks and entered her ass.

He rocked back and forth slowly. Wow. This is... different. "Remember, nice and slow."

"You got it, Mom."

Oliver rocked back and forth gently, just the tip of his penis inside. Isabella reached back and rubbed her clit. Oliver, of course, pinched her left nipple.

"How's it for you?"

"Unbelievable. How about you?"

"So f-f-fucking good." Isabella began fingering her pussy. Oliver kept rocking slowly back and forth. I've never felt this good, not ever. We have to give this a try on Tuesday. "Your hard cock feels incredible in my ass, I'm gonna come."

His mother's body jolted while he was still inside her, shaking from the orgasm. She moaned loudly.

"Where do you want to come, sweetie?"

Oliver took a moment to think while he was slowly rocking back and forth. Let me guess... "On your tits." Knew it!

Oliver pulled out, and Isabella rolled over. He straddled her abdomen and drizzled more lube on his cock. He began stroking it furiously. "That's it, Oliver James. That's it. Stroke your hard cock. It's so fucking sexy. Spray your come all over Mommy's breasts." Isabella squeezed her breasts together and ran her fingers along her nipples.

Oliver's head jerked back, and his ass tightened. He let out a deep groan. He ejaculated all over his mother's breasts, reaching all the way up to her chin. "Once again, you've made a mess that Mommy needs to clean up."

"I'll can help with the chores," he said, as he leaned down and began to lick up his semen, kissing all along his mother's chest.

Isabella pulled him close, and they snuggled. The sun had set.

"I love you, boo," Isabella said.

Oliver looked at her, surprised.

Oh fuck, I think I blew it.

Then he nustled against her, both of them floating in the afterglow.

Isabella stroked his hair as they snuggled. Now's my chance. "You were such a good boy today. What a man you've become. Can you promise me two things?"

"Of course, Mom. Anything for you."

"Cut out the porn, it's immoral."

"I will, honest. I promise."

"And let's let this be just a today thing, okay? Back to normal tomorrow."

"It may be a little awkward at first, but I think we can get back to normal, sure. Totally."

Isabella continued to run her hand through his hair. "Good night, darling."

Oliver fell asleep.

Isabella felt the connection with Oliver's mother's body begin to fade. She tucked Oliver in and returned to his mother's room. Exhausted but satisfied, she got into bed and closed her eyes.

Isabella awoke the next morning in her body, still collapsed next to the table where her candles were burnt down and the cauldron sat. She got up saw the purple flame extinguish. Well, that was fucking wild. I think it worked, though.

She checked her phone. Ten missed texts from Oliver. Isabella tapped out a response. "Everything's okay, but I appreciate your concern. Hope you had fun playing video games with your friends, sounds like it was a blast. Can't wait for our date on Tuesday!"

Oliver's mother awoke the next morning with a hangover. Every muscle in her body was sore. Her ass hurt a little bit, like the day after riding a bike for the first time in years. "What the?" She looked down at her chest. There was dried something all over it. "Must have really drooled last night." Oliver's mom checked the clock and saw the date. "Is the clock wrong? Where'd yesterday go?"

Oliver didn't watch porn that morning when he masturbated in bed. He had plenty of film in his mental reel. When he was finished, he took a shower and ate an apple for breakfast. His mom walked out in a robe.

"Morning, hunny."

"Morning, Mom." He smiled and blushed.

"What day is it? I think my clock and phone are both wrong."

"Today's Monday. You've got work in an hour. Don't you remember yesterday? We spent the whole day together."

"I don't remember a single thing." She poured herself a glass of water and took a few ibuprofen. "I'm sure it was nice, though. What mother wouldn't want to spend a day with her son?" She kissed him on the cheek. Oliver's knees knocked together; arousal shot through his body.

"Oliver," she leaned across the table and whispered. "When I asked you last week if you watch porn, you said 'No, never.' Were you being truthful with me?"

Oliver's face reddened as he finished chewing his bite of fettuccine Alfredo and took a sip of wine. Quiet jazz music filled the air of the small Italian restaurant. Isabella broke a breadstick in half and ran it through her salad dressing.

"I wasn't totally honest with you. I have watched it in the past. But I've stopped, honestly."

Isabella reached over and grabbed his hand. "Thank you, boo, for being honest with me. You know how I feel about that stuff. I don't want you to even need it. I want you to think of me whenever you're feeling aroused when I'm not around. Maybe we could try some new things in bed soon?"