A banana

Having excitedly selected your mother for merging, your mind suddenly goes blank when you try to think of something cool to merge her with. Your imagination having failed you, you shrug and run back to the kitchen. Pointing the calculator at the banana you were using earlier, you press the button.

The banana vanishes.

Nearly breathless, you go back to the laundry room to find her gone. You glance about in puzzlement until your eyes alight upon the top your mother had been wearing when you last saw her, now lying atop a pile of laundry next to the fallen basket. You drop to your knees and being carefully removing clothing from the pile. You move the top aside, shaking her empty bra from it as you do. You lift the waistband of her leggings, and tangled in her thong underwear you find what you are looking for.

It would look exactly like a banana were it not for the arms and legs sprouting from its sides. As you watch, the little yellow limbs kick and wave feebly. A tiny face - your mother's face - on the concave surface of the fruit registers a look of confusion. Her mouth opens and closes, but she makes no noise. You place you finger under where her chin should be and slowly draw it down the front of her peel, feeling first the bumps of her generous (but much reduced) breasts, then the slight indentation of her navel, then the slickness of her sex. Her mouth forms an O and her eyes roll back, showing only their yellows now.

Her sex!

In shock at having touched your mother's genitals, you draw your hand back. On your finger, you can see a slick shininess. You sniff your finger. It smells strongly of banana. Tentatively, you taste it. The pure, sweet essence of banana assails your taste buds.

You find yourself feeling three things all at the same time:

Guilty.

Turned On.

Hungry.