A textbook

As you search through your desk for a suitable item, you knock over the stack of textbooks that sit largely untouched in the corner. While annoyed by the mess, one book catches your eye. It is an anatomy reference book that you needed for your mandatory semester of art. While the class was nothing special, the professor was a bombshell and the book was filled with images of naked models in every pose imaginable, to show all the curves and folds of the human form so that you could better recreate it. Several pages included illustrated cutaways, to show how the muscles moved through their range of motion and the effect it had at the surface. This book had served as fine fetish fuel with all the tight bodies and spread legs contained within. You always figured that the author must have known this, because the latter part of the book included detailed closeups of the model's vagina and an overly detailed section on the reproductive system. When someone had asked the professor about this detail, she had shrugged and chalked it up to the proclivities of artists. That or the author gave up halfway through a separate medical text and decided to combine the two.

Seeing nothing else immediately jumping out, you point the calculator at the textbook, and hit =. You cover your eyes in preparation for the now expected flash of light, and after a second lower your arm to find... nothing.

Where before the textbook sat, there is now nothing on top of the desk. After a moment of confusion, you decide to check your mom's room. If the new object didn't appear where the book was, then surely it must have appeared where your mother was.

You enter your mother's bedroom, where your mom usually goes for a nap while she waits for the laundry to run. You spot a figure on the bed and freeze, suddenly afraid that it didn't work and your mom just caught you barging into her room. On a second glance, you notice that it isn't a person on the bed, but just clothes. The exact outfit your mother was just wearing, a blue top and yoga pants that hug her curves just right. At first you wonder if she just changed, but the way they are arranged gives you your doubts.

It isn't very often that people take off their clothes and place them on the bed in the shape of a sleeping person. It also isn't likley that they arrange their socks to match up perfectly with the legs of their pants. You grab one of the socks and notice it is still warm. Now confident that the merge worked, you just have to figure out what the result was, and where it is?

Spotting a lump in your mom's shirt, you pick it up and give it a shake. Disappointingly(?) the only thing that comes out is your mom's 36DD bra, still clasped together. You give out an impressed whistle as you compare the still warm cup of the bra to your face. Finding nothing else you turn your attention to the yoga pants. You pick up the abandoned pants by the legs and shake them out. This time two objects come out, the panties your mother must have been wearing today (rather ordinary, besides the message "Hot Stuff" on the back) and a book. With slightly trembling hands you pick up the book and examine the cover. The cover looks largely the same, with a model in the Warrior II pose, except now the image was your mother, naked as the day she was born. Feeling your heart pounding, and your penis straining at your shorts, you quickly make your way back to your room, closing the door behind you. You take a quick glance into the laundry room and see that there is still an hour left on the washer, which should be enough time to examine your new book and cancel the merge before anyone notices.

Now safe in your room you put the textbook on your desk and open the cover to see the preface. Whereas before it thanked all the models for participating in his project, now only a single name appeared; Jennifer Smith, your mother. It now also includes a second preface, seemingly written by your mother, where she gushes over hot it is that she's now printed throughout the pages and how she can't wait for people to lustfully gaze at her. This struck you as a bit odd, as the first preface was written in the context of a author thankful for all the effort that went into the project, while the second seemed to be aware that she was the book itself.

Pushing that thought aside, you flip to the center of the book, which consists of a collection of transparent images which look at the various layers of the body, and stack together to create the whole thing. The first page is a painted image of a skeleton. It looks like any generic skeleton until you notice a mark on the left tibia, which you remember a story of how your mother broke her arm falling off the swing in elementary school. You feel chills down your back as you realize that this is what your mother looks like underneath it all. Knowing its just an painted image and not a photo of the real thing moves the experience from scary to horny, at least a bit. You briefly look at the nervous system and the digestive system, but nothing too notable. Next is the muscular system, which gives you pause. While a bit morbid, seeing the fat that makes up your mother's breasts, also strikes you as just a bit sexy. The final page covers everything up with her skin and you finally see her breasts in all their glory. You also note the neatly trimmed pubic hair down below.

Eager to continue, you start flipping through the rest of the book, where you find your mother in almost any pose you can imagine, some that you don't even think your mother could physically do. You see her bent over, stretched out, curled up, and in more yoga poses than you knew existed. You land on a page with her lounging with one leg raised into the air. Seeing the spread of your mother's pussy, and her breasts hanging lazily to the side pushes you over the edge. You climax into a waiting tissue, not wanting to stain your mom for fear of lasting effects. Now more relaxed, you leaf through more of the book and notice that the captions associated with the pictures seem to be commentary from your mother with a rather lewd tilt. Many note how the pose accentuates her curves, or shows off her round ass. Some even note how some would make good sex positions. You find yourself agreeing with many of these remarks.

Noticing that you are running low on time, you quickly run back to your mother's room and try to arrange the book and clothes back how you found it. You leave the door open just enough that you can view the bed as you hit the cancel key. To your relief, your mother reappears on the bed, with her clothes only looking a little more disheveled than before. You walk back to the room in awe of the power you now possess, but wonder if there is a way to transform someone without them worrying about the passage of time. Or else people might start noticing something is off...