Improve John’s Johnson

“What you mean I look like…this?” I asked, offended. “You’re the one that shrunk my dick!”

“Well, that’s true…” She smiled. “Come here and let mommy make it better.” She beckoned me over with a finger, and my body started walking toward her without my input.

“What the…I’m…not using my legs!” I cry.

“It looks like you’re using them just fine,” she giggles. I look at her young face and her deep green eyes in terror. She’s holding the wand up again with a grin. “Your body obeys what the ladies say…remember?” she sings softly as I approach. The wand didn’t glow this time.

“I think you ran it out of magic,” I said, trying to move from the spot. I couldn’t, though.

“No good casting a spell that’s already working, John. I was just reminding you of why your legs might seem out of sorts to you. Now…” She steps back a little and looks me up and down. “Let’s see how literally this thing takes me. My frowning son I will enhance, we start by stripping off his pants.” I dare to hold my arms in place when I hear the words, refusing to let them anywhere near the button on my jeans. Of course that doesn’t matter, though. I still have no control over my legs, because I can’t move.

Mom’s delighted reaction and dropping jaw returned my attention to my waist, where I feel motion in almost the same moment. I look down and gasp to see my jeans unbuttoning themselves. I look back up at my power-crazy mother, biting down on her pillowy lip as she stares at my enchanted jeans, obeying her command all by themselves.

They unzip and pull themselves open, curling down around my thighs and revealing my boxer shorts. My mom’s expression turns a little disappointed.

“When did it become all boxers with you?” She asked. “You used to wear the cutest little briefs, and…”

“Mom!” I shout. “Come on, I don’t want to hear that.” She sighs.

“Darling, I think I know best about what you need to hear. Your cock should have a shapely sheath, so turn these boxers into briefs.”

I feel the clothing grip me as it wraps tight around my body, the legs of my boxers gathering up around the tops of my thighs and somehow becoming elasticized. The hole in front morphs, and instead of the black and red plaid pattern of my boxers, the colors shift to black briefs with a red pouch and red trim.

And, okay, fine…they’re actually kind of bad-ass underwear--but the fact that nothing is filling the pouch is all I’m actually thinking of right now.

“Those are cuuuute! Do you like your undies, John?” Mom’s chest is swaying back and forth, like she’s moving to music I can’t hear. My face reddens. My cock is actually getting hard at this situation, but only an insect with an infrared scope would see it.

“Actually, mom…” I smile, hamming it up to get in her good graces, “They’re like…briefs I would actually wear, so thanks!” She beams at my gratitude in a way that reminds me this is absolutely still my mom, despite her looking like an early twenties Hollywood version of herself. “The problem is my dick.” She nodded, snapping.

“Right! Right! I’m sorry about that, honey. It was just an off the cuff rhyme, and I still didn’t really believe that it would worked.” She got that look in her eyes again as she stared at my underwear.

“Let’s see under my son’s briefs. Make their waistband flash his piece.”

“No! Mom, you know what you…” The underwear peel back from my front side, and I don’t even want to look at it. I close my eyes hard and look away, and my mother laughs hysterically. “Mom, what the fuck!?”

“John! John, I’m so sorry, I just—you don’t expect something like this to work, let alone take you literally,” She said. “It’s so crazy that…I mean how would something like that even work?” She asked.

“IT PROBABLY DOESN’T WORK, IT’S LITERALLY A TOOTHPICK!” I cry out, still refusing to look. “And listen! You levitated my Cheetos, made cake from thin air and fixed the dishwasher all BEFORE you decided to do this to my cock!” So much for hamming it up. I guess I lost my chances of winning her over pretty quickly.

Listen, just consider my position, okay? Literally the size of a toothpick. I watched mom’s face break, though. Did she look a little ashamed of her debauchery? Apparently my outburst actually hit the right maternal triggers, because I didn’t get immediately wanded into a pig or something. My waistband stopped stretching on its own, and my joke of a dick was obscured again.

“John, I said I was sorry. Don’t be angry, I swear mommy will fix it.” With the Mommy thing again. This wand was doing things to her. “Of the magical gifts I shall give to my son, let’s start with the obvious and make him well hung.”

I swelled in my briefs immediately. I was fine with my size before mom started slinging spells with a plot-device out of one of her books…but she was generous, because I could certainly feel the difference in the space I took up.

“Whoa, that’s…pretty big,” I said, adjusting myself. I was still aroused, but I wasn’t standing at full mast or anything.

“Maybe we should get a better look,” Mom said, pointing the wand.

___

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