Kyle Mitchell, hard-working high school senior

Kyle Mitchell let out a sigh.

“First essay completed. Two more to go,” he muttered. He opened a new word document on his computer and typed his name and class in the header.

Kyle didn’t understand why he’d ever signed up for that AP English class with Ms. Torres. Sure, the extra college credits he’d gain by completing the AP exam would help him immensely when he attended university, but he was always under the impression that childhood was supposed to be about things like personal enjoyment and adventure.

But I’m not a kid anymore…

The eighteen year-old sighed again. He didn’t feel like an adult, no matter what his age said. He hadn’t even lost his virginity, and he found that immensely pathetic, especially considering the fact that he was cooped up in his room while his friends were out on dates with their girlfriends.

I bet Jim’s fucking Mandy right now. Lucky bastard.

Thoughts of a tanned blonde with long legs and big breasts flittered through his mind and he sighed again.

There was only one real saving grace to Kyle’s academic self-harm, in his view, and that was the fact that his AP English teacher Sofia Torres was easily one of the hottest women he’d ever seen. She hid her body well under thick sweaters and long, baggy pants, but every so often the Latina babe showed up to class in one of those thin pencil skirts and tight blouses. Getting a tease of the hourglass figure his brown-skinned teacher hid beneath her clothes almost made the class worth it in his view.

If only Ms. Torres saw me as an adult.

Kyle shook his head of his musings. It would not do to dwell on something that was entirely unattainable, especially to someone like him who’d had no real luck with women, to say nothing of achingly gorgeous exotic women in their mid-twenties.

He began typing again, but suddenly his computer screen began to flicker. He started to feel tingly in his arms and the feeling soon spread to his chest and the rest of his body.

“What the hell?”

He heard a knock on his door. He looked back at his computer. The flickering had stopped.

Weird.

There was another round of knocking on his door.

“Yeah?” he turned in his wheeled computer chair and looked past his bed to the white wood of his door.

“Kyle, can I come in?” that was his mother.

Kyle shrugged, dismissing the earlier weirdness outright.

“Sure.”

The door opened and Sandra Mitchell stepped through. She had light auburn hair and bright blue eyes. Her creamy pale skin looked smooth and delicate along her face and arms and legs. She wore a thin white tank top and black gym shorts. Kyle saw perspiration dripping down her neck and into her generous cleavage and immediately averted his eyes.

Christ, I can’t look at Mom like that! Even if she is really, really well-endowed…

And she was. Sandra Mitchell, aged forty-one, was a spectacle for a woman her age. Her breasts were arguably her most notable feature, jutting out proudly from her chest with minimal sag. Her stomach was smooth and with minimal flab before flaring out to one of the juiciest bubble butts Kyle had ever seen, though he tried his hardest to never think about or acknowledge it.

Sandra looked past him at his desk and then back to him. “How’s the work going?”

“So-so,” Kyle made a wavy gesture with his hand. “What’s up? Did you need help with anything?”

“No, nothing like that,” Sandra smiled warmly. “I just wanted to see how you were doing. I’m thinking about ordering a pizza tonight. How does that sound?”

Kyle grinned. He was always in the mood for pizza.

He tried to open his mouth to reply, but nothing happened. He tried moving his arms and legs to no avail. On the verge of panic, he realized that he could still move his eyes and he looked around the room, wondering if the tingling sensation he'd felt earlier had somehow paralyzed him.

Then he realized that his mother wasn’t moving either.

Her eyes stared past him, unseeing.

Mom, help me.

He couldn’t form the words.

Instead, something formed in front of him. A blue, translucent box full of many blue letters.

What the hell?

(Welcome to the Dialogue Menu, User. Please select a subject to engage in Dialogue with, or close the Menu.)

He looked over to his mother again, and despite himself he couldn’t help tracing the outlines of her voluptuous body. His eyes zeroed in on her cleavage, memorizing every detail. The box shifted in front of him.

Sandra Mitchell (1500 Agreeableness Points)

(01) Sure, Pizza sounds great!

(01) No, I’m not in the mood for pizza tonight.

W-what?

And they went on and on.

(50) Go away, Mom, and don’t come back in here for the rest of the night. (Debuff – Maternal Authority (500 points).)

(50) Sure, I’ll take some pizza. Bring it up to my room when it gets here, won’t you? (Debuff – Maternal Authority (500 points).)

And on.

(1000) Bend over and show me your ass, Mom. (Debuff – Maternal Authority (500 points). Debuff – Familial Propriety (700 points).)

What in the world? Huh, why’s that one grayed out? Wait, why am I even thinking about this? How the hell did this happen? How do I get out of it? Maybe… maybe if I pick one it’ll go away, but which one?

His eyes traced the menu and it seemed to want to scroll along with his vision.

That’s neat. No need for me to move my body to select an option. Sooo… I can just tell her pizza is fine. Yeah, definitely picking that one.

The menu dissipated and time seemed to resume. Kyle felt his lips move and his voice speak on autopilot, but he couldn’t quite make out the words he was saying. It was an incredibly disorienting experience.

Sandra smiled, giving no indication that she’d seen, heard, or felt anything strange.

“Okay, honey. I’ll place the order now.”

She left his room and Kyle tried ignore the way her ass called out to him as she moved.

What the fuck just happened?