Jill's Victory

Jill was elated. Her plan had come to fruition, and it couldn't have gone better. Ever since her father had given her that spell book when she turned eighteen, she knew she could have anything she wanted. But this, well, this was a little beyond what she had hoped for.

A laugh escaped her now-thin lips, a baritone laugh that she recognized as her son's voice. Her voice, she corrected herself, now that she'd taken over his body. Again she looked down, admiring the view. No chest to speak of beneath her white blouse, but that was to be expected. A small bulge was showing in the front of her black skirt, again causing her smile to grow. As she listened to the tapping noise of her heels on the sidewalk, she reveled in the vigor she felt.

Eighteen again!

How she had missed youth, how she had craved it. Just that morning she had spent far too long in the washroom staring at the lines that had begun to form on her face. Sure, she could use her substantial magic to make them vanish, but the change would just disguise her, not change the fact that she was a thirty-six year-old woman, aging, growing ever closer to ****...

Jill pushed the thought from her mind. She'd just halfed her age! So what that she had to change genders. The spell had worked perfectly; Jill would get to keep her life, while getting this young, energetic body. There was no downside.

Well, there was one downside.

A piece of Jill, the small part that still cared about being a good mother, twinged at her heart. She'd used her son, pushed him into losing part of his life, giving up so much.

So what, she told herself, he was miserable. A year ago Alan was bored, depressed, no future, nothing going for him. I've made him happy!

And she had, in fact, made him that way. The mind manipulation spell had taken forever, eight months to take full affect. She'd watched her son the past few years descend into existential quagmires of depression, and Jill was sick of it. What her son needed was focus, something he wanted, something he needed.

Jill gave it to him.

She'd started with his dreams. A tweak here and there, heating them up sexually, but changing the perspective so that he was on the receiving end, not the giving. As those took hold, then came his tastes. Jill began to magically prod him, push him toward admiring women's bodies in new ways, in hungry, jealous ways. Not lustfully, but enviously.

Finally, Jill took all that attention, all of that hunger growing within Alan, and aimed it toward herself.

And it had worked. Their relationship had suffered, of course, over the year. Alan was far to jealous of his mother to be able to love her like he used to. She didn't mind. Jill knew that down inside, he was becoming exactly what she needed, someone who would willingly, gladly give up his body, his youth, for his mother. For the chance to touch her, to feel her, to be her.

Again she ran her fingers up through her short hair and laughed. Youth had found her, and she was never going to let it go.