Becoming a walking nutritional snack.

In truth, before we had begun this little adventure, I’d had a discussion with the Studio’s lovely avatar about the role I wanted her to play in this. Obviously, it would be twofold, the first role was to play my mother in this reality, which she was doing an amazing job of so far. The second role was to be the aforementioned tool that I used to exert my godlike will. Of course we needed a decent way communicate out of character, a discreet way, a way I could utilize to make changes on the fly if I desired them. This was one such occasion.

I retrieved my smartphone from the pocket of my skirt and opened it to my contacts. There were two different contacts related to Amelia, there was one titled “Mom” with a heart emoji next to it, then there was one simply titled “Amelia”. Both of these contacts were the same person, but messages sent to the latter would only contain instructions for the Studio, the former would be roleplaying.

I composed a text to Amelia, “I want to ejaculate more, and I want my cum to be nutritious and healthy to consume, being the equivalent to a full meal if consumed on its own. Otherwise, the ejaculate is always fresh and won’t ever go stale. My family knows this about me, but nobody else does yet.”

Without even a second of delay, I had a reply, “Done.” My mother had not retrieved or even looked at her phone. Perfect, just the way I wanted it.

“I suppose it’s not a big deal,” My mother said, “it will fill her up just fine but I wish she would get a little more variety in her breakfasts.”

“Yeah.” I said and shrugged. I half-expected to feel different now that my sperm was evidently food now. But I didn’t. The only thing I noticed that may have been different, and only because I had been looking for changes, was a few empty glass bottles on the counter next to the toaster that I was pretty sure hadn’t been there before.

“Well, you just make sure that if she doesn’t get her breakfast in the morning that she gets something in that stubborn gut of hers.” She continued in a very motherly tone.

“I don’t think that will be an issue, mom.” I nodded confidently at her.

She frowned slightly. “If you say so, Quinny. I should head out now, make sure you two get to school on time.”

And I did.

It turned out that Penny didn’t have her license yet. When I gently poked fun at her for it in a way I had hoped was consistent with older brother teasing—I, of course, had no idea being an only child in truth—, she just pointed out that she had her own private chauffer, so she didn’t need one yet. And today she definitely hadn’t needed one. We rode up to the school without incident.

She wasn’t just along for the ride, though. My mother had thankfully thought to text Penny the address of the school so she could plug it into her maps app and provide directions. She had been a good navigator, albeit a slightly distracting one with her hand up my skirt and gently groping at my bulge. By the time we had arrived at the school and had parked, I had given her a second helping of breakfast, which she drank heartily.

“So I did some research on this place last night,” Penny began, wiping her lips with her hand and making sure there wasn’t anything leftover, “there are only three other guys in the whole school. Which means you are likely to be something of a celebrity around here.”

“Is that so?” I asked, panting as I unbuckled myself and rested for a moment.

“Yep. And in fact, word has already spread about us. One of the students who helps out in the administrative office spilled the beans that we’re related to the principal.”

“Oh, is that bad?”

“Our mom isn’t really the same kind of person to the student body that she is at home. She’s not unfair but is very firm and intimidating to them.” That sounded about right, it was exactly the kind of person I had told her to be, after all. “So they really have no idea what to expect when it comes to her kids.

“Listen, I’ve known you my whole life, you’re not really so good at the whole… socializing thing. You’re an introvert, and that’s okay; I love you for it.” She added that last bit the way a lover might, not the way a sister might, sending a rush of heat through my body that I sort of liked. “So, here’s the deal: I’m gonna be the social butterfly, I’ll take care of how everyone sees you. I’m pretty good at that. Question is, what would you want your reputation be? Given that you’ll probably be popular, it might be important.”

That was an interesting question, and it had me stumped for a moment. What, indeed? I stared up at the reflection of myself in the rear-view mirror, hoping to derive inspiration.

“Confident, kind, proud but not in a cocky way. I don’t want people to think I’m unapproachable.”

“I like it. I won’t have to lie. Much,” she added this last word with a tongue stuck out. I responded by giving her a soft punch on the arm. “Okay okay, I’m sure by now you know the way guys get treated by ladies. On a scale of one to ten, how much should I be encouraging people to um, enjoy you?”

I blushed; it was a forward but very important question. I thought about it for a minute, there was a lot to consider. But what had been my thought way back when I was first designing the rules to this world? May as well go full-hog?

“Ten.”