Dawn of my new life.

When my eyes opened, I was staring at an unfamiliar ceiling. It was not the ceiling of my apartment, I was happy to say. I decided that this would be the best way to begin this new life, this new very real roleplay, waking up.

I sat up excitedly and peered around my room. There wasn’t much, it was bare minimum. The reason for its emptiness was simple, I was too excited to begin this new life to worry about what the house looked like. But the “canon” reason, for lack of a better word, was that the room in my previous home had been tiny, and I hadn’t much belongings anyway. Still, this room was more than adequate.

As far as this reality’s “canon” was concerned, my mother had been spending years saving up so that not only could she afford this home, but also afford to deck it out with plenty of things to spoil us in her more than motherly love for us. My own room sported a very nice stereo system, a very nice TV that was better than the one I had back in my own reality, a super powerful gaming laptop that would last me a good long time before I would need to update it, and a sleek modern vanity covered in an array of makeup and jewelry; all in lieu of decoration, which hadn’t been a priority.

I didn’t actually know how to do my makeup, but my new mother had informed me that this vanity was special and would let me apply whatever makeup I wanted automatically. Figuring out how it worked wasn’t a very big priority at the moment, though, I looked pretty damn good without it, and perhaps showing up to my first day of school all natural was a good idea. So instead I looked to my closet on the far side of the room which held within it a dresser containing all the clothes I had picked out before embarking.

I was informed that as a direct result of trivializing sex to be a mere recreational act, I had also caused the world’s idea of dress-codes to shift. Casual wear was very casual now, and revealing outfits was pretty normal for modern day wear. Even professional outfits were a bit more revealing, but not by much. While it was still polite for uniforms to be a little conservative, there were no such rules regarding casual-wear. The only thing that might limit the amount of skin on display would be an individual’s own personal insecurities.

But I had no such insecurities. I felt no dysphoria and no shame for my new form.

I started with the underwear drawer. When I withdrew the first pair that I laid eyes on, a simple black pair with a tiny purple bow on the front, my first instinct was doubt. There was no way I could slide my fat ass into this tiny thing. Then I laughed at my initial reaction, turning to look at a standing mirror just to cement the idea in my head. I wasn’t obese anymore; I was thin as a twig.

Although, admittedly, my ass was still pretty big, in a good way though. If the panties didn’t fit, it wouldn’t have been because of how thick I was, it would be because of how “thicc” I was, as online communities might have called it. And I was perfectly okay with that. I quickly slid the panties around my legs and pulled them up around my hips. When they had reached their destination, I had nearly started crying again, I did tear up at how perfectly they fit. I don’t think I was ever going to stop being happy about my new body and the things I could do with it.

Luckily, I was a grower, so my package just poked out of the front of the pair of panties in a round, cute bulge. I imagined that if I popped a boner at some point, which I was positive was going to happen, the shaft would extend up past the hem of the undergarment, which was also fine but may have meant it would be wise to wear something like a skirt.

A cursory search of the drawers found the bottoms and skirts before long, and I drew out a casual black pleated skirt that was pretty short. When I put it on, the fabric went down to about the middle of my thigh. I realized that if indeed I did get a stiffy, the shaft wouldn’t be able to go up, it would just go out and make a pretty prominent tent that would probably lift the front of the skirt up. This thought didn’t really deter me though, in fact it made my bulge twitch slightly. With a blush I tried to banish the thought, I was almost done.

After some consideration of many different tops, I ultimately went with a spaghetti-strap cropped tanktop. It was white with a red heart in the middle. I thought it was cute, and pretty good for a first-day shirt. After one final glance in the mirror, I did a twirl and nodded, satisfied with the look. I glanced down at my new feet and the dainty toes. I had a few options for shoes, but I kind of wanted to show off so I went with a pair of flip-flops. I walked back and forth in my room for a bit, getting used to the way they felt when I walked with them, I had never worn flip-flops before.

Once I was totally satisfied, and put on an assortment of jewelry, I stepped out of my door and into the unfamiliar hallway. The corridor was flanked by two doors, neither of which I knew the purpose of. We hadn’t gone over the layout of the house at all in the Studio, it was all a mystery to me. One of the doors held a potential clue to its purpose in the form of a sign, but that sign read “Penny” which wasn’t much more helpful than nothing. Perhaps it was my sister’s room?

At the end of the hallway was a set of stairs that led down into what appeared to be a kitchen. Ignoring the sign for now, I descended the stairs to find Amelia, my new mother, hurrying herself around the neat and spacious kitchen to get ready for work.

“There he is,” she said, smiling widely at my arrival, “my favorite son.”

“I’m your only son.” I replied with my own smile that I hoped looked snarky. In truth I was feeling a twinge of awkwardness. She and I both knew what was really happening. We both knew that I was essentially the god of this reality and she was the tool I used to alter it. But here we were, playing house. It was exciting. I was pretty sure I understood why people enjoyed roleplaying now.

“Right, which means you’re my favorite by default.”

I chuckled and walked toward her to embrace her. She was a whole head taller than me, which meant it was pretty easy to place my face between her hefty breasts. Their softness was both suffocating and delightful.

“What, no good morning kiss?” she asked, feigning heartbreak, “has my dear baby boy grown too cynical for such things?”

Without wasting any effort, I brought myself up to my tiptoes and extended my lips to hers, pressing them together in a loving peck. If her hand hadn’t brought itself to the back of my head and held it in place, a peck might have been the extent of the kiss, but instead I felt her warm and wet tongue worm itself into my mouth.

The feeling was immediate. Shame and taboo. She was, at least in this reality, my mother and I was making out with her like a lover. This was also my first real kiss in any reality. And I loved every second of it. The kiss was wet and passionate. It was like she was molesting my mouth with her tongue, driving it deeper inside and probing its depths. My skirt was already tenting, and I hadn’t even been fully dressed for five minutes yet.

“Get a room.” I heard from behind me, a voice that was remarkably like my own new voice. The feeling of vertigo you got when you knew you were doing something wrong and had been caught in the act came full **** then.

I whirled around to look at the newcomer. For a split second I thought I was looking in a mirror, she looked very much like my own new self, but with notable differences. She was slightly shorter than me, not quite as thin as me but by no means overweight, she had the same sort of voluptuousness that Amelia had. This included a rather large bust, not quite as large as my mother’s, but still impressive, and a pair of deliciously thick thighs. I could tell these features primarily because her current state of dress included only a pair of red panties and a black t-shirt that was very tight, hugging all of her curves in a wonderful way.

She was looking at me with bright red eyes that were angled downward toward their outer edges, giving her a very laid-back almost lazy look. Those eyes were peeking through a bed-headed messy mop of black hair that I figured went down to the middle of her back.

“Penelope, you scared your brother.” My mother chastised, though not harshly. So, my sister’s name was Penelope, now the sign made sense. Penny would be her nickname.

“Sorry,” the offending sister said through a rather intense yawn. She didn’t actually seem perturbed by the fact that I had just been making out with our mother. But that was to be expected, my rational mind was now telling me, **** wasn’t a taboo anymore.

“You should apologize to him,” my mother continued, pulling herself away and continuing her busywork.

I expected the new sister to give some sort of half-hearted “sorry” or perhaps a hug and continue about her business. This is not what she did. She smoothly, almost fluidly, moved close to me and planted a deep kiss on my lips just like the one my mother had just given me.

“There’s a good girl,” Mom said.

I felt a soft chuckle from Penny. The two of them had very different kissing styles. While my mother had been more aggressive and playful, Penny was very passive, urging me to take the lead with my lips and tongue. The tent in my skirt was twitching like mad.

Without any warning I felt the distinctive feeling of a hand slide along my shaft under my skirt. I let out a soft squeak into my sister’s mouth and felt her chuckle again. There were a lot of firsts happening today, and this was the first time my penis had ever been touched by anyone but me. Her soft fingers wrapped around my cock and began to gently stroke it.

“While it warms my heart to no end seeing my two children getting along so well,” I heard mom say distantly, “you should probably be getting some breakfast. Especially you, Penny, you don’t even look like you’re ready for school yet.”

“I’m—smack—about to—slurp—get it now.” Was Penny’s response between gentle but delightful kisses. Even her slow pace was too much to bear, this had been a morning of too many firsts, and it was catching up to me.

Not wanting to break up the kiss to tell her I was close, I let out a soft whimper and bucked my hips slightly instead, hoping she would get the picture. I didn’t want to make a mess.

It seemed she did get some kind of picture, because her hand began moving a bit more quickly, but still maintaining a maddeningly steady pace. I couldn’t see what she was doing down there, even if my eyes were at a good angle to do so, I would have a difficult time seeing past her hefty melons. I just had to trust that my new sister knew what she was doing.

With a squeak of pleasure, I felt the distinct and familiar feeling of my penis shooting its load. The fingers wrapped around it continued to jerk the length, coaxing out as much of my sperm as it could, and I was happy to let it. The constant milking served to make the climax last a bit longer than it might have normally, and when it was finished, I almost stumbled backward, panting.

“Mmm there it is,” Penny said. Evidently, she had cupped her other hand in front of my cock while I was ejaculating, because the one that hadn’t been stroking me was covered in a thin layer of pearly goop. Without wasting any time, she brought the hand up to her lips and began to lick and suckle the substance off. I could hear her swallow it down. Fuck that was hot.

“Is that all you’re gonna have?” Mom asked.

After finishing up the cream on her fingers, Penny nodded. “Yep! It was pretty tasty too, thank you Quinny!” She said and then turned around to go back up the stairs to her room with an extra pep in her step.

My mother and I looked at each other. Her face was one of concern, motherly concern, and something about the look gave me the impression that this wasn’t the first time it had happened either. That in the “canon” of this reality, Penny had a concerning habit of skipping meals. Once I realized this, I had no shortage of worry myself for the matter. But the memory of her licking and slurping up the remnants of my cum had given me an idea.