Fashion show

American Dad – Possession Story Chapter 6: The Fashion Show

Steve (in Francine’s body) grinned at the shocked faces of Snot, Barry, and Toshi. “You guys wanna see something crazy? I’ve been trying on Mom’s clothes all day. Watch this.”

He disappeared upstairs and came back a few minutes later in a tight red cocktail dress that hugged every curve. The guys’ jaws dropped.

“Whoa… Steve — I mean, Mrs. Smith — those things look insane in that dress,” Snot said, already snapping pictures on his phone. “They’re like… perfectly round. How do they even stay up?”

Steve struck a pose, pushing Francine’s chest out. “Right? They’re so heavy. Watch this.” He bounced a little, making them jiggle. “Bounce test complete.”

Barry whistled. “Dude, your mom’s body is stacked. Those hips are wider than Hayley’s. Can you turn around? Yeah… that ass looks crazy in that dress. This is the best day of my life.”

Toshi just kept taking photos silently, eyes wide.

Steve laughed and ran upstairs again. Next outfit: a tiny black leather skirt and a low-cut top. He strutted back down like a runway model.

“Check it out,” Steve said, turning slowly. “This skirt barely covers anything. Mom’s legs look way longer in heels.”

Snot was grinning like an idiot. “Bro, if I didn’t know it was you I’d be trying to get with your mom right now. Those tits are popping out. Can we get one more bounce?”

Steve obliged, laughing the whole time as the guys kept snapping pictures and making crude comments:

“Those things are hypnotizing.” “Imagine the cleavage selfie.” “Your mom’s body is wasted on her, dude.”

The montage continued — yoga pants that made everything look extra round, a cheerleader outfit Steve found in the back of the closet, even one of Francine’s old bikini tops with shorts. The guys were losing their minds, taking endless photos and hyping Steve up with increasingly perverse jokes.

Finally, while rummaging through the basement for more clothes, Steve tripped over something shiny.

“Whoa… guys, come look at this.”

They gathered around the strange chrome brain-swap machine still humming faintly on the workbench.

Steve (in Francine’s body) stared at it, hands on his wide hips.

“That’s gotta be the thing that did this to me…”