On herself

My mother paces around the kitchen, tapping the pink plastic star against her palm. "Okay I wrote a story just like this once, I just need to remember what my character did first. By the end she was mostly just having sex with her harem of hot men and women, but I think she did some self improvement first. Oh, right," she does a twirl on her heel, wand in the air like she expected it to shower her with sparkles. "I will go through life with ease, never catching a disease."

I sit up on the table, slowly, as though I'm trying not to catch the attention of a dinosaur. I don't dare try to run. Not with her ability.

"Let's see, what else, what else," she taps her foot, looking down at her body as if unsure what else to fix. She then gets distracted by the way her new tits bounce, and puts a little extra effort into that. "Hee hee, that's fun. I've never been able to do that. Imagine if I was young before the.. oh that's right." She points the wand at herself. "I'm young and hot like a college co-ed, but not a bimbo since I'm not brain dead."

Before my eyes her body shifts. Her waist narrows, her hips widen, breasts lift until her shirt appears tight around them, clearly demonstrating their shape through the thin fabric. The wrinkles in her face vanish and her eyes shape until they begin to narrow and tilt, but a deep green that is hard to look away from. Her lips take on an inviting shape and part just slightly, looking pink, and like they're made for... kissing. Just kissing I tell myself.

Even her mousy hair that I inherited falls sleek in well styled dark waves long down her back. But that's not all, her clothes shift to match her new style. Her casual shirt tightens around her curvaceous torso, giving a tantalizing peak at her flat, toned stomach whenever she lifts her arms. Her sweats tighten into leggings that hug her long, muscled legs. Her makeup appears natural accenting her already beautiful face to emphasize her features. She's still my mother, I have to remind myself.

"Wow..." She marvels at her body. Her hands dart around her figure as if she has too many places she wants to check, but no organized way to do it. "I really am hot! Isn't this amazing, John? I'm like, a model or something. Wow even my voice is younger!" It's certainly higher in pitch, but something in her inflection sounds new and inexperienced.

"Yeah, Mom, it's really something," I say, but my voice comes out halfhearted.

Mom pouts at me like a rich girl whose daddy won't buy her another car. "Come ooon sweetie, you know this is amazing, don't you?" She again starts to raise her wand toward me, but I don't think she even knows she's doing it. It's concerning if this is starting to get automatic.

"Yes! Yes it's great. You're young again, and you're immune to disease. It's fantastic."

"And I'm hot," she prompts, eyebrows raising in expectation.

"And... you're hot," I say, admitting it aloud more than appeasing her.

"Good. Then we should do you next." She taps the wand to her chin and clicks her tongue. Her eyes roam my body, appraising, in a way I'd seen her to do her art before. "We're going to need you hot too. Maybe we'll experiment with you a little. You're my son, I have unlimited power, and you look like... that."