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Chapter 11 by Goonbot59 Goonbot59

What happened?

Both of them get hit with the beam (Stacy’s Perspective)

Stacy blinked against the spots dancing in her vision. The laundry room came back into focus, the hum of the machines, the scent of lavender detergent, but something felt... different.

Quickly looking around at herself, she was still the same person she had always been, a smoking hot, thirty-something-year-old, Asian trophy wife… right?

"Mom!"

The voice was sharp, familiar. Stacy turned- and froze.

Where Eric had stood moments before now lounged a stunning eighteen-year-old girl, all long legs and pouty lips, her designer loungewear barely containing her curves. Erica. Her daughter. Her biological daughter.

Her head throbbed as new memories slotted into place:

Raising Erica on her own after having a teen pregnancy, raising her on her own, managing to hit the jackpot by getting some loser millionaire leave his wife for her and getting showered with designer gifts and a life of luxury for her and her daughter.

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"Oh my God, Mom," Erica groaned, rolling her eyes. "You're so nosey. I leave my dildo in my laundry basket one time and you come down here to investigate?"

Stacy's mouth went dry. The gun- the gun was still in her hand.

"It's not like you don't get up to some freaky shit with Dad either," Erica continued, flipping her silky black hair. She nodded at the toy in Stacy's grip. "Like, what is that? A squirt gun? Jesus, embarrassing."

Stacy's fingers trembled around the plastic. She could feel the power humming through it, could see the proof standing before her, her stepson rewritten as her daughter, reality reshaped in an instant and she had no memory of ever being Eric.

And if it could do this...

"I'm sorry, baby," Stacy purred, slipping the gun into her robe pocket. She smoothed a hand over Erica's hair, marvelling at the silken strands beneath her fingers. "Mommy just worries."

Erica scoffed but allowed the touch.

As she swiftly exited from the laundry room, Stacy's mind raced with possibilities.

The gun weighed heavily in her hand as she walked back through the mansion.

Time to make some improvements.

What does Stacy do next?

More fun
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