keep going

Chapter by thedude1

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“Mom, where is this Dr. Newman’s office?” you demand, thinking this might be a worthwhile subject to explore. “In your father’s building on the top floor, master,” she replied. This whole thing felt weird. You had to find a way to go investigate this Dr. Newman. Maybe he could tell you something about your situation, and maybe he could tell you about your mother’s lapses…perhaps they were connected somehow? “Mom,” you begin, “I want to go talk to Dr. Newman, but I’ll need a body to do that….can….can I use yours?” “Of course master,” she says sleepily, “I want you to use my body master.”

“All right,” you conclude to yourself, “here goes nothing,” and you withdrew your ghostly arm from your mother’s torso. Suddenly she jerked awake and looked around. “Dammit!” she said, “the lapses are back! At least I didn’t wake up naked anywhere this time,” she says to herself as she stands up in her room. “Got to get back to the hospital to check on Josh!” she resolves. She was oblivious to the whole episode that had just taken place! To her the whole “master” thing was just there and gone in the blink of an eye. She stands quickly and walks to the door. “Not so fast mom,” you say as you walk up behind her, then simply into her body. Your mother’s curvy form jerks and spasms a bit, then you feel the familiar tug of globes on your chest again. You glance down at yourself, again inside your mom’s body, and reach up and cup your breasts to acclimate yourself to your form again. “We’ve got an appointment,” you say to yourself in her voice.

You walk, hips swaying, from your mother’s room and out the front door of your house to the car. You gingerly get in and fasten your safety belt, feeling the odd tugging of the belt against your jello-like chest. You glance at her face in the mirror, filled with trepidation and an age line here or there. “Here we go mom,” you say to her reflection as you turn on the car and set off. You slowly make your way to your father’s building, which is really a giant complex on the edge of town…a lot of stuff happens there. Every pot hole and speed bump sends a jiggle through your mother’s body, reminding you all the more that it isn’t yours. Reaching the complex and parking the car, you glance out at the building you know is your father’s. People file in and out of the doors about their business. You step from the car and make your way toward the building. Walking into the building, you look on the wall and see a directory of offices and their occupants’ names. Running your mother’s manicured finger up and down the plastic board, you locate a line that reads “Stewart Newman, Ph.D.—Room 304A.” “Bingo!” you softly say to yourself as you head off into the elevator bound for the third floor. After a couple minutes, you hear the pleasant tone of the elevator, the doors open, and you step off. You walk down the hall and to a waiting room where you see a receptionist sitting at a desk.

You walk silently up to the desks where a woman sits typing away at a computer. She’s a pretty young blonde of about 25 with pearly white teeth and a pleasant face. She looks up at you and smiles. “Hi there! What can I do for ya?” she asks in a perky, southern accent. “I’m Martha Jenson here to see Dr. Newman…I don’t have an appointment,” you reply quietly. “All righty then mam,” she says charmingly, “it’ll be a little bit, but you’re free to just head over there and take a seat, and I’ll come gecha when he’s ready.” “Thank you,” you answer, and you walk quietly over to the waiting area and take a seat. The extra weight in your chest, and hips makes sitting almost as odd as walking. Looking around at the other women sitting with you, you notice more than a few of them have bulging bellies. “They’re pregnant!” you think to yourself. You glance down on the table next to you and pick up a pamphlet of the various people with offices in the complex. Flipping through said pamphlet with your mother’s dainty fingers, you find that Dr. Newman is a therapist who specializes in family planning. It reads, “Dr. Newman is a renowned specialist in field of female psychology. He helps women deal with psychological issues related to planning families, giving birth, and caring for new-born and young children. Having and caring for a family is a pivotal and stressful decision, and Stewart Newman’s here to help!” “Well that explains all the preggos,” you think to yourself.

Figuring you should probably go compose yourself for your appointment, you stand and step out into the hallway to look for a restroom. You walk a couple minutes. “Come oooonnnn where the hell is it?” you ask, stricken by the strangeness of your mother saying such a thing. You come to a room on your right and move to go on in, but you stop when you see a sign on the door. It reads: “Private. Senior Authorized Personnel and Clients Only.” “Hmmmmmm,” you say, scratching your head in confusion a bit surprised by your current body’s long dark hair. You continue walking and find a restroom, remembering to enter the ladies’ room to avoid embarrassment. You walk into the room, hearing your uncomfortable heels click on the linoleum floor. You reach the mirror and are still amazed at what you see. Your beautiful, 45-year old mother stares back at you with the same look of nervousness and uneasiness you’re now feeling. You turn the water on and splash some on to your face, contorting it into a couple strange shapes just to make sure it’s all real. You turn to the side and look at your profile—the giant mounds protruding from your chest and a nice cushy ass protruding from your backside. You run your mother’s manicured fingers up and down your blouse to smooth it out. “Ready for my close-up!” you declare with a slight smile at your own reflection.

1) You return to the waiting room and your appointment begins promptly.

2) Another woman enters the restroom.