Trading Spaces

"FOR GOD'S SAKE," she gasped. "IT CAN'T BE. NO, NO, THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING."

Her breasts were gone. And in their place was a man's well-developed, hairy chest. There were no big, beautiful tits. No big, beautiful breasts that she had been so proud of. Why her hairy chest looked more like Norris' chest that it did hers.

Then she saw something that took her breath away.

"OHMYGOD," she groaned, lifting the sheet higher so she could see better. "OHMYGOD!"

There, lying on her belly was a man's penis. SHE HAD A PENIS! SHE HAD A COCK!

Yes, there was definitely a big, fat penis growing out of her groin.

Obviously she didn't have a vagina any more, she deliriously thought as she studied the oversized cock lying on her belly. It was one of the biggest, fattest cocks she'd ever seen. It was seven or eight inches long and it wasn't even hard. Throwing the sheet off in horror, she jumped out of bed and ran over to the floor-length mirror standing by her dresser. As she did, she could feel the enormous prick hanging down slapping against her muscular thighs and flopping about wildly.

Her mouth dropped open and her eyes nearly popped out of her head as she gawked at the figure in the mirror staring back at her.

IT WAS NORRIS!

Norris was in the mirror, his mouth open and a shocked look on his face. But how, how had he gotten into her room without her knowing, she dizzily wondered? What the fuck was happening?

Running her eyes up and down his body, she saw that the eyes in the mirror copied her every move.

Then she realized that it wasn't Norris. It was her. Somehow, crazily, she had ended up in her son's body. Somehow, she was him. Or he was her. No, she thought, I'm me. Aren't I? It was her that was staring back at herself, but it was him, or it was his face and body. Trembling in shock and confusion, she didn't know what to do.

Un-fucking-believable, she thought to herself as she ran her eyes up and down his, or was it her body.

Trying to grasp the fact that she had somehow become trapped inside her son's body, she found herself staring at his, or was it her, no, not her, his gigantic cock. Jesus Christ, he's fucking huge, she told herself. No, I'm huge?

This can't really be happening, she told herself as a maniacal laugh bubbled across her, or was it his, no her lips.

Wanting to prove that it was all a big mistake and this really wasn't happening, she slowly ran her hand down to the monster dangling down between her hairy thighs. Poking it with her finger, she watched it jiggle and bump up against her muscular thighs. Slowly, fearfully, she curled her fingers around the giant penis and lifted it up out from between her hairy legs. Squeezing her fisted hand around it, she began to slowly stroke it. As she did, she felt it twitch as hot trickle of excitement shot up it and tickled up her spine.

Oh, goodness. Now what?

Scared to death of what was happening, she couldn't stop herself from examining the huge, thick penis. Holding it in one hand, she slowly ran her finger down the fat shaft, tracing one of the many bulging blue veins that crisscrossed the enormous cock. And as she did, she felt a strange, unfamiliar sensation deep inside the thick, round pillar of meat. It was like nothing she had ever felt before and suddenly it dawned on her. His, or was it her, her cock was starting to get hard.

Damn it, I'm getting an erection, she told herself, watching on in stunned disbelief as his, or was it her cock slowly grew harder.

She didn't move as the big cock steadily grew harder and longer. This is so, fucking bizarre, she told herself as the grotesque monster continued to swell and grow.

You shouldn't be doing this, she silently said to herself as she watched on, hypnotized by the macabre thing in her hand. But she wasn't doing anything, she cried. She was just holding it in her hand. It was doing it on its own. She had no control over the evil thing.

What the hell am I doing, she asked the part of her that was complaining? I'm just standing here holding my, uh, yeah, uh, MY penis in my hand. I'm not doing anything. It's the one that's doing it. And besides, why not, it's mine, isn't it? I can do anything I want with it. Can't I?

It was just too much, she thought as she felt the weird sensation of blood rushing into his, or her cock! Fuck, I'm getting a hard on. Jesus Christ, this can't be happening. It's too crazy.

This has to be some hormone-induced dream or hallucination or something. I'll wake up any second now.

She waited. She waited for it to stop. To stop and put an end to the madness.

But it didn't. And her cock just kept getting harder and harder.

Sickly, she wondered what it would feel like to jack it off.

As she considered the depravity, she found herself self-consciously running her hand up and down the growing monstrosity jutting out of the hairy tip of her belly.

And as she gawked down at it in disbelief and horror, it continued to swell and grow until it stuck out hard and fully ripened, evilly bouncing up and down with each beat of her heart.

It was surreal. Strange, sickening thoughts filled her head as she stared at her reflection in the mirror.

It was her son standing there with his gigantic cock jutting eight, or nine, or ten inches straight up in the air. But, yet, it wasn't him. It was her. It was her standing there with a monumental erection, the likes of which she had never seen before. But it wasn't her, it was him, or was it her? She couldn't make up her mind. But she was a woman. And women didn't have penises. And if she couldn't have a penis, how could she have an erection? Oh, it was just too maddening.

How or what had happened? Had she gone insane as she slept? Had she finally flipped over the edge? Probably the lack of sex, she dizzily thought. That was it. She hadn't had a man since George had left her three years ago. Yeah, that must be it. She was just so God damned horny, she was imagining all of this. It couldn't really be happening. But why had she chosen Norris to turn into? That was sick. Crazy sick, she fussed.

But something was happening. Something was happening to her to make her think like this. And if it was just the dearth of sex that was causing it, why, why was it Norris that her sick, evil mind had chosen to mimic? Why hadn't it been Tom Cruise or Brad Pitts, or some other hunk? Why Norris? Norris, her son? Maybe she was sicker than she thought.

Then, like a bolt of lightning, it came to her. If it was happening to her, was the same thing happening to him?

OH NO! Looking down at her, his body, she realized that everything, yes everything was displayed in its original packaging. She was seeing his body. Not some facsimile of it. This is the real thing, she told herself squeezing the giant cock. Yes, it was definitely the real thing, she deliriously told herself as she flicked her hand up and down the throbbing, pulsating horror growing out of her belly. Everything was just sticking out there in the open for her to see. And if that were the case, would it be the same for him? When he looked in the mirror, would he see her? See her naked, just like she was seeing him naked? She was mortified.

He would see her naked! That realization sent a blush spreading out across her stubbled cheeks.

Her head was spinning as she contemplated this weird, new facet of her predicament. And if that were the case, then he could do anything he wanted to, to her body, too. It would be his to do with as he saw fit. Just like me and what I'm doing to his body. His cock—no MY cock!

How grotesque. Someone else was living in her body. And not just someone. It was her own son. Her own son now possessed her body. He could abuse it any way he wanted. Why, why he could even get her, uh, himself, uh, whoever pregnant. Yeah, he could get her, him, uh, them PREGNANT, if he wasn't careful! The thought was terrifying.

What could she do? His, uh, her cock was still sticking out, hard and ready. Then another sick, loathsome thought struck her. She, she, uh, he, no she, she could actually fuck herself. Or at least fuck herself in her mind. In his body she could fuck her body, but her body would have his mind so would that really be fucking herself? It was a baffling enigma.

This was all just too demented. Too outrageous to even consider. How had she ventured down such a confusing, disgustingly-sick train of thought anyway, she tongue-lashed herself? The whole thing was absurd. None of that could ever happen because this was all just a dream anyway. A sick, twisted, cruel nightmare of a dream and it would be over soon. Won't it, she hopefully wondered?

But when would it end? She was ready for it to end right now. Now. This very second. Now! NOW, she demanded. END IT NOW!

But nothing happened. She was still standing there staring at herself imprisoned in her son's body.

But what if it was really happening? How could it be? That was ridiculous. Nothing like this could ever happen. Could it?

Just then, she heard a timid tap-tap-tap on her door.

"Mom, uh, Mom, are you in there?" she heard her own voice warily ask through the door.

Oh, God, her reeling brain screamed.

"Uh, Yes," she answered, surprised by her own deep, baritone voice. "Yes, I'm in here."

"Uh, is everything all right?" he wanted to know. "Do you feel okay?"

Oh, No, she thought, it can't be. But it was. It must really be happening. She was terrified—

Why else would he be here wanting to know if she was all right and speaking with her voice?

She suddenly felt sick to her stomach.

"Uh, no, no, everything is not all right," she told him, frightened by the deep masculine voice that came out of her mouth.

Quickly stepping over to the door so she wouldn't have to talk so loud, she felt fear gnawing at her guts.

"Uh, uh, what's wrong?" the feminine voice asked through the door.

She was afraid now. Afraid of what was going on. Afraid that there was nothing that she could do to stop whatever it was that was happening to them. She had never felt so helpless and alone in her whole life. Standing by the door, she didn't know what to do or to say to her son. What could she say? Tell him the truth? What was the truth? Or maybe wait a while and see if they would change back to themselves? Hell, it didn't look like anything was going to change back to normal, at least not anytime soon, she frowned, glancing down at her, uh, his watch and seeing that it was ten o'clock. Thirty minutes had already passed and the only thing she had accomplished was getting an erection.

Oh, no, no, her mind reeled as she shot a look down at her, uh, his, the cock. Thank goodness, she sighed, seeing fear had taken care of her erection. At least she wouldn't have to face Norris with a hard on, she thought. Even though he had probably seen it a million times, her mind thought flashing off onto another tangent. He was probably even proud of it. And he had every right to be. It was a COCK among cocks.

Sick, she told herself, you're a sick, evil woman. Get your mind out of the fucking gutter and concentrate on your immediate problem. What are you going to do?

Well. We might as well face it together. At least, they say, there is strength in numbers. But, on the other hand, two wasn't a very big number, she sadly thought.

"Uh, I'm, I'm afraid, afraid, that I somehow, somehow ended up in, uh, in y-you-your body," she stuttered out, leaning against the door.

"Me, too," he grunted immediately. "Uh, I mean, I'm in your body—"

It was so strange listening to her voice coming from the other side of the door and his voice coming from her mouth. It made her want to kick something. It made her want to hurt whoever or whatever fiendish evil that was doing this to them. Hurt them and make them pay for this sick, twisted joke.

"Uh, uh, what are we, uh, we going to do?" her voice wanted to know.

"I don't know. I just don't know," she said, exasperated by her own impotence. "I don't know what we can do. Do you?

"Uh, no," he muttered. "But can I come in so we don't have to talk through the door?"

"Huh, oh," she mumbled, looking down at her son's naked body. "Let me put something on, first."

"Okay," he answered.

Walking over to her closet, his limp penis flapping around idiotically, she threw open the door and reached for her gown that was hanging on the back of the door.

Well, this is ridiculous, too. Why am I putting on clothes? It's his fucking body. Why am I trying to hide his body from him? He's seen it a trillion times. Oh, this is just so fucking crazy. Like it was okay for him to be naked, because it was her body she would see when she looked at him. And it was okay for her to be naked because he would just be seeing his own body. They only reason they had to wear clothes was to keep from seeing each other. But now that was no longer the case...

Oh, shit, this is just too crazy. I'm going insane just trying to sort everything out.

To hell with it, she groaned to herself grabbing her robe and throwing it on. Wrapping it around her, she tied the belt tightly around his, or her waist as she walked back to the door.

Taking a deep breath, she reached down and jerked the door open. Even though she thought she was prepared for what she would see, she had to grab hold of the doorframe to steady herself as her knees threatened to collapse.

Standing there gawking at herself, she felt like she was going to pass out.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Norris cursed as he stood gawking at her. "I can't believe it. You're me!"

"This is crazy," she groaned, staring into her own eyes.

To say that it was a little bit disconcerting to find yourself looking at yourself would have been the understatement of the millennium. How could you concentrate on what you were talking about when you were talking to yourself? Literally! It made her light-headed just thinking about it.

Apparently Norris had thought the same thing she had because he was just wearing his bath robe, but it didn't do a very good job of disguising the massive swell of her, no, his breasts. Staring into her face, she saw that he, she didn't have any make up on. But, of course, he wouldn't, he didn't know what or how to put it on. But, she thought to herself, he, uh, I don't look so bad without make up. Maybe I should try it more often.

IF I EVER GET BACK INTO THE RIGHT FUCKING BODY—she raged—

"Mom?" he asked, looking at her as if she were a stranger.

"Yes," she answered him in his own deep, resonating voice.

"God, this is so weird," he grunted, "calling myself, Mom."

"I know what you mean," she muttered, "and hearing your voice come out of my mouth is damned upsetting."

"What are we going to do?" he wanted to know.

"I don't know. What can we do?"

"I don't know, either," he said, standing there nervously fidgeting.

Finally, a twisted little smile began to tug at the corners of his mouth.

"I guess we just have to make the best of it."

"What do you mean by that?" she asked him. "How can anything good come out of this?"

"Well, uh, not to sound lewd or disrespectful or anything," he blushed, "but, it's kinda cool being in your body."

"WHAT? What do you ever mean that it is cool to be in my body?" she wanted to know, flabbergasted by his sudden statement.

"Uh, you know, uh, it's neat, uh, cool, having a, a pair of big, beautiful tits like yours, uh, mine to play with," he giggled crazily.

"Norris, stop talking like that. How could you say such a thing about my breasts?" she gasped. "They-they're, they're my breasts. How could you do such a thing to them?

"Uh, not, not now, Mom, they're not yours," he said, blushing brighter. "They're mine now."

"Oh, you know what I mean. This is disgusting," she complained. "I feel like I've been raped."

"Uh, I'm sorry, Mom," he told her. "I didn't make any of this happen. I just woke up this way."

"But you don't have to make fun of my body," she whined.

"I'm not making fun of your body," he said in a more serious voice. "In fact, I think you, uh, I, oh, whoever, has a beautiful body."

"Really? You don't think it's too old and frumpy?"

"God, no," he exclaimed, reaching down and untying the belt that held his bath robe wrapped around her, his body. "Look at it. It's beautiful."

Daphne watched on with mixed feelings as the robe parted and then slipped down off his shoulders and fell to the floor.

Norris stood there, in her body, as naked as the day she had been born.

"What are you doing?" she asked him as he reached up and cupped his big, soft breasts.

"I always wondered what it felt like to have your nipples teased," he said.

"Norris, don't do that," she cautioned him.

Just then Daphne caught the faint aroma of liquor on Norris' breath.

"Have you been drinking?" she wanted to know.

"Yeah, I had a couple of drinks when I woke up and found out I didn't have a penis anymore. Wouldn't you?"

She didn't know what to say to that. It must have been shocking to wake up and find out that the center of your universe had been stolen while you slept. She couldn't think straight anymore. Everything was just turned upside down. Inside out. Nothing was sane and normal anymore.

In fact, maybe a drink would make her feel better, too.

"I don't suppose that you would have anything left to drink down in your room?" she asked him, standing in front of him with her hands on his, uh, her hips.

"You won't get mad?" she smiled back at herself, slowly turning and walking back toward his room. Deciding to follow him, she walked along behind herself admiring the sexy way her tight, little ass twitched from side to as she walked. Not bad for a forty-year-old bod, she proudly told herself. If only it were her body—

Pulling his secret bottle of Jack Daniels out of its drawer, he handed it to her.

"You have a glass?" she asked him as she took the bottle from him.

"Naw, I just drink it out of the bottle," he grinned.

"Oh, well—" she sighed, lifting the bottle up to her lips and taking a long swig on it. Coughing, Daphne wiped the back of her hairy hand across her lips to wipe away any liquor that might have escaped. Then when she caught her breath, she took another long swallow on the bottle before handing it back to Norris.

"Thanks," she muttered, looking around his room.

"How does it make you feel to have one now?" he tipsily asked her taking another drink before he twisted the cap back on the bottle and set in on the top of his chest of drawers.

"Have one what?" she asked him.

"You know, a, a penis," he smirked. "How does it feel to have a penis?"

"Norris, watch what you say. I am still your mother, no matter what and I won't have you trying to embarrass me?" she growled.

She knew that she should be mortified, but somehow with the booze, the bizarre body switch, everything seemed surreal.

But what was normal and real in their new world? Her son was in his bedroom, in her body, naked and asking her how she liked her new cock. Could it get any more bizarre?

But even stranger, it somehow didn't seem to matter that he was naked. Well, what difference could it make? He wasn't the one that was really naked. It was her. What would be wrong was for her to see the body she was trapped in. For her to see his body, which sickly was now her body.

Her head was spinning from the tangle of thoughts twirling through it.

"Well?"

"Well, what," she asked, reaching for the bottle of Jack Daniels again and downing a third shot of booze.

"How does it feel?"

Glaring over at him, she watched her big breasts heave as he sat down on his bed. Glancing down, she saw that he was sitting on with his legs spread apart with her, uh, his shaved pussy obscenely displayed between them.

"Uh, you shouldn't sit like that," she told him. "I can, uh, I can see, see your, uh, your parts."