This story is definitely NOT to be taken seriously - - it's just a silly bit of fun I wanted to get out of my head. As it's the first time I've tried writing in the Humor/Satire category I hope you'll be gentle with me as far as comments or votes go.
The first part is based on an idea from a friend - - if you like it, thank him, if you don't, blame me.
As always, everyone is 18 or over.
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Dr Freeland sat looking at his patient, Emily Wilson who had just told him that the breast implants she had - - the ones he had put inside her - - were haunted by their previous owner, a pornstar called Terri-Ann Titties who was gaining control over Emily's actions from beyond the grave. Every time Emily heard someone say the word "tits", Terri-Ann would force her to have sex in the hopes of gaining even more control over her with the ultimate aim of turning Emily into a pornstar so that through her, Terri-Ann could track down the person who killed her.
Needless to say, this was not his usual post-operation consultation.
"Will you help me, doctor?" Emily said. "Before it's too late?"
"Emily, I'm sure you're just gaining more confidence since your operation," Dr Freeland said. "You've become more sexual and willing to experiment, that's all."
Emily shook her head. "No, that's not it, doctor. Every time I hear that word - - "
"You mean ti - - "
"Don't say it!" Emily said, clapping her hands over her ears. Her arms made her huge tits bulge out the neckline of her dress.
"Sorry, sorry," Dr Freeland said quickly. "But you have to see how crazy this is - - a dead pornstar's implants affecting your behaviour? It's just your mind trying to rationalise your behaviour, that's all."
Emily was shaking her head as he spoke, however. "No, doctor, nothing like that would explain what happened in the basement of my house not long after the incident with the workmen."
Dr Freeland shifted in his chair, surreptitiously adjusting his hard-on without her noticing. "What - - errr - - what happened?"
Emily looked both worried and embarrassed. "Everything I tell you is confidential, correct?" The doctor nodded. "Well, a couple of days later - - "
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Despite the craziness of my life, I was still a normal housewife in many ways and with my husband at work day in, day out, it fell to me to keep the house clean. With two teenage sons running around the place, there was a lot of cleaning and laundry to do, as you can imagine.
One morning, I was suddenly overcome with a desire to clean the basement where our boys had their gym equipment, I raided my closet for some old clothes that I keep just for cleaning, pulling out some old jeans and a T-shirt. Before I put them on, though, I grabbed a pair of scissors and started cutting them without really knowing what I was doing or why - - it was like someone else was guiding my hands. After I'd finished, I put them on and looked at my reflection in the closet mirror - - the jeans were now the shortest pair of cut off shorts I'd ever seen, barely more than a strip of denim around my waist, a zip fly and the merest crotch, leaving my ass almost completely exposed. The T-shirt was much the same - - the sleeves had gone and the hem had been cut so that it finished just below my boobs. The neck had been cut away so that the slopes of my boobs were visible, along with my deep cleavage.
"I can't walk around like this," I said aloud.
You look fine,
Terri-Ann's voice whispered in the back of my head.
Now go clean the basement.
That gave me a pause - - I'd never heard her voice without someone triggering an episode, but now here she was, telling me to do things. Still, the basement
did
need cleaning so I grabbed a pair of shoes - - the highest heels I had, for some reason - - and headed downstairs, boobs jiggling with each step, ass wiggling in those ridiculous shorty short shorts. I tottered into the kitchen and picked up a duster and some polish then made my way to the basement.
Imagine my surprise when not one but both my sons were there, working out, both of them in T-shirt and shorts, their muscular arms glistening with the sweat of their exertions. Both of them are handsome young men and had been teaching me how to use the gym since my operation.
"Oh, sorry boys, I didn't know you were here," I said.
"That's okay, mom," Mark said before falling silent as he looked up at me.
Adam turned and I swear I heard his jaw drop when he saw his mother dressed as I was.
"Are you - - are you here for - - a lesson?" Mark asked.
"No, I've just come to clean up," I said, tottering into the middle of the room and looking around at the mess of towels, sweat bands, T-shirts and sneakers that were laying around the place. "You boys carry on and ignore me."
I turned around and bent over, giving them a perfect shot of my ass, the tiny denim thong slipping between my cheeks as I picked up the clothes at my feet.
"Holy shit," I heard Adam whisper. I could practically feel his eyes on me and part of me wondered what the hell I was doing, wandering around in front of my sons dressed like a slut. I should stop this right now, go upstairs, get changed and pretend it never happened. But then I turned around, still bent over, my boobs stretching the neckline of the T-shirt to capacity.
"Damn, mom, your new tits look great," Mark said.
Yes!
Terri-Ann's voice said in my head, a lot louder than in my bedroom.
Why don't you show them your tits?
From somewhere inside myself, I found the strength to turn around and straighten up, facing away from them.
"No," I whispered, "They're my sons."
They're men with cocks,
Terri-Ann said,
And I want them!
"Don't speak to me like that, Mark," I said over my shoulder, walking over to the clothes hamper and dropping in the couple of T-shirts I'd picked up.
"Sorry, mom," he said, "it's just that outfit - - it kinda - - shows you off a little."
"Well, a lot, really," Adam said.
I turned around and looked at them, hands on my hips. "Just because I dress to show off my new body doesn't mean you can treat me with disrespect. I'm still your mother."
"Yeah, a real MILF," Mark said with a grin.
"I don't know what that means," I said, staring at them angrily. "Explain it."
"It means you're a mother I'd like - - " Mark began.
"Like as a friend," Adam interrupted quickly.
"Good," I said. "Now carry on with your workout and I'll finish cleaning this place."
As I once again bent over and started cleaning up, I saw Adam hit Mark on the arm.
You know that isn't what MILF stands for, don't you?
Terri-Ann said in my head and I could almost feel her smiling.