Mad Monday

Mad Monday

by Pan

Note: All characters depicted in sexual situations are over 18.

Chapter 1

I woke up to find my teenage daughter perched on the edge of my bed, an unusual look on her face.

"Andrew," she said solemnly, "we have to talk."

I tried to simultaneously yawn and shoot her a stern glance - not an easy move at the best of times, but particularly difficult when you're just waking up.

"Belle, you shouldn't call me that."

For the last few years, my daughter's behavior has been spiraling, and so I tried to sound as authoritative as I could.

"Andrew," she said again, "it's me.

"It's Mary."

I froze. What game was Belle playing at?

"Belle, it's too early for this. Go and get ready for school."

"Andrew, I'm serious. It's me - your wife, Mary."

I mentally scanned through all of the children behavioral books I'd been reading lately...there had definitely been no mention of what to do when your rebellious teenage daughter pretends to be your wife, so I really wasn't sure how to proceed.

"Belle, I don't know what you're playing at, but we don't have time for this. Go and see if your brother's awake."

"Ben's awake, honey. I checked on him before I came in here. And it turns out he listens to what his sister says far more than his mother, which I suppose shouldn't surprise me."

I paused, lost for words. Obviously my daughter was lying to me, but at the same time...there was something odd about the cadence of her speech. She really did sound like my wife.

"Now look, I understand that you have no reason to believe me, but it really is me. Ask me any question that I'd know and our daughter wouldn't."

Should I play along with Belle's strange game? Obviously what she was saying was impossible, but...I couldn't resist.

"Okay," I said slowly. "What...what color were the roses at our wedding?"

"Red," Belle answered immediately, rolling her eyes. "Honey, I love you, but you're really not very good at this. First of all, there's photos of them all over the house, and secondly...they were red. Wouldn't be hard to guess that one. No, ask something truly personal. Ask something about our sex life."

"Belle! I am not talking to you about...about that. Now go back...-"

"I'm not Belle," my daughter repeated, her voice getting slightly higher in her frustration. "Oh dear, I really should have thought this through a little better. Okay, let me...your first kiss was with a girl named Kirsty, our first date was to see Strange Days, which neither of us liked but pretended to because we were nervous, we didn't have sex until our fourth date, but I went down on you on date number two."

"Belle! I don't know what you and your mother have been...-"

"Really? Okay, here are some things that you *know* I would never tell our daughter...I own two bullet vibrators, and you like using them on me after we've had sex. You like the way a little bit of your cum squirts out of me every time I twitch. I get soaking wet when you dig your fingers into my back, and sometimes I'll go out and buy the cheapest underwear I can find, because we both love it when you tear it off me."

My mouth fell open as I stared at my daughter.

"...Mary?"

"Yes! Yes, honey, it's me. Fifteen years ago I lost our daughter in a mall, ten years ago you accidentally stole a thousand dollars from work and then lied about it because you were afraid people would think it was deliberate, and we're both worried sick that our daughter's misbehavior is our fault. Do you need anything else?"

"Oh my god, Mary. How...how did you..."

"It's a woman thing, honey. You wouldn't understand. Nothing else was working, and so I thought it was time for drastic measures. That's why I slept in the study last night - I didn't want Belle waking up in my body and waking you up when she freaked out."

"So...so..."

"Yes, our daughter is in my body and I'm in hers. I think that this will really teach her a bit more about responsibility, and help her understand things from our perspective. It's only going to be for two weeks...-"

"Two weeks!?"

"Yes, two weeks. I'm sure that we'll be able to get through whatever she does in my body in that time - she might be going through a rough patch right now, but she really does love us. I know it. She won't do anything to permanently destroy my life...our life...and when we switch back, she'll be all the better for it."

"So does...does she know..."

"That I'm in her body? No, and I want to keep it that way. Whenever she's around, I have to act exactly like her - I've been studying up over the last month."

With that, my daughter...well, my wife in my daughter's body, at least...slouched, and shot me a glare.

"Sup?" she snarled, and I couldn't hold back a huge grin.

"Perfect."

My wife's smile appeared on my daughter's face - a strange sight to behold.

"Isn't it just? I'm no actor, but I'm very pleased with my efforts so far. Anyway, I just came in here to let you know - you have to act normal around her. Around me. Around our daughter in my old body. Do you understand me?"

I nodded.

"Good. Now, she finishes school a few hours before I finish work...except, of course, the other way around now. That will give us time to check in every day. Until then, it's vitally important that you act as if nothing is odd. Talk to her like you do me - tell her how worried you are about Belle, how much we love her, and how we wish there was something that could be done.

"She's probably going to suggest that we could never understand, that we don't listen, all that jazz. Nod along, pretend that she's presenting really good points, ask her advice - anything to make her think that you don't know what's happening. Meanwhile, I'm going to continue being the terror that our daughter has always been. Any questions?"

I shook my head.

"Crystal clear."

"Excellent. Like I said, we'll check in every day. And, uh..."

My daughter's brow crinkled slightly.

"Don't, um..."

"What?"

"Don't kiss her goodnight."

"Oh!"

I paused, my eyes widening slightly.

"I hadn't even thought of that."

"No, until this moment, me neither. In fact, maybe you should suggest that she keeps sleeping in the study. Make up any excuse - I'm sure she'll be so happy to grasp it, she won't even question it. It'll just..."

"Yes, yes."

"Excellent."

My daughter's lips spread so wide, they almost touched her ears.

"Honey, I really think this is going to work."

"I sure hope so," I muttered, but my wife's smile was contagious, and soon I was beaming back at her.

"I sure hope so," I repeated, much more confidently this time.

Chapter 2

"Hi Dad...ling. Darling. Hi darling."

I don't think my daughter was aware that I knew exactly how low her opinion of me was, and so it was fairly easy to play into that image. I frowned at my iPad as I continued to pretend to read the daily news, and waited for her to try again.

"Good morning darling!"

"Oh, hello honey," I said, looking up and overplaying my absent-mindedness. Yes, I can get lost in my own thoughts at times, and yes, I know it drives my daughter crazy.

For once, it was something I could use to my advantage. It'd give me a chance to let Belle grow comfortable with her role as her own mother; I could pretend not to notice anything unusual about her behavior.

"Oh honey," I said without looking up. "That leak still isn't fixed - you might have to sleep in the study for a few more nights. Is that going to be a problem?"

"No!"

I couldn't resist - at the sound of excitement, I looked up, peering over my glasses with an amused smile on my face.

"Oh?"

"I mean, uh...I'm going to miss you, sweetums."

"You too, pork chop."

I pretended not to notice the look of disgust on my daughter's face as I turned back to the newspaper app. 'Pork chop' may have been pushing it...but in all fairness, Mary and I had never, ever called each other "sweetums".

###

That afternoon, I was neck-deep in work when Belle came home. Belle's body, anyway.

"Hi honey!"

"Hey sweetums," I replied, and laughed as my wife rolled my daughter's eyes.

"Do you think Ben noticed anything wrong?"

"I'd be surprised. The new Pokemon game is out tomorrow, and I literally don't think he cares about *anything* else right now."

"Awesome."

I cocked an eyebrow at that, and my daughter stuck her tongue out at me.

"Trying to get the hang of the parlance."

"Tip number one - I don't think teens these days say 'parlance'. How was school?"

"Ugh."

I couldn't help but laugh. I think that was my wife's genuine reaction, but it so perfectly mirrored my daughter's natural response to the question, I momentarily forgot the strange situation we'd gotten ourselves into.

For the next half-hour we chatted about Belle's social circles, her grades, her status at school. I wasn't able to offer much in the way of useful plans, but I've always been a good listener, and I could tell my wife felt much better once she'd vented about the problems in our daughter's life, and started constructing the first steps of a plan.

"Of course, none of it will work if Belle can't use what I've made for her and take advantage of her improved circumstances."

"Of course."

"Anyway, I have...well, I have something strange to tell you."

"Stranger than what we're doing now?"

My wife laughed - again, it was so strange, hearing those familiar peals of laughter coming out of my daughter's mouth. They were younger, higher-pitched. You don't think of someone's laughter changing over the years, but it reminded me of how she'd laughed when we'd first met.

"I guess not. Did you know that our daughter has a boyfriend?"

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and I sat straight in my seat.

"Oh?" I said, and even I could hear the sense of danger in my voice.

"Yes, and I think he might be part of the reason we've seen such drastic changes in our daughter lately."

"What's his name?"

"Spike."

I snorted.

"I know. But I think he might be trouble."

"So break up with him."

"Right. Yes. Obviously."

Belle's eyes looked away, refusing to meet my gaze.

"What? What is it?"

She bit her lip.

"Spit it out, honey."

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"I'm talking to my wife of two decades who's currently residing in my teenage daughter's body. I think things are as uncomfortable as they're going to get."

"Well...you promise this won't be weird?"

"I promise it can't get much weirder."

"Okay."

My daughter took a deep breath, and looked me in the eyes.

"I wasn't expecting the hormones."

I paused I processed what she was saying.

"What?"

"I mean...it's been so long, honey. Do you remember what it was like being a teenager?"

My eyes widened.

"Oh!"

"Yeah."

We sat there in an uncomfortable silence for a few seconds. Clearly, I'd been wrong - there was room for things to get much, much weirder.

Despite it being more than twenty years ago, I distinctly remembered my teenage years. I must have spent more time masturbating than eating, and I had been a big eater.

"Spike is...well, he's hot."

"Honey, he's a teenager!"

"I know! Do you think I don't know that? But I'm in...here."

My wife gestured to our daughter's body.

"And as long as I'm in here, I can't look at him without wondering what he looks like naked. I have spent more time today imagining teenage cocks than I ever have - I didn't even think about that kind of stuff when I was a teenager!"

I'd been my wife's first - Mary was raised in a religious household, and she'd once told me that she hadn't started masturbating until we'd been married for four years.

She'd assured me that was a compliment.

"So..."

My daughter sighed, as if the weight of the world was on her teenage shoulders. It would have been funny, if I wasn't aware of the context.

"I'll break up with Spike. Of course I'll break up with Spike; it's the obviously correct thing to do. I just..."

Again, that comically out-of-place sigh.

"I just hadn't realized that Belle's hormones were so...powerful."

I nodded. We'd gone right past uncomfortable, and I had nothing useful to offer.

We sat there in silence for a few more seconds, until I noticed the pink on Belle's face.

"Honey?"

"Hmm?"

"You're blushing."

"Oh! Oh, I was just thinking..."

I gulped. By the way that my daughter's eyes were again darting around the room, I wasn't sure if I wanted to know what was about to follow.

"God, please don't be weird about this."

"I'll try not to," I said gently.

"I just...I'm going to go and grab those two bullets from my dressing-table, okay?"

My eyes widened, and I nodded slowly, trying desperately not to think about what that meant.

Chapter 3

For the rest of the night, I continued to act as if everything was normal. I was trying desperately not to think about what Mary had told me about Belle's...hormones...but it was a difficult concept to get out of my head.

Eventually, instead of trying to block it out entirely, I started trying to think about the positives. Now that our daughter was in her mother's body, perhaps that would help her calm down - my wife and I have a healthy sex-life, but she has her desires well and truly under control. Hopefully that would help Belle establish a bit more control over herself.

Belle had clearly tried to imitate her mother's makeup that morning, but she'd gone a bit overboard. A part of me wondered if anyone at her office had noticed - Mary works in customer relations, so (without being disrespectful to my wife's work) I was sure that Belle could bluff her way through her mother's job for a few weeks; it didn't require any particular technical knowledge, and our daughter has a good head on her shoulders.

And a body filled with hormones, it turned out.

After "the kids" had gone to bed, Belle and I chatted for a while - she asked a lot of questions about her own job, and I answered them as if nothing was odd about her asking if I knew where she kept her phone codes. I didn't bring up our daughter's truancy or rebellion problems: we had two weeks, and I wanted to be subtle.

We went to our separate rooms, and after an hour of laying awake and staring at the ceiling, I eventually drifted into a dreamless sleep.

###

I was awoken the next morning by my PJ-clad daughter, laying beneath the covers with me, smiling.

"Good morning, honey."

"Belle! I mean...Mary! What're you doing? You know I sleep naked."

"It didn't seem to bother you yesterday."

"Yes, but you were...out there. You weren't...in here, with me."

"Oh come on, Andrew. It's not like it isn't anything I haven't seen before."

"Yes," I hissed, "but that's...not...not while you've been..."

"Fine," she said with a roll of her eyes. "I just..."

She trailed off, and that slight blush returned.

"What?"

"Jesus, I have no idea how teenagers do it. I feel like my every thought is spelled out on my forehead."

"For the love of god, Mary, what do you want? What if someone comes in?"

That young laugh again, familiar but different.

"I can assure you, there's no chance our teenage daughter is going to come in and risk seeing her father's phallus. And there's even **less** chance that Ben is going to care about anything for the next few weeks that can't be caught in a pokéball."

"So what do you want?"

"I just..."

Again, she trailed off. In a much softer tone, I prompted her again.

"What?"

"I just wanted a cuddle."

The realization that my wife was lonely made my heart melt, and I reached out.

"Come here, honey."

For the next fifteen minutes we cuddled and chatted, her head on my chest, my arms wrapped lovingly around her. I shut my eyes, tried to ignore the pitch of her voice, and tried to pretend this was just a normal morning conversation with my wife.

###

That afternoon, I was woken up from a mid-afternoon nap by Belle storming through the door.

"What?" I spluttered, sitting up. "What is it?"

My daughter's face was streaked with tears, her cheeks were red, and her eyes were puffy. Forgetting for a moment the unusual situation we'd found ourselves in, I held out my arms.

"Come here, Belle-drop."

She threw herself into my arms and sobbed for a few minutes. I held her comfortingly and my brain continued to wake up, reminding me that I was being used as a tissue by my wife, not my daughter.

"What happened, honey?" I asked softly.

"I did it," came the muffled reply. "I broke up with Spike."

"Oh..."

For a moment, a flicker of worry flew through my brain. I dismissed it instantly, of course - a teenager was no threat to my strong, healthy, twenty-year marriage.

"So...why are you crying?"

"He was so *mean*," my wife bawled into my arms. "He laughed when I tried to break up with him, and then said that he'd been fucking another slut cos I wouldn't put out."

I took a moment. That was a lot of information to process at once.

"Our daughter's a virgin."

"I suppose," Mary sniffled. "I'm impressed, to be honest. I've never felt so turned on - even after I got myself off four times last ni...-"

"La la la la!"

"What?"

"Honey, I *really* don't want to hear about that kind of thing."

"Oh come on," she said, pulling away and looking up at me balefully. "You've never minded hearing about it before."

"Yes, when it was *you* in *your* body. I don't want to hear about my daughter...doing..."

I made a face and trailed off. A half-smile appeared on Belle's face.

"So you would be okay hearing about what our daughter is doing in *my* body."

My eyes widened, and I answered without hesitation.

"*Nope.*"

My wife giggled, something that I don't remember her doing for almost half a decade. I smiled down at her.

"You feeling better?"

"Yeah," she said softly, wiping her nose with her sleeve. "Thanks."

"Anything you need, honey. This is a weird situation, and we're going to get through it together."

"Thanks," she smiled back. "I can't believe our daughter was dating such a jerk. More than that, I can't believe how much his words got to me. I feel so fragile - I'm gonna go have a little nap, okay?"

I didn't say anything as she left. She had been bang on the money earlier, when she'd compared her face to an open book.

My wife wasn't going upstairs for a nap. She was going upstairs to...

I sighed, went back to my office, and tried very hard to think about something else. *Anything* else.

Chapter 4

The next day, as soon as my wife finished school in my daughter's body, she bounded into my office where I was finishing up some contracts.

"Hey honey," I said without looking up. She hadn't come into my room that morning, and I hadn't seen her at breakfast. For a moment, I'd almost forgotten about the swap that my wife had orchestrated and wondered if Belle had returned to her old ways.

There was no response, and I turned to see Belle standing there, her hands twisting together nervously, my wife's eyes peering out at me from my daughter's face.

"What's up?" I asked warily.

"I..."

She stopped abruptly, and threw herself face-down onto the couch. From between the cushions, I heard a muffled "Oh, god..."

"What is it? Honey, what's wrong?"

I sat down on the couch next to my daughter's prone body, and put one arm on her shoulder. She shrugged it off; a move totally foreign to my wife, but one *very* familiar from my daughter.

Had it worn off? Had they swapped back, twelve days early?

What was happening?

"Honey? ...Belle?"

"No," the muffled voice replied. "It's still Mary."

"What the hell's happened?"

She rolled over, and looked up at me with big, sad eyes.