A feuding couple attempt to fix their marriage through wishes, and end up changing each other in more ways than one. Possibly the most wholesome thing I have ever written, even if I do say so myself.
Originally published to DeviantArt on March 3rd 2019. Images by UnravelingAngelXIII, who is seemingly also banned from DeviantArt, were originally here and here. They were very much the inspiration for this story.
"Are you sure you're ready for this?"
"Ready as I'll ever be," I say as she prepares to tap me with the glowing tip of her magic wand.
"Okay, babe. And you're sure this is what you want?" she says, biting her lip.
"I'm fine," I say in typical husband fashion. "No really. Whatever you want, I want it too, and if this makes you happy, then..."
"It does make me happy."
"Then I'll be happy too," I say, in what might be my last words ever spoken as a man.
Just what on earth have I gotten myself in for? I doubt most husbands would consider this, but it's too late to back out now. To be honest, I am kinda looking forward to it. This could be an exciting new experience for both of us, and I'm curious to see in what ways her wish will do to me.
I have already gotten undressed, and I stand there, cold and vulnerable in my boxer briefs, just waiting to become what she wants to change me into.
She gives one final wave of the wand and reaches around to tap me on the shoulder.
I feel a tingle as the magic spreads throughout my body.
"Is it w...o...rking?” I say, answering my own question as my voice shifts into pitches I haven't been able to reach since puberty. "Gosh!"
"See for yourself," she says, picking up the mirror from her dressing table and holding it out in front of me.
Immediately I see my reflection's face change. The fringe of hair grows past my eyes, and the rest of it is long enough already that it's tickling the back of my neck.
I look back at her and notice my change in height. Whereas previously she was an inch shorter than me, I am now just as tall as her, and continuing to shrink.
My attention is soon turned to my chest as my nipples twinge like crazy. The skin behind them swells and begins to turn red, as my face in the mirror turns a similar color.
"Don't worry babe, it's only temporary."
What does she mean? I presume that by that she is referring to the pain.
I look down and already my boxer briefs have turned themselves into panties, which are just now finishing their transformation by turning pink. I grin a little since the thought of wearing ladies' underwear makes me feel a little naughty, and doubly so when a bra materializes on my chest in the same pale pink, enclosing my developing breasts.
I notice now how slim and dainty my chest has become. My breasts have grown to at least a B cup size, and are a snug fit for the bra, confirming to us that I am indeed female.
"Sweet!" I say, posing a little for the mirror.
My hair at this point has stopped growing and has shaped itself into a stylishly cute bob, which I rather like.
My wife now is considerably taller than I am as I find myself shrinking by the second. I can't be much more than 5 feet now and continuing to shrink. God only knows why her wish would do this. Maybe she has a preference for petite women.
My bra feels suddenly very loose on me. It seems my breasts are no longer big enough to fill it. No sooner than they'd reached their final size, they change their mind and sink back into me. This can't be right, I think. But her magic must know what it is doing.
My hips, which were easily the widest part of me until a few seconds ago, also begin to shrink inward at the same time. My legs and torso both lose a bit of their chub. And my hands are absolutely tiny.
"Uh..."
"It's okay, sweetie,"
Something pink appears from thin air and drapes itself over my shoulders, covering up the bra. It appears to be a button-down blouse or pajama top. As if powerless to resist, my arms go through the sleeves. It fits me, maybe even a little too tightly for even my shrinking figure. It looks like could be made for a child.
That is when it occurs to me: she is turning me into a child.
With one tiny hand, I fumble with the collar of the blouse in a half-hearted attempt to remove the garment, but it is clear enough that it's not coming off. The buttons fasten themselves one by one, enclosing my shrinking torso in a veil of pink cotton.
I feel the bra beneath it rapidly reforming as a vest, coating my upper body in another layer of softness.
Her breasts are at my eye level now, and the ground feels very close to me. This is the extent to which I have shrunk. My legs are in proportion with the rest of my body, which is to say they are absolutely tiny.
At that moment, the shrinking stops, so abruptly that I almost fall over. Then a pair of bright pink pajama pants appear from nowhere around my legs, completing the look.
I stare into the mirror once more to see the cherubic face of a little girl staring back at me.
"Cool! I'm a kid!" I say. Her lips move at the same time as mine move to form those same exact words.
She is adorable. I almost want to wrap my arms around her and smother her chubby little cheeks with kisses. That would be rather difficult though, as the owner of that face is me. I am between 6 and 8 years old now and looking like the picture of childlike innocence.
Still blushing, with a cheesy grin on my face, I lift up one hand and enthusiastically wave at myself.
Before I can pull a series of funny faces at the one remaining adult in the room, I look back in the mirror and notice something strange about my hair when she kneels down beside me. It is still in the same cute bobbed style, only now it is a shade or two lighter - practically the same color as hers.
"Wait. Are you my mom now?"
She nods, placing a hand on my shoulder and squeezing me gently.
Looking closely, I can see that there are tears in her eyes.
All those arguments we had about conceiving. I know now how much she wanted kids because she was willing to use her one wish to turn me into one.
"Are you're sure you're okay with this?" she asks
"Yeah!" I say, surprised at how enthusiastic I sound.
My new mom leans over and wraps me in a hug.
"You have no idea how happy that makes me!" she says. "And even though you're not my husband, don't ever think that I'll love you less. Now you're my daughter, I'm going to love you forever and ever!"
The hug we share really does seem to go on forever.
After a while, she pulls herself up to her full height and stands a good two feet taller than me.
She is still wearing her unbuttoned shirt and undies from when we were taking each other's clothes off earlier. In hindsight, it feels embarrassing to think we did that together. I don't even want to think of some of the other stuff we've done.
Her body looks different from the ways I've seen it before. Though it hadn't physically changed, I start to realize this is because I no longer see her as a sexy lady. Why might this be? Could it be because my mind has shifted to make me love her as a mom?
The old me would have had some reservations about that, but I'm just so glad that she did this. The thought of being loved and cared for makes me feel warm inside, and I'm just so happy to love her back. And unlike the way we loved each other before, the love feels unconditional. I don't ever think mom would leave me now.
Oh god, I really am starting to think of her as my mother!
She picks up the magic wand again and points it at herself.
"All right then, now it's your turn," she says. "Make a wish, baby!"
Before we did this, I was trying to think of the things I'd change about her. But those were all things that the old me wanted, the adult who I no longer am. So what should I wish for instead?
Almost immediately a new wish comes to mind. It would be a very big wish for someone to make, but the more I think about it, the more I seem to want it. And I used to really hate being the youngest child when I was younger. But now I know my girlhood does not have to be the same as my boyhood. And if she wants it too, the magic will make it happen.
"I wish..."
She shushes me with a finger and says:
"Wait, don't tell me! I want it to be a surprise."
Without another word, the wand tip begins to glow. Mom taps it twice on her own head and waits for the transformation to begin.
Almost immediately, her shirt disappears. Her breasts begin to shake as they grow an additional cup size.
Her mouth drops open in response.
"You dirty girl!" she says. I look around guiltily.
"That's not what I wished for!" I say as her waist gets wider, and her slim hips grow to monstrous proportions. This wasn't part of the wish... or was it?
Then I realize her having wide hips would make it easy as possible to push it out without hurting, and part of my wish was for it not to hurt too much in the hospital.
"Then what did you..." she begins. But I stay quiet because she did want it to be a surprise.
At that moment, the room goes silent and I feel a mystical presence enter my mom's body. That is when I know that I have got my wish. I think that mom feels it too, and she too is aware what's going on.
Her breasts continue to grow, partly as a means to produce milk, and partly because she is gaining weight all over. But a far more profound change is happening within her stomach.
It expands, slowly at first. But like a balloon being gently inflated, it continues to grow bigger and rounder with each passing second. The skin becomes stretched-out and taut, without a single stretch mark. I gaze in awe at the still-growing belly because I have just witnessed the creation of life. It is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, not to mention that it is happening to the most beautiful woman in the world.
Even with stretch marks, she'd still be beautiful to me. Even if she were a 40-year-old woman with cellulite, I wouldn't love her any less because her being my mom makes her beautiful no matter what.
And going by the expression on her face, I think she knows exactly what I wished for.
A few more changes take place to make her more 'mommyish' in appearance. First, her hair restyles itself with an even fringe at the front, becoming thick and bushy at the back. Her contact lenses disappear in favor of wide round spectacles. She squints and examines herself in the mirror, seeming to accept these changes with grace, even though we know they make her look older.
Her belly looks full to bursting and still, it is continuing to grow bigger.
At the moment when her body is almost as big as it needs to be, a silky white garment weaves itself from thin air and wraps around her belly and upper torso. It appears to be a nightgown with red trim and polka dots on the bust and a cute red bow that sits between her breasts. Very mommyish, I think.
It is way too short for her at first, though it soon grows to cover more of her legs. And as soon as that is done, the transformation stops. My former wife is now my mommy, soon to be a mother of two. She drops the wand and raises a hand to rub her tummy.
"Oh baby, it's everything I could have wanted," she says, smiling serenely.
She is perhaps a few years older than before, though not as much as 40, with the beginnings of cellulite in her thighs, though my feelings about her looks haven't changed one bit.
I begin to wonder to myself why she got older, though I think I might know. I look back to what my adult self said in our last argument as man and wife. He said he didn't think she was mature enough to have kids, and she shouldn't get pregnant until she was a few years older. Guess he finally got what he wanted.
I feel bad for taking some years off her life, though I'm sure we both think it was worth it. The magic wouldn't have worked if we didn't.
Putting my adult self out of mind as my mom takes my hand, I lean in closer. I hear her heartbeat as I lean in to hug her and rest my head upon her chest. I love how soft and cushiony she's become. She holds me tightly, but not too tight, like someone with experience of holding a young child. And if it means I get to hug her every day for the next ten years, I know it will have been worth it.
"I love you, mommy!" I say because no one's said it yet.
"Oh sweetheart, I love you too!" she says, and kisses me on the top of my head. "Thanks for wishing me this way."
"Aw mommy, you're the best!"
A few seconds after she breaks from the hug, her face suddenly lights up again with joy and adoration. I wonder what it is, but she soon tells me.
"Sweetie, I just felt her kicking."
Her. So the baby is going to be a girl then. Just like me.
"Can I feel it?"
She puts her hand on her belly and I put mine next to hers. I don't feel anything, but I just keep holding my hand there, loving the feeling of closeness between us.
"Well, she was doing it until just a moment ago..." she says.
"How do you know it's a girl, mommy?" I ask.
"I think the wish made me know. It's probably changed a few other things. Let's take a look."
Sure enough, we find that the spare room has been decorated as a nursery. The walls are now painted pink, which I think is now my favorite color, even though it wasn't always.
The spare bed is still in the corner, which I presume is going to be my bed from now on.
"It's only temporary," she says. "We'll get you your own room when the baby's born."
"Thanks, mommy," I say, "although I wouldn't mind sharing for now."
Mommy tells me I won't be thinking that way when the baby is crying out for attention in the middle of the night. But I am still keen to help her in any way I can.
Either way, it's getting late, and since we are both already dressed for bed, she and I decide to say goodnight. I almost get into her bed by force of habit, but she assures me I don't want to sleep with her anymore.
In a drawer, she finds one of her own childhood teddy bears, which she gives to me as a gift, plus some soft pink blankets she doesn't remember buying, which I think were created by one of our wishes. Now I'm armed with blankets and a teddy bear, my mommy reads me a story, then tucks me into my own bed. Before leaving the room, she kisses me on the forehead and says:
"Goodnight sweetheart."
"Night night," I say.
I close my eyes, thinking about my next day of school, and when I'll get to tell people about my new baby sister. It isn't long before I pass into deep sleep and sweet dreams.
The wishes become permanent on the stroke of midnight.
Comments
Post a Comment