Chapter 1: The Unlikely Mother
Rowan leaned against the kitchen counter, twirling the reality remote in his hand like a magician with a wand. His best mate, Adam, sat across from him, nursing a pint and looking utterly unimpressed.
‘So, let me get this straight,’ Adam said, his voice dripping with skepticism. ‘You want me to play your mum for this daft rugby club night because your real folks are off sipping mai tais in Majorca? Mate, I’m not exactly the maternal type.’
Rowan grinned, his eyes glinting with mischief. ‘Oh, come on, Adam. It’s just one night. A bit of fun. Besides, I’ve got this.’ He waved the remote like it was the answer to all of life’s problems. ‘It’ll be quick. Painless. You won’t even know you’re not yourself.’
Adam snorted, setting his pint down with a clink. ‘Painless, my arse. You’re gonna turn me into some frumpy old bird with a perm and a handbag. I’m not signing up for that.’
‘Trust me,’ Rowan said, his tone smooth as silk. ‘I’ve got a vision. You’ll be... unforgettable.’
Before Adam could protest further, Rowan pointed the remote and pressed the button. A hum filled the air, and Adam’s body began to shift. His broad shoulders shrank, his frame morphing into something softer, more curved. His face reshaped itself—cheekbones sharpening, lips plumping, eyes becoming a striking hazel framed by long lashes. His short crop of hair lengthened just enough to fall into a chic, feminine bob. Then came the more intimate changes, his body hair vanishing, his groin reconfiguring in a way that made him gasp. Finally, his chest, hips, and thighs ballooned outward into exaggerated, almost cartoonish proportions, before his height shot up to a towering 7’5. Wrinkles etched themselves lightly into her skin, aging her to a stunning late forties.
Ada Wincote blinked, adjusting to her new reality. She ran a hand over her curves, her voice emerging in a posh, velvety purr that made Rowan’s eyebrows shoot up. ‘My, my! You have a very particular concept of mummy, don’t you, darling?’
Rowan smirked, trying to hide how taken aback he was by his own creation. ‘Gotta make an impression, right? You’re perfect, Ada.’
Ada arched a brow, her presence suddenly commanding. ‘Perfect, am I? Well, let’s hope your little rugby mates can handle a woman like me. I’m not here to bake scones and pat heads, you know.’
Over the next couple of days, Rowan noticed the changes went deeper than skin. Ada was no shrinking violet—she was dominant, doting in a way that felt almost suffocating, and unapologetically herself. She’d stride into a room and own it, her towering frame and sharp wit cutting through any nonsense. But there was one issue Rowan hadn’t anticipated: the smell. Despite showering three times a day, the summer heat and her massive body conspired against her. Sweat stains bloomed under her arms and beneath her colossal chest within minutes, and the odor... well, it was impossible to ignore.
On the night of the event, Rowan knocked on Ada’s door, already dreading the evening. ‘You ready yet? We’re gonna be late.’
The door swung open, and Rowan’s jaw hit the floor. Ada stood there in a custom black dress, low-cut and clinging to every exaggerated curve. It hid the sweat stains, but the scent still lingered, sharp and musky. She smirked, catching his stare. ‘Like what you see, darling? Or is it the aroma that’s got you gobsmacked?’
Rowan coughed, trying to play it cool. ‘Uh, you look... fine. But, er, do you think maybe another shower before we go?’
Ada laughed, a rich, throaty sound, and before he could react, she grabbed the back of his head and pulled him close, pressing his face near her crotch through the fabric of her dress. ‘Tell me, love, does mama need another rinse? Be honest now.’
Rowan sputtered, pushing back, his cheeks flaming. ‘Bloody hell, Ada! Yeah, alright, just... do it quick!’
She chuckled, releasing him with a playful shove. ‘Fine, fine. I’ll freshen up for my boy. But don’t think I’m doing this for anyone else. I’m a queen, sweat and all.’
As she sauntered off to the bathroom, Rowan shook his head, already feeling the weight of the night ahead. He couldn’t wait for this to be over—but something about Ada’s raw, unapologetic energy was stirring something in him. Something dangerous. Something that made his pulse race as he imagined what might unfold later, when the rugby club chaos was behind them, and it was just the two of them, alone, with nothing but heat and tension between them.
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