Jackson bit into another cupcake before heading out the door to get some beer. “Mmm! Mom sure knows how to bake!”
“You’re going to use cupcakes to change Jackson?” Erika asked her boss, visibly skeptical of the plan.
“Not just cupcakes,” Brandy explained, “But special cupcakes!”
“Sure! That explains everything!” Erika joked.
Brandy raised an eyebrow at her and let out a deep and smelly fart. She waited for Erika to wave it from her nose, and a little smile grew on her lips when she fought the urge. “These have a special ingredient. My hormones.”
“Your hormones? You need to explain that.”
“I had a doctor study my biochemistry and find out what make me, well, me. He was able to break down my hormones into a concentrated formula. We collaborated with bonding them to various sugar molecules and I’ve baked them into the cupcakes I send Jackson each month.”
“And he’ll change into you inside a month?”
“Well not into me, he does have his father’s lazy ass DNA in him after all, but he will be quite close, a female version of himself.”
“Inside a month?” Erika repeated. “That seems quick even for your super villain like plan,” she smirked.
Brandy raised her eyebrow at her secretary again, sending her the message to knock off the jokes, and replied. “Well the hormones are ramped up by almost 2000 percent, so Jackson should see results pretty quickly.”
“Like what?”
“Well he’ll probably get my gas pretty quickly,” Brandy smiled knowing Jackson’s feeling towards her smelly butt.
Jackson fumbled with the keys to his car as he devoured his third cupcake. His hands were slick with icing and he dropped them to the ground. He bent down to pick them up and the sweat pants drew across his butt just a little tighter than before. As he grabbed the keys he felt a hot wind burst free from his quivering ass. “Geez!” he yelled as the smell made its way to his nose. “God its worse than one of my mother’s!”
Jackson had always hated his mother’s farts, and the way she acted like they were perfectly normal. He had insisted she a stomach specialist many times, but his mother always refused, happy with her flatulence. “I like my farts, why can’t you?” she asked her son many times.
Jackson picked up the keys and opened the car, licking the frosting from his fingers. “God, I hope that’s not a thing,” he said smugly thinking about how he was going to buy a keg for the weekend and see if he was able to finish it.
“He’ll love that,” Erika said sardonically.
“It’ll be good for him,” Brandy smiled as she leaned to the side in her chair and blew out another rude booty belch.
“So what next? His penis shrink and he grows a vagina?” Erika asked a little excited.
“No. No. What is wrong with you?” Brandy asked a little disturbed of the possible answer. “Why would you want…I mean…Why?”
“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” Erika quickly backpedaled. “Just asking.”
“To answer your question, no that will be one of the last things to change. More than likely he’ll start to feel his breasts growing into these gigantic knockers,” Brandy told her with a shimmy of the old titties.
Jackson was driving home from the distributor, a keg in the backseat. He unconsciously kept scratching at his chest. “Damn my pecs are itchy today. I hope I’m not having a reaction to something in the cupcakes,” he told himself, without realizing the irony.
He arrived home and began to work the keg out of the backseat. He was itching his chest when he had another bout of flatulence. This one sounded like thunder and made Jackson’s face flush red with embarrassment. He grabbed the keg and waddled into the house with it. “Jeez, not mom’s gas,” Jackson whined. “Mom, what are you doing to me?” he joked.
“So then what? What happens to Jackson next?” Erika asked, intrigued by this whole scheme.
“Well its only symptoms for now, over the next few weeks they’ll get worse,” Brandy began to explain, “But I guess the next symptom would be, hmm, I guess it would be …”
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