Larry hated being small. Everything about it frustrated him. He couldn’t walk. He couldn’t talk. He couldn’t even control when he ate or when someone wiped him. He looked at his mother with quiet envy, watching how easily she moved, how she could do whatever she wanted without a second thought.
“If only I could be big,” he thought.
The moment the wish crossed his mind, something shifted. A low hum filled the air. He stared as his mother’s blonde head slowly began to sink into her shoulders. For a brief moment, her body stood completely still—pink top stretched across her chest, black leggings hugging her legs, her breasts exposed as the fabric rode up during the transformation.
Then his own vision began to blur. Pressure tugged at him from the inside. It felt like his head was melting downward, his senses spinning as something deep and invisible rewrote the rules of his body.
And then, silence.
Larry blinked.
He was no longer small.
He looked down to see adult hands, adult limbs, and the sturdy shape of a grown body. Across from him stood his mother, now shrunk down to his baby form. Her head had resized to match the soft onesie that clung to her new chubby frame. She looked up at him with bright, unbothered eyes.
“Who’s my big boy?” she cooed with a wide smile, completely unaware of what had just happened.
Larry’s thoughts swirled. He was big now. He had what he wanted.
But before he could even take it in, a sour smell filled the air. He turned toward the baby in front of him.
“Uh-oh,” she said sheepishly. “I think Mommy might need a change soon, honey.”
Larry sighed through his nose, stepped forward, and gently lifted her into his arms.
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