I am You Pt. 01

"See you tonight, Jake," my mom called, her heels clacking on the hardwood as she smoothed her blazer in the hall mirror. She was a fucking goddess--43, but built like a porn star begging to be unleashed. Her navy pencil skirt gripped her wide hips, the back slit flashing meaty thighs that jiggled with every step, and her white blouse was a battlefield, buttons straining against her monstrous tits, threatening to pop and spill her flesh for the world to drool over. She managed some MNC, all corporate queen energy, but to me, she was a walking fetish I'd only recently embraced--a filthy obsession that consumed me whole.

It started a few months ago, just after I turned 18. I was home alone, restless and horny, when I found a pair of her black thongs in the bathroom hamper--crusty with discharge, reeking of her pussy and sweat. I locked the door, pressed them to my face, and inhaled like a junkie snorting his first line. The scent hit me like a freight train--raw, musky, intoxicating--and my cock throbbed harder than it ever had. I wrapped those filthy scraps around my shaft and jerked off right there, imagining her wearing them, her juices soaking through as she bent over, teasing me with that fat ass. That was it--I was hooked, a slave to her stink.

From then on, I raided her laundry weekly, stealing whatever I could get my hands on: satin bikinis, cotton briefs, lace G-strings--all drenched in her musk and slime. I'd stash them under my bed, a growing pile of her unwashed filth, and jerk off into them night after night. I pictured her catching me, her eyes widening as she saw me huffing her sweaty drawers, then bending over, spreading herself wide while I buried my face in her crotch. The thought of her knowing what a depraved pervert her son had become--and maybe even loving it--made me cum buckets.

I got bolder with time. One night, I stretched a pair of her soaked yoga panties over my face, the crotch plastered to my nose, and humped my pillow like a rabid dog, her dried juices smearing my lips. The terror of her busting in, seeing me like that, only fueled the rush. She never did, but the risk made every orgasm a mind-blowing explosion. Now, at 19 and unemployed, I had endless hours to dive deeper into my twisted hobbies. I'd always been a tech geek, and recently, I'd built a nano-bot chip--a little bastard that could possess bodies and bend minds. It was my golden ticket to turn my sick fantasies into reality.

"Later, Mom," I said, cool as ice, leaning on the kitchen counter with a smirk she didn't catch. My hand was in my pocket, stroking the dart gun--my master key to her body. I'd upgraded it last month: no timer, no limits, just pure, unfiltered possession for as long as I damn well pleased. I'd wanted her since that first whiff of her cunt turned me into a drooling, panty-sniffing freak, and now she was mine.

She grabbed her purse, slung it over her shoulder, and headed out. I drew the gun, aimed, and fired. The dart nailed her neck--a tiny speck she swatted as the nanochip sank in. She stepped outside, and bam--one blink, I wasn't me anymore. I was her, strutting in those heels, her pantyhose rasping against her sweaty thighs, her bra digging into her shoulders under those heavy, luscious tits.

"Fuck yes," I growled, her voice dripping with sex, low and throaty. I stopped, turned back, and leered at my reflection in the car window--her reflection. Angular cheekbones, red-slicked lips, dark hair pulled tight in a bun. I ran her hands down her curves, squeezing her ass through the skirt, feeling the firm flesh yield under my grip. "Mom, you're a walking cum factory, you filthy bitch," I snarled, licking her lips in the glass. "I'm gonna make you my nasty little plaything."

First move: ditch work. I yanked her phone from her purse and dialed her office. "Hey, Karen," I said, nailing her sharp, bitch-boss tone. "It's Lisa. I'm fucked--flu or some shit. Out all week. Yeah, sucks, right? Email the reports, I'll handle 'em from home. Thanks, babe." I hung up, grinning wide. "Sick? Only sick in the fucking head. Time to get dirty, you corporate slut."

I swaggered back inside, locking the door behind me. My old body was slumped on the couch--drooling, useless, a pathetic shell. "Sweet dreams, you limp-dick fuckface," I sneered, kicking it as I passed. I beelined for her bedroom, her shrine of stench and sin. The air was thick with her--perfume, sweat, pussy juice--a cocktail that made my borrowed cunt twitch. I kicked off her heels, her stockinged feet sinking into the carpet, and faced the full-length mirror, drinking her in with her own eyes.

"Look at this nasty fucking slut," I purred, her voice a wet, sultry dream. "Hey, Jake, you perverted little shit, been drooling over Mommy's body, huh? Sniffing my crusty panties since you turned 18, you disgusting creep?" I hiked the skirt up slow, flashing her pantyhose and black lace panties, soaked through with her sweat and slime. "You wanna ram your cock in me, don't you, you sick fuck? Want Mommy to spread her legs and grind her dripping cunt on your face? I'm all yours now, you panty-huffing degenerate." I groped her tits through the blouse, twisting her nipples until they hardened, pain and pleasure mixing in her gasp. "Come fuck me raw, Jake. Mommy's pussy's aching for her nasty boy--gonna drown you in my hot, sticky juice."

I ripped the blouse open, buttons pinging across the room, her tits bursting free in a black satin bra, the lace biting into her pale flesh. I tore it off, clutched it to her face, and snorted deep--her sweat, her perfume, a sour tang of armpit musk flooding my senses. "Oh fuck, Mom," I moaned, her voice trembling with lust. "You smell like a goddamn whorehouse. Wore this yesterday, didn't you? Sitting in meetings, soaking your panties while I jerked off to your stink at home?" I dropped the bra, still high on her stench, and spun back to the mirror.

Time to play. I yanked the skirt down, letting it pool at her ankles, and stood there in her pantyhose and lace panties, her fat ass jiggling free. I grabbed one of her tits with her left hand, squeezing the soft, heavy flesh hard, feeling it spill between her fingers--mine to command. With her right hand, I reared back and slapped her ass, the crack echoing like a gunshot. The sting shot through her, my phantom cock twitching as I watched her reflection flinch. "Take it, you dirty sow," I snarled in her voice, spanking her again, harder, the flesh blooming pink. I locked eyes with her in the mirror--her face, my power--cheeks flushed, lips parted, a puppet dancing on my strings. "Look at you, Mom, you fucking slut," I hissed, smacking her ass again, her tit bouncing in my grip. "Jake's owning you now, you sweaty, dripping bitch. Been dreaming of this--spanking your nasty ass raw while I choke your cunt with my dick." Another slap, her skin burning under my hand, sweat beading on her thick thighs. "You're my toy, you juicy whore--gonna bruise this fat ass till you scream for mercy, but I won't stop, you sick pervert's wet dream." I kept going, alternating cheeks, her flesh quaking, my grip on her tit tightening as I leered at her submission--her own son, her fucking god now.

One hand still mauling her breast, I slid the other down from her stinging ass, clawing at her crotch through the pantyhose. "You love this, you filthy fucking whore," I snarled, rubbing her clit raw, feeling it swell under my touch. "Your fucked-up son pawing you, making you gush like a slut in heat. Nasty pig." The pantyhose were drenched, her body begging for more, and I gave it to her, grinding harder as her grunts filled the room.

"Gotta see the prize," I said, peeling the skirt fully off her hips. It hit the floor, leaving her in pantyhose and those black lace panties I'd jacked off to a thousand times. I slid them down slow, drooling over the soaked crotch--dark, sticky, a puddle of her juice and sweat. I dangled them in her face, cackling like a maniac. "Check this, Mom. You're a fucking fountain for me, you sloppy bitch." I smeared the wet patch across her lips, then jammed them in her mouth, sucking hard. Sour, salty, rancid--her pussy juice and sweat coated her tongue as I chewed the lace. "Mmm, fuck yes," I groaned, muffled by the fabric. "You taste like a used cumrag, Mom. Wanna choke on my cock while I finger your tight little shithole?" I gnawed the panties, her fingers plunging into her bare cunt, sloppy and loud, slime dripping down her thighs like a river of sin.

The laundry basket was a pervert's paradise--days of her unwashed filth, ripe and begging to be defiled. I stumbled over, panties still gagging her, and dove in. I pulled out gray yoga pants, the crotch a swamp of sweat and juice, and a pair of white cotton panties--crusty with discharge, drenched in her musk. I held them up, grinning like a psycho. "All those months sneaking these, shitting myself you'd catch me," I said, her voice thick with twisted glee. "Hiding them under my bed, sniffing in the dark, terrified you'd bust in and see me with your sweaty panties plastered to my face. But now? I'm you, Mom. No one to catch me, no one to get caught--just us, wallowing in this sick fucking mess." That hit me hard--her and me, fused in perversion, no boundaries left. I lost it, slamming the yoga pants to her face, crotch over her nose, and snorted like a starving pig, then mashed the cotton panties against her mouth, huffing both. "No more hiding, Mom--gonna drown in your nasty stink!" I roared, sniffing so deep I gagged, her filth choking me as I rubbed her pussy raw, her juices slicking my fingers.

I stretched the yoga pants over her head, the sweaty crotch plastered to her nostrils, and yanked the cotton panties across her face, the crusty juice-stains right under her nose. "You're my fucking drug, you rancid slut," I snarled, snorting deep, her stench frying my brain. I wobbled to my room, her tits swinging free, and grabbed a joint. Back in her bedroom, I lit it, weed smoke curling through her stink. "Look at me, Mom," I said, exhaling as I flopped on her bed, panty-mask on, yoga pants draped like a cape. "Smoking up in your prissy little room, getting blitzed off your sweaty drawers, you stuck-up bitch." I took a hit, the high slamming me, and splayed her legs wide, her cunt a glistening, dripping mess in the mirror.

"Time to fuck myself stupid," I growled, snatching red silk panties from the basket--damp, musky, soaked in her juice and sweat. I wrapped them around her hand and attacked her clit, grinding it like I wanted to rip it off. "You love this, you disgusting pig," I rasped, her voice feral and raw. "Your son fisting your sloppy hole with your own filthy panties. Say it, you nasty cunt." I whined in her voice, "Oh, Jake, rip my cunt apart, make me gush all over your dirty hands!" I laughed, joint dangling as I pounded her, the silk drenched in her slime, squelching with every thrust.

I didn't stop--dug deeper into the basket, pulling out a week-old pair of blue satin panties, stiff with sweat and crusty discharge. I rubbed them against her face, smearing the filth under her eyes. "Been leaking for days, huh, Mom? Bet you fingered yourself in these, dreaming of some fat cock at work, you slutty bitch." I shoved them up her nose, snorting the rancid mix, then grabbed a black thong--ripped at the seam, stained with ass-sweat and pussy juice. I stretched it over her mouth, chewing the string, gagging on her taste. "Eat your own sweaty ass, you nasty cunt," I mumbled, spitting into the fabric as I fingered her harder, three digits stretching her hole wide, her moans muffled by the thong.

The basket was a goldmine--I yanked out pink cotton briefs, the crotch a swamp of pussy juices. "Oh fuck, jackpot," I hissed, pressing them to her face, sniffing the coppery rot. "Squirting for me, Mom? Gonna lick your slutty mess clean." I sucked the stain, her tongue coated in pussy funk, while I humped the air, her hips bucking like a bitch in heat. I piled on--green lace panties, torn and sweaty, wrapped around her neck like a collar; a beige pair, crusty with discharge, stuffed against her nipples to rub them raw. "Wear your filth, you dripping slut," I snarled, drowning in her stink, my senses overloading.

The first orgasm hit like a bomb--her body convulsed, a geyser of cum soaking the bed, and I screamed, "Squirt, you fucking sow!" through the panty-mask. Weed, her stench, the power--it melted my mind into a puddle of lust. I kept going, grabbing a sports bra--sweaty, reeking of gym ass--and scrubbed her tits with it while I fisted her, knuckles deep in her sloppy cunt. "Take it, you rancid bitch," I roared, picturing her choking on my cock. Another climax rocked her, a weaker flood, and I collapsed, gasping, joint smoldering beside me.

Round three was a haze--I smeared her sweaty cunt juice across her face, licking it off the panty-mask, and humped a pillow stuffed with her gym socks and yoga pants I'd fished out. "You're my juice-stained fucktoy," I slurred, cumming again, a shuddering wreck in her filth. Round four--I snorted a pair of purple panties, stiff with week-old sweat, and rubbed her clit with a crusty sock, howling as she sprayed again, soaking the mattress in her slutty mess.

I lay there, her body a sweaty, stinking ruin, the room a haze of weed and pussy rot. The week was mine--no limits, no rules. Then it hit me. I peeled off the panty-mask, leering at her reflection. "Why stay cooped up?" I rasped, smearing her slime over her thighs. "Gonna dress you up, Mom--slutty as fuck. We're hitting downtown, picking up some bitches, showing 'em this nasty, dripping body."

I stood, trembling but raging, and raided her closet for the sluttiest outfit I could find. I settled on a tight red dress that hugged her curves like a second skin, the hem barely covering her ass, paired with black stilettos and a push-up bra that shoved her tits up to her chin. I did her makeup heavy--dark eyeliner, red lipstick smeared thick, turning her into a high-end whore ready to fuck the night away. "Look at you, Mom," I whispered to her reflection, groping her ass. "A walking wet dream, and I'm gonna make you screw like one, you dirty slut."

I stepped outside, the cool night air kissing her skin, and strutted to the bar downtown. Heads turned--men and women alike, their eyes raking over her body, stripping her bare with their stares. I could feel their hunger, their filthy thoughts, and it made me wetter, knowing I controlled every inch of this goddess.

At the bar, I perched on a stool, crossing her legs slow and seductive, letting the dress ride up to flash her bare pussy--no panties tonight. A woman sidled up, all curves and confidence, her eyes locked on my cleavage. "Hey, gorgeous," she purred, leaning close. "Mind if I buy you a drink?" I smiled, trailing a finger down her arm. "Only if you promise to make it worth my while, you sexy bitch."

We chatted, her gaze lingering on my tits, and I leaned in, whispering, "Wanna see what's under this dress, you horny little minx?" She nodded, her breath hitching, and I led her to a dark corner, hiking the dress up to show off her dripping cunt. "Touch me, you dirty girl," I commanded, and she did, her fingers sinking into my wetness. I moaned loud, egging her on. "That's it, finger Mommy's cunt right here. Make me cum all over your hand, you filthy slut."

I wasn't done. "Bathroom, now," I growled, dragging her to a stall. I shoved her against the wall, lifted her skirt, and buried my face in her pussy, licking her like a starved animal. "You taste like heaven, you nasty whore," I gasped, my tongue flicking her clit. She moaned, grinding against my mouth, and I finger-fucked her hard, her juices dripping down my chin. When she came, screaming, I licked her clean, savoring every drop. "Good girl," I whispered, kissing her deep, letting her taste herself on my lips.

Back at the bar, I spotted another woman--petite, shy, but her eyes screamed curiosity. I sauntered over, all charm. "Hi, I'm Lisa," I said, my voice smooth as silk. "Mind if I join you, sweetheart?" She blushed, nodding, and we flirted, my hand brushing her thigh, teasing her. "Wanna come back to my place and play, you little tease?" She hesitated, then agreed, and we left, her hand trembling in mine.

At home, I led her to the bedroom, the air still thick with weed and pussy stench. "Got a surprise," I said, nodding at my old body on the couch. "That's my son. He's out cold, but he'd love to watch us, you kinky bitch." She wavered, then smirked. I woke my old body with the chip, controlling both now--her and me. The power was a fucking rush.

I stripped my old body and got us on the bed. She dove in, her hands all over us, kissing my mother's body while I guided my old body to slide behind her, rubbing her clit with my fingers. The dual sensation--her mouth on mine, her pussy clenching around my touch--blew my mind. "Oh fuck, you're so wet," I groaned from my old body, teasing her. From her body, I whispered, "You love my son touching you while I kiss you, don't you, you dirty little slut?" She moaned, "Yes, yes, use me," and I did, driving her wild. When she came, shuddering, I pulled her close, both bodies trembling in sync.

She left, spent and grinning, and I collapsed in my mother's body, soaked in sweat and satisfaction. I'd pushed every limit, but this was just the start. With the chip, I could possess anyone, fuck anything, break every taboo. For now, I basked in the filth I'd created, her body my playground, my fantasies unleashed.