I’m Marcus, and fuck, I didn’t plan this shit, but I’m owning it now. Me and Kevin, we’ve been fucking with Harry since grade school—back when we’d pants him on the playground, shove him into mud puddles, call him a little bitch ‘til he cried. That shit carried over to college—tripping him in the dorm halls, stealing his notes, laughing while he flailed. Guy’s been our punching bag forever. But last semester, him and his fit-ass mom went whining to the dean, got us slapped with probation, nearly kicked out of the frat.

We swore we’d make ‘em bleed for it—turn their lives into a goddamn nightmare. Kevin’s got this voodoo auntie, all dark magic and weird vibes, so we raided her place, nabbed a spell off her altar—some cryptic chant about “flesh for vengeance.” Thought we’d zap Harry into somethin’ pathetic and watch him squirm.

We fucked it bad, though. Lit the candles in my off-campus apartment, half-pissed on shitty beer, stumbling over the words, and—bam—lights out.

I wake up sprawled on a couch in Harry’s house, blinds cracked, morning sun stabbing my eyes. Somethin’s wrong—my chest’s heavy, my legs smooth, and I look down—holy shit—I’ve got Harry’s mom’s body from the neck down. D-cup tits, firm and round, stretching a black camisole tight, nipples poking like they’re begging to be sucked. Her flat stomach dips into denim short-shorts, clinging to toned thighs—she’s no saggy hag, this chick’s been hitting spin class or some shit. My neck’s a mess—dark skin crashing into her lighter tan—but my hands? Hers now, slim and soft, nails chipped red. My old body’s gone, her head too, eaten by the spell probably.

I sit up, and those tits bounce—warm, heavy, sloshing under the fabric. I grab ‘em with her hands, squeeze hard, and—fuck—a jolt rips through me, straight to my crotch. Her pussy’s tight, throbbing under the shorts, already soaking the denim. I laugh, rough and deep, my voice sounding wrong in her frame. “Hell yeah,” I mutter, staggering up, feeling her ass flex—tight, perky, made for grabbing. I spot her phone on the table—Harry’s mom’s phone—and smirk. Time to get Kevin in on this.

“Yo, Kev,” I say when he answers, my voice growling out of her petite body. “Get over to Harry’s place. Now.”

He’s half-asleep, confused. “Marcus? What happened to you last night? What the fuck you doing at Harry’s? Why’s his mom’s phone calling me?”

“Just move your ass,” I snap, pinching a nipple through the camisole, grinning as the wet heat flares. “You’ll see.”

Kevin rolls up in twenty, pounding the door. I fling it open, standing there in her body—camisole hugging these D-cup beauties, shorts riding high on her thighs—and his eyes damn near pop out. “Marcus?! That’s—holy shit, Harry’s mom?!” he chokes, staring at my chest, then down to the smooth legs, the clash at my neck.

“Yeah, bitch,” I say, smirking, yanking the camisole down. Her tits spill free, full and bouncy, tan skin gleaming, nipples stiff as hell. “Spell went sideways, but check this shit.” I knead one, moaning low and dirty, feeling her pussy clench. “Suck ‘em, now.”

Kevin’s on me in a flash, mouth clamping a nipple, sucking hard. His lips are hot, sloppy, pulling at the flesh, and—fuck—it’s wild. Her body’s a live wire, every lick sparking straight to my crotch, soaking the shorts.

“Goddamn, man,” he mumbles, spit trailing down her tit, “these are fuckin’ prime.” He nips it, and I hiss, grabbing his head with her slim hands, shoving him deeper. The smell’s thick—her clean sweat, a hint of lavender, mixing with my musk as her pussy drips.

We’re deep in it, him slurping like a hog, me grinding her hips against nothing, when the front door swings open. Harry stumbles in, hoodie half-zipped, books slipping from his grip. “M-Marcus?!” he squeaks, voice cracking, staring at me—his mom’s body, my head, Kevin latched onto her tit like a leech. “What the fuck is this?!”

I yank Kevin off with a wet pop, turn to Harry, and grin, hefting both tits up with her hands. “Hey, loser,” I say, voice rough and smug. “Like the new me? Stole your mom’s fuckin’ body—tits, ass, pussy, all mine.” I tug the shorts down a bit, flashing the neat strip above her slick cunt, rubbing it slow while he gawks. “You and her fucked us over, so I’m fuckin’ her—me—however I want. Kev’s all over it too.”

Harry’s shaking, face drained. “You’re fucked up, man—this ain’t right! What did you do to my mom?!” he stammers, backing toward the door.

“Fucked up?” I laugh, loud and mean, stepping closer so her tits jiggle in his face. “This is payback, punk. Everyone else sees me as your hot-ass mom now—except you and Kev. Gonna strut this body all over campus, maybe fuck your profs with it. Whatcha gonna do, huh? Snitch again?” Kevin’s behind me, groping her ass, fingers sinking into the tight flesh, and I moan, locking eyes with Harry’s horror.

He bolts, tripping over his books, door slamming, and I cackle, turning to Kevin. “Get back to it, bitch,” I say, shoving his face into my other tit. His mouth’s on me again, greedy and wet, and I grind her pussy against his leg, feeling the slick smear. The room reeks—her sweat, my heat, Kevin’s spit—and I’m loving it. Harry’s gonna lose his shit, and I’m gonna cum with his mom’s body ‘til he cracks. Revenge is fuckin’ sweet, man.