T3B - Slut Makeover

Author's Note: This is one of the most important author notes I've written in a while. I want to make this very clear. I love Aya Brea, and the Parasite Eve series. To me, the Aya depicted in this extreme parody is the 3rd Birthday version Aya (in other words, not the real Aya from PE1 and PE2) taken to the step I think the people at S-E behind this would like if they could get away with it, and to me, this fic has as much weight on the real Aya from PE1 and PE2 as 3rd Birthday does: none. Square-Enix has taken a character I liked and twisted everything about her into a horrible joke. That's the fuel behind this fic. That's not to say any of you should feel bad if you enjoy reading this, that's not my intent. This fic is meant to take jabs at what I, personally, see as wrong with Square-Enix's actions, for potential amusement, with the kind of content you'd expect from a pornographic fic. I also realize Eve is legally Aya's clone sister at the end of PE2, I just see their relationship differently, so for fic purposes I wrote it that way. I could say so much more, but I'll leave it at this: if you're a fan of PE1 and PE2 Aya and find this offensive in terms of those versions of her, I profusely apologize. This isn't meant to make that version of Aya look bad. It's meant to be how the things this company is doing to her through 3rd Birthday look to me.

"Eve, we have to talk about your Biology grade."

Ten years, and she still wasn't used to this whole mom thing. There were definitely perks to working for the city police department again after she left MIST. Traffic was one of them. All those years patrolling the streets gave her an implicit knowledge of the city's comings and goings, the flow of cars from one block to the next in its peak hours. Clear roads spread out before them from Eve's college back to their small two-bedroom apartment. She turned right on 35th, passing a casual glance to a draping advertisement for the very same opera that once performed at Carnegie Hall. Was it really so long ago that her life took this strange turn? The slender black dress she wore on her elegant date to the classy opera still hung in her closet, a memento of the crazy New York affair.

Aya looked at her identical clone daughter right in her gemstone blue eyes for a scant second.

"You're going to one of the best schools in the country and you're blowing it with your grades. Do you know how much money it costs to spend all those years in development?"

"I know mom, I know."

"No you don't. These are the best years of your life and you're wasting them by goofing off. Do I have to remind you what happened to that Duke guy? Thirteen years all down the drain because he didn't take his life seriously."

Eve rolled her eyes. "Mom, there's more to life than grades. You're the one that said these are the best years of my life, I don't want to spend them studying old dusty books in a library. I want to have friends."

The red of the next stoplight gleamed across the car's windshield. Aya inched to the line and stopped, glancing between the light and her foster child.

"Eve, I never said I don't want you to make friends, but cheap thrills aren't the foundation for making a good, lasting impression on the world." The light shifted to green. Slowly, Aya pressed down on the pedal. "Having a good time with your friends shouldn't come at the price of your future. I don't want you to flunk out of school and have to look back on your life ten years from now with bad memories all because you're too concerned with doing what all the cool kids are doing. I-"

"MOM LOOK OUT!"

Aya whiplashed her head forward as she stomped on the brakes. Her car screeched forth, milliseconds stretching as if whole minutes with the slew of motorcycles and kids who rode them directly in their path. She clamped her eyes shut, dreading the sound of a couple bodies slamming over the hood and rolling over her roof. When the car halted, she sighed with relief. Her first instinct, her daughter, kicked in as she checked on her.

"Are you alright?" Aya asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine. My neck's a little sore, that's all." Eve's eyes lit up, mouth brimming into a wide smile as she looked ahead. She rolled down the window, calling out. "Hey, Tommy! Are we still on for that party tonight?"

"You better believe it," he answered. "Pick you up at eight."

Rubbing her neck, Aya unbuckled her seat belt to get out and assess any damage when she heard the exchange. Or more precisely, when she saw this mysterious Tommy, as he and his pals got back on their bikes. Their motors revved, all three ready to speed off from the scene. Oblivious, ignorant of the accident they almost caused through the same reckless attitude that trickled down to her daughter's view of her development.

"Hold it right there!" Aya's voice boomed rage as she threw open her car door. She snatched up her police citation pad and a pen, then walked around her vehicle to reach the group of boys.

"Is there a problem, Miss Brea?" Tommy said.

"That's Officer Brea to you, and you better believe there's a problem."

"Mom! Stop, it was just a small accident," Eve cried.

Aya raised her hand, signaling silence to her daughter. "That little stunt almost caused a major crash. Were you looking where you were going at all?"

The boy smirked, "No, why should I? It worked out in the end, you saw me and stopped."

A fuming Aya tapped her pad with her pen. Her face turned darker shades of red with every sentence of obnoxious conceit the boy dished out at her. "The more people you hurt with these antics, the fewer you'll have to support you when you need it most. You got lucky this time, but what do you think would've happened if I was someone who didn't care about how long you lived? You have to think of your future, otherwise you might take a big hit one of these days and never recover."

"Whatever you say, mom," Tommy smirked. "Are you done with the lecture? I've got places to go."

Her arm shook as rage boiled over her. It burned inside, hotter than the burn of her first awakening to the long-gone mitochondria threat. It took all her concentration to steady her hand and set the point of her pen on her citation pad.

"That's it, I'm writing you up."

"MOM!" Eve said.

"Not now Eve, I'm on duty." She channeled her anger into words, jotting down every important detail of the crime she witnessed. Running a red light. Reckless driving. Every piece that added to the fine. She glared at Tommy's other pals, each griping and groaning over the ticket as she ripped it off the pad and shoved it in the boy's hand. "Maybe that'll teach you to take things more seriously. And leave my daughter out of any wild ideas you might have of what makes for fun."

"Aw c'mon, it was one little incident," he said.

"Listen, I don't know what you do in your free time but you put my daughter's life in danger just now. Worse, you're putting her future at risk every time she sees you blow off rules and regulations. The last thing she needs is a group of kids making her forget about what matters most. Have a nice day."

She slipped the pen into her jacket pocket, glared at the boy one more time and turned back to the car. Her eyes fell on the windshield... at her foster daughter. Eve's blonde hair hung low as her head hung, sulking with a hand at her forehead. Through the open window, Aya's slightly enhanced hearing caught Eve's mumbling.

"Great mom, I'm never going to live this down. There goes my social life."

She stood for a moment, analyzing her own actions next to the needs of an eighteen year old girl. Did she really sound so... joyless? Overbearing? A few steps toward the car, she paused as she overheard the boys talking about her.

"Man, talk about mom on a rampage. I bet she has a shock collar if her daughter isn't studying."
"What a MILF though. She looks like she's not much older than us. If that's what Eve'll look like at her age, then damn."
"Great ass too. What kind of panties you think she wears? Heart pattern? Chocobos? Hell, maybe she goes commando."
"Nah, with a bitchy attitude like that she's gotta be wearing granny panties."
"No way, a woman only becomes that much of a tight cunt if they don't get enough exercise. Her mom probably made her put on a chastity belt after she got teen pregnant and had Eve."
"I'll tell you though, it would be a dream come true if she looked like the most shameless whore in New York."
"Hey guys... you notice she's just standing there?"

Their eyes on her back burned almost as much as her ears did at their comments. Her straight-on view of her daughter, moping in the car, stilled her from turning around and slapping the boys for their remarks. Aya covered her forehead as her imagination ran wild with what this one little incident might do the Eve's social life. Rejection, teasing, sure it would push her daughter toward her studies... but at what cost? They were boys, and her thoughts went to the one sure thing that would undo the damage she just caused.

"The things I do for my daughter." Aya sighed and reached down, past her belt, past her gun holster. Her finger rubbed against fabric as she slid them under the edge of her skirt and lifted. Tossing her head back, she jutted her butt out, looking squarely at the three boys. "If you must know, I like to wear thongs."

A flurry of pounding came from the car with Eve rushing to roll down the window and poke her head out. "MOM?!" That one word flowed with all the shock and embarrassment of a young daughter watching her mother show off from the front. She might have been able to rub the obscene scene from her thoughts if it weren't for the mirrored shop windows, burning every supple inch into her mind. Aya's bubbly cheeks swallowed the black string whole, while a few stray blonde pubes poked out the sides of the thong front. It was natural, when the garment conformed so tightly to her mother's groin that it formed a very vivid cameltoe.

"Is this for real?"
"Daaaaaaaaaamn that's a nice ass."
"I.... I.... momma..."

Aya blinked. Her feelings muddled in her stomach as a tingly mess. Rage, love, shame... and as it began to creep out, pride. It swelled above the other sensations, her hot chest causing her to unzip the front of her dress just a bit. They were enraptured by her? The mom? She tried to wrap her head around it, as feelings forgotten since Eve's age returned in full force. She was in her thirties going on twenty-five. The mitochondria in her body preserved her youthful vibrance, while her thoughts, her feelings, matured years beyond to compensate. She recalled her first kiss, sneaking out to go to parties, but the feeling remained dormant... until now.

Her heart pounded, and the stiffness in the boys' pants beckoned for a little more. She followed the cries of her own heart, shook her ass once and gave one playful spank that made the whole left cheek jiggle.

"Oh god my body wasn't ready!" One of the boys cried as his hands automatically darted for his groin as if he had any control over the rush of appreciative ejaculate into his boxers.

Aya hid the fraction-of-a-second proud smile at her conquest and lowered her skirt. Straight-faced again, she glanced back. "Be sure to show my daughter a good time at that party tonight, alright?"

"R-right Officer Brea," Tommy said.

Aya started to walk back to the car and froze. Her legs felt... strange. Her gait carried her body in an awkward pattern, hardly shifting her weight, pressed up stiff as a rod. Compensating, she swung her hip when she stepped, then the other way on the next one. She thrilled as her walk caused her to swagger her once-forgotten mating call. She gave them one last chance to look before she opened the driver's side door and slipped inside.

"Mom, what... what.... agh, this is so embarrassing!" Eve flustered.

"That's no way to talk to me after I saved your social life. Though I have to admit, that was kind of fun..." she wryly smirked.

"Saved? More like did a kamikaze number on it. I'm never gonna live this down..."

"Oh hush, I know boys and showing a little ass goes a long way. In fact, I think you need a few pointers on how to have fun too."

"Mom... ?" Eve's open-ended question got no response as her mother rolled down her own window and drove right up beside the boys, stopping right in the middle of the intersection.

"I still expect you to pay that ticket," Aya said.

"You better believe I will, Officer Brea. I'll pick your daughter up at eight on the dot."

Aya casually smiled to Eve, then back to her daughter's beau. "Don't worry about that, I'll bring her to the party. You just make sure you're ready to have the night of your life. And call me Aya, a handsome young man like you should know you can get away with it if you make her feel like she's just as old as you are."

"Yes, Aya."

"Good, see you tonight." With that, Aya rushed through the stoplight right as it shifted from yellow to red. A few blocks past the spot, Aya said, "Eve, where's the hot new place kids your age go to get some good clothes?"

"It's at the next right and a few streets down....." Eve's confusion lifted, and she perked up with a grin as she put the pieces together. "Oh, I get it! I get it now! We're going shopping to get ready for the party, aren't we?"

Aya tapped her nose. "You got it. All I've got is this old thing I've had around for even longer than I met you."

"Mom?" Eve was back where she started, mulling over all ways to interpret those words. Her mother couldn't possibly mean...

Aya brimmed as she told Eve. "I'm gonna need a complete makeover if I'm going to fit in with you and your friends. And stop calling me mom, it makes me sound old and uncool. Call me Aya."

----------------------

"Is there anything else your sister needs?"

"She's not my sister. She's my mother," Eve answered the store clerk.

"Wow, really? You're lucky, I don't know many moms cool and hot enough to pull off wearing these kinds of clothes."

"...That'll be all, thanks." Eve waited for the gushing store clerk to walk off before she slumped in her chair. The whole situation she was in... it was insane. Just an hour ago, she suffered an earful from her mother about her responsibilities, what she had to do as a growing young woman in an adult world. Now, she found herself on the opposite end. She was the adult, sitting outside the changing rooms, staring at the one her mother chose.

She silently gagged when she saw Aya's black thong hit the floor. A moment later, a swift kick by her mother sent the garment under the door's lower gap, wrapping around her ankle. Her face screwed up as she nudged it off and moved away. "Eww..."

"Put it in your purse, Eve," Aya said. Her arms rose over her head as she slipped her jacket off her arms.

"No way I'm touching that thing when I know where it's been," she said.

"You're a big girl, it's just one little thong. Hurry before one of the employees sees and we get kicked out."

"I don't think we'll get kicked out considering the suggestions this store is giving you. They even convinced you to use your mitochondria powers to burn your personality into something awful." With much scowling, Eve pinched her thumb and forefinger around the thong string. A brief flashback reminded her where the spot she held would rest between Aya's cheeks, edging right along her mom's anus. That knowledge alone brought shivers as she dropped the garment among her most cherished assortment of makeups and perfumes. "Looks like I'll need to buy a new purse..."

Looking up, she saw Aya shimmy the denim pants over her ankles and up her legs. The zipper resounded past the door, and metal prongs clicked against the buckle of a black leather belt. Then, all fell silent. The calm before the storm. The door burst open, and out sauntered the new Aya Brea.

"What do you think Eve? Hot or not?"

The tough girl hot stuff vibe Aya tried to put on had her standing with her back slightly arched, hand against her right hip and gun in her left hand pointed toward the ceiling. Aya's old clothes were gone, abandoned on the floor along with any remnants of the officer's professional air. Trading function for looks, her navel showed at the bottom parting of her laced up black vest. Where other women wore crosses or jeweled pendants, the former MIST agent adorned a simple strip of grey metal dangling from her neck. It served its purpose well, as even Eve found herself drawn to its shine... and got an eyeful of her mom's deep cleavage.

A clink of the four tacky, cheap ring bracelets on Aya's right wrist brought Eve's gaze down to take in a sight she thought could never surpass the horror of what she saw above. High-heeled boots replaced Aya's older, flat-level pair, reaching up to her knees. Then came the worst: her new pants. In a store of designer jeans, items made of the toughest denim or softest khaki, Aya chose the cheapest, most low-rent pair she could dig out of the piles. They hugged her every curve, beat up and tattered. Giant holes peppered all the way up to a waist cut so low, her belt looked like the one binding that kept them from dropping to show her bare mound. White strings of fabric barely held some parts of her pants together. A lone pube stuck out of a tiny hole at her crotch. Aya stood before her daughter as the proud model for a great line of slutwear.

"Mom, you..." It was so hard getting it out. So very hard. She looked Aya in the eyes every day, careful not to say the tiniest little swear within earshot lest her foster mom chew her out. Her tongue inched on the border between her thoughts and her upbringing by this very same woman. No other words could describe what she was looking at, yet these very same words were forbidden. When nothing else would come to her, they flew from her mouth. "You look like a trashy skank."

Eve braced for her mother's usual reprimand, the whole finger wave and raised eyebrow routine as Aya chewed her out ten times worse than she ever saw her do to a subordinate in the workplace. Instead, she sat stunned as Aya put her other hand to her hip and put on a childish pout.

"Oh, you're just afraid I'll steal those cute young boys away from you. You wouldn't have this problem if you'd loosen up and put on a matching pair. You heard the clerk, we look like sisters, we should start acting like it. I'm not getting any older you know."

Eve grit her teeth and ran her hands through her hair. "MOM, nobody in their right mind dresses like that no matter how old they look on the outside. I'm serious, look at yourself. You're wearing ripped up jeans and a weird vest thing. If you walk around the city like that, people are going to think you're a two-dollar hooker that can't afford a new pair of pants."

"Hey Aya, nice tits!"

As quickly as Eve made her point, it came crumbling down with the store clerk's comments. She turned and glared at the teenage girl behind the desk, the effect completely lost as her mom gave a thumbs-up of approval for the 'compliment'. Everywhere they went, the clerk threw suggestions that quickly spun into an abyss of crazy nightmarish changes to her mother's public image.

She could hear her mother's jeans straining at their seams as Aya strutted over and sat beside her. Soon she had Aya's arm wrapped over her shoulder, pulling her into a cheerful hug. Eve settled into the warm embrace, thoughts wandering to the day Aya rescued her from the labs. Loving, nurturing, strong, the kind of woman whose determination could melt her fears with the certainty she would come out of it safe. Her head drooped against her mom's shoulder...

"You really should try on a pair of these pants. They're so rough and tight!" Aya exclaimed. "I feel like I could cream myself in them if I walk around long enough."

Eve scrambled away, falling over the corner of her seat. "Eww, stop saying things like that. I don't want to hear those words coming from you, I respect you too much."

"If you really respected me, you'd want all your friends to like me, and you'd help me make that happen. I'm only trying to find my place in the world and fit in like any other half-naked teen."

"But Mom-"

"But nothing. I've seen those popular teen movies too, kids your age love to say all sorts of dirty things about their bodies. Right Jesse?"

"Damn right Aya! There's nothing a guy likes more than a girl that looks and acts like a wet dream."

Eve groaned at the store clerk as she stood. "You're not helping."

If this were a cartoon, she could have seen dollar signs in the clerk's eyes. The overpriced bracelets on her mom's wrist were already a guaranteed twenty dollars for the store, and they jingled their slut call loud and clear as Aya practiced her walk down the aisles. Her gun hand swung and her hips rolled into each step. Every movement made a huge display of her ass in its paper-thin confines, while Aya gathered a whole shopping basket full of the same wardrobe. A few fetish outfits came along for the ride, stuffed in with a French maid outfit, a Slutty Secretary ensemble complete with showing corset, even a cosplay of the store's most recent pink-haired idol. Within minutes, they were at the check-out counter. Face to face with the clerk, Eve couldn't help but let it out.

"You don't even care about what you're doing to my mom, do you? It's just another sale to you."

Jesse's wide, beaming smile was the perfect false frame for her words. "You're so paranoid. All I want to do is help your mom find the right look and attitude to appeal to modern interests. The times have changed. Nobody wants to hang out with a tough mature cop with an all-professional attitude, they want to hang out with a down and dirty woman who isn't afraid to show it off. She needs to keep up the appearance of being just a slightly older version of young kids today so they'll buy her up."

Eve rolled her eyes. "Mom, can't you see what she's doing to you? To us? She's turning you into a cruel parody of everything you are."

Aya scoffed. "Hmph. You simply don't understand what it takes to depict the thinking and lifestyle of a cool woman. When you get to be my age, you're expected to have fucked at least a hundred different men in your life."

"Gahh, stop saying things like that! Besides, you've only dated one or two men in the past ten years."

Aya grinned. "That's why I have to work extra hard to look like a cool, mature woman. That's why I bought these 'fuck me' boots to go with my new wardrobe. Boys your age never question a woman's score when she looks like she's asking for it."

"Score?! You're calling it a score now? Oh god, what next, are you going to make charts to find out what accessories make men want to have sex with you more?"

"Hey, that's not a bad idea," Aya looked to the clerk. "How about it? Do you have any other accessories I can try out?"

"MOM!"

Jesse chimed, "You could always buy those necklaces in bulk and sell them off for a little extra cash. A woman like you is bound to have a lot of people who want little trinkets to remember what a fun time they had with you."

"That sounds perfect. Ring it up with the rest of these clothes."

Her basket's contents poured out on the counter. Aya went about snatching up more items, her daughter's posturing ignored as she slipped one ring over her left hand's ring finger. She paused in reflection of the day she almost went through with her wedding to Kyle Madigan, called off at the last minute. She forced herself back to the present.

"Aya? Bad news," Jesse said. "The manufacturer recalled all these clothes this afternoon because they rip too easy, especially the jeans. You'll have to buy some other ones."

Eve sighed her first fresh breath of relief in hours. Try as Jesse might, her hands were tied with orders from above. She coaxed her mom toward the dressing room, and blanched moments later when her mom found a way around even this restriction.

"Did you just say they rip easy?" Aya's mellow question rose into a girlish squeal. "That's exactly what I need! Listen, these pants are no good anyway, how about I slip you a few extra dollars per pair and come back for the rest tomorrow morning."

"Mom, you can't be serious!" Eve protested.

To this, the police officer smirked. "I told you showing a little ass goes a long way, now I can show more skin as I walk around. I'll be the biggest cocktease at the party!"

She felt weak. Stepping back, Eve dropped into a nearby chair. The total for Aya's new choice of fashion rang up to at least a month's worth of apartment rent... unusual, considering how little cover that really amounted to. "This is a nightmare.... can I go home? I don't even want to go to the party anymore."

"No way sister, we're both going to the party and we're gonna really put in some play time. You're going to accept the new me if I have to drag you there."

Packing the items into plastic bags, Jesse gave a few sage words of advice. "Remember, packaging is the first and most important step. You want people to take one look at you and think 'Damn she looks like an easy whore, how much do I have to put down to get a piece of that action?' After they get past that, it's all about presentation and gameplay. You might take twice as long in development because you're so old, but you've been around the block a few times so you should have no trouble getting people pumped up on name alone."

"Nevermind the fact you aren't even Aya Brea anymore..." Eve sulked.

It went ignored as Aya picked up a few colored bottles. She read their labels. "Sephiroth? Lightning?" She uncapped the Lightning perfume bottle and sniffed. "Oh, how nice. It smells just like peach and roses. I could use a bottle or two of this perfume. Every time I get active, I smell so bad that I swear a blind man would think I'm an open dumpster, and that's giving dumpsters a bad name."

"Mom, I thought you were over that smell paranoia?" It was practically all Eve heard every time they did something that could make them work up a sweat. How she was always running out of Eau de Toilette, or how some rotting corpse on a water tower in the middle of the desert could smell more fragrant than she did. Aya's obsession with the idea that she smelled bad was a little unnerving to tell the truth.

Jesse snatched the bottles from Aya's hands. "Perfume like that is waaaaaaaaay too classy for a woman like you. You're not going to some opera in an elegant black dress, you're going to a wild party where the real show is your tits and ass. Try some of this."

Aya took the offered perfume and twisted the cap off. One whiff and her mouth opened with a suppressed moan. It spoke of gunpowder, blood and sweat, a cheap dirty scent with an underlying feminine musk. Its saccharine goodness and the hard, almost offensive afterscent perfectly captured the complexity of her youthful physique and mature cool attitude. Aya positively glowed. "Oh, you're so right, this definitely fits my new style better than Eau de Toilette ever did."

"I knew you'd like it! Be sure to use the whole bottle before you go to the party. The stronger you smell, the more people will take notice that you're around."

"What's it called?"

Jesse opened her mouth, on the verge of detailing everything from its name to its creator when she stopped. Looking over her customer, she cocked her head, tapped her chin and hmmed. "You know, it was a work in progress name, but it's really bad. In fact, it's SO bad that we've been trying to find a better one, and I think we just found it."

"You don't mean...?" Aya asked.

Eve caught on quicker. "Oh no..."

Jesse pressed a button under her desk. Soon a short, dark-haired man emerged from the back rooms. The store clerk proudly announced her discovery.

"Adam, you know that perfume you've had a hard time giving a good name? Meet Aya Brea, the perfect mascot!"

Adam nodded as he took cold, dry observation of Aya. Not one short breath or stir in his pants emerged from his walk around her. He weighed her body in dollars, measuring the round thickness of her chest and rear to the yardstick of recent trends. At last, he said, "Good work Jesse. Every part of her gives physical presence to our newest fragrance. By next year, everyone in the world will know the name Aya Brea."

"Will I get a cut of the profits?" Aya asked.

Adam said, "If we find that your image sells well to our target audience, we may create a whole line of merchandise with your name attached to it. Imagine how it would feel to see young women dress like you because they like the appealing image that you give of a cool mature woman."

"More like the image of a cool mature skank." Eve muttered, a ghostly witness to the unfolding chaos. She coughed from the heavy dousing of the newly named perfume as Aya spritzed it on her armpits, cleavage and just above the waist line of her jeans. "Ugh, mom, go easy on the stuff."

Aya said, "That's enough Eve. Adam, could you explain it all to her? Maybe words from a professional will help her come to grips with so much change."

"When it comes to your friends' reaction to the quality of your appearance, some will value it highly and some will not be very happy with it," Adam said. "I think the final product will be able to meet the expectations of those who know Aya Brea."

"You don't know the first thing about my mother! All you know is how much money you think you can make from destroying her image. Anything to make a buck on low-quality crap, huh?" Eve challenged. When confronted with such claims, most people would backpedal to justify their actions. She didn't at all expect the man to answer with so much melancholy and dispassion, like a drone spouting messages from a computer-made feed.

"Looking at the numbers alone, it is pretty good, because we were able to release our latest fashions in all three markets of Japan, United States and Europe in a very short period of time, and we were able to reach 5 million units rapidly - and I think this product will grow further."

"That... that only proves what I was saying..."

Jesse said, "Thank you very much Adam, I'll be sure Aya comes by to discuss the details of her call girl services soon."

"Call... girl... services?" Eve shuddered.

And just as quickly as he arrived, the man disappeared into the back rooms once more. Jesse added a few bottles of the cheap-scented perfume free of cost to Aya's bag. She grabbed a couple complimentary condoms when the officer stopped her.

"I won't be needing condoms." She smiled at the girl's puzzled look. "I'm a very special woman, you see. A 'gift' and 'monster' to mankind, in more ways than one. There aren't many things that could make me pregnant, and when it comes to men I may as well be a whole other species."

"Oh, I get it! Sort of like humans and monkeys."

"You got it. I'm the ideal cum dumpster." With a playful wink, she snatched up her bags and beckoned Eve to follow. As they made for the door, Aya paused as she heard it. RRRRRIIIIIIPP! Turning her back to a mirror, she wriggled her rump, admiring how the fresh gash exposed her pasty white butt cheek. "Oh yeah, my ass is ready to PARTY!"

Eve smacked her forehead. She felt nauseous, a gurgling in her stomach threatening to rise up and let itself out. The door bell chimed as Aya thrust it open, its farewell note completed by the store tagline straight from Jesse's mouth. "Come back soon Aya, and remember: it's hip to be Square!"

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Another hour later, they were there. The moment of dread, when everything in her life changed forever. Aya Brea, her foster mother, a face and body she knew as an authority equally at work and home, mixed in seamlessly among the red light district streetwalkers as they approached Tommy's place. Aya took small steps up the apartment stairs. A hint of pink aureole snuck from Aya's vest, and her left underbosom sagged as gravity fought the tightness of her vest. Below, her pants looked more akin to a pair of shorts, her toned thighs exposed to the cool breeze of a New York City night. A pair of handcuffs and a baton hung on Aya's left and right sides by belt loops, warning each prostitute of Aya's profession where her looks deceived.

Fingering the trigger of her gun, Aya looked over to the nearest street corner. "Evening ladies, how's games? Sales going good?"

"Fuck you, why don't you blow your brains out with that gun so we don't have to worry about you ruining it for the rest of us," one woman said.

"Mmm. Is that what you want?"

Aya snapped back the guard of her holster, grabbed her gun and raised it to her face. Eyes closed, her hot breath misted in the frosty winter air as she cooed. Under the streetlights, her nipples rose against her vest, the chill of night and warmth of her burning lust mingling in her chest. Her tongue sensuously licked the ice cold barrel of her gun, rimming its tiny hole like the tip of a nice thick member. Her mouth wrapped around its end, and she pumped, along her lips, savoring smooth and rough alike. All the while, her finger rubbed the trigger, squeezing back slowly. She pulled.

"MOM!" Eve shouted.

Aya grinned. "Hehe, safety's on. I'd never off myself, with a body like this I'll make millions by whoring myself out."

She dropped the gun to her left side and basked in the confused jaw-dropped looks of the city hookers. "You ladies should try the internet some time, these days you can get tips and tricks and cheats for free. You can even find strategy guides and walkthroughs to help you learn how to do it in every style and language in the world! It did wonders for me and I only had a chance to look it up for a few minutes."

For a moment, Eve stood in the afterglow of disgusted horror before following Aya. They entered, leaving behind the frosty outdoors for the seclusion of an apartment complex. They made their way up the stairs, Aya leading. As they reached the apartment, Eve froze. "Mom, if you're trying to make me pay more attention to my studies, you've made your point. Can we please go home?"

Aya strutted, her ass ablaze with the fires of her new passion in life. Face to face with her foster daughter, Aya touched Eve's chin and looked her squarely in the eyes. "Look, Eve, you may be afraid of change but it's not going to change the fact that I'm putting out after all these years and all your hot young friends are gonna get a chance to tap this ass. I refuse to let you run home and act like everything's the same as it was ten years ago. I've gone without getting my ass reamed all these years. It's about time the next generation got a chance to fuck me over good and hard like so many others my age."

"You don't have to do this mom!" Eve pleaded. "It's not too late. We can cancel our date. We can-"

"Knock knock, we're here!" Aya pounded on the door.

The hinges creaked as it opened. Light flooded into the darkened hallway. Eve covered her eyes from the piercing brightness to look on a shadow of a man, his identity discovered moments later.

"Hey girls, welcome to the -- whoa Aya, what happened to you?" Tommy said. "You look like hell. Are you alright?"

"Don't give me that crap!" She shouted, even above the raucous rhythmic noise that counted for music. "I'm on to what's going on here. You're all under arrest."

Those four words screeched the party to a halt. Dancing slowed to a halt, the tunes cut out into silence, and all eyes turned to look at the intrusive cop in their midst.

"Kidding!" Aya beamed as she shoved a six pack into Tommy's arms and tossed her gun into the crowd of party people. Her hands slithered behind and down the back of her head as she stepped further into their domain, smooth shaven armpits wafting her trashy new perfume to those in sniff range. "Make sure the youngest ones get first crack at those beers, you stud you. The first timers need a little help loosening their minds and pants if they're gonna have my kind of fun at this party."

Aya remained undaunted, strutting to the center of the room to give everyone a better view of her new look. This was it. She was the main attraction, the star, dressed up like a present for all the horny young people. And she looked so very much like them -- if she didn't tell them, they'd never know she was on the verge of 40!

"Damn Eve's older sister is a hottie," one guy said, his voice drowned out by a sudden wolf-whistle.

"SHE'S NOT MY SISTER! SHE'S MY MOM!" Eve protested. It counted for little, and she slapped her forehead as she watched her mom jump on the nearest table.

"Remember boys, I may be a veteran cop with more than ten years in law enforcement, but I have no problem dressing like a low-class whore and losing my clothes if it means getting your cocks and money inside me." Aya bounced twice, wrapped her hand around the flapping zipper and yanked with all her might. The denim ripped away like paper, revealing her puffy wetness for all its damp appeal. She smiled as whispers flowed through the partygoers, and like a ripple in a vast ocean she had their eyes fixed on her hungry groin. "You might experience some burning, but trust me, it's not STDs, that's just my mitochondria-infested pussy setting your hormones on fire. Tell some of your favorite gals about my slut makeover, I'm sure my sponsor would love a few more pieces of property to pimp out."

"Mom, stop it!" Eve almost screamed. Her mom strutted past her peers like a runway model.

Hips sashaying, the age-stunted blonde Aya stepped off the platform and strode up to her daughter. "Come on Eve, you're the one who always said I should loosen up and stop being such a tight-ass about everything."

"I never said anything like that! I just wanted you to stop preaching to me about my responsibilities!"

"Whatever, the point is that you need to loosen up just as much as I do." Aya grabbed her daughter-turned-sister's arm and dragged her deeper into the room. Though she fought the pull, the rising scent of Aya's new eau de toilette as they struggled reached the cop's nostrils. In half a second, Aya switched to a berserker rage and threw Eve to the nearest wall. Unclipping her handcuffs from her belt, Aya wrapped them around a pole beside the wall.

CLICK!

CLICK!

"Mom! What do you think you're doing?!" Eve asked.

"What do you think? Now you HAVE to stay and watch me whore myself to all your friends. I just KNOW you'll learn to love it if you stick around for a while and play my game a little yourself."

Eve tugged at her chained, shackled wrist to break free. Every time, the metal dug into her skin, blunt in the middle and sharp on the sides. She was stuck there, standing side to side with her mom, back turned to the large group of friends she'd come to know since she started development.

"Why would I ever want to spend time 'playing' a game that involves me joining in raping everything I ever loved about you? Give me the key."

"Hehe, if you want it, you're gonna have to get it," Aya teased with a giggle.

"Alright, where is it?"

Eve regretted that question as Aya took her free hand and patted her red, hungry puffed sex. Her mouth screwed up and nose upturned in disgust at the prospect of sticking her hand anywhere near her mother's groin. She was trapped, and as she stared out at the teeming mass of drunk and horny consumers, she visibly winced an eye shut at her mother's proclamation.

"I'm so excited to show off my new game! Which of you young studs want to be the first to give me a glowing review?"

The offer sent the throng off like a starting gun in some crazy race. Shoving, punching, kicking, the unruly mass fought for the right to violate the young blonde's body first. Glass bottles shattered over heads and shouts rose up throughout the room. Observing the rioting youngsters, Aya thought of putting her profession to good use when she realized the sudden fear of using her that would bring. She came up with something better.

"OOOOHHHH!" Aya's forced moan hushed the entire crowd. They were back in a rapt-attention stare at her for whatever she had to say. "Oh god, I feel this burning in my stomach. It's so hot. Is my mitochondria responding to how much showing off and being fawned over turns me on? I never thought I would experience this evolution of my body at this age. If this keeps up I think I'll faint."

"Please mom... please stop..." Eve pleaded, to no avail.

"I need one of you young studs in my ass right now, and since you can't decide, I want Tommy over there to get first crack at MY crack."

The young man wasted no time, breaking through his party and standing behind the dolled up cop. Likewise, he quickly moved to fumble at her belt. Made of leather, the two-ring and latch buckle held strong and kept the waistband firm against her. Each of his tugs forced her ass back toward him, and unbeknownst to him, loosened the stitching and weakened the denim of her pants. As Aya's sense-heightened ears picked up on the unraveling of her clothes, she smiled to him.

"Need some help opening the packaging? It's no surprise, all of us new products wear this shrink wrap to make it hard on young boys to open us up and play the fuck out of us. Lucky for you, I came with special wrapping."

Aya forced Tommy to step away from her as she thrust her ass outward. Farther and farther back, she bent to exaggerate the curved suppleness of her rump. Groans of men and women jizzing their pants, and the ruffle of dollar bills thrown to the front to preorder their use of her already signaled the coming success of her game.

RRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIPPPPP!!

Right down her crack, the back of her pants burst wide open to show off her ass cleavage. Her sphincter flexed loose and tight, as if taunting everyone who saw it into inspecting the winking hole.

"Look what I've gone and done. I swear I can't find a decent pair of pants that can contain the greatness of my ass," Aya said. "Guess the only thing left to do now is shove something inside it!"

Tommy advanced, unzipped his fly... and paused. He looked over the cop with his erection in his hand, on the crest of sticking it in her exactly like she wanted. But right as he had it out and ready, his desires wilted.

"This isn't quite as exciting as I thought it would be."

"Oh?" Aya said. "Why's that? Was there something you wanted?"

"It's... it's not as fun if you want it," he said. "I mean it feels great to be able to have sex with a hottie like you, but when you come strutting into the apartment in slutty clothes and wave your authority as a female cop around, you... well..."

"Yes?" Aya enticingly wiggled her ass for his pleasure. Sadly, this didn't send him plunging inside her like she had hoped.

".... You come off like a skank."

Aya grinned. "Of course I come off like a skank! That's what everyone wants from a woman like me nowadays, right? A half-naked whore that loves to be undressed and gangraped by multiple targets at once until her body is on its back and down to its undies while her naked spirit floats nearby trying to find her next good lay."

"Uhh..." Tommy scratched his head, trying to make sense of whatever the hell Aya just said. "Riiiiight... anyway that might work well for people who don't mind skanks, but a lot of people don't want to spend time with women who give that impression because being around you when you're like that makes them look bad. Admitting you had sex with the easiest lay in New York isn't exactly something to be proud of, you know?"

"Oh, I get it! If I dress AND act like a whore, I won't get much use, but if I dress like a whore but act like something else then I'll rake in tons of money. But wait... if I'm not supposed to act like a whore, how should I act if I want to be treated like one?"

"MOM, this is getting way too grotesque for me to handle. Just uncuff me and let's go home, PLEASE," Eve pleaded.

For once, Tommy said, "Eve, will you stop crying for... hey, I LOVE that idea."

"What idea?" Aya asked. Her answer came swiftly.

"Aya, everyone in the world who knows about you knows how tough you are and how much of a tight-ass you used to be."

"Professional, not tight-ass. There's a difference!" Eve shouted.

"Says the tight-ass," Tommy remarked. "You're a cop, and you're an experienced one at that. If you go around offering your body freely with that authoritative attitude of yours, everyone's gonna be turned off because you intimidate them. But if you act like a wimpy crybaby that's terrified of getting into battles, then start acting confident when it's about sex instead of fighting, you'll have people lining up to use and abuse you."

"Hey, you're right!" Aya perked up. "There are tons of people out there who'd love to fuck me if they thought I was only doing it to keep them from hurting me. Even those streetwalkers outside on the curb would have a go at me, and I just know they'd stuff my pussy full of money just to rub in what a poor excuse for a police officer I've become."

"You might wanna be careful with the act though," Tommy suggested. "Some guys might get off on taking it too far."

"Nah, the store I bought these clothes from is like my pimp anyway, there's no way they'd let me die as long as they're rolling in money from whoring me out. They'll even lie through their teeth about how they want people to see me if they think admitting the truth will hurt profits. And why bother with ACTING like a crybaby? If I'm going to be like that, I'll do one better."

Aya closed her eyes. Activating the mitochondria in her body, she burned away brain cells. It was easy after the first time under store guidance; not that she would remember she ever had a different personality or life for very long. Her memory faded... faded... faded...

She blinked, her eyes readjusting to the apartment's lighting as if brand new to her. "Wh-where am I? I don't remember..." Her arm jerked aside, and when the restraint of her handcuffs made itself known, she paused to take it in. Turning her head around, she saw the throng of onlookers. Only one thought crossed her mind. "Ah! P-Please don't hurt me."

"Ah, it feels so good to hear you beg," Tommy didn't know a thing about her abilities, nor did he care. The hot piece of ass trembled before him, Aya's authority in shambles much like what would soon become of the clothes she wore to this party. "You finally know your place, Miss Brea. A pathetic excuse for a woman that shames her own name."

"Stop it!" Eve cried.

"Mommy isn't here to help you anymore. How does it feel to know you're now more of a mature respectable lady than your mother?"

"Damn you..." Eve cursed. "Once I get free-"

"You'll do nothing. All you can do is stand there and watch as everyone else assfucks what's left of the shell you used to call mom. Isn't that right, Miss Brea?"

"Do you want money?" Aya asked. "I think I have some somewhere... no wait, better! You can fuck me!"

"Oh Miss Brea, really? You'd sink that low?" Through the crazy changes to the former Aya Brea, Tommy savored each phase in its own special way. She was just about finished, in a form so perfectly depraved that none would ever think to mutter the word 'respectable' in a sentence containing her name. There was just one more test. "Aya, why do you think you're handcuffed to a wall?"

"Handcuffs? Well I didn't... oh! Are you a cop? You are, aren't you! If that's the case, I demand to be read my Amanda Rights!"

Tommy snorted. "Amanda Rights? You really DID forget everything, didn't you?"

"P-please... if you'll just let me pay with my body..."

"Enough foreplay." Tommy was undoubtedly echoing the sentiments of everyone else in attendance to his far too drawn out play with the tarted up former cop. He reared his hand back.

SMACK!

"Ooooh!" It was an unconscious act. Aya's hips bucked and circled once to the hard swat on her ass. A fiery hot tingle erupted in her pussy as she ducked her head under her handcuffed arm. The mix of perfume and armpit scent wafted from her under-arm and into her nostrils, awakening the slut within as her mitochondria-altered mind told her to react. Then as the response to Tommy's act waned, her crybaby self returned.

"C-could you not do that? It hurts..."

A harder slap landed against Aya's backside. Denim ripped away, showing off her quivering butt cheeks as she released a whorish moan. Sex-sure eyes returned their gaze to the boy as she looked back at him, trapped as she was against the wall. "Tommy, could you give a girl another boost? My ass needs a pounding like yours to knock the lady out of me, or into me, I can't decide which I'm supposed to be anymore."

"I'll give you more than one. Are you ready?"

"Ooooh yeeeees...."

Tommy grinned as the former cop cooed. Aya stood with one hip rolled toward him, enticing him to unleash the slut buried under the coward she displayed up front. Two layers of disgustingly shameful traits rolled into one package awaited his use of her.

SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK.

A flurry of spanks flew from his hand. Aya's ass bounced as her pants became ragged tatters from the point of impact all the way down to her fuck-me boots. Yet somehow, they retained their pale complexion, not a spot of red blush escaping to the surface.

"Oh yes Tommy, oh yes Tommy, oh yes Tommy." Her legs spread wider, intoxicating herself as a sheen of sweat coating her rump added to her trashy odor. The remains of her pants dampened until they fell away from her body. Once the final seams tore apart, Tommy stepped back to admire the handiwork.

Her rear jostled lightly to a stop. Between her cheeks, the promised land awaited plowing.

Tommy planted the first seed.

"NO!" Eve shrieked.

"Yeeeees!" Tommy said. "It's still tight, but half a million consumers should loosen you right up. Don't you think so, Miss Brea?"

"I'll be the loosest fuck in the world!" Aya braced herself as Tommy started working her over. His hands crept around her legs and groped her burning sex, while the former cop clutched onto one of her lone cheeks with her free palm. Tight and loose, her ass became a stress reliever for her building orgasm at the mitochondria-induced link between anal penetration and arousal.

"Man, this is so hot. I don't just get to fuck Aya in the ass, I get to fuck everything she WAS in the ass too! By the end of the night, I'll have her in a maid costume serving me her gun on a platter."

Her gun, the last mote of power she had left in her trashed state. Getting Aya in a French maid outfit and giving over the last vestige of strength she had left in a phallic symbol would be the last act to ensure her submission to him. Aya Brea, the tough cop mom who saved all of New York, would be a stupid servant tart at his beck and call, ready to make him a cup of tea or suck his dick until all of her clothes ripped away.

This thought spurned Tommy into a more heated ass-fucking as he went into overdrive. Aya's grunts bounced as much as her whole body until it happened. Tommy's seed shot full range deep inside Aya's exit. As he pulled out, white cum oozed from the gaping hole, lightly linked to the tip of Tommy's cock as he stepped back. He wiped his tip over one of the woman's butt cheeks, cock slapping the other side a couple times to get rid of the dregs before he zipped up.

"Good girl." Tommy rubbed the top of Aya's head. Staring into the sexually confident coward's radiant eyes, he cast his attention to the daughter. "Eve, stick your finger in your mom's ass."

Eve scowled. Her eyes involuntarily glanced down at Aya's ass, leaking cum down her inner thighs and pooling around her feet. At the sight, her expression dulled to blank dejection, her eyes dimming empty, her voice falling to a monotone. "No, you've already ruined her. I refuse to help you make it worse."

"Suit yourself, but don't expect me not to call you out on it when you find out how much fun it is to fuck your mom in the ass and you have to apologize for denying yourself such a great experience."

"... It's called standards."

Eve winced at the audible ass slap Tommy gave her former mom, and the weak-willed 'oooh' groan that brought from Aya's lips. Then, just as she started disconnecting her thoughts from the events surrounding her, Tommy said something that jolted her back to full awareness.

"Alright, everyone. I've broken her in, it's time for each of you to give your very own user reviews of Aya's new game."

"You can't mean that!"

"Oh, but I do. And you're going to have to watch every single one of them give their glowing reviews to your mom. Or should I say, your mom's fappable body," Tommy said. "That's all kids our age really care about, you know, busting a nut to half-naked women who think losing their clothes and showing off their underwear-covered tits and ass in public is what it means to be a sexy lady."

"That's not true! Lots of people our age like women as more than sex objects! They-"

Eve's words fell on deaf ears as a line rapidly formed along the wall to sample a little demo of the newly whorified blonde. One after another, Aya thrust her lower half out and wriggled her ass invitingly before spreading her legs as wide as possible. Every time, a new boy fumbled to unzip his growing manhood and thrust it deep into one of the woman's holes. The cowardly trembles that began the new Aya's offers transformed into a proud shaking anticipation at her growing popularity, attested to by the steady volume of cum flowing between her ass cheeks and dollar bills shoved into her pussy.

The final remarks of praise burned a hole in Eve's heart as each young man, her peers, wiped themselves off with remnants of Aya's tattered denim respect littering the floor.

"With intuitive controls and great visuals, she's good for HOURS of play!"

"I can't believe I'm scoring so high. It's almost like a... a... a HIGH SCORE!"

"I'M going for a time limit record, then I'm going to show them online!"

"I was so worried when you guys told me she's been around the block for a long time. The thought of all the experiences she must've had that I know nothing about terrified me. But now that she doesn't remember any of them, I don't have to pretend I care one bit about her past when all I really want to do is fuck her in the ass."

"Damn Eve, I never knew your mom was holding back such a good fuck. If you don't get in on this, you're going to regret it and you'll have only yourself to blame."

They were all so keen on telling her how much she'd regret not participating, citing a long list of game features ranging from a 'chance' to suck the cum out of her mom's loins to taking up a thick baton 'dying to be rammed deep into her mom's ass.' "This night couldn't get any worse."

Or so she thought.

"Wh-what are you doing?" she questioned. It didn't register to her as they uncuffed her and moved her away from the wall, until they started guiding her down between her mother's legs. It wasn't until they had her on her back that she caught on to what was happening and struggled in vain. "Stop! I told you I don't support any part of what you've done to my mother."

"Suck it up you big baby. You love her don't you?" a guy asked.

"That doesn't mean I want to see her like... like this! I'll never be able to think of my mom the same way again."

Nothing could help her escape the inevitable. Aya squatted over her with an ass full of cum. Eve struggled, but it still found its way into her mouth. She gagged and spluttered her disgust as it ran down the side of her face. "Eww this tastes awful. I can't believe all of you forced me to swallow all that."

"Stop bitching and lying to yourself," Aya said. "Kids your age love this kind of filth. If you'd stop making up reasons to complain you'd have as much fun playing my game as the rest of your friends. By the way, that'll be $50."

"WHAT?!" Eve screamed.

"You heard me young lady. Ram it in my ass good and deep, I wanna be so full of it I won't stop shitting money for a week."

The hours passed long, painful and grueling as Eve lay there. It was pure trauma. She could close her eyes, but the smell, the feel, the taste of her mom getting fucked in the ass right above her face lingered through the night. When morning came at last, she felt the cuffs click off. She stood and wobbled as she regained her balance, then gasped when she saw Aya again. She sat there, covered head to toe in white spunk, tits exposed with their natural sag with a massive cumpool between her spread legs. One pocket, one stupid little pocket, remained of Aya's pants, and it was from that pocket that the ring of Aya's cell phone went up. The tired, sweaty, cum-filthy whore calling herself Aya wormed her hand into the tight pocket with heavy effort. Retrieving the phone, she answered.

"Hello? Wh.... what? You mean I have to... I have to go help bust a drug ring? But... but there will be guns! And shooting! Please don't make me go do something like that, the thought of battle is just too much for my fragile lady-like heart to handle. Can't I fuck some men at the police station instead?"

"You're so pathetic. You're not even my mother anymore. You let them destroy everything that made you who you were..."

A tear ran down Eve's cheek. She remembered. She remembered every day of her life with her idol foster mother. She remembered riding on Aya's back to look at dinosaur bones in the museum. She remembered getting rides to school in her car. She remembered prom night, and one-on-one learning sessions, and lazy comfortable weekends watching movies with popcorn on the couch.

That woman was gone. Destroyed, by the so-called modern appeals for a woman like her to slut herself up to remain a "cool lady" in the eyes of horny teenage boys. Eve held herself for the comfort she would never get from the messy shell of a woman turned sex object that sat wearing her foster mother's face and voice like a perverted skinsuit. She swallowed hard as she made an equally strong decision.

"Aya," Eve said, "I can't do anything to save you if you don't want to be saved. I'm leaving the apartment."

---------------------

Aya leapt to sitting in a cold sweat. Her mussed sheets dripped with the intensity of her nighttime terror. With sunlight shining in her eyes from the nearby window, she startled when the door to her bedroom burst open. Her personal bundle of joy for the past ten years, all grown up into a marvelous refined beauty very much echoing herself, stood in the doorway. Creased lines of worry left her clone sister's expression taut.

"Mom! Are you alright?!" Eve asked. She wore the modest jeans and white T-shirt they bought from Squaresoft just a day prior, her feather-soft blonde hair comfortably unraveled in its natural style. "I heard so much shouting and screaming. For a second I thought you were fighting some kind of crazy PMC in your bedroom."

Aya wiped the sweat from her face and smiled, hugging her blanket to her chest.

"It was nothing," she said. "Just a really bad dream."

"I hope it wasn't as bad as your last one where you were an easily-scared amnesiac forced by an agency to jump through time and space as a spirit instead of using your mitochondria powers."

"Yeah... this wasn't as bad," Aya lied.

She rubbed her hands over her cheeks. Was that real? Was it really all a dream? She still felt the humiliating throb of a leaking, loose anus, and her perspiration felt thick as the gallons of cum that made her skin crawl and her whole body shiver.

"That was one of your craziest nightmares yet," Eve said. She slipped into the bathroom, seen brushing her hair through the mirror's reflection. "Possessing people and turning their bodies into yours so you can run around New York in the middle of winter wearing next to nothing. And that having your clothes rip off so you're almost naked thing sounded like something out of a horny little boy's Japanese hentai games."

"And the tentacle monster, don't forget the tentacle monster," Aya said.

"Yeah, as if you'd act like a scared little girl and let the soldier you were possessing get raped."

"At least I didn't grow a penis from possessing men in that nightmare, that would have been terrible."

"Mom!" the two women playfully laughed. "I'm gonna finish getting ready for school."

Aya smiled, reflecting on these fond days of their perpetual youth. "I'll be right out."