You had to find some help. Fast. Karl, a classmate of yours, lived close by. Last steam summer sale the two of you camped in his parents basement for a week or two, doing nothing but playing games and avoiding sunlight. If he couldn't help, at the very least you'd be with a friend. You really needed a familiar face, someone to confirm you're not losing it.
A short time later, you're ringing the doorbell of Karl's place. His mother, Donna, opens the door. She's a housewife in her forties, not exactly a milf but she has visited you in your fantasies from time to time. You hesitate, blushing at the unchaste thoughts suddenly entering your mind. She doesn't recognize you in the slightest, and takes your hesitation for shyness. By appearance, you're hardly distinguishable from a regular nun, albeit a rather busty one.
"Oh. It's collection time again? I'll just go get my wallet." She says as she sees your habit. "Don't you usually come in flocks? I mean groups." She quickly corrects, then looks at you quizzically.
"Oh, no! No, I'm not here for your generosity." You say, both the effects of the transformation and the fact that she's a mom kicking you into polite mode. "I am looking for Karl, is he in?"
Her face shifts to a look of concern. "He's downstairs, why? What did he do?"
"He was very helpful at the homeless shelter last Saturday."You lie off the top of your head. Neither you nor Karl would ever even consider helping out at the shelter. "I told him I'd pay him a visit when I was in the neighborhood." You try your most serene smile. Donna nods and steps aside. "Very well. He's in the basement." She points you in the right direction. You thank her and quickly go downstairs.
Karl is sitting in his usual slothful position on the couch. A bowl of cheerio's and a bottle of Gatorade close by. The smell of armpits is... well... unbearable. You don't remember it being this strong and repulsive before. You swallow, and push through the dank air.
"Karl!" You say as he pauses the game and turns to you curiously. "I need your help."
"Who are you?" His eyes have difficulty staying focused on your face, shifting constantly down to your well-filled habit.
You sigh. How to bring it to him. You've been thinking on how to tell him what's happening, but so far you've been grasping nothing but straws.
"I'm Mike..." You simply state. "...and I need you to change me back."
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