Issac stood frozen in the hallway, the weight of his new, unfamiliar body still settling over him like a thick blanket. The powerful frame, the deepened voice, even the way his shirt clung differently to his chest—none of it felt quite real yet. But what shook him more wasn't the change in himself, but the sight before him: Mike—no, Michelle now—standing at the computer, examining the program with curious eyes.
"Mike?" Issac said, his voice deep and firm. "What did you do?"
Michelle turned, blinking slowly, as if adjusting to the higher center of gravity and longer limbs. Her newly styled auburn hair bounced lightly around her face. "I... I clicked the role reversal option. I thought it would just swap who brought home the paycheck."
Issac crossed the room in a few long strides. His large hand gently pushed Michelle away from the keyboard before hitting the sleep button. Too risky.
He turned to face her—his wife, now. That realization sank in with an unexpected thud. His wife. The person he used to call Dad.
Michelle tilted her head, confused by his silence. "Are you okay?"
Issac swallowed, unsure how to answer. "I don't know," he said finally. "I should be mad, I think. But I'm not."
His gaze dropped briefly to Michelle's figure. She had grown taller, more statuesque—still soft around the face, still Mike in some ways, but unmistakably a woman now. Strong, confident, beautiful in a sharp, clean way that stirred something unexpected in him. The way she placed a hand on her hip reminded him of how he himself used to stand as Isabelle, demanding order in the chaos of their home.
Michelle stepped closer. "You look good, Issac. Weird to say it, but you do."
Issac chuckled nervously, the sound low and rough. "Yeah. Thanks, You Too Stunning."
A moment of silence passed. Michelle blushed & smiled, then hesitated. "You okay with... all this?"
Issac scratched his beard—his beard, for crying out loud. "It’s confusing. You were my husband. And now... you're my wife?"
Michelle's expression softened. "I’m still me. But yeah, I get it. This is weird."
Issac looked away, wrestling with the rising warmth in his chest and lower. He didn’t want to admit it, not out loud, but Michelle was... attractive. Not in the way he thought about women when he was Jeff, or Isabelle, but in the way someone who'd shared a life might look at someone and still find something new.
"It's just... hard to line up the feelings in my head with what I see."
Michelle stepped forward. "You don't have to decide anything right now. I think the program might have deepened our romantic connection—I feel... closer to you, somehow. Like I want to be near you, touch you. But only if you're okay with it."
Issac looked at her again, saw the sincere concern in her eyes. He nodded slowly. Before leaning in for a kiss He couldn't resist her beauty, the way her eyes sparkled the way her breasts leaned and pressed against His body
As the kids remained out, still unaware of the changes that had swept through the house, Issac found himself pacing the living room. The body he now inhabited was solid and strong, his footsteps resonating through the floorboards with unfamiliar weight of the kiss they just shared. Muscles flexed beneath his skin as he adjusted to a frame that was no longer soft, no longer curved—no longer feminine.
And yet, it was Michelle who stole his focus. Michelle—the powerful, confident woman who had been his husband. Who had, just this morning, been Mike His Father! Who now moved with the quiet grace of a lioness, hair tied up, eyes sharp, and lips curled into a knowing smile.
Issac tried to resist the rising heat that burned inside him, but it was undeniable. His wife was beautiful. Commanding. Electrifying. She—Michelle—was taller now, with a strength in her shoulders and a new kind of authority in her voice that made Issac's heart race. It was wrong. It was confusing. But it was also irresistible.
When she left the bedroom and the computer following behind Issac, Michelle caught Issac staring at her. Their eyes locked. Silence stretched between them, charged and pulsing still reeling from the kiss they shared as she moved toward him with a look that knew exactly what she was doing.
"You okay, honey?" she asked, her voice low and sultry.
Issac hesitated. "I don't know. I... You look good. Too good."
Michelle tilted her head. "You keep looking at me like you're going to pounce."
Issac's breath caught in his throat. The words came before he could stop them. "Maybe I am."
Michelle closed the distance, their bodies brushing as the tension snapped like a rubber band. Her hand slid over his chest—his new, broad, muscular chest—and he shivered. She leaned in, lips grazing his neck, breasts pressed against his rock hard chest fully aware of what She was doing what she was inviting .
"Then stop thinking," she whispered, "and do it."
And he did.
The passion was wild. Raw. Issac felt like an animal caged too long. Every touch from Michelle set his nerves alight. Her nails on his back, her mouth trailing kisses along his collarbone—it tore through every barrier he tried to maintain. There was no time to think, only feel. He lifted her easily, surprised at his own strength or by how light She was, as they crashed onto the couch, tangled together in frantic need.
As they made love, Issac's mind warred with itself. This was Michelle. But it had been Mike His Father?. And he had been Isabelle. Had been a wife. A mother. Yet now, he gripped her hips with masculine power, kissed her with hungry need, and gave in to the undeniable truth: he wanted her.
He loved her.
The confusion became part of the thrill—the fact that she was still the same person beneath it all. That they were still connected, even if the rules of their world had been flipped inside out. As their bodies moved together, he realized something profound:
It wasn’t the form. It wasn’t the label. It was her.
Michelle.
he same laughter. The same fire. And somehow, in this new form, she burned even brighter.
Afterward, they lay entangled, sweat cooling between them. Michelle ran her fingers through Issac’s short hair, smiling up at him.
"Still confused?" she asked gently.
He nodded, then laughed softly. "Yeah. But I’m also... really damn happy."
Michelle kissed him again, slower this time. Deeper. And Issac knew, whatever else had changed, the love was real. And maybe, that was all that mattered.