Matt pointed the wand out the window at young Brett and said, "I wish Brett found me sexually irresistable."
A wave of dizziness passed over him, and Matt stuck out a hand to steady himself - and saw it was not his hand.
Going over to his mother's vanity table mirror, Matt saw that 'he' was now a 'she', maybe 25 or so, with short dark blonde hair and firm, round breasts almost as large as her - that is, HER - head. One squeeze confirmed the breasts' sensitivity, while a quick hand down the shorts confirmed the absence of a penis.
And he knew this face, too. He had seen it in pictures on the few occasions he had been inside the DeSoto house. It was the body and face of Gretchen DeSoto, dead now for thirteen years.
"This is what Brett finds sexually irresistable??" Matt wondered outloud, then chuckled. "What a little perv - has the hots for his own mom, and she's dead!"