Read previous: Part 7
Time flew by.
"The day before yesterday I was a man. Yesterday I became a woman. Today… I am a wife."
The wedding finally arrived. The bells were ringing, the air was thick with tension, and my nerves were about to explode. Months of preparation had left my hormones completely crazy and the stress was killing me. But all of that disappeared the moment I saw myself in the mirror wearing the wedding dress. It was beautiful. White, elegant, perfect. For a second it was hard to recognize that the body I was looking at was the same one that once belonged to my daughter.
When the moment came to walk down the aisle, it was her who gave me away. My daughter, inside my old body, taking the role that in another time would have belonged to me. I felt a pang of sadness seeing her. Her expression was serious, almost restrained… but a slight smile appeared on her lips. In that moment I understood that, despite everything she still hadn’t forgiven, she was willing to let me go. Even if only for today.
The ceremony was beautiful. We read our vows with broken voices. We promised to take care of each other, love each other, and build a life together despite how absurd and painful the path had been. When Tom kissed me, the world stopped for a second. We were no longer just two people who were attracted to each other. We were husband and wife.
Thinking about those years when I was married to my daughter’s mother brought a strange sense of familiarity. But this time… this time I felt more complete than I had ever felt before.
And then came the most anticipated part: the honeymoon.
We had reserved three days on a private island as part of the exclusive newlywed package. That meant absolute privacy. No guests. No distractions. Just the two of us… and well, the island staff.
From the moment we arrived I noticed Tom was restless. The second the door to the room closed, his self-control shattered.
There were no words. Only desire.
He pushed me against the wall and kissed me with a wild urgency. His hands tore the dress as if it had no value. I felt the cool air on my naked skin while he lifted me as if I weighed nothing. He carried me to the bed and spread my legs with one hand.
“You’re mine now,” he growled against my neck. “Completely mine.”
His cock entered me in one single deep thrust. I moaned loudly, clinging to his shoulders while he fucked me without mercy. Every thrust was more intense than the last. The wet sound of our bodies colliding filled the entire room. He turned me around, put me on all fours and used me like his personal toy, pulling my hair and spanking my ass hard.
Right after that Tom decided to play the macho husband role — it was a roleplay we did when we wanted to add a little “spice” to the night. Playing the helpless wife before her beast of a husband awakened a level of excitement I had never experienced before. I had mixed feelings: I felt vulnerable, weak, small… and of course, extremely horny. We didn’t even stop when room service arrived. The butlers came in, left the food and left as fast as they could while Tom kept thrusting into me without mercy, not caring that they were watching us. In fact, that made him commit even more to the beast-husband role and he took the chance to claim me as his. With his strong arms he showed me the enormous difference in strength when, without any effort, he lifted me and turned me into his personal onahole. That night my stomach ended up full… but not with food.
The next three days were a chaos of desire. On the beach, in the courtyard, in the jacuzzi, even in the bathroom of a nearby restaurant. There was no place where we didn’t end up fucking like animals. At some point, half-joking, I had suggested trying something to “improve performance.” I don’t know exactly how much he took… but that night I felt like I was flying.
By the time the honeymoon ended I could barely walk. I had to go back in a wheelchair because my legs wouldn’t respond. And even so, if they asked me if I would do it again… I wouldn’t hesitate for a second.
A few months after that experience, the news that changed everything arrived.
I was pregnant.
The idea of having a baby hit me like a bucket of cold water. For a moment I felt the world stop. How could I be a mother using my own daughter’s body? What kind of life was I giving that child? But for Tom it was exactly the opposite: a dream come true. He hugged me with an almost desperate strength and kissed my forehead over and over, repeating that we were forming a real family.
It was clear I had to tell my daughter the news. I didn’t want to do it over the phone. A few days later I went to see her in person. We had kept talking since the wedding — not with the frequency of before, but at least there was no longer that absolute silence from back then. When I told her, I expected a harsh reaction… but that wasn’t the case.
She stayed quiet for a few seconds and then let out a short, almost incredulous laugh.
“Well… what a coincidence,” she said. “Laura is pregnant too.”
I froze.
“Really?”
“Yes. Three months.” She smiled sideways. “So… we’re going to have kids almost at the same time.”
We looked at each other and suddenly the situation seemed so absurd that we started laughing. A nervous laugh at first, and then a more genuine one.
“Think about the mess,” she said between laughs. “I’m going to be the grandfather and the brother at the same time. You’re going to give birth to your own nephew… or niece. And that baby is going to be the brother or sister of my father who is at the same time his mother, and I’ll be his sister who’s in the original body of his mother — which is my father. Who the hell understands this?”
We kept laughing for a while, until the tears escaped. Not only from laughter. Also from relief.
When we finally calmed down, she looked at me more seriously, but without resentment.
“I’m not going to lie to you. There are still days when I think about what my life could have been without the Great Change. But… I don’t want to fight against this anymore. We’ve stayed in contact after the wedding and, even if it’s weird, it feels less heavy. If this baby is born, it’ll be family. And I’m also going to be a father… or a mother… or whatever comes out of all this.”
She hugged me. It was an awkward, strange hug between two bodies that no longer belonged to the people they once were. But it was real.
Months later our daughter, Ashley, was born.
I held her for the first time in my arms and felt something I can’t describe with words. She was small, adorable, perfect. Tom was by my side, eyes moist, kissing my head while murmuring that we were a family.
Shortly after, my daughter and Laura’s son was born. Two cousins… or siblings… or whatever logic could no longer explain, growing up almost at the same time.
Years passed.
My daughter continued her life with Laura. We never told her the full truth. They built something stable, imperfect, but real. We saw each other from time to time. There was distance. There were silences. But there was also something that resembled, even if only faintly, peace.
I raised Ashley with Tom. I watched her grow, laugh, dream… exactly as I once watched my daughter grow. The difference is that this time I was inside the body that had brought her into the world. Sometimes, when I watched her sleep, a wave of guilt so strong invaded me that I could barely breathe. But there was also love. A lot of love.
One night, years later, while Tom slept beside me and our daughter rested in her room, I stayed staring at the ceiling.
I thought about everything I had lost.
I thought about everything I had gained.
I thought about the woman I am and the man I once was.
And for the first time in a long time, I didn’t try to choose between the guilt and the happiness.
I simply let them coexist.
Because that… was my life now.
Tom’s wife.
Ashley’s mother.
And, in some strange way…
myself.
I was just me in my daughter’s body…
No.
I was just me in MY body.
The End.
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