MILF wants to mutate 02 (Patreon)

The next morning, Evelyn woke before her alarm. It was the weekend, and she had the house to herself—her husband was away on a long business trip, her college-age daughter off camping with friends. Normally she would have slept in, but something had her far too keyed up to doze off again.

“I just hope she isn’t a scammer… or something worse,” she murmured, thinking of the meeting she’d arranged for that afternoon with a woman who claimed to be interested in her situation—interested enough to suggest she might even be able to help. Maybe she held the key that would finally allow Evelyn to mutate.

After breakfast and getting ready, she chose an outfit that felt elegant but comfortable. She studied herself in the mirror and smiled.

“Okay, let’s have a little faith today.”

She grabbed her purse and headed for the mall.

With half an hour to spare before meeting her supposed benefactor, Evelyn wandered the shopping center. She couldn’t stop looking at every mutant woman who passed. Though she loved her husband, she couldn’t deny that she found mutant girls incredibly attractive. She looked at them with a strange mixture of desire and envy—thoughts she considered more than a little naughty for a married woman pushing forty.

“Damn, four arms would be really useful right now,” she muttered as a girl with four generous breasts walked past.

“Now those are hips I’m seriously jealous of,” she thought, watching a beautiful three-legged woman move rhythmically down the corridor.

She tried to focus and rein in her imagination, until she found herself in front of a shoe shop specializing in women’s footwear.

In the display window were two identical pairs of high heels. Same design, same elegant details, roughly four inches tall. The only difference was the color.

Evelyn stared at them for a long moment. Then she took a small step to the side, trying to line up her reflection with the heels in the glass.

It was easy to imagine herself wearing both pairs at once—black heels on her front legs, red ones on the second pair her mind was already conjuring just behind them.

“Shit, I’d look gorgeous as a humantaur.”

Four long, elegant, perfectly proportioned legs extending down from her body. Evelyn pictured herself walking in the heels, smiling at her imaginary reflection.

“How did it work again? Oh, right. If I move my front right leg, I should move my rear left leg too, and vice versa. They say it becomes pretty intuitive once you mutate.”

She imagined learning to coordinate four legs and wearing two miniskirts, one around each pair. At thirty-nine, her legs were still lovely. Sure, she’d spend more on shoes, but four gorgeous legs would be worth it.

She let out a soft giggle, captivated by the vivid image.

“God, they’re beautiful.”

“Aren’t they? That model just came in yesterday in those two colors.”

The voice made Evelyn jump. Beside her, a shoe store employee smiled kindly.

“S-sorry?” Evelyn stammered.

“The heels. You’ve been staring at them for a while. You said they were beautiful.”

Evelyn glanced back at the display and tried to play it off. “Yeah, very much. They’re gorgeous.”

“Would you like to try them in a particular size?”

Evelyn nodded, slightly embarrassed.

She went inside the store and, a few minutes later, emerged carrying both pairs. She didn’t need them, but she wasn’t about to pass up the chance to continue her fantasy at home.

Evelyn headed toward the café where she was to meet her contact. As she approached, she noticed her crotch was noticeably damp from her shoe-store daydream.

“I really need to get my fantasies under control… if that’s even possible,” she told herself before stopping by the restroom to deal with her little moisture problem.

A short while later, she arrived at the café. She scanned the room for someone matching the description they’d agreed upon, and after a few seconds she spotted her.

A beautiful woman around forty sat beside the window, dark hair streaked with silver, thin-framed glasses, calm and intelligent expression.

When Evelyn approached, the woman looked up and smiled warmly.

“Evelyn?”

“Yes, that’s me. Are you Emma?”

“That’s right. A pleasure,” she said, extending a hand. “Have a seat. We have a lot to talk about.”

Over coffee, Evelyn got to know Emma better. She wasn’t merely an enthusiast of mutant phenomena; she was a prominent researcher specializing in the mutant gene, with several published papers to her name. Emma explained that she’d spent the last couple of years studying late-onset mutations—cases in which dormant mutant genes suddenly activated decades later.

“You must think I’m some kind of freak for wanting to mutate this much,” Evelyn said.

“I don’t think it’s that unusual. On paper, a mutation is a stressful and potentially inconvenient event, but I can understand why some people might find it… exciting, for lack of a better word.”

“Yeah, exciting is the word,” Evelyn said. “The truth is, I have a really hard time controlling my imagination when it comes to the mutations I want.”

“You imagine them on your own body? What kinds?”

“Well… all of them. I can’t decide. I start imagining them happening to my body until I’m practically inside some kind of lucid dream. I can almost feel them. Too weird?”

Emma laughed softly.

“Genetics may be my field, but I’d say your desire to mutate is simply a peculiar and completely healthy part of your sexuality. As long as it doesn’t interfere with your daily life or relationships, you have nothing to worry about.”

“That makes me feel better,” Evelyn replied.

“Your case is particularly interesting,” Emma continued, reviewing the old test results Evelyn had brought. “These indicate you were genuinely very close to mutating. Do you have anything more recent? The last one is over ten years old.”

“No, I haven’t had any more tests. At some point I figured there was no point. I was pregnant, and even those hormonal changes didn’t trigger anything. But if you think it’s necessary, I can go sometime this week and get another one.”

“I’d rather run the test myself,” Emma said. “I’ll need some DNA.”

“DNA? What do you mean?”

“A small lock of hair,” Emma said, pulling sample containers from her purse, “and some saliva.”

Evelyn snipped off a small lock of hair and filled one container with saliva. Emma placed the samples in an airtight case.

“I hope you find something that can help me mutate.”

“The only thing I can promise is that I’ll do everything I can to determine why you haven’t mutated. And if I find something, then maybe—just maybe—we can look for a way to trigger it.”

They said a warm goodbye, and Evelyn headed home with renewed hope.

Once home, Evelyn started undressing. She still had a few days to herself, and she intended to make the most of them.

She opened her shopping bags and took out the new heels. Even if the purchase had been impulsive, she didn’t regret it. They were definitely sexy.

She slipped a black heel onto her right foot and a red one onto her left, confirming they were identical apart from color.

She looked down at her feet, ideas already forming in her hyperactive mind.

“With different-colored heels, it almost looks like my legs belong to two different people… like I fused with someone.”

As the thought took hold, she began caressing her body. She went to her vanity and put bracelets of different styles around each wrist. Then she found some quick-drying nail polish and painted the nails of one hand to reinforce the fantasy.

“Shit, it would be so hot to fuse with someone. A fusion right down the middle,” she said to herself. “Emma would make a really good fusion partner. She’s attractive and intelligent.”

Evelyn looked in the mirror and focused as intensely as she could. Within seconds, she could visualize the right half of her face as Emma’s, even including the dark hair with silver streaks.

“It’s so great having you here, Emma,” said the right half of her head.

“The pleasure is all mine, my dear Evelyn,” replied the left. “It’s genuinely fascinating to be part of such a sexy fusion.”

Evelyn—or rather, the fusion of Evelyn and Emma—walked sensually toward the living room sofa, enjoying the click of her new heels on the wooden floor.

“I love being fused with you.”

“So do I,” “Emma” replied. “I’m glad I could help you with your mutation.”

“In the end, I guess you didn’t even need to collect samples of my DNA.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I put your genetic material to very good use.”

Evelyn’s left hand—Emma’s—gestured toward the door.

Evelyn imagined two completely naked, smiling copies of herself entering the room.

“Wow! You used my DNA to make clones of me.”

“Of course, my dear Evelyn. Now they’ll be our assistants while we devote ourselves to more important things. They can take care of the house and your job.”

“Great, but right now I think I need a different kind of service.”

Evelyn let herself fall onto the sofa as she visualized her clones sitting on either side. They smiled at her, then leaned in and began sucking vigorously on her breasts.

“Oh, yes. This is a much better use for them,” said “Emma.”

“Absolutely,” Evelyn replied. “But we can make it even better.”

Evelyn focused on imagining two enormous penises sprouting just above her vagina. The clones smiled lustfully, each grabbing one of the new penises and eagerly taking it into her mouth.

“OH, FUCK!” Evelyn cried out.

“This feels so good!” “Emma” exclaimed.

The clones released “Evelyn-Emma’s” penises, which now stood erect like enormous flagpoles. With a knowing laugh, the two copies positioned themselves back-to-back and mounted both penises at once, moving up and down energetically.

“Oh God, oh God!” Evelyn and Emma cried as the clones rode them wildly. “I… I… I’M CUMMING!”

Both penises released inside the clones, who screamed in pleasure at the same instant the Evelyn-Emma fusion reached orgasm. The climax was so intense Evelyn felt her mind shut down for a second.

She snapped back to reality, sweaty and exhausted. Obviously alone, neither fused nor surrounded by clones. Just her—naked, wearing mismatched heels, with a puddle on the floor and sofa serving as unmistakable evidence of a powerful orgasm.

“Oh, damn. Looks like I squirted,” she thought, catching her breath. “I’d better clean this before it leaves a permanent stain.”

She got up to fetch cleaning supplies. As she walked, she rather enjoyed the sensation of her fluids running down her inner thighs.

It had been a very good fantasy.

“The only problem,” Evelyn thought, “is that I have no idea what kind of face I’m going to make the next time I see Emma, because I think I’m going to keep using her in a fantasy or two.”

After cleaning up, she walked to her bedroom, took off the heels, and collapsed naked and sweaty onto the bed.

Before exhaustion pulled her under, one final thought crossed her mind.

“I can’t wait for those test results… although I wouldn’t complain if she actually made some clones.”

She smiled at the thought and drifted off to sleep.