Mother of Me

Chapter 26: The Day That Was Supposed to End It All

The much-awaited NEET re-examination day finally arrived.

For the new Sangeetha ,who was still Prakash trapped in his mother’s body, this day carried the weight of an entire month of suffering. Today was supposed to be the day of freedom. The day they would reverse everything. The day she could finally shed this soft, heavy, feminine prison and return to being an 18 year old boy.

She woke up early, her heart lighter than it had been in weeks. Even while bathing, as she ran the soap over her heavy breasts and between her thighs, she whispered to herself with quiet hope, “Just a few more hours… just a few more hours and I’ll be free.”

She chose a simple but elegant light lavender cotton saree for the day. As she draped it carefully, adjusting the pallu over her deep cleavage, she even managed a small, genuine smile. For the first time in many days, she didn’t feel completely crushed. She applied her sindoor neatly, wore her mangalsutra, and completed the look with fresh jasmine flowers in her hair.

When she came out, Selvam noticed the change in her immediately.

“You look happy today, darling,” he said, pulling her close and kissing her forehead. “Any special reason?”

The new Sangeetha blushed, not from shyness, but from the secret relief blooming inside her. “Nothing… just feeling positive today,” she replied softly, even allowing herself to lean into his hug for a moment. She was in an unusually good mood, almost affectionate, knowing that by evening she would no longer have to endure his touches as “his wife.”

The new Prakash (real Sangeetha in her son’s body) was also ready. He looked focused and determined, though there was a quiet sadness in his eyes. He had worked extremely hard under Meera’s coaching for the past twenty days. He didn’t want to give up this free, light male body… but he knew he had to return it.

“Today is the day,” he whispered to his “mother” before leaving. “I’ll do my best in the exam. After that, we go straight to the lab.”

They reached the examination centre. The new Prakash went inside the hall with hundreds of other students, clutching his admit card tightly. The real Sangeetha inside him felt a strange mix of nervousness and confidence. She had studied harder than ever before.

Outside, Selvam took the new Sangeetha to a nearby café to wait. He ordered coffee and snacks, sitting close to her, his arm around her shoulder.

“It has been nearly a month since I returned,” he said, looking at her with intense eyes and a small smirk. “We’ve been distant till now. But today… everything is going to change. Don’t you think?”

The new Sangeetha felt goosebumps erupt all over her body. She forced a smile and nodded, her heart racing. She knew what he meant. But she also knew that by tonight, she would no longer be in this body. That thought gave her the strength to endure his lingering touches and meaningful glances.

Three hours later, the new Prakash came out of the examination hall, looking exhausted but satisfied.

“I think I did well, Amma,” he said with a small smile. “Better than I expected.”

The new Sangeetha’s face lit up with genuine happiness. “That’s good, Prakash. Very good.”

They made an excuse to Selvam saying they had to go to the lab for some official NEET-related paperwork. Selvam let them go, though he looked slightly suspicious.

They reached BioVita Lab with racing hearts.

Dr. Meera Nair greeted them with a warm but tired smile.

“Congratulations on reaching this far,” she said. “The transformation was a huge success. The data we collected will be revolutionary… though, unfortunately, we can’t publish any official results because this was all highly illegal,” she added with a small, humorous chuckle.

The new Sangeetha laughed nervously. “Ma’am, please… let’s reverse it now. I can’t take this anymore.”

They were taken to the transformation chamber.

The new Sangeetha undressed completely in front of the scientists without hesitation this time. She stood naked, feeling strangely happy to be shedding all the feminine things, the bra, the panty, the saree, the bangles, the mangalsutra. She looked at her breasts, her vagina, her curvy body one last time and whispered, “Goodbye…”

The machines began their work.

But something went terribly wrong.

The reversal process started normally ,but when they tried to remove the vaginal prosthetic and restore the original male genitalia, it wouldn’t come off. The special medical glue that had been used had bonded far stronger than expected due to the extended duration of the swap and hormonal changes.

On the other side, the new Prakash also faced the same issue, his penis wouldn’t detach properly from the female structure.

Meera’s face turned serious after running multiple scans.

“I’m so sorry,” she said quietly. “The adhesive has hardened much more than we anticipated. The tissues have integrated deeply. We need at least 5 to 7 more days of specialized treatment to safely reverse it without causing permanent damage.”

The new Sangeetha stood there naked, frozen in shock. All the hope that had bloomed in her heart that morning shattered completely.

“No… please…” she whispered, tears flowing down her cheeks. “I can’t… I can’t stay like this anymore…”

Meera tried to console her. “This is exactly why we need test subjects like you. These unexpected complications will help us improve the technology for future use. Your sacrifice will help many people one day.”

But those words brought no comfort.

The new Sangeetha slowly put her clothes back on, the red bra she hated so much went back on, lifting her heavy breasts once again. The black panty. The lavender saree. The mangalsutra. Everything.

She felt completely broken.

The new Prakash looked at her with deep guilt and sadness. “I’m sorry, Amma… I never wanted this to happen.”

On the way back, they stopped at Lace & Grace.

The new Sangeetha walked in looking completely devastated. Ratish noticed it immediately. While Ramya and Priya were busy with customers, he gently pulled her aside.

“Sangeetha ma… what happened? You look very sad today,” he asked softly, genuine concern in his eyes.

She couldn’t hold back. Tears welled up again. Ratish placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. “Whatever it is, you can share with me. I’m here for you.”

For a brief moment, she felt safe.

But that safety was short-lived.

The door opened. Selvam walked in, looking for his wife. His eyes immediately narrowed when he saw Ratish’s hand on her shoulder.

He forced a smile and walked over quickly.

“Ah, there you are, darling,” he said, putting his arm tightly around her waist and pulling her close to him. His grip was possessive and firm. “We should head home now.”

Ratish removed his hand immediately, sensing the tension. He looked at the new Sangeetha with worried eyes, but could do nothing.

Selvam guided his “wife” out of the shop, his hand never leaving her waist.

As they entered the car, the new Sangeetha glanced back at the shop one last time. Ratish was still standing at the door, watching her with deep concern.

The car door closed.

The cage had tightened once again.

Chapter 27: The Night the Mask Fell

The house was quiet when the new Sangeetha returned from the shop. Selvam had left earlier saying he had some work, and the new Prakash had gone for a late-night movie with friends. For the first time in many days, she was alone.

She changed out of her lavender saree into a soft, light pink cotton nighty. The fabric clung gently to her curves, her heavy breasts moving freely underneath without a bra. She removed her bangles and earrings but kept the mangalsutra on, she was too scared to take it off anymore. Exhausted, both mentally and physically, she lay on the bed, scrolling through her phone mindlessly, trying to distract herself from the constant fear that had become her life.

The clock showed 11:47 PM when she heard the main door open.

Selvam entered the bedroom. He was visibly drunk. His eyes were red, his shirt half-unbuttoned, and he carried a half-empty bottle of whiskey in his hand. The strong smell of alcohol filled the room instantly.

At first, he smiled gently.

“Sangeetha… my beautiful wife,” he slurred, sitting on the edge of the bed. He reached out and stroked her cheek tenderly. “You looked so good today. I missed you.”

The new Sangeetha forced a small smile, her body already tensing. She tried to sit up, but Selvam pushed her back down softly.

“Shhh… relax,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss her forehead.

For a few moments, his touch remained almost loving. He ran his fingers through her long hair, smelling it. Then, without warning, his expression changed.

His hand suddenly cracked across her face in a sharp, stinging slap.

THWACK!

The new Sangeetha’s head snapped to the side. Pain exploded across her cheek. Before she could scream, Selvam clamped his large, rough hand over her mouth.

“You think you can fool me, you bitch?” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “One month I’ve been patient. One month I’ve played the loving husband. But I know something is wrong with you.”

With his other hand, he yanked up her nighty roughly, exposing her thighs. He grabbed the waistband of her black panty and ripped it down her legs in one violent motion. The panty, slightly damp from a full day of wear and the earlier sanitary pad, came off completely.

He shoved the salty, musky panty into her mouth, stuffing it deep.

“Eat your own pussy smell, whore,” he hissed.

The new Sangeetha’s eyes widened in pure terror. The taste was humiliating, salty, slightly tangy, the intimate scent of her own vagina filling her mouth. She tried to scream, but only muffled sounds came out.

Selvam slapped her again. Harder.

THWACK! THWACK!

Tears streamed down her face as he tore off her nighty completely, leaving her naked on the bed. When she tried to push him away, he grabbed both her wrists and tied them tightly above her head using the saree pallu he had yanked off earlier. He then tied her ankles together, spreading her legs slightly.

Completely helpless, naked, and gagged, the new Sangeetha lay trembling.

Selvam stood up and looked at her body like a predator. He took a long swig from the whiskey bottle, then slowly began smelling her, from her hair, down her neck, licking her freshly shaved armpits with long, wet strokes of his tongue, tasting the slight saltiness of her sweat. He buried his face between her heavy breasts, inhaling deeply, then sucked hard on her nipples, biting them until she cried out into the panty gag.

“You are my property,” he growled, slapping her breasts hard, watching them jiggle. “Nothing more than a hole for me to fuck. My loyal little wife who waited eight years with her legs closed… or did you?”

He positioned himself between her tied legs. His thick, hard cock pressed against her vagina. Without any warning or lubrication, he thrust into her brutally.

The new Sangeetha’s eyes rolled back in agony. The pain was searing as he forced himself deep inside her tight, unprepared pussy. He began fucking her hard long, violent strokes that made her entire body jolt. Her heavy breasts bounced wildly with every thrust. The wet, obscene sounds of flesh slapping flesh filled the room.

While pounding into her mercilessly, he leaned down and whispered into her ear:

“I was never a mercenary, you stupid bitch. I joined a terrorist group in Afghanistan. I killed people. I made money from blood. And now I’m back… and you will remain my wife forever. You will spread your legs for me every night. You will give me children. You will obey me like a proper whore.”

He fucked her even harder, gripping her thighs bruisingly, grunting like an animal. The new Sangeetha could only cry silently, her body betraying her with unwanted wetness as her vagina was used roughly. Every thrust sent waves of pain and unwanted sensation through her core. Her tied hands struggled uselessly. The panty in her mouth kept her muffled screams contained.

After what felt like an eternity, Selvam groaned loudly and came deep inside her, filling her with hot, thick seed. He collapsed on top of her sweaty, trembling body, still buried inside her.

The new Sangeetha stared at the ceiling with dead eyes, tears flowing endlessly.

The illusion of the “changed man” had completely shattered.

The real Selvam had returned.

And there was no escape.

Chapter 28: The Volcano Erupts

The morning after the nightmare arrived with cruel brightness.

Sunlight streamed through the curtains of the bedroom, illuminating the new Sangeetha’s tear-streaked face. She lay curled up on the bed, still completely naked, her body aching in places she never wanted to think about. Her thighs were bruised. Her vagina felt sore and swollen, leaking the remnants of last night’s violation. Her heavy breasts bore red fingerprints from Selvam’s rough grip. The taste of her own panty still lingered faintly in her mouth.

Selvam woke up beside her, stretching lazily like a satisfied animal. He looked at her naked, trembling body and smirked. Without a word, he brought his large hand down hard on her plump ass, a loud, stinging spank that echoed in the room.

SMACK!

“Wake up properly, wife,” he said casually, as if it were normal. He spanked her again, harder, watching her soft flesh jiggle. “Make breakfast. And dress nicely today. My mother is watching.”

He got up, dressed quickly, and left the house without another glance, slamming the door behind him.

The new Sangeetha broke down completely the moment he was gone. She curled into a fetal position, sobbing uncontrollably. Her body shook with violent tremors. The reality hit her like a hammer:

My own father… raped me…

Even though it was her mother’s body, the psychological horror was devastating. She felt dirty, violated, and utterly broken. The mangalsutra still hung between her sore breasts, a cruel symbol of the marriage she was trapped in.

She cried for nearly an hour, whispering through sobs, “I’m supposed to be Prakash… I’m just a boy… why is this happening to me?”

The new Prakash (real Sangeetha) returned home around 9:30 AM after the late-night movie. The moment he entered the bedroom and saw his “mother” naked, curled up, and crying bitterly, his heart shattered.

“dei…!” he rushed to her side, covering her with a bedsheet. “What happened?! Tell me!”

Between broken sobs and heavy breathing, the new Sangeetha told him everything. Every slap. Every degrading word. How Selvam had ripped her panty, gagged her with it, tied her up, and raped her brutally. How he had admitted he was never a mercenary but involved with terrorists. How he planned to keep her as his wife forever.

The new Prakash listened in stunned silence. Then something powerful awakened inside him, the deep, protective motherly love that had always lived in Sangeetha’s heart. Even though he was in a male body, the fury that surged through him was purely maternal.

His hands clenched into fists. His jaw tightened. Tears of rage filled his eyes.

“That bastard…” he growled. “He touched you… he raped you… in my body!”

He pulled the new Sangeetha into his arms, holding her gently, stroking her long hair like a mother would comfort her child.

“Listen to me carefully,” he said, his voice steady despite the anger. “This is not incest. That man is not your real father biologically. I was raped when I was 15 by a distant relative. I got pregnant with you. My family didn’t want the shame, so they quickly married me off to Selvam. He only married me because my father promised money and property. He never loved me. He abused me from the beginning, beat me, forced himself on me, treated me like a slave.”

The new Sangeetha looked up with wide, tearful eyes, listening in shock.

“I made sure I could never get pregnant again after you were born,” the new Prakash continued. “I studied secretly, worked hard, became a teacher… all for you. The only reason I tolerated him for so long was for your safety. I didn’t want you to grow up without a father or see your mother destroyed completely.”

He wiped the tears from the new Sangeetha’s face.

“But now… he has crossed every limit. I will finish him. I will destroy him, even if I have to burn everything down.”

The new Sangeetha, despite her trauma, suddenly sat up with fiery determination in her eyes.

“No,” she said firmly, her voice trembling but strong. “We will bring him to justice. He told me in his drunken state that he raped many women during his time with the terrorist group. We need evidence. We need proof. I… I am willing to endure a little longer if it means we can put him behind bars forever.”

The new Prakash tried to argue, his protective instincts screaming, but the new Sangeetha was resolute.

“I have lived as you for a month. I have suffered what Amma suffered for years. I understand her pain now. We will do this the right way. For justice.”

After a long emotional discussion, the new Prakash finally nodded, though his eyes still burned with rage.

That evening, Selvam returned home drunk again.

He entered the bedroom with a lecherous smile, already unbuttoning his shirt, clearly intending to continue where he left off the previous night.

The new Sangeetha was lying on the bed in her nighty, pretending to be asleep, her body tense with fear.

Just as Selvam climbed onto the bed and reached for her, the door opened.

The new Prakash walked in.

“Appa… I had a nightmare,” he said in a soft, emotional voice. “Can I sleep with you both tonight? Please… like old times.”

Selvam looked irritated, but he couldn’t refuse in front of his “son.” He grunted and shifted to the side.

The new Prakash lay down in the middle, between Selvam and the new Sangeetha.

For the first time in many nights, the new Sangeetha felt a small sense of safety. Her “son” her real mother was acting as a shield.

Selvam grumbled but eventually fell asleep.

In the darkness, the new Sangeetha reached out and held the new Prakash’s hand tightly under the blanket.

They lay there mother and son, swapped, broken, but united in their quiet resolve.

The volcano had erupted.

Now they would make sure it buried the monster beneath its ash.

Chapter 29: The Mission Begins

The twelfth day after Selvam’s true nature had revealed itself dawned with a fragile but determined resolve in Satyamoorthy Residence.

The new Sangeetha woke up early, her body still aching from the previous night’s violation. Bruises had started forming on her thighs and upper arms, dark fingerprints left by Selvam’s rough grip. Her vagina felt tender and sore, a constant painful reminder. She moved slowly as she got out of bed, wincing with every step. The mangalsutra felt heavier than ever, like a chain around her neck.

She bathed quickly, avoiding looking at herself too long in the mirror. The sight of her mother’s naked body ,now marked by another man’s lust, made her feel sick. She dressed in a simple soft blue cotton saree, draping it carefully to hide the bruises on her arms. She applied extra powder to conceal the redness on her cheek from the slap.

Selvam was still asleep. Pattamma was already in the hall, issuing orders about breakfast. The new Sangeetha cooked silently, serving everyone with downcast eyes. Selvam eventually woke up, ate without speaking much, and left for some “work,” giving her a possessive kiss on the cheek before going.

As soon as he left, the new Sangeetha told the new Prakash, “I’m going to the shop today. I need to talk to Ratish.”

The new Prakash nodded. “I’ll stay here and search the house for evidence documents, phone records, anything that can prove what he really is.”

They shared a quiet, determined look before she left.

At Lace & Grace, the familiar scent of fabric, perfume, and rose sachets greeted her like a hesitant embrace.

The moment she stepped inside, Ratish looked up from behind the counter. His gentle eyes immediately noticed the stiffness in her walk, the way she held her pallu tighter than usual, and the faint redness on her cheek despite the powder.

“Sangeetha ma…” he said softly, concern evident in his voice. “You don’t look okay. What happened?”

Ramya and Priya were busy with customers at the front. Ratish gently led her to the small back room where they kept new stock.

The new Sangeetha sat down on a stool, her hands trembling in her lap. For a long time, she couldn’t speak. Then the words started pouring out carefully edited, but raw with pain.

“My husband… he is not the man he pretends to be,” she whispered. “He has been abusing me. Physically. Last night… he forced himself on me. He slapped me. He tied me up. He said horrible things. He admitted he was involved with terrorists abroad… that he raped women there. He says I belong to him forever.”

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she spoke. She didn’t mention the body swap, that secret remained locked between her and her “son.”

Ratish listened in stunned silence. His face went from concern to pure fury. His gentle hands clenched into fists.

“How can anyone do this to you?” he said, his voice shaking with anger. “You are such a wonderful woman, kind, patient, hardworking. You raised Prakash alone for eight years. You deserve respect, not this violence. That man doesn’t deserve you.”

Without thinking, Ratish stepped forward and pulled her into a warm, protective hug. His arms wrapped around her gently, careful not to hurt her bruises. The new Sangeetha stiffened at first, but then relaxed slightly, burying her face in his shoulder. For the first time in many days, she felt genuinely safe. Ratish smelled of mild soap and fresh clothes a comforting, non-threatening scent.

“I’m here for you,” he whispered. “Whatever you need evidence, support, a safe place l will help. You are not alone anymore.”

They stayed like that for a long moment. When they separated, Ratish looked at her with quiet determination. “We will find a way to stop him. I promise.”

The new Sangeetha felt a small spark of hope. She now had one strong ally outside the house.

Later that afternoon, she called Meera from the shop’s back room.

Meera listened carefully and agreed immediately. “I’m with you. We’ll gather evidence discreetly. The reversal is still delayed, but we can use this time to build a strong case against him. Be careful. Document everything.”

Two allies now stood with them.

Back at home, the new Prakash had spent the entire day carefully searching Selvam’s bags, his old phone (which he had left behind), and hidden pockets in his clothes. He found some suspicious foreign numbers, a few encrypted messages, and a small notebook with coded entries. It wasn’t enough yet, but it was a start.

That night, the tension returned.

Selvam came back drunk again. He entered the bedroom with clear intent, his eyes roaming over the new Sangeetha’s body hungrily as she lay in her nighty.

But before he could climb onto the bed, the new Prakash entered the room.

“Appa… I had another nightmare,” he said, sounding convincingly scared. “Can I sleep between you both tonight? Please…”

Selvam looked annoyed, but once again, he couldn’t refuse. He shifted to one side with a grunt.

The new Prakash lay down in the middle, creating a human shield between Selvam and the new Sangeetha.

In the darkness, the new Sangeetha reached out and held her “son’s” hand tightly under the blanket. For the second night in a row, the real mother protected her child by placing herself as a barrier.

Selvam eventually fell asleep, frustrated but silent.

The new Sangeetha whispered softly in the darkness, “Thank you… Amma.”

The mission had truly begun.

They were no longer just surviving.

They were fighting back.

Chapter 30: Gentle Hearts in the Storm

The following days settled into a strange, fragile rhythm. While the shadow of Selvam and Pattamma loomed over the house like a dark cloud, the new Sangeetha found small pockets of peace at Lace & Grace. The shop had slowly become her emotional anchor.

The Sangeetha & Ratish Arc

One particular afternoon, the shop was relatively quiet. Ramya had taken Priya to the doctor for a minor check-up, leaving Ratish and the new Sangeetha alone to manage things.

Ratish moved with his usual quiet diligence. He carefully arranged new arrivals, soft satin nighties, lace bras, and cotton panties, folding each piece with gentle precision. His tall, slightly lean frame moved gracefully behind the counter. There was a calmness in him that the new Sangeetha had come to cherish.

“Sangeetha ma,” he said softly, noticing her staring into space while folding salwars, “you’ve been quiet since morning. Is everything alright at home?”

She gave a small, tired smile and shook her head. “It’s… complicated, Ratish.”

He didn’t push. Instead, he brought her a glass of cold rose milk from the nearby shop and placed it in front of her without a word. When she tried to thank him, he simply smiled and continued working.

Over the next few days, his care became more evident. He would notice when her pallu slipped or when she looked uncomfortable adjusting her blouse. He never stared inappropriately. Instead, he would quietly bring a safety pin or suggest she sit down when she looked tired. When heavy boxes arrived, he always carried them himself, refusing to let her strain her back.

One evening, as they were closing the shop, the new Sangeetha finally opened up a little more.

“Ratish … you are very kind. Why do you care so much?”

Ratish paused while pulling down the shutter. He looked at her for a long moment, his gentle eyes softening.

“Because I see a good woman who has suffered a lot,” he said quietly. “And because… I have feelings for you, Sangeetha. I know it’s wrong. You are married. You have a son. But ever since you started working here, I couldn’t help it. I admire your strength, your patience, the way you smile even when you’re hurting.”

The new Sangeetha’s heart skipped a beat. She looked at him, stunned.

Ratish continued, his voice low and honest. “I lost my wife three years ago. She died in an accident. For a long time, I thought I would never feel anything again. But when you came… something woke up inside me. I know I can never have you. I just… I want to protect you. Even if it’s only as a friend.”

He looked down, embarrassed but sincere. “I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable.”

The new Sangeetha felt a strange warmth in her chest. In this hellish situation, Ratish’s quiet, respectful affection felt like a ray of light. She didn’t know how to respond as Prakash, but as Sangeetha, she simply placed a gentle hand on his arm.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “You don’t know how much your kindness means to me right now.”

The Prakash & Priya Arc

Meanwhile, the new Prakash had been visiting the shop more often, partly to check on his “mother” and partly because of Priya.

Priya, Ramya’s 17-year-old daughter, was bright, bubbly, and confident. She had taken a liking to the new Prakash ever since the wig incident weeks ago. They would sit in the corner of the shop during breaks, talking for hours.

“You’re so different from other boys,” Priya told him one evening while they were arranging stock together. “You actually listen when I talk about college stress and future plans. Most guys only want to talk about cricket or movies.”

The new Prakash smiled shyly. Being in a male body and interacting with a girl his age felt strangely new and exciting. Priya’s laughter, her playful teasing, and the way she looked at him made something flutter in his chest.

They started texting regularly. Priya would send him study tips, funny reels, and sometimes heartfelt messages about her dreams of becoming a fashion designer. The new Prakash found himself looking forward to her messages, a small escape from the tension at home.

One day, while helping at the shop, Priya playfully bumped his shoulder.

“You know… you’re kinda cute when you’re focused,” she teased.

The new Prakash blushed deeply, something he never did as the real Sangeetha. Their friendship was slowly blossoming into something sweeter, gentler, and full of innocent teenage warmth.

Back at home, the tension remained high.

Pattamma continued her controlling ways, while Selvam’s behavior grew increasingly possessive. He would touch the new Sangeetha inappropriately when no one was looking , squeezing her waist, brushing against her breasts, whispering dirty things in her ear.

But now, she had hope.

She had Ratish’s quiet support.

She had Meera working on the reversal and gathering evidence.

And most importantly, she had her real mother’s fierce determination burning inside the new Prakash.

Every night, when Selvam tried to get close, the new Prakash would cleverly intervene, either by having nightmares or by staying up late studying, creating a barrier between them.

The mission was slowly gaining strength.

The new Sangeetha looked at herself in the mirror one night, adjusting her nighty. Despite the bruises and the fear, there was a new fire in her eyes.

“This will not break me,” she whispered to her reflection. “We will win.”