Help! My Mom Wants To Take Over The World! - Chapter 12

Some like superpowers, while others prefer tales featuring shrink stuff. And some (like me) dig both. Recently, a patron who only joined my page for the superpowered stories brought to my attention that it's not always easy to distinguish which stories contain shrink stuff and which do not.

And he's right. It ain't.

Some stories of mine solely contain shrinking content, while others are all about superpowers and some are a combination of the two. Therefore, I will, as of this update, add a tag No Size Stuff when there is no such thing present in the chapter. While the ones who do have it, I will make sure to add the tag Shrinking.

Terry is preparing for his inauguration.

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Terry huffed and sank into the chair, glaring at his reflection in the mirror. His stylist, Priscilla, who was busy modeling his hair, watched him intently as he glanced longingly at the bottle of vodka on the side table before returning his gaze to hers. "Fuck it. Give it to me."

Priscilla cocked a brow. "You know what the Goddess said, don't you?"

"I don't care what the God... What my goddamn mom said!" Terry breezed. "Hand it over right now, Priscilla! Or I'm going to tell her that you... That you tried to choke me with that pink comb of yours!"

Priscilla gave him a skeptical look. "Is a thing like that even possible?"

Terry's voice deepened to an ominous tone. "Oh, trust me, Priscilla. It is."

Priscilla shook her head incredulously before reluctantly grabbing the bottle. She unscrewed the cap and gave Terry a mischievous glare before taking a swig herself before passing it to his awaiting hand.

Her face exploded in a glare of disgust. "Ugh! How can you drink this stuff?"

Terry scoffed. "Wuzz." He snatched the glass bottle from Priscilla's hand before taking a long swig, drinking it like water.

Priscilla shrieked as the ground rumbled beneath them, and suddenly, a painting crashed to the floor, rattling off its nail.

Another one followed, significantly more potent than the first, as its tremors sent a vase to clatter in many pieces on the floor.

Terry shot an annoyed glance at the shards of glass. "Seriously, Mom? Now?"

"Here," Priscilla smiled broadly as she held a long robe towards him.

Terry stared back, puzzled. "What's this?" He looked with disdain at a long robe dangling from Priscilla's finger.

"Your mandatory clothing for when you perform as a cleric in public," she said.

Terry's eyes narrowed, his voice lowering with anger. "Made mandatory, by whom?"

"By your mom, of course. Look, it even has your favorite colo – "Priscilla gave a yelp as another tremor rocked the windows.

Holding tight to stay in his seat, he waved his hand nonchalantly. "Throw it in the fire. No way I'm going to wear that."

Despite days of pleading to his mother for a more meaningful role in the new world than simply being her obedient son, Terry felt a wave of conflicting emotions when Clara eventually offered him the position of the highest religious leader on Earth after Stephanie - something she had viewed him as being too spineless for only a short while ago.

Terry had always been cynical towards religious matters. Had always viewed them as institutions for small-minded individuals still believing in things like 'walking on water' and 'bringing people back from the death'. Unfortunately, Terry had no choice. It was either that or serve his mother's beck and call in the house. So he eventually complied with him being baptized into the Supreme Shepherd, thus throwing him into an exalted position that granted him the highest authority on Earth. Terry was still a mere puppet ruler, with his Goddess of a mother pulling the strings of his every move – who stood above and beyond all.

Between mother and son stood Stephanie, who served as an instrument for Clara to hand out divine punishment to those who refused to embrace her as their God out of their own free will.

The Angel of Doom was her name, and she'd just decided to please Terry with a visit right before his inauguration.

This time, it was Terry who shrieked like a baby girl when Stephanie materialized in front of him. His feet stumbled over the long robe draped over his shoulders, making him trip over Priscilla – who had been standing behind him to help him dress. Terry glanced up from his spot on the floor and was met with Stephanie's bright white smile beaming down at him.

"Morning, sunshine! Ready to become significant?" Stephanie said with a playful smirk.

Terry scoffed, brushing himself off as he stood. His voice was laced with sarcasm as he replied, "Significant? Is that what you call the gift of my megalomaniacal mother?"

"Hey!" Stephanie stepped closer, grabbing his chin firmly and looking deep into his eyes. "Your mother is holy now. You cannot say these things anymore. Or would you rather prefer some divine retribution from yours truly?" She grinned slyly while holding up a finger that sparkled with electricity.

Terry heaved a heavy sigh as he turned away from her to face the mirror. The fabric of his long robe pooled around his ankles. He looked at Stephanie through the reflection of the glass and said, "What's stopping you?"

Stephanie tenderly wrapped her warm arms around Terry's neck, cozying her head against his. "The opportunity to see you squirm while being forced out of your comfort zone withholds me from burning you to ashes. You hate to be in the center of attention, don't you?" she whispered in his ear.

Terry was about to respond when a loud crash echoed through the room. With dread rising up in his throat, he looked up and saw that a massive hole had appeared in the roof, bathing the room in bright sunlight. A figure dressed only in black high-heeled boots descended gracefully from the gap and landed on the floor with an air of authority.

An unmistakable spark of mischief lit up in Stephanie's eyes as her glare landed on Clara. "Don't tell me you just had the best sex of your life?"

"I just had the best sex of my life!" Clara jolts her brows. "Oh, by the way, I think we'd wrecked some buildings while I was getting railed. Sorry about that."

Almost immediately after, six figures descended through the hole in the roof - muscular, tanned gods of male beauty. They all landed gracefully next to Clara.

Stephanie's eyes widened with lust as she looked over the six men standing before Clara. They were tall and muscular, with broad shoulders, chiseled features, and deep, tanned skin. But it was more than their physical appearance that had Stephanie captivated - they exuded a powerful presence, almost like they held some divine energy within them. "Oh my! Did you give these gorgeous individuals powers just for the sole purpose to fuck you?"

Clara nodded as she brushed her fingers along one of the man's sweaty cheeks, who stood heaving like he had just run a straight marathon. "Temporary powers, yes. And now that their purpose is filled." Clara snapped her fingers. "They can go back to their former selves."

Stephanie's glare of lust turned to a look of revulsion as their muscles began to deflate, their stunning faces melting away. What remained were a bunch of lanky nerds with white skin, crooked teeth, and skittish eyes concealed beyond thick glasses.

"Ugh! Not so gorgeous now, are they." Stephanie scowled as Clara directed the men out.

Clara smiled. "Virgins still living with their moms. All of them. Well, up until a few minutes ago." She tittered. "It was my gift to them as a God. I can be very benevolent, you know?"

"Then can you be so benevolent as to please wear something when in the same room with me, Mom?" Terry couldn't bring himself to look at his mother as he tossed a blanket her way. It hit her chest and fell in a heap on the floor, but she made no move to pick it up, her hands instead settling on her hips in annoyance.

Clara sighed, "This again, Terry? We've had this discussion before. I am God now. You should be happy to be my son and not whine like a toddler about trivial things like clothing."

Stephanie stepped in between them with a proud smile on her face. She waved her hand in Terry's direction. "Doesn't he look just splendid, my Goddess?"

Terry rolled his eyes. "Oh lord."

Clara took a thinking pose while sizing him up. "Now that you're mentioning it. Yes, he does. He really does."

Stephanie wrapped her arms around Terry's shoulders, squeezing him tightly with her superpowered grip as she grinned at him. "Ready for your big day, champ?"

Terry scoffed while vainly trying to shake himself free from his friend's superpowered grasp. "Don't speak like I'm doing this because I want this so much."

Stephanie pivoted her head in Clara's direction and whispered, "The poor guy has stage fright."

Clara walked up to her son in an attempt to comfort him but ceased walking when she noticed his look of aversion when taking in her naked body. She sighed and, with the power of a single thought, conjured a dress around her body. She cocked an eyebrow as if to ask 'better?' and walked up to Terry when he gave her a nod of approval.

"Hey, listen, son. No one in that crowd is going to dare to harm you." Clara said.

"I'm just a boy, mom! Me, Supreme leader of the world? Don't make me laugh. No one is going to take me seriously." Terry's voice quavered.

Clara wrapped her arm around her son and gave him a comforting squeeze. "You have me to back you up, remember? And Stephanie here. And no army should be fucking with that girl, am I right Step?"

"You bet, Goddess!" She smashed her fists together to empower her words.

"Look, son." Clara pulled Terry closer, her gaze becoming serious. "I did not want to tell you, but I told the mayor that my Angel of Doom would decimate eight major cities in three different countries in case some troublemaker would have the audacity to lay a finger on you during your inauguration. That should get him serious about security measures."

Terry's face twisted in shock. "Eight?!"

Clara frowned. "What? Not enough? Should I make it twelve instead? Or no, wait, I know something better." Clara glanced at Stephanie.

"My dearest Angel of Doom, would you be so kind?"

For an instant, Stephanie seemed confused before understanding what her Goddess was requesting of her - then her eyes lit up with renewed excitement. "Aah, yes, of course. Right away!"

Terry gaped in puzzlement as his eyes followed Stephanie's ascent through the gaping hole in the roof. When she was merely a faint dot in the sky, a brilliant red beam of energy shot out from her, blasting away in a specific direction.

Not a second later, Terry clung to his mother when the walls began shaking violently. His heart raced as he expected the worst when he heard the muffled chorus of screams, echoing thousands of desperate voices in a horrifying harmony.

"What is she doing? Don't tell me she's–"

Clara shushed her son by placing a finger against his lips. She pressed his head against her shoulder and began humming a soothing tune for him until the tremors subsided and the screams faded away.

"There," Stephanie descended through the hole, landing next to them, wearing an expression of pride.

Clara gave her an approving smile. "Done it without a moment of hesitation this time. You're making progress, girl. I'm proud of you."

"Why, thank you! Everything to please my Goddess." Stephanie beamed with a sense of accomplishment.

Terry grabbed his mother by the collar, his eyes bright with alarm. "What on earth has she done, Mom?"

Clara smiled as she gestured toward the double doors that led to the balcony. "Go see for yourself, son."

Terry took a hesitant step towards the double door leading to the balcony. After bracing himself, he opened it. No amount of words would be able to prepare him for the scenery he witnessed when looking out over the plaza where, just mere moments ago, thousands of people were waiting to attend his inauguration. He gaped slack-jawed as his horrified eyes took in the carnage he witnessed down there, where a forest of charred corpses were lying, still smoldering. And it was quiet. Oh, so quiet.

He flinched when a hand landed on his shoulder. His mother stood next to him, staring out at the bloodbath with an expression of grim satisfaction.

"Now, no one can do you any harm, son." She smiled at him.