A WAGER
by Stats
I was standing in front of the urinal of the washroom where I work, daydreaming. I was totally absorbed by the experience I had the day before where I wore a complete set of women's underclothes under my business suit. No one suspected a thing. Thought that the next time I did this I would wear some padding in my bra. Perhaps try to pull it off with no socks, the pants were long enough to cover my ankles if I was careful. Even my secretary-with her eye for detail didn't suspect a thing.
"Do you really want to see how far you can go without them knowing?" a deep authoritative voice from behind me said. I must have damn near jumped three inches; spraying the urinal and surrounding area like a blind mountain lion marking his territory. No one was in the washroom when I came in and I certainly didn't hear anyone enter. My stream had come to an abrupt halt as if I was caught in the middle of something embarrassing. I spun around trying to gather my thoughts and doing up my fly in nanoseconds. "What did you say?" I gasped.
"You were reminiscing," said the stranger "about your charade yesterday. I asked you if you really wanted to see how feminine you could get without your workers noticing." The stranger looked like he just stepped out of an Arabian genie scene except for the small detail that he was dressed in a very fashionable business suit. He had a knowing grin on his meticulously bearded face.
"How could he read my thoughts?" began to flash through my mind. He interrupted me in the middle of my question with "because it is second nature to me to read what other people are thinking"
He continued, "I was born with this among other powers. I was able to give myself eternal life, an ability to fade in and out of the reality you know as your world at any place that interests me, change items to fit my whim, and last but not least, tell a good joke. The only problem is I grow bored and am always looking for some new situation that would brighten up my day, year, millenium, whatever... "
"How feminine could I get without my work associates noticing" reverberated in my mind. It was an interesting thought. "I had thoroughly enjoyed the feel of feminine clothes on my body, and loved the little adventure of occasionally wearing female undergarments to work, secretly wishing I had a more female body. But there were certainly women things that I could never think of doing. Making love to another man, yuck! Having and rearing children, ugh! Involving myself with all those female type things, shopping for the sake of shopping, following senseless fashions, getting ever so involved with female small talk that doesn't..."
"Look", the stranger interrupted, "I have a wager that will amuse me and give you exactly what you want. Only condition is that once we part you will not be aware of me, only of the wager. Have to preserve my element of surprise-can't have you blabbing around the coffee room that there is a genie loose on the premises. Here is the scoop. I will feminize you each time you urinate. Each time before you take a leak you have a choice. If you think of something to make you more feminine we will play that theme, if not, you will get the feminization change that I think up for you. So that you are aware what had been done to you after you are finished doing your thing, I will leave a little message for you in your thoughts. Anytime you say to yourself before urinating, 'Not tonight dear, I have a headache' no change will take place. At the end of the month you will be left in whatever state that you have arrived at.....unless.....you decide for one of two big prizes. I pay you $100,000 and you get the body you see in the mirror"
My eyes rushed to the washroom mirror. There was a reflection of a strangely familiar face, my face, but subtly changed to one of the most alluring females I had ever seen in my life. It was so stunning that it was quite a time before I became aware of the eye entrapping cleavage and narrow waist and hips to kill for. As I returned to the face a small come hither smile appeared on the reflection.
"I was tempted to make it a million dollars, but I wanted to give you just enough to resettle in your new life without unduly influencing your final decision. And your second prize, if you so choose, is the reflection before your eyes."
What I saw now was my normal self. There were a few small enhancements that made me as handsome as any movie star. There was no doubt my sex life would be greatly enhanced by either choice.
"However, the makeup job is going to cost you $20,000. I know, I know. You don't have nearly that amount available right now but I have done a quick credit check and see that you currently could raise that amount easily with a couple of phone calls. Try your bachelor boss. "
The last remark should have sounded some bells in my accountant-trained mind but all I could focus on was the details of the wager. "When do I have to make up my mind?" I asked amid the daze of the explosion of alternatives I had just been presented.
"No hurry, I expect someone will need to use the restroom sometime this afternoon. You have until someone comes in to either think 'I accept your offer, stranger' in which case the bet is on, or, 'Go to hell, stranger' in which case this conversation never took place. Come to think of it, this conversation never took place in any event."
No sooner had I digested this contract than I heard a key enter the washroom door lock. "I instinctively thought "I accept your offer, stranger" as my boss appeared in the doorway.
Desperately trying to appear composed I commented that someone must have had his pisser turned to spray to make such a mess of the area. He looks at the urinal and comments that whoever did it must have had a hard time controlling his member when the earthquake hit. With a "rank has its privileges" he steps up to the clean urinal leaving me to carefully straddle the puddle on the floor.
I managed to finish my job without further interruption when the following message flashed across my mind.
Your waist is too fat and your hips are too slender
Let me take from the first and give you a fender.
I suddenly realized that I had urinated without any advance thought and the first of my feminization steps had been the default. I tried to think about where the bazaar wager had come from, had no clue but was totally aware of all the conditions leading up to the final wager was to take place in only 10 days, the end of the month.
"See me in my office when you have a moment, Sam. I want your advice on the Preston report we are about to let loose on our unsuspecting client" my boss said as he wiped his hand on the absurdly small paper towel extracted from the wall unit. All I could think about was how it would compare to my new slender waist.
I waited for the door to close and leaped into a stall. My pants felt so loose around my waist that I was afraid they were going to drop right in front of my boss. I closed the door, dropped my pants and underpants in one quick gesture. Looked down at naked torso. I imagined my hips were somewhat broader but I couldn't see my backside. My guess was my waist was a good six inches smaller than my normal 34 inches.
That evening, when I got home I was in front of the mirror before I heard the front door slam shut. I had sneaked back to my office and hid all afternoon. Shit, my boss wanted to see me about the Preston report. All I could think about was the wager. Try as I might, no revelations occurred to me about the origin but the conditions were branded into my memory. I went to the john to take a crap and inadvertently started to pee. Too late again.
From your chest, legs and arms without any pain
Hair was removed and added to your mane.
I quickly moved to the bathroom mirror. My hair, which was just covering my shirt collar before, was now a good three inches longer. Also, not since I was thirteen had I seen my chest so devoid of hair. A quick scan on my legs and arms told me that the hair there was not only very scarce but it was much finer, a truly feminine amount of body hair.
The first thing I did was get a tape measure and measure all parts of my body. My waist was indeed now 27 inches and I had a 37 inch bum. My flat as a pancake chest was 34 inches.
I resolved that the next alteration would be to give me a bust from, I decided, my thick calves. So first thing when I woke up the next morning was to think through the alterations. Each calf reduced to 14 inches giving me a one and one half inch bust. Nothing to brag to the beauty pageant about but really quite spectacular for me. As a bonus my nipples had become distinctly female and were quite a turn on to erect with a pinch. My areolas were now quite dark and now measured one and one half inches across. No verse flashed through my mind to tell me what had happened. Pity, enjoyed the way the unknown was revealed to me.
The next day was uneventful although my boss was rather caustic about my lack of concern about the Preston Client. I couldn't believe no one mentioned anything about my hair which I now tied back in a pony tail. It was Friday the twenty third and I decided that I needed the weekend to get a plan together. The end of the month was a week tomorrow, a Saturday. I needed to be sure that I had the $20,000 to make me into the model hunk at month end. I had to use the "Not tonight dear, I have a headache" routine twice that day to make sure no further surprise changes took place.
That night I dressed in my finest female outfit to get the full impact of the changes. After putting on my black dress and looking at myself in the mirror I got all turned on by the feminine form reflected back. I took inventory and decided that there were two items that just had to change, I needed more cleavage and my legs really had to be denuded. The last was easy. Removing my pantyhose, I sat on the edge of the bathtub, lathered up my legs and carefully removed all the hair. The second was not so easy to accomplish but I just had to see what my dress looked like with more cleavage showing.
After my fifth change of mind I said "to hell with it" and took a pee while thinking my waist could be thinner and my breasts fuller. All hesitation vanished as I looked down at a pair of knockers that were more than a handful. As near as I could tell they were a full B cup, jutting out little over two and a half inches. Thinking that I could get a little more bust I squeezed out three or four more drops and the next thing I know I was a full C cup with a full three inches stretching to the front.
My waist now measured 26 inches and there could be no doubt the torso was a female. I would have a pretty problem trying to fit this into my three piece suit Monday morning.
However, the dress now looked stunning on me. Enough cleavage to satisfy any male onlooker and absolutely smooth legs to make me feel ever so feminine. Even though my face looked somewhat male and my hands and feet were a bit too large I felt sure I could pass for a female in public. These were dangerous thoughts. If I did much more I would not be able to go to work on Monday. So I enjoyed my alterations to the fullest as I sat in front of the TV fanaticizing and masturbating.
The next morning I woke up to the phone. It was my boss. He wanted to know if I could come in to the office for an hour or two to help him revise the Preston report. I panicked, as I would have to go in this Saturday morning wearing at most a tee shirt or thin sweater. No one wears heavy sweaters in Oregon in June. The only thing that popped into my mind was that I had come down with a bug. He bought off that I was sick with some help from a tired voice routine. I added that if I didn't feel well by Monday I would go to the doctor before I showed up for work (Hey doc, how do I make these mammeries disappear when I wear my three piece suit.) My boss offered that he would personally clean my wagon if I infected his staff with whatever ailment I had contacted,-probably from peeing in that unclean urinal. Relieved and reprieved, I hung up the phone and went to take a pee.
I should have known better but I was still mentally patting myself on the back for my great deception when the beginning of a stream registered in my sleepy head. At the risk of a major hernia I immediately shut off my faucet. Too late.
Your bones are too large for a petite female form
Your ribs, hands and legs we will downward reform.
Now I had double trouble. First I was looking at hands and feet about two thirds the size of what was there a few minutes ago. Second, if I didn't think of something fast to change, I would be in for a second surprise. "My face needs to be slightly more feminine" flashed across my mind as the muscles holding the dam gave out to the golden flow. I reluctantly went to the mirror to assess the damage. My eyebrows were no longer bushy, but unisex. My mouth was slightly larger revealing a beautiful set of even female teeth when I smiled. My lips were much fuller which gave me an extremely female pout. My nose was now pert. There were also some side effects. My ears were pierced after I moved the somewhat longer hair to find them. The term 'slightly more feminine' looked like a sex kitten to me but after a rational reflection I decided it gave me the ultimate unisex look. It also appears that my beard had completely disappeared. After about ten minutes I decided that there was no way anyone at work would not see the changes. I was devastated. What was I to do? In total resignation I now looked at my two female size seven feet with my toenails still painted bright red from last night.
Here it was less than twenty four hours since the contract was made, however it was made. I was everything but a functional female. The doorbell brought me out of my stupor. I looked out over the driveway and saw my boss's car. It was show and tell time. He had just phoned so I couldn't pull the old I am not at home routine.
I yelled down the stairs that I would be down in a moment. In no time at all I had my nail polish off my hands and my face cleaned up from the makeup. I convinced myself I looked masculine enough to answer the door if I wore my big terry cloth bathrobe and slippers hiding my feet. The terry cloth seemed to fill in where the wager had taken away, except I didn't need any fill in on my hips or bust.
I opened the door not knowing what to say to my boss. He rushed past me with an apology for getting me out of my death bed but he was desperate for my help. He just kept talking as he looked at me, not being aware of the massive changes to my body. After about an hour and a half and four cups of coffee each we had the contract problems resolved and he said that he was going to treat me to lunch. I looked at him rather blankly, like lunch was not a word in my vocabulary. Finally he said, "Sam, I could really care less that you like to dress up as a female. You are by far the best employee I have and I will accept you anyway you care to present yourself. Now get dressed and let's get something to eat"
I was stunned. He knew I had worn female underclothes. I managed to get out in my unisex voice "How long have you known?"
"Ever since that day last April when you came back from the washroom with your slip hanging out from the back of your pants. Remember, I called a staff meeting and you were asked to man the phones. Well it turns out about half the staff alreadyknew about this for some time. We all agreed you were the kindest, most gentle person we knew and it would not be appropriate to embarrass you. So the whole company, all 15 of us, made a vow to not let on we aware of anything about your fetish. Will you please get dressed. I am famished."
My mind was a bog. In went to my room I sat down at the edge of my bed. What was I going to do?. Then the reality of four cups of coffee hit me. As I walked to the john I chuckled at my sudden change of plans. In quick succession I wished for two other things but saved a few drops for another surprise.
My long wavy hair hung down to my waist as I descended the stairs in my tight fitting shorts, cleavage-exposing halter-top and sandals. "Well boss, do you think the other employees will be able to keep their vow?" I said in my sexy new soprano voice.
What previously was out is now quite in
When you do it for love, it isn't a sin.
I had a lot to do before next Saturday. After all, it takes a lot of planning to spend $100,000.