Wishes Gone Wrong - I Can Do Better

I had won all of this?

Highschool me and Noland were wearing the Coxwell Academy cheerleading uniform - a microskirt and... who the hell wore stilettos at a cheer rally? Had these girl versions of us been Coxwell girls? My mouth went dry. Noland I and like, half the highschool lacrosse team used to bang the Coxwell seniors after practice. Geeze, we had been barely 18 then, the girls likewise. Had it been so long ago? They always went crazy for us private school guys. I looked at the photos of us, that same only-just-legal age, jumping from one lewd pose to the next, pom-pons in hand as the enormous cock mascot ran around in the background. Had this me been on the other side of that equation? Had I been the one on my knees in an alleyway, the center of attention at an impromptu blowbang? I let out a short breath. I didn't even want to think about it.

I tried to focus on the most recent set trophies - what the hell was an AVN award? Best new actress?

I stood back, dizzy. All of my accomplishments, all of my glories. Gone. Replaced by this strange girl's life. Victory. But at what cost? My masculinity? My whole fucking life?

I shook my head. I didn't have time to deal with this. I refused to deal with this!

The lamp. That stupid fucking lamp.

I charged into the laundry room. The lamp - sparkling clean - was sitting neatly on a pillow on one of the shelves. I ripped it off. There was a little folded note below it.

"Good morning, Master! I hope you enjoy your double wish. I'm recharging my magic right now, but I'll be back to check on you Saturday at 8pm! Please be near the lamp and we can go over any changes you wish to make to the terms."

Saturday!? That was two days from now! All the panic that had been building at the back of my brain came crashing to the forefront.

I didn't fucking believe this. I started rubbing the lamp for all it was worth. I was going to give that bitch a piece of my mind.

But nothing happened. No amount of rubbing would bring my tormenter to bear.

"Fuck!" I slammed the lamp down on the ground as hard as my girlish arms could. The lamp sparked. Had it worked? I reached down to pick it back up and an electric surge shot out into my arm. "Son of a-" I jumped back, shaking my delicate hand.

Another note was peaking out from the spout.

"PS. Stop throwing my lamp!"

I screamed. The rage within me erupted like a storm, thunderous and powerful. Were I myself it would be a frightening thing, but my body was week and my motions hopelessly girlish. All the vastness of my fury and it sputtered out of me like a petulant drizzle.

I crossed my arms over my chest, trying not to cry.

I had never felt so helpless.

"Okay." I collapsed on the soft plush of the pink couch and curled up into a ball. "Think."

I was a girl until Saturday. That wasn't so bad, was it? A couple of days? I'd miss the game on Saturday, but this girl's life I had found myself in - I could fake it until then, right? I probably wouldn't even need to if I played it smart. I could call in sick and order delivery. I wouldn't even have to leave the apartment; I wouldn't have to humiliate myself. No one was going to see me like this.

Yeah, I took a few deep breaths. I could do this.

I looked around. Did girl-me keep a schedule? Some kind of calendar? There had to be something that could tell me more about this person. Right?

I kept a personal organizer near my workout stuff. I used it to track workout logs so that I could be sure I was always making progress, always getting one step closer to beating Noland. It was still there. It looked like the two of us had this much in common at least.

Except this book - doodled on like some kind of lovestruck high school bimbo - was now full of all kinds of strange milestones and trackers. Most were mundane: hair, makeup, nails, social media goals, outfit ideas, that sort of thing. This girl kept meticulous track of what worked and what didn't. Others were a little alarming. Plug size? Corset training? Cosmetic surgeon reviews? I shuddered. This body was no accident.

I thought back to the picture of me and Noland on that soccer field. We had been born girls, but this beauty had been as painstakingly achieved as my own athletic success.

I frowned. The book didn't contain a schedule.

"Okay," I took a breath. "Keep it together."

I could feel the tears, I could feel the anguish welling up behind my eyes. The estrogen had made swift work of my mental defenses. "This is fine. This is fine. I can handle this." Saying the words out loud did little to assuage my turmoil. "Let's take it one step at a time."

I went back into the bedroom and started looking for the phone. Maybe she used an app.

There were more texts from Noah. My pulse rose when I saw the thumbnail, but I wasn't about to fall down that rabbit hole again.

God, why did the idea of seeing my friend's huge dick get me so fucking hot?

My eyes went wide. That bitch. Had she made me gay too?

No. No. I looked at the impossibly beautiful creature in the mirror and let my mind wander to all the downright filthy things I'd want to do to a girl like this. How I'd run a hand softly down her slender back, how I'd nibble on her ear until she screamed, how I'd softly brush the hair out of her eye before kissing those sweet fuckable lips.

I shook away the blush. See? Not gay. Not completely gay anyway. It wasn't even me; it was this stupid girl body! It kept getting turned on so fucking easily. I just... I had to stay away from men, that was all. How hard could that be?

I turned back to the phone. The calendar spoke of an intricately arranged social life, one hot date after another, sometimes two or three men a night or even at a time. I closed the app in disgust. A bikini-clad version of myself surrounded by huge guys at the gym stared back at me from my home screen.

Who the hell even was this girl? I scrolled through the photo roll. Duck face selfies from beautiful locations and pictures of cute food. This wasn't just me as a girl, this girl had a whole fucking life. Even if - I fowned - even if she was a bit of a basic bitch.

I pulled open my contacts. A thousand or more unfamiliar names popped up. Men, mostly, and almost all with a little 1-5 star rating next to their names. There were a lot of fives. I found one labelled work.

"Okay." I took a deep breath. "I can do this." I just had to tell them I was sick until further notice.

It rang.

"Nikkie? Oh my god, is that you?" the girl's voice on the other side was unfamiliar and harried. There was some kind of commotion going on behind her.

"Uh-"

"Oh thank god, I was just about to call you, listen - I know you're not scheduled tonight, but we've had a bunch of no-shows today and I really need you on deck. I've pulled Noland in too, but she can't do it on her own. We need you in ASAP!"

Noland. My heart leapt into my throat.

"I-" I tried to fake a cough. "I'm actually not, like, feeling all that great? That's why I was calling." I winced at my own voice -- it was as shallow and as girly as this apartment.

"What? Nikkie, you can't be sick, you're our MVP! I need you to come save our butts. Noland's good, don't get me wrong, but she's no you."

"I..." I couldn't help the smile bubbling up inside me. They needed me. Not Noland, me. I was their MVP. My heart thumped. I didn't know what the hell was going on, but if this was a chance to see this world's Noland, if this was a chance to show her up and rub her nose in my superiority, then maybe... maybe that was worth a little humiliation of my own? Right?

No. What? Jesus christ, what was I thinking? I couldn't go out like this. I looked like a fucking pornstar! And besides - I blinked - my hair was a mess and I wasn't even dressed.

But wasn't this what I had wanted? A chance to see Noland put low? A chance to finally show him his place. Isn't this something I'd endure any pain, any humiliation to be a part of?

Wasn't victory worth the price?

Besides - I took a deep breath - I was going to wish everything back to the way it had been, right? In a few days it would be like none of this had ever happened. Why not take advantage of the situation?

"Nikkie? You still there?" she was desperate.

"Don't even worry!" My voice was bubble-gum honey. "I'll be there as soon as I can!"

"Oh my god, thank you, Nikkie, your a total lifesaver!" There was a crash behind her and breaking plates. "Oh come on! Shit, I've got to go- Hurry!"

There was a click and then silence.

I looked down at the phone. What had I just agreed to?

I trotted into the bathroom. I didn't have much time, but I couldn't go out like this. I still had my hair up in a net and a face smeared with beauty gunk. I wasn't about to let girl-Noland steal the spotlight just because I rushed out the door with bed head.

The bathroom too, was different, but I didn't have time to deal with how downright luxurious my toilet was, or the dildo sitting on the seat of the whirlpool shower, or the staggering array of products lining the sink and tub. I was the sort of guy they made all-in-one shampoo-conditioner-bodywash. I didn't even know what any of this crap even was.

Okay - I looked into the mirror - I'd have to keep it simple.

I took off the rejuvenating overnight facial mask with an oil-based cleanser, then went back over it with a water-based one before applying some toner and eye cream and going over everything with a spf-moisturizer. It was pretty basic, but it would have to do. My hair - now swinging down almost to my butt - got a similarly basic treatment: a quick spritz of dry shampoo and a few strokes with a brush.

I took a step back and admired my handiwork. I was stunning. The hair, falling like loose waves, hung around the perfect skin of my soft round face. I blew a little kiss - cute plump lips pouted seductively beneath a soft button nose. I twisted this way and that. Long eyelashes framed vibrant, expressive green eyes. it was a face with a lot of range. I could go anywhere from innocent vixen to needy whore with just a few shifts in makeup and expression.

I ran into the bedroom and took a look at myself in front of the full-length mirror. The woman before me was still impossibly, perfectly sculpted. Though the corset was now gone, it was obvious that it's effects still lingered. As lip-bitingly hot as my naked form was though, I needed to get dressed, and fast.

Shit, what even would be appropriate? What did this girl do for a living? Lawyers didn't get called in like that. Was she a model? What did models wear? The drawer I normally kept my work clothes in was now occupied entirely with frilly, close-cut lingerie. Uhg, all of this girl's clothes were like that. Nothing I could find came anywhere close to even business casual.

Okay, this was fine. I kept spare clothes at work for when I wanted to hit the nearby gym during my lunch. This girl was me, right? She'd do the same. I would just wear something normal over and change there.

I just had to find something simple.

I pulled out what I thought was a basic sweater only to see the huge whole in the front designed to show off my tits. I frowned. Forget business casual, none of these came close to even regular casual. Even the most conservative of these outfits was downright scandalous.

I considered the walk-in closet that my home gym had become, but what I'd seen of that was full-length dresses and gowns and corsets wrapped sternly around mannequin torsos.

One step at a time. My panty drawer was a bright rainbow of neatly folded silk, carefully arranged to display style and material. I frowned. Despite the variety of colors, the real choice seemed to come down to either hypersexual or ultra cute. Was I going to wear pink ruffles or have a string riding up my ass all day? I chose the latter. Somehow it was less degrading. The thin line of fabric lined up gently over my plug as I pulled it up over my tremendous ass.

Oh shit. My plug.

How the hell had I forgotten I'd been wearing a buttplug this whole time? It had just... it had settled in so comfortably. I gave it a little tug, twisting at it to try to get it to come out, but the sensation sent me buckling as a low horny groan escaped my lips. Fuck - it was like trying to draw Excalibur.

I turned back towards the mirror, naked breasts swaying with ever greater intensity as my breathing increased. Maybe... I clenched my butt around it tighter. Mmm... maybe it could stay. Who would know?

I dug around looking for something even remotely manly. The closest I could find was a pair of jeans and what I thought was a muscle shirt. Only too late did I discover that they were both painfully tight.

It was a struggle. I had to bounce around foot to foot to get my jiggling ass into the seat of the pants.

I wouldn't have thought it possible for my posterior to look any sweeter, but somehow the skin-tight denim managed, hoisting my ass up big and proud for all the world to see.

I had no less difficulty with the top. The act of manhandling my hypersensitive hooters into it had left me a hot panting mess. Only when I finally stepped away did I realize that the tight-cut sleevless croptop had "Daddy's Girl" written on it in cutesy pink script.

My impossibly perky tits seemed to warp the soft fabric as it was somehow tight enough to cling to the underside of my melons and show off in no uncertain terms what I was packing.

Wait, shit. A bra.

I looked at the array of bras before me. Pushup, balconettes, plunges. There was little here designed with comfort over style. But no - I chewed my lip - I'd have to go without. I'd had a hard enough time getting that top on the first time, and as much as I'd love another round of frantic fondling, there was no time. Besides, how big of a deal could it be? As perky as these things were I'm sure I wouldn't even need it.

I glanced at the clock. I had to hurry.

I was already half done my makeup by the time I even realized what I was doing. I was too busy doing my waterline to even question how I knew how to do it. It was a simple but flirty summer look. Just the basics. A face like this hardly needed it and I could touch it up or kick it up a notch afterwards if needed, but I didn't want to look like I'd just rolled out of bed.

Finally, I threw on my little six-inch black heels and sauntered out the door. I frowned. Even with them on I still wasn't as tall as I had been as a man. My first few steps were cautious and awkward, but after a little practice I was able to walk in them no problem. Shit, I didn't know what girls kept complaining about, I could probably run in these if I needed to.

Okay, I slung my little pink purse over my shoulder and gave one last check in the mirror.

I was ready.

My heart thumped as I stared at the sex object looking back at me. Was I really about to do this?

Was I really about to pretend to be some person - some girl - that I'd never even met? I didn't know anything about her! There was still time, I could still call back and tell them I changed my mind. Noland could fend for herself.

Noland could fend for herself.

I sighed. That was the fucking problem, wasn't it? Noland /could/ fend for herself.

If she was anything like the guy I knew she could come out of nowhere with the big damn hero play. And then where would I be? Not even second place. It made me sick just thinking about it. I was not about to sit back and hand Noland an easy win just because I'd been... what? Shy? Embarrassed to be seen?

Fuck that.

I took one last deep breath and I stepped out the door.

-

Everybody was staring.

I wasn't... I wasn't used to this. Oh, sure, I knew people would be looking, but I hadn't expected their gaze to be so... appreciative.

I had imagined harsh judgement; I had imagined humiliation beyond measure. Instead, girls gawked jealously as guys turned their heads to get a better look. For better or for worse, all eyes were on me.

And you know what? I was kind of loving it.

It's not that I had never been noticed before. Don't get me wrong - guys as built as me get all kinds of attention - but this was like playing in a whole different league.

I just couldn't decide if I was okay with this or not. I mean, I was a girl, for fucks sake. This was the wrong kind of attention. I shouldn't like this, right?

And yet I couldn't help the little skip in my step. I couldn't help but smile. It was the same rush I got when I was on the podium, when I was racing down the pitch. It was the thrill of victory, of dominance. And here all I had to do was walk down the street.

I giggled. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad?

"Hey pretty thing!" a voice cried. "Damn girl, you looking fine! Got a little kiss for me?"

It took a minute for my brain to even process that they were talking to me. I skidded to a halt. There was a construction crew - about a dozen men at least - gathered at the edge of a site to watch me pass.

"Cause I've got a little something for you!" the leader continued, grabbing his crotch. All the other men laughed and started to give howls.

I blushed, my heart pounding. I was certainly not used to getting hit on so brazenly. Especially by, shit, why was he so cute? Sort of tall and strong and rugged. A familiar heat started to spread through my body. I turned to give them a dirty glare, but with a face like mine I'm pretty sure it came across as a smoulder.

"Come on sweetness, show us some love!" he gave a sound like a wolf's howl and the others laughed. "What's the matter? No show today?"

I scowled all the harder. My fist shook, but something told me a right-hook to the face or a foot to the balls wasn't going to resolve this. I shook my head, trying not to think of a few other things I could do with his balls.

This was crazy. I was a guy for fucks sake! I was straight! Even if - fuck - even if this traitorous pussy was telling me otherwise. I needed to get out of here, fast, and without pissing this guy off.

"Sorry mister," I told him off, "but I'm running super late! Maybe next time?" I gave him a wink then turned around and trotted off so that my ass had plenty of bounce for them to stare at. There was a raucous cry as I made my getaway.

My heart pounded. Had I really just said that? Had that really fucking worked? I bit my lip. There was a downside to being the center of attention. I'd hate to think what would have happened if they'd decided to use more than just words. All those strong men with their rough hands and their big dicks and -

Fuck. I had to stop thinking about boys. I needed to hurry up and get to work. I needed a place where I could just keep myself busy and not have to worry about horny men flirting with me all day.

-

"Hooters!?"

I stood outside the red-brick facade. I hadn't even been paying attention to where I was walking, but I knew now that I was here. I worked at a fucking Hooters? What about all the modeling awards and the trophies and the camgirl setup?

"Oh thank god you're here!" A girl rushed out to meet me, pulling me into a hug. She was small and bespeckled but had a bust that almost - almost - put mine to shame. Her tits squished against my midriff as she buried her head in my cleavage.

"Uh, hi?"

"Kacey and Lacey were getting drunk off their asses last night and Eve's been hit or miss ever since she got her new boyfriend. The whole shift is AWOL! Noland's trying to hold down the fort but she's way outside her depth! I've been calling everybody but Jamie and Jean can't come till after classes. You're the only one I could get on short notice! If you can't pull a miracle out of your ass I don't know what we're going to do!"

She pulled her face out of my tits and looked up at me, one last bit of hope glinting in her eyes. I knew that desperation. This was coach telling us we were down 3 in the final period. Things were looking grim.