Terry Furgess sneaked out of work a half hour early. He didn't really care if he was caught, he was so jaded with working there he wouldn't mind if he was fired at all.
He wanted to try the wishing well for himself before anyone else. The prospect of having anything he wanted was too much for him to contain his excitement. He'd caught himself chuckling out loud at least twice while at work, gleeful at the possibilities if Graeme's farfetched story held true. Half the people in his department who would become beneficiaries of his wishing, if he had his way with them. To hell with them all!
The first would be that Emily Connell. The sexy, voluptuous Irish redhead was the only person in his department he even tolerated, and his only friend in the company apart from Graeme.
She'd never look twice at a fat guy like me though, he thought.
She'd collared him about laughing too much at work and he'd come clean and told her in private Graeme's story. He trusted her as much as any woman, and didn't have to worry whether or not she'd tell others. He knew she didn't believe him anyway. Besides, with the help of that wishing well she'll become something more than his friend, that's for sure!
He reached the park and pulled over his car. He half-skipped to the wishing well. There were only a couple of people here, good. Fumbling in his pocket for a coin, he pulled out a quarter and clasped it tightly as he contemplated his wish.
He thought about his job, how boring it was on his low level of the corporate ladder. He wanted something more interesting, challenging and enjoyable from work. He wanted to be noticed by the boss, Mr Brass, and promoted. At the same time he wanted to be able to slack off more and have more fun in his job. Hell, he wanted to be paid more too! Okay then, he thought, that's what I'll wish for.
"I wish I got all I wanted from work," he flipped the coin into the well.
Immediately, he felt a tingling sensation all over his body.
"It's working!" he gasped.
Suddenly his clothing began to shift and pull closer to his body. The material of his cheap suit became smoother and finer in quality and his shoes closed tight around his feet as they remodelled themselves.
The magic must be making my clothes into an outfit that'll get me noticed, he thought confidently.
After a few moments, he felt something was wrong. His new clothing constricting against his flabby bulk and while with the restricted movement he couldn't see past his belly, he felt a draft run up his legs. He wondered what had happened to his trousers, and his shirt too for that matter (which had shrunk away and disappeared somewhere beneath his now fine business jacket, exposing his hairy chest to the world).
Then a new peculiar feeling spread throughout his body and his clothing didn't seem so tight anymore. He panicked and tried to get away from the well, but tripped and fell over as his uncomfortable shoes sent him toppling to the ground. Looking down at his feet, Terry gasped as he saw his shoes had turned into dainty women's shoes with stiletto heels! His feet looked different now, they were less hairy and seemed smaller, he was sure his feet would be busting out of shoes like those.
But that wasn't all he noticed. His belly was receding, he was losing a lot of weight all over but the paunch he was used to was especially different. And it was still shrinking! Now he could see what was going on with his legs and it was alarming news - Terry was wearing a micro skirt and stockings! Like much of the rest of him, his legs were losing hair and flab and already unrecognisable. He quickly came to the conclusion - he was becoming a girl!
Terry screamed - or rather, he squealed like a girl, discovering his voice had already radically altered.
"What, the fuck?" he said with a bubblegum soprano voice as he tested his new vocal cords.
"Oh my God!" Terry cried, as he felt something pull his hips apart. He immediately reached to his crotch to check his equipment where he found three alarming facts. First, his penis was much smaller than it should be and gradually shrinking. Second, his balls were nowhere to be found, having already been sucked into his body and turned into ovaries. Third and finally, whatever magical force had thought fit to give him this outfit, hadn't thought it appropriate to give him any underwear! Terry didn't want to think what that meant for him.
His waist was thinner now than it was when he was ten years old, and still shrinking. He felt the collar of his suit jacket (which looked really feminine, now that he noticed it) pull against the back of his neck and quickly realised why. Pushing against the front of his jacket was a pair of female breasts! The boobs swelled to fill the large cups of the lacy push-up bra concealed under his suit, then swelled a little more. Helplessly his hands rose to them and he groped himself, gasping at the powerful sensations that caused. They were the biggest, roundest, most beautiful tits he'd ever touched - hell, seen - in his life and they were on his chest! He lay on the ground with his eyes closed and boobs pointing to the sky, stroking and teasing his nipples as he waited for the magic coursing through his system to run its course.
A short time later, the disturbances in his flesh had ceased and Terry hesitantly opened his eyes. A young man walked up to him and offered to help him up.
"I'm fine, thanks," Terry said with his sugary voice.
With as much dignity as he could muster, he climbed to his feet and inspected himself. He had the figure a pornstar would be jealous of, wide - child-bearing, he thought, ugh - hips and a large, round (but firm) rear, a tiny waist and the best tits ever (according to his own opinion). His hair was now light blond and long enough to fall to the middle of his back. He felt large hoop earrings in each ear. His lips were full and pouty and he could tell he was wearing lipstick (and probably other make-up as well). Oh, and he was definitely, completely female now.
"What the hell happened?" Terry cried out, "I gotta go see Graeme!"
He looked at his watch, now in an expensive bejewelled feminine design, and saw that he might still have time to get back to work before Graeme leaves for the day. He set off at a jogging pace to his car, stopped, swore under his breath, removed his high heels and carried them with him as he resumed his dash.
