After 2 weeks of on-demand blowjobs, Jason had to admit that I’d won the bet. Finally! I guess it’s fair that he had to test all the places he could ask for a blowjob to check if I would, and he was very thorough. He was even kind enough to let me sleep in his bed, so that I could easily give him a morning blowie! And I guess he never specified who got the blowjob either, so when all his work pals came over for the game, I was very busy.
When my housemate Jason told me about the bodysuit, there was no way I believed him. Honestly, I thought it was just going to be some goofy prank, and that he’d put some itching powder in it – but a bet is a bet, and I put it on. Immediately, it shrunk tight around me, moulding and shaping my body into this little brunette.
Becoming a bimbo hasn’t been easy. First the transformation and living in a new place and then adjusting to the lifestyle. I only did it because I lost a stupid bet. But maybe now that I’ve experienced the other side and my new form. It was the best decision I’ve ever made.
Living like a bimbo is fun. The sex is great, the clothes are hot and fun to wear and you are the admiration of many. You wear slutty make up and get too wear pretty colours and all the men want you. It’s the best bet I’ve ever made.
Ever since I was a kid, I was something of a thrill seeker. I was only twelve years old when I found the joy of driving cars and only three months after to get into my first car accident, but that didn’t do anything to quell my newfound love of racing, a love that stuck with me into adulthood. Working at a grocery store, I found that street racing was an excellent way to supplement my income. I quickly gain a reputation as someone with guts, willing to go all the way for a win. It was that reputation that earned me an invite to an exclusive racing club. It had no official name, but they raced for what they called “slips or slits”.
The majority of these races were for pink slips, meaning the winner would get the loser’s car, a risky but potentially lucrative prospect. Every week, there would be at least one “pink slits” race. These were the main events as the prize for winning and the punishment for losing was far more dire. Instead of the car, the drivers’ masculinity was on the line. The winner would absorb all of the masculine essence from the loser, enhancing his male features in every way, including his sexual prowess. The loser’s body would then be flooded with feminine essence, transforming them into women in every way save for their mind. They and the other members of the club would remember who the loser was before the race, but in the eyes of the rest of the world, the loser was born a female, reality shifting to accommodate their new identity.
The loser could still race for slips or petition for a redemption race. In this race, the transformed racer can regain their male form by absorbing the masculine essence of their opponent along with any enhancements their opponent may have gotten. However, should they lose, their mind would be altered to become the winner’s perfect slave. They would no longer be members of the club but still accompany their masters to club events, their only purpose in life to look pretty and please their man.
“I’ll see you tonight, Molly,” she said with a wink. I wanted to gag. Me and my wife are known to take bets, and we often push the stakes farther and farther. After winning my last bet and making my wife dress like a dog all day, she’s stepped it up by forcing me to dress like a girl all day. She shaved my whole body, got me a wig, some breast forms, and did an incredible job on my makeup. I was already a pretty slim guy, so she had a decent canvas to work with. I had to give her though, unless someone literally took off my pants and saw my dick there’s no way they’d know.
The day was pretty boring. I didn’t want to leave the house, obviously so I mostly texted my friends. Any snapchats I got I replied with pictures of objects instead of myself. However, I wasn’t able to avoid people forever. When I went to the fridge to get something to eat I found it totally barren, my wife must’ve dumped it out before leaving for work. I went online and ordered a pizza, hoping I could make this experience as minimal as possible.
When Alvin ate the girly granola he thought it would be disastrous. However, this was not the case. Alvin loved being Ava and all the feminine clothing tastes that came with her and she recommends the TG restaurant to all her friends.
The fiery light of dawn was streaming through the windows as I arched my back in a wild moan, convulsively thrusting my breast into the air while my lover, Serena licked at my pussy. I knew then that I had lost, and this would be my body forever.
It had been a casual conversation – the sort that happens between lovers who were supremely comfortable with each other. At that point, I was still a man, and I had just finished taking Serena from behind. We cleaned up the sticky fluids of our love and flopped into bed together, satisfied and exhausted. I commented offhand that we had never stayed up all night having sex the way that people do in movies, always too exhausted after one or two rounds to keep going. Serena gave a small shrug and said, “I bet if you were a woman we’d be able to.”
I should have just let it go, but my ego wouldn’t let me. A couple months earlier, Serena had let me know that she was bisexual, and ever since I had felt insecure about the fact that some chick might have been able to give her the same sort of pleasure I did. So, naturally, I took the very masculine course of digging in my heels and arguing. When Serena commented that she had pulled all-nighters with a couple of her college girlfriends, I finally blew up and said, “No way. No one has that sort of energy. It’s just a myth.”
“Just like magic?” she said.
“Exactly,” I answered.
And that’s how it became an actual bet. Turns out Serena was a practicing sorceress with the power to transform a man into a woman. I woke up in the morning as a slim brunette with perky tits next to a smug girlfriend. She gave me the whole day to get used to my new body, but as soon as the sun went down, we dove into bed. If we fell asleep before morning Serena would change me back and even “enhance” my cock. But if we stayed up all night, I would have to stay a woman forever.
I had planned to cheat the bet, to just crash after a few minutes of awkward foreplay, but that scheme evaporated the first moment that Serena pulled our bodies together. The soft flesh of our tits squeezed together, and my nipples grew hard. Her hands glided over the soft skin of my graceful curves. Our lips fit together perfectly, from the first kiss, I felt a gush of wetness between my legs. I couldn’t believe how horny I was, and my body responded to every touch with fireworks behind my eyes. I had no idea a tongue could summon so much pleasure, and I eagerly returned every kiss and caress.
I lost track of how many orgasms I experienced. I lost track of the time. I lost track of where my body ended and Serena’s began. There was only pleasure and the wild hunger for more pleasure. And that’s how we managed to have sex until morning. I might have been more disappointed at losing bet, but then a flood of pleasure washed all thoughts from my brain. Moaning and thrashing in bed, I realized that I hadn’t lost anything at all.
Randy(lying down) and his cousin, not to mention her friends, had been on vacation for a couple of weeks. They were heading from Ohio into Pennsylvania and the girls had a challenge for him. All four knew that Abby, Randy’s cousin, was a witch and the girls bet him he couldn’t last a week as a girl on vacation. Randy figured it was in the bag.
“NNnggh… NNNNGGHHh!!!… NNNGGGHHHHHH!”
I was the best pool player. But one of my friends told me about a new guy who was always winning, “he never misses, and always win. He even has all these hot chicks around him, we call them, his groupies”. I went to the billiards with the intention of winning. I saw him play, he was kind of average, but he only played against his groupies. “Hey dude! want to play against me? we can bet to make it interesting” I told him, “no thanks, not interested” he said. “Well, are you afraid I will win? and all your groupies will leave you for a real man?” I insisted. “Ok fine, if you insist. But no bet.”