When all was said and done, and the moment of truth was upon us, things suddenly became way too real. There we were, each with a syringe full of mystery girlifying liquid, both of us eager to take the literal and metaphorical plunge, but neither of us brave enough to do it. For untold minutes, we sat, each of us in our respective seats, facing one another, legs bare, injection sites sterilized, syringes held in trembling hands. Over and over again I kept asking Tony to show me the video on how to adequately perform a muscle injection; over and over again when the time came my confidence waned. Maybe it was the prospect of having to jab myself in the leg with a sharp object—that was undoubtedly a tough mental hurdle to overcome—but realistically, the actual problem was that this was it. All either of us had to do was just, to paraphrase Tony, put the thing in the thing, and it would happen. And that was scary. It was very, very exciting, but scary all the same. 

 

I couldn’t help but take a moment to wonder what kind of girl I would be. Would I be a tall, fit girl? Or maybe a curvy, generously proportioned girl? Then again, if I wanted to win the bet, maybe it would be best if I wound up all tiny and adorable. Obviously I wanted to be the girliest girl possible in order to win the bet and pull off the prank properly, so a body like that would definitely be the best outcome. And it sounded like so much fun, too; not feeling like I took up too much space or attracted too much unwanted attention. I didn’t really like it when all eyes were on me, it meant people would see all the little things that were wrong about me. If I were small like that, I could get all the nice, positive attention cute girls got—like the compliments from other girls—while also being able to disappear into a crowd easily when I got the less good kind. Plus it just sounded nice, being small and cute; girls like that were so huggable. Regardless, I wouldn’t be anything—well, except a regular guy—until I actually got the solution into my body via sharp pointy boy—’boy’ here, of course, meaning needle. 

 

Taking a deep breath, I once again looked from the needle to my leg, then back up to Tony. “So I guess there’s really only one thing left to do, right?”

 

“Sure seems that way.” He could barely form words at this point, so strained and shaky was his voice. Was that how I sounded too? I sure felt the way he looked.

 

“So, do we do it or—? Like, if you wanna back out I get—”

 

“No!—err, sorry. No, I don’t want to back out.” He trailed off, staring into the corner of the room. “Unless you d—”

 

“No!” Then it became my turn to avert my gaze. 

 

“Right, cool, so, um, on three?” Tony asked; I nodded.

 

We both spoke in unison, “One, two, three.”

 

Tony stared from my leg, to me, to the syringe in my hand, then back to me. “You didn’t do it,” he said.

 

“Neither did you,” I shot back defensively. 

 

“Alright, fine, we’ll do each-other,” he said, standing up and crossing the room, plopping down next to me. 

 

“At least buy me dinner first, bro,” I grinned. Tony rolled his eyes.

 

“Are we doing this or not?” he asked.

 

“Fine.” I leaned forward, brandishing the syringe, pointing it down on his leg. I lightly rested my thumb upon the plunger, causing a few glistening beads of girl-juice to collect at the tip. 

 

“On three,” he murmured again, focusing intently on my leg. “And don’t chicken out on me.”

 

Once again, we counted together, “One, two, three.” There was a brief little pinch, then the distinct feeling of something being inside of me as a light pressure emitted from the needle while I mirrored Tony’s actions. Almost as quickly as it began, it was over, the syringe was drained, and the needle removed in a swift motion that matched my own. We held one another's gaze, panting, each of us seeming shocked that we were even able to keep our hands steady enough to make the injection properly. 

 

“I…”

 

“What do…”

 

Any attempt at further communication was cut short as, a moment later Tony and I both felt a simultaneous surge of energy pulse through both our bodies. Tony’s eyes bulged, and I could only imagine mine were doing the same as we each began to pant, clutching at our sides as the magic which now beat through our veins made itself known. I wanted to be excited, but instead mostly was just overcome with the sheer intensity of how everything felt. There was pressure, pressure all over, not painfully so, but it was persistent and increasingly uncomfortable, closing in all around me. A series of loud pops and cracks began as, one by one, bits of pressure were relieved, only to return elsewhere. Despite the lack of pain, the sound alone was enough to make me wince with each crunch or crackle. I couldn’t really see much, given how my vision had blurred from watery eyes and my muscles had locked up, leaving me face down in the seat cushions, but judging by the sounds just a few feet away, Tony was having a nearly identical experience to my own.

 

Once again, the pressure mounted on all sides, growing more and more intense. But just when the pressure began to grow truly distressing, one last loud crack split through the room. You know how when you wake up and your neck is stiff you get those big morning neck and back cracks that feel about as good as sex? This was like that, but times a hundred, and everywhere. And for real, no shame, I fucking moaned, hard. And as it just so happened, that was when I noticed the first actual change, because god damn, I had such a cute and pretty voice. Gone was that rough baritone from before, and in its place was this adorable little squeak of pleasure and relief that seemed to float right up and out of me effortlessly.  Even as I lay motionless, panting, barely able to move as my body settled, I found myself blushing and smiling to myself. Was that really how I sounded? That was just like any other girl; suddenly I could sound that way? No scratchy rough, gravel voice? No ugly booming? How fucking cool was that? 

 

Girls just had such nice voices; I loved listening to them, and I mean loved. It wouldn’t be inaccurate to say I’d spent many a night just getting off to the sound of some erotic audio recording or other from a voice actress with a husky, dulcet voice. Getting to hear something like that come from me was just so great, way better than any ugly man voice. It was enough to leave me giggling madly from excitement as tears welled up in my eyes, and that was just from my voice alone. I could fill entire notebooks describing all the different ways I was excited to simply take in all the changes which had doubtless happened to me, but I didn’t have a pen or notebook on hand. Plus, that time would be better spent actually taking in said body. On the other hand, though, the anticipation was fucking crushing me in ways that pressure I felt moments before never could. 

 

Like, it had happened. I was a girl now, sort of. And that was as terrifying as it was exciting ‘cause, well, what if it was wrong somehow? I wasn’t sure I could bear the thought of that, for some reason. What if I got up from this couch, looked down at my body and just hated what I saw? That would be crushing, wouldn’t it? For so damn long I had fantasized about this exact thing happening, but maybe it would be weird to actually live through it. And the idea of that, of finally getting what I wanted and having it not be everything I wanted it to be, scared the fucking piss out of me. Part of me just wanted to hide away in the couch cushions and never even move, just let myself be Schrodinger's girl. But then, somewhere up and to my left, I heard a soft gasp, then a tiny squeal, before some girl said my name.

 

“Brody?” she called to me, voice full of wonder and bewilderment. Before I could reply that voice broke into a fit of delighted giggles, and I raised my eyes. 

 

Sitting across from me on the couch was some adorably huggable woman whom I’d never seen before in my entire life. And okay, yeah, it was obviously Tony, but fuck. Imagining the changes was one thing, but seeing them? I had to take several moments to just stare blankly at her before my brain could gain any sort of functionality. It wasn’t my fault, okay? She—he? was gorgeous. 

 

Her hair was a shoulder length, slightly curly tangled mess of chestnut locks. She had a round, heart-shaped face with wide, expressive brown eyes, the sort people wrote sonnets about. Her skin looked so silky and smooth, with plump, gorgeous lips that formed a wide, excited smile which radiated pure joy and excitement. Every bit of her looked so pure and wholesome and happy. She was the kind of girl you would take home to your parents without even the slightest worry; the kind you’d see nuzzling into her partner’s side on a ferris-wheel, clutching a warm, fuzzy plushy which doubtless had just been won for her. Her voice sounded so sweet and giggly and happy and protectable, a voice that just made a person warm inside regardless of how attractive they found her. Also, while I couldn’t tell for certain from the front, by the looks of it she had a fucking dumptruck ass. 

 

“Tony?” I murmured, and, having been too dumbstruck to remember the way my own voice sounded, did a hard brain reset upon hearing that come out of my throat. My hand rose to touch my throat, feeling smooth flesh devoid of any hint of an Adam’s apple, and I gasped, then smiled, then laughed, then ran out of breath and began to pant hard.

 

For his own part, or her own part or whatever, Tony just kind of winced. “Um, y-yeah, it’s Tony. I guess when it’s just us we don’t really need to go by our girl names or refer to each other as girls, do we… b-bro?” 

 

Suddenly my whole body locked up as I realized how I kind of really didn’t want that, but also definitely didn’t want to be the weird one and insist Tony refer to me as a girl when we were clearly just doing this for a prank. Still, it felt bad; cause fuck, I hadn’t even gotten to peep my new body yet and I was already being reminded that I was still actually a guy, deep down. Was that how Tony felt too? I mean yeah he clearly had been curious about being a girl, and was excited to do the prank and maybe even for the fun experience of it all, but he probably didn’t feel as strongly as I did, right? The whole thing made me feel kind of ashamed, so I definitely wasn’t about to correct him and ask to be called Heather when it was just the two of us. “Oh, um, yeah I guess we don’t have to do that you’re right. Uh, what a relief right? Haha.” 

 

“Yeah, gosh I’d hate to have to pretend to be someone I’m not even around my best friend. Like, it’s gonna be hard enough—” he made a big show of performing an exaggerated eye-roll— “pretending to be a girl around Will and Rach. At least around each other we can, um, not have to pretend.” 

 

“Yeah,” I replied, feeling kind of bad for Tony; was this actually kind of hard for him? I wouldn’t want this whole prank and bet thing to make him uncomfortable. “You know dude, if this is going too far for you I wouldn’t hold it against you or tease you or anything if you wanted to go back—”

 

“No, no this is fine. I definitely want to keep doing the bet,” he blurted, voice shaking. “I mean, ‘cause it’s gonna be really funny, dawg. By the way, did you um, did you get the chance to see yourself yet?” he asked, seemingly eager to change the subject. I shook my head, then felt around for my phone on the couch. Immediately upon grasping it I was struck—and fascinated—by how much bigger it felt in my hands. I glanced down to input the unlock code, then just wound up kind of starting at the small dainty hands and long, slender fingers which were now mine. “Holy shit,” I whispered breathlessly. Somehow, I managed to get the proper brain-signals going to actually move my fingers properly, and unlocked the screen. Then it came time for the big moment, the reveal, the point-of-no-return. I closed my eyes, tapped my phone’s camera app icon, and raised it to my face.

 

My eyes fluttered open. I gasped. I was gorgeo—wait, this was the rear-facing camera; I was just looking at Tony, not myself. I blushed, then sheepishly tapped the switch cameras icon. Something about that awkward moment had deflated all the tension, and my correction came quickly and instinctually. The second my little thumb pressed down on the icon, though, time slowed to a crawl as my brain came to a skidding halt upon realizing the sheer gravity of what I’d just done. I inhaled sharply, blinked hard, felt and heard my heart hammering in my chest, then opened my eyes to see—well, me. That’s who she was, me. A really, really pretty girl version of me. But still so clearly me. Like someone had taken all of my best features, made them better, and then replaced all of my worst features with even better features in a way that felt like they were supposed to have been that way all along. 

 

The first thing I noticed was how god damn long my hair had gotten, which made sense, ‘cause holy shit could I ever suddenly feel its weight. The wavy, soft strands of auburn hair reached about down to my mid-back. I really wanted to touch my hair, to play with it and pet it; then I realized I could do just that and started running my free hand through it giddily. And oh my god, it really was so, so soft. While I, well, pet myself, I spent some time scrutinizing my face; from my cute button nose, to my full dimples and expressive eyes, I found the whole thing a lot nicer to look at this way. My lips had this perfect little cupid’s bow, and, maybe it was just my mood, but I had the kind of face that seemed constantly on the verge of breaking out into laughter. Just for fun, I let myself giggle a little to see how I looked. My eyes shone, my teeth sparkled, my adorable little nose scrunched up. I was quite the picture, honestly. I made a mental note to take some actual pictures, when I got the opportunity. In the meantime, though, I just wanted to revel in how amazing it was to see that in the mirror. Doing anything else felt pretty herculean. Who could really blame me, though? What guy wouldn’t want to just get to see a pretty girl whenever he wanted? All guys, obviously, wanted that. All of them. Yep.

 

Moving on, I tucked my phone away so I could examine my body and holy shit I had boobs. For really. Feeling like every stereotype in all those gender-bender anime and manga I’d seen and read, I let my hands fly to my chest and just spend a solid minute or so groping myself with a big, stupid smile on my face, giggling the whole time. As I did that, I let my gaze trace my form; my waist was so thin, and god dang my hips were so wide and legs so long and feet so tiny and I was so tiny. I hadn’t really taken the time to process it but everything looked so much bigger now. Even Tony had looked taller than me and I had always been the tall one. Unable to ignore it any longer, and with a blush on my face, I checked one last thing. I pulled my waistband forward and—yep, that was it, that was the thing. Or, from this angle at least, the lack of thing. God that felt cool to see. Really, too good to be true almost. That had to mean something, right? And then I realized it, as the reality of the situation smacked me upside the head. God, how could I have been so clueless this whole time? Excitement building, I snapped my waistband back into place, then returned Tony’s gaze with a wide, giddy grin. 

 

“Pretty cool, right?” he asked.

 

“Yep!” I chirped, taking a moment to appreciate the sound once more, then laughing maniacally and practically falling over onto my side. 

 

“What is it?” he asked, bewildered

 

I hauled myself back up. “Hey, guess what?” 

 

“I just asked what,” he said, rolling his eyes.

 

“Well, I was just thinking about how great and cool and amazing all this was. How easy and nice this is, and I realized something. Something big, game changing, really. You know what it is?” 

 

“I already asked what twice now, dude.”

 

“Sorry, it’s just—I’m so excited, Being like this is so easy and effortless. I’ve never felt this way before in my entire life. It made me finally understand…” 

 

“Holy shit, just tell me, bro. What. Is. It?” Tony shouted 

 

 A smile crossed my face. “I’m gonna fucking destroy you at this bet, bro.”