SRU: Coming Clean free porn video

SRU: Coming Clean ElrodW Synopsis: A boss has a problem with a lecherous employee who he also suspects frequently masturbates in the restroom. When he bumps into the SRU wizard, he finds a special toilet cleaner that the wiz promises will fix the problem. [email protected] ********************************************************************** SRU: Coming Clean John Fielding sighed and shook his head sadly as he zipped up his pants. It was quitting time, it was Friday, and he was ready to start his weekend. As the owner of a small web design firm, he made it his habit to leave last. With no family, yet, he was totally dedicated to his company. By setting an example of hard work, he hoped he was inspiring his employees. And it seemed to work. Hang Ten had nine employees, not counting himself, and his good work habits and insistence on excellence was paying off quite well. His company had a six-month backlog of work, and with the new contract he'd signed that afternoon, he was going to have to hire a couple more coders and a graphics artist. He cringed at that last thought. If only he hadn't lost Angie. She'd resigned a couple of weeks ago, and she was initially evasive about why. But when John pressed her, she confirmed that she was uncomfortable around Greg, and that he was making the workplace intolerable. And John knew that Angie was going to talk about the company, and in particular, the work atmosphere. Hiring was going to get tough. John knew he had a problem with Greg, even as he knew that he couldn't get rid of him. Greg was the designer and owner of a vital piece of design software, a plug-in that made Hang Ten's work outshine the competition. If Greg left, the company would lose that software, and with it, their edge. And if Greg went to a competitor, as he surely would, well, John didn't like to think of what it would mean to Hang Ten. John glanced one last time at the urinal in the unisex bathroom and felt his repulsion. There was the usual mess, and John knew what it was. Semen. Greg's, to be precise. On the urinal, on the floor, on the toilet. Not only did Greg make lewd comments and jokes, but he also frequently used the restroom to masturbate, and he never cleaned up his mess. This made the restroom a repugnant place, especially for his female workers. And yet, John was afraid to confront Greg. The subject was too personal, and he needed Greg's software. John had asked the owners of the building to put in a second bathroom, even offered to pay half the costs. The problem was that the building was in a historical district; it was even in some kind of national historical registry. Getting a permit to _apply_ for a construction permit would take another year at least. John didn't have a year. He had to do something, and soon.... ********** The work problem was so distracting that John almost missed the parking spot. Shaking his head, he pulled in, lucky to be right next to the mall entrance. Sighing once more, he walked heavily into the mall. Maybe, he hoped, a good movie would get his mind off the problem. Without really watching what he was doing, he walked straight to the movie store. Only the movie store wasn't there. John stopped short, confused, and stared at the spot where he knew the movie store was. He glanced back and forth, checking to see the bordering stores, and then he looked back at the quaint little old-fashioned storefront. The display windows held a vast assortment of items, from costumes to antique bottles and vials, videotapes to old jewelry. A sign hung overhead, a weathered old board reading "Spells R Us". And the little shop even had a door, a feature unheard of in malls, and John thought probably against some kind of mall rules. John started to walk off, but something seemed to be beckoning him. Slowly, his curiosity piqued by the store, he pulled open the door. The sound of the bell overhead surprised him pleasantly; it was a quaint old-time reminder of growing up. He stepped into the little store, and his jaw dropped as he looked around. It was the most amazing assortment of mismatched odds and ends he'd ever seen. A stand held convenience items such as aspirin and shampoo. Another display held more old jewelry. One wall seemed to be covered with a rack of costumes, mostly female, John noted. A dusty shelf contained videotapes, but with curious titles. Games, both board and computer, spilled out of one rack. Antique furniture was overflowing with knick-knacks and trinkets. "Amazing," John muttered to himself. It seemed that the store was larger than the storefront hinted, and the contents were the exact type of stuff that John's mom used to peruse. The memory was sweet, bringing a smile to John's face. "Most people think of my merchandise as junk," a voice called out behind John. John spun and found himself face-to-face with a strange little man. He wore what appeared to be a well-worn old bathrobe, almost midnight blue in color. A curious smile adorned his weathered face. For a moment, John wondered if this wasn't what Santa would look like without the beard and red suit. "No, he's much larger," the old man chuckled, as if reading John's mind. "Now, Nathaniel, what can I help you with?" John started and then his face clouded. "That..." He didn't get to finish his thoughts. The old man looked surprised for a moment. "Oh, dear me! I am so sorry. I should have known that you go by your middle name, John." He shook his head. "Taxes, you know. Kind of distracting. My quarterly taxes are due, which means I'm up to my neck in the books." He smiled faintly. "But then, you know all about running a successful business, don't you?" John stood, his mouth agape. How had this old man known...? A thought intruded into John's mind, a very recent image he'd seen. A plain sign - that he'd seen behind the counter. 'Because I'm a wizard, that's how.' It was a sign whose words answered an unspoken question that the old man had heard many, many times - the same question that John now had. Had the old man read his mind? John decided to shelve the idea. If the man were truly a wizard, then it might not be wise for John to irritate him. And if he wasn't, he might be a crackpot. "I just decided to look around," John finally said. "Interesting things you have in here." He saw a curious necklace on a table and started to reach for it. The old man grabbed his hand. "Oh, no," he warned. "That's not for you. Trust me - you don't want to touch that." John frowned. A curio shop whose proprietor wouldn't let his customers touch the merchandise? "No, what you need is over here," the old man continued. He stepped around John toward the back of his shop. "What I need? For what?" John hastened to follow him, puzzled by his statement. The old man stopped at a shelf full of cleaning supplies. "Why, for your little problem at work, of course!" Ever the cheerful smile, the know-it-all attitude. John's frown deepened. He'd told no one about the problem. "How...?" "John, my boy, you were wise enough to not ask before. Why change that now?" the old man clucked. "Your employee is going to destroy your company with his lecherous and disgusting behavior." He reached up on the shelf, pulled down a dusty old bottle, and blew the dust away. "Ah, yes. This is the one." He held it up to John like a trophy. "X-Change Bathroom Cleanser." John gently took the bottle and examined it. Apart from the label, it looked like any other bottle of cleanser he'd ever seen. "Uh, pardon me for seeming, uh, stupid, but how is this going to help with my problem?" The old man smiled. "Just use this cleanser on your bathroom fixtures. After two or three uses, it will make the problem go away." He smiled in a way that was supposed to be friendly and comforting. The old man glanced around furtively, and then continued in a hushed tone, as if betraying state secrets. "You see, it...um...reacts with semen. More specifically, the cleanser has a most unpleasant reaction to sperm." John frowned. "So if my employee were to masturbate..." The old man grinned triumphantly. "The reaction is sufficiently unpleasant that it should deter him from this behavior." John scowled. "But what if it doesn't?" The old man was unfazed. "Good question," he smiled. "Further reactions become more, shall we say, unpleasant and lasting?" John looked doubtful. "It sounds too good to be true," he admitted sheepishly. Somehow though, John felt comfortable with this old man, sure that he wasn't just being conned. "But I've got to do something. How much?" "Normally, it's twelve ninety-five. But I'll give it to you for five." He leaned a bit closer and his eyes twinkled. "You see, I'm expecting some kickbacks on this sale." Not really knowing why, John opened his wallet and pulled out a new crisp five-dollar bill. He followed the old man to the counter, and as the man rang up the purchase, he looked at John. "Oh, be very careful about following the instructions precisely. Otherwise the results can be quite unpredictable." ********** John held up the bottle, reading carefully the small print of the instructions. 'Use as a normal bathroom cleanser to clean toilets and urinals. Do not rinse cleanser from porcelain. Do not apply more than once per day. Discontinue use immediately after desired result appears. Use only in men's rest rooms.' John frowned. Somehow he had the distinct impression that he'd been had. But still, bathroom cleaner was bathroom cleaner. He twisted the spray top open, then he squirted the cleanser on the clean white porcelain of the urinal. The spray seemed to vanish into the ceramic itself, leaving no trace. John tried another squirt, and again the cleanser vanished. John shrugged, then he repeated the process on the toilet. ********** Greg leered at Marcie, the secretary, as he walked past. He'd made a comment about how he wished he'd spent the weekend; as usual, it involved himself and a large-breasted woman. Marcie refused to glance up at Greg. She saw his leering and heard his comments, but she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of responding. Greg chuckled to himself. He'd gotten under her skin again. How much longer was she going to hold out on him, he wondered? It was just a matter of time. Then he'd give her a proper screwing. _That_ would straighten out her attitude. He felt his dick stiffening at the thought of boinking Marcie. A sly grin formed on his face, and he changed course. Time for the restroom. Greg locked the door and then stepped to the urinal. He dropped his pants to his ankles and fondled his engorged prick. He was getting hornier by the second, and as he started to stroke his willy, he closed his eyes and imagined Marcie riding him, her boobs bouncing and swaying with the rhythm of his thrusts. Quickly his excitement built, and within moments he stiffened and his dick spurted a load of cum into the urinal. Greg felt a rush of pleasure course through him. And then he felt himself pulled tightly against the urinal, held by some unseen force. He pried his upper body back, and he could see through the crack down into the white porcelain. His cum was gone, vanished as if by magic. But what was worse was that the urinal looked alive. The bottom was moving, slowly forming into an appendage which pointed up. Greg felt terror grip him as the porcelain continued to grow and lengthen. He tried to scream, but no noise would come out. And the porcelain protrusion continued to grow. It was a dick. There was no denying that. The appendage was shaped like a large white penis. It continued to move upward, until Greg felt a cool touch on his scrotum. The cool touch turned into a fiery pain blasting through his crotch and belly. Then it vanished. Greg felt tears forming in his eyes, and he wanted desperately to cry out for help. Still, no words would come. It was as if his vocal chords had been silenced. And then Greg felt something he'd never imagined feeling. The porcelain dick continued to grow, thrusting ever upward - and into him! Greg felt the dick sliding inside him, and then it started pumping, moving up and down. He looked again, and he could see the dick vanishing into ... a pussy! He had a pussy, and the porcelain dick was fucking him! And even as he tried once more to scream his protest, he felt his crotch getting warm and wet. A pleasant sensation started in his loins, spreading quickly. Still the dick pumped, and Greg felt himself trembling with a burst of pleasure as an orgasm overtook his body. On and on it went, causing him to nearly black out with the utter delight of the sensations. Finally, it was over. He nearly collapsed when the magic force suddenly let him go. His knees were wobbly, and he caught himself on the sink. For several seconds Greg held himself there, unwilling or unable to look at himself. Finally he mustered the courage to scrutinize his crotch. It was there - looking just as big and masculine as ever. Greg sighed with relief. He shook his head to clear it. Something weird had happened. Or had he just imagined it? It had felt so real. And yet, it was impossible. There was no evidence that it had happened! Greg pulled up his pants and splashed cold water on his face. He resolved, like he always did after masturbating, not to do it in the office again. Especially after an experience like he'd just had! As Greg walked past his office, John looked up. Greg looked white - like something had thoroughly rattled him. And there was something else. John couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something about Greg seemed a little different. Greg's resolve lasted until just after lunch. John knew that Greg usually ate with the guys at Hooters. And as usual, Greg came back quite aroused from the cleavage and bouncing boobs of the Hooters girls. He went into the rest room, vowing to himself that he wasn't going to whack off. He pulled out his dick and peed into the urinal, assuring himself all the while that he wasn't going to do it. And yet, his dick was so hard that his needs were almost painful! As he started to tuck his dick back into his pants, Greg lost his battle. He began to stroke his dick again, rolling his eyes as the physical pleasure drowned out his last remaining willpower. In short order, a drop of pre-cum fell from the tip of his aroused pecker into the urinal. And once again, the urinal pulled him into it, just like before. Once more Greg's eyes widened in fear as he was held by the invisible bonds. Somehow his hand was pushed aside, leaving his dick alone in the urinal. Greg levered his upper body back from the top of the fixture, struggling as he was to see what was happening. The porcelain reached out toward Greg's dick. This time, however, it wasn't forming into a dick. It was - lips! The porcelain felt momentarily cold against his dick, but then it got warm as if a mouth had encompassed his organ. Greg shivered with delight as the ceramic mouth stroked his dick, feeling every bit like a real woman giving him a blowjob. His excitement mounted until he shot his load into the porcelain. Greg sighed silently, pleased with the release of sexual tension, even if it happened under extremely strange circumstances. His contentment lasted but a moment; the porcelain was suddenly cold again, and then the burning pain shot through his crotch once more. And once again, Greg saw the porcelain forming into a dick. It was larger this time, and it moved toward his crotch. He wanted to scream as it touched him, pushed into him. Without warning, his hips started to buck as his subconscious mind took advantage of the carnal pleasure. Up and down he rode on the fake dick, all the while feeling the womanly orgasm getting nearer and nearer until it overwhelmed his senses. ********** John glanced up and saw Greg standing in his doorway. "Yes?" he asked politely. Greg held out a folder. "Here are the requirements for the restaurant job, and the cost estimate." His voice sounded a little different. John glanced at Greg and wondered if he had a cold or something. He took the folder and smiled. "Good work." As he opened the folder, he glanced up as Greg turned. John stopped and stared. Something was definitely different. It only took a second for John to realize what it was. Greg's butt was rounder, much more feminine in appearance. And that wasn't all; his hips seemed a bit wider - or his waist seemed narrower. Like he'd been altered toward female proportions. But that was impossible! And yet.... ********** John wondered about the magic cleaner as he stared at the sparkling porcelain. It had definitely done something to Greg. For a moment he wondered if it was fair to do this. Then he remembered Greg's comment to Angie before she'd left - how small-breasted women really weren't worthy of a man's attention. John's features clouded with anger. Angie had been more than just an employee; she'd been a good friend. John sprayed the toilet and urinal. ********** Greg held out until late morning. Then he just had to get some relief. He didn't really want to masturbate in the rest room for some reason. But he couldn't quite put his finger on why. It was as if he'd forgotten the exact reason. But he couldn't stop his irresistible urge. He _needed_ his release. Especially the way Jennifer was dressed - with her low-cut blouse and short skirt. Greg imagined how Jennifer would feel wrapped around his hard shaft. In moments he was stroking himself. This time, however, some inner voice told him not to use the urinal. Instead he stood over the toilet and stroked until he came. His warm seed dribbled into the bowl as his body trembled with his orgasm. Unseen hands clutched at Greg, turning him and pulling him down until he was held on the toilet seat. He couldn't move except to peer down between his legs. And once again, the porcelain formed into a large white male organ. Upward it crawled, larger and longer than before, until it penetrated Greg. His hips bucked as he rode the phallus, orgasm after orgasm wracking his body until he nearly passed out from the foreign pleasure. ********** John watched as Greg walked past his office. He could see the changes in Greg; Greg's hair was longer, cut in a short sassy feminine style. His hips were wider, and there was a noticeable wiggle in his walk - just like a girl. And with his round ass, from the narrowed waist down, Greg's outline looked all too girlish. And...John gasped! Greg had... breasts? John's eyes narrowed as he stared. Yes! On his chest were the unmistakable outlines of breasts, small conical bosoms sprouting forth, but breasts nonetheless! John stepped out of his office to his secretary, still watching as Greg walked down the hall. "Marcie," he began uneasily, "have you noticed anything, er, unusual about Greg?" Marcie glanced down the hall, then she shook her head. "No," she said cautiously. "Why?" John's unease deepened. "Like his hair? Or weight loss? Anything?" Marcie was shaking her head. "No, not really." She glanced up at her boss. "You mean apart from his spending lots of time in the restroom?" John clamped his eyes shut, trying to figure it out. He could see - Greg had a woman's figure! He was growing boobs, for crying out loud! And that ass? How could Marcie miss that? And yet, she did. John trembled - was he the one going nuts? "Never mind," he muttered as he slinked back into his office. ********** A knock on the door roused John from his mental fog. Startled, he glanced up quickly. And then he did a double take. Greg was standing in his doorway, knocking to get his attention. Only it wasn't Greg. Sure, there were traces of Greg's face, like it was Greg's sister, but it sure wasn't Greg. Greg was shorter, perhaps by six inches. John guessed he was maybe five foot five. Trim, at one hundred twenty, give or take a few pounds. His reddish-brown hair was done in a neat flip, turned under at the ends just above his shoulders, and parted in the middle, the ends swept behind his earring-studded ears. Big soft green eyes and sensuous lips made Greg look like a model or movie star. John started again; below his - no, _her_ neck, the top couple of buttons on _her_ white blouse were open, displaying a single pearl on a necklace dangling tantalizingly above a valley of cleavage. Greg's breasts tugged at the remaining buttons in a strategically designed and enticing manner. The blouse tapered, displaying Greg's narrow waist and flat stomach before it vanished into the waistband of a short, short red skirt, which flared around wide feminine hips. Below the hem were smooth curvy legs, soft and as un-masculine as they could get. From his angle, John couldn't see if they were just well tanned or Greg was wearing nylons. And on his feet were a pair of high-heeled pumps! "Uh, yeah?" John was suddenly very nervous. Greg smiled. "We got the MovieMax site ready for demo. You want to see it?" John shook his head, as much to say 'no' as to clear the cobwebs. Something very strange had happened to Greg, but Greg didn't seem to notice. Greg flashed a killer smile and leaned forward across John's desk. John gulped as he saw the valley of cleavage displayed so brashly, and just inches in front of his face. He swallowed hard, then forced himself to look up. And directly into those stunning green eyes, even as Greg licked his full sensuous lips seductively. John felt his knees get weak and his heart race. "Is there anything else you'd like to see?" Greg asked in a breathy voice. John fought the surge of panic. Greg ... changed into a woman? And now coming on to him? And so...gorgeous? He struggled against his conflicting feelings, and then he tore his gaze from those eyes. "Oh shit!" he exclaimed as he saw the clock. It was past 5:30; somehow, John had been in his trance-like state all afternoon. "Uh, I've got an appointment," he stammered as he lurched from his chair. He knew he had to get out of this place. And get some answers. John stopped by the bathroom and bolted the door. He leaned heavily back against it, his knees knocking and his hands trembling. What the hell had happened? Greg...wasn't Greg! He - she - was a knockout woman! The old man and that cleaner! John remembered something that the old man had said; the reaction would become more extreme and longer lasting! Somehow, that magic cleaner had done this to Greg! John knew what he had to do - he had to get that cleaner and get back to that strange old man - to see if he could undo the changes! He opened the small cabinet where the cleaning supplies were kept. John's heart leaped into his throat. The cleaner - was missing! It wasn't there! He fumbled through the cabinet, spilling its contents onto the floor, frantically searching. But the cleaner was not there any more. John sat down heavily on the closed toilet lid. Where was it? Who...? Like a light turning on, John knew. The building had a janitorial service that took care of the offices. One of them must have taken the cleaner. Twenty minutes later, John wasn't any closer to the missing cleaner. But he had narrowed down the search. It was probably in the hands of one of the janitors, Carlo, who regularly did his office. Frustrated and confused, John went back to the mall. Even without the cleaner, he could get some answers from the old man. The main problem was that the old man and his strange little store weren't there. John walked all around the mall, but he still couldn't find the store. Weary, still confused, John went home. ********** "Eh, Marcie?" John leaned on the office doorframe, watching as Greg - Julie, as she was calling herself - sauntered down the hall. "Yeah?" "You don't notice anything...unusual lately?" Marcie frowned. "No, not really," she said after thinking for a moment. "Julie's still teasing all the guys. Oh, and she's wearing new perfume. Is that what you're thinking?" John frowned. "No. It's like she's...changed." "Well, duh!" Marcie commented sarcastically. "I mean, you have to be blind not to notice her new hair style!" She glanced at John. "But, like that's old news." Then she added, under her breath, "Except to guys!" John walked slowly back into his office. His world was awhirl; one of his key guys was now a girl - just as talented, but without the bad habit she'd had as Greg. And no one seemed to notice! Was this worth it? He'd saved the company, but only by changing Greg? ********** Slowly John forgot about Greg and the cleaner. He'd spent the entire weekend working on a proposal, and even though Julie and a couple of others had been in the office, by the time Monday morning rolled around, it seemed that Julie had always been in the office. John was checking his schedule with Marcie when Ray came in late. He looked sheepishly at John, trying hard to suppress a grin. "Sorry I'm late. Things...uh...kind of came up." He walked down the hall to his office, whistling happily as he walked. John shook his head as he watched Ray walk. "I wish I felt that enthusiastic," he observed. Marcie glanced up at John. "Maybe if you got some this morning, you'd be whistling, too," she commented knowingly. She grinned, then turned back to the schedule. Moments later, the restroom door opened and a girl came out. She was tall and slender, and very conservatively dressed in a knee-length gray plaid skirt, a pleated-front white blouse, and her brunette hair worn in a tight bun. With her glasses, she looked like a librarian. John watched in shock as she walked; she acted like she belonged here. "Oh, Rachel," Marcie interrupted her work for a moment and looked up. The girl stopped, and John realized she was nearly as tall as he was. "Are you going to lunch today with Angie and me?" Rachel smiled. "Sure." She looked at John. "Unless you've got a new impossible deadline for something you haven't told us about yet." Her comment was sweet, delivered in the woman's pleasant alto, and her tone was lighthearted, almost joking. John shook his head, feeling slightly confused. "No," he stammered. Something seemed familiar about the girl. Rachel smiled at John. "Sure. Eleven thirty? At Marconi's?" She turned and sauntered away, her hips swaying in a most deliciously feminine manner. "So, you were saying?" Marcie's voice interrupted John's puzzled thoughts. "Oh, nothing." He turned and walked back to his office, a frown on his face. Things seemed - wrong. Rachel? He didn't recognize her. And yet, something seemed familiar.... The answer hit John like a lightening bolt. Rachel reminded him of Ray. Facially, she looked like his sister. John poked his head out of his office. "Say, Marcie, when Ray comes by, tell him I need to talk to him." Marcie cocked her head to one side, her brow wrinkled in a frown. "Ray? Ray who?" At that moment, Julie walked by, looking bright and happy. And... perkier? John stared for a moment at her figure. She looked...curvier? More feminine? And sexier? Or was he just imagining it, like the entire thing with Ray? John felt confused. Julie glanced up and saw John staring at her. John felt his cheeks redden; he shouldn't have been staring at her like he was. But instead of getting angry, Julie smiled, then she winked and licked her lips seductively in a bold invitation. John retreated into his office. Something else was bothering him. He couldn't quite place it, so he began to replay his conversation with Marcie. Suddenly, it hit him. Angie. Marcie was going to lunch with Angie. But...Angie quit! John saw Marcie leaving for lunch - with Rachel and...Angie! But Angie quit! What was she doing here? And with an employees badge? It wasn't making any sense. John stared after the trio long after they'd left the office. Something else was nagging at him. Angie was...different! John tried to shake off the strange feeling, but he couldn't. Instead, he turned and called up his employee records. His jaw dropped when he came to Angie's file. She was still an employee! He sat back in his chair, his jaw hanging open as he stared at the computer screen. Somehow, Angie still worked here! Which meant his problem had been solved. In fact, it had never existed! As John contemplated this impossibility, it hit him. He knew what was different about Angie. She was...curvier. No longer flat-chested, she had generous breasts and a nice curvy figure. He sat in his chair through lunch, his mind feverishly trying to make sense of the overwhelming changes and contradictions that confronted him. And apparently, no one else noticed! ********** John felt refreshed when he stepped into his office Monday morning nearly two weeks later. Marcie poked her head in even before he sat down. "So how was the conference?" she asked in light conversation. John flopped down in his chair. "It was great," he answered with a smile. "I needed the break." Then he chuckled. "And I think I made a couple of contacts that could turn into new business." Marcie laughed with him. "I swear, if I sent you to an amusement park, you'd figure out some way to do business." John laughed aloud. "That's my job," he replied. "Oh, can you set up a staff meeting for this afternoon? There are a couple of things I'd like to brief everyone on." ********** John staggered back into his office. The staff meeting - it had been a disaster. For him, that is. Of his ten employees, he'd had Jennifer, Angie, and Marcie plus the seven guys. Now, he had Norm and the nine girls! And the girls - they all looked sexier, much more feminine and alluring! And everyone was acting like things were perfectly normal! When he asked Marcie about Bob and Chuck and Allen, she looked at him like he was an alien. Did he mean Bobbi and Charlotte and Elaine? He'd barely managed to get through his notes before he fled back to his office. There, he found something even more peculiar. His staff records showed he had eight women and Norm working for him. He fought the whirling in his mind; surely he hadn't gone nuts, had he? Marcie stepped in the office. "Are you okay?" she asked, concern evident in her voice. "You look like you've seen a ghost." John waved his hand as he shook his head. "I'm just tired," he said, while inside his head, he was wondering what was going on. Something.... It hit him like a light turning on. The cleaner. The strange cleaner that the strange little old man in the store had sold him. The one that made - Greg, was it? - into a girl. Or did it? Somehow, his memories of Greg seemed faint - as if he'd just imagined it. He bolted out of his chair, knowing he had to go find the old man. As he hastened out the door, he saw Julie and Michelle, another girl he didn't remember but who was apparently on his staff, standing in the hall talking to Norm. And both girls seemed to be trying hard to get Norm's attention. The store wasn't there. The curious little store with the weathered sign and door was nowhere to be found, in fact. John walked through the entire mall. Twice. But he had no luck. No store, no curious little man in a bathrobe, no magical bathroom cleaner. John wore his fatigue like a suit by the time he got home. All night, John tossed and turned, wondering what was going on. Was he going mad? Or had he really met the little man and gotten something magical? And his staff? Had he always had girls working for him, like his records said? But if that were true, then why could he still remember Bob and Chuck and Sam and Fred and Michael and Allen? He slept fitfully, his rest interrupted by dreams of the little man spraying the toilet cleaner directly on his friends, which caused them to turn, before his very eyes, into curvy ladies who then tried to seduce him. John snapped awake early, his eyes wide and his body covered with sweat. He knew, somehow, that he hadn't been imagining things. He knew that he'd started this whole crazy thing with the bathroom cleaner. And then it had disappeared. The streets were deserted at three-thirty in the morning as John drove quickly to his office. He ran through the building, and burst into his office. As John expected, the lights were on. He walked very deliberately toward his office's restroom. The sound of singing came from that direction; it was a soft, lovely woman's voice, and John thought the words were Spanish. When John came around the corner, the woman jumped, startled. "Sorry," John said quickly to calm her. "I'm looking for Carlo, the guy who usually cleans," he explained quickly. The girl looked at him, her brown eyes wide with a mixture of fear and curiosity. "No comprende," she said hastily. "Carlo," John said slowly, as if speaking slowly would somehow make it possible for her to understand. "Carlo." The girl's eyes narrowed, then she began to spew forth a stream of Spanish. John caught only a word or two. Carlo, Carmencita. He held up his hands. "I don't understand. Do you know Carlo?" The girl shook her head again. "Carlo? No Carlo. Carmencita!" John sighed. This was getting him nowhere. Then he spotted a bottle. With his eyes aglow, he grabbed the bottle. "This cleaner - where did you get it?" He held out the bottle of X-change cleaner the old man had sold him. Carmencita looked warily at him. "Que?" she asked. "No comprende." She didn't understand his question, that much was clear. Then she started another rapid-fire stream of Spanish, and it was John's turn to shake his head. The girl took the bottle, then she shook it. John's heart sank as he heard no sloshing liquid. The bottle was empty. Carmencita took the empty bottle and threw it into the garbage can. As he walked slowly to his office, John realized what had happened. The girl had gotten his bottle of cleaner, and instead of just Greg getting treated, his entire staff had been somehow altered by the magical cleaner. He sank into his chair, and his head dropped onto his arms, a visibly symbol of his fatigue and sense of loss. ********** John glanced up as Norm walked past with both Elaine and Julie on his arms. Norm glanced into John's office, a broad grin on his face, and gave John a wink. John stared in disbelief for a second, then he rubbed his eyes and looked at the clock. Eight-thirty. John stood and stretched. His muscles ached from the awkward position that he'd finally fallen asleep in. John yawned and walked slowly toward the restroom. Just before he got there, Norm, with a quick grin at John, slipped in. John heard the door lock, and he muttered a soft oath. His bladder needed emptying, and badly. John danced by the drinking fountain, anxiously waiting. He heard a flush, and then the splashing of water. Relief was at hand. The door opened, and John was crowding it, eager to get his turn. He stopped cold. A curvy woman stood in the doorway, blocking it, surprised by his presence. Long brunette hair, ample bosom, and a movie-star smile, she tried to duck out of John's way, and in doing so, presented her profile, bosoms extended, to him. John glanced uncertainly at her, then the call of nature reasserted itself. He forgot about the girl and slipped inside the restroom. With a glance over his shoulder, he let the door shut and stepped to the urinal. Having finished that order of business, John splashed cold water on his face and stared into the mirror. He looked awful, with dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. His hair was mussed, and he felt as bad as he looked. Slowly, he felt life creeping back into him. And with it came the sudden realization that he'd seen Norm go into the restroom, and an attractive young lady had come out. He knew, with sickening certainty, that if he looked at his personnel records, he'd find that all of his employees would be women. ********** The day was speeding by, and John didn't even notice. Seeing Norm change into Norma had rattled him thoroughly, and with the change in the rest of his staff, John's mind decided to take a vacation, leaving him sitting in his chair while it retreated from a situation that was absolutely impossible and inconceivable. By late-afternoon, however, John started to stir again. He had to; business wouldn't continue without him. "Marcie, has Rachel got that proposal ready to review yet?" he yelled out the door. Marcie glanced in. "Yeah, she said she's ready whenever you are. I'll get her, if that's okay?" "Sure." John turned and pulled a folder from his file cabinet. As John started to review the folder, Rachel slipped into the office and sat down. After a moment, he looked up, his mind refreshed about the effort. Rachel smiled. "Okay, what have you got?" Rachel scooted her chair closer to John's desk. She opened her folder to show John her work. The exchange between the two was fast and furious, technical, and thoroughly professional. It also lasted quite late. Finally, John sat back. His tie was loose and his shirt-sleeves rolled up. "Well, with these changes, I think we'll get the job." Rachel grinned. "Just your usual _minor_ changes, eh?" She smiled, then she reached up slowly to her hair. Slowly, deliberately, she pulled the bobby pins, and her hair cascaded down, loosened from the tight bun. It flowed loosely and beautifully around her face, and as she took off her glasses, he could see a real beauty hiding behind her prim formal facade. She smiled at John licking her lips, and then she slowly unbuttoned the top buttons of her blouse. John stood, transfixed. Inside, his emotions raged in an all-out war. This was Ray, part of his mind said. Ray, a friend and male employee, somehow magically changed into this girl. But Rachel - she was absolutely gorgeous! Her soft brown eyes were so inviting, and with her blouse unbuttoned, he could see the creamy cleavage of her bosom, so tantalizing and so close! But she's an employee, and it wouldn't be right! But it's consensual, and she's starting the whole thing! Besides, if the former-president could do it.... John swallowed hard, feeling his body stirring with arousal. "Should I continue?" she asked in a sweet innocent voice, her eyes begging John to say yes. John gulped again. He wanted desperately to say no, to stop. But his mouth said 'yes' in a soft whisper. Rachel slipped her blouse off, and in moments, her bra joined it on the floor. She circled the desk and after pressing him back into his seat, she sat on his lap, her back arched so her breasts were in his face. She felt his warm breath, and then his tongue and lips on her nipples, and she began to run her fingers through his hair as she rubbed her crotch against John's aroused body. ********** John felt weak as he stepped into the restroom. He glanced over his shoulder, giving a smile to Rachel as she gathered her things to leave work. She smiled back, then blew him a kiss. John knew he'd have some consequences to deal with. For one thing, the other girls were probably going to hear about his little tryst. And if he did anything that looked like favoritism, the others would notice. But for the moment, he sighed contentedly and ignored all that. Instead, he stepped to the urinal and began to pee. John was just finishing shaking off the last drops of pee when he felt some unseen force grab him. Like a vice, it squeezed him, pulling him close and against the ceramic fixture. Panic gripped John as he fought the irresistible force. He levered his upper body back from the urinal just in time to see the porcelain begin to stir, growing like a living thing. And it was forming into what looked to be a penis! Not only that, but it was moving his way! John fought, struggling against the invisible hands that held him fast. And all the while, the white phallus moved steadily closer, until it touched him. A brief cold caused a shiver to course up John's spine, and then it seemed unnaturally warm. John felt his body moving, shifting under the relentless pressure of the white dildo-like protrusion, and suddenly, he knew that it was inside him. Somehow, impossibly, John knew that the ceramic phallus had penetrated him. Through the small crack between himself and the urinal, he could see no trace of his pecker or balls; instead, he saw a neatly trimmed triangular patch of pubic hair and a soft mound. And in the middle of all that, a white prick began to move, slowly at first, in and out. John felt himself getting uncontrollably horny. This was impossible; he wanted to shout for help! But no sound would come from his voice. And as the sensations continued, John felt himself beginning to move. Impossibly, against his will, his hips began to move in time with the phallus, moving to make the penetrations deeper even as his pussy got hotter and wetter. John struggled to look down, and even as he peered, his mind torn between the incredibly powerful sexual stimulation and the terror of what was happening, John saw bulges beginning to form on his chest. Small and conical, they grew and grew, enlarging until they stuck out like one of Madonna's steel bras. And then the growth stopped, or more precisely, the outward growth. For they continued to grow, but now, they were filling out, becoming softer and rounder. John's view of the prick penetrating him vanished as his breasts pushed his shirt outward. And even that was changing! John's eyes widened as the fabric seemed to rearrange itself. The buttons seemed to suddenly jump, from the normal male pattern on the right side to the normal feminine configuration of the left side. The pocket melted into the white fabric even as it began to slowly change color. From the threads, colorful embroidery grew like vines, snaking and twisting around the collar and placket, weaving their way into leaves and vines and burgundy roses. John's legs grew slowly chilly, not that he noticed as he frantically humped the living phallus of the urinal. His navy blue suit pants flowed up his legs, the pant legs merging into a single tube-like opening. It tucked and flared around his expanding, rounding ass. As it reached his knees, the flow slowed, and a hem formed, while the clasp migrated around from the center front to the side. John felt his heels lift; had he been able to, he would have seen his shoes, the conservative Oxfords he normally wore, rearrange themselves into deep blue pumps even as the heels grew to nearly two inches in height. John knew it was happening, but he didn't care. More to the point, his rational left-half brain was carefully noting these data points, but the pure carnal sensations flowing from his crotch were overwhelming any attempt to make sense of the situation. On and on it went, the phallus pumping him as orgasm after orgasm wracked his rearranged body. He tilted his head back, in part to scream his ecstasy and in part to get the long auburn locks away from his eyes. No sound came out, but his body trembled and quivered with the succession of orgasms the porcelain dildo stirred in him. ********** John felt his world spinning wildly as he stepped out of the restroom. He was...a she! He glanced down again, at the impossibly large and feminine orbs protruding from his chest. Swirls of auburn hair danced around his face, the tresses flowing down off his shoulders by an inch or two. He felt his feet, small and delicate, as he walked in the high- heeled shoes. His legs felt weak from the orgasms and the frantic pumping; John felt ashamed of how he'd actually been cooperating, moving to make the wonderfully sensuous feelings even more pronounced. He'd actually helped the thing screw him! John's mind rebelled at what had happened. It was impossible! He'd been changed, just like the other guys in the office! He wanted to scream, to cry out, to do something. And then he realized what he had to do. Walking slowly, awkwardly, he left the office, remembering at the last second to lock the door. His course was plain - the mall. John marched through the mall, painfully unaware of how awkward his gait looked or of how many teenage boys were stopping to admire his curves. He was on a mission, and he remained focused. And then he bumped into Marcie! For a second, she looked surprised, and then delighted. "Joan, what a pleasant surprise!" she said sweetly as she hugged him. "I expected you to be working late. Again." John's head spun. Joan? And she recognized him? "Uh, I have to get out once in a while," he said in a feeble excuse. His voice, a rich contralto, echoed impossibly in his ears. Marcie laughed. "Yeah, I guess you do." She fell in beside John as he continued his stride. "The way you're walking, I'd guess you're not just shopping," she observed. John sighed. "No, there's a little store I need to go to." Fortunately for John, the pair came around the corner and he spied the little store. "You want to wait here?" he asked hopefully. Marcie glanced at the little store. "Kind of weird, isn't it?" she observed. "Yeah, I'll just wait out here." The bell above John's head tinkled as he walked into the store. It seemed odd, just like it had the first time. Only now, John knew precisely what he wanted. He glanced around, barely noticing a young lady walking out of the store. "Hey," John called, wincing at the sound in his ears. "Old man!" he called again. "How can I help you today, Joan?" The voice sounded from behind John, startling him. John spun, and then he batted at the locks of hair which swirled around his face. It was all so...alien! "You know how you can help me," John said firmly. "You can undo this!" He gestured toward his bosom with his hands. "What's wrong with that?" the old man asked innocently. "Don't you like the changes?" John felt his anger rising. "No, I don't!" he snapped. "You sold me the cleaner to fix my problem with, uh, what was his name?" "Greg." "Greg? Are you sure?" John shook his head. It seemed so faint a memory, almost like a dream - except for the part about the cleaner. "But it ruined my entire office!" The old man smiled. "Ah, yes. But did you follow the directions precisely?" John glared at the old man, and then he glanced down. "Things...didn't go quite right." The old man smiled. "No, they apparently didn't. So what do you think happened?" John sighed. "The janitor got the bottle, and he sprayed it on the fixtures every day." The old man grinned. "Precisely. You didn't discontinue use after Greg's problem was solved." "But why did it change...the rest of us?" "Simple. The magic made the toilet fixtures sensitive to sperm. It didn't make it able to distinguish one man's sperm from another! So when any person ejected sperm - in any way - into the fixture, it reacted. And as the label said, the reactions get stronger and longer lasting each time." The old man chuckled. "It even got the janitor, too!" John's eyes widened. "So if I...or any other guy...had sex, and then peed...?" He knew then what had happened. Hours after sex, a man's urine still contained some sperm. Enough, apparently, to make the magic react! And since the reactions got stronger each time, each new man was changed more quickly, because the magic didn't know it was a different guy!" The shop owner nodded and smiled. "Exactly!" he said. "You didn't follow the directions!" "But the girls! They seemed to be changing more, too! How could that be?" The old man just smiled his pleasant smile. "If a woman were to, uh, leak some...uh... fluid - which was the result of having had sex - into the toilet, it would have a similar reaction." "More feminine?" John asked knowingly. "So that's why the ladies have been getting more and more...curvy?" He closed his eyes a second, shaking his head at the implications of what he'd managed to do. Finally, he opened his eyes and gazed at the old man. "So when does it wear off?" John asked hopefully. Inside, he had a sinking feeling that he wasn't going to like the answer. "It doesn't," the old man said with an air of finality. And even as the old man said the words, something in John's mind shifted ever so slightly. Joan remembered the magic spray and the changes. But somehow, Joan didn't see why it was such a bad thing. It all seemed so...right! Like it was a natural part of human growth - turning into a woman one day wasn't so odd! And the guys - Greg and Norm and Sam and Michael and Allen and the others - they faded to mere dreams, wispy memories of what had once been. "Well," Joan began, "I guess we'll get by, then." She smiled faintly. "Sorry to trouble you." She turned and walked slowly out of the little store. The same girl who'd left came back in as Joan exited. Joan smiled pleasantly, and then walked back to Marcie. She sat down on the bench beside Marcie, who was busy reading a brochure. "What's that?" Joan asked when her curiosity got the better of her. Marcie glanced up. "Some girl gave me this brochure. It's for a water park. It's a members only thing, and for women only." She looked up at Joan. "You know, the girl said they have business group discounts, and I think it'd make a great perk. And with the 'Best New Business award from the Women's Business League, we're going to be swimming in new business. This might help employee retention and productivity." Joan glanced at the brochure. "Hmmm," she muttered. "You know, Marcie, you may be onto something." She gave her a warm smile. "I guess that's why I keep you around. I don't know how I'd run the business without you." ********** Back in the store, Danni stared out the window at Marcie and Joan sitting on the bench. "You think they'll...?" The old man looked disapprovingly at Danni. "Oh, come on," he clucked. "Use your powers, for pete's sake!" Danni glared at her mentor, then concentrated for a second. "Yeah, they'll be lovers within a week," she reported. The old man looked at Danni with an almost approving nod. "Now, more importantly, are they going to go for the park memberships?" Danni shrugged noncommittally. "I think I sold the secretary on the idea, so she'll convince her boss. Yeah, I think they'll go for the group membership." The old man grinned, and then he began to stroke his chin thoughtfully. "I wonder if the old woman will let me take my finder's fees in some kind of trade deal..." FIN