Monday, September 22, 2014

The Mens Room is Occupied? Really Need to Drain the Lizard!

He really should have held his bladder as best as possible!

I know that its usually the women that have to wait in line. There's a great short story by Jennifer Miller on Fictionmania (their links don't quite work so I am going to post the entire thing below) that uses that as a great change for the protagonist. If you wonder what kinds of TG stories I like, this would be one of them as its short, to the point, and wonderfully squirmy to read.

Quick note, I am still quite under the weather, and plan on seeing a doctor tomorrow if I can. Haven't gotten any better, and had a fever today while at work. Hoping I can get some sort of handle on if this is just a nasty cold or if I've got yet another sinus infection. Forgive me if this caption has been posted before, but at least you get a story you either haven't seen in awhile, or brand new to you TG fiction!

"They Always Go In Pairs"

"Hey guys!" Stephanie shouted over the sounds of the boisterous crowd.
"Linda and I will be right back . . . we've got to use the Ladies Room."

"Oh come on Stephanie . . . not now!" Mark pleaded with a slight tone of
frustration in his voice.  "It'll take forever!  The concert's about to start any
minute now."

"Well what do you want me to do?" Stephanie asked angrily. "Hold it for
three hours?"

"No . . . it's just that you women always take forever, and I've been looking
forward to this concert all summer.  I don't want to miss the beginning!"

"Fine," Stephanie answered abruptly.  "You guys just go ahead without us.
We'll meet you at the seats when we're finished."

Annoyed with her date, Stephanie grabbed Linda's arm and pulled her off
towards the nearest restroom.  They were hoping to make it quick, but
unfortunately an all too familiar sight awaited them when they arrived . . . a
line of at least thirty women standing outside of the door.

"Great," Linda said.  "Looks like its gonna be a while."

"Uh," Stephanie moaned in displeasure . . . obviously annoyed at a far too
frequent occurrence in her life. "Why don't they ever have enough toilets for
us!?  I'm so sick of this stuff."

"It certainly isn't because we don't complain enough!" Linda chuckled.

Stephanie had no choice but to laugh along and brace herself for the long

Meanwhile, out in the stadium, Mark and Jeff were hiking up the bleachers
and had almost made it to their seats.

"Don't you think you were a little hard on the girls back there?" Jeff asked as
he tried to catch his breath.  "It's not like they're being slow on purpose you

"So what . . . " Mark said while taking a sip of beer.  "Women are all the
same.  They just take their time . . . you know, gabbing with each other and
stuff.  Why do you think they always go in pairs!? It's some stupid social

"Yeah, yeah . . . " Jeff laughed.  "But I still think you should give them a
break.  You and Stephanie have only been dating a few weeks . . . all your
gonna do is piss her off at you."

Mark rolled his eyes at his best friend. He was just about to respond when
the stadium lights shut off. "Come on . . . hurry up . . . the concert's just
about to start!"

About fifteen minutes later, with the lights flashing and the music blaring,
Stephanie and Linda awkwardly excused themselves past half of the people
sitting in their row . . . finally making it to their seats.

Jeff gave Linda a smile, patted her on the thigh, and scooted over to give her
his seat.

Mark, made a poor attempt at humor . . . "Jeez," he said.  "Any longer and
you girls might as well have waited until intermission!"

"Very funny," Linda said, barely cracking a smile.  "It's not like we didn't
hurry.  It just takes women longer . . . we can't just "whip it out" like you
guys can you know!"

"Hey . . . it's not my fault," Mark said while trying to sound funny. "It's one
of the advantages of being a man!"

Stephanie was hardly amused.  "Very funny. . . just once I'd like to see the
shoe on the other foot!  Sometimes you can be a real jerk."

Sensing her anger, Mark tried to lighten things up with a little more forgiving
tone.  "I'm sorry Stephanie, I was only kidding around. Come on . . . let's
not ruin the whole night over something silly like this . . . OK?"

"Whatever," Stephanie said as she crossed her arms.  "Just leave me alone
for a bit.  You've really ticked me off."


 Mark couldn't wait any longer as he sat with his legs clenched tightly
together.  Embarrassed by the real reason that he needed to get up, he told his
friends the first thing that came to mind . . . "I'm dying of thirst," he
proclaimed as he stood up.  "Anyone want something to drink while I'm at
the concession stand?"

"I thought you didn't want to miss a minute of the concert," Stephanie said
sarcastically.  "Can't you wait five minutes until intermission?"

Searching for an answer, Mark came back with . . . "I could, but it'll be
faster this way . . . fewer lines."

Stephanie rolled her eyes at his hypocritical statement as she slid her legs to
the side to let him pass.  He scooted by and then paused for a second to take
some money from Jeff to buy a couple of beers.

As Mark stood there with his back to Stephanie, she was taken aback by the
sight that was only a few inches from her face.  She discreetly elbowed Linda
and whispered in her ear . . . "Looks like Mark's either put on a few extra
pounds or he's washed his jeans in hot water!"

Both girls giggled silently to themselves at the sight of Mark's butt wedged
tightly into a pair of skintight blue jeans.

A few moments later, Mark was making his way down the bleachers.
"Whoa!" Mark thought in relief . . . catching his balance as he almost tripped
over his pant leg.  "That was close."

It was bothersome to him that only a single beer had not only caused him to
have to "pee like a race horse" . . . but now, had also apparently gotten him a
bit drunk.

Down on flat ground, Mark hurried back to the concourse and found himself
almost sprinting into the nearest Men's Room.  Once inside, he bellied up to
the first open urinal that he could find . . . unzipped his pants . . . and went
to pull out his penis as he had done some up-teen-million times before.  Only
this time . . .

"What the . . .?!" Mark exclaimed.

The man next to him turned his head instinctively to see what the problem
was . . . Mark was groping at his pants with a strange look on his face.
Offended by his odd behavior, the man quickly turned his head  . . . finished
his business, and walked away giving Mark the strangest of looks.  But Mark
didn't notice a thing . . . he was most definitely preoccupied at the moment!

"What the fuck?!" Mark gasped silently.  He looked down at his hand
grasping the elastic band of what appeared to be a pair of sheer black,
women's panty hose.  "This is impossible!  This can't be . . . "

Without hesitation, Mark's hand made a beeline towards the unfamiliar sight .
. . his mind not even registering the sensation of his nails catching on the
delicate fabric as his hand slid between the pantyhose and his hairless,
flattened stomach.  He began to hyperventilate as he groped around the
interior of his pants . . . praying that his hand would come across a familiar
sensation.  But instead of clutching a handful of cotton boxer shorts, he only
found naked, smooth skin.

Stunned, he quickly moved his hand to the left where a growing pressure
was mounting as his widening hips threatened to rip his pants right off his
body.  With difficulty, he wedged his hand into the ever-tightening space . . .
his fingers finally resting on top of a protruding hip bone and a thin strap of
fabric arching high above it. Immediately, Mark slid his index finger
underneath the lacy elastic band and began to trace it down towards the front
of his pubic area. Once there, his hand came to a sudden halt as a small "V",
of what felt like silk, disappeared oddly between his legs.  He awkwardly
tugged at the skintight fabric, wondering why there was no discomfort to his
male genitalia.  Then, like a proverbial "slap in the face" . . . reality set in.
Not only was he wearing panties, but they seemed to fit his body as well!!

Without another thought, Mark inserted his slender fingers between the
panties and his belly, spread his legs slightly apart and plunged his hand
between his legs in a desperate attempt to find something familiar.  But it was
not to be as his fingers moved over a neatly shaved patch of pubic hair and
then slid into a warm, deep slit between his thighs!

Mark's knees grew week as he steadied himself against the wall with his free
arm.  Looking forward towards the cold tile wall, his eyes widened at the
sight of inch long fingernails projecting from his otherwise male hand.  Then,
with a sudden twinge of pain, Mark arched his back forward and let out a
slight groan. His stomach began to churn . . . then strange crunching sounds
started to emanate from his lower back and pelvis as they both began to
contort into a new geometry.  Mark looked down as the waistband of his
jeans began to loosen . . . then as if someone was blowing up a balloon, he
felt the seat of his pants become tighter and tighter.

"Hey buddy!" a voice called out from behind . . . momentarily snapping him
out of his trance like state.  "We ain't got all day here! There's a concert
going on . . . ya know!?"

"I'll be done in a sec . . ." Mark stuttered as his voice began to slip into a
higher octave.

Again, the people standing at the adjacent urinals began to give him strange

"I've got to get the fuck out of here!" Mark screamed silently to himself.
"I've been drunk before . . . but this is ridiculous!"

Mark quickly pulled his hand out from the pantyhose . . . the snapping of the
elastic making a large "POP."  He then hastily grabbed his shirt and began to
tuck it back into his pants.  As he did, the fabric seemed to pull strangely over
his chest. He glanced down to see that the buttons were missing on his
oxford shirt . . . that the once thick cotton fabric had become thin and flimsy .
. . almost like . . .

"Oh God!" he muttered under his breath as he watched a pair of seemingly
huge nipples began to push their way forward through the sheer, almost
spandex type fabric that he now wore.

"Nice ass buddy!" a man called out from behind. Sounds of laughter filled
the room. "What are you . . . some kind of pretty boy or something?!"

But Mark wasn't listening . . . he was preoccupied by the ever- increasing
pressure building in his chest.  His nipples began to burn with a heat and
tingling sensation that quickly spread out across his tightening ribcage.
Then, without warning, Mark's jaw dropped to the floor.  Like some cheap
special effect from a low budget horror flick, his once masculine chest
morphed in a matter of seconds into that of some teenaged chic that had just
gotten a boob job!

"Come on asshole!" they guy from behind shouted.

Mark's mind raced.  "I've got to get out of here . . . and fast!"

He quickly moved to zip up his pants . . . only to find the once simple task,
an unexpected challenge.  Not only were his jeans exceedingly tight, but
manipulating a zipper with inch long fingernails was most definitely a chore.
Once finished, he quickly swung around with his head down and tried to
make a break for the door.  Instantaneously, the room filled with catcalls.
The men hooting and hollering in approval at the sight of what appeared to be
a well endowed, young woman walking away from a urinal in the men's

"Was it good for you babe?" a man shouted in mock humor.

All Mark could do was run . . . clutching his bra-less boobs as he pushed his
way through the hoards of shouting men.

Once outside of the room, he lowered his head and ran . . . trying desperately
to hide his face as he darted in-between the people moving about the
concourse.  With each and every step, his gym shoes squeaked on the dirty
concrete floor until oddly, the pitch changed to the clicking sound of a pair of
high-heeled shoes.  He felt his strides starting to become constricted, as his
already tight jeans seemed to shrink even more around his thighs.  As he
looked down, he was stunned to see a short leather miniskirt barely covering
a pair of black nylon covered legs.  Within a couple of strides, the new
female garments caused Mark to lose his balance and tumble awkwardly to
the floor.  He quickly got up, tying not to make a scene.  Winded and
confused . . . what appeared to be a sexy young girl, brushed her long hair
out of her face and propped herself up against a nearby wall.

"Are you OK miss?" a concerned man said.

Mark looked at the man oddly . . . confused at the sound of being addressed
as a woman for the first time.  "I've got to get a grip on myself . . . this can't
be happening . . . I've got to be hallucinating or something!" he thought.  But
the long golden locks that fell in front of his face told a different story.

Like a scared animal, a look of panic came across Mark's face. "I've got to
get out of here!" he grunted.  But before he was able to gain his composure
and look for an exit, an old but familiar sensation returned. Instinctively, his
legs clenched together.

"I've got to find a bathroom before I wet my pants!" Mark thought.

His eyes quickly looked around and found a nearby sign that read "Women",
pointing to the left.  Without hesitation, he quickly took off in that direction.
As he turned the corner and looked ahead, he did a doubletake at the sight of
at least 100 women lined up out of the restroom doors.

"Oh my God!  It's intermission." he said softly in a foreign, high pitched

Mark quickly scurried to the end and began to move about nervously . . .
unsure of how long he would be able to hold it.  After a few seconds, it was
clear that he wasn't going to make it.  He ran to the front of the line and
tapped a woman on the shoulder while at the same time asking . . .

"Excuse me miss, could I PLEASE jump in front of you?  I don't think I can
hold it much longer."

As the woman and her friend turned around, Mark's face nearly turned white
with shock at the sight of both Stephanie and Linda!

"Sure," Stephanie said, after momentarily glancing down at the young girls
huge, jiggling boobs.

Mark followed Stephanie's eyes downward and felt a sudden wave of
embarrassment.  He noticed that his skin-tight shirt was nearly transparent . .
. giving his girlfriend (and everyone else for that matter) a "show".

"We've all been there," Linda added with a sympathetic smile.

"I really appreciate it," Mark said sheepishly as he slid into the line in front of
the two women.

Scared to death that they somehow might recognize him, Mark stood frozen
with his back towards the two women . . . his arms folded awkwardly trying
to hide his huge breasts.  But his fears were unwarranted . . . NOBODY was
going to mistake him for Mark Thompson ever again.  He looked just like
any other woman waiting impatiently to use the Women's Room.

Suddenly, Mark felt a tap on his shoulder.  He slowly turned to face the two

"I hope you appreciate this," Stephanie said with a definite chuckle. "My
boyfriend Mark would never understand!"

Both Linda and Stephanie began to laugh uncontrollably.

Suddenly, Mark felt a small tinkle . . . he could hold it no more. Mark turned
back around and started to cry in shame as he felt a wet-spot beginning to
spread between his tightly clenched legs.

1 comment:

  1. Fun cap, at least Ken got to finish his business before he changed, unlike Mark in Jennifer Miller's story.
    I can't recall reading your caption before, but I did read the story way back.