Betting on Motherhood

— Okay, if I win, we’re having a baby this year! — Brian declared confidently, waving a strange device that looked like a hybrid between a roulette wheel and a baby rattle. He had just bought this thing at the souvenir shop of the "haunted mansion" while waiting for the tour to start.

Stacey scoffed and playfully tilted her head, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

— Ah! Then I definitely need to win! — she smirked, raising her eyebrows.

She was sitting on an antique red sofa, clearly teasing him. But she added, realizing Brian wasn’t joking and not wanting to spoil the mood:

— Well, actually, no way — Stacey giggled. — I don’t wanna be a mom at this age. Let’s wait a bit longer.

She pursed her lips, clearly amused by his reaction, but didn’t argue. She simply tilted her head flirtatiously, still swinging her crossed leg. Everything about her screamed: "Yeah, yeah, we’ll see."

— Oh, come on, Stacey… It’s just a stupid game… — Brian muttered and, without thinking twice, pressed the button.

CLICK.

The very next second, the air around them flared crimson, like someone had just triggered an emergency alarm. A wave of heat surged through him from the inside, racing down his spine and spreading through his entire body. His fingers clenched around the device, but he couldn’t let go. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

— Wait… W-what… WHAT’S HAPPENING TO ME?! — he screamed, but even his voice wavered, shifting, losing its familiar depth.

He jerked his hands up to his chest as he felt his T-shirt tighten. No, not just tighten—reshape, as if someone was altering it in real time, turning it into something snugger. The fabric softened, rustled, folding into layers… A dress. Green, with ruffles.

— Ha! Serves you right! — Liz burst into laughter, leaning forward, her eyes sparkling with wicked delight. — Since you want a baby so bad, maybe you should carry it yourself!

— WHAT?! — Will stared at her in shock, then back at himself. He was still him… or was he?

Breasts. He had no frame of reference, but the sensation was terrifyingly real. The weight, the warmth, the tingling in his nipples, the fabric pressing too tightly, making him want to rip it off because it was too much—too soft, too restrictive. He tried to steady his breathing, but that only made him more aware of how every inch of his body was shifting. His waist had grown slimmer, his hips wider, and his legs… God, his legs were smooth. He could feel it.

— Wow, Brian! Or maybe… Bree now? You’re such a cutie! — Stacey drawled, her smirk dripping with mockery.

He swallowed hard. Inside, everything burned, and his skin felt flushed, as if his body was still transforming, even though the changes had slowed. This had to be another one of Stacey’s magic pranks—she loved messing with spells—but this? Turning into a woman?! That kind of magic wasn’t real, was it?

— Oh… fuck… — he exhaled, his voice no longer his own. Higher. Feminine. Unfamiliar. — Great… Now change me back.

Stacey, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes, finally spoke.

— Oh, no! You look like my mom’s younger sister now! — she gasped between giggles. — And besides, that’s not—

POP!

Stacey’s dress, her underwear, and jewelry hovered in the air for a split second before collapsing onto the red sofa in a crumpled heap.

Brian froze. His heart—his female heart, Jesus Christ!—pounded wildly. His new, soft body still tingled from residual heat, but now something even crazier had happened.

— Stacey?! — his voice—high and unfamiliar—rang through the room.

No response. No movement. Just her clothes, lying in a neat pile on the couch.

Suddenly, he felt his stomach start to pulse strangely, like something alive, unknown, and insistent was stirring inside. He froze, unable to move, his new, unfamiliar body locked in anticipation. His hands instinctively reached for his belly, and he felt them settle on a rounded, warm surface that was growing right under his palms — slowly but relentlessly, like some unknown force was unfolding within him.

— What is this… OH GOD…! — he gasped. He frantically ran his hands over his stomach, brushing against his new breasts in the process, trying uselessly to stop it, but only feeling the skin stretch, the muscles tense.

His breath hitched, and he dug his fingers into the swelling curve, hoping to stop whatever was happening. But no. There was something inside. Something moving. Something alive. It kicked.

Panic clenched his throat. This couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be happening.

— Stacy?! — he broke into a scream, but the room answered with silence.

Where was she? Why’d she vanish? Why did he have a pregnant belly?! He swallowed and grabbed her dress, lying lonely beside him, but saw… nothing. No body, no trace of her. Just delicate lace underwear and the necklace with the pendant she never took off.

“I need to calm down,” flashed through his mind as he squeezed his eyes shut.

At that moment, his stomach jerked. A soft but unmistakable movement inside.

Brian sucked in a sharp breath. A cold dread slithered through his insides. He went completely still, fingers pressing into the fabric of the dress. No. That was just his imagination. It had to be…

And then—another kick. Sharp. Clear. Like a signal.

First one.

Then another.

As if…

— W-what… Stacy? Is that you?! — he breathed, his eyes widening. — Kick twice if it’s “yes.”

Silence. Only his own ragged, uneven breathing broke the stillness of the room. But then, as if in response to his words, a clear, deliberate kick came from inside his belly. One. Then a second.

— Oh God… — he whispered, realizing the wish might’ve just come true.