My Conversation with the Devil

My Conversation with the Devil


Melanie Brown

Copyright  © 2009

I sat at the desk in my apartment bedroom staring blankly at the computer display. It was beautiful Saturday afternoon, and I was stuck remoting in to my computer at work trying to catch up on a project, the deadline of which was rapidly approaching. And, even though I wasn't going to be outside enjoying the June afternoon, at least I could both work and indulge in another interest of mine.

The database application I was working on was eating my lunch, so I got up to stretch my legs for a few minutes. I stepped into the bathroom to check myself out again. Except for the pantyhose and three inch pumps, the tank top and denim miniskirt seemed a normal enough outfit for a twenty-something girl. My make-up I thought, looked pretty good. I felt my chin however and could already feel a stubble.

I sighed. Well, it wasn't like I was going to go anywhere today dressed like a girl anyway. I might pass, but I just didn't have the nerve to try. Maybe next Halloween...

I sat back down at my desk and began coding again. If I could complete the application by Monday, there'd be a nice little bonus for me. I got a lot of these little bonuses. I had no social life.

“Why the hell aren't you using stored procedures? Haven't you ever heard of buffer over-run exploits?” I almost jumped out of my skin at the sudden voice from behind me. Terrified that someone was in my locked apartment and mortified that they saw me dressed as a girl, I spun around to see who was talking to me. My jaw dropped as I saw Bill Gates dressed in a plaid button down shirt, faded jeans and sneakers sitting on the end of my bed.

“''re Bill Gates? What I did you get in here?!” I exclaimed as my panic continued to climb.

Bill Gates just smiled at me for a moment and then said, “I just popped in. And no, I'm not Bill Gates. I just took this form to make this visit more comfortable.”

I tried to back away, but was blocked by my desk. With increasingly short breath, I asked, “Not Bill Gates? Then who are you? Why are you here? I don't have any money.”

The person who looked like Bill Gates laughed. “I don't want your money...” his smile broadened, “...little lady. I have no use for such worldly things. I'm here to make a deal. A simple trade. Something you want for something I want.” He sat there grinning at me.

Forgetting for the moment that he had popped into my room out of thin air, I said, “Dude! Are you trying to tell me you're the devil? Give me a break! And showing up as Bill Gates? That's so lame! You'd better leave before I call the cops!” As if I'd call the cops while I was wearing mascara and high heels.

His smile faded quickly and he said, “Oh. Don't believe me?”

I shook my head. Long strands of brown hair from the wig I was wearing cascaded over my shoulders. “No,” I said simply. I wasn't born yesterday, after all.

He grinned again as his image suddenly shimmered, blurred, and almost doubled in size and Bill Gates was suddenly replaced by a huge, horrible looking creature, a mix of blood red and black skin covered in scales, massive horns curving upwards from a large head with a mouth full of sharp, rotting teeth. His feet ended in shiny black cloven hooves. The room was suddenly filled with the stench of death and I guess brimstone, if I had any idea what brimstone smelled like.

His breath of stale, rotting meat hit me like a fist as he said simply, voice grating, “Convinced?”

Horrified, I shrank back into my chair as much as possible. I tried to turn away, but was compelled to look at him in much the way you feel compelled to look at a terrible accident. “I...I...I'm convinced! I'm convinced! Can you please change back?”

He leaned in close to my face and sneered, “Do I frighten you...little girl?” He laughed. The odor surrounding him made me want to throw up.

“You're going to set off the smoke detectors, dude! Can you bring a little less Hell into my apartment?”

He gave me the oddest look and then shrugged. An instant later, the smoke and stench was gone and Bill Gates sat once again at the end of my bed.

“Were you not afraid that I was going to rip you to shreds?” he demanded.

The thought had crossed my mind, but I said, “You can't have my soul by eating me. I have to give it to you through free will.” Thank God for horror movies.

He smirked and said, “Yeah, maybe. But let's get down to business, shall we?” He was suddenly holding a rather overly long form that appeared to be a contract in one hand and a pen in another. I tried not to laugh as it looked so cliché.

“I know what you want. But what can you possibly tempt me with? I mean, as much as I'd love to have a crotch rocket, I'm not going to sell my soul for a motorcycle!”

He smiled broadly and said, “No! Of course not! I wouldn't waste my time. Someone with such small ambitions will wind up mine anyway. No, what you want, only I can give you. How many nights did you as a small boy, cry yourself to sleep, praying desperately to wake up a girl? Did He hear you? Did He answer the heart-felt plea of a young boy, agonizing over being in the wrong body? Well, did He? No. And He never will.

“But take me. I hear your cry. I feel your pain. I can answer your prayer. I can give you not only the body you need, but the one you deserve. A body that will inspire lust in men and envy in women. I, your humble servant, can ease the pain in your heart.”

He suddenly stood up and with a dramatic wave of his arms, he shouted, “Behold!”

I felt a sudden nauseousness and was knocked from my chair to the floor and everything went dark for a few moments. I opened my eyes and blinked in the light a few times. I looked up and saw Bill Gates still sitting on my bed, smiling down at me.

“Go,” he said. “Go to a mirror and see if I have not answered your every prayer!”

I stood up, feeling very strange and disoriented. An odd shift in weight disturbed my balance as I tried to stand. Something just didn't feel right as I stumbled toward the bathroom to look at myself in the mirror. I looked down and could see two large, firm breasts that seemed to be attached to my chest. I could feel them sway and touch each other. A strand of long blonde hair fell into my view and I was suddenly aware of hair flowing over my shoulders. My heart started pounding as my breathing picked up the pace. I said to myself in a breathy whisper, over and over, “This can't be true! Oh my God. This can't be true!”

Gulping for breath, I gaped at the totally gorgeous blonde bombshell staring back at me in the mirror. I saw the girl in the mirror reach up with a small, slender hand and touch her breast and I felt the touch. I slid my finger around the areola and I could feel my nipple respond, growing hard. I moved my hand toward my crotch, fingers extended...

“How do you like the new you?” prompted a voice from behind.

Startled, I spun around. Still breathless, I said, “How did you do this? Is it permanent?” I backed up a step as I saw that the devil had once again changed his appearance. I've never really had any interest in men other than to enhance some fantasies. But as I found myself looking at the most fantastically gorgeous man I've ever seen I felt myself starting to hunger with desire for his touch. His naked, glistening, muscled body was framed by the doorway. His tousled, slightly longish dark brown hair shone with highlights from the bathroom light.

He smiled at me and it was all I could do to keep from running to his arms. “I'm the devil, sweetie. I can do whatever I want. And to answer your other question, yes it can be made permanent. Under the terms of the contract of course. Come out of the bathroom, sexy. Let's have a look at you.”

I followed him out of the bathroom. My God, I don't think I've ever seen such a sexy back before. He didn't have over-sized muscles like a body builder, but firm, tight muscles. I'm sure he was doing something to make me attracted to him. But at the moment I didn't care. The lust swelling inside me was intoxicating. He turned to indicate where he wanted me to stand. My eyes immediately became fixated on his well endowed manhood.

“You mentioned terms,” I said, not taking my eyes off the visual feast before me.

He smiled, flashing perfect, white teeth. “Yes, my dear. The terms. Quite reasonable if you ask me and very simple. You will remain just as you are now for the next twenty years, every man you meet lusting after you and adoring you. Everything you ever dreamed about.”

I frowned and said, “I never really dreamed about being lusted over by men.”

“Of course you have, gorgeous.” He took a couple of steps towards me raising his arms to me, his manhood rising to the task. “Explore your feelings babe. Let yourself go and expand your awareness of your own body.”

He was right. I was experiencing sensations and emotions I had never had before. My breasts began to swell and ache. I could feel my vagina...holy shit....yes my vagina! began to moisten.

Taking a deep breath, I asked, “What happens after twenty years? I die in some horrible accident and you take my soul?”

He shrugs and said, “Maybe, or maybe you will just grow old finally and knit sweaters for orphans or something. Life has no guarantees, baby. But twenty years of looking like this, having your pick of men is guaranteed.”

“Or my money back?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Um, no. All sales are final.”

He smiled again and touched my breast. “All we have to do to consummate the deal is for me to break your cherry.” He looked me up and down and said, “And I can tell you're ready for serious fucking.”

He took a step towards me, but I backed away. “Wait! Don't I have to sign a contract?”

Smirking he said, “Naw. That's too cliché. Besides, I think this'll be more fun!” He tried to step towards me again.

I held out my arm to stop his advance. My breath was getting heavy and every inch of my body was screaming to let him slide inside me. Gulping, I panted, “What...what if I become pregnant? I don't want to have the devil's baby!”

Starting to look pissed at the interruptions he said, “No guarantees honey. Besides, no one gets pregnant their first time.” He started to grab my shoulders. Oh God! I wanted it so bad!

I held up my hand and said, “What about work? My family and friends? How do I explain this?”

Looking very frustrated he shouted, “It's all taken care of! Look! Your closet is full of beautiful and sexy outfits! Your drivers' license and college transcript all have the new you. It's all part of the deal.”

He grabbed my shoulders tightly.

A sudden thought shot through my brain and I shook myself from his grasp and turned my back to him. He grabbed my shoulder again and spun me around. He screamed, “I'm tired of the games, bitch! Now seal the deal!” He thrust his cock towards me.

I backed up and said, “Wait. Free will, remember? I just had a thought.”

He folded his arms, his eyes glowing a faint red. “What?”

I pulled my hair from my face and said, “Let's look at this logically. If you're here, that proves there's a Hell, or something we can call Hell. Which then proves that there's someplace, if not exactly Heaven, is someplace that's definitely not Hell.”

“Are you going to let me fuck you or not?”

Feeling the spell of lust starting to fade, I added, “And, by you're being here, trying to get me to sell you my soul must then mean that not only haven't I done anything bad enough yet to put me in Hell, I'm not likely to in the future! Because if I was going to, that'd be a freebie for you and you wouldn't be here now!”

Shaking his head and suddenly looking very tired, he muttered, “God, I hate programmers.” He sat down on my bed and with a faraway look to his eyes he said, “Bill Gates? I didn't get him. Not only did I not get Bill Gates, he now owns five percent of Hell.” Shaking his head, he faded away.

I suddenly collapsed into my chair, shaking like a leaf. I couldn't believe how close I'd come to selling my soul into eternal damnation for a measly twenty years of living as a woman. Still, throwing away the chance to not only live as a woman, but to totally be one! I sat there for a few moments idly playing with a strand of blonde hair.

Blonde hair?

I looked down and saw boobs. I quickly slid my hand up my thigh and found...

What the hell...?

The devil forgot to change me back before he left. I was still a gorgeous woman! I laughed out loud, a musical, beautiful female laugh. I was in heaven...

* * *

I sat in the doctor's office waiting room. My boyfriend, not sure of what he should be doing, idly rubbed the swelling bump on my belly. I smiled sweetly to him, then turned my head and under my breath muttered, “You lying sack of shit devil! Can't get pregnant the first time my ass!”

* * *

The End

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