Upgraded

By John Dylena

Cody's situation just went from bad to worse. The deadline to pay back the money he owed the mob was quickly approaching, and with a ways to go, he tried to close the gap by gambling and at the end of the night, he walked away with less then he started with.

With no money left, his only option was to hide. Instead of meeting with the mob, he chose to put on a dress, high heels and makeup, hoping that he could pull off hiding in plain sight.

But the mob's eyes are everywhere, and Cody's night out en femme is about to be cut short.

For adults only! Contains the following themes: gender change, crossdressing, futanari, lesbian sex, oral sex
9,500 words

• Language: English
• Publisher: John Dylena
• Release date: Dec 22, 2013
• ISBN: 9781311506511

John Dylena

John Dylena is a young author with a passion for tales of crossdressing, feminization and gender change. When he's not writing stories full of stockings, high heels and magic, he is an avid gamer and movie lover. His other interests are science fiction and epic fantasy.

Book preview

Upgraded

By: John Dylena

Wyrmwood Publishing and Editing

Copyright © 2013 by John Dylena

Smashwords Edition

a Pink Skirt Press story

Cover Art by: blackshirtboy

http://blackshirtboy.com/

https://twitter.com/blackshirtboy

All rights reserved.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Disclaimer:

This story contains adult material and was not suitable for readers under the age of 18. It also contains strong language and sexual situations. Most are of erotic nature and contain graphic and detailed descriptions of sex and/or masturbation.

If you, the reader, are of legal age (18+) and are fine with the previously mentioned themed story, then continue.

Enjoy.

Cody could never forget the smell of a casino; an odd mix of cigarette smoke and alcohol, with a sprinkling of desperation. Folks sat around the machines and risked their hard-earned or borrowed money, hoping—and sometimes praying—that the odds were in their favor.

Gambling was a cruel mistress. She lured you in with the promise of big money and kept you seated until your pockets were empty and your hopes dashed. That big payout would pay off some big debt or cover the cost of repairs; it could finance that dream vacation or that cosmetic surgery you’ve desired for so long. She didn't suck you dry all at once; it was a slow, drawn-out, and sadistic process that left the player feeling empty and hollow.

You knew you were in Vegas when you stepped through the casino doors and walking toward you was an Elvis impersonator. It was the seventy-fifth anniversary of his death, and yet people still worshiped and bowed to the immortal King of Rock.

Cody shot the man a glance as he started up the set of stairs that the impersonator descended. His outfit was spot-on: tight white bellbottoms and a white, long-sleeved shirt that barely contained his beer belly, both encrusted with silver rhinestones. His hair was jet-black, styled with an entire can of hairspray. Even though it was well into the evening, the impersonator still wore those iconic gold, tinted Nautic sunglasses, behind which tired eyes sat. The neon lights illuminated his worn-out, weary face, the aftermath of long hours spent singing and dancing. Cody reached the top of the stairs and watched the impersonator vanish in the river of people that flowed down the sidewalk.

The automatic doors slid open as he approached and he stopped just before crossing the threshold. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Tonight is the night. Everything is going to change.

He kept his hands in his pockets as he maneuvered through the sea of slot machines and gambling tables. It was a Friday night and the casino was packed. He slid past an overweight man wearing a t-shirt that depicted the American flag with the word MURICA on it. There was a bachelorette party, giggling and already visibly drunk, and a group of foreign businessmen ready to let