by Shéa MacLeod
Cupcake Goddess: Be Careful What You Wish For
A Novelette
By Shéa MacLeod
Cupcake Goddess: Be Careful What You Wish For
COPYRIGHT © 2012 by Shéa MacLeod
Published 2012 by Sunwalker Press, Portland, Oregon
The right of Shéa MacLeod to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without prior written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. All characters in this book are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons either living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Cover Art: Tamra Westberry
Edited by: Tamra Westberry and M. Edward McNally
Please visit Shéa MacLeod at https://www.sheamacleod.com/
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Also By Shéa MacLeod
Cupcake Goddess: Be Careful What You Wish For
Author’s Note:
A Note From Shéa MacLeod
About Shéa MacLeod
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Cupcake Goddess: Be Careful What You Wish For
Branwen had, quite frankly, had enough. She stared at the frosted cupcake in her hand and considered throwing it against the wall. She decided instead that such behaviour was not only un-goddess-like, but would result in the waste of a perfectly good cupcake. Therefore, she ate it.
“Mmmmm ... peanut butter. These humans really are quite clever.” She took another big bite of cupcake and moaned in ecstasy. Peanut butter cupcakes aside, humans were also incredibly annoying.
It hadn’t been her idea to live in this Podunk town in the middle of Nowhereville, America. All the good cities had already been taken by other deities so she was stuck in Granite Falls, Washington. Who even knew where that was? And why couldn’t she have wound up with Seattle, Portland or San Antonio? Heck, even Louisville would have been better than Granite-freaking-Falls.
It hadn’t been her idea to work a dead-end job and live in this crummy apartment and gain twenty pounds — okay, fifty — because of her cupcake addiction, either. Branwen was depressed, dammit. You would be, too, if the local sandwich shop was your best opportunity for career advancement and the most exciting thing to hit town was a minor case of the chickenpox.
Oh, no. It had all been the fault of those clever humans. Humans who decided they didn’t need the gods anymore. Without worship from their humans, the world’s deities had lost most of their power. Enough that the gods and goddesses had been relegated to living like mortals and scrounging for what crumbs of worship they could glean from modern humanity.
People still believed in Zeus. In a way. Thor, too, thanks to that idiotic movie. That’s why they got the prime real estate while Branwen got...Granite Falls.
She took another bite of cupcake. Admittedly they had good coffee. And cupcakes. Surprising for such a small town.
What really annoyed Branwen was that these same humans who thought they were so intelligent and superior weren’t doing all that well on their own. Oh, no. If the divorce rate, crime rate, and sheer volume of whining were anything to go by, they could use a bit of divine intervention right about now. Did they ask? Of course not.
Stupid humans.
Quite possibly the most annoying human of all was Branwen’s next door neighbor. The self-same neighbor that had driven her to indulge in this most recent cupcake binge: Bob.
His name wasn’t really Bob. She didn’t know his actual name, so that’s what she called him in her head.
One of the downsides of being a goddess was that one could easily hear through walls. . And the caterwauling coming from Bob’s apartment was enough to turn a goddess gray before her time.
With a huff, Branwen finished the last bite of cupcake. Then she brushed the crumbs off her fuzzy pink bathrobe, gave the robe’s belt a good, hard cinch, and strode for the door. It was time to take action. No more Miss Nice Goddess.
Something had to be done.
She wrenched open her apartment door, stormed across the hall, and banged (with a great deal more force than necessary) on “Bob’s” door. There was only silence until the door creaked open.
“Yes?”
He really was incredibly good looking, despite the fact he was wearing women’s pantyhose and a tragic shade of pink lipstick. His thick, chestnut hair curled just a little around nicely shaped ears and his nose and cheekbones would have done a Greek god proud. In fact, Branwen was half tempted to smite him just for having such ridiculously thick lashes. Honestly, if the man was going to wear women’s clothing he should learn to do it properly.
Branwen gave herself a good mental shake. She wasn’t here to ogle the man or give him tips on cross-dressing. She was here to teach him a lesson.
“So,” she said, casually flicking a cupcake crumb out of her cleavage. “You want to be a woman, do you?”
RYAN ROBERTS FELT LIKE crying. He really did. He knew it wasn’t macho or manly or whatever, but he couldn’t help it.
It had been bad enough having the women in the lin
gerie store in Seattle staring at him like he was some kind of pervert. And now the stockings didn’t fit properly. The size chart must have been wonky. Or maybe his calves were too muscular from working out, but whatever it was, he’d put runs in two pairs of stockings and he was on his last tether.
“Shit, why couldn’t I have been born a woman? They have it so much easier.” He snatched up a bright pink lipstick only to throw it back down on his vanity. The shade was hideous, but he had no idea what to do about it. A sob escaped his lips as he reached for some tissue to wipe off the mess.
The banging on the door interrupted his pity party. Ryan didn’t have a lot of friends. Certainly none that would come knocking at this hour of the night. With a frown he hurried to answer the door, only to find himself confronted by the strangest sight.
The top of the woman’s curly blonde head barely reached his sternum and she was nearly as wide as she was tall. Her pink cheeks matched her pink fuzzy robe, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t makeup. She looked furious. And was that a blob of icing on her cheek?
“So, you want to be a woman do you?”
“Um ... ” Ryan wasn’t quite sure how to answer that. It was just about the last thing he’d expected to come from the stranger’s mouth.
“Listen, Bob ... ” she started.
“Ryan.”
“What?” She blinked big blue eyes in confusion.
“My name isn’t Bob. It’s Ryan.”
She shook her head, sending blond ringlets bouncing around her head. “Whatever. Listen, I am sick of your whining.”
“Excuse me?” Ryan was starting to feel like he’d just fallen down a rabbit hole.
“You think it’s so easy being a woman? You think being a woman is all fancy silk panties and hot pink lipstick? You think your bras would fit better and your stockings wouldn’t run if you were a woman? Well, let me tell you, buddy, it ain’t that easy.” She crossed her arms over her chest, sending a shower of what looked like cake crumbs to the floor.
How did this strange woman know his fondest wish was to experience, just once, being a real woman? Not just dressing in women’s clothing, but actually having all the girl parts and the feelings that went with the panties and heels he so dearly loved. And best of all, he would be able to walk down the street in a pretty dress without everyone staring at him like he was a freak.
“I’m sorry. I don’t understand ... ”
“No, you don’t.” The expression on her angelic face could only be described as wicked. “But you will.” And with a wave of her hand she spun around and shuffled back into her own apartment, slamming the door hard enough to rattle windows.
Ryan ran a shaky hand through his hair. He felt like he’d just been swept up into a whirlwind and spit out the other side. In fact, he was pretty sure he needed a change of panties.
“Lord, this town is full of crazy,” he muttered. Maybe it was time for a change. Another town, maybe. On the other side of the country, preferably.
LIGHT STREAMED IN THROUGH the slats in the blinds, nudging Ryan awake. He groaned and tried to burrow under the quilt, but it was too late. There was no getting back to sleep.
He hauled himself out of bed and staggered to the bathroom. He rolled up his nightie and ... nothing. There was nothing there.
“Oh, my god. “ Ryan groped his crotch. Nope, his usual equipment definitely wasn’t there. “What the f ... ”
Wide awake, he ran for the full length mirror in the bedroom. And there, much to his horrified eyes, was a perfect set of ... lady parts.
“Oh, sweet Jesus.” Ryan clapped a hand over his mouth. His voice had gone up at least two octaves. His cheeks were smooth without a sign of morning beard. His chest, however, was decidedly not smooth. He peered down the neck of his nightie. “D cups!”
He stared in the mirror for what seemed like the longest time. Horror warred with delight.
Ryan Roberts was a girl.
AFTER GETTING OVER the initial shock (and figuring out how to pee sitting down), Ryan decided it was time for a real shopping trip. Bras, panties, the whole nine yards. He had no idea how long this ... whatever it was, was going to last, but he was damn well going to make the most of it.
She. She was damn well going to make the most of it.
Almost giddy with glee, Ryan went and knocked on her neighbor’s door. The door flew open to reveal the short, round blonde woman from the night before, still dressed in her pink fuzzy robe, cupcake in one hand.
“Whaddya want?” the blonde said around a mouth full of cupcake. Pink to match her robe.
“What did you do to me?” Ryan clasped her hands in front of her breasts in a decidedly feminine manner.
The blonde peered at Ryan through narrowed blue eyes. “Who the hell are you?”
“I’m your next door neighbor. You know, from last night? Ryan Roberts. Well,” Ryan waved a hand at her new body. “Rayanne, now, I guess. What did you do?”
The blonde snorted. “I turned you into a woman, obviously.”
“But how?”
“I’m Branwen.”
Rayanne just stared at her blankly. “So?”
Branwen rolled her eyes. “The goddess Branwen. Obviously. I was sick and tired of your whining, so I gave you what you wanted.”
Rayanne welled up. “Oh, thank you. Thank you so much! You don’t know what a blessing this is.”
A look crossed Branwen’s face. A look that gave Rayanne sudden pause. “Oh, this isn’t a blessing,” the goddess said. “Not at all.”
RAYANNE EMAILED IN sick and spent the entire morning shopping. It was beyond wonderful. Nobody stared at her. Nobody laughed at her. Clothes and shoes and pretty lingerie actually fit like it was supposed to.
Even her driver’s license and credit cards magically had her new name and photo. It was a miracle.
She sat happily at one of the tables in Cuppa Joe sipping at an iced soy latte and admiring her newly painted cotton-candy-pink nails. Ah, bliss. Women just had no idea how lucky they were.
“Heya, sweet cheeks.”
Rayanne glanced up, startled as a young man plopped into the seat opposite her. The man stared pointedly down Rayanne’s blouse at her now-ample cleavage.
“Nice rack.”
“Excuse me?” Rayanne felt her cheeks pinken in fury.
“You and me should hang. Bet I could teach you a thing or two.” The young man leaned back in his chair, flexing his muscles under his too-tight t-shirt and licking his lips like she was dessert and he wanted to dive in. Frankly, it was...icky.
“Thank you, no.”
The boy’s features hardened. “Think you’re too good for me, do ya bitch?”
Rayanne had no idea what to do. The only men who’d ever come on to Ryan had been gay, and most of them had been perfectly fine once he’d explained he was straight. If they did have a problem, well, Ryan was, after all, a straight man who was well over six feet tall with the build to match. When he said no, people listened. Even if he was a cross-dresser.
Rayanne, on the other hand, was all of 5’4” and built like a ... well, a very short Victoria’s Secret model. Rayanne was everything Ryan had often dreamed of being. Unfortunately, Rayanne was also about as intimidating as a kitten. If things got physical, she didn’t stand a chance.
She glanced around for a knight in shining armor, but if anyone else had noticed what was going on, they were studiously avoiding the issue. She was on her own.
“Not at all. It’s simply that my husband wouldn’t be too happy about me spending time with another man.”
The kid’s eyes narrowed. “You ain’t wearing a ring.”
Rayanne shrugged. “It’s being resized. I’m pregnant so I’ve been putting on a lot of weight recently ... ”
“Whoa. Whoa. Pregnant? Um ... ” The young man scrambled out of his chair. “I gotta go.” And just like that he took off.
Rayanne pressed her hand to her chest over her rapidly beating heart. For just a minute she’d actually be
en scared. No, more than scared. Terrified. For the first time in her life she’d felt completely helpless. At the mercy of someone bigger and nastier than her. She suddenly realized that her safety wasn’t as assured as she thought it was. She was at the mercy of anyone bigger and stronger who wanted to hurt her. It wasn’t a nice feeling.
Was that how women felt all the time?
Rayanne shook off the negative feelings. She was going to enjoy her time as a woman however long it lasted. One asshole was not going to dampen her joy!
She quickly gathered up her shopping bags and headed out to the car. She’d go home, dress up pretty, and hit the town. That’s what she’d do. No sense in having this new body if she couldn’t enjoy it.
As she pulled out of the mall parking lot the engine light came on. “Shit, now what?” The last thing she needed was her car breaking down. She had things to do, places to go, lingerie to wear!
Fortunately there was an auto mechanic just up the road. She’d dealt with him before. He was honest and fair, as far as auto mechanics went.
THE MECHANIC FROWNED at the car before giving Rayanne a look that made her skin crawl. “I know this car. It belongs to Ryan Roberts. What are you doing with it?”
Rayanne flashed a smile. “I’m his cousin, Rayanne. He just let me borrow it while I’m here visiting and I couldn’t very well bring it back broken.”
The mechanic grinned as his gaze levelled on her boobs. “No you couldn’t. Why don’t you go have a seat in the waiting room and I’ll let you know when I’m finished.”
An hour later Rayanne stared at the bill aghast. It was nearly double what the mechanic had charged in the past. Back when Rayanne was Ryan. She’d heard of mechanics charging women more money, but she’d never believed it before.
“This is a lot of money for such a small job ... ”
The mechanic gave her the run-around about how it was a lot more complicated that it seemed, etc., and so on.
