As Roy marched into the photography studio, a surge of emotions struck him like a freight train: excitement, dread, and exhaustion all at once. It’d been a wild ride since that fateful night when he took on Ben’s ridiculous bet.
“You wouldn’t last a week with tits, let alone a month!” Ben had said, his face twisted in a smug smile. 
“Wanna bet?” Roy replied.
They were drunk, as usual, and Roy had ignored the niggling voice in the back of his mind that warned him he was making a dumb decision. He’d always been an impetuous thrill-seeker eager to embrace any challenge.
Ben chugged his beer and smirked. “I’ll cover the cost of the implants. You make it to the end of the month with them, and I’ll give you ten grand.” 
“Piece of cake,” Roy had scoffed.
Everything was arranged, and a week later, Roy woke up to a nurse assuring him that everything had gone according to plan. He had breasts! And they were massive!
At first, Roy tried to stay holed up in his apartment, avoiding the stares and gawks he attracted whenever he ventured outside. His naturally slender frame combined with the implants made people, especially men, stop and ogle.
Roy was mortified, but he soldiered on, knowing that if he made it through the month, he would be $10,000 richer. The month seemed to last forever, but eventually , Roy made it to the finish line.
“I win!” Roy had said to Ben triumphantly in a sports bra and a tank top.
Ben glanced at the bulging mounds on Roy’s chest, bit his lip, and sighed. “I’m sorry, man. I was gonna pay you, honest.”
“Was?” Roy’s heart lurched with panic. “What do you mean?”
“Ever heard of cryptocurrency?” Ben shrugged. “Turns out investing in it isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I lost every last penny. I can’t pay you for the bet or even to remove the implants. I’m sorry, man.”
Roy was devastated. He didn’t have nearly enough money to have the implants removed. He was stuck with breasts!
Several weeks passed, and Roy sank into despair. Then, one day, he stumbled across an ad on a lingerie model website. It promised good pay for an hour of posing in lacy underwear. Why not give it a shot? He had breasts, after all.
As it turned out, nobody cared whether he was male, female, or somewhere in between. All they cared about was having someone to fill out the bras, and Roy did that very well. He made more money modeling lingerie in the first few weeks than he had earned in months of low-paying jobs.
“The breasts are fantastic,” the agency gushed. “But have you considered taking estrogen? It will soften your features and make you more marketable. It will also help the implants appear more natural.”
At first, Roy was hesitant, but the money was too good to resist. The estrogen and anti-androgens made him feel strange, but the changes to his body skyrocketed his modeling rates. Soon, he was a bona fide lingerie model, with a wardrobe to match.
And now, at last, today was his final photo shoot. After a year of this madness, he’d finally have enough money to remove the implants and return to his old life.
“Damn, you look amazing,” the photographer said, snapping away on his camera. “Listen, I heard you were done after today. That true?”
Roy smiled, the fabric of his frilly lingerie brushing against his skin. “Yep. It’s my last shoot.”
“That’s a damn shame,” the photographer said. “You got great potential here. I’d love to line up some more shoots for you. I’m talking serious cash. As in ten thousand dollars per shoot.”
Roy was stunned. Ten grand?! That was triple the usual rate! Roy grinned. After a year of this insanity, what was a couple more months? 
“You know what?” he said. “I’m in.”