Gooner, Crossdresser, Himbo

The randomizing letters finally stopped. Three terms were now across from the names. In order, they were:

William Port: Gooner

Clarence O'Donnell: Crossdresser

Jonathan Jones: Himbo

I was flabbergasted at the things on the screen. "What kind of sex-game console is this? Did that drunk perv make it?" I look out to the people in the bar with me. While I notice slight differences in Johnny, my boss Clarence's outfit of a black button-up with jeans and black boots was drastically changed.

With black fishnet stockings and platform sandals, he wore a glossy-red tube dress that hugged his bulky form and barely covered his butt. When he bent over to unplug a cord, I could see a pair of lacy black panties stretched around his furry ass. As a guy who likes very masculine guys in feminine/racy clothes, the sight started to stir something in me.

I focus on Johnny to notice he's carrying himself differently and his body looked bigger. Before, his muscles were sleek and tight to his body. Now he looked like a bodybuilder who lived at the gym. His pecs were so plump, they stretched out his security t-shirt and lifted it enough to expose his navel. The jeans he wore were now straining against his new bubble of a butt and thick thighs; I had to quell my lust to not look indecent in front of them.

He was also no longer sulking around, but he still looked distant in thought (or the lack of it.) He turned towards you and nervously smiled before it dropped into a frown and he turned away. This was shocking. He rarely smiled at anyone he wasn't talking to. I was surprised he wasn't mad at me for how I spoke to him before.

Clarence then called out, "Hey Johnny, come help me take out the trash. Meanwhile, Jay, you need to put up the chairs and finish sweeping since you're just standing there"

"Oh. Alright but, uh, maybe I should do it myself. Don't want you breaking a heel out there and hurting yourself." Johnny responded in an unusually soft tone. His voice was still deep, but a little less gruff and dour. I also had to take note that neither of them noticed that they had changed. They were acting like the boss wearing skimpy women's clothes is normal.

With an unamused look on his face, Clarence said, "...Boy, can't you see I'm wearing sandals. I literally can't break a heel."

"Oh... well... you can't always... be good at walking on your big shoes..."

I was staring at this exchange in confusion. It had to be the worst excuse to not talk to one's boss that had ever been used. It was so weirdly phrased and delivered as well. Johnny wasn't too much smarter than the average person, but he felt way less book-smart when he spoke then. Like he was guessing a lot of stuff as he said it.

Clarence continued to stoneface his doorman's dopey responses, then curtly said, "Just take the trash outside."

Johnny clammed up and obediently went to the trash cans, pulled out most of the bags, then marched out into the alley. The boss grabbed the rest and followed. It seemed like Clarence wanted to give my coworker another talking to. I felt bad and wanted to stop Johnny's scolding, but I had to finish the cleaning and was confused by all of the unacknowledged sudden changes. Going over it after putting up the chairs and sweeping most of the dirt, I thought to myself, 'It seems like it's all connected to-'

Suddenly, a strange stench entered my nostrils and halted my revelation. For the first 3 seconds, it was very foul and gross, but it surprisingly mellowed out into a pleasurable musky scent over time. It's borderline intoxicating to the point of not being able to think about anything else. I had to refocus my thoughts to avoid falling into a stink stupor.

I looked to the bar and realize where the stench is coming from. I could feel it waft over from the last patron's body. He was still sitting there, dispassionately scrolling through his phone's camera roll. A notification then dropped down and he stood up to stretch his lanky limbs. When he did so, he turned side profile to me and I audibly gasped at what I saw: his fully erect boner straining his dress pants. It was so prominent that the pants seemed like they were tailored to show it off.

The last customer turned to me and asked, "What? Do I have any bad stains on me?" He looked all over his outfit, but especially his bulging crotch. I shook my head when he turned back to me. He then said, "Eh, guess it doesn't matter. Anyway, my ride is here. Sorry if I stunk the place up, but it looks like you don't mind. See you later," and then walked out the door.

I'm befuddled by his last remark, but I soon looked down to find I was as erect as he was. I was freaked out and confused, so I walked over to the bar to lean against it for a breath. Then, I see a card on the wooden counter. A business card for "William Port - Restaurant Interior Designer" with a picture of a clean-shaven guy and the company logo; it was definitely the guy who just left that was photographed on it. I instantly pulled the device out of my pocket, having all the evidence that it is what caused all the weird shit going on. When I looked at the gadget's screen, it had a message in a box reading:

ACHIEVEMENT: FIRST SHIFT

REWARD: AN EXPLANATION

REMOVE ANTENNA TO RECEIVE