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Chapter 4 – Getting dressed

I slowly came to staring at the ceiling. Slowly I began to realize I was in our bedroom. Looking down I gasped in shock, nearly loosing it again. There before my eyes were two very pronounced, well formed mounds on my chest draped by the bed sheets. I slowly moved my hand down my body feeling my smooth skin not wanting to find what I knew must not be down there, but I just had to confirm. As my hand moved across my skin, my nails lightly grazed my skin extending out further than I expected sending shivers throughout my body. I tried to push the observation out of my mind they all the sensations seem to focus towards the destination of my hand; I had to know.

Slowly, I reached where my pole should have been, only to find soft smooth skin. I whimpered a bit at my loss but soldered on. Suddenly, my hand reached an all too familiar yet foreign slit. Probing slightly inside the rather moist folds, I gasped as my finger reached a very sensitive nub. The sensation it sent through my body caused my back to arch and my head to throw back. I was not expecting that.

Knowing I really shouldn't, I felt the need to explore more. As my fingers moved down my slit, each gently grazed the sensitive nub causing several moans to escape my lips. As I continued to explore, I began to loose myself. However, all too quickly I heard a throat cleared at our bedroom door.

My eyes flew open to see a figure that was not unlike how I was, but still slightly different. I quickly sat up bolt right in bed when I realized what it must look like I was doing (which in actuality was probably rather accurate). I noticed as I settled in this person's gaze was on my reverberating chest that was now exposed outside the sheets. I blushed profusely at the realization of my exposure. However, the warmth I was experiencing from the apparent realization seemed to prevent the compulsion in the back of my mind to cover up. Instead, I seemed to nervously wiggle a bit as I bowed my head a bit trying to ignore the conflicting emotions.

"Sorry I missed you waking up, hun. I guess this is all quite a shock." I could only nod, not really trusting myself as tried to play back all the writing in my head.

"I assume by your reaction, it is Geoff in there."

Nod.

"Well, it's me, Stacey. I guess those papers really did work." She slowly brought the glass of water that she was holding in her hand. It seemed like she was afraid if she moved too much she'd startle me. I think the situation had me rather startled all on its own.

I took the offered cup and quickly gulped it down. As I drank, she sat on the bed next to me and wrapped her arm around me. I instinctively wiggled in a bit closer to her as I put the glass down.

"For what its worth, hun, I have to admit that was a really great way to wake up this morning. I can see why you wanted it so often. You really seemed to like it." This caused me to blush deeply again.

She then reached over and put her hand beneath my chin. She then turned me to face directly at her. As her now very strong eyes looked directly into mine, I felt suddenly captivated. "Thank you, hun."

Before I could even realize I was about to form words, I responded, "Thank you, Master." This brought me fully awake as my head shifted forward noticeably cringing.

"'Master' is it? I guess that was part of your paper." I nodded my head. "Maybe you'll have to tell me what else you wrote," at this I went noticeably pal. I could NOT let her know all the entries. I just hope she didn't read them already. "But I think I'll just leave it as a mystery. Besides, the parchment pieces seemed to have disappeared I can't find them anywhere." To this I noticeably exhaled.

"Well, we probably ought to find where that crazy old man is you mentioned and see if he can fix this. You know, you really should ask for clarity of directions more often, hun. I can't think how often I've had to tell you that. Do you remember where the store was?"

I simply nodded my response.

"Well, why don't we go ahead and get dressed. Where is the store at?"

I tried to think of a way to keep from answering but was distracted by the thought of the fact she mentioned "we…getting dressed". "Downtown, near my work, Master."

She chuckled as she saw me cringed. "You're not going to call me 'Master' all the time are you?"

"No, Master, only in private. In public I should use respectful, but socially acceptable terms such as 'Sir' or 'Mr. Johansen'." I can't believe how easily I answered that.

At that she chuckled and grabbed some shorts, a T-Shirt, and some simple shoes. I was amazed at how comfortable and confident she moved. That must have been something she put down. Come to think of it, she did often criticize my lack of assertiveness.

"Go ahead and get dressed, hun." I was dreading hearing that. I noticed she started to get dressed on the bed. I wanted to stay under the protection of the covers, but I was compelled to get up out of bed now.

Looking in the closet obviously more than just my body had changed. The only pants I could identify would only fit her now; not that it would have made much difference to me now based on some of the other entries I put down. Everything else was skirts and dresses, & no longer in the modest style she had. No, I had to specify more revealing and accessible styles. Idiot!

I grabbed the longest skirt I could find and slid into it. It went all the way down to 2 inches above my knees. It was a nice, solid black pleated skirt so at least it didn't cling to my skin and show off my features. Next I had to find a top. I found a decent (I use that term rather loosely) blue baby doll t-shirt that stopped just above my belly button.

Looking down I saw the next set of apparel I was dreading: shoes. Too many of the heels looked like something I would break my ankle or neck on with towering thin spikes. Finally I spotted a pair that had a bit of a wider heal to them, although the sole did look a bit thicker than most of the others. Oh well, I then proceeded to bend over to grab them. As I reached all the way over, I heard a whistle from the room behind me. I immediately grabbed the shoes and shot straight back up. Feeling blood rush to my face in embarrassment from the showing I just gave, but also a bit of flow to between my legs. Why did I have to try to change her arousal triggers?!?

"Nice view, hun! Very bold choice. You might want to choose something a bit more conservative for this outing, but something tells me you can't."

No shit, Sherlock! I was definitely going to have to be conscious of how I moved in this skirt. Otherwise, I was going to be giving a way a lot of free shows.

I turned back to the other room and sat on the bed to put on the shoes.

"Wow! Those are adventurous, hun."

Placing each shoe on my feet, they fit like a glove. I don't think I've ever felt a shoe fit so well. At least I did stipulate that! Maybe get some comfort out of them. Then I realized I need to stand up at some point, so might as well.

This was definitely a new perspective for me.

"Wow! I'm impressed you're able to stand in 5" heels even if there is a 1" platform on those. You better watch your head going through doors." Oh god, she was right. I had actually had an inch to her already tall frame. These heels would put me at 6' 6"! No wonder my perspective was so different.

She noticed the shock realization on my face. "You're not going to put any panties or a bra on?"

The question snapped me back to my current prison reality. I looked at her pleading as I shook my head no.

"Well, didn't you at least give me the option of wearing panties?"

I shook my head yes.

"Then why don't you wear some?"

"Because you have to allow me to, Master."

This brought out peels of laughter. "Oh god that is just too rich! You really did do a number on yourself."

I just looked at her pouting, hoping to get some solace from my plight.

"Wow, you do that pout very well. Hrmm… rather odd affect on me. Well, tell you what, maybe I will let you were some panties." At that she saw me perk up just a little bit. Then I saw a wicked grin come across my old face, "beg me to let you wear panties, little one." This was the term we often used for her during our light D/s sessions before. A felt a rush of blood between my thighs as I could feel my lips swelling. "If you are convincing, I might just let you."

Suddenly, I found myself at her feet begging, "Please, Master, please let your little slut wear panties. I will be a good little girl and do what is asked of me. Please, Master! Please!" That was almost word for word how I used to have her beg. The worst part of it was I think I actually meant it. Why did I have to put so much submission onto the paper?

This brought out even more laughter from it. It actually hurt to feel like I was the butt of some joke for her. Didn't she understand this was not right? This needed to be fixed, now! Chuckling she managed to squeeze out, "yes… go get some panties."

I went over to the dresser and opened up her lingerie drawer. Oh, if only it had always had these contents! We wouldn't even be in this mess. *sigh* Now, I'm the victim of my own male hormones, or previously soon to be corrected male hormones. I suddenly realized that these panties were not going to offer much help, but I grabbed the most conservative pair I could find. Finding the top of the black thong panties, I slid my huge shoes through them and stood up.

Still chuckling Stacey continued, "Oh this is just too rich. My over imaginative husband writes down some silly ass wish list for me, only to screw up the instructions and wind up getting it himself. And here he stands before me in something akin to slut attire about to go out in public. Plus, given the opportunity to actually *wear* panties after *begging* for it, he chooses a pair of thong panties." More laughter. "Oh this is just great. Go do something with your hair."

I couldn't believe how embarrassing this all is. Having the altered body of my WIFE, dressing in the most provocative clothes she could ever have worn, getting ready to go out in public, begging to wear panties, and her in there laughing at me in my own body! Worst of all, it was making me horny! All because I wrote some stupid words on a piece of parchment.

Looking in the mirror, I realized I did at least one thing right for her. Picking up the brush on the counter and quickly moving it through my hair, it was instantly styled. I always did hate waiting for her to do her hair and makeup.

Now that the task was done, the image in the mirror finally hit me. That blue-eyed, blonde bombshell with the 40DD rack, the simple 32" waste, round 38" hips, and long shapely legs that was almost too tall to see herself in the mirror that was me now. Not the idealized version of my wife.

I almost wanted to cry, but I couldn't have a pity party; we had to go get this fixed. Upon walking back into the bedroom I was conscious now of every step. I could feel my breasts bounce with every step, my hips swayed as my feet moved in a straight line, my body slinked as I moved along. I even made her walk sexy. "Can we leave now, Master?" If for no other reason than to stop having to constantly call you 'Master'.

"In that outfit, you really need some makeup. Go put some on." In steps the compulsion, and out I go. As I reach the makeup, my hands begin to put on makeup as if they had always done it. Stacey didn't even used to do lipstick unless we were going out to dinner or dancing. Here I was putting on lipstick, blush, and mascara like a pro. What have I done?

I return back to the bedroom feeling the heat build between my thighs as I waltz back in. "Am i ready, Master?" Did I really just ask that?

"Let's go, little one." She's saying that a bit too easily.

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