My Wife`s revenge ( Part Three)
Feeling that this was yet one more day of her punishment, I finished my breakfast and walked back to my room to get ready for ‘Our first girls day out at the mall’, as my wife called it. She told me that she had taken care to lay out a ‘really pretty outfit’, sure to turn some heads. She was right about that! Laying on my bed was a a complete hot pink silk lace panty, bra, and camisole set, with a matching lace garter. A very short grey suede skirt, cropped jacket, lace stockings, and suede stiletto heels, all exactly the same shade of grey. I had given up protesting, and after getting naked, slipped on the panties, bra and camisole. I carefully slide into each stocking and fastened the garter around my slender waist. Reaching down, I had a bit of time attaching the stockings, as my nails were taking me some time to get used to. I tried on the heels and they actually felt very comfortable to walk in. Getting into the skirt proved to be a bit of a challenge, as it had been tailored to be very fitted, and on the Girne Escort short side of length. Putting on the jacket, I had hoped two things… one, that it was ample enough to hide my lace camisole, and two, that it was long enough to hide my skin tight skirt. No and no. It fit very snug around my breasts and had one button set very low. The effect was to show off my camisole and ample cleavage. The second point was that now my ‘suit look’ was very short, tailored, and left very little to the imagination. I took time to apply my makeup, brushed out my hair, and slipped on a pair of large hoop earrings, bracelet, and my watch. Looking at myself in the mirror, I did somewhat become less shocked in how I looked, but was shocked at how well I had put myself together, and how my gestures and mannerisms were now changing. I was looking at myself now standing in front of the mirror, with one hand on my hip, while the other was playing with my bangs to fluff them up. One of my toes Magosa Escort was pointed out, and my hips were pointing out to one side as well.Walking out into the living room, my wife let out a whistle and exclaimed how incredibly beautiful I looked, and how well I had done my makeup and accessorized without the least bit of help. She said that I also had developed a graceful walk, and mannerisms to march. ‘Gee thanks, I`m so lucky to have a supportive wife like you’, I thought to myself. Walking out to the car, it was trash day, and the men had just pulled up to out house. As I was to get into the passenger side, I heard one of them yell to my wife, “Who`s the new girl?”She replied that I was Steve`s cousin, and was into town for awhile. He said that he hoped to get my number, and would love to show me the town. Yet another man who was hitting on me. ‘Will this ever stop?’ I sadly thought to myself. Looking at my reflection in the glass door of the house, I saw a stunning Kıbrıs Escort looking woman, dressed hot enough to attract every man that caught sight of her. I was not looking forward to the mall.As we rode to the mall, my wife seemed to be enjoying herself so much with every little detail of my ‘becoming a woman’ and seeing me struggle and fight with my transition.We hadn`t spoken for about 20 minutes of the ride, and while we were stopped at a red light she looked over to me and said, “You know Brittany, I`m doing everything possible to ease you into your new persona, and the least you could do is be civil to me.”I really could not believe what had just come out of her mouth. In shock, I blurted out “Are you Crazy! You bring me to a hospital with a story that I`m going to have some sort of simple procedure. I wake up to find out that I have had surgery after surgery to give me breasts, completely change the look of my face, give me hips, and you cut off my cock! I`m supposed to now be comfortable with you dressing me like some slut, and having man after man hit on me! I feel that every guy out there wants to screw me! I even go to the mall without knowing that every man there is getting a hard on looking at me!” I began to cry, and thinking,’These damn hormones are making me so emotional!’.