Lisa smirked as she adjusted her husband’s tank top, letting the strap slip down his now slim shoulders. She smirked. “Well, look at you. How does it feel to wear your favorite ‘wife beater’ now, dear?”
Victor’s face flushed with anger and humiliation. His breasts strained against the thin fabric, nipples visible through the material. “Lisa, please... this has gone far enough.”
“Far enough?” Lisa circled him, her eyes gleaming. “You used to love wearing this when you slapped me around. Thought it made you look tough, showed off those ‘guns,’ as you liked to say. Now look at you. Disarmed and looking more like a pin-up girl than a tough guy.”
His eyes welled with tears. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. The drugs… I was—”
“Save it,” Lisa snapped. “You meant every slap, every shove. But now, thanks to those little hormone pills I slipped into your illegal painkillers, you’re softer than a marshmallow. You never even noticed, did you? Too busy getting high and playing the big man to realize you were sprouting tits.”
“I’m sorry for everything I did,” Victor’s voice trembled. “Please, can’t I have something else to wear? A sweatshirt? Anything? This is humiliating.”
“Humiliating? Try being smacked around by someone who was supposed to love you. This is just a taste of what you put me through.” Lisa leaned in, her breath hot against his ear. “Beg me, Victor. Beg me for something else to wear.”
His voice cracked. “Please, give me something else. Anything.”
Lisa walked over to the closet, pulled out a floral dress, and held it up for him to see.
His eyes widened in horror. “No. Not that.”
“Why not? It’s cute, isn’t it?” She waved the dress in front of him. “You used to love seeing me in this. Now it’s your turn.”
Victor took the dress from her with trembling hands and slipped it over his head. The fabric clung to his body in all the places he used to admire on Lisa.
She stepped back and admired her handiwork. “Look at you, Vic. You’re almost pretty enough to be my girlfriend now. Don’t worry, this won’t last forever.”
“It won’t?” he asked.
“Wearing my clothes? Hell, no. Soon, you’ll have dresses of your own!”