Chapter 12

Walking into Rod’s parents’ home in my hometown felt like stepping into another world—a world I was trying to balance with the new reality Mistress had shaped for me. I had dressed carefully, choosing a wide-legged denim jumpsuit that gave me a tall, elegant silhouette without revealing too much. My heels clicked softly against the tiled floor, a quiet nod to the woman I’d become, but my outfit was modest enough to soothe any initial doubts. My fake tits were concealed, my brown Monroe disk replacing the sparkling silver one, and my tongue piercing was hidden under the guise of soft pink half-balls.

I could still feel every alteration of my body, though. My fake tits shifted with each breath, my buttplug sent a delicious pressure through me, and my clit piercing teased me relentlessly. But tonight wasn’t about being a slut. It was about showing I could be Rod’s devoted wife, the perfect partner for the successful man they’d raised.

Rod held my hand as we stepped inside, his grip firm and reassuring. His parents greeted us warmly, but their eyes lingered on me for just a beat too long. I could see the unspoken questions in their expressions, their curiosity over my plump lips, my enhanced curves, my overall transformation.

“You’ve changed,” his mother said finally, her voice polite but tinged with curiosity.

I smiled sweetly, leaning into Rod slightly for support. “Looking pretty for my successful husband isn’t a crime, is it Mrs. Stone?” I replied, glancing up at him with a loving smile before pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

He grinned, his arm slipping around my waist. “And I owe a great deal of my accomplishments to my Liz,” he said proudly.

His words made me glow with pride. Mistress had been right—making Rod the center of attention was the key.

Dinner was cozy and lively, the table filled with the comforting smells of home-cooked food. My parents arrived shortly after us, exchanging hugs and pleasantries with Rod’s parents. The four of them had always gotten along well, and tonight was no different.

Rod sat at the head of the table, his father on one side, his mother on the other. I sat beside him, my parents across from me. I felt their eyes on me, flickering to my lips, my chest, my nails, my flawless makeup. It was subtle, but I could feel their silent appraisals.

“So,” Rod’s father began, his voice warm but probing. “What’s next for you two? You’ve already achieved so much.”

Rod smiled, his hand resting on my thigh under the table. “A bigger house is the next step,” he said confidently. “We’ve been looking at a few properties, something that fits where we are now.”

His mother beamed. “That’s wonderful, Rod. You’ve worked so hard for this.”

“And Liz has been right there with me,” Rod added, his voice full of pride. “She’s been my rock.”

I blushed slightly, reaching for his hand and squeezing it gently. “I just want to support him,” I said softly, my voice sweet and devoted. “He’s so incredible. I’m lucky to have him.”

Rod’s father chuckled. “I’d say he’s lucky to have you, too.”

As the conversation flowed, I noticed Rod’s father stealing glances at me when he thought no one was looking. His eyes lingered a little too long on my lips when I spoke, darted to my chest whenever I shifted in my seat. It didn’t bother me—in fact, it made me feel powerful. Mistress had taught me to embrace the attention, to revel in the effect I had on people.

I leaned closer to Rod, brushing his arm lightly. “Babe,” I whispered sweetly, just loud enough for the table to hear. “Can you pass me the salad?”

“Of course, Liz,” he said, his tone warm.

I smiled, batting my lashes as he handed me the bowl. “Thanks, stud,” I murmured, my voice dripping with affection.

My parents exchanged a look, but I caught my mom’s small smile.

Later, as I helped clear the table, my mom cornered me in the kitchen. “Liz,” she began, her tone hesitant but curious. “Did you ... get a boob job?”

I turned to her with a soft smile, placing the plates carefully on the counter. “Yes,” I admitted. “Don’t you like it?”

She studied me for a moment, her eyes flicking to my chest before meeting mine again. “You do look more ... upscale,” she said finally.

I laughed softly, feeling a twinge of relief. “Thanks, Mom. I just ... I have to grow with Rod’s career, you know? Be the wife he deserves.”

She nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You seem happy. That’s all that matters.”

“I am,” I said, meaning every word. “Happier than I’ve ever been.”

By the time dessert was served, the atmosphere had relaxed. My parents were laughing with Rod’s, the conversation easy and warm. The compliments came steadily—on Rod’s career, on our plans for the future, even on my appearance.

“You’ve really come into your own, Liz,” Rod’s mother said, her voice filled with genuine admiration.

I smiled, leaning into Rod and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Thanks. I just want to make him proud.”

As the evening wound down and our parents said their goodbyes, I felt a deep sense of satisfaction. Mistress had been right—my sweet charm had smoothed over any doubts, and I’d played my role perfectly.

Back in the guest room, Rod pulled me into his arms, his hands running down my back. “You were incredible tonight,” he murmured, his lips brushing against mine.

“I just wanted to make you proud,” I whispered, my voice soft and sweet.

“You always do,” he replied, holding me close.

When Liz and I finally found ourselves alone in the guestroom that night, the energy between us was different—softer, more intimate. The dinner with our parents had been a success, and I couldn’t have been prouder of her. She’d struck the perfect balance, navigating between her new, overtly sexy self and the sweet, devoted wife she had always been. Her words had been loving, her movements deliberate, and her charm had smoothed over any lingering doubts.

Now, as she slid into my arms, I felt the tenderness in her touch, the love in her gaze. Her pouty lips, still glistening from her signature gloss, curled into a soft smile as she looked up at me. “You were amazing tonight, babe,” she whispered, her voice like honey. “I love seeing you like this—so strong, so confident.”

I chuckled, brushing a strand of her platinum hair from her face. “I think you had a lot to do with that.”

Her hands drifted to my chest, her nails tracing slow, deliberate patterns. “Well, you deserve it,” she said softly, leaning in to press her lips against mine.

Our lovemaking that night was different from the wild, uninhibited passion we usually shared. There was a gentleness to it, a care that spoke of the deepening bond between us. Her soft caresses, the way her hands moved over my skin, her loving gaze—it all felt like an expression of the love that had grown so much stronger over time.

She guided my hands to her body, her skin warm and smooth under my touch. “You make me feel so beautiful,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

“You are beautiful,” I replied, my hands trailing over the curves of her hips.

Her buttplug, now always present, added a subtle edge to our union, a reminder of the layers she had embraced. As I moved within her, she let out soft sighs of pleasure, her voice trembling with need. But then, as the heat between us grew, something shifted.

Her words became playful, girlish, with a teasing edge of filth. “You like my big fake titties bouncing for you, don’t you, stud?” she cooed, arching her back to press herself closer to me. “They’re all yours. Every inch of me is yours.”

I growled softly, gripping her hips tighter as I pushed deeper into her. Her newfound boldness was intoxicating, but when her cries of pleasure grew louder, I instinctively covered her mouth with my hand.

Her wide eyes met mine, filled with something wild and exhilarated. She moaned against my palm, her body trembling as I thrust harder, faster, the sound of our connection filling the room. The control I exerted over her made something primal awaken inside me, and she seemed to thrive under it, her muffled cries urging me on.

When we finally reached our climax, it was like a tidal wave washing over us, leaving us both breathless and spent. Liz slid down to her knees afterward, her hands on my thighs as she took me into her mouth, her tongue stud glinting in the dim light. She was slow, deliberate, her movements almost reverent as she cleaned me, her lips swollen and glistening.

“You taste so good, babe,” she murmured, looking up at me with a soft, sweet smile. “I love taking care of you.”

I cupped her face in my hands, pulling her to her feet and into my arms. “And I love you,” I said simply, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

As we lay together in the aftermath, her head resting on my chest, I felt a profound sense of peace. Our relationship had evolved into something deeper, something more beautiful than I ever could have imagined.

The next morning, I woke to find Liz already awake, sitting at the vanity with her makeup spread out before her. Her soft smile reflected in the mirror as she applied her lipstick, the light catching the gleam of her freshly polished Monroe piercing. Her lashes were long and dramatic, her platinum blonde hair straightened to perfection.

“Good morning, stud,” she said sweetly, her voice bright and cheerful.

“Good morning,” I replied, stretching. But as I took in her appearance, my brow furrowed. “Liz, my parents are going to be shocked if you walk out like this.”

She turned to me with a bratty pout, sticking out her pierced tongue in playful defiance. “They’re your parents. They’ll survive,” she said with a giggle.

I sighed, shaking my head as she stood and slipped into her oversized leather blazer. “You’re impossible,” I muttered, watching as she adjusted it over her leather pushup bra.

“That’s why you love me,” she teased, winking at me as she pulled on her tiny leather shorts. From behind, they were almost invisible, leaving the curve of her perfect ass on full display.

“Liz...” I began, but she cut me off with a laugh.

“I’m just having fun, babe,” she said, slipping on her black leather thigh-high boots. “Besides, don’t you want to make our old friends jealous?”

Her grin was infectious, and despite myself, I couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re outrageous.”

“And you love it,” she replied, leaning in to press a kiss to my lips.

As I looked at her, standing there in all her scandalous glory, I knew she was right. Albeit her outfit was outrageous for our small hometown, my love for her only grew stronger. Liz was my wife, my partner, and she made life anything but boring.

Breakfast with Rod’s father was a test I wasn’t fully prepared for, but Mistress’s voice echoed in my mind: “Play your role, slut. Shock them, but keep your man at the center of your world.” It grounded me as I walked into the kitchen, my black leather thigh-high boots clicking against the floor, my oversized blazer swaying lightly with each step. Beneath it, my tiny leather shorts and pushup bra left little to the imagination, and the glint of my silver piercings caught the morning light.

Rod’s father looked up from his coffee, his face momentarily blank as his eyes scanned me. I caught the flicker of shock in his expression, quickly masked by his usual stoic demeanor. But his glances gave him away. His gaze lingered just a little too long on my chest, the swell of my fake tits barely contained by the tight leather bra.

“Mister Stone,” I purred, sliding into the chair across from him. My glossy lips curved into a sweet smile, my false lashes fluttering as I leaned forward slightly. “Do you like my tongue piercing?” I stuck my tongue out slowly, the silver stud glinting mischievously. “My treat for Rod...”

Rod shot me a look, his jaw tightening as he reached over and gave me a firm slap on the butt. The sound echoed through the kitchen, making me giggle.

“Behave,” he muttered, his tone low but authoritative.

“Yes, babe,” I replied sweetly, biting my lip to stifle another giggle.

After breakfast, we decided to walk through the town. Mistress had told me to shed my old self completely, to let them see the new Liz in all her glory. The stares started immediately. Men couldn’t help but gawk at my outfit—the way my leather shorts barely covered my ass, the way my boots hugged my legs, the way my tits bounced slightly with each step. Women whispered behind their hands, their expressions a mixture of shock and envy.

“Everyone’s looking at you,” Rod said quietly, his hand resting possessively on my lower back.

“They should,” I replied, turning my head to smile up at him. “I’m your trophy, after all.”

Lunch at the local diner was ... interesting. The place hadn’t changed at all—same worn booths, same faded menu boards, same scent of frying oil in the air. Jacob and Leila, our old friends, were still running the place, though the tension in the air was palpable the moment we walked in.

Jacob’s eyes widened slightly when he saw me, his gaze darting to my chest, my lips, my legs. “Liz?” he said, his voice filled with disbelief.

“Hi, Jacob,” I said cheerfully, sliding into a booth with Rod. “It’s been a while.”

Leila came out from the back, wiping her hands on a dishrag. Her eyes narrowed when she saw me, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Well, don’t you look ... different,” she said, her tone dripping with passive aggression.

“Thank you,” I replied sweetly, leaning into Rod. “My husband loves it.” I turned my head to give him a quick kiss, letting my tongue piercing flick against his lip just enough to make him grin.

“We’ve been doing really well,” Rod said, his voice calm and confident. “Liz has been amazing—supporting me, keeping everything running smoothly.”

“Clearly,” Leila muttered, her eyes darting to my chest.

“Life’s been good,” I continued, ignoring her tone. “Rod’s been killing it in his career. We’re looking at houses in the city. You know, something that matches our lifestyle.”

Jacob cleared his throat awkwardly. “That’s ... great. Really great.”

“It is,” I agreed, my voice light and bubbly. “We’ve worked hard for it. It’s nice to enjoy the rewards, don’t you think?”

Leila snorted softly, crossing her arms over her chest. “Well, some of us don’t feel the need to flaunt it.”

I turned to her, my smile unwavering. “Oh, I’m not flaunting, Leila. I’m just being myself. But I understand—it’s probably hard to relate.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You mean because I’m not walking around like a cheap slut?”

The word hit me like a slap, but instead of retreating, I leaned back in my seat and let out a soft laugh. “Better a sexy slut than a boring cunt,” I shot back, my voice as sweet as honey.

The tension snapped. Leila moved toward the table, her face flushed with anger. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

Rod stood quickly, placing himself between us. “Enough,” he said firmly, his tone brooking no argument. “They’re just jealous, babe. Let it go.”

I looked at her one last time, my lips curving into a slow, satisfied smile. “You’re right, stud,” I said, brushing my nails lightly against his arm. “They’re not worth it.”

As we walked out of the diner, I felt a surge of pride. Mistress had been right—I needed to shed my old wings completely, to show them all the new Liz. The stares, the whispers, the tension—it all fed into my sense of power, my confidence.

Rod’s arm tightened around me as we walked, his voice low. “You handled that well,” he said.

“Thanks, babe,” I replied, leaning into him. “I just wanted to make you proud.”

And I had. Walking away with my head held high, I felt every inch the nasty, slutty trophy wife I was meant to be.

The prospect of finding the perfect home filled me with excitement and purpose. Rod and I deserved a house that matched the life we were building together, a place where his success and my dedication as his wife could shine. I was determined to make it happen. Of course, Mistress had her own expectations for me during this process. “Show your skills, my slut,” she had said. “Seduce the real estate agent. Make them bend to your will for Rod’s benefit.”

Her words echoed in my mind as we drove to the property. I had dressed deliberately for the occasion—a tiny white crop top that barely covered my fake tits, a tight black leather skirt that hugged my hips and barely reached mid-thigh, and my tallest red stiletto heels. My makeup was flawless: thick eyeliner, long false lashes, and glossy pink lips that made my pout impossible to ignore. My platinum blonde hair fell in soft waves down my back, my Monroe and tongue piercings sparkling with every word I spoke. Mistress wanted me to shine, and shine I would.

The house was stunning, even from the outside. A sprawling property with a wide driveway, manicured lawns, and a modern design that spoke of luxury and status. Inside, it was even better—a spacious layout, a massive walk-in closet that made me salivate at the possibilities, and a basement that could easily become our playroom. I was already imagining the toys Mistress would insist on, the ways I could surprise Rod, the adventures we’d have in this house.

“This is perfect,” I whispered to Rod as we toured the upstairs.

“It’s amazing,” he agreed, his hand resting on my lower back. “But it’s pricey.”

I smiled up at him, my lips curling into a mischievous grin. “Leave it to me, stud.”

The real estate agent, a tall, slightly nervous blond guy named Ben, was the perfect target. His eyes flickered to my chest the moment I leaned in to shake his hand, his cheeks flushing as he stammered out a greeting.

“Thanks for showing us this beautiful property,” I said sweetly, brushing a strand of hair from my face. The movement caused my top to ride up just slightly, revealing more of my toned midriff and the curve of my breast.

Ben swallowed hard, his eyes darting back to my face. “Of course. It’s a fantastic house.”

When we reached the backyard, I decided to turn up the charm. The pool sparkled under the afternoon sun, and I walked over to the edge, my heels clicking against the tiles. “This pool is to die for,” I said, bending over to trail my fingers through the water. My skirt rode up, revealing just a hint of my thong.

Ben coughed, clearly flustered. “Y-Yes, it’s, uh, great for entertaining.”

As we walked through the kitchen, I leaned over the island, pretending to admire the countertop. My fake tits brushed against the cold surface, drawing his gaze like a magnet. “Mmm, I love this,” I purred, turning to look at him over my shoulder. “It’s perfect for hosting ... intimate gatherings.”

Rod was inspecting the pantry, oblivious to the way Ben’s jaw tightened as I swayed my hips ever so slightly. Mistress would be proud.

I straightened, brushing against him as I turned. “You know, Ben,” I said, my voice low and sultry, “Rod and I are looking for the perfect house to grow into. A place where we can really ... stretch out and enjoy ourselves. Do you think this is the one?”

He nodded quickly, his face red. “Definitely. It’s got everything you need.”

“Hmm,” I murmured, stepping closer. My fingers trailed lightly down his arm. “But the price ... it’s a little steep, don’t you think? I mean, I’m sure you could help us out. Right, Ben?”

His breath hitched as I pressed just a little closer, my fake tits brushing against his chest. “I-I’m sure we can figure something out,” he stammered.

By the time we finished the tour, I had him wrapped around my finger. Rod made his offer, and Ben barely hesitated before agreeing. As we shook hands to finalize the deal, I caught Ben stealing one last glance at my chest.

“Thank you so much, Ben,” I said, leaning in just enough for him to catch the scent of my perfume. “You’ve made this experience so enjoyable.”

As we drove away, Rod grinned, squeezing my hand. “You were incredible back there,” he said.

I laughed softly, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Anything for you, stud. I just want to make you happy.”