They were custom made to suit your skin color, your hair, and even your hourglass figure!” He said in his irresistible manly tone.“So? It’s not ...y type,” Mumtaz argued.“Fine, guess you won’t budge. I told you, I fell for you for what you are. You are too scared to even explore your beauty. I don’t think you can even accept me then. Bye,” he answered rudely.“Please, I can’t do this. Society won’t accept me!” Mumtaz started pleading. The lioness who used to frighten men at court with her words. (I had just realized that she must have been planning my transformation for some time, and that last night's argument was simply her way of setting me up.) On the floor below the garment bag was a large box with "start here" stenciled across the top. With trembling hands and jiggling tits I took the box to the bed to examine its contents. What a shock. I couldn't help being impressed with what she had chosen for me to wear. It was beautiful, but as I was to learn beauty is only skin deep.. More

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