Chapter 7 - The New Incentive
The next morning at the gym we weighed to find that Kelly had
lost two pounds in her exertions of the night before, while I had lost
only a little. Smiling with remembered pleasure, we nonetheless
realized that Kelly's savings might be only temporary. We needed a
new incentive. Kelly drew me aside and began to whisper.
"For our next ten pounds, I already know your incentive," she
grinned.
"Indeed?" I questioned with arched eyebrow.
"Sure," she chuckled. "You already have the lingerie, though
for some reason we didn't get to the nightgown, yet," she grinned,
fully aware of the reason. "The next step is clearly to get you some
feminine outer clothes. I think three outfits again. Let's see. One
will be a casual outfit, with a denim mini-skirt, lacy blouse, and
high-heeled sandals. The second will be a trim women's suit, with
ruffles on the blouse, and the third will be a dress. I may have to
think about the dress for a while, but I have some ideas in mind."
My blood was rising to my cheeks, what there was of it since
much of my blood seemed occupied elsewhere. I turned to the wall to
keep from advertising too explicitly and looked at Kelly in amazement.
"You're really excited at the thought of transforming me," I
whispered in surprise.
"I intend to keep pushing as long as it excites you, as it
certainly did last night," she giggled.
"Okay," I replied, "but two can play at this game. For your
incentive, since you already have a denim mini and a business suit, I
will concentrate on a dress. Your body is looking better all the
time, so we're going to show it off a little. We'll find you a
leather dress, soft as butter, and so tight that it would show your
panty and bra lines, except," I paused for effect," you won't be
wearing any."
Now it was Kelly's turn to blush. She has always resisted
too-revealing clothes, except for relatively short skirts. I had
often urged her to go braless but she had demurred except for exercise
clothes, citing her definitely greater-than-average endowment. Now,
though, she knew I wasn't joking. With a small gulp, she nodded. The
change in each of us was hard to believe. Over the last month or so,
while we had only lost about ten pounds, we had shed a truckload of
inhibitions. Kelly was beginning to realize that she could be a
knockout if she put out a little effort, and was having tremendous fun
with me as a full-size Barbie doll. For myself, if someone had told
me a month ago that I would be wearing an incredibly tight corset,
impossibly tall heels, and glamorously beautiful makeup, I would have
laughed even as I blushed. Now, I could hardly wait for our next
plateau of intensity.
A definite goal helped me keep my appetite under control and I
made it through the day with little to eat. That evening, I had
stripped down and was considering what to wear when Kelly sauntered
in.
"I think you need a little more practice," she offered, and
reached for my satin pumps.
"I will if you will," I countered.
Kelly grinned and nodded, knowing that she was more
comfortable in them than I was. She handed me my garter belt and
well-filled bra, and then showed me a package of several of the thong
bikinis in my size. I looked around for the dark, seamed stockings,
but Kelly said she had washed them out and they were drying. Instead,
she gave me a pair of sheer suntan stockings, similar to the color of
the pantyhose I had been wearing. Soon I was dressed and again
tottering on the towering heels, trying to remember how to walk. I
slipped on my short robe, and waited for Kelly to dress in her own
matching outfit.
We ate our salad supper, discussing the days events. As
darkness approached, Kelly got up and slipped on a pair of shorts
which were just long enough to cover the tops of her stockings. She
added a tee-shirt and began to put on her running shoes.
"Hurry up," she said, "it's time for our walk."
I quickly (or at least as quickly as I could in the spiked
pumps) went into the bedroom and found a sport shirt and some longer
shorts which would cover the tops of my own stockings. Removing my
heels, I pulled on the clothes and then my own running shoes. Soon we
were on our way, striding briskly along our path. A few blocks from
our house, we met our neighbor, Billie Jo coming the other way. I
tried to casually move behind Kelly to hide my stockings and the bosom
my tight shirt revealed. Since it was dark it was not too obvious,
but the amused smile was back in Billie Jo's eyes. Billie Jo was
striding purposefully herself and our combined pace allowed us to pass
with nothing more than a wave. Once we were by, however, I could
swear that I felt Billie Jo's eyes gazing at the backs of my legs. I
blushed hotly but kept walking, trying to seem as though there were
nothing unusual about us.
"She sure was looking us over," Kelly noted.
"She mentioned that she noticed we had lost weight," I said.
"When did you talk with her?" Kelly asked.
"When I went to pick up our package, yesterday after work. We
only talked for a minute," I explained.
As we walked along, Kelly was lost in thought. In a few
minutes, she asked, "Do you think she's pretty?"
"What brought that on?" I asked.
"Answer the question," she directed.
"Well," I replied, "I guess so, if you like them lean and sort
of hard, but her hair's too short. I prefer women who are more
feminine, like you."
"That's good," Kelly smiled, but she still had a thoughtful
expression.
That night after we had returned home I went to remove my
lingerie and Kelly followed me into the bedroom. She brought out a
package I had not yet seen.
"When you get undressed, leave everything off except for the
thong," she directed.
For a moment, I wondered what was in the box, then I
remembered that she had promised a nightgown as part of the first
incentive package. Opening the package with a flourish, Kelly drew
out a long, wine-red gown.
"What do you think of it?" she asked.
"Goodness," I replied, "it certainly is red."
Kelly laughed and held it up to the light. It seemed to be
mostly sheer, including everything below the waist. The gown was
sleeveless, with a halter-style lace collar. In a moment, I realized
the non-see-though portions were concentrated just above the waist and
in the collar. She motioned me to stand and try it on.
Blushing with anticipation, I complied. She slipped the gown
over my up-stretched arms and let it fall about my legs. The high
lace collar was fastened about my neck and then I saw the purpose of
the opaque panels at the midriff. This gown incorporated a corset of
its own! In a moment, Kelly had me holding on to the bedpost again
and was working the slack out of the laces.
"I had to order a special collar," she giggled in my ear as
she worked. "They don't have many with a 16 inch neck. But you need
the high collar to hide your Adam's Apple."
The more-delicate material of the nightgown wouldn't allow as
tight a lacing as the stiffer satin corset so I was soon bedecked in
the flowing red material. It was sheer over my (flat) bust, and
clearly showed the minimum thong bikini.
"Why did you choose red?" I asked.
"Oh, you don't want everything in just one color. Besides, I
figured you would look really good in a dark red. Men don't usually
wear red suits so I couldn't really tell for sure, but the color is
great on you!"
"It's too late tonight to do your face again," she continued,
"but we will have to try that out together with the gown. That blush
clashes, though," she laughed, as the idea brought a flush to my
cheeks.
Then she extracted the matching peignoir. As I put it on and
fastened the ribbon ties, I realized that the combination of two
layers made the outfit entirely opaque. It now was suitable for a
lady to wear as "something more comfortable" without directly exposing
all of her assets, though so provocative that the invitation would be
unmistakable. The long hems of both the nightgown and the peignoir
dragged on the floor, really too long by a few inches. As I swept the
flowing material around, Kelly noticed it brushing the floor.
"Oh," she cried, "I almost forgot."
She brought out another smaller box and extracted a pair of
feathery slippers, perched on several inches of died-to-match satin
heel. Slipping these on my feet, the outfit was complete. Once again
the high-heeled shoes had done their magic, making my legs appear long
and shapely. Kelly pulled me around to look in the mirror, and
pleased smiles lit both our faces. However, Kelly was still in her
walking clothes, and shorter by so many inches that her head didn't
clear my shoulder. The contrast in heights triggered us to remember
that Kelly was supposed to have a similar outfit.
As she brought hers out I realized that Kelly had chosen a red
tone for her outfit as well, but in a pale pink which made her tanned
skin seem warm enough to glow in the dark. Soon I was lacing her into
her own gown and then helping her with her peignoir and shoes. In
interesting contrast to my own bust, her dark nipples seemed enormous
behind the sheer pink layer. Even with two layers hiding the color,
the erect buds provided undeniable indications of her arousal.
"Come with me," she said, and took my hand.
We strolled together through the house to the back door.
Kelly stepped out onto our foot-lighted patio, obviously heading
toward the lounge chairs placed there. I held back at the door.
"I can't go out there dressed like this. What if someone
sees?"
"Then we have them arrested for being a peeping Tom," she
giggled.
Pulling harder on my hand, she urged me out of the house. As
we sat on the lounges, the lower parts of our robes slipped open,
revealing the transparency of the single sheer layer beneath. I tried
to pull the soft material back around my legs, but Kelly laughed as
the almost-liquid flow whispered down again. The footlights gave the
patio a warm, soft glow, leaving our heads in relative shadow. In a
few minutes our eyes adjusted and it seemed as though the patio were
brightly lit, but I knew that features would be hard to make out from
any distance.
Kelly looked absolutely angelic in the soft light. Her pale
robes seemed ready to blossom into wings at the slightest invitation.
My own darker outfit suggested an entirely different sort of creature,
which elicited a chuckle from me.
"What are you laughing at," she asked with a perplexed smile.
"You are so gorgeous in the moonlight, you look like an angel
about to take wing. On the other hand, my red outfit suggests
. . . ," I explained.
Kelly's silvery laugh tinkled out into the darkness.
A flicker of motion caught my eye, in an upstairs window in
Billie Jo's house. For a moment, I thought I might have seen a face
in her window, looking out through parted curtains, but the
higher-level darkness concealed any detail even more effectively than
the shadows on our patio. It could just as easily have been a
reflection from a tree limb passing before the moon.
After a short period of quiet silence, we were relaxed and
ready for bed. Kelly gracefully flowed up from her lounge, and helped
to steady me as I struggled up onto my heels. Laughing, Kelly
confirmed that I did need practice in walking in women's shoes. As I
worked to remember my hip swing, we moved back across the patio and
into the house. The soft material swishing over my bare ass cheeks
fascinated me as I walked. It provided real-time feedback on how well
I was moving, which helped me to make rapid progress. When I
mentioned this to Kelly, she suggested that I walk around for a few
minutes. Soon I was able to sashay nearly as well as she did, even
without thinking about it. The shorter stride necessitated by the
high heels became more natural and Kelly grinned with compliment for
my progress.
We finally headed for the bedroom and carefully removed our peignoirs.
The sheer material of the nightgowns revealed Kelly's nipples, which
highlighted the contrast with mine.
"Oh, well, can't have everything," I mused as we slid into
bed.
Nestling in each others arms, we drifted off to sleep. My
last thought was of how the still-tight corset reminded me to keep my
belly sucked in. I wondered if wearing it all night would help even
when I took it off.
Our new routine continued. We worked out every morning, and
our weights resumed their downward trend. I practiced on my new shoes
in the evening, and we went on our walks. I generally wore pantyhose
rather than the garter belt and stockings, and seldom wore the bra.
Some evenings, we saw Billie Jo who continued to wear an amused
expression. Our waves in passing became brief hello's. One evening,
thankfully while I was not wearing the bra and falsies, Billie Jo
motioned us to stop.
"You guys are looking much better," she complimented us.
I nodded from behind Kelly's shoulder, where I had moved to
try and hide my legs.
"Thanks," Kelly said. "We're trying."
Smiling, Kelly moved on with a wave. I scurried to keep her
between Billie Jo and myself, prompting an even wider version of the
seemingly perpetual amused grin on Billie Jo's face. As we passed, I
was sure that Billie Jo turned to look after us.
"I think she knows," I whispered to Kelly.
"Maybe," she agreed, "but she seems friendlier than she did
before. Maybe she likes it. Or maybe it is just that we both look
more fit. She seems so body-conscious. That may be all she notices
about anyone."
"I don't know," I disagreed, unconvinced.
