"Worn With Delight" or "Made To Last Forever"

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The Clothes make you . . .

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Worn With Delight:

The gown wanted you, so it came to you.  An unmarked package that appeared on your doorstep, you took it into your home and opened the lid.  The frilly garment sat inside, neatly folded and looking like antique lingerie.  As you touched it to feel it’s sheer, silky texture, faint whispers filled your ears.  They grew in strength and clouded your thoughts.  You tried to shake your head as a shroud of dizziness felll over you, but the whispers took root in your mind with a mantra.

“Wear Me”

Again and again the gentle caress of those two words stroked a curiosity that had been building ever since you laid eyes on the delicate garment.  The feeling grew within you until you finally disrobed and picked it up.  You held it for a moment and admired the craftsmanship as the desire to wear it consumes your thoughts. As you slipped it on it, you felt a consciousness within the threads.  The cool touch of the grown was like a tender embrace from a lover as it fell over your nude body and your skin absorbed the gentle sensation.  You felt the consciousness flow through your body and into your brain, wrapping it’s tendrils around your spirit.  Your mind embraced the visitor as your body  shifted itself into a different form.  Hips flared out while your waist pinched in and created a gentle yet distinctive curve.  Muscle melted from your legs and left behind slender, graceful limbs.  You moaned again, this time in an unfamiliar smooth alto, as your ass swelled into a luscious plump peach and your skin turned pliant and supple.  

The tickle of wine-tinted hair against your neck and shoulders made you coo and whimper with erotic pleasure and the thick mane felt like spun silk when your slender fingers brushed through it.  As you glanced down at your chest through thick lashes, breasts sprouted and rapidly grew.  You sighed in delight as you felt their delicious helt as they hung like ripe fruit.  Finally, the last vestiges of your manhood disappeared into a newly-formed moist slit and the whispers changed to a new feminine chant.  

“You are Wendy.  Love thy Beauty and wear me forever.”

And You did.