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What's Yours Is Yours . . .
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She loved the way the dress flowed over her skin. The slinky garment fluttered around and showed off her legs as she walked.
HER dress. HER skin. It felt so good to think and say. Everyday she got to get up and look at HER reflection in the mirror and see HER smiling, feminine face. Sometimes she would walk around the high-rise and touch things as if she were claiming them: HER jewelry, HER Makeup, HER high heels. Her lips would curl into a smile when she did this, eyes twinkling with some delightful secret.
She wondered if the old Jeannie had moments like this one. Perhaps the former woman had those moments now that she was a man. She certainly didn’t seem like she missed her old life. In fact, she didn’t even seem all that upset about the “accident.” The former Jeannie never questioned the strange magic trinket that switched their lives. There was no rebuttal from the antique dealer and occult professor who told them that the change couldn’t be reversed. The new John accepted everything fed to him and the “professor” and “antique dealer” disappeared with pockets full of cash.
Now Jeannie was free to enjoy HER new life and name. She was the lady of the house and she relished every moment. The new Jeannie took pride in her appearance and made sure she always looked as feminine and fabulous as possible. It seemed all of HER friends loved the change in her. She looked and acted like a true trophy wife - something HER husband was enjoying. She had picked out this dress tonight because it was his favorite. He was waiting for her to finish getting ready, but she knew he didn’t mind these days. HER husband loved having a beautiful woman on his arm AND in his bed.