Once the Fiancé, Now the Bride (4/12)

The bright, polished floors of the mall echoed with the sharp clicks of Tom’s wedges as he trailed behind Kat and Lucy, his freshly painted nails nervously fiddling with the strap of his purse. The girls were on a mission, darting from store to store as if building the wardrobe of their dreams. For Tom, it was more like a nightmare.

“Oh, this is perfect! Try it on!” Kat exclaimed, holding up a knee-length pencil skirt paired with a fitted blouse. “It’s such a cute office look. Imagine you sitting at a desk, typing away in this!”

Tom reluctantly shuffled into the dressing room, his cheeks burning as he glanced at the pile of skirts, dresses, and high heels they’d already made him model. Each time he stepped out, Kat and Lucy would giggle or give him overly dramatic “advice” on how to stand, pose, or smile.

“Turn a little. Chin up! Oh, Gabi, you’re such a natural,” Lucy teased, snapping photo after photo. When they approved of an outfit, they gleefully added it to the growing pile of purchases—each one swiped onto Tom’s own credit card. As much as he wanted to protest, he knew better than to argue. Instead, he bit his lip and endured their constant stream of comments.

“Gabi, sweetie, you’re really going to need this dress. Every girl needs a little black dress for date night!” Kat winked, dangling a tight, backless number in front of him. “Who knows? Maybe your first date is just around the corner!” The girls laughed as Tom turned bright red, muttering a soft, “Y-yes, Miss Kat.”

But the worst was yet to come.

After a whirlwind of dresses, skirts, and blouses, Kat turned toward a pastel-colored storefront that sent a chill down Tom’s spine. The display mannequins wore lace bras, delicate panties, and garters. “Oh, absolutely,” Lucy grinned. “No wardrobe is complete without lingerie. Let’s go!”

“N-no, please,” Tom stammered, trying to step back, but Kat was already pulling him toward the entrance. Inside, the girls wasted no time picking out the most humiliating pieces they could find. Tom’s arms were soon filled with lacy bras, satin panties, and even a sheer babydoll slip. The saleswoman didn’t bat an eye, treating “Gabi” like just another shy young woman shopping with friends.

“Go try these on,” Lucy instructed, shoving Tom toward the fitting rooms. Tom hesitated, staring at the delicate lace bra and matching panties in his trembling hands. His stomach churned as he stepped into the panties, pulling them up over his hips, the cool satin brushing against his skin. As he adjusted the bra straps over his shoulders, he caught sight of himself in the mirror. The lace clung tightly to his body, but his chastity cage created an unmistakable bulge beneath the sheer fabric.

“Gabi!” Lucy’s voice rang out, impatient and sing-song. “Come on, we don’t have all day. Let us see!”

Tom froze, his hands gripping the sides of the fitting room door as he tried to steel himself. “I-I can’t,” he stammered, his voice barely audible.

Kat sighed dramatically. “Oh, don’t be such a baby. Step out here, or do you want us to tell the whole store there’s a little sissy playing dress-up in the fitting rooms?”

Tom’s stomach twisted. He knew they weren’t bluffing. With a trembling hand, he reached for the door handle, every fiber of his being screaming at him not to do this. Reluctantly, he stepped out, his arms quickly folding tightly across his chest as if that could somehow shield him from the humiliation.

The moment Kat and Lucy saw him, they burst into laughter. “Oh my God, look at her!” Kat gasped, barely able to contain herself.

“Turn around,” Lucy demanded, already snapping photos. Tom’s face burned as he obeyed, the lace clinging awkwardly to his frame. His chastity cage was impossible to miss beneath the sheer fabric, drawing another round of giggles from the girls.

“Perfect,” Lucy smirked, taking another picture. “Go change, Gabi. We’ve got more shopping to do.”

The humiliation didn’t end there. They moved from store to store, making Tom try on clothes for every occasion: casual sundresses for errands, elegant gowns for formal events, even workout gear complete with sports bras and leggings. With each stop, the bags in Tom’s hands grew heavier, and his spirit sank lower.

By the time they reached the final store, Tom’s legs ached from hours of tottering around in heels. Kat handed him one last outfit—a pleated black skirt, fishnet tights, a crisp white blouse with a lace collar, and matching stiletto heels. “Try this on. You’re wearing it out,” she ordered with a smirk.

Minutes later, Tom emerged, the new outfit clinging perfectly to his frame. The pleated skirt swished lightly against his tights with every step, while the tightness of the nylon fabric pressed against his chastity cage, creating an uncomfortable, constant reminder of his predicament.

As he approached the register, the cashier smiled warmly, glancing at the name on the credit card Tom handed over. “Oh, is this your husband’s card?” she asked, her tone curious.

Tom’s heart raced as he struggled to respond. “Y-yes,” he stammered, his voice barely audible.

The cashier grinned. “Wow, you’re so lucky. I wish my man would spoil me like this!” Kat and Lucy burst into laughter, while Tom could only nod weakly, wishing the floor would swallow him whole.

Outside the store, the girls strutted confidently, Tom trailing behind with bags hanging off his arms and his new stiletto heels clicking loudly against the pavement. “Well, Gabi,” Kat began, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. “Aren’t you so excited to have your own clothes now? No more borrowing Emily’s, hmm?”

Tom hesitated, the humiliation still fresh, but one glance at Lucy’s expectant gaze made him sigh. “Y-yes, Miss Kat. I’m… so grateful for the clothes… and the makeover.” Kat grinned, slinging an arm around Tom’s shoulders. “Good girl. Let’s get you home.”