Chapter III - Sylvia's Friday
At 7:00 the next morning I pounded on the bedroom door. I heard Sylvia answer fuzzily.
"Get up sleepyhead! Breakfast in thirty minutes - ready or not!"
She was ready in twenty nine minutes. We went to the cafe in the lobby for bacon and eggs. At 8:30 I bundled her in to a taxi and we went across town to a huge shopping mall. I took her straight to Victoria's Secrets.
It was early and one of the sales girls was not busy. I took Sylvia over to her and said, "My wife needs new underwear. She needs at least five matching sets of lingerie, at least one garter belt, stockings to go with it, and perhaps a bustier. Now, colours for the lingerie... " I walked over to a rack with a number of panty and bra sets. "Black, yes, one definitely black, red, white - and this peach is nice. That leaves one more for you to pick! Oh, some night wear might be useful too."
The sales girl asked Sylvia her size. Sylvia blushed and mumbled a response. The girl looked puzzled.
"Make sure it fits properly!" I said to the girl. "Not too loose, not too tight! Try everything on!"
The girl picked out a couple of sets and handed them to Sylvia. "Take these into that change room and try them on. I will get a couple more and we can see how they fit."
Sylvia started for the change room. She was blushing furiously. I grabbed the sales girl's arm and whispered intently in her ear, "Make sure she wears the new clothes out. There is a tip for you if you can put her old bra and panties in the garbage!"
An hour later we left the store. Sylvia was still blushing. I had a large shopping bag in my hand and had seen the sales girl drop two items of clothing in the garbage.
Next we went to a selection of clothing stores. I gave Sylvia a shopping list. Three skirts no longer than knee length, 3 blouses with buttons up the front, one cocktail dress - again with buttons - and one evening gown. As well as the necessary accessories. Along the way her old sweatshirt ended up in the garbage as did her old baggy jeans. The transformation was amazing. Sylvia had been hiding a delightful pair of breasts that looked to be a B cup and a form that had curves in all the right places. The blouse she was wearing was tight enough to highlight those curves, and the skirt displayed her calves to great effect.
I was beginning to look like a pack horse with all the bags I was dragging.
Shoes were the final stop. Three pair, ones for walking, ones for lounging, and ones with heels to match the ball gown. I carefully picked a store where a young man was stacking boxes on a table. I told Sylvia what to get and sent her in by herself. I stood outside and watched through the window.
The young man accosted her as she entered. After a short discussion and some discussion of the shoes on display, he went off to get a measuring tool. It was fun to watch. The young fellow knelt at her feet and measured one foot. Sylvia was trying very hard to maintain her dignity, but with a skirt she wasn't used to, her knees kept parting. He would look up at her occasionally and say something, then bend down to measure again. Finally he got up and went off to get some shoes.
I smiled through the window at her and she blushed again.
The young man returned with a stack of boxes. He carefully tried a number of pairs. Occasionally he would glance up at Sylvia's skirt. They had set aside two pair and were trying on a third with heels when Sylvia looked up at me, took a deep breath and smiled as she opened her knees before reaching down to feel how the shoe fit. The young man was caught like a deer in the headlights, looking up her skirt. Eventually she stood and took the third pair.
I entered the store and took out my credit card to pay for the shoes. Sylvia was still blushing and the young man was stammering and looking everywhere but at me as he rang up the sale.
We went for lunch in small cafe in the mall. Sylvia was quite excited about all her new clothing and the whole shopping experience. She blushed as she told me how the sales girl at Victoria's Secrets had held her breasts to test the fit of the bras. She blushed again as I told her that the shoe store clerk was probably hiding in a washroom masturbating at the sight of her new panties.
"I don't know what came over me," she said, "he was trying so hard to look that I just had to show him."
"And you did. Now, do me a small favour?"
"What?" she said timidly.
"Undo the top two buttons on your blouse."
"I ca..." she started, "I shouldn't..." She looked down at herself for a moment and then reached her hands up to her neck and undid the two buttons.
I reached over and dropped a small jewellery box in front of her. "A present."