“Hey Sasha, ready to go to church?” asked Tara.

Sasha noticed the gleam in Tara’s eye and the much more obvious glowing ball in her hand.  “As a dress?  Won’t your mother complain?”

“She spent three days as lingerie for Trish last week.  She said it’d be hypocritical not to let you be ‘whatever you want to be’.”

“Cool.  Just let me dress up a bit, and bring a spare outfit.”

Tara grinned.  “Don’t want to miss out on Mom’s cooking?”

“You know it.”

*** *** ***

When they got back to Tara’s parents’ place, it wasn’t long before Trish reappeared.  Tara grinned to see her father’s female form.  “Are you always Trish at home?”

“Most of the time.  Especially after last week, that was... woof.”  Trish glanced over at her wife.  “Are you really sure you were okay with all of that?”

Mrs. Stark smirked at her husband, and she put her hand in Trish’s.  “If we didn’t have guests, I’d already be fluttering to the floor.”

Tara grinned at her mother.  “You’re almost as keen as Sasha.  Which reminds me, I’ll be back in a tick...”

Sasha strolled out of the bathroom before Tara did.  “She’ll be dressed in a bit.”

Carla smiled at Sasha.  “Oh!  You were her dress at church?”

Sasha nodded.  “Tara wanted an extra pretty dress, and I do so enjoy being swishy.”

Tara snuggled up behind Sasha, hugging her tight.  “You make the best dresses.”

Carla’s hand went to her chest.  “Do you think... do you think Kat is having that much fun?”

Tara looked her new sister over.  “I’m sure of it.  But are you?  How much time have you spent female this week?”

“All of it.  And wearing her most of the time.  I’ve... yet to make good on her fantasy, but...”  Carla blushed, and looked away.  “Getting close.”

Tara smiled.  “Good.  I hope it appreciates what you’re doing for it.”

Carla stuck her tongue out at her sister.  “She will be human again one day.”

“Are you sure?” teased Tara.  “If you wore it to church, you must be pretty serious.”

“I am!  I’m warming up to the whole ‘being a girl’ thing, but I want...”  Carla looked away.  “I miss holding her.”

“You could always find a nice sexy guy to take over that role,” suggested Tara with a broad grin.

Carla’s blush turned beet red.  “I... might have.”

“Oh dear.  What will your swimsuit think?”

“He’s, um... pre-approved.  On a condition I do not want to speak aloud.”

Tara smirked.  “I can guess.”

“Don’t.  Please?”

Mrs. Stark studied her daughters.  “Something I need to know?”

“No!”

She chuckled.  “Fair enough then.  Since you’re both girls today, come help me with lunch.”

“We’re all girls here,” said Trish with a very feminine giggle.

“You can keep our guest company.  Perhaps a nice little walk around the neighbourhood?”

“I’d rather stay in...” started Trish, but then she saw her wife’s expression.  “The weather is quite lovely.  Sasha?”

“I’d be delighted.”

Once Trish and Sasha had left, the three women started work in the kitchen.  There was comparatively little to do, as Mrs. Stark had prepared most of what was needed ahead of time.  They finished up quickly.

Tara leaned back against the counter.  “You obviously didn’t need our help, so what’s really up?”

“I need advice, and both of you seem well suited to it.”

Tara raised her eyebrows.  “You need advice from us?”

“But you’re Mom!  You’re the one that gives all the good advice,” protested Carla.

“And you two have more experience with being worn.”

“Ah.  That.”  Tara eyed her mother.  “Do you need a different outfit in the watch?”

“I... kind of want to get rid of that setting entirely.  The last week was fun, yes, but...  Deeply unfulfilling on a level that I don’t know how to explain to your father.  There is more to life than that.”

Tara nodded slowly.  “Yeah.  Cuddles with and as a real person are better than being worn, no question.  Do you get enough cuddles from Trish?”

“I...”  Tara’s mother looked away.  “It’s not like it used to be.  Trish is super cuddly, don’t get me wrong, but I miss Terry-cuddles.  Something about the muscles...”

Tara sighed and rolled her eyes.  “Everyone’s always on about the muscles.”  She flexed an arm.  “Would it help if Trish was this buff?”

Mrs. Stark studied her daughter closely, and Tara continued to flex as if she was on the stage of a body-building contest.  “I’m not sure.  Do you think she’d mind if I asked?”

“You definitely should ask,” said Carla.  “Kat taught me that much, by... well, demanding, more than asking, but she made herself crystal clear.  My swimsuit very much wants what it wants.”

Tara nodded emphatically.  “It’s okay to want things.  Even weird and potentially creepy things.  If you’re not open to the possibility they might say no, you’ll never hear ‘yes’.  I bet Dad would do just about anything you ask, as long as she gets her turn as well.  And there may be things Dad won’t do, and that’s okay as well.  But you have to talk.”

Mrs. Strong looked uncertain, but agreed.  As they moved the food to the table, their discussions turned to lighter topics, notably Carla’s new job.  She chattered excitedly about it, she was working for a little surf shop near the beach, and encouraged to wear her swimsuit as her “work clothes”, though she usually wore a shop T-shirt over it as well.

“He’s got this cool toy,” gushed Carla.  “It can turn anything into a surfboard, and let you customize the design somewhat.  Only lasts until sundown, which is perfect.”

“Anything?” asked Tara.  “Even people?”

Carla giggled and nodded.  “I let him use it on me yesterday, just before we closed.  So much fun.  You can see everything, and feel the way you cut through the waves.  Blaine says it’s a great way to teach people how to surf, too.  I don’t know about that, but I’m game to try.”

“And how do you think Kat will feel about you spending time with a sexy surfer dude?” asked Tara.

Carla blushed, and shook her head.  “Not a problem.”

Tara’s eyes widened.  “Oooh.  Kinky.”

“Do I want to know?” asked their mother.

“Probably not.  You didn’t sound keen on the idea, despite earlier comments.”

Mrs. Stark’s eyes went wide.  “Oh!  I see.  Well.  It’s not that I didn’t like it, that part was... pleasant enough.”

Tara snickered.  “Damning with faint praise?”

“There’s more to life than sex.  And more to sex than pleasure.”

“I... yeah, that’s true enough,” agreed Tara.  “Love matters more.  And both Rachel and I aren’t happy without something to strive and test ourselves against.  Carla?”

Carla shrugged.  “You and Gary have always been more driven than me.  I’m just glad I have a job I enjoy, for once.  I’d like to keep at it for a while.”

“Even if that means wearing Kat the entire time?”

“I’m getting used to that part.  Hard not to, there’s something about it that lets me know my swimsuit is happy as it is.”

“Is happiness enough?” asked Mrs. Stark.

Carla shrugged again.  “Maybe not.  But it’s a pretty good guideline.  It’s happy, I’m happy.  I don’t want to overthink it and spoil it.”

“Is that what I’ve been doing?  I mean, I did enjoy last week, but...”

“Ma, it’s fine.  You want something more, and we’ll help you talk to Dad about it. Okay?”

Mrs. Stark nodded reluctantly.

They didn’t bring the topic up at lunch, everyone was too busy eating.  After all the dishes had been cleared away, Tara led the three Stark women into the sitting room where Trish and Sasha were deep in an hushed, animated conversation.  Trish looked up and smiled at her wife.  “We need to talk, Arlene.”

Tara glanced at Sasha, and shared a grin.  “I think you do indeed.  Mom, why don’t you go first?”  She took her mother’s hand, and pulled her forward to stand beside Tara.

Arlene studied her husband for a moment.  “First, I had fun this week.  Being your lingerie felt wonderful.  The whole thing with Kirk... not so much.  I know I suggested it, but... I don’t want to do that again.”

“Oh thank goodness,” Trish said as the tension went out of her posture.  “Did you know that we didn’t actually...”

“No, really?  But...”

“I thought you wanted it, so we kind of faked it.  That was a toy, not his actual...  And you seemed so happy even just now, wanting to flutter to the floor.”

Arlene bit her lip.  “I do like that part.  Especially when you pick me up.  See... that’s the part I really miss.  My big strong husband who can scoop me up in his arms.”

“I thought maybe we could make you a little more muscular...” started Tara.

Trish shook her head emphatically.  “No.  I can’t.  I’m sorry, I just... this is Trish now, to me.  Changing her won’t work.”

“But...”

“No.”

“All I want is to be held in the arms of my strong husband again,” sniffed Arlene.  “You won’t even do that?”

Trish shook her head.  “We’ve tried that.  You know what happens.”

Tara looked back and forth between her parents.  “What?”

Arlene ducked her head.  “He doesn’t like it, I can tell.”  A wry smile twisted her lips.  “I remember it all too well, when you stopped liking Mommy hugs, Carl.  Carla, sorry.”

Carla stepped to her mother and hugged her tight.  “Oh, Ma.  I was a stupid kid, okay?  It’s not the same thing.”

Arlene wiped away a tear.  “It’s almost exactly the same, the way I can feel he’s uncomfortable in the hug, even when he holds still.  It’s not fair.”

“I am sorry, love,” said Trish softly.  “I truly am.  It’s just that... this is the right body now.”

Tara nodded.  “I’m not the same, but... yeah, I can kind of understand.  Some shapes work, some don’t.  I don’t want you to feel guilty about finding the right shape.”

“But Mom still needs...”  Carla stopped, then grinned.  “We can’t change Dad.  But you don’t mind changes, do you?”

Arlene shook her head.  “What do you have in mind?”

“Same as usual, just... say about four feet tall.  Light enough that Trish can sweep you off your feet.”

“I can do that to her, sure,” enthused Sasha.  “Where’s the ball?”

Tara pulled it out of her purse, then looked to her mother.  “Would it make you happy?”

Arlene smiled uncertainly.  “I don’t know.  But it sounds like fun.  Can I be young and cute, too?  About Trish’s age.”

Sasha nodded.  “I can do that.”  She glanced over to Trish.  “Would you like to see your wife like that?”

Trish stroked her chin as she imagined the scene.  “I’m not sure.  But it isn’t my call.  I think Arlene should be whatever makes her happy.”

Tara tossed the ball to Sasha.  “Good enough for me.  You’ve got the best eye for this, make it good.”

Sasha started to squeeze.  “I’ll make her fantastic.”  Once she had a good solid glow worked up, she lobbed the ball at Tara’s mother.  The transformation was nearly instantaneous.  Where once there was a woman with graying hair, instead there was a much shorter sylph-like beauty with veined dragonfly wings fluttering at her back.

“Too much?” asked Sasha into the stunned silence.

Arlene craned her neck to look at the wings, then spread them out and fluttered them.  “Oh my gosh I have wings!  They’re beautiful!”

Trish bounced to her feet and approached her wife.  “How remarkable.  I could never have imagined this and yet...”  She scooped Arelene up and spun her about, wings fluttering madly.

Arlene sighed happily in her husband’s arms.  “Thank you.”

After another spin, Trish set Arlene gently on her feet.  “Happy?”

“Oh yes.  But... are you?  Can this work?”  She studied her husband’s face intently, looking up at it from below.

Trish smiled down at her.  “I like this new you.  I just have one question.”

“Yes?”

“Can you fly?”

Arlene gave it her best shot, but the wing to weight ratio was not in her favour.  Carla suggested a smaller version might be able to pull it off.  Sasha smirkingly added that about ten inches tall would be perfect, especially if she were light and extra durable.  “Just in case she crashes.”

Arlene quickly saved her form in her watch, then took it off again so that Sasha could retrieve the charge from her.  As she surged back to her usual height, she studied Trish’ reaction.  “Well?”

“Short and fey is a good look for you.”

“I’m going to need a new wardrobe.”

“Not it!” called Sasha, drawing a laugh from Tara and Carla, and some odd looks and belated smiles from their parents.

After the laughs had died down, Sasha started squeezing the magic ball again.  “Ready to be a toy fairy?”

Arlene nodded solemnly, but her eyes started to sparkle the moment she began to dwindle.  And dwindle.  Soon she was staring up at giants all around her, and looking more than a little nervous.

Sasha crouched near her.  “Don’t fret.  You should be tough enough to be safe, and able to fly.  Try it!”

Arlene fluttered her wings and tottered into the air.  As she started to get used to it, a huge grin nearly split her face.

Sasha and Tara saw themselves out while Tara’s mother was still getting used to her wings.

“Think she’ll be okay?” asked Tara as they climbed into her car.

Sasha nodded.  “Oh yeah.  She can use her watch to switch things around, she’ll be fine.”

“Are you fine?”

Sasha looked puzzled.  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I just... the whole turning you into clothing thing.  Mom said things I’ve been feeling for a while.  It’s fun but... in limited doses.  But you’re stuck with it.”

“First,” Sasha said, holding up a finger.  “I’m not stuck.  You’ve offered to get me out of my 442 more times than I recall.  You’d let me go for the asking.  Two,” she held up another finger, “I love being worn by you.”  She held up another finger.  “Three, I love being owned by you. Like seriously love it to bits, ten out of ten would give myself to you again if you freed me.”

Sasha opened her hand fully.  “And most of all, I wasn’t happy with my life.  Like, at all.  I’d considered just ending it more than once.  These past few months have been beyond amazing.  I am so happy with our arrangement, I wish I could convince you of it.  What can I do to prove it?”

Tara blushed.  “You don’t...”

“Yes.  I do.  That thing that’s making you blush?  We’re doing it the moment we get home.  Drive!”

“Yes’m.”

*** *** ***

“Why are we at the grocery store?” asked Sasha.

“Because it was on the way, and we’re going to need food for the week.”

Sasha narrowed her eyes at Tara.  “This is part of it.”

“Yes.  Come on.”

Tara shopped efficiently, but had still gathered a small crowd by the time she got to the till.  Once she was done paying for groceries, she grinned.  “Been a week, hasn’t it?”

All the employees gathered around nodded.

“I’m in the market for a trophy stand.  I’ve got a bunch of them, and fully expect to get another trophy in the triathlon next month.  I need something roomy, glass and steel, but still curvy enough to make it clear it once was a human.”

“A sexy, feminine trophy stand?” breathed one of the employees, a tall gangly guy whose shirt was far too short in the sleeves.

“Yes.”

“Please?”

Tara’s grin was positively feral as she pulled the magic ball from her purse.  Then it collapsed as she noticed the ball was still grey.  “Whoops.  Um, you game to come back to our place and get changed there?  It’d save me the effort of dragging you all that way.”

“Sure!” he agreed, brightly.

They took a moment to do the separation paperwork, and were soon off to the condo.  Once inside, Tara used one of their transformed toys to recharge the orb.  She returned to the living room to find Sasha positioning her soon-to-be trophy shelf in a corner of the living room.  “What do you think, Tara?  Here?”

Tara nodded, her grin as wide as ever.  “Perfect.  Are you ready?  This is your last moment as a human.”

He smiled at her confidently.  “I know.  I want this.”

The ball flicked out, glowing brightly, and in a moment the young man was gone, fading from flesh to glass, from gangly male to curvy female.  What stood in the corner was a glass sculpture of a sexy woman, with stainless steel knobs for nipples, and subtle hinges down her side.

Tara pulled on the knobs and the seam down the sculpture’s front opened.  The doors moved silently to either side, revealing a series of nearly invisible shelves inside.  She eagerly went to her trophies on the window-ledge, and set them inside one by one.  Another touch slid the doors closed.

She studied the effect - it looked like her trophies were floating inside the glass sculpture.  “It’s perfect.  Make sure to dust her regularly.”

Sasha chuckled warmly.  “Of course, love.  She deserves no less.”

Tara scooped her up in a fierce hug.  “Thank you.”

Sasha kissed her warmly.  “I love watching you do that.”

Tara’s breathing grew ragged.  “Really?  I want to...”  She pulled Sasha even tighter against her body.

“In front of your newest creation?  How naughty,” giggled Sasha.  Moments later, her dress was in tatters.

*** *** ***

Rachel returned at dinnertime to find Sasha alone in the kitchen, wearing a frilly apron.

“Oh good,” said Sasha when she saw her.  “You’re just in time.”

Sasha served up three plates, and Rachel helped carry them to the dining table, where three places were set.  At Tara’s usual spot there was also a grey ball.  Rachel chuckled.  “The apron?”

Sasha nodded, and a quick toss led to the apron wriggling off of her and into the muscular form of a quite naked Tara.  Rachel grinned at the sight of both of them naked, but hunger won out and she sat at the table in her workout clothes.

As they ate Sasha chattered about the day they’d had.

“Pity about giving up the lingerie slot, though.  That was some fine work.”

Sasha shook her head.  “Your mom has a six slot watch.  I noticed her using slot number three, and checked the store’s website.  They only have one-slot and six-slot models.  For all her protests, she kept the lingerie.”

“Cool.”

Sasha rolled the magic ball to Tara.  “My turn.”

Tara scooped it up but didn’t squeeze it, instead staring down at the ball in her hands pensively.

“Stop that,” growled Sasha.

Tara blinked at her.  “Stop what?”

“Stop the second guessing.  Yes we are all engaged.  You two will have a lovely wedding, in which I will have the place of honour as Tara’s beautiful dress.  I will love it to bits.  I am yours, for better and for worse... but being your possession is all better.  Now turn me into something sexy.”

Tara tossed the ball at Sasha, and she gradually grew into a clone of Rachel.

“Not what I meant,” giggled Sasha in a voice that was half hers and half Rachel.  “But I can work with it.  Go get your pretty purple lingerie on, it hasn’t been worn in a week.  We’ll tidy up and meet you in the bedroom.”

Ten minutes later only one Rachel entered to find Tara artfully displayed on the bed.  Rachel was wearing a confection of rainbow-striped lace that hid nothing.

Tara giggled.  “Only Sasha could pull that look off.”

“She is nuts for you.  And being worn,” agreed Rachel.

“Then we should show her a good time.”

Rachel sashayed toward the bed, then her eyes narrowed.  “You’re not happy.  What’s wrong?”

“Change her back.”

“Why?”

“I need to know...”  Tara hesitated.

“Look at her.  Say her name.”

“Sasha.  My beautiful, sweet Sasha.”

The colours of Rachel’s lacy confection pulsed softly.  “Oh!  You can do it too?”

Sasha pinkened, then the yellow stripes pulsed brightly.

“And you’re happy?  Really, truly happy?”

A brighter yellow pulse.

Tara brushed her hands through the lace, marvelling at the swirls of pink that were left in her wake.  “Oh love.  This truly is perfect.”

Rachel purred happily.  “Are you going to play with my outfit, or me?”

“Yes.”