Paradise Isle, Perfect Wife Pt. 07

(Fetish, Modification, Chasti-Permalock) Challenges, work and life.

By ChangeYourPassword

Author's Note: This is a work of fiction. It is a story of sexual fantasies and fetishes. These sexual practices are not for everyone, but those of us who delve into them understand the allure. The characters in the story certainly do. If you enjoy this story and the fetishes involved, great. If not, please forget the whole thing.

Read the previous parts of Perfect Wife, first.

I don't often continue with a Paradise Isle tale once the central characters complete their stay. I ask the readers to imagine life afterwards for themselves. But in this case, I decided to provide some view into Reagan's life, at home. Enjoy...

Reagan had dedicated a lot of thought into how she'd handle her return to the office. Many hours on the island, while she laid around on the patio, sunning, out on the beach under a cabana and during the long flight home.

For the big event, she wore the most conservative, maroon dress in her closet, along with tall spike-heeled pumps. She'd found stockings that were tall enough that their tops were only just barely visible below the hem of her skirt. But whenever she sat down, all bets were off...

She looked good, ready for a party night out, but not for a work-day in the office.

Karter gave her a big hug and kiss as she was heading out the door. "Good luck, my love. Knock 'em dead."

She giggled. "That's what I'm afraid of. Some of the execs are kind of old. They just might go into cardiac arrest when they see me."

He laughed. "Then they'll die happy, and aroused."

Parking in the underground garage beneath the high-rise building that housed the company, she took several minutes to prepare herself, before getting out and heading up.

When a guy in another isle, walked into a pillar and damn near knocked himself out, while staring at her, it made her laugh, and it helped her attitude, considerably.

Instead of taking the elevator up to the sales department's floor and her office, she went straight to the Human Resources department, and to the door of the Vice President in charge. Her door was supposedly always open to the employees.

The woman, Carla, was sitting behind her desk, shuffling paperwork, and not tied up with anyone else, so Reagan knocked and was invited in.

Carla looked up, and was clearly startled, but only for a moment. "Hi, You're Reagan, right? I remember you won a top sales award, last year," she said, pleasantly.

"Yes, I did," Reagan replied, smiling. "And we've met several other times at company events and parties."

"I remember. What can I do for you, Reagan? Please have a seat."

Reagan smiled, and sat as demurely as she could in the visitor's chair in front of Carla's desk. Of course, as she did, her short skirt revealed her stocking tops, but not quite any bare thigh.

As Reagan watched, she could see the woman was unsettled by the view.

"I just came back from a wonderful Caribbean vacation with my husband. It was really eye opening."

"I can see from your tan."

Reagan nodded. "While there, I came to the conclusion that my work-life balance is unsustainable. That I need to add more spice to my life on both sides of the divide.

"And part of my change in attitude includes a change in wardrobe."

"I can see that too. You're not really dressed in normal business attire."

"Too feminine?" Reagan asked, smiling engagingly. But she knew what was coming.

"Too sexy." Carla replied, being honest.

"Oh? I don't mean to be argumentative. But how do you define, 'too sexy'? Because to me this is attractive, stylish and feminine."

Before the woman could reply, Reagan continued. "Carla, I'm sorry, but I don't see how my dressing like this will affect my work or my performance. The company pays me for my knowledge, experience and success at selling our products and services. Do you really think this will hinder my sales efforts?

"Personally, I'm certain that my customers, mostly men by the way, will enjoy working with me even more than in the past.

"Please be honest and not PC. Don't you agree?"

Carla actually chuckled. "Reagan, I can't disagree with anything you said. But I'm worried about what your managers will think, and how your colleagues, who are mostly male themselves, will react.

"I'm afraid they'll be distracted."

Reagan shrugged. "That's their problem. And I think Jerry, my boss will accept me for what I am, a very successful salesperson on his team.'

She paused for a moment to let that sink in, then added, "I don't think it says anything forbidding us from being pretty and alluring in the employee's manual."

Carla nodded, and sat quietly for a few minutes, mulling things over. The woman was right. There was nothing in the recently adjusted employee rules that mentioned sexually alluring attire. Hell, the new wording allowed almost anything to support cultural diversity and the myriad range of sexual orientations. How could she forbid 'pretty and sexy'?

"You intend to dress along those lines from now on?" she asked, quietly. She was still thinking. Her question was little more than a stalling tactic.

"Yes, as I mentioned, I've decided I need a life change, and that includes a change of look and wardrobe. It will make me feel better, and help me maintain a happy marriage as well."

"I'm sure. Your hair does look gorgeous." Carla replied, casually.

"Thank you."

Carla then again returned to her ruminations while Reagan sat quietly, understanding the HR woman's need to think the situation through. She intended to bring up legal aspects, if the HR boss, didn't make the right choice. Hell, the company allowed weird hairstyles, tattoos, piercings and various 'cultural' attire. Why not sexy looks and clothes?

She had no idea that she and Carla were on the same track...

Finally, the woman came to a decision. She smiled, and nodded. "Reagan, we have allowed our employees to dress as they wished, and make any personal statement they wished, as long as it didn't offend our customers, or impact our operations.

"Frankly, I find some of the things we've allowed distasteful, but I don't see your attire to be grossly out of line with any normal standard. And, honestly, I agree that it may prove to be an advantage in your work.

"You do look attractive."

"Thank you, Can I go to work now?" she said, as she prepared to stand.

"Of course. And if anyone complains, please direct them to me.

"But, please try not to incite any sexual harassment. I understand that any incident along those lines would be the fault of the attacker, but it would hurt the company, and that I can't condone."

"I understand, and thank you for your understanding and support." Reagan said, as she stood and headed for the door. She did appreciate Carla's point. If she were raped by some a-hole, there in her office. Everyone would be hurt.

++++++++++

After that fairly successful meeting, rather than go directly up to her office, Reagan went back down to the little lobby coffee shop, where she usually started off her workday.

The always friendly barista, Daryl, almost dropped the cup for his customer when he saw her. As a regular, they knew each other fairly well.

She giggled when she saw his reaction.

"Reagan, is that you? You look so beautiful."

"Hi, Daryl. Yes, it's me. Just back from vacation and felling the need for a little change."

"More than a little. You look good enough to eat!"

"Hey, careful there!" she laughed, delightedly. She liked the guy and they often got a little raunchy, but he was pushing the envelope, especially with other people around.

Realizing his mistake, he blushed.

"Um, sorry. But you do look hot."

"Thank you. That's the idea," she said, giggling.

A couple minutes later, he handed over her drink. "On the house." He said, waving off her proffered credit card.

"Why thank you, kind sir," she replied, smiling brightly.

"My pleasure, beautiful."

As far as she knew, he'd never given away a drink like that. He was known as tight-fisted by everyone.

Her new look was already returning dividends...

+++++++++++++

As soon as the elevator opened onto her department's floor, Reagan felt all eyes upon her. She was used to the looks and stares, so she easily ignored them, walking confidently to her office.

It was a little odd, though. Even her teammates remained quiet as she walked past them.

But her two best friends immediately got up from their desks and followed her to her office. There, she had to fumble out the keys to her door. She usually didn't bother locking it, but she'd secured it while she had been gone for her extended vacation.

Inside, she dropped her bag and flopped down in her chair, hiding her bare thighs and her shoes under the desk.

When she looked up Annette and Billie were standing there, seemingly dumbfounded.

Reagan smiled at the sight. "I'll explain later. Our usual lunch at Chen's?" she said as she waved them out the door. She had a ton of paperwork and probably a thousand emails in her inbox to slog through.

Her friends didn't immediately back out. They still stood there gaping like folks at the zoo.

Regan understood. Her huge chest, covered only by her blouse was still on display, and she could see her girlfriends staring at them.

But, why weren't they examining her new hair? she asked herself. But she knew why. It was the same with everyone. Big breasts demanded attention, from everyone.

Finally, realizing they were being silly, the pair agreed to a lunch meeting and headed back to their desks, leaving her to get to work.

Reagan spent the morning catching up. Her email backlog was indeed massive, and there were dozens of voice mails she needed to review, and respond to.

Thankfully she had blocked her calendar so there were no meetings either in-house or at clients' offices she had to attend. Those chores would start up tomorrow.

She did nervously watch as the clock crept toward lunch hour. She wasn't looking forward to explaining her new self to her closest friends. That would probably be the toughest part of her whole office ordeal.

A few minutes before noon, Billie and Annette came in and without a word, she shut down her computer and they headed out.

"I'll explain. Be patient." She mumbled as they boarded the elevator.

Her friends accepted her promise, but she could tell they were dying to know what she was up to.

The three of them walked down to the Chinese restaurant they favored for simple lunches. Along the way, Regan got all the looks, and even a couple wolf-whistles.

"Doesn't that bother you?"

"Nope. Actually, I kind of enjoy it. They want me, but they can't have me."

At that, both her friends glanced at her, surprised and confused.

After they'd ordered their meals, her friends refused to wait any longer. "Okay, who are you, and what have you done with our friend Reagan?" Billie asked, not actually trying to be funny.

"Yes, what's going on? What's come over you?" Annette chimed in.

Reagan sighed, and dove into her prepared explanation. "Well, our vacation was fantastic. I've never had so much fun.

"That place was a fantastically sexy resort island and Karter and I had a great time. But it got me thinking. I decided that I needed a change. A big one. A complete 'turn over a new leaf and be a different girl' kind of thing. So, I decided to go all out."

"But you look so sexy."

"Slutty, you mean?" Reagan replied, giggling."

"Well, now that you mention it..."

"That's what I decided to go with, and Karter, by the way loves it. It's revitalized our marriage. We spent our days and nights screwing like rabbits." She winked and laughed.

Her girlfriends remained confused. "And you had some, ah, procedures?"

"Yes. Breasts and hair. They did wonders. Used some special nanite things."

"Big breasts." Billie said. She didn't seem at all put off. In fact, Reagan thought her friend was envious.

"Yes, I may have gone a little overboard there, but damn they're fun."

"It wasn't Karter's idea?" Annette asked, she apparently wasn't a fan.

"Well, he certainly didn't try and dissuade me. The changes, and my new wardrobe have certainly made him very happy.

"Both of us are happy."

Annette snorted, "along with every dirty old man in town."

Reagan shook her head, sadly. "Yes, and some have been pricks about it, But, believe it or not I feel empowered. I control them, they don't control me. They want me, but can't have me."

That surprised them, and they both sat quietly for a few minutes while they thought through what she'd just said.

"But is the company okay with your new look?" Annette asked.

"Well, what can they do? They can't very well penalize me for being fashionably sexy. Not after they accept all the new woke crap from the vocal minorities.

"And like you pointed out the men all want me. And if they fire me, they certainly won't get me."

Billie laughed. She was starting to understand.

"So, you intend to dress this way from now on? This sexy?"

"I do. I like it and Karter loves it. It's helping our marriage. I'm no longer just another modern-day career woman."

They were walking back to the office, when Annette just had to ask. "Reagan, your breasts are so big. Why?"

Billie chuckled. "They're huge! And you're not wearing a bra either, are you?"

Reagan giggled. "I always wanted bigger breasts. I've been jealous of bustier girls since I was a teen. They always seem to get all the attention."

"You're right about that." Billie said. Her own breasts were average, at best, and she too had always dreamed of having a larger rack.

Reagan laughed. "Karter adores them, and they made them nice and firm, so I don't need any support."

"But they move around so, beneath your top." Annette said. She thought her friend's massive, unfettered chest was just too slutty. She would never go out without a bra.

"I'm used to it."

Annette couldn't understand how her girlfriend could change so. Become such a slut.

"Are you sure it wasn't Karter's doing?" she prompted, still confused. "Did he push you into it?"

"No, Reagan replied, shaking her head. "I wanted them. He did sign me up for the hair, and these daggers." She replied while holding up a hand and waving her fingers and their long colorful nails.

"Well, your hair is gorgeous. So full and long. It's not just extensions?" Billie asked.

"No, it's real. They do magic down there."

"Hmm, I just might have to visit that place."

"You'd love it." Reagan replied. Billie was much more adventurous and into sex and fun, than Annette, who could at times be quite a prude.

Back in the office, Annette headed to her desk, while Reagan, followed by Billie went into the ladies' room.

While they were washing their hands, Billie turned to her. "I like the way you look. You're sexy as hell."

Reagan smiled.

She was surprised though when her friend leaned over and gave her a kiss, on the mouth.

"You turn me on." She mumbled as she headed out the door, leaving a stunned Reagan behind.

I'll be damned, she thought. I never knew...

+++++++++++

Regan's first week back in the office was, as expected, difficult. She learned a lot about the people in the company. Particularly the males.

She easily identified, the dirty old men, the filthy young men, the prudes and the lesbians. Regardless though, she treated all of them with professional courtesy, and always made it clear that she remained a happily married woman with a loving husband- the perfect wife.

She also found that she had a lot more visitors, mostly men, casually stopping by to talk, or waylaying her in the hallway to chat and ogle her.

It was bothersome, but fun nonetheless. She'd never been this popular, ever.

Despite the distractions, she fell back into her normal business routine and resumed her career, making money for the company and through them, for herself.

+++++++++++

On her fourth day back, the elevator from the parking garage up to the company's floors was crowded. She slipped on early and was in the second row of passengers from the back. As soon as the doors closed, she felt a gentle hand on her ass. At first, she thought it was a casual mistake but as the elevator started its slow climb the contact got more intense and even began sliding down towards the short hem of her skirt.

Damn!

She knew from a glance when she'd boarded that it was a guy behind her now. A good-looking guy, but also obviously a creep.

She had prepared herself for jerks like him, so instead of saying something and making a scene, she actually shuffled back into him. Probably giving him a thrill.

She carefully positioned herself until she felt her right ass cheek in contact with his left thigh. Then with her arm down straight at her side, she reached back with her right hand and took hold of his crotch.

She heard him grunt at the touch. She hoped that he was expecting something good.

But instead of massaging his growing hard-on, she gripped his balls and began squeezing.

Now it was his turn to make a decision. He could say something and make a scene or keep quiet and suffer.

He apparently decided to keep quiet, but she did think she heard him squeak like a baby mouse. He reached down and tried to push her hand aside. But when he did, she squeezed harder and applied her dagger nails to the thing in her grip.

He immediately jumped, moved his hand away, and let out a much louder squeal.

Several people around them glanced his way, but they were all looking at his face. They couldn't see her hand and its vicelike grip.

As he kept quiet, the audience soon lost interest and returned to their elevator trance, staring at the doors and flashing lights at the front of the car. There, the doors were just opening to disgorge the first group of passengers.

Reagan didn't move, and neither did the jerk. He couldn't without leaving his balls behind in her fist.

After the doors closed, and the car began climbing again, he leaned down a bit and whispered, "please" in her ear.

She didn't acknowledge his begging. She actually hummed a happy little tune, as if to herself, while maintaining her hold. Smiling contentedly, she actually applied a little more pressure, digging in her nails for added effect. They were coming in handy.

The slob moaned, again drawing unwanted attention to himself.

Reagan couldn't see his face, but she could picture him turning red, closing his eyes in anguish. And she treasured the image.

Finally, the elevator stopped at her floor. As the doors opened and the people in front of her moved out or away, she released her hold on his family jewels, and turned to look at him.

"I'd be happy to do that again, the next time we meet." She said smiling angelically, as he was still sighing in relief, and reaching for his aching crotch.

He didn't say a word. He barely even looked at her.

She chuckled and exited, resuming her cheery humming.

As she walked down the hallway to her office, she was actually thinking that it might be fun to see that clown again. To see if he was up for a repeat performance. That made her laugh.

Events like that interrupted her return to a normal every-day work rhythm. Occasionally, rarely, they were fun, but otherwise they were just hassles not worth remembering.

Otherwise, her days were filled with the same workload as before her conversion. They did seem to go a little better, though.

Pretty much all of the men she worked with treated her better than ever before. Instead of being condescending of overbearing, they tended to be attentive and supportive. She knew it was only because of her looks, particularly her breasts, but no matter. It made her life better, and her career more successful.