Roger and i moved in together so that we could stay in a nicer place than either of us could afford on our own. We were about as different as could be, though we respected each other's space and differences. He played baseball in college and worked out regularly to keep his athletic body in perfect form. He worked in sales for a huge corporation. I, on the other hand, was tiny, grew my hair out long, and worked at home as a graphic designer.
Roger was constantly bringing his dates home. At first, I'd head into my room to give him some alone time and space, but he was confident enough that he honestly didn't mind if I hung out. It turns out that I actually liked talking with the girls he brought over. It took me awhile, but I kind of figured out the type of girl he was after. One the one hand they were modern women. College students or recent grads, working and finding their way in the world. But on the other hand they were looking for an old fashioned relationship. They wanted to be something called a 'traditional wife'. Stay at home, take care of the home, raise the babies, take care of their man.
I thought it was kind of funny, but at the same time, they all liked hanging out with me. If they were over more than once or twice, they seemed to want to clean the place up. Where Rog seemed happy that they wanted to 'do their part' I felt guilty about it, so I'd lend a hand. They taught me how to properly vacuum and dust and wash the windows and clean the dishes. Julie, one of Rog's early girlfriends, even taught me the basics to cooking and left her cookbooks behind so when he was in between girlfriends I was able to whip something up for us to eat.
Roger wasn't really good with the emotional side, so I'd help him out and talk to his girlfriends about that side of his life. Let them know that his way of showing love was different than most guys. It bucked them up and helped him keep relationships going longer.
I didn't do so well on the girlfriend side myself. I'd never been a chick magnet, and now that I was spending almost all of my time home either working or helping out with Roger's girlfriends, I didn't get the chance to meet many girls. Oh sure, I had my online babes, but that wasn't quite the same.
To help me out, since I was helping him out so much, Roger got me a premium subscription to some AI dating service. It was supposed to take your strengths, make them better, learn your weaknesses, lessen them, and prep you for your ideal mate.
The first time I logged in I had to laugh at Roger's mistake. Instead of 'Alex' he had the username set up as 'Alexa'. As it was tied to the subscription, I couldn't change it, so I just dealt with it. It's just a typo after all. For the first week I'd have to spend three hours being quizzed by the AI. As much as it nagged me, I couldn't commit that much time, but I put at least 15 minutes a day into it.
At first, the AI was really generic and had no personality. But the more it went, the more it seemed to take on an attitude and characters of its own. I guess it was taking on the semblance of a girl I'd date. It didn't have a name per se, but I definitely thought of it as a she. And she was quite emphatic on certain things. Like hygine. I really didn't see any reason to shower every day. It wasn't like I was doing anything physical, but she insisted I take a shower each morning, wash my hair every other day, and wash my face every night. She even used the cameras on my phone, laptop, and tablet to 'look' at me and see if I was following her directions.
She really didn't like the five o'clock shadow I wore. I personally thought it was rugged, especially with my smooth baby like face, but she didn't and insisted I get rid of the hair. She really wanted me to take extreme action like laser hair removal, but she was at least satisfied with shaving. That is, she was satisfied with shaving if I did it all over my body. Face, chest, pits, belly, legs... even my pubes. The hardest part was the crack of my ass. I'd have complained, but this AI system was expensive and evidently had a 99% success rate so who was I to say what worked and what didn't.
The AI was really intuitive too. When Rog got back with Julie, it directed me to help her with dinner and even step up and cook more on my own. I had to make practice meals and after a couple weeks, was making breakfast every day for Roger's appraisal. I enjoyed the cooking enough that even when the AI stopped telling me to do it, I kept it up. I even made Rog a sack lunch to take in to work to save him a few bucks a day. While the AI didn't tell me to make the lunches, it evidently approved and had me add little notes to it. You know, little encouraging things to boost his morale.
When the AI said I should work on my figure, I was nervous. I really didn't want to work out. I'd never wanted to have some bulky body. But the AI insisted most of it would be through a medicinal regimen and hormonal rebalancing, and the only exercises would be stretching, and a little yoga. When it said I should join a class at a gym nearby, I figured I could just lie but evidently the premium subscription included the ability to sign up for services on its own. Two days later the gym was calling my number asking for "Alexa" to come to her scheduled classes.
We laughed it off together when I showed up the next day. They insisted they'd worked with AI systems like this before and that they were happy to help in any way it required. Their only odd insistence was that they had to follow the subscription and therefore everything about my time there was to be referred to as Alexa. My membership card, my locker, even my clothes. Instead of what most of the guys were wearing, loose shorts or sweats and tank tops, I was given what I swear were women's yoga pants. I relented and wore those but refused the obvious sport bra and instead went bare chested. My instructor seemed to think I wasn't wearing it due to confidence issues and promised she'd get me confident enough to wear anything. I mean, yeah, it was strange, but hey if it got me into better shape and not some muscle head physique, all the better right?
The next week I got my first shipment from the AI. It had ordered a complete regiment of pills, injections, and creams. They were all labeled with either numbers or letters and didn't say what they were. The AI, evidently wanting to keep things simple for me, just gave me a schedule to follow. What pills to take in the morning and evening, which injections to take on which days, and where to apply each cream. Whenever I'd question what they were, it would just insist that they were designed to make my body proper and better.
Not that any of this wasn't weird, but the weirdest one might have been the tan colored cream it had me put on my face every morning. I had to use these little sponges and it didn't ever absorb into my skin. Instead it stayed on top all day. It smoothed out any imperfections I had, and if I'm honest, made me look nice, but it took me days before I was any good at putting it on. There was another whole cream I needed to clean it off every night.
Babs, Roger's girlfriend at the time, commented on my 'flat' skin, saying that she loved my 'foundation' but that I needed some toning and color to make it look good. When I mentioned it to the AI, she said she'd help me and fix that next thing. The next morning I got another shipment. Of cosmetics. I was really hesitant at first. I mean, what guy wears makeup if he isn't on TV? But Babs was right and the daily face cream I had to wear did look really flat. So between the toner, the blush, the eye shadow, and even the lipstick, the AI taught me how to look good.
At my next gym session my trainer mentioned the obvious makeup and said it was looking good. Glad that she brought it up, I mentioned that it didn't feel quite right. That it was half feminine and half masculine. She agreed and said that she knew of a spa that could help out with that, as well as give me a relaxing day. She even said it was included in the gym membership, so I made an appointment for that afternoon.
When I got to the spa, I found out that my trainer had already set up everything for me so I just followed along with whatever the attendants had me do. I don't know what I was thinking exactly. I should have spoken up. But after they clearly used what they called microblading on my eyebrows and I didn't speak up, it felt wrong to say anything when they went to waxing my entire body. When they put the face mask on me and the teeth whitener tray in my mouth I couldn't exactly speak up when I felt them giving me a manicure and pedicure. And when they put me in the barbers chair I was too amazed looking at my matching pink finger and toe nails to notice them styling my hair.
The last step before they let me go was piercing both of my ears. And my belly button. I'll be honest, I was a bit of a mess when I got home.
The AI went into overdrive at that point, promising it would work on my confidence. The pills it ordered, which it admitted were herbal anti-anxiety medications, helped. After I was on those for a couple days I relented and went along with it's program. I mean it didn't NOT make sense that I should learn how to make all of this look good until my hair, eyebrows, and nails, grew back out. So every day I worked on my hair, styling it in various feminine styles. I applied the makeup in what it called professional, at home, and date night styles. I realized the lip treatments the gave me at the spa actually made my lips plump up and become more sensitive, so I kind of enjoyed learning how to apply the lipstick.
When I complained that my body was seeming to be more flabby in areas, especially my chest, my trainer insisted that I wear a compression device to support it and that that would help. Of course I should have guessed that the compression devices were the sports bra and even more feminine looking yoga pants. She promised they'd help my butt as even it seemed to be getting bigger.
The most unusual confidence building the AI had me do was the voice training. I had to wear a headset as the AI lead me through the exercises. It listened to my voice and told me how to shift and speak properly. To me it felt like I was speaking in a higher tone and talking quieter... softer... but it insisted the training would help build my confidence.
At night, since I was having trouble sleeping, the AI built up some white noise that would help me get to sleep and stay asleep. I swear, sometimes it almost sounded like there were voices in the noise but that was probably my imagination.
Things kept progressing all winter like that. Roger was really kind and supportive. He never made fun of me, and even said he could see me improving. He appreciated me cooking and cleaning and taking care of the house and complimented me on the job I did all the time. He even got more physically affectionate, giving me hugs when he got home. He bought me aprons to help out while cooking and said I could use his credit cars for new clothes if I wanted.
The AI took advantage of that last part and bought me new jeans and shirts. They were all kind of tight but they strangely fit the shape of my new body and curves. I called straight up bull shit on the underwear when the AI said it would help shape my body along with the exercises as it was clearly panties and thongs. But after I relented and wore them the first time, I have to admit they felt better under the tighter jeans and pants.
My voice was smoothing out and the AI was certainly helping me with my elocution, although it was also getting softer. People on the phone were starting to mistake me for a woman. I mean, with the makeup, hair, and nails, I could understand it when they made that mistake in person... especially at the gym where I wore the bra, but now even on the phone when the couldn't see me, they were mistaking me for a woman.
Every year Roger goes through his stuff and donates anything he hasn't used for awhile to charity. Just his way of giving back. I helped him set everything aside for the charity group to come pack up and take away before he went to work and I went to my gym session. When I came back though, I got so upset that I called Roger practically crying. It seems that the charity group got messed up instructions as they not only took Roger's things that we laid out in the living room, but took practically everything out of my room. The only stuff they left clothes wise were the new form fitting clothes.
Now when I got my normal body back, I wouldn't have any boxers or shorts or regular t-shirts to wear. Roger actually left work early to come home and help me calm down. I don't know what came over me, but I couldn't stop crying. Having Roger set us on the couch, wrap me in his arms, and just hold my face to his big broad chest was really calming. He promised he'd make it up by replacing everything and even giving my room a make over.
When I finally calmed down I thanked Roger and smiled up at him. I was taken aback when he not only hugged me again, but actually kissed me. I'm sure it was supposed to be a friendly "glad you're okay bro" kind of kiss... but... I've never kissed a guy like that before. Or had him wrap his arms around me and cup my chest.
It turns out those next few days were the days of reckoning. I made Roger a special dinner with cake for desert. He made me blush by gushing over how good the food was, and I had to admit that I'd been working on the cake recipe for a couple weeks. It was made from scratch. I guess the AI had picked out his very favorite type of cake.
The next morning after Roger went to work I got another set of deliveries. One was from the AI and one was from Roger. The AI's one left me speechless. It included a note saying that I had come such a long way that it was time to learn how to be intimate with a lover and that my training would be focused on that for the next month. The package included three dildos of various types, a vibrating sex toy, and two different butt plugs.
I closed the box up and just slid it under my bed and opened up the other box from Roger. I was almost as shocked at this delivery. It was full of more clothes. But instead of vaguely androgynous or less masculine clothes like I had, this was more obvious. More overt. It was lingerie, stockings, garters, bras, jewelry, dresses, skirts, and blouses. It was the type of clothes and under things that all of Roger's girlfriends wore. It too bore a note that said "I'm so happy that you've taken to the AI training this past year."
I was shocked and worried and nervous. I logged into the AI system and after struggling with it telling me I didn't need to worry about such things, it finally let me go into the initial questionnaires as I tried to figure out how it had done all of this. What I found were not only the few interviews that I'd filled out, but also dozens of others. When I looked at the video recordings, I saw that I'd left my laptop and tablet out and logged in. And Roger's girlfriend at the time, Tammy, had filled them out. In one of the video's she even jokes over her shoulder, evidently to Roger, that she loves filling out surveys like this to prove just how much of a traditional wife she wants to be.
I vaguely remembered Tammy. Roger had only dated her for a short time. She was shorter, with a fairly flat body. Short hair, and an almost tom boy style. I'd questioned Roger why he went for her when she was so different than his normal girlfriends and he said that she wanted to be 'trained' to be a traditional wife. The dating ended shortly thereafter when she figured out that the traditional wife Roger was looking for wasn't only an ultra femme woman but one that devoted herself to her man and didn't consider her own wants or needs.
It hit me like a ton of bricks. She'd filled out far more of the questionnaires than I did. And she filled them out like they were a fantasy of what she thought Roger wanted. Girly girl, sweet, soft spoken... exactly what the AI had been turning me into for the past year.
I closed the laptop, took enough deep breathes to stop myself from crying, and got changed to go to the gym. As humiliating as it was to go to where half of my feminine training was taking place, now that I knew what was going on, I still found the gym to be calming and relaxing and I really needed that now.
After a soothing day at the gym, I came home to see a bunch of workers exiting our apartment. The last one tipped his hat at me and said "We got your room set up exactly as the work order said miss. I hope you enjoy it!"
Nervously I stepped into the apartment. At first I didn't see any changes. Nothing in the kitchen or living room was different. Then I saw my work area. I'd always kept it fairly spartan. Just a computer, a work tablet, some drawing tools, and my camera equipment. All of that was gone, replaced by a sewing corner with everything for crocheting, mending, and a little library full of cookbooks. When I got to my room, everything was different. The beige walls were a soft pink. My mattress in a box that had been on the floor since I moved in was replaced by a canopied bed with a matching side table and vanity. The vanity had all of 'my' cosmetics laid out on it right near the large well lit mirror. My closet had all of my dresses, tight jeans, heels, sneakers, gym clothes, and lingerie hung up or in my new dresser. And in the cabinet next to my bed... all of 'my' sex toys.
The most frightening thing though wasn't the pink femmy room. It wasn't the elimination of my work station and the creation of a tradwife hobby nook, it wasn't even the makeup and clothes. It was the fact that it all looked and felt... right? After closing my eyes for several minutes I could hear the AI speaking softly from speakers now built into my bedroom's ceiling. I couldn't quite understand what it was saying, but my mind just went calm and I went with the flow.
After my shower and applying the three lotions that made my skin nice and touchabley soft I slipped the thong and heels on. After sitting at my vanity and putting my makeup on, I pulled my hair into a simple ponytail then moved into the kitchen where I put my new apron on, appreciating that it covered up my breasts. There was no reason to deny it any longer. While they may only be A or small B cups, they were distinctly breasts.
I then fall into a blissful zen state as I start working on my cake recipe. I know that Roger will love it and after all the effort he's put into me, I owe him. A part of me is nervous... a part of me still thinks this is wrong... but the more I let go the more I realize it feels right. And that an equal part of me is looking forward to the sex lessons that start tonight. I'm sure Roger will love those too!
