Soft Femboy in Making

The first real proof comes the afternoon Vikram visits again.
Priya dresses you in a soft cream shirt that sits close to your body. The early shape of your chest is more noticeable if someone looks carefully. She adjusts the fabric herself, then leaves you alone with him on purpose.
Vikram’s eyes move over you more openly than last time. They linger on the soft shirt, on the slight curve starting to show, on your waist.
“You look good,” he says quietly. “Really good. Soft.”
You feel your ears heat up. “Priya keeps buying these kinds of shirts.”
“They suit you.” His voice is low, almost proud. “Some of us prefer this look on a guy. A lot more than the usual thing.”
When he leaves, Priya is already waiting.
She backs you against the wall, slips her hand under your shirt, and rests it over the tender, forming flesh.
“And how did that make you feel? Compared to when men were staring at me?”
You hesitate.
She squeezes gently. “Talk to me. I want the real answer. The naughty one.”
“…It felt stronger,” you admit, voice low. “When he looked at me. More personal. I didn’t want him to stop.”
Priya lets out a soft, pleased breath.
“Good boy.” She kisses the corner of your mouth. “You’re starting to understand. A normal husband would have been annoyed that another man was eyeing his wife’s body. You got more excited when the same kind of attention was aimed at you. That’s the difference I’m showing you, little by little.”
Her hand keeps moving slowly over your chest.
“I’m going to keep proving it. Every time men look at me and you don’t get angry… every time you feel that soft jealousy instead… every time you light up when Arjun or Vikram stare at these growing little boobs… you’re going to see it more clearly. You’re not reacting like a man who owns his woman. You’re reacting like a pretty femboy who wants to be wanted.”
She leans in until her lips brush your ear.
“And I like that version of you much better. That’s why I’m doing this.”
She still doesn’t explain the full reason.
But the way she touches you, the way she makes you speak the shameful truths out loud, and the quiet satisfaction in her eyes all say the same thing:
She is proving something to both of you.
And she is enjoying every soft, humiliating inch of the proof.