Soft Femboy in Making

That same night Priya stands in front of you topless, casual, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world.
“You used to get so jealous of these,” she says, cupping her breasts. “Not of the men who looked. Of me. Of the fact that I had them and men wanted them.”
She places your hands on her chest and makes you admit the old truth: you used to stare at her body at home and wonder what it would feel like to have men look at you the same way.
“That’s why this is so easy for me,” she murmurs, climbing onto your lap. “You already had the soft jealousy inside you. I’m just giving it a proper shape.”
She moves your hand from her breast to your own developing chest.
“Feel that? It’s already starting. In a few weeks these will be nice enough that when Arjun or Vikram looks, they’ll feel the same pull men used to feel looking at me. And you’ll like it even more than you liked watching them look at me.”
She rocks against you slowly, still holding your hand on your own chest.
“Tell me the truth. Part of you is already hoping Vikram noticed them today. Part of you wants Arjun to see them properly soon. Say it.”
Your voice comes out quiet and rough.
“…Yes. I wanted him to notice. I kept wondering if he could see the shape.”
Priya lets out a soft, delighted breath and kisses you harder.
“Good boy. That’s the version of you I’m keeping. The one who gets jealous of his wife’s breasts… and then grows his own so men can look at them instead.”
She still doesn’t say the full reason she needs this.
But as she pushes you back onto the bed and keeps your hand pressed to your developing chest while she rides you slowly, it becomes very clear:
She is not just feminizing you for fun.
She is rewriting the old jealousy into something new… and she is loving every soft, humiliating second of it