Ben and I were the only ones smiling as we drove to the beach that morning.
My wife had not given in easily. Partially to sell the bit, of course…but I suspected she hadn’t found it difficult to mount a defense.
It’s much easier to come up with arguments in favor of something when you truly are in favor of that thing, you know?
Belle had tried negotiation, she’d tried being reasonable, she’d even offered a treat. But my wife—perfectly in character—hadn’t been having any of it. Mary had (quite effectively) brought up precedent; she’d worn this exact outfit just one week earlier, after all, and received support for doing it!
And then she’d brought in the ever-reliable “You don’t understand”, “You’re being so unfair”, and “You’re just jealous!”
And in response, my daughter had grown more and more stubborn.
To my amusement, Belle had even resorted to a classic—“You’ll do it because I said so!” which had been received exactly as well as it always is. My daughter had threatened, she’d cajoled, and I can’t deny that I’d gotten more than a modicum of pleasure out of the fact that she clearly found it just as exhausting as Mary and I always had.
Fighting with someone who won’t be fought with…yeah, it’s very draining. And now she was seeing it from the other side.
It was having an impact. Of that, I was sure.
Finally, a compromise had been reached…but for the two women, it had cast a pall upon Family Day.
And so as we drove to the beach, Ben and I were smiling, while Belle (in Mary’s body) was sitting beside me, one hand to her mother’s temple, her fatigue obvious.
Mary, meanwhile, was sitting in the back, mock-sulking (for show, I could only assume), Belle’s body dressed only in a short denim miniskirt and a tight top—the result of the compromise the two women had reached.
I glanced at Ben—had I been sitting in the back seat next to my daughter, I wouldn’t have been able to resist checking her out. Just the amount of skin on show would have been enough to keep my attention…but, of course, my son wasn’t interested in any of that. To him, she was simply his older sister, not an object of want or desire.
As it should have been.
A part of me still hoped I could get back to that stage when this was all over. The rest of me knew that was never going to happen. I was never going to feel normal again.
“We’re here,” I sung out cheerily, parking the car. The sun was shining, and there wasn’t a cloud in sight.
Apparently we weren’t the only ones who’d decided to spend such a beautiful day catching some rays; as we walked onto the hot sand, it felt like half the town’s population were there.
I told Ben that he could go play in the water, as long as he stayed safe, which just left me and my two body-switched girls.
The crowds of people included—not unexpectedly—a great many men, and I could sense my wife perking up as Belle’s body began to garner attention from them.
Before long she was two steps in front of us, shoulders thrown back and head held high. Where most people were soaking up the sunbeams, Mary was basking in the barely-concealed lustful stares of dozens strangers.
There was something about the way she moved, I could just tell…she wanted to be naked. More than wanted, she yearned for it. I would have bet anything that my wife would’ve taken on a second mortgage just for fifteen minutes of walking on that beach in our daughter’s body, completely and utterly nude.
All eyes on her bare tits, her naked ass.
Her exposed pussy.
Despite the workout it’d already had that morning, my cock twitched at the idea of it.
And a little at the knowledge of what was going to happen next.
I glanced at Belle—when we’d been here last week, she’d been proud, enjoying the sight of her body being admired. In its own way, it had been an important step; Belle had been able to truly see herself in a way that most of us will never be able to experience:
The way everyone else sees us.
She’d finally understood that she wasn’t the awkward, gawky teenager she’d been a few years ago. Belle had been able to witness her body in its current state: her stunning curves, her huge breasts, her long legs, her pert ass.
My daughter was a walking sex godddess, and—for the first time—she’d been able to see it.
That had been the first step. The second step had been watching the police inappropriately checking her out, highlighting that not all attention is a good thing.
That she wanted to be seen as more than just an ass and a pair of tits.
And the third step? Well, the expression on my wife’s face told me that we’d landed that as well.
Belle didn’t look proud, not this time. Instead, she…well, she looked exactly like my wife truly did when she watched our daughter gallivant around with barely anything on.
“Belle,” she hissed. “Stay with us.”
“It’s the beach, Mom,” my wife responded, rolling our daughter’s eyes. “I’m not going to spend the whole time at your side like a poodle.”
“Well, just…stay where we can see you, okay?”
Mary turned around, a very convincing look of disdain on our daughter’s face.
“Wait. Ben can go straight to the water, but you’re putting me on a leash?”
“Just don’t go too far,” I interjected. I’m known for my attempts to break up fights before they began. “Don’t leave the beach. And be careful!”
With everyone else gone, exploring the beach and playing in the crowds, I took the opportunity to talk with my daughter without her knowing I knew it was her. I knew it would be one of the last times I’d ever have the chance.
She was distracted at first, trying to keep an eye on her body as my wife weaved it in and out of the mass of people, striking up conversations with everyone from teenagers her age to men older than my father.
I knew what she was doing, of course. She wasn’t exactly being subtle about it. She’d stand with her hands behind her back, one leg in front of the other, showing off our daughter’s assets, teasing them just as she’d teased the two policemen…and me, countless times in the past week.
And perhaps just because of how well I know my wife, or perhaps because I’d spent so much time over the last few days staring at my daughter’s body, I could tell that it was turning her on. There was a little extra sway in her hip as she walked, and I swear I spotted her clenching Belle’s perfectly-toned thighs with arousal whenever someone checked our daughter’s body out.
My wife was turned on, and not even trying to hide it.
But after a few questions, Belle turned her attention back to me, and we began to catch up properly.
“How do you think Belle and Ben are getting along these days?” I asked, and I couldn’t help but smile at how quickly and confidently she answered.
“I think they’re in a good spot. Belle has hit that age where…perhaps she can appreciate family in a way she couldn’t before.”
The conversation drifted from topic to topic, and every answer my daughter gave just further confirmed it:
We’d done it. My wife’s crazy plan had worked. For the first time in years, I truly felt that…Belle was going to be okay. She’d matured and grown so much in just two weeks. I had to tip my hat to my wife—she really knew what she was doing.
And then, just as I was opening my mouth to ask what she thought our daughter’s opinion was of her old man, my wife’s body sat bold upright.
“Where is she?” she asked, looking around the beach franticly. “Where’s Belle??”* * *