An Impossible Task

"You know, I have such a pretty face. Would it kill you to smile a little?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, it's just hard to be cheery when I've been carrying your TITS around all week!"

That earned me a disapproving look. "Don't forget, I could make this much worse for you."

It had been the week from hell. It started with a fight about me not appreciating my wife taking care of the house. I argued that since she worked freelance jobs online, it shouldn't be so hard to deal with that stuff. She replied, "Why don't you give it a try, since it's so easy?"

Before I could protest, I blinked and found myself staring at... myself! I looked down, patting and pinching all over as I tried to comprehend what had happened. A deep, familiar chuckle made me look up. "Yeah, babe, we've switched bodies. I figure if you're going to do all of my chores this week--and you are going to--you ought to have the body to match!"

Setting aside my disbelief for a moment, I screamed, "Put us back, right now! I'm your husband, goddammit!"

That was a mistake. The smile instantly left my old face. "I don't think you're in a position to be making demands. For the time being, you are the happy, doting wife in this relationship. Unless you'd rather be a pretty, pretty princess?"


She snapped her fingers, and suddenly I was wearing some sort of frilly, lacy costume. It fully sank in at that moment that she was in complete control. As my cheeks flushed with embarrassment, I muttered out, "I'll be good."

I woke up the next morning to a lengthy to-do list. It was miserable shopping for groceries, sweeping the floors, and on and on and on, all while trapped in my wife's body. At first, I thought it might at least be fun playing with her boobs any time I wanted. Unfortunately, the novelty wore off after a few hours. Even ordinary clothes seemed to display her curves, which made me incredibly self-conscious whenever I left the house.

Finally, I'd had enough. "Baby, I've cooked and cleaned and been a perfect little housewife all week. You were right. It sucks. Can we please change back?"

She looked at me carefully. "Alright, I think you've just about learned your lesson. As soon as you finish washing and folding the laundry, you can be done. Make sure you do it right!"

I've never been more excited to load a washing machine in my life. I waited in the laundry room the whole time for it to finish and started folding the minute the dryer stopped.

Finally, I reached the last item: a fitted bedsheet. In a few moments, this would finally be over! I'd just have to find the corner... OK, so there's not exactly a real corner. Maybe I could sort of, I don't know, tuck one end into the other?  No, that doesn't seem right, either. My first attempt resulted in a big, wadded mess.


Come on, man! Do you want to be stuck in your wife's bra and panties for another week?

Let's just slide this part here... grab that side... ugh! The longer I tried, the greater my frustration grew. I could hear my heartbeat pounding. Earrings dangled and distracted me. My fingernails seemed to constantly get in the way. The sheet looked increasingly less like bedding and more like a gray pretzel.

As I stared in bewilderment, my wife passed by and chuckled. She slapped my ass and called over her shoulder, "I'm starting to wonder if you enjoy being a girl?"

Fuck! I threw it down in a huff and poured myself a cup of coffee to try and calm down. "Hey hon, you starting dinner soon?" my wife called from the other room. I shuddered at what else she might have up her sleeve if I didn't keep performing my role.

"Heating up the oven now!" Dammit, sheet. You win this round.

Author's note: this post was partially inspired by true events, and is also probably the dumbest TG caption you'll ever read.