Imprisoned in Pink

"Ok Tracy, it's time for you to go away for a minute.  I need to speak with Carl."

"Aww, but he's no fun! Can't I stay? I'm sure I can help with anything you need..."

"Don't worry, this won't take long. Carl, time to wake up."

"What the... where am I? What's wrong with my voice? Why do--" my wife snapped her fingers and I instantly fell silent.

"Ugh, that was so annoying, Tracy is so much better behaved. Let's think though, I'm sure you remember why I had to make you this way?"

Unable to respond, I looked down at my body and fought back a wave of nausea. A frilly pink dress stretched across my chest to show off perfectly rounded breasts. A choker collar squeezed my throat and makeup caked my face.

My mind raced as I tried to make sense of it all. The last thing I remembered was coming home from my annual work convention in Las Vegas. I'd expected a warm welcome after being away for several days, but my wife flew into a fit of rage as soon as I opened the door. She accused me of cheating on her, saying there were charges on our credit card from some seedy brothel. None of it was true, but she wouldn't listen.

"Good, I can see it's coming back to you. The beer you drank that night was laced with some pretty potent drugs that put you in a highly suggestible state. The triggers I planted in your mind are buried so deeply, I don't think you could go back now even if I let you."

She expectantly, as if waiting for a response, but I remained silent. "Oh, silly me," she said, before snapping her fingers again.

The invisible grip holding my throat silent finally let go. "I'll call the police! Tell them you forced me into all of this!"

"Forced you?" she chuckled. "Your signature is on the paperwork for every surgery!"

I gaped back dumbfounded, not even realizing how much I looked like a little pink princess. "Please," I begged. "I never cheated on you."

My lips parted in shock at her cold response, "I know." The last thing I heard was, "Oh Tracy, time to play..."