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Captioned Images Series: Better At This Than She Was
Created: 02/14/2025
Tammy sat on the edge of their bed, her fingers idly twirling the pocket watch she had just used. The hypnosis session had gone flawlessly—better than she had even dared to hope. Gene, her skeptical, no-nonsense husband, had succumbed to the gentle rhythm of her voice, her carefully placed suggestions taking root.
Now, she waited.
Gene had vanished into their bedroom nearly two hours ago, insisting on privacy as he “got ready.” Tammy hadn’t argued—she was far too intrigued. But nothing could have prepared her for what stepped out when the door finally swung open.
The woman standing before her was stunning.
Gene—no, Jean—posed in the doorway, a radiant smile playing on those scarlet-painted lips. The buttercup and scarlet midi-dress draped over his frame with surprising elegance, the shoulder pads adding a touch of sophistication. His nails gleamed in the same fiery hue as his lips, and when he stepped forward, the confident click of his matching scarlet heels echoed against the hardwood floor. His hair, carefully styled in soft waves, framed a face touched with just the right amount of makeup—blended eyeshadow, perfectly arched brows, and a dusting of blush that gave him an almost natural glow.
Tammy's mouth went dry.
Jean placed a manicured hand on his hip, cocking his head ever so slightly. “Sweetie, why aren’t you dressed yet? We are going out,” he said, his tone carrying a gentle but unmistakable impatience.
Tammy blinked. Once. Twice. “I—uh—what?”
Jean sighed dramatically, clicking his way toward her. “Hun, we don’t have all night,” he said, reaching out to take her hands in his own. His scarlet nails contrasted beautifully against her bare ones. “Come on, let’s get you into something fabulous.”
Tammy tried to protest, but Jean wasn’t having it.
“Oh no, no excuses.” He spun her toward the closet, gripping her shoulders lightly. “You know you can’t just wear anything when you’re stepping out with me.”
Tammy stifled a laugh, pressing her lips together. “Jean, I don’t think—”
“I know you don’t think, hun. That’s why I’m here.” Jean grinned, already thumbing through the hangers. “Now, do you want to go classy or bold? Actually, never mind. We’re going bold.”
Tammy watched in pure fascination as her husband-turned-glamorous-woman pulled out a fitted black dress with sheer sleeves, holding it up with an approving nod.
“This,” Jean declared, thrusting it into Tammy’s arms. “Now hurry up and put it on.”
Tammy stared at him, half in disbelief, half in admiration.
Her husband had been hypnotized into thinking he was a glamorous, confident woman.
And somehow, he was better at this than she was.
God, she loved hypnosis.
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