Pretty face - part 2 (Patreon)

Part 1: https://www.patreon.com/posts/pretty-face-109282365 (or https://www.patreon.com/posts/pretty-face-with-109281846)

...

Margarita sat at the table, her eyes glazed over as she watched Derek step onto the stage, accepting yet another award with that smug, self-satisfied grin she had grown to despise. The applause around her was deafening, but she couldn't bring herself to join in. All she could think about was the weight on her chest! Her new breasts, the ones Derek had insisted on, were heavy, foreign, and a constant reminder of how much her life had changed.

She forced herself to clap along with the others, but even that simple act caused her breasts to bounce unnaturally when she clapped, touching accidentally her huge protruding breasts. She gulped and looked down at her chest. 'This is what I’ve become,' she thought bitterly, her hands moving in a mechanical clap as she forced herself to join the others in their admiration of Derek. 'A showpiece. A fucking accessory with fake tits.'

The thought made her grit her teeth in silent anger. This was not the life she had planned for herself. She was supposed to be on that stage, receiving awards for her business acumen, not sitting here with a body that wasn’t even hers, playing the part of the perfect, plastic wife.

As she stared at Derek, her mind wandered back to the day he suggested the surgery. "You will be delighted with my gift! This is what you have always dreamed of!", he had said as he held a card with the phone number of the clinic. "It will make you feel more confident." She had tried to resist, but inside she knew he was right. She had always wanted bigger breasts, at least this thought seemed somehow attractive to her. But now, in reality, this gift felt more like a nightmare, a constant reminder of her own loss, her fall, her new position as a trophy wife.

“Margarita, darling, those look amazing,” suddenly one of her new friends cooed, a wife of other businessman. Her eyes were fixed on Margarita's chest, her gaze lingering on the large, round silicone-filled breasts that protruded from her cleavage. "How do they feel?" the woman added.

"Oh, um, they're, like, totally fine," she replied, trying to sound casual, but feeling embarrassed and angry inside.

"They look incredible. Who’s your surgeon?" woman continued, reaching out to touch her breasts. "Could I feel them?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," Margarita replied, forcing a smile, and feeling the woman's fingers pressing against her fake tits. She wanted to fall through the ground, to disappear, because the situation was really ridiculous, but instead, she smiled weakly and played along, knowing there was nothing she could do.

"They look so natural! So soft and real," the woman exclaimed, squeezing her breast. "Are you happy with them? Do they hurt?"

"No, they're like, fine," she answered, trying to sound casual, but inside, she was seething with frustration. "Like, totally fine and, um, not hurting or anything."

"I'm thinking of getting mine done too. They look great!" the woman said, finally letting go of her breast and stepping back. 'Finally!' Margarita thought. 'Marsha is always like that, always trying to show everyone how she cares about everyone. So annoying. But she is one of Derek's close friends's wives, so I should probably try to be nice to her, right?' she thought and smiled politely.

"Thanks, I, like, totally appreciate it," Margarita replied. "So, like, tell me now about your, like, recent trip to Thailand?" she added, realizing that she was really interested in this and secretly imagining how she was going on vacation with Derek somewhere. Of course, she sometimes understood and remembered that these thoughts... were not at all those that she actually thought about when she was still a man, and at those moments she wanted to run away somewhere, anywhere, to cry and shout, so she tried not to think about it.

"It was a dream come true!" Marsha replied enthusiastically, her eyes shining. "The beaches are amazing, and the food is just incredible! We even had a private villa, and the views were absolutely stunning," she continued, gushing about her trip, while Margarita felt envy and longing rising inside her. 'What if Derek took me on a trip like that?' she thought wistfully. 'I want to travel too, I want to see the world and experience new things. Why other gilrs are traveling all over the world and I'm stuck here, being a boring housewife? I may not be me anymore, but I'm still have a pride.'

"Oh, sounds, like, super nice," Margarita responded, feeling the resentment burning inside her.

"It was amazing," Marsha replied, then changed the topic. "So, have you heard about the charity gala next week?" ...

Time passed unnoticed while they chatted excitedly about various topics and shared their experiences as a trophy wife with each other. And although Margarita was still trying to hold back her feelings, deep inside she like this kind of talking and realized that these women are not as stupid and boring as she first thought, but are actually intelligent and experienced.

The women laughed, and one of them even reached out to touch her arm in solidarity. "You’re going to have to share all your secrets with us," one of other wives said with a wink. "We all want to know what it’s like to be so... enhanced." and wved her arm for goodbye when evening finally ended and guests were leaving.

She glanced at Derek, who was now laughing with some other men, his award gleaming in the dim light and walked slowly towards him, a strange mixture of anger and resignation bubbling up inside her. This was her new reality, her life, and no matter how much it hurt to admit it, she was stuck in this body propably for rest of her life. 'I better stop thinking about things that are no longer mine,' the girl thought sadly, 'Derek is my husband, the only thing I can do now is try to please him as best as possible, like good wife should. Without him, I have no one,' she sighed as her small delicat palms gently wrapped around Derek's waist, embracing him from behind, her enormous breast pressing against his back as she smiled politely, greeting others and making herself a part of this small circle. 'This is what I am now,' the girl thought bitterly, 'this is how I have to be. A pretty trophy wife who always smiles, never complains and who always stands by her husband.'