Irony of Fate - New Rewrite - part 4, 5 (Patreon)

Part 2, 3: https://www.patreon.com/posts/irony-of-fate-2-110378913

Part 6: Coming Soon! (In Progress)

...

Part 4

"I...I just... need...some... space...," her voice sounded pitiful even to her own ears. But she knew she needed some time to calm down and to figure out her plan. "Damn dress!" she growled angrily as she pulled it off of herself with difficulty, not caring if she ruined it, the last thing on her mind.

The lace bra and matched panties were so tiny and sexy. They looked so good on her, but she was in no mood for such a game, feeling trapped inside of her body that at the morning seemed to her to be the sexiest thing ever! Now, this same body was only making her feel nauseous.

There was a soft knock on the door. "Honey, are you okay in there? Is something wrong?" Her husband's voice was calm, tinged with concern, the child’s soft whimpering could be heard in the background.

The sound of his voice grated on her nerves. "I'm fine!" She snapped, unable to control her irritation. She heard a soft sigh on the other side of the door. "Just... please, don't disturb me! I have some serious things to deal with right now!"

There was a pause, then the voice of the man, her husband, came through the door, gentle but concerned. “Emily, are you okay? You’re not acting like yourself... Do you want me to take Lily to bed?”

Lily? Emily almost laughed with a hysterical laugh. As if that was the thing to care about at that moment! “Yes...yes, that would be good,” she forced out, knowing she needed time to think, time to plan.

"Okay. I'll be back soon. And I'll bring you a hot drink." She heard footsteps walking away from the door and sighed in relief, having finally calmed down.

“Think, damn it, think!” she muttered, running her hands through her hair, feeling the unfamiliar softness of it, the way it slipped through her fingers. She had to find a way out of this nightmare. And the only solution that made any sense, the only way to get close to her old life, was to seduce her former self to get to Michael's phone so that he wouldn't fire her tomorrow.

But only thought of having to seduce her own body made her stomach churn. She wanted to vomit, to scream, to tear off this ridiculous lingerie and throw herself out of this situation, out of this body. But logic kept her grounded. And it was ironic. She was a Michael all her life and she knew exactly what he liked. It's seemed so disgusting, but after all, to succeed in business she had to do worse things... though not so personally...

Part 5

Emily stood in the center of the room, her fists clenched at her sides as she decided to get over herself and try to look seductive for the person who once was herself, who now looked at her with that lewd look that disgusted her so much.

“Honey, are you okay in there?” her husband’s voice broke through her thoughts, gentle and filled with concern. “Do you need anything? I put the baby to bed and-”

She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms. “Go to hell!” she spat out, her voice cold and venomous. “Just leave me the fuck alone!”

There was a pause on the other side of the door, and for a moment, Emily thought he might push back, might try to reason with her. But then she heard a soft sigh, followed by the sound of retreating footsteps. “I’ll sleep on the couch tonight,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with hurt.

Good, she thought bitterly. Let him go be a good little husband somewhere else. She didn’t need his pity, his kindness. She needed to get her life back.

With trembling hands, she pushed herself away from the door and stumbled toward the wardrobe. The sight of Emily’s clothes—soft, feminine, utterly useless—only fueled her rage. How could she, Michael Johnson, be reduced to this? A pathetic woman rummaging through dresses, trying to find something that would make her look… attractive. It was humiliating, degrading. But it had to be done.

She yanked open the wardrobe doors and began rifling through the clothes with growing frustration. Dresses, blouses, skirts—all of it looked so ridiculous, so wrong. But she knew Michael—she knew what he liked. And she hated herself for it.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she found something. A tight, black dress that clung to the curves of her...no, Emily’s body in all the right places. It was simple, yet seductive. Perfect for what she had to do. But as she held it up, a wave of nausea washed over her. She couldn't believe she was doing this!

“Fuck this,” she muttered under her breath and struggled with hard to pull on the black dress. It was tight, too tight, and she had to shimmy and tug to get it over her hips. Her damn breasts bounced and jiggled uncomfortably with every move, making her groan in disgust.

“Fucking ridiculous,” she hissed as she managed to finally get the dress over her body, and, without looking in the mirror, she rummaged through Emily's small collection of shoes. Her gaze landed on a pair of heels, black and strappy. Once the heels were on, she attempted to stand. Her legs wobbled, and she nearly fell, catching herself on the dresser with a low curse. "How does that bitch even walk in these things?!"

But she kept going. She had to look perfect. She walked again and again, learning how to move, learning to balance on the slender stiletto heels. The heels clicked on the wooden floor as she slowly gained confidence and the ability to move gracefully in the ridiculous shoes.

Next came the makeup. It was a challenge, she stared at the array of cosmetics laid out on the vanity, feeling a sense of dread. She had no idea how to use any of this shit. But she had to try. She couldn’t face Michael looking like… like this.

She didn't even think it was so difficult when she started smearing red lipstick on her lips and when she first saw the result! It looked like a little girl had taken her mother's makeup for the first time and made a mess. "This is disgusting..." She said softly to herself and clenched her teeth tightly.

It took the rest of the night spent watching tutorials online to even begin to do it properly, but somehow, she managed it. As the last touch, she straightened her hair, running a comb through it until it hung in long, silky waves. Then, she looked at the result... and barely recognized Emily looking back at her from the mirror.

She looked... good, almost like a superstar or something. Emily had a nice face, of course, but this... this was something else entirely. She even felt proud of the result, but then she remembered what it all was for, and her lips twisted in a snarl of disgust.

"It's already morning..." She said in a tired voice as she saw the rays of sun already on her face.

It was time.