"No further questions."

"Good~" she offers you a hand up. "Let's get you dressed."

You take her hand with a bit of a blush and shakily rise to your feet, leaning on her for support. She guides you over to the wardrobe in the corner, still latched from the day on the road, and unlatches it to have her large collection of costumes and local clothing choices burst out of it suddenly.

"Have enough yet?" you ask with a bit of snark.

"It's good to be able to blend in, be it to get or perform a job," she says as she grabs a pair of woman's underpants from the bottom of the wardrobe. "Slide these on."

Shakily, you comply with her wishes sliding them on like you would your own. The tightness in how they fit reminds you of what you have lost in the front, and what you have gained everywhere else.

Next, she offers you a simple chemise, "Put your arms up please."

You comply holding your arms up as she slide the undergarment over your head, letting its shockingly smooth material slide over you, covering everything from your thighs to just above your pert nipples. "What purpose does this serve exactly?"

"Padding," she says as she grabs a long dress from the wardrobe. "You don't want your nipples poking through your dress or to feel everything your breasts bump against in perfect detail." She smirks as she throws the linen dress over your head without any fanfare.

You wade through the mess of linens soon finding your head poking out of the head hole as you struggle to find the sleeves. After a struggle, you manage to get everything in order with the white top made up of poofy, yet short, sleeves and the lacy neckline that dips a bit lower than you would like and straighten up your ankle-length brown skirts.

"And now," she holds up the terrible device, the one each of your wives loathed with a passion even if did make their asses and breast look terrific in comparison, the monstrosity with a thousand laces. "Time to put on your corset~"

You gulp, "You can't be serious..."

"Oh, calm down. Only noble ladies can afford to keep them tight enough to cut of circulation, yours will just hold your dress in place and give your breasts some support," before you can react she's on you and fastening the corset around your waist, drawing the strings tighter and tighter. Before it feels like you can't move a muscle in your core, she stops. "Can you still move?"

You find yourself surprisingly able to bend all the way with relative ease and even find your breasts having reduced movement.

"Good~" she ties off the corset before grabbing a pair of stockings and femininely sized work boots. "I trust you can figure these out."

With a smug smile you hike your skirts up and slide both stockings up to your thighs before sliding your dainty feet into the boots.

"Good, you can start on your chores, while I make dinner. We need some more firewood for our stores and the horses need fed."

Stepping outside you find the wagon has been pulled off to the side of the woody road into a convenient clearing. The full moon overhead and clear conditions allows you to see with relative ease. The wagon seems suspiciously small from the outside.