No more skirts.

“What do you mean Jack?” She blushes. “I don’t know what you are talking about?”

“So you don’t remember coming home every few weeks or so, pissed drunk, and rant about how skirts and dresses are sexist?” You remind her.

“Um. Well, that is true.” She replies reluctantly. “Wait, I don’t have to wear that stupid skirt to work anymore? Or anymore dresses when Mom drags me to church.”

“If you want? For a price that is.” You tell her.

“This is so great. I can’t…Wait! What price?” She gets a cautious look on her face.

You leave her hanging in suspense while you finish up your cereal.

“Come on Jack! Tell me.”

When you finally finish eating, you reply.

“The price, is that you cannot where pants or shorts either.” You finally tell her.

“Oh, come on! That’s…that.”

“Should be easy for you since you have practically no body shame.” You say.

“That’s not true.” She says getting up and staring down at you. No doubt a try in intimidation, although it never worked before.

“Remember when you first moved in? What did you wear to breakfast on that first day?” You ask.

“I don’t remember.” She mumbles, but you hear her fine.

“Let me remind you.” And you pull her towel, revealing her naked body.

“Hey!” She does not even bother to cover up, putting her hands on her hips.

“You walk around naked all the time. You are not even bothering cover yourself now!” You exclaim.

She looks down at herself, examining her average B’s and shaved pussy, seeming to think it over.

“Fine.” She sighs. “Just do it.”

“Okay. Emely, you are no longer allowed to wear, dresses, skirts, shorts, or pants, ever again.” You say.

“Damn! I was hoping you would forget about the shorts.” She says while sitting back down to finish her cereal.

“Don’t complain. You know, you will love it.” You tell her.

“I will not!” She replies, but a smirk betrays her.