The Family Confrontation

It happened on a quiet Sunday afternoon, three months after the wedding.

Dorothy received a message that your parents wanted to meet. They had finally learned the truth about what happened to you over the summer.

Dorothy dressed you carefully for the occasion: a soft pink sundress that hugged your heavy DDD breasts, clearly showing their shape and the faint outline of your cage underneath. Your long bubblegum-pink hair was styled neatly, and your permanent pink gold collar gleamed around your throat.

She smiled as she adjusted your dress.

“Let’s go meet your parents, Mrs. Voss. I think it’s time they see what their son has become.”

The meeting took place at a private café with an outdoor garden. Your mother and father were already seated when Dorothy led you in on a discreet leash attached to your collar.

The moment they saw you, both of them froze.

Your father’s face went pale. Your mother’s eyes widened in pure shock.

You were no longer their son.

You stood before them as a beautiful, feminine figure — long pink hair, massive breasts straining against the dress, thick thighs, and a visible bulge from your steel chastity cage. The engraved words on your collar were impossible to miss.

Dorothy sat down gracefully, pulling you onto her lap like a cherished wife. She wrapped one arm around your waist possessively.

“Hello,” she said sweetly. “I believe we have a lot to discuss.”

Your father was speechless. Your mother’s hands were shaking.

Finally, your mother whispered, voice breaking:

“…What did you do to him?”

Dorothy chuckled softly and squeezed one of your breasts through the dress, making a small wet spot appear as milk leaked.

“I didn’t do anything he didn’t secretly want. But let’s be honest, shall we?” She looked directly at your mother. “You knew exactly what would happen when you asked me to take him for the summer.”

Your father turned to your mother, confused.

“What is she talking about?”

Your mother looked away, guilt written all over her face.

Dorothy continued, voice calm and cutting:

“Your wife and my mother, Lady Eleanor, have been having a secret affair for over two years. When my mother wanted to make things more serious, your wife offered a gift… to sweeten the deal.”

She gently stroked your pink hair.

“She offered you. Her only son. To be given to me, so I could turn you into the perfect wife for the Voss family. In exchange, my mother would help her divorce you and marry her.”

Your father looked like he had been slapped.

“Is this true?” he asked your mother, voice trembling.

Your mother didn’t deny it. She only looked down, tears forming in her eyes.

“I… I fell in love with Eleanor. She made me feel things I never felt with you. When she said she wanted us to be together officially, I knew I had to give her something valuable. So I… I gave her my son. I thought… I thought you would be happier this way.”

Dorothy smiled and kissed your cheek.

“And look how well it turned out. My wife is perfect. Beautiful breasts, long pink hair, always leaking milk for me, and completely addicted to serving my cock. She even lactates when I suck on her tits every morning.”

She squeezed your breast again, making more milk stain the front of your dress.

Your father stood up suddenly, looking devastated.

“I can’t believe this… You sold our son to turn him into… into this?”

Your mother was crying now.

“I’m sorry… I just wanted to be happy.”

Dorothy remained perfectly calm, still gently fondling your breast while you sat silently on her lap, humiliated beyond words.

“Well,” Dorothy said smoothly, “the good news is that everything worked out. I got my perfect wife. My mother gets her new partner. And you…” She looked at your father with pity. “You get to keep the house. Consider it compensation.”

She stood up, pulling you with her.

“Now, if you’ll excuse us, my wife needs to be milked and fucked. She gets very needy in the afternoons.”

Dorothy tugged your leash gently.

“Come, Slutcunt. Let’s go home.”

As you crawled behind her, you heard your mother sobbing and your father shouting, but Dorothy didn’t even look back.

In the car, she pulled you into her lap and kissed you softly.

“You did very well, my love. Your mother gave you to me… and I turned you into something far better than they ever deserved.”

She slipped her hand under your dress and gently squeezed your leaking breast.

“Now let’s go home so I can drink from my wife.”