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Description
Yasmina sat with the other ladies of Stepford under the dryers in the salon. Another week, another reinforcing session. The ladies of Stepford were constantly having their programming reinforced. The programming was maintained at such a level as to leave a little resistance lurking under the surface. Their husbands liked their wives to still have a slight trace of the rebellious women they had once been.
The woman who protested at the drop of a hat who now had traded protests for raising funds for good causes with bake sales. The womens studies lecturer who now taught home economics to the young ladies in school. The lady who campaigned against fashion industry about the unrealistic expectations of their creations who spent her new life in Stepford the biggest devotee of Stepfords most vintage fashions. The journalist who now ran the Stepford gossip blog keeping all the wives up to date on latest happenings around town that every wife wanted to know. Weddings, births plus latest accomoplishments of various wives.
Yasminas husband liked her to feel the humiliation of her transformation. She still had a job outside the home. Working in an office she spent her days doing the bidding of all the men in busy office. So much paperwork and she needing smart men to talk down to her all day every day. Making her feel small, dumb and weak. When she had to do the bidding of the lowliest stockboy. Who enjoyed every opportunity of watching her wiggle around the office struggling to bend without bursting a seam of her always too tight skirt. Filing, fetching, the pretty eye candy whose sole purpose was to remind Yasmina of the proper place of women in Stepford. Now she was getting demerits any time her seams were crooked, her hair mussed, her makeup not salon perfect. These demerits would be passed to her husband who would explain patiently to her, yet again while spanking her how her failures reflected badly on him. Making her try harder to be more perfect for him. Such a long fall from her previous life. Then her ideas and opinions had been listened to. Her advice sought.
But that was the fate of women in Stepford. Brought to Stepford and their old lives taken away from them. Most had been brought to Steford by deception or intrigue. But for Yasmina it was the secret no one in Stepford could ever be allowed to find out. She had volunteered...

Special thanks to BellyDancer018 for putting the idea in my head...

Description
Yasmina sat with the other ladies of Stepford under the dryers in the salon. Another week, another reinforcing session. The ladies of Stepford were constantly having their programming reinforced. The programming was maintained at such a level as to leave a little resistance lurking under the surface. Their husbands liked their wives to still have a slight trace of the rebellious women they had once been.
The woman who protested at the drop of a hat who now had traded protests for raising funds for good causes with bake sales. The womens studies lecturer who now taught home economics to the young ladies in school. The lady who campaigned against fashion industry about the unrealistic expectations of their creations who spent her new life in Stepford the biggest devotee of Stepfords most vintage fashions. The journalist who now ran the Stepford gossip blog keeping all the wives up to date on latest happenings around town that every wife wanted to know. Weddings, births plus latest accomoplishments of various wives.
Yasminas husband liked her to feel the humiliation of her transformation. She still had a job outside the home. Working in an office she spent her days doing the bidding of all the men in busy office. So much paperwork and she needing smart men to talk down to her all day every day. Making her feel small, dumb and weak. When she had to do the bidding of the lowliest stockboy. Who enjoyed every opportunity of watching her wiggle around the office struggling to bend without bursting a seam of her always too tight skirt. Filing, fetching, the pretty eye candy whose sole purpose was to remind Yasmina of the proper place of women in Stepford. Now she was getting demerits any time her seams were crooked, her hair mussed, her makeup not salon perfect. These demerits would be passed to her husband who would explain patiently to her, yet again while spanking her how her failures reflected badly on him. Making her try harder to be more perfect for him. Such a long fall from her previous life. Then her ideas and opinions had been listened to. Her advice sought.
But that was the fate of women in Stepford. Brought to Stepford and their old lives taken away from them. Most had been brought to Steford by deception or intrigue. But for Yasmina it was the secret no one in Stepford could ever be allowed to find out. She had volunteered...

Special thanks to BellyDancer018 for putting the idea in my head...