Forced Feminizing our wife Arjun

As Arjun closed his eyes, desperate to escape the day's horrors, a sudden realization hit him: it was Wednesday, and Vikram had demanded the sarees by Friday. Tomorrow, he would have to sneak home and steal them. While plotting his plan, his gaze fell on the crumpled black panty in the corner. He knew he had to wash it for tomorrow and the pink one he'd worn all day, stained from his edging session with... his husbands....wait no why had that word even crossed his mind? "Gather yourself, man," Arjun muttered, shaking off the confusion.

He rose, grabbed both panties, and hand-washed them, humiliated and disgusted by the precum stains he'd left. He dried them in the living room no way could he risk the terrace, especially with these being Catherine Aunty's. Slipping into boxers and clothes, he studied, ate dinner, and collapsed into bed, forcing himself not to dwell on the past day or the nightmares awaiting in the next two.

Morning routine began with a bath. As he reached for his boxer, he remembered: panties only. He fetched the black one from the living room and pulled it on, the fabric a constant reminder. He packed a spare boxer and night clothes for his parents' house, ensuring his lunch was secure this time—no repeats of yesterday's humiliation.

The college day passed normally, with no texts or sightings from Vikram and his crew. Arjun focused on classes, tugging his t-shirt down to hide the waistband. Lunch came and went without inspection; he even considered swapping to his spare boxer but decided to wait until after classes.

Relieved, he dashed for the bus home. Midway, panic struck—he'd forgotten to change and was still in the panty. Arriving, his mom looked shocked to see him on a Thursday, not the usual weekend.
"I have project work this weekend, so I won't come," Arjun explained.
His mom eyed his tucked-in t-shirt oddly. Only then did he realize: standing before her in panties under his pants. Sweat beaded on his forehead. "I need a shower," he blurted, rushing inside. He changed into house clothes, stashing the panty deep in his bag.

After snacks and studying, he schemed to steal his mom's saree sets. The servant left at six; Mom entered the kitchen then, Dad arrived at 6:45. A narrow window.
The clock struck six. Hearing her in the kitchen, Arjun tiptoed into their room, opened the cupboard, and grabbed three sarees. He hunted for matching blouses and petticoats, stuffing them under his shirt. Rushing out, a blouse slipped. He dumped the bundle in his room and dove for it—just as his mom appeared.

"What are you doing in our room, Arjun?"

Panicking, he stammered, "Just grabbing a pen."

Back in his room, he sighed in relief. The night proceeded normally: dinner together, then bed. Morning came, and he donned the used black panty again, in case Vikram checked. At college, as lunch ended, his stomach churned—he had to head to Vikram's house after classes. He couldn't fathom what awaited him.

Arjun's last lecture dragged on, each tick of the clock amplifying the dread pooling in his gut. The sarees, blouses, and petticoats weighed heavy in his bag, a stolen secret that could unravel everything. As the bell rang, he lingered in his seat, hoping for some miracle delay