I realized that with these huge knockers hanging from my chest, along with my newly diminished strength, I desperately needed a bra to support them. My...shirt, and bra where still hanging uselessly from my shoulders. Unfortunately, I knew next to nothing about putting one on, and I was willing to bet the remainder of my manliness that these things were more difficult to stuff into a bra cup the bigger they were.
So where did that leave me?
Well, I already knew that I could intentionally make wishes, so all that mattered was getting the wording right so I didn't end up accidentally giving myself a new bad change. I had enough of those already to deal with.
Immediately, something that felt like the right wording popped into my head. I should have been a little more cautious; the other wishes had just popped into my head out of nowhere too. But I was so happy I was making a wish to actually help something, I didn't stop to think about the million ways this could go wrong.
"I wish I was wearing clothing that is very comfortable and includes a very supportive bra."
My hand glowed, just like it had for all of my recent wishes, and then something happened that really shocked me, which was surprising because I didn't think anything else could after what I'd been through.
"Oh Darling! This outfit is so flattering to your figure! You look simply wonderful in it!"
There was no denying that my outfit was comfortable, at least from a physical aspect, but whether of not they could defined as clothes was up for debate.
Around my waist I was wearing the absolute skimpiest piece of underwear imaginable. (I would later learn it was called a micro g-string) A thin little triangle of black silk fabric covered the important parts. It started an inch wide right at the top of my womanhood and gently angled in so that it came to a point just after covering my asshole. This minuscule slip of fabric was held up by what appeared to be black dental floss; a strand of silk maybe a millimeter wide connected to the two corners of the triangle before curving up and just tracing my hips and ended just above and between my ass cheeks, where a second stand came down between my ass cheeks to connect to the bottom of the triangle.
The bra was a black lace thing that was strong but looked very skimpy. Instead of fastening in the back like a normal bra, it tied in the front; the shoulder and bottom straps of lace joined into one, and these straps, one from each side, were tied together in an ornate ribbon. The shoulder straps actually ran straight across from my shoulder to this ribbon, and, because the cups were made of a relatively small patch section of fishnet fabric that already had to stretch to cover the lower half of my boobs and my nipples, the entirety of my breast were pulled up so the tops of them were basically level with my collarbone.
Completing the sexy ensemble was something like a very sexy bathrobe, made of see-through black silk like the rest of my "clothes", that came to a point and tied just above my navel, leaving my mountainous cleavage and sexily clad nether regions exposed. Somehow I knew that when I was standing it would fall to and end at my knees, just like my brilliantly red hair. On my feet were a pair of black slippers that looked exactly like normal bedroom slippers except for their slight (maybe 1" heel).
But that thing that I focused on the most was the fact that I had heard a voice speaking in my head, and I knew it came from my bra.
"Why is a bra talking to me?" I asked, half hoping I wouldn't get an answer.
"Because silly," the voice, my bra, whatever, giggled, "You wished for me to be very supportive, and that doesn't just mean physically. It also means mentally and emotionally."
"And why are you talking in Karyn's voice?" I had just noticed that the bra was talking to me in a breathy, most bimbo-ish version of Karyn's voice.
"Well that's simple." You know how sometimes people shake with mirth? Well when the bra laughed this time, it did something similar, bobbing and swaying and causing my ample bosom to jiggle with it. I grabbed them quickly to stop it, because the movement was highly erotic. "Oh pooh, you're no fun; you won't let me shake you up a bit. Fine." The bra lost its breathiness and gained a serious attitude, sounding much more like Karyn. "Since you best and most supportive friend is Karyn, it made the most sense for me to sound just like her."
"Great," I said, slumping backwards so I was laying on my bed from the knees up. "This is just great. I've been transformed completely into a girl, am forced to constantly dress in overly sexy clothing, and now my bra is talking to me in my best friend's voice. I'd grab a knife and stab myself, but I don't know if I'm strong enough now to lift one," I finished sarcastically.
"Cheer up Sweetie. Look on the bright side: you've got a bod that's to die for, and you still have a wonderful friend. The real Karyn is still your best friend, and you're even closer now that you're both girls."
I didn't respond. I just continued to lie there on the bed, relaxing and trying to remember what it felt like not to have a giant pair of flesh bags attached to my chest.
I only got maybe five minutes peace, however, before the bra was talking again. "You know, you can have a lot of fun with a body like this. And I don't mean being used by other people. I mean things you can do all on your own. But maybe you just need a little something to get you started."
All of a sudden the bra began to rhythmically contract from the outside of my breasts upward and inward towards my nipples. It was sort of like an erotic massage, but it was also really ticklish. "Tee hee hee! Stop it! You're tickling me!"
"Wow," the bra said, not slowing down, "It sounds really weird with you laughing like that when you still have your old guy voice. Oops."
The bras words had triggered another wish from me. "I wish I have a high, beautiful, and melodious female voice." The wish was fulfilled, and my next words came out sounding almost like bells tinkling in human speech. "Ack! Stop it! Please! I'm begging you!"
The bra still didn't stop. In fact, in what I think was an effort to keep me distracted from my latest mess up, the bow holding it together untied itself and the silk straps began tickling my sides.
I was soon doubled over on the bed, both from laughter and from trying to stop the bra. I have to admit though, I was sort of enjoying myself. My pleas quickly dissolved into musical giggles, until all of a sudden I felt a new pressure and it became much more serious. "Please! You have to stop now! I'm about to wet myself!"
Immediately the bra stopped, the ribbons instantly retied themselves into a bow. "Run girl run! You can just make it if you hurry!" Not stopping to think, I leapt off the bed and sprinted to the bathroom as fast as my new hips would allow me. I didn't even have time to lament not being able to go standing up anymore; I just pulled my panties down to my knees, plopped myself down and let the stream fly.
