Jon's New Look

"Thankfully," Zoe said, "I have spare underwear for this very occasion."
Jon raised a sarcastic eyebrow: "You've been stockpiling fresh panties in case your brother turned into a girl?" he intoned sardonically.
"Nice snark," said Zoe. "I see that your goth personality is asserting itself nicely."
Now that she pointed it out, Jon suddenly realized that he couldn't remember ever having used sarcasm so easily before; he was generally straightforward and earnest.
"Don't be embarrassed," Zoe cut in. "It suits you. And to answer your question: No. I have not been stockpiling panties in case my brother turned into a girl. But I do, however, have panties which I've never worn which happen to be too big for me and so suit the occasion perfectly. You know Aunt Ester? How she sends us underwear for Christmas every year? Yeah..."
With that she reached into her underwear drawer and produced a wrapped set of three pairs of panties. "You can have them."
"Thanks, I guess," said Jon.
"Don't thank me yet, sis. It turns out that Auntie Ester is wrong about more than just my size."
Having been tossed the package, Jon could see that the panties included inside were horrible, frilly pink boxer-styles dotted with small red love hearts. His eyes flashed disgust, which Zoe picked up on.
"Not exactly gothic style I know, but good enough. Besides, it's not like anyone will see them."
"Then why aren't you wearing them?"
"Because," Zoe replied, "I, unlike you, dear girl, have other panties I can wear." She smirked. "As they say, beggars can't be choosers."
With some reluctance, Jon ripped open the package and pulled the garment out in front of him. For the first time, Jon's male and female minds were in complete agreement about not wanting to wear them. But he did nonetheless. The panties were tight enough, and his penis was flaccid enough, that there was barely a bulge at his groin once the panties were in place; and both his male and female minds were once again pleased to have the dead male phallus out of sight; she because she didn't like having a penis at all, and he because he didn't like having a dead one.
Looking away from the mirror though, Jon had to admit that he found the softness of the panties to be very comfortable. What's happening to me? he thought briefly, before reassuring himself once again that he would change himself back once this particular adventure was over.
Zoe laughed in spite of herself at her brother's horrendously ugly panties. "Don't worry; you can buy yourself a new pair later on. Now...as for the top...I think I have just the thing. I haven't worn it in years; it's been so long since my boobs were as small as yours, but..." she ducked into her closet and emerged, not with a bra as Jon had been expecting, but instead with a black corset complete with breast cups.
"No way," Jon protested, but his heart wasn't in it and Zoe knew it.
"You know you waaaaant it," Zoe teased.
And the worst part was that Jon did want it. He didn't want to admit it to himself, but his heart was racing at the very prospect of wearing it. To surrender to his dark, romantic, feminine urges and see himself in such a garment.
"Oh, alright," he said with obviously fake reluctance that made Zoe giggle.
It took Zoe a few minutes to fasten the corset around his back, but once it was done, he was quite satisfied with the results. The tightly pinching corset amplified Jon's newly feminine physique, magnifying his hips and thrusting his bust outwards. As for his masculine side, it rapidly grew as faint as his corset made his breathing when Jon caught a view of himself in the mirror. He wasn't sure if it was just the corset, or if he had actually become more female in the time since he had completed his bath. Given his condition, it was probably a combination of the two.
"You like it, don't you?" Said Zoe with a smile.
"I guess," Jon said. The fact was that he loved it, and they both knew it.
"Now...why don't you get yourself some clothes to wear over top? Anything; I'm feeling generous."
Jon suddenly felt like a kid in a candy store. His first inclination was to return to the black t-shirt and and fishnets he had been wearing initially, but, after having experienced the luxurious elegance of the corset, he felt he would look around a bit.
And soon, he found what he was looking for; it was a dress in a nineteenth-century style, blood-red with a series of pencil-thin black patterns traced upon it. Before Jon knew what he was doing, he had pulled it on and buttoned it up, rejoicing in its deliciously feminine elegance.
"Ah," quipped Zoe. "That was from my "Victorian" phase. Lasted about two weeks."
"I remember," said Jon, smiling fiendishly into the mirror. "No offense, sis, but I think it suits me a lot better than it did you."
"So...you're a Victorian goth then," said Zoe.
"Looks like," said Jon. Then he caught himself and said: "I mean... So it would appear, dear lady," and giggled. And then he curtsied to his sister.
"Well...to each her own, I guess." said Zoe. "And least now I can count on you to clean up some of my fashion mistakes."
Jon smiled. "Now...what's next?"