Sarah's eyes surveyed Jon's new body, and he couldn't help but feel a little exposed in the too-small panties and bra. It wasn't even his body, but he still felt some ownership over it.
"Mhm, well, I don't know if I have much that will fit you. Bra and underwear, probably, but everything else will have to be poached." Sarah said as she moved out of the bathroom.
"Poached?" Jon hollered after her.
"From the other sisters. Don't worry, I won't be long for soon. Check in there for the undergarments." Sarah gestured at a plain brown armoire before disappearing around the corner. A moment later Jon could hear the door open and close.
Jon turned away from the mirror and the reminder of the situation in it, but it became quickly apparent that he wouldn't be able to ignore it. A few stumbling steps and bouncing breasts had him biting back a gasp of pleasure, but he made it to the armoire. It felt like an invasion of privacy, like something out of the horny tales of misbehaving boys digging through a woman's underwear drawer.
But he was a woman now, and he needed something to wear. Besides, Sarah told him too. He opened the two big doors. Only shirts, blouses, and a few pairs of easily wrinkled pants hung on hangers. He opened the second drawer: skirts and shorts fit for Sarah's slimmer frame. The third drawer had even more tops. He bent down for the fourth drawer. Silky black hair fell into his vision.
"Fuck," Jon whispered under his breath. With minor difficulty, he tucked the hair behind his ears and bent over again, but the hair sprung free. "What the fuck."
Jon glanced around the room. He had a sister and wasn't completely inept to feminine difficulties. He didn't see it. He walked back to the bathroom, a little more steady this time. However, the jiggling of his breasts was still distracting, and the undersized panties were starting to dig into his warm folds. In the bathroom, he found his culprit: a dish with an assortment of hair ties.
Jon grabbed a plain, non-poofy one and returned to the armoire. It took a few attempts, but he managed to get his silky black hair back into a messy ponytail. He bent at the waist once more and opened the fourth drawer: finally, bras on one side and underwear on the other. As he dug through his options, his hands stilled on a thong. It was way too risque, but it was exactly what his idea of a more exotic girl would wear.
He could imagine it on his body, hiding very little and framing the firm curves of his ass. He shuddered from the gush of warmth in his groin and bit his lip. God, it would look so good.
Shivering, he continued through the bras until his hands stilled again. A lacy corset that was attractive in how much and how little it concealed. Opaque around the breasts but translucent everywhere else. It would be so hot. Something that had never appeared in his fantasies but was now in front of him. He felt he could turn away, the desire to fit the exotic aesthetic almost gone, but on the other hand.
This was a unique opportunity. He was still trying to find a way back, but he could still have some fun. He tossed the corset on the pile and tugged off the panties and bra. He grabbed the thong, and his hands stilled again. It was as if his rational mind was back. Sure, he was going to have some fun with this, but there was nothing here. He would feel way too exposed. The desire to be exotic fulfilled by the corset, he managed to change the thong for a slightly less risque pair of lacy black panties that would match the corset.
He tugged on the panties and set to work on the corset. It took him a minute before it was finally on. He stepped back to the bathroom, his steps more steady, but his gait still felt strangely stiff. What was in the mirror took his breath away.
A woman in her early twenties looked back curvaceous, hugged by an incredible corset and a matching pair of panties that still slipped between his asscheeks. It looked good on the vaguely Middle Eastern/east asian woman. An exotic beauty that was hard to place, which only made her more exotic. There was still a problem.
The panties dug into his skin, and his breasts spilled from the corset. "God, I just wish it fit a bit better."
The bracelet flashed again, and the warmth spread across his skin again, but his body didn't change this time. The panties and corset shifted and grew until they fit comfortably. Well, barely comfortable. They were still a bit small, his breasts spilling out slightly, and the back of the panties still slipped between his cheeks, but it was fine and still looked exceptional.
He needed to be more careful with his wishes.
The door opened and shut again. Jon walked stiffly to the bathroom door, and what he saw surprised him. It was Sarah, but she was different. She still wore her baggy yet form-fitting jeans and that blue blouse that went well with her blonde hair and blue eyes, and she carried a bundle of clothes in her hands.
From what Jon could see, she was now a little more curvy. CC to D cups and a slightly more of an hourglass figure. Shit, he changed her again, and she didn't even notice. Of course, for Sarah's clothes to fit Jon better, she would have to have a more pronounced figure.
"You're wearing that?!" Sarah exclaimed.
