And with that, Becky walked out the front door to her car parked in the driveway. As she did, Jon felt his shirt change around him. The color changed from white to powder blue, and the sleeves shortened to just cover his shoulders. These changes, however, paled in comparison to what happened to the front; the neckline dropped, and dropped, and dropped. When it stopped, a low scoop was left that didn't end until it was over the edge of the shelf left by Jon's newly acquired breasts revealing a canyon of cleavage.
Jon was shocked. If he ever saw this on woman with his proportions he would have not been able to do anything but stare. Bringing himself out of this trance, he realized he need to get something else on if he was to ever have a chance of going outside the house with any dignity. As he walked towards and up the stairs, he noticed that the heels click-clacking beneath him were forcing him to mince his steps and causing the large amount of flesh in his view to bounce and ripple.
When he made his way to his room, he promptly went over to his closet. Throwing it open, he saw that in place of his normal polo, dress and t-shirts, he saw a wide array of scoop necks, v-necks, cross-cuts, low-cut blouses, undershirts and t-shirts with long rips down the front. He even saw a few dresses and skirt suits where his suits had been. Most surprisingly, even his winder clothes had been altered to be more revealing, including his jackets. After examining his new attire with frustration, he realized that the shirt he wore was the most modest and resigned himself to finding a solution to the problems Becky had caused.
