I’m back! We shall see for how long!
Your vision of the world clears as you are born into this world. Some may find it odd that you use the word “born”, as you were not truly born as much as made. You don’t remember much of being made. But you know you came from a factory of some sort. And somehow you were transported to where you are now: a store. The store is made up of many bright colors, which somehow you know are pink, purple, white, and a few other colors sprang to mind. You were never taught their names, but somehow, you know what to call them. The store is filled with many human beings, living things, and all the female of the species. They browse through the products, all of which are articles of clothing. Which is what you are, of course. You are a bra. A pink, frilly one at that. This makes you feel somewhat girly, and for some odd reason that comes with a bad connotation. But, seeing as you’ve only existed for a few minutes, and the only living things you’ve actually seen are girls, you quickly realize there is nothing wrong with being girly. If all goes well, you think to yourself, you’ll be spending the rest of your life, or existence, with a girl. So why not feel girly?
You feel very excited as a girl picks you up with her soft, delicate fingers. This makes you feel very good, as if your entire fabric is electrified. It makes you realize just how much you want someone to buy you. You look at her breasts, which seem to be proportioned perfectly to her body. And hopefully, would be proportioned perfectly to your body. She picks you up, and you feel the air catch your cups, swaying you upwards as she grabs your tag and examines it. She smiles, and drops you into a plastic bag filled with various other clothes. This makes your heart skip a beat. If you had a heart. Its weird, you think to yourself, because how would you know what it feels like for your heart to skip a beat? You don’t, of course, but your sure if you did have one, it would’ve skipped a beat.
You are scanned across a machine, and taken back to her house in the bag. She throws you on a bed, and there you lie for hours upon hours. You find yourself thinking of when she might wear you. Will it be fun? Will it be scary? All these questions run through your fabric mind as you wait. And soon, the wait is over as you see her come back in. She grabs a piece of clothing you identify as panties, and they have the same design and color as yourself. She pulls them over her legs slowly and sensually, and gives a half smile to herself as she does so. Its as if she was doing this for someone, but there is no one here but her. She then grabs you, and undoes your clasps. You feel the anticipation as she puts her two breasts into your cups, and your cold fabric is filled with warmth. The warmth brings feelings so good you are beside yourself. The feeling is so arousing. Arousing? You are not sure what that word means, and why you would make such a word up then and there to describe your feelings. But then again, there is not much for your mind to do, so making up words isn’t such a bad thing. You bathe in the pleasure, and you know this is what you were meant to do. You feel her snap your clasps behind her back. The breasts fall into place, and you feel the weight on your cups. But not too much weight. Just enough. You are a perfect fit, and you can’t imagine doing anything else.
In the mirror, you can see the lady, clad in a pink set of bra and panties which you know is half you. She looks simply amazing, and you can’t help but think that is, in part, due to you, and how good a job you are doing at making her look good. Now she can go out confidently, and be complimented by her friends. Maybe they’ll ask where she bought you. Maybe they’ll ask to borrow you. Maybe they’ll even steal you cause you make her look so good, but you highly doubt that. She looks down at her breasts, and puts her hand on your right cup. As she touches you, those arousing feelings intensify. Not that they aren’t already intense. She smiles, and then closes her eyes as if she were concentrating. Then she throws her head back in laughter, much to your confusion. But you don’t think about it too long as she throws on a beautiful red sundress, and your vision is partly obscured. It is cut a bit low, and you are thankful for this as it means you can see a little. Not that it matters that much. But, when one’s job it to make someone look good, it’s nice to see others noticing the fruit of your labor.
She put on some high heels, and jumped in her car. Although her breasts were not overly big (you somehow knew you were a B-Cup size), they still jiggle inside you, stimulating the arousing feeling all the more. She drove with the windows rolled down, and you can feel the air rush past you. She arrives at her destination, a nice restaurant, and takes a seat at a table with another human, but a male of the species. He, unlike her, seems somewhat repulsive. Not that he looks bad, but in your eyes, he has no ounce of attractiveness to him. Instead of soft, feminine features, he is hairy, and gruff. And he has nothing on his chest that you could ever imagine yourself being worn on. But, you can tell he is attractive to this goddess that is wearing you, because she is laughing and smiling a lot. And her breasts are getting somewhat hard within you. Not overly so, but enough that you can tell that she likes him. How you know this, you don’t know, but these signs seem to lead to a simple conclusion.
After the dinner, the man leads your wearer out to her car, and they talk for hours in the cool, midnight breeze. You watch as they share a kiss, and as his hand moves, she grabs it and puts it upon her breast. The touch, although masculine in nature, sends shock waves through you. As they kiss, you feel her arousal, or what you can only assume is the equivalent to your pleasure, and you begin to feel excitement. You’re not sure why, but it seems like the natural thing to do. Her breasts grow beneath you, and her steady breathing becomes faster. You can feel her heart pounding ninety miles an hour. And then it ended. He broke off, and she stared deeply into his eyes with an emotion you could never comprehend. Your excitement fades to simply contentment, and with that, the both of you drive home.
Back in her room, she begins to take her clothes off for bed. She throws her dress on her bed, and falls down, letting out a huge sigh and a bright smile on her face that you see reflected in the mirror. She then undoes you, and slowly slips out of you, much to your dismay. She does not let go of you though, and brings you up to her face.
“You have worked out so perfectly,” she said. This confused you. Why would she be talking to you? And how you comprehended her speech, you didn’t know. You had only existed for all of a day. “I know I did quite the whammy on you, and I don’t know if there’s really anything left of you in there. Last I checked there wasn’t. But, if you are in there, it won’t be too much longer. Give it a week or two, and I’ll have you back in the land of the living.”
* * * * * ** * * * * ** * * * * ** * * * * **
So, if you like that at all, here is what I ask of you, dear readers. If you would be so kind as to comment below with where you would like this story to go. Anything goes, and I will be making this into a bit of “Choose your own adventure” but more open ended. Be as detailed or as quick and simple as you want, just know the more freedom you give me, the more liberties I will take. And yes, I will try to make different branches as well. Who knows, may not work too well, but it could be fun 🙂
P.S. If you have any “visual aid” you want in the next branches, link ’em, and maybe I’ll make something work
Mike: Honey, don’t you think this is a bit over the top?
Wendy: What do you mean? You said you wanted me to stay true to you and only you.
Mike: I’m a skirt, hun. I think those rules don’t apply anymore.
Wendy: Of course they do. I’m true to my word, and as a skirt I will wear you and only you.
Mike: Uhuh, real true. Then why are you going to a topless bar?
Wendy: Well I have no husband to be true to, now do I? Now shut up, we’re going.
Mike: And if I don’t?
Wendy: I’ll do a really bad mental on you, and you won’t even remember who you were by morning.
Mike: Considering you’re trying to pick up men at a bar, I’m probably not turning back anyway. I’ll take my chances.
Wendy: *Sigh* Don’t say I didn’t warn you. *Snap*
Mike: Wait you didn’t….ohhh that wind feels nice under my hem. Ooh! And she doesn’t have panties on, lucky me! Feels so…STOP! I can fight this, I can…..I can….feels good…soooooo good.
Wendy: I take that back. You won’t remember yourself tonight.
Just a small word of warning about just how prevalent magic is these days. My friend was a very persistent man, and when he asked for an interview with the famous Emma Watson, and she turned him down, he couldn’t take no for an answer. He began following her around for like months, to conventions or events and tons of different things. Well, finally Watson couldn’t put up with him any longer. So what you see here is the last I saw of him, strapped around her breasts just before she was going running. And judging by her age in the picture, its been many years. I’ve attempted to find him and turn him back, but truth be told, he probably enjoys his much simpler life now, if he even remembers being a man at all. A few years as an object will do that to you.
WHOOSH! Megan twirled her skirt yet again. Please Stop! Her boyfriend, who was the skirt, pleaded. Every time she twirled him, he felt less and less like a man, and more and more like a skirt.
“What’s wrong skirt?” she asked.
WHOOSH! Skirt?! I’m not a skirt, my name is….
WHOOSH! “What’s your name?”
You know my name, mistress. It’s skirt! Now please, stop twirling me!
WHOOSH! “But it’s so fun, skirt!”
WHOOSH! I’m so pretty….
The panties shivered as it became conscious, and quickly realized that becoming conscious should be impossible. But nonetheless, the panties were feeling the undeniable pleasure of being worn so close to its wearer’s intimate parts. As it basked in the bliss, a thought came across its awareness. What if there had been something? Something so far back in time that it couldn’t remember, but something that had made it aware. Maybe the panties had not always been panties. How else could you explain something like this happening in panties? And as the panties continued to consider that option, it began to think. To think like…a human. Yes, the panties concluded that it must’ve been human, like its wearer. Living, breathing, talking human. And it wanted to turn back, but how? It began to calculate a plan when a pair of fingers began to lightly stroke the panties. It shivered in pleasure, but thinking was become so hard. It would be so easy for the panties to just stop all thought again, and go back. But it musn’t stop now! But even as it thought that, bliss was quickly over taking the simple mind of the panties. His wearer said some words, but the panties comprehension could barely catch the meaning of the words.
“That was close,” the wearer said. “We can’t have our clothes begin to think for themselves!”
Tim woke up from his stupor. He remembered that he had been writing on his blog, trying to update it again after another long absence, when someone pinged him. Now it was coming back to him. He had been talking to this girl who shared the same interests as him, and they were in a conversation about transformation. When she asked him what he truly wanted to be transformed into, he answered a pink, lacy, feminine bra. And that was the last thing he remembered. Now he could feel something heavy and warm inside him, filling him up, and he knew exactly what had happened.
“Oh Tim, you turned out wonderful!” said the girl from last night’s chat.
“I love it too,” Tim thought, hoping to god that she could hear him. “But how am I gonna write like this. I was just getting back into my blog, and now I’m gone again.”
“Oh that thing? Don’t worry, frilly little bra, I’ll take care of it all. Just sit there and be pretty!” The girl giggled, and that seemed to make the bra…I mean Tim content.
So while he contentedly sits on my chest, I hope I can take his place for awhile!
Most Sincerely Yours,