A Family Brassiere'd

  Lesson learned:  Don't piss off a witch.  Sure, I didn't know magic was real, and the woman looked completely normal, but when my family and I happened to beat her to the checkout line at our local Wal-Mart, she wasn't exactly pleased.  She tried to cut us in line, but I told her that we got there first, and she would have to wait her turn.  All we had was a new pair of shoes for my daughter Lila, but the rude woman decided that she would be next in line no matter what.  She snapped her fingers, and we all suddenly fell to the floor, motionless.

The now-obviously-a-witch loomed over us like a giantess, the other customers around us completely oblivious to the sudden disappearance of an entire family of four.  I could hear my husband and kids in my mind, Lila in particular crying out for help as the woman's giant hand reached down and grabbed the hangers we all felt ourselves connected to.  We hung from the woman's hand as she took our place in line, all layered on top of each other with my husband Franklin in front.  I had seen the inside of a bright pink bra swing in front of me before covering my vision, and I instinctively knew my teen son, Josiah, was contained within.  Little Lila was the large lavender bra in front of him, and Franklin's new form in front was a royal purple.  Only time would tell what I looked like now, but I could tell I was the smallest of the four.

As the witch made her purchases, our situation finally fully settled in my mind:  My family was just turned into a bunch of bras!  I could feel the price tag pinned through my left strap, the thought of us even having straps to begin with sending a chill through my non-existent spine.  Our captor didn't seem to be interested in us anymore since she didn't scan our tags at the self-checkout, instead setting us to the side in a stack.  Once she was done, she picked us up by the hangers again, sending us swinging with her arm movements.  Franklin said she was headed for Customer Service...

"Can I help you?" I heard from the counter above, the employee sounding like she'd had enough bullshit that day to last a lifetime.

"Yes," the witch replied.  "As I was making my purchase at the self-checkout, I noticed this collection of bras was left behind by someone."  She lied as naturally as if she was actually telling the truth, as nonchalantly as possible when she was holding what were once four living, breathing human beings in her hand.

"Thanks for letting us know.  We'll get these put where they belong right away," the tired employee said, obviously relieved she wasn't being accosted by some bitchy Karen upset that her bag of Doritos had two less chips than normal.  It was hard to feel bad for her though, my family's hangers having been passed into her possession.  We were quickly hung on a rack behind the desk, and Franklin told us the witch was walking away, leaving the four of us to our new fates.  Lila whimpered as we were left in complete stillness, surrounded by returned clothing not too different from us.  I wanted so badly to reach out to her in comfort, but I was just as freaked out as she was.

We hung motionless on the return rack for hours, Lila's rising panic the main sound in our minds.  Josiah didn't seem too worried, but his teenage mind probably figured that if he was a bra, he'd eventually get to touch a woman's boobs.  God, was that really all we were good for now?  Supporting women's chests until we wear out?  A family of four, reduced to a small collection of breast holders...

We were shaken out of our motionless reveries (and Lila's panic) when our hangers were finally grabbed by a worker.  We swung in the employee's grip for a few minutes, Franklin describing the route to the women's intimates area of the store.  One by one, we were hung in separate places with our now fellow bras, hearing each other's voices decreasing in volume slightly as we were separated.  Franklin was hung behind an identical bra that was a size smaller than him, so he wasn't exactly made for the bustiest of women.  Six-year-old Lila ended up in the back of a line of plus-size bras, having been turned into the largest brassiere of us all.  Fifteen-year-old Josiah found himself in the middle of a bunch of sportier-style bras, closer to the front of the line than the back.  Finally, I was carried a bit further away to be hung right in front of some cute teen-style bras, my husband describing the light blue floral lace pattern spread across my cups.

Lila was freaking out, having finally figured out what exactly she was turned into.  Any comfort I tried to give her was rendered moot, so I reluctantly tried to tune her out.  Josiah was actually jealous of Lila, being a lot smaller of a bra than his little sister.  Franklin tried to tell him off, while I simply stared out from my vantage point ignoring them all.  From where I was hung, I could see the rest of my family's locations.  'Great,' I thought to myself, 'I get to watch as the rest of my family is bought by complete strangers.'  With the store closed for the night, we hung in darkness and silence for several hours, Franklin and I taking turns to try to calm Lila down.  Eventually the lights turned back on, and customers started trickling into the store.

Josiah was the first to go.  I watched as the petite Japanese woman searched for her size among my son's light pink twins, finding her match in Josiah.  He seemed oddly pleased with the appearance of what would be his new owner, and he was roughly thrown into a small cart.  As he was rolled away, I listened as his voice got quieter and quieter, eventually losing the mental connection we all shared.  At least his new owner spoke fluent English...

Lila wasn't as lucky.  While she mourned the apparent loss of her big brother, I watched as a Hispanic woman approached the plus size area.  'God, her boobs are massive,' I wondered to myself, observing as she was helped by a Spanish interpreter to find a bra her size.  The busty Latina was led to Lila's area, and her hand immediately reached for the back of the pack where my youngest child was hanging.  Not too pleased by the disturbance, Lila started screaming for me as the customer and employee chatted in rapid Spanish, the words completely foreign to us.  Josiah could have helped, being at least partially knowledgeable in the language, but it was too late for that.  Lila was carried away screaming by the big-chested woman, the shrieking trailing off into silence as my daughter was torn away from me.

Franklin was next, the African-American woman barely even glancing at his tag before tossing him in her cart with her groceries.  His fabric body fell partially between a few food items as his new owner continued shopping, his voice quickly fading away as the dark-skinned beauty took my husband away.

Finally, it was my turn.  It was evening by now, and I started seeing teenagers mulling around the area.  One in particular approached me, her giant hand pulling me off my hook and away from my newfound sister bras.  She turned to her friend, exclaiming about how "totes adorbs" my pattern was.  The blonde girl threw me into her own cart, and I landed upside down on the cold metal.  I sat in the cart staring at the floor moving by underneath, unwillingly eavesdropping on the teenagers' shopping trip.  More items landed on top of me as their two-hour-long retail therapy continued.  Eventually the floor stopped rolling by, and the weight on top of me lessened as items were taken out of the cart.  I was lifted from the bottom, quickly swiped across the scanner, and thrown into a bag with a few other pieces of clothing.  I had been purchased for about $9 by a fourteen-year-old girl, and I reluctantly accepted my fate as my bag was carried out to her older friend's car.

It's been two weeks since I was bought.  My owner, Brittany, has worn me three times in this time, the feeling of her fairly small boobs filling my cups oddly comfortable.  Her body heat pleasantly warmed my fabric, and listening in on the girl's life from beneath her blouse was weirdly nostalgic.  Being stuffed in a mesh bag for laundry day isn't fun, but the washing and drying process is actually kind of like an intense roller coaster.  The peace and quiet of resting in her underwear drawer afterward is nice, too.  I just wish I knew how everyone else was doing...

I probably have it easiest out of the four of us.  I'm a small bra owned by a small-chested teenager who took really good care of her belongings.  Josiah's horny teen boy brain is probably taking a lot of pleasure from his new station in life, wrapped around a gorgeous Japanese woman's boobs.  Franklin shouldn't be doing too badly either, the modest chocolate-colored breasts likely not doing too much to wear out his fabric.  It's not that I don't worry about them; it's just that the three of us weren't dealt that bad a hand, all things considered.

It's Lila that I worry about the most.  She was turned into a frankly massive bra, and the thought of my little girl stretched across that woman's massive boobs, not being able to understand a single word her owner says... I can only imagine how scared and confused she must be.

I try not to think about anyone else too much; I'll probably never hear from any of them again.  Turns out, my teen owner actually lives half a state away, and was just visiting a friend from her old neighborhood for the week.  My family will live separately for as long as our fabric bodies last.  Who knows, maybe Franklin and Josiah will meet up with Lila again once they join her in the landfill.  She's definitely the one whose straps will snap the fastest...

And I'll exist in isolation from them for all eternity.  For now, I'll try to enjoy my time wrapped around Brittany's chest as she lays mostly undressed on her bed, unwinding from a long day at school.  I can feel her lingering excitement from her boyfriend walking her home poking into the inside of my cups, and I can tell she's thinking of the 'toy' her older friend bought her in secret.  I'll be right here to soak up her boob sweat.

Twisted Wishes: Together Forever

  It was a perfectly normal day in mid-October when it happened.  I was hanging out with my girlfriend Lacey after a long day at our community college.  We were walking back to our dorm room when I noticed the lamp almost out of sight behind a tree, the red and black metal standing out against the surrounding greenery.  On a whim, I picked it up so I could have it appraised later.  It looked a bit dirty, so I tried to rub off some of the dirt.  Imagine our surprise and delight when the grey-skinned genie suddenly appeared before our eyes!

"Greetings, young mistresses," the genie began, the term 'mistresses' making the two of us giggle lightly to each other.  "You have done well to find my lamp.  I will grant you one wish."

"Wait, only one?" Lacey asked, confused that we weren't getting three wishes each.

"Yes, one," the genie replied, seemingly mildly annoyed.  "And that's one wish for both of you to make together.  I have been found my many recently, and I have not had the chance to recharge my powers."  To me, it looked like he was making up an excuse, but I wasn't going to question him.  Who knows what he could do to us if we pissed him off.

Lacey and I looked at each other, already knowing what our wish would be.  Our relationship was fairly secret, our respective families not being overly accepting of anything LGBTQ+.  My highly bigoted parents didn't even like the fact that I was friends with someone who wasn't white, so how would they react if they they found out I, their own daughter Scarlet, was dating a girl of Vietnamese descent?  Looking into each other's eyes, Lacey and I made our most heartfelt wish.

"We wish we could be together forever!" we said in perfect unison.  There was absolutely no way THAT wish could be taken the wrong way!

The genie looked thoughtful.  "Hmm... Out of curiosity, what are your names, mistresses?" he asked.

"Uh, Scarlet and Lacey?" I answered, suddenly nervous.  Why would he need to know our names to grant our wish?

He smiled, rather more sinister than I would have liked.  "What gorgeous names.  Makes my job a lot easier, too.  Hope you enjoy your new lives!"  He snapped his fingers, and everything went black.

"You'll certainly be together forever," his voice floated through our minds.  "You might not like what that entails..."

I woke up, but that didn't mean I could see anything.  In fact, it didn't feel like I opened my eyes at all.  Actually, did I even have eyes at all?  Why did my body feel so weird?  And where was Lacey?

'Ugh, what happened?' I heard my girlfriend's voice in my mind.  So we could communicate through telepathy now.  'Where am I?'

'Lacey!  Where are you?' I thought out to her.  'I can't move, and it's dark everywhere.'

'Scarlet!'  I could hear the relief in her voice, although still laced with panic.  'I can't see anything either, and... WHY AM I PARALYZED?!?'

'Would you quiet down Lacey?!  We're talking in our minds, you don't have to shout!'

'Sorry babe...' Lacey replied sincerely, her voice still wavering with fright.  Her anxiety wasn't going to make this easy on her.

'Alright Lace, let's focus,' I said, trying to sound comforting.  'Can you feel anything?  Maybe that'll give us some clues.'

'Umm... I guess there's something soft touching me... is it above or below me... I can't really tell... Fuck, my body feels so weird...'  Interestingly, what she was saying perfectly matched what I was feeling.  It was like we were in the exact same place.

'Okay, I'm feeling the same things, so we must be pretty close to each other,' I told her, knowing that knowledge would probably help her mental state.

'Also, I feel... flat?' she continued.  'Is that what this feeling is?  How would I know what feeling flat is like?  Don't answer that,' she quickly added, knowing full well I liked teasing her about her rather small chest.  Good, she's cracking jokes at least...

'Well, I feel flat too, whatever that means,' I said, just happy Lacey's mood seemed to be improving regardless of whatever potentially horrific situation we were in.

'AHHH!  WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!?' Lacey screamed suddenly, reacting to the thumping noises somewhere near us, getting louder as they approached our location.  Her screaming continued as our location suddenly shifted, and light flooded into our eyes.  'WHY THE FUCKING GIANTESS AND she's kinda hot actually...'  Classic Lacey, freaking out about things before noticing an attractive person.  I couldn't see what she was seeing, but I definitely felt the enormous fingers grab my... leg?  Arm?  Fuck, I couldn't make heads or tails of my body, but the giant fingers lifted me out of what turned out to be an underwear drawer.  How was I small enough to fit inside a drawer, and how was Lacey apparently going through the exact same things I was while seeing a giant attractive woman?

Then my vision swung around, and a lot of things suddenly made more sense.  There she was, a gigantic Hispanic woman holding me by the... uh, appendage... and Lacey complained that her vision wasn't facing the giantess anymore.  It was clear to me now that Lacey and I weren't exactly human anymore, and we were somehow sharing a single form.  Our vision was on opposite sides of whatever we had been turned into, and judging by the thin red straps I saw in my peripheral, I finally figured out what we were.  I geared myself up to reveal the truth to my anxiety-riddled girlfriend turned bodymate.

'Lacey, would you stop screaming for a second?!' I said, perhaps louder than I wanted to as we suddenly sailed through the air, landing softly on a plush blanket on the giantess' bed.  'I figured out what's going on!'  Lacey finally quieted down, her vision likely trapped against the blanket as I watched the woman continue grabbing clothes from her dresser that we were trapped in less than a minute ago.  'The genie granted our wish by turning us into a fucking thong, and we're sharing a body so we'll be together forever.  I think my vision is in the back, and yours is in the front.'  Lacey was quiet, letting the information sink in.  I continued before she could start freaking out again, having witnessed a bra landing near us that would match us perfectly.  'We're a lacey scarlet thong, which is why he asked us our names.  This Hispanic giantess is our owner, and I don't think she's getting dressed for work...'  The only other thing our new owner had retrieved was a black pair of 5 inch heels, muttering something in Spanish I couldn't understand.

Lacey's screaming continued when our Latina goddess' fingers grabbed us by the sides, lifting us from the bed and lowering us toward the floor.  I decided there really wasn't anything I could do to comfort her anymore as one light tan foot stepped through our left leg hole, followed by the right.  We were suddenly rocketed up her smooth, recently shaved legs toward her crotch, and with a tug and a light snap, we were held in place by our owner's hips.  Now plastered against the foreign woman's ass and vagina, I found my vision quickly sinking between her ass cheeks.  Lacey's vision would be coming from the crotch area, so at least she could see more than I could.  Although, feeling the woman's obvious excitement soaking into the crotch panel, I wondered which of us actually had it worse.

My vision expanded a bit as our owner bent slightly to pick up our matching bra, then my sight was eclipsed by the massive tan cheeks once again as she straightened out.  I tried to tune out Lacey's wailing as I felt the giantess go through the motions of strapping the bra to her chest.  Unwilling to tell my girlfriend to shut up, I was allowed a fraction of a second of vision as the Latina stepped into the ridiculous-yet-sexy heels.  With a practiced sway, we were along for the ride as our wearer walked out of the room.  'WHERE THE FUCK ARE WE GOING?!?' Lacey's voice echoed in my head.

'Lacey, I don't know,' I snapped, suddenly silencing her screaming.  'My vision is being rubbed between this woman's ass cheeks, so you know a lot better than I do where we're going!'  I felt bad for snapping at her, but if we were going to be trapped together forever, I was NOT listening to her screaming for all eternity, no matter how much I loved her.  'Try to focus, and tell me what's happening.'

'Umm... we're out of her bedroom...' she started, obviously a lot more timid about talking to me now.  'It's hard to focus when my vision keeps tilting back and forth with every step she takes.  Damn it feels like she has a sexy walk; I just wish I wasn't a fucking scrap of fabric wrapped around her hips so I could - '

'LACEY!' I interrupted.  Even as we were, transformed into a sexy piece of lingerie, my girlfriend was horny as hell.

'Sorry, Scar...' Lacey continued.  'Uh... Looks like we're in a living room?  There's a bunch of decorative signs everywhere, but I think they're all written in Spanish, so I don't know what they say.  Oh, please don't - '  Her commentary was interrupted by our wearer suddenly sitting down on something, probably a couch.  My vision was still stuck in her ass, but I could tell my her motions that she was adopting a pose.  'Uh, Scarlet?  I think she's waiting for someone...'

'Why else would she be wearing us and barely anything else while posed sexily on a couch?' I asked plainly.  On cue, there was a rattling noise that signaled keys being turned in a door, then the squeak of the door being opened.  "¡Dios mío, qué sorpresa más agradable!" I heard a manly voice speak in the distance.  "¿Significa esto que estamos tratando de tener un bebé esta noche?"

'Oh my God, they're straight,' Lacey stated, followed by fake puking noises.  Despite our horrific situation, I found myself laughing at her faux disgust.

"No esta noche," the Latina goddess replied, her voice reverberating through our fragile fabric.  "Ahora."  With that Spanish utterance that neither Lacey nor I could understand, the giantess stood up again, walking toward the man that only Lacey could see.

'No, don't shove my face against his fucking dick!' Lacey shrieked.  'I'm a lesbian!  I don't want anything to do with that thing!!!'  I felt as my backside - our collective front - was pushed against what must have been the man's pants.  The sounds of a Hispanic couple passionately making out reached our non-existent ears, then the woman was slowly pushed toward the couch.  Even larger fingers grabbed our sides, the man beginning to slide us down our owner's legs.  There were quick kicking motions, followed by the thunking noises of the heels landing on the floor.  Fuck, we were just a piece of the massive couple's foreplay, weren't we?

As we were sickeningly peeled away from our wearer's increasingly wet vagina, her juices soaked into the little fabric we were made out of.  I could finally see again, my eyesight having finally been freed from the Latina's ass cheeks, as we quickly slid down her legs.  We landed on the floor with her feet still within us.  That wasn't to last, as she stepped one foot out of our left leg hole, then hooked us on the other foot and sent us flying away.  I figured we were about to land on the floor, but instead, our left leg hole got hooked on the back of our owner's left heel.  Our fabric form settled in its new position, and we were left hanging by a heel while the giant Hispanic couple went at it what seemed like miles away, but was probably closer to a couple feet above us.  Both Lacey and I could see at the same time for once, but thankfully neither of us could see what was happening with the two love-making adults.  We just had to listen to the act from the floor, the woman's bra landing near us and the man's clothing quickly following suit.  Even his tie absolutely dwarfed our thong body...

Lacey was finally calming down now that we weren't in constant motion, although she certainly wasn't thrilled about the sticky fluids slowly drying into our fabric.  Neither was I, but I was choosing to deal with things more silently.  No use complaining about things out loud when my girlfriend/bodymate was the only one who would ever hear me.  Besides, we would have plenty of time to talk and complain.  We DID wish to be together FOREVER, after all.

We ended up hanging on the back of the heel on the floor for the rest of the night, the Hispanic couple having long since retreated to their bedroom for the night, which catches us up to where we are now.  Lacey's still whining about our situation (and the drying vaginal fluid), while I'm trying to get her to be quieter.  I imagine the couple is going at it again in their room, but they're not close enough to us where we can hear them.

Here we hang, in silence and slowly dimming light as the sun sets, nothing but a lacey scarlet thong containing the souls of two college girlfriends fittingly named Lacey and Scarlet.  I guess we'll be thrown in the washing machine tomorrow morning with a bunch of other clothes, then we'll sit in the woman's underwear drawer until she feels frisky enough to wear us again.  If we're lucky, maybe we'll pick up a bit of Spanish before we wear out?  Only time will tell...

Amalgamation 3/31: Window to the Mouth

 

A Regressed Society: A Rewarded Otaku

 

Karmic Justice

 

Unexpectedly Content

 

There once was a time when I would introduce myself by my identity and situation:  "Hi, my name is Esther, I'm 16 years old, and I'm an orphan."  I wasn't exactly an orphan, but I had been adopted by abusive people who only wanted me for the tax deductions they could get.  I refused to call them my parents.

My only friend, Shirley, offered to save me from my situation after I came to school with a broken arm and a black eye.  She had shown me her magical potential before, when she turned a squirrel into a bracelet she tried to give me (I refused because my parents would've taken it away and destroyed it).  The only spell she knew at the time to help me would come with consequences.

Shirley told me the conditions of the spell beforehand.  After it was cast, my soul would be placed inside a random piece of clothing in her family's house.  The chances I would end up belonging to her were astronomically high.  She asked me at least a dozen times if I was okay with this, knowing there were no guarantees or take backs.  I said yes every single time without a second thought.  I couldn't stay with my so-called 'family' until they eventually threw me out onto the streets.  I accepted the possible consequences, and passed out as my only friend cast the spell that changed my life forever.

--------------------------------

Shirley's assumption was solid in theory.  She did, in fact, have the most clothes out of anyone in her family.  I should've ended up somewhere in her wardrobe, whether it was as a blouse, bra, or bobby pin.

Neither of us could've predicted me becoming a bright red polo for her little brother, Alex.  I can only assume what Shirley's going through having lost her best friend, as I don't really see her too often.  She was never going to know what I became anyway.

I stayed there, motionless, on the white plastic hanger supporting my entire weight for two weeks.  The entire time, I dreaded the day Alex would finally wear me.  What would it feel like to have his tiny 7-year-old body giving me form?  I hung in not-so-eager anticipation as he chose shirts other than me to wear to church on those two long Sundays.  Finally, on the third Sunday after Shirley cast her spell trapping me in this fabric body, it happened.  I felt Alex's little fingers roughly pulling me off of my hanger, throwing me carelessly onto his bed.  I watched as he stripped out of his pajamas in front of me, completely unaware he had an unwilling audience.  He put on clean underwear and pulled on a pair of tan khaki shorts.

Finally, with an odd look of disdain, he roughly grabbed me, pulling me over his head, stretching out my neck hole in the process.  He let my body fall around his skinny torso, where I would spend the rest of the day staring out at the world from his chest, where my sight was coming from.  Looking in the mirror, I decided the bright red fabric I had become made him look... adorably handsome?  He proceeded to leave his bedroom to meet his family at the dining room table to eat breakfast, quickly shoving my sight into the bottom of Shirley's blouse as he gave my old friend a fast, reluctant hug after she fixed my collar.  Alex went through his day with me as a little passenger hanging from his shoulders.

You know what?  I loved every second of being worn.  I loved the feeling of his body heat warming me up from the inside.  His actions throughout the day gave me much-needed motion after hanging completely still for so long.  Most of all, I relished in being able to see the world outside his closet again.  Being able to see my old friend's family, albeit from a new perspective.

That night, Alex pulled me back over his head, throwing me on his bedroom floor.  I had to watch him strip down further to get ready for bed as his warmth quickly left my fabric, leaving me to lie cold and lifeless through the night.  The next morning, he carelessly stepped on me on his way to his closet to pick out a normal T-shirt for the day.  I stayed on his floor, being slowly buried by his other dirty clothes, for two whole weeks before his mother finally told him to put them in the laundry basket.  I was roughly thrown into the washing machine with other colored dirty clothes - I recognized one of Shirley's favorite tank tops that I wouldn't have minded becoming - and sat there as it filled with soapy water.  As I was thrown around in the dark, I decided that this crazy roller coaster ride was at least better than being buried in little boys' dirty socks and underwear.  Afterward, even being tumble-dried in the drier wasn't too bad, as it left me feeling clean and, most importantly, warm.  I was finally taken out, sorted into Alex's clothes pile, slipped onto a plastic hanger, and finally hung back up in his closet to await being worn again.

The bad news?  I haven't been worn again since.  I'm easily Alex's least favorite nice shirt to wear.  The only reason he wore me that time was because he was told to.  Time and time again, he picks shirts that aren't me, robbing me of warmth and motion.  Even worse, I have to put up with feeling his actual favorite polo rubbing against my back whenever he picks it to wear most Sundays.

I certainly don't look forward to the day the weather turns, making it too cold for him to wear short-sleeved shirts like myself.  I can't bear the thought of hanging in his closet motionless for so many months in a row as he slowly grows out of me.  He's already picked me as the first shirt he wants to sell.  I probably only have another year at most to be worn by him again before I'm sold at a garage sale to some kid I've never seen before, taking me away from Shirley once and for all.  Just wear me already!

Unorthodox Witch 4 (ending)

 

Unorthodox Witch 3

 

Unorthodox Witch 2

 

Unorthodox Witch 1