Shopping Mall The Remote of Transformation chapter 6 by deleted_user

The mall was packed for a Saturday afternoon, but the moment the three of them stepped through the doors, heads turned like someone had fired a starter pistol.

Vince couldn’t stop fidgeting. Every sway of his hips sent those massive tits bouncing. He kept one arm crossed under his chest, trying (and failing) to support the weight.

Brandon was in heaven. “First stop: lingerie. We need foundations, darling. Those girls deserve better than flapping around like that.”

Inside the brightly lit store, soft pink lighting and lace everywhere, Vince’s eyes went wide. Mannequins posed in tiny bras and thongs that looked like they’d snap under Farrah Fuxx-level curves.

“No way,” Vince hissed, voice coming out as a sultry whisper that made the sales associate glance over. “I’m not trying on that shit in public.”

“You are, and you’ll like it,” Brandon sang, already grabbing armfuls of hangers. “Start with this—” He shoved a lacy black balconette bra and matching thong at Vince. “—and this red push-up that’ll make your cleavage look illegal. Oh, and the sheer babydoll. For science.”

Paul hovered near the entrance like a nervous security guard, remote burning a hole in his pocket. “Guys, maybe we should—”

“Shush, Paul. Carry these.” Brandon dumped three more sets into Paul’s arms and marched Vince toward the fitting rooms.

Inside the spacious stall, Vince stripped with a string of muttered curses. The hoodie came off first, freeing his enormous breasts. They dropped heavily, settling with a soft wobble that made him groan. “Jesus… they’re so fucking heavy. And sensitive. Every little movement—”

He caught his reflection and froze. Farrah Fuxx stared back—platinum hair tousled, pouty lips parted, bare tits perfect teardrops with puffy pink nipples already hard. Below, a smooth, puffy pussy with a little landing strip of blonde hair. His new clit peeked out slightly, visibly swollen.

“Fuck me…” Vince whispered, then immediately regretted the word choice as a warm trickle of arousal slicked his inner thighs.

Brandon’s voice floated over the door. “How’s the first one, bestie?”

Vince struggled into the black balconette. The bra barely contained him—his tits overflowed the cups dramatically, creating deep, soft cleavage that jiggled with every breath. The thong disappeared between his fat ass cheeks, the front panel hugging his puffy mound and making the outline of his clit obscenely visible.

He stepped out, cheeks burning.

Brandon’s eyes widened in delight. “Yes. Holy yes. Look at that rack! Spin for me.”

Vince spun reluctantly. The motion made his breasts bounce--but less so, now that they were supported--and his ass cheeks clap softly. A tiny whimper escaped before he could stop it.

“God, I hate how good that feels,” Vince grumbled, but his new nipples were diamond-hard and his thighs were pressing together. “It’s like my pussy’s got a mind of its own. Keep staring and I might actually—”

Brandon waved a hand. “Annoying horniness aside, you look incredible. Next—the red push-up.”

Outfit after outfit followed. A sheer white babydoll that made Vince’s dark nipples clearly visible. A cupless bra that left his tits completely exposed while framing them like a gift. Tiny thongs that rode up and teased his clit with every shift. Brandon kept up a running commentary: “Tighter on the straps—yes, more underboob. That one makes your ass look like it’s begging to be spanked. Perfect, now the schoolgirl skirt with the crop top—no, the micro one. We’re going full slut-chic today.”

By the fourth change, Vince was flushed, breathing heavier, one hand unconsciously cupping a breast while he adjusted the latest thong. “Brandon… this is fucked. I’m dripping. Like, actually dripping down my leg. If I don’t get out of here soon I’m gonna—”

Paul, waiting outside with the growing pile of bags, finally poked his head in. “Everything okay? You’ve been in there forever.”

Vince poked his head out too, blonde hair messy, wearing nothing but the red push-up bra (tits spilling everywhere) and a tiny denim skirt that barely covered his ass. His voice came out breathy and irritated. “Peachy. Just trying not to finger myself in a public fitting room because this body’s a nympho. Happy now?”

Brandon grinned, holding up one more hanger—a tiny pink string bikini. “One more. Then we hit shoes. And maybe makeup. You’re going to be the hottest girl in the food court.”

Vince glared, equal parts furious and shamefully turned on by all the attention and the constant teasing sensations. His new pussy clenched again at the thought of walking around the mall like this.