Shiori sat at the dining table pushing rice around her plate while her mother chatted about neighborhood gossip. Every time she leaned forward, her heavy breasts pressed against the edge of the table, a constant, distracting reminder of how much her body had changed. The blouse she had thrown on after the shower felt tighter than it should.
"You look a little flushed, sweetie," her mom said, tilting her head. "Are you sure it's just your stomach? You've been glowing lately. The boys at school must be going crazy."
Shiori nearly choked on her tea. "Mom… it's nothing like that."
Her mother smiled knowingly and cleared the dishes. "Well, rest up today. Don't push yourself."
Back in her room, Shiori closed the door and let out a long breath. The memory of the shower still made her thighs clench. That intense wave of pleasure had left her legs weak and her mind foggy.
One orgasm and I'm already acting weird. I can't let this body control me. I need to learn how to act like a normal girl before I embarrass myself in front of everyone.
She sat at the small vanity table and opened her phone. Searching "beginner makeup tutorial for school" brought up dozens of videos. She watched carefully, then started experimenting.
The foundation felt cool and smooth to the touch on her flawless skin. The blush gave her cheeks a natural-looking flush. When she put on her shiny pink lipstick, her full lips looked even more inviting. The eyeliner was the hardest to apply. Her hands were shaky, and she had to wipe away several messy attempts.
Looking at the finished result in the mirror, she barely recognized herself. The girl staring back was stunning, with soft sparkling eyes and a face that could stop traffic.
This is too much. If I go to school looking like this, Miura and the others will either hate me or try to use me. And the guys…
She stood up and practiced walking. Smaller steps, hips not swinging so much. She tried sitting on the bed with her knees together like a proper girl, then flipping her long black hair over one shoulder. Each movement felt exaggerated and unnatural, yet the mirror showed a graceful, feminine motion.
"This is ridiculous," she muttered, voice soft and melodic. "I sound like one of those idol girls."
Next came the closet. She pulled out outfit after outfit. A white blouse paired with a navy skirt looked innocent enough until she buttoned it — the fabric stretched across her massive chest, creating deep cleavage no matter how she adjusted it. Jeans hugged her wide hips and thick thighs so tightly she could see the outline of her ass in the mirror. A casual summer dress clung to every curve, the hem barely reaching mid-thigh.
She changed multiple times, each new combination making her blush harder. Bras were the worst part — hooking them behind her back took forever, and once fastened they lifted and pressed her breasts together, making them look even larger.
How do girls deal with these every day? They're so heavy… and sensitive.
After almost an hour of trying things on, she decided she needed proper clothes that actually fit without turning every movement into a show.
I'll go shopping. Just a quick trip to the mall near home. Test how people react to Shiori. If it's too much, I can come straight back.
She chose what felt safest: a simple white blouse, a knee-length navy skirt, and a light cardigan to cover some of her chest. Flat shoes completed the look. Taking one last look in the mirror, she whispered, "You can do this. Just act normal."
The moment she stepped outside the house, the world felt different. Neighbors walking by did double takes. A group of college guys waiting at the bus stop openly stared, one of them nudging his friend. Shiori kept her head down, but she could feel their eyes tracing the sway of her hips and the way her blouse stretched.
They're not looking at the fat loser anymore.
They're looking at… me. This body is dangerous.
The short walk to the mall felt endless. Inside the air-conditioned building it was slightly better, but shop assistants still smiled a little too brightly, and several men turned their heads as she passed.
She was browsing a makeup counter when a familiar voice called out.
"Shiori-chan! Is that you?"
Hina waved enthusiastically from a few meters away, carrying a small paper bag. She looked fresh and kind as always, her school skirt neat and her smile genuine.
"Hina… you took the day off too?" Shiori asked, surprised at how naturally the words came out.
"Yeah, my head was hurting this morning. What about you?"
"Stomach… I wasn't feeling great." Shiori managed a small smile. It felt strange — Hina was talking to her like a close friend, not the pitiful fat boy she used to comfort.
Hina's eyes lit up. "Great! Let's shop together then. I need new lip tint and I saw some cute tops on sale. Come on!"
Before Shiori could protest, Hina linked arms with her and pulled her toward the clothing section. They spent the next hour moving between stores. Hina helped pick shades of lipstick and mascara, chatting easily about classes and upcoming tests. In the fitting rooms they took turns.
Shiori struggled with a fitted blouse. Her breasts made buttoning difficult, and when she stepped out, Hina tilted her head appreciatively.
"Wow, Shiori, that really suits you. Your figure is amazing. But maybe try one size up? Your chest is… quite generous."
Shiori's face burned. "Y-yeah… it's a bit tight."
They tried on skirts and dresses together. Every time Shiori turned or bent, the fabric clung to her round ass and thick thighs. Hina kept complimenting her, completely unaware of the internal panic.
She used to feel sorry for Tanaka. Now she's treating me like we've been best friends forever.
This feels so wrong… but also kind of nice.
She and Hina purchased a few things: new makeup, hair clips, and tops. Next, they went to a quiet café and had strawberry milkshakes. Seated across from each other, the girls took a cute picture of the two of them. Shiori looked awkwardly happy, and Hina looked radiantly happy as their faces were close in the picture. The picture showed two beautiful girls enjoying their day off.
As the sun began to set, they decided to go home via the crowded metro. The train was filled with salarymen and schoolchildren coming home from work and school. Shiori and Hina stood near the doors, holding onto the straps.
The car swayed with every turn.
Shiori noticed a shady-looking man in his late thirties standing uncomfortably close to Hina.
He kept glancing down at Hina's legs, shifting closer whenever the train jerked. Old instincts flared up — the same protective feeling Tanaka had always had toward the only person who was kind to him.
Without thinking, Shiori stepped between them, using her own body as a shield.
No way I'm letting some creep bother her.
The train lurched around a sharp curve. The man didn't move back. Instead, his hand brushed against Shiori's round, firm ass through the skirt. Then it stayed there, fingers pressing more deliberately, squeezing lightly.
Shiori's eyes widened in shock. A jolt ran through her body.
The man's touch grew bolder as the train continued to sway.