Izumi looked her charge over, mentally preparing a to-do list for Ranko’s first real foray into feminine presentation. “Okay. Let’s start with the basics. I couldn’t help but notice that you don’t usually wear a bra.” She had no doubt that some of the bar’s patrons had noticed, too, and she didn’t much like the way it made some of them look at her family’s new teenage ward. “Do you not want to, or do you just not have any?”
The redhead hung her head a bit in her embarrassment. “I left home with basically the clothes on my back.” It was the most effective way she could think of to say “why not both?” without betraying her utter lack of feminine experience. Her eyes were filled with shame, not just at her lack of appropriate undergarments, but also at the destitute state she had been in when Hana and the girls had rescued her from her own brash stupidity.
Izumi gave a sage nod, looking around the mall from the junction between aisles to look for an appropriate store. “Okay. That’s easy enough to fix. Do you know your size?”
Ranko shook her head in response, frowning in dismay as if she’d just failed a quiz. “I’ve… never had one before.”
Izumi nodded. Whoo. Okay. We’re really starting from ground zero, huh? Gods, how did this poor girl get through school? “Okay. That’s easy enough to find out. We’ll start there! C’mon. There’s a store around here I really like for this sort of thing, and the staff is really great. They can give us a hand.” She reached down for Ranko’s hand, and the tremulous redhead teen took it cautiously. With a slight tug and a reassuring squeeze, Izumi encouraged her to rise to her feet from the planter she was seated on.
Izumi began leading Ranko toward a nearby shop in the indoor mall. She stepped through the open glass door of a smallish store, leading the young redhead past several racks of dresses and feminine tee shirts to a section that seemed to deal exclusively with women’s unmentionables. Everywhere she looked, headless and armless mannequins modeled bras of every style and description, with metal racks hanging from the slatted walls loaded with bras - each containing the same style in a variety of sizes. Here and there, a glossy white display was positioned with a mannequin atop it, its sides loaded with dozens of drawers full of panties to match the bras showcased nearby. The store was immaculately clean and well-lit, with everything classily and tastefully displayed, but Ranko still felt like she was entering a strip club full of landmines.
Ranko’s stomach turned. It’s okay, she tried to coax herself in her mind. I’m not being a pervert by looking at this stuff, whatever Akane might say if she saw me right now. I’m a girl now, and girls need this kind of stuff. It ain’t like I’m trying to be that old freak and hoarding girly underpants and shit to get off; I just don’t want people looking at my tits like there’s something wrong with ‘em.
“Okay, what do we do?” Ranko took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as she prepared herself for an adventure.
Izumi smiled softly, trying to will a measure of confidence into her protégé. “Okay, so we need to figure out your size. To do that, we need to get you measured. Normally, the shop clerks help with that. They’ll have you, ya know, pull your boobs out, and they’ll take two measurements, one around the middle of ‘em and one under them. The under measurement is the number on the size, and the around measurement determines the letter. So, a B70 and a D70 have the same body size, but the D has bigger breasts. Make sense?”
Ranko nodded, swallowing hard as her cheeks warmed. “So, I have to get… undressed, then?” Feminine modesty had never really been much of a consideration for her before, but the vulnerability of her new permanent state had given her a new perspective on such things.
Izumi smiled reassuringly, giving her companion’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Yep, but they do it in one of those private booths there. You ready?”
Ranko swallowed hard again, her gaze falling on the beige door of the fitting room as if it were the front gate of hell. “As I’m gonna be, I guess.”
Izumi took her hand and led her to the counter, waving down a twenty-something shop girl who was doing a word search with the tiniest nub of a pencil. “Hello, good afternoon! Can you help us, please? My little sister needs a hand getting her bra measurements.”
Ranko waved sheepishly. She didn’t know if she’d ever stop blushing at being called anybody’s little sister, but it certainly hadn’t happened yet.
The clerk put her puzzle down, picking up a fabric measuring tape from a drawer behind the counter. “Sure thing! C’mon, hon.” She slipped down to her feet from her stool and motioned Ranko toward one of the fitting rooms. Ranko looked back to Izumi as if seeking rescue, but got nothing more than a reassuring smile as Izumi took her new purse from her to hold.
The brown-haired clerk, whose name tag read Taiko, closed and locked the fitting room door behind them after Ranko had timidly entered the little booth. “Alrighty. Let’s pull down your dress just a bit, okay?”
Ranko shrunk a little tentatively, turning her back to the clerk and starting to slide her arms out of her sleeves. She shivered visibly as it slid down her body, goosebumps forming all over her sensitive skin at the additional exposure to the air conditioning vent directly overhead. Ranko’s eyes never left the floor; the last thing she wanted was to look at herself in the full-length mirror mounted to the fitting room wall and watch as a stranger fiddled with her naked bosom.
Taiko reached around her with the measuring tape, tucking it under her breasts and calling out a number. She then wrapped it again, this time around the thickest part of Ranko’s bosom. The redhead bit her tongue, shivering as the cold fabric of the measuring tape flicked against her bare nipples. Keep it together, Cat’s Tongue! Fuck! Ranko was grateful that Izumi had warned her what to expect, or the poor woman might have gotten herself clocked.
“Okay, all done, you can pull your dress back up now, hon.” Taiko gave her a gentle pat on her shoulder, and Ranko gratefully complied. “Alright, let’s show you what we’ve got in your size.” The clerk opened the stall door and led the diminutive redhead to a wall rack, motioning to a row of wall pegs and three drawers. “These are going to be what you need.” Izumi caught up with the pair, taking note of the size Taiko had indicated.
“Thank you!” Ranko managed a smile, despite being both embarrassed and nervous as hell. Not a pervert. Just a girl. This is normal. At least, it’s supposed to be. Don’t make it weird. They’ll only know it’s weird for me if I let them see it, and if I do, it’ll just embarrass Izumi.
Taiko walked off to return to her crossword, and Izumi knelt carefully on the floor so she could more easily rummage through the drawers. “Okay. Like the purse, we probably want to start you off with some neutral colors that go with everything.” She withdrew a fairly basic black bra, with a small white bow attached to the bottom band. “Here, this isn’t too over the top.” Digging a little further, she pulled out another, this one a pastel pink with more of a lacy design. “This one’s nice for when you want something a little more fun. We can’t be entirely practical, now, can we?”
Ranko took them in her trembling hands, and one of the straps popped loose from the pink one just behind the left cup.“Aww, damn it! I broke it!”
Izumi looked up and giggled, shaking her head a bit. The poor thing. She’s terrified, but it’s adorable. “No, honey, let me show you.” Standing, Izumi took the undergarment from her young charge and unhooked the other end of the strap from the bra. As Ranko watched, she reconnected it by slipping the plastic hook at its end back through a pastel pink fabric loop. “This is so if you’re wearing something where your shoulders aren’t covered, you can wear it without straps. It’s a little less supportive that way, but it’s a necessity for certain outfits.”
Ranko nodded slowly. She couldn’t help but feel like she should be taking notes.
“Let’s see, one more should give you a decent variety to get started. How about this?” Izumi reached back down to the open drawer, handing up a white bra that was identical to the black one, but with the colors inverted. “You’ll want something in light colors so it doesn’t show through when you wear lighter shirts and dresses.”
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Ranko gave another bewildered nod. At that moment, she felt that it might be easier to learn how to land a rocket on Mars than to dress properly like a girl.
Izumi flashed the redhead a proud smile, watching her young apprentice process the information she was receiving. “Okay, that sorts that. Do you need bottoms?”
Ranko squinted for a moment, then blushed as she processed what her new sister was referring to. She means panties. Girls’ underwear. Oh, fuck. She’d only worn actual girls’ underthings once or twice. She hid her face behind her hand and bobbed her head slightly, more than a bit humiliated to have to answer Izumi’s question in the affirmative.
The brunette gave an easy smile. “Okay! No problem. Fortunately, bottoms are easier. We know you fit in my clothes,” she said with a wave of her hand over Ranko’s borrowed white dress, “so it’s fair to guess you wear the same size I do. By the way - if you like that dress, you’re welcome to keep it!”
The younger girl’s face all but caught fire. It’s white. It’s lace and it’s got flowers all over it. I probably look like I’m freaking getting married. But… it’s… it’s comfortable, not too itchy, and… She glanced at one of the many mirrors dotted throughout the store. I guess I do look nice in it. And besides, it’s special now - it’s the first thing I ever wore as a real girl. On Ranko’s - my - first real birthday. She gave Izumi a sheepish nod and a bright smile, shocking herself with how sincere it felt.
Izumi led Ranko to a wire bin across the narrow aisle, reaching down into it and picking up two transparent plastic bags containing six pairs each of relatively simple cotton panties in assorted colors. “Here, this’ll be enough to get you a good start. Oh! Almost forgot! One more thing.” She walked back over to the bra section, opening a drawer near the ones she had chosen the garments in Ranko’s hand from. She drew out a pair of light pink lace panties that were a perfect match for the bra she picked out before, complete with a tiny white bow on the waistband just below where the wearer’s navel would be. “Here. For everyday stuff, you can do whatever’s clean and comfortable, but when you want to feel extra cute, you’ve gotta be able to have a matching set.” Izumi gave her sister a bright smile.
Ranko could tell Izumi was really enjoying the experience. As for Ranko herself, she was – well, she was trying to. She couldn’t imagine a scenario where she would care to be extra cute in her underwear, but thought it better not to push back.
“Do you like this stuff? You don’t have to go with things just because I picked them.” Izumi smiled reassuringly at her new little sister.
Ranko looked around the racks, trying to see if anything else appealed to her. She still felt dirty just standing in the little shop holding the growing pile of women’s unmentionables. The majority of the times she had ever touched a bra or a pair of panties had involved retrieving them from Happosai’s hoard for their owners. “I mean, it’s new to me, but I’m trying to keep an open mind.” Ranko blushed shyly, brushing her hair out of her face.
“Okay. Let’s get these checked out, and then you can put something on now - if you want, that is.” Izumi took the armful of items back from her companion. Ranko hung back as Izumi darted to the checkout counter, returning in a few moments with a bag and a receipt.
“Okay. Do you want to get changed now, or wait?”
Ranko looked over the pink paper bag with a measure of trepidation. Izumi did just buy the stuff for me; I’d hate to seem ungrateful. She reached for the twine handles of the little sack, taking it from Izumi and heading back toward the unlocked fitting room where she’d been measured. Removing her dress with slightly tremulous fingers, she looked at herself in the mirror, wearing nothing but her shoes and her ever-present yellow boxers. She had to admit, the overall look did feel kind of ridiculous.
She looked in the bag, debating what to choose. Her eyes landed on the pink bra. It wouldn’t have been my first choice, she thought to herself, but Izumi is working super hard to cute me up, so I should probably play along. She slipped off her boxers and pulled the matching pastel panties up over her legs. The slippery slither of the satin, coupled with the slight scratch of the lace trim against her hypersensitive skin, sent another not-unpleasant shiver up her spine.
Now, for the bra. Moment of truth, Ranm… Ranko. She picked up the pink undergarment and wrapped it around herself, reaching behind her back and fumbling for the hooks. What idiot designed these things to latch in the back where you can’t see what you’re doing?
Izumi had just taken a seat in a padded chair outside the fitting room when she heard a loud thud against the stall door.
“Dammit!”
Another clumsy thump echoed from the rattling door of the stall as Ranko bumped into it again, flailing her arms behind herself in her futile battle with the brassiere.
Izumi stifled a giggle. It’s not nice to laugh at her just because she hasn’t had the opportunity to learn these things before, she mentally admonished herself. “Ranko, honey,” she said quietly to avoid embarrassing the poor kid, “... do you need a hand?”
A few seconds of silence, followed by another, quieter thud, came from the stall. After a few more moments, a defeated voice mumbled from behind the door. “... yes, please?”
Izumi heard the door lock unlatch and quickly stepped in, closing and re-locking the door behind her. She could tell from Ranko’s face that she was truly mortified to be in her current state, especially in front of another girl. “Hey…” Izumi gently rested her hand on Ranko’s left shoulder.
Ranko looked away, down into the corner of the little booth, her face painted with shame.
“Hey!” Izumi’s more insistent tone got Ranko’s attention, and the redhead’s eyes snapped up to hers with a tinge of fear in them. “What did we talk about? There’s no need to be embarrassed. Every single girl has struggled with this the first few times. Every. Last. One.” She gave Ranko a gentle hug of reassurance, and felt the smaller girl shiver in her arms. Ranko must have been cold, she thought – she definitely could never have fathomed the effect that the Full Body Cat’s Tongue pressure point would have on her bare nipples brushing against the faux fur trim of Izumi’s coat.
Releasing the slender redhead, Izumi continued. “Can I show you a trick to help?”
Ranko nodded emphatically, her face afire from both her humiliation and the overwhelming physical sensation that had rocketed through her a moment before.
Izumi spun the strap around on the younger girl’s body such that the clasps now joined in front of her, just under her breasts. “Look, now we can see what we’re working with. Go ahead and clip them on whatever row of hooks is most comfortable.” As Ranko complied, she continued. “Great, now we can spin it around to the back, and then all we have to do is put our arms through the straps, and voila!”
The redhead shook her head – she couldn’t believe it was that simple, and she’d made it so complex purely through her intimidation. I must really look like an idiot right now. She looked at the full-length mirror in the dressing stall, and she had to admit, Izumi was right. She was, in fact, pretty cute in the matching underwear. For a real girl, anyway. Which I totally, really am, she reminded herself again.
As Ranko blushed at the sight of her own reflection, Izumi leaned over her shoulder so her face could be seen in the mirror. “Not bad, huh?”
Ranko shook her head, a little shell-shocked.
“C’mon, get dressed! We’ve got more stops to make.” Izumi reached down to the little shelf seat in the booth, handing her companion the white lace dress she’d gifted her.
Ranko threw the dress over her shoulders and pulled it back into place. She checked herself out in the mirror once more, quite surprised at what a difference her new undergarments made in her shape even through her clothes. She didn’t look like a boy in a dress anymore, and she didn’t feel like she was cross-dressing like she always had in the past. She was just a girl, and a pretty one at that. She adjusted the bow clipped in her hair, which had been knocked slightly askew when she put her dress back on. “Good?”
Izumi looked her over, an approving smile forming on her lips. “You bet. Let’s go, gorgeous.” She stepped out of the stall, carrying the pink paper shopping bag.
Ranko looked down at the floor, where her yellow boxers lay at her feet. She picked them up, looking at them contemplatively for a moment before dropping them into the small pink trash can in the corner of the stall and following Izumi.