The Djinni Bra
a short story by Dan Standing
Tracy could not help but giggle as she threw her bag onto the bed. She’d had another successful day down at the resell store – although they certainly hadn’t. A proud shoplifter, Tracy could feel the frilly panties under her skirt sticking to her very moist pussy. She’d managed to pocket quite a few items this time.
Kicking off her sneakers, Tracy let her skirt shimmy down to her feet. She left on the panties – their dark stain on the light blue fabric was a badge of honor. A swift motion pulled off her t-shirt, and she unhooked her bra. The blonde’s grapefruit-sized tits rolled free, hanging out into the air with very hard and puckered nipples.
Thin hands ruffled the golden locks tickling her shoulders, and Tracy took stock of herself. She had a toned and athletic body, which had treated her well all those times she’d had to run from security guards. If she had one complaint about her form it was that her ass wasn’t quite as filled out as her bust. Her hips were just barely wider than her waist, which made Tracy’s silhouette more of a hammer than an hourglass.
Tired of looking at herself, the lithe thief padded over to her bag. A number of items were stuffed into it, covered over with fast food wrappers. There was one thing in particular Tracy was eager to try, and she fished it out first.
The free swinging that Tracy’s breasts had been enjoying was put to an end as she pulled the unique brassiere over her head. It was clearly one of those comfort bras, made entirely of stretching fabric and lacking any underwire or other stiff items to poke at boobs or ribs. But it was also lavishly decorated, with fabric loops and embedded plastic jewels. Tracy’s breasts barely fit in it, the fabric squashing them under her arms and up towards her chin.
Tracy didn’t care about the fit. As she stood admiring her mostly naked and barefoot body her pussy dripped another layer of moisture into her panties. She was so pleased she’d gotten away with her theft. Tracy struck a little pose, one hand on the hem of her soaked panties, the other holding one of her breasts. She let her eyes linger over herself for another moment.
Finally, as a little trickle was starting to work its way down Tracy’s thigh, she decided it was time to put on something else. She tried to turn back towards the bed, but found that her body would not respond. She could lift neither leg, nor move either hand. She was completely frozen in place.
What the fuck is going on? rang through Tracy’s mind, her eyes – still able to swivel in their sockets – running frantically up and down her body. Was she having a stroke? Had she pinched some nerve in her back when she posed? What is going on?
One thing that was becoming clear was that internally Tracy’s body was not matching her thoughts. Desperately wheezing breathing and cold sweets should have been washing through her; but the breathing was still the calm, heavy breaths she’d been taking while staring at herself, and her pussy was still very active. In fact, during the time since she’d realized she couldn’t move a larger drip of her pussy juices had pushed down nearly to her knee.
Suddenly Tracy felt her panties shifting. Looking down at her reflection she saw the fabric rippling, undulating around her waist. The movement was putting pressure on her very flushed clit and labia, and Tracy could feel her face flush with the building arousal.
An itching in her feet brought the frozen woman’s eyes down from the top of her sockets. Glaring into the mirror Tracy thought she could see her toes and ankles…fading? It wasn’t until her entire body started to slowly lower towards the floor that Tracy believed what she was seeing. Her legs had already dissipated into a strange mist, and her legs were following. The pink haze that had once been her flesh and bone hovered along the carpet as Tracy’s knees were lost to it. The experience wasn’t painful – in fact, Tracy could feel herself getting more and more turned on.
Soon her thighs had been lost to the cloud that was getting larger and larger around her. As her panties touched the ground, Tracy watched as the fabric finally transitioned to a material more like porcelain. As their shape shifted from underwear to something more like a bottle the mist that had once been Tracy’s legs was pulled inside before the leg holes sealed up. What had once been light blue panties with white lace was now a light blue bottle with a white lace pattern.
As it changed into Tracy’s new home the woman’s body had continued to transform into the heavy smoke. Tracy had wanted to cry out it extreme sexual desperation as her pussy was taken by the misting, the sensation of her wet snatch spreading out amongst the rest of her body already inside the bottle that had been her panties. Tracy’s form continued to change, but now her body was lowered into the spout as flesh became gas. Her horniness was becoming more and more intense as more of her body mixed with what had been her slit.
The loss of her breasts to the bottle only intensified Tracy’s sexual anguish. As they lost their solidity the pilfered bra fell from Tracy’s body and rested around the bottle in a ring. It was only moments before Tracy’s arms, head, and hair were absorbed with the rest of her. The theif was fully trapped inside the blue bottle, a percelain stopper seperating from the rest of the bottle’s material. The woman’s entire being was saturated with a need to cum, but she no longer had any physical body with which to bring herself to satisfaction.
This would be the case until someone found Tracy and released her. The Djinni Bra had done its job, transforming a woman into a genie that fit with how she was after wearing the bra for a few moments. She’d been dressed in only panties, and had been exceptionally horny. As a genie, Tracy would spend the rest of eternity only able to cover her crotch, and perpetually horny.
Of course, she didn’t know that yet. As the Djinna Bra vanished in a little poof Tracy could not help but resolved to fuck senseless the first person who released her from this unbearable prison of pending pleasure.