By dawn’s next light, Naru’s room was a complete mess. Paper sketches strewn about every surface showing a wide variety of outfits. One was a schoolgirl’s outfit, with a white blouse and rather short skirt. A large X was put through it, and a note read “Too similar to the Sailors”. Another had a French maid’s outfit, and it had hastily scribbled lines all throughout. The note on this one read “a bit awkward to fight in, maybe not that simple to flash tits for full effect”.
It was the same thing over and over again with too many outfits to count. Scribbled through, scored out for any of a number of reasons. A cheerleader’s uniform was deemed cliche, a police officer’s uniform could be construed as insulting legitimate law enforcement, and come to it the same was true for nurses and the like.
Naru had fallen asleep at her desk with a makeshift blanket of paper sketches and makeshift pillows that were attached to her chest. A stray beam of early morning light passed through the curtains and shone across her face, forcing Naru to squint and then reluctantly open her eyes to greet the new day.
She rose and stretched, then looked around the room with half-lidded eyes while unconsciously rubbing and playing with her massive, perfect breasts. Naru shook her head and bit her lip when a very small orgasm ripped through her body. Her room was in such a dreadful state! And still! No closer to the answer she had set about trying to determine last night! What in the world should her uniform look like?
Certain traits were absolutely necessary, no question of it. She had to have her cleavage exposed in some manner. Which meant a pretty low neckline, or a cut-out section down the middle, or something. It also had to be easy to remove, in case she needed to show off the full power of her perfect titnotising boobs. That much was mandatory, otherwise the main weapon in her arsenal was simply not that useful.
Naru bit her lip. The whole deal about changing her clothes with titnosis had sounded really awesome, but the uniform aspect was proving to be quite a significant challenge. It had to be something they could use to make a statement. “We’re sick of these attacks, and now we’re fighting back!” That sort of thing. Trouble was she wasn’t exactly a fashion expert or anything like that. She was just an ordinary girl with an extraordinary ability -
“Oh, duh!” she exclaimed, slapping herself on the forehead. “If I’m not a fashion expert, then I should probably try - Ya know - <i>asking</i> a fashion expert!” She hefted her breasts and moaned from the pleasure. “It’s hardly like they’ll be able to refuse helping a cute girl like me!”
<hr>
Humans were so stupid. Take this fashion club, as a prime example. Here they were, a bunch of stupid kids fascinated enough by fashion to spend their spare time on it, and they wind up little more than slaves to the theatrical club. “Make this costume!” “No, no, do it again!” “That’s not the design we agreed on!” and so on and on it went.
His observation had indicated there was a certain societal pecking order in play. At the top were the athletically gifted. Below that, anyone capable of drawing in money for the school, in the order of likelihood of financial success. A fashion club could presumably sell their wares, for certain. But it was the theatrical productions that would be more likely to pull in the bigger share of money. Humans placed such an emphasis on things like entertainment.
So here he was. Disguised as a human student, recently transferred in. He had joined the fashion club and stolen leadership within a week. He had explained these observations to them, exploited their dissatisfaction with the situation. They’d eaten right out of his hand. And now? Now they were providing him with no less than three opportunities to feed on three different kinds of energy: The resentment of the fashion club. The hard work of the theatrical club during their rehearsals and performance. The enjoyment of the audience, when they saw that end result.
A perfect little scheme. A one-off trick that only needed to be pulled that one time, and then off to places elsewhere. No pesky interruptions from girls in, frankly, very slutty apparel. The fetish schoolgirl look was not an intimidating impression to leave, but then again that was probably part of what made them so dangerous. They didn’t look even a tenth as dangerous as they actually were.
They would never find this scheme. Not in a million years! By the time anyone could even comprehend anything strange was going on, it would already be far, far too -
“Knock knock!”
He let out a weary sigh and looked at the clock. “Looks like they’ve come a bit early!” he said disapprovingly.
“Ugh!” another club member/meal ticket snarled. “You’re right. It would be just like them to send a lackey over to check up on us! We’re way ahead of schedule! They should just leave us alone! We’ll get it done faster that way.”
Attaboy. Let the rage flow right on out of you! Pour that energy into your work, and let it soak into the fabric of the clothes you are making. They would be done in no time flat, and my goodness, those were a rather spectacular pair of breasts underneath that uniform.
“Hi there!” said the girl attached to the breasts. She hopped on her heels and giggled, prompting a very interesting series of jiggles underneath the cloth that indicated rather strongly that she wasn’t wearing a bra. “Mind if I come inside for a moment?”
The monster blinked and, for reasons he didn’t understand entirely, swallowed rather nervously. The other club members peered around at the girl, and he could hear a few whispers. Idle human gossip about this girl. Naru Osaka, who had just suddenly turned up to school one day with an unnaturally enhanced bust. Well, the gossip didn’t really interest him all that much, but he had better humour her at the very least. It would mean getting rid of her a little bit quicker.
“Is there something we can help you with?” he asked, putting on his most charming smile. “Though I should warn you, we are rather occupied with the upcoming theatrical production, which does limit our time to make clothing for anyone else…”
“Oh, I don’t want you to make anything!” Naru replied, clasping her hands behind her back and rocking on her feet once again. That was so terribly distracting. “I was looking for some opinions on design, and I felt that you might be able to help me out.”
He chuckled and shrugged, then nervously scratched the back of his head for effect. “I wish I could help you, but like I said. I’m afraid we’re rather, uh, what are you doing?”
“Giving you a little… incentive,” Naru said. Suddenly, he realised that this was not exactly the standard uniform. It had a small modification to it. The little bow on the collar was not merely a decoration, it was in fact partly looped into the blouse and holding the two halves together. This fact became particularly apparent when the bow was undone and both halves slid right on open, revealing to the room -
Glory. In a word, that about summed it up. He could not tear his eyes away from them, and quickly lost the ability to care if he ever did. They filled his vision, filled his mind, filled his very being! He stared, and stared, and lost all track of time in staring with bated breath. He could tell without looking that the rest of the club was the same way as him, though their view was not so absolute as his.
“I want to become a superhero,” she explained. A statement like that would have made him try to kill her on the spot under normal circumstances. Instead, he found it completely charming. “But I need a name. An identity. A costume. It has to be something different to the Sailors, it has to show off my cleavage, and it has to allow me to flash these magnificent tits at a moment’s notice. Would a nice boy like you be able to arrange something like that?”
“Yes,” he said in a sleepy tone. “I can have it made by this time tomorrow if you like.”
“No. Don’t make it. Design it. Show me the designs. I’ll take care of the rest.”
“As you command,” he said, then spun on his heel and grabbed a sheet of paper without a second of hesitation. With his tongue sticking very slightly out of his mouth he drew upon the reserves of his own energy and the imaginations of the others in the room to assist him, constructing a sketch that was almost as real as a photograph. It beheld the goddess behind him wearing a domino mask that really didn’t cover an awful lot of her face. Not that anyone would be looking at her face.
To begin with, the shoes were sensible. High heels were about as useful in any given fight as they were in a marathon. So. Something a bit durable, something with a well-established balance was an absolute must. Lightweight as well.
The ability to move was also essential, and that was where he felt the Sailor Scouts really kind of fell flat in his opinion. Regardless of the fact they were wearing a leotard, any girl in a skirt that short is gonna be naturally hesitant to lift their legs or do anything too acrobatic. So. Shorts. Why would a superhero ever wear a skirt into combat? So impractical. Shorts rather than trousers to let the legs get a bit of air, and again ensure easy ability to move around.
And then the most crucial part of the ensemble. The requirements were a little bit strange, on reflection. But he would absolutely follow them to the letter. In this case, go for simplicity. A simple t-shirt would suffice. All she’d have to do was pull it up over her breasts, and they’d be bared to the world. It could easily have a low enough neckline to show off a little of her cleavage, and to make it easier to snare it would be better if it didn’t come close to covering her midriff.
All that really remained was a logo. Any good hero had a logo, something that marked them out as a unique identity. At least, that’s what the minds in the room were telling him. Well, in that case… It only seemed appropriate for a pair of letters to be drawn over both breasts: A pair of Ds over each. The name of the hero was written at the top of the paper. “Dutiful Defender” was a bit of a vague name, but for some reason, stepping back to look at it, the name sort of… Fit.
Naru took the paper and nodded. “Simple,” she said, walking over towards the mirror in the corner of the room. “But… It should work! Hold on. Let me try this out. Ahem. Could you all close your eyes for a moment? Thank you. By the power of my bountiful breasts, whenever you say the words ‘change into Dutiful Defender’, your clothes shall become this! Oh! Oh! Wow! That’s soooo cool! Okay! Um! Just lift this up like this… Ah! By the power of my bountiful breasts, whenever you say the words ‘change into Naru’, your clothes will become whatever you were wearing before!
“Whoa!” she whispered, and he imagined her face was rather flush for some reason, and that she was fanning herself down. “That was… Nngg… Feel so… God! Okay! I - I think you can open your eyes now.”
They did exactly that, and in unison sighed when they beheld those wondrous tits once again.
“Um…” she said, fidgeting slightly and pocketing the design for her outfit. “I want you… To forget this ever happened. As soon as I leave the room, forget I was ever here!”
Off she ran, tying up her breasts and leaving in quite the tremendous hurry. He just had time to wonder where she was going, when the door closed - He blinked. What had he been up to just now? Oh, yes. Privately enjoying his inevitable feast upon these pitiful wretches. Though, strange. For some reason his personal energy reserves were a little lower than they should have been. But why -
“The fashion club? Are you sure?” asked a voice just outside the door. A girl trying, and failing, to be quiet.
“Positive,” replied another, whose much more successful attempt was rather spoiled by the first’s failure. “There was definitely a release of youma energy coming from here. It’s lucky I noticed it!”
“Alright already!” declared a third voice, not even bothering to remain quiet anymore. “Let’s stop yapping and put a stop to this! Whatever it is, it can’t be good!”
At which point the door was kicked in and in the doorway were suddenly standing three annoyed-looking girls in uniforms that weren’t even remotely intimidating, and might even be considered fetish fuel.
“Well, shit,” the monster whispered to himself. A minute later, and he was dust.
<hr>
Home again from school, and Naru was staring at herself in the mirror. Dressed up like an honest-to-goodness superhero. It had worked out well so far. She had an identity. She had a costume. But now… Now she needed some allies. The only thing was, where exactly should she start looking? Who would make a good recruit for her cause?
- Kasumi Tendo, who is attacked by monsters while out shopping one day.
- Tea Gardner, whose dance class has been hijacked by a monster.
- A very confused Hinata Hyuuga, who really doesn’t belong in this reality.
- Sakaki from Azumanga Daioh, who is attacked by a monster disguised as an adorable cat.
- All of the above.
- Some other characters.
Yum, Yum. Guess she gets magical transformation anyway. Probably good giving her a wider repetoire.
ReplyDeleteProbably be good to do a normal gal before an exotic like Hinata :3.