A big dude offers a hand.

A huge dude in leather pants, ripped shirt, and covered in tats, that apparently works here, hands you a tiny wad of white and pink clothes. “Here try this.”
You look him over and can’t help but feel a bit intimidated, despite being about the same size.

“Thanks.” You take the tiny items from him and give them a look, the fabric is all very soft and very thin, yet it seems to stretch a bit in your hands. “This stuff is to small isn’t it?”

“You want to go to the concert right?”

Not sure how that is going to make this tiny wardrobe fit, you tug again stretching the tiny shirt in your hands and answer, “Well yes, and I want to make a good little slut, but this is just silly.”

“Yeah I can make you a slut easy with that attitude. It is all in the magic. Don't worry about it, just come with me.” He grabs your arm and drags you back to the dressing room. “Strip. I will be right back.” Alone in the little stall you plop down on the little bench and look at the tiny clothes. All he handed you was a white tank top with a picture of a faerie wearing pink and white checkered stockings and bikini, and a hot pink bikini, the type that ties in back, the back of the neck, and at each hip. Holding it up you can tell that it is designed for someone literally half your size. Several minutes later he steps back in to find you still sitting there fully dressed. “What cha waiting for? Here I got you black polish for your toes and hands, get naked and start with that. Hell do you want me to do this or not? I can't make you a slut if you don't do what I tell you. A good little slut does what she is told.” You take the little bottle of polish and he continues, “Here start with this, I'll get you some shoes, stockings, and just the right pair of pants. Don't worry so much, your not exactly my type like this you know, like I really want you sucking my cock.”

As he slips back out of the dressing room some of what he said hits you and you ask, “Wait what?” But he is long out of ear shot. Staring at the bottle you are not exactly sure why, but you go ahead and slip off your socks and shoes and start painting your nails. “Ok, I guess.” You stammer at the closed door. Finished, you can't help but look over the sexy clothing imagining just what type of girl would dress like that, conjuring up all sorts of sexy images in your head. The door opens once again and he hands in a pair of tiny jeans, with rips and worn places all up their length. Setting these down on the bench, you take the rest of what he is offering, a pair of white fishnet stockings, and a pair of pink and white running shoes. “I guess these are slutty?” You say conjuring up the image of a youthful athletic girl with long black hair with pink highlights, a skater punk or something.

“Nice, I can see you are picturing the new you. Now here put on this nice black lipstick, eyeliner, and deep pink and black eyeshadow. I'll start the ritual around the room and as soon as you are done just get naked and I'll come back in to finish. Sound good?”

“Umm I guess.” You say taking the makeup.

“Good, like I said you will make a perfect little **** whore with that attitude. Nice job.”

“Uhh, thanks?” You answer not really sure if that is a complement or not. It is far to easy to put on the makeup, so much so that you almost can start to imagine how there must be some kind of magic at work. “This is so weird.” You say out loud as you finish, smacking your lips together to smooth out the lipstick. Looking in the mirror you can almost see a woman peaking out of your eyes looking back at you. But do you really want to get naked? What is going to happen?