Concave

"That one!" You say happily, eyeing how thin the midriff looks on the picture.

"Concave; the true option for aspiring bimbos." Hawk says, placing her hands on either side of your torso, the touch at your waist making you giggle. "Good choice again, you won't get fat, and your waist will always be tiny; giving you an over-the-top hourglass no matter your shape."

As she's talking, you can feel your middle squeeze in on itself, pulling tighter and tighter. You give a squeaky groan, a little scared, but it mostly just feels strange. You wish you could see, but it's impossible to peer over your fat boobies, until you realize you can watch in the mirror! Wide-eyed, you stare as what little fat on your middle seems to melt away, your waist cinching tighter on your sides, almost as if an invisible corset is tightening on you, but with no discomfort, just the strange squeamishness radiating from that area. Soon though, it stops, leaving you with your new midriff.

Taking it in, your eyes follow the new lean flesh of your torso, your innie belly button now vertical and longer, following the barest hint of tone on your torso, up to the shadow cast by your huge titties. The sides of your waist curve inwards above your hips, making them see more flared than they are, an image you enjoy as you let your hands trace over them, smiling as you do.

"Good thing you're looking forward to all this, it'd be so much hard if you were still resisting." Hawk says, to which you tilt your head at her. "Like, why would me resi- re- like, not wanna be hawt? You're like, the best, Miss Hawk lady!" You say, giving a cute giggle to her.

She smiles at you, "Oh, I know, sweetie. Still, some don't appreciate my work as much as you have. Now," She produces another paper, "How about hips? They do make the woman! Or... something like that."