Johnny Is Embarrassed, But More Comfortable

"I don't need a bra," Johnny Storm said. "I'd rather cut my tits off."

"Johnny," Sue said. "I know this is difficult for you. And if you want gender-affirming surgery later, that's your choice and I'll support you. But for right now, you're uncomfortable and depressed, and you need some clothing that fits your body. At least until Reed can figure out a way to change you back."

In her heart, Sue Storm knew herself to be a terrible liar. It was her own fault that Johnny Storm's body was changing. Cock shrinking. Breasts growing. Even the face looked more feminine, closer to her own; the blonde hair longer as it grew out of the boycut Johnny normally preferred. Changing at a genetic level into what Sue admitted now she wanted—a sister.

Johnny needed a little tender loving care and a gentle nudge before he accepted that. Before he would be she. For Johnny to become Jonni. Sue knew just the person to ease the Human Torch's transition.

The shop was small, bespoke, and discreet. An androgynous figure in brown slacks and a sleeveless red blouse met them with a smile. There were swirling tribal tattoos on her olive arms, and the salt-and-pepper hair was in a boyish cut. Neither male nor female, but deliberately indeterminate.

"Johnny, this is Ahn," Sue said. "They...well, how would you put it?"

"Hello Johnny," Ahn said with a quiet smile. "I was born intersex, in Vietnam. I am nonbinary, I do not conform to either male or female gender modes. My shop exists to help those who are either transitioning or struggle with medical conditions that challenge their gender identity. Hormone imbalances that cause gynecomastia in men, for example. What you should know is that I am here to serve you, to help assure your comfort both mentally and physically. I have been of service helping those in the superhuman community for some time."

"My sister says I need a bra," Johnny said, after a long moment.

"That is one option available," Ahn says. "If you do not mind, it would be better if we see what we're working with."

Sue hovered in the background as Johnny slid out of his oversized hoodie, and then his shirt. His breasts looked more pronounced, not unlike when Sue herself had been going through puberty. The word that sprang to mind was budding. There was no more hair on his chest, just smooth skin, slightly soft pecs that promised future development, and larger pink nipples than when she had seen him last.

Ahn brought out a measuring tape. As she measured Johnny, she intermixed instructions with anecdotes. Transmen she had fitted with binders. Transwomen who had come bra shopping for the first time. Young men and women with hormonal disorders, disfiguring injuries that required specialized clothing or prostheses.

Even superheroes.

"Captain America," she said, when Johnny had asked for a name. The Human Torch's new underwear was printing on the unstable molecule loom, from the rolls of cloth that Sue had provided.

"You're joking," Johnny said, utterly astonished as she took his inseam.

"Not at all. The villain Superia had tried to make him and the Paladin into biological women. There were side effects that became evident several weeks later. Eventually, hormone therapy was able to adjust his supersoldier serum-enhanced physiology, but for about six months he was wearing a custom-designed binder. He told me that at night when he removed it, there was a small 'boobsplosion.'"

"Huh," Johnny said.

"Given your current development, I'd like to recommend a training bra, for comfort and support," Ahn said when she was done. "And some shapewear that you can wear underneath your costume. It won't necessarily improve your self-image, but it should make you more comfortable while preserving full range of movement."

Which is how the Human Torch slipped into what looked like a pair of women's exercise pants that ran from knee to his natural waist. Sue bit her lip as she saw the small bulge of her brother's package seem to disappear. Combined with the bra, Johnny looked decidedly more feminine in profile—and more than that, Sue knew that the unstable molecule fabric she had provided was impregnated with Porkum's milk.

The more Johnny wore his new underwear, the more rapidly his transformation would occur.

The Human Torch wore the new clothing out of the store, under his normal civilian garb; the bag at his hand contained several extra pairs. He seemed—a little more relaxed. Comfortable with his changing body. Ahn had opened his eyes to possibilities. That gender needn't be binary or immutable.

All Johnny needed was the right love and support to become who Sue knew she could be.