Oh, God...

Your cheeks burn with humiliation. How did you not notice that before you put it on? God, what would people think of you if they saw you now? And yet... it does look kind of nice on you. Sabrina doesn't have much in the way of breasts—you snuck a peek at one of her bras once and it said 32A—so this doesn't look that weird on your own obviously flat chest.

And as for the "Party Girl!" thing... well, you'll just have to pretend that isn't there.

Next up: the shorts. Those turn out to be comparatively easy: put your feet in the leg holes and pull it up. They're a little tight around the ass—that's pretty much the only part of you that's not horribly scrawny—so getting it all the way up requires some jumping and yanking, but finally you manage it.

You check the mirror again, and... well, it's actually pretty disappointing, because your boxers stick out from the leg holes, and when you work them up into the shorts, they form irregular bumps that ruin the entire look. For the second time you consider trying it without your boxers, but having your cock and balls touch directly against your sister's clothing... no, it's just too weird.

Then it comes to you. Why not try a skirt? That way, as long as you're careful, you won't rub against anything! You quickly wriggle free of the shorts and step back into the closet.

Once more your sister has—unwittingly—ensured you're spoiled for choice. Flared or straight, long or short, simple or elaborate, and as usual, in almost every color of the rainbow—again no orange, though. Weird. You can't resist the temptation to pick something short, settling on a pleated, navy blue skirt. It kind of reminds you of the school's cheerleader's skirts, which you've always enjoyed seeing girls in. Hooking up with a girl wearing one is one of your long-standing fantasies. You chuckle inwardly. You could never have imagined that wearing one would be the closest you got to fulfilling it.

You return to the bedroom. Before you take off your boxers, you inspect the skirt. Ah: there's a zipper on one side. Undoing it adds a few inches to the waist, hopefully enough to fit your butt.

You take a deep breath, then before you can change your mind, slide off your boxers, take the skirt, and step into it. You take pains to ensure your prick doesn't make contact with it when you pull it up, then zip it up.

When you look at yourself in the mirror, you can hardly believe your eyes. The clothes fit as if they were tailor-made for you. Your short skirt—your sister's short skirt, you remind yourself—leaves much of your thighs bare, and the hip-hugging waist and short crop top leave your midriff bare too, showcasing your slim stomach. Not even your flat chest can ruin the overall look. In fact, for possibly the first time since you were a kid, your skinniness looks right.

You remove the hair tie around your ponytail, letting your long blonde hair cascade down your back. Your eyes drift down to your feet and you realize there's still something missing: socks and shoes.

Your first impulse is to grabbing a pair of simple white ankle socks, but on second thought you settle on something a little more spicy: a pair of thigh-highs in white and black.

Putting them on takes a bit of finesse, but once you figure it out you're surprised by how warm they are; noticeably warmer than your pants, despite not being that thick.

You check your reflection again: yes! They look just like you hoped, leaving another gap between the bottom of the skirt and the top of the socks. They're a little tight, showing your thighs just barely squishing out from the pressure. They're perfect.

Next: shoes. A pair of boring, sensible sneakers is the obvious safe choice, but you waver.