Crop top and knee socks, nothing else

You're at the line. You cross it. The temptation is too great to do anything less.

"I think, right now, since it's just you and me in your room, what you really feel like is slipping into something super sexy," you say, your voice hoarse.

Pearl becomes skeptical, and not a little bit worried, but she also seems conflicted, somehow. "Uh huh. And what exactly does that entail?" she asks guardedly, turning away from you, covering her body as best she can with her arms. "What's going on with you tonight? You've never done anything like this before, especially not with how I feel about clothes.”

“What about it?” you say, knowing you can’t back down now. "It's a special night. We're finally done with high school.”

You feel guilty about being called out, but what can you do? Seeing Pearl strip to her underwear on your suggestion - damn. You never knew she was so pretty.

“You’re not acting like yourself,” says Pearl, her tone serious. “This isn’t about your bullshit new claiming power, is it? Making you think you can do anything you want?”

Well…

At your hesitation, Pearl’s expression darkens. "I don't know if I feel comfortable with where you're going with this," she says. "First you get me out of my clothes, now you have me standing in front of you in my underwear, with this bizarre feeling like I want to slip into something super sexy..."

"But that's the great thing," you interrupt her chain of thought, quickly adapting your plan. "You’re not uncomfortable with any of this. You feel totally safe and comfortable about wearing sexy clothes, Pearl. As much as you'd feel in that nice pair of comfy PJs you were thinking about changing into."

Pearl scoffs, but paradoxically relaxes at the same time. "Hmph. Say what you want but this isn't okay," she says, struggling to muster any real bite to her words. "If you want to see a pair of tits, use the internet or get a girlfriend. If you push this any further our friendship's over. I'm serious, Chase - comfortable or not, I’m not letting you gawk at me like a piece of meat.”

The threat stings you, but you're confident you can get around Pearl's reticence.

"Relax Pearl," you reassure her. "It's just your style. You know it's cool and edgy to show some skin - even a ton of skin - and you don't give a fuck what anyone else thinks. It sends the message that you don't care, that you're mature, that you have nothing to hide."

"Chase," warns Pearl, but she sounds more annoyed than angry. After all, what's wrong with showing some skin?

"You feel fine if your clothes don't cover everything they ought to," you advise, tweaking her preferences. "The less you wear, the more you show, the less embarrassed or inappropriate you feel. Less feels like you're showing more of your true self. It puts you at ease. Helps you relax. To the point that when you're alone or it's just us, you wearing anything at all feels totally optional."

Pearl sighs, her embarrassment, anger, and awkwardness all fading together. Probably because her new feelings toward wearing less probably have her feeling pretty damn good about herself. The less she wears, the more she's at ease, and Pearl's already in her underwear.

"Okay," Pearl says flatly, "not going to lie. Now that we're here with this totally bad and predatory thing you're doing with my feelings and style, I kind of don't give a fuck anymore. It just feels good."

She holds out her arms as if seeing them for the first time, her gaze wandering from her chest to her fingertips. Then, remembering you, she squares her shoulders and faces you directly. "I'm not going to end our friendship over this, but you owe me, Chase." Pearl fixes you with a glare, her eyes dangerous. "Like, big time."

You nod vehemently. "Got it."

Pearl nods to herself, mollified. "Just wanted to make sure that was clear." Then she adjusts her bra, looking at herself thoughtfully. "So I feel like wearing something super sexy, huh?

"Something that maximizes how much skin you're showing," you agree, redefining sexy to her in this context. "Something... explicit, but still's kinda a tease," you say. "No underwear. Do you have any sexy kinds of tops?"

Pearl thinks. "I have a belly shirt I haven't worn since middle school," she offers.

"Wear that, then," you say. "Only that. With some socks. That's the look you want right now."

Pearl snorts. "This is so fucked up."

But there's no real disagreement in her, because Pearl goes straight to her closet and starts rifling around deep. She finds what she's looking for.

"Don't look," she says over her shoulder, her tone sarcastic.

"I won't peek," you promise, covering your eyes with your hands, but with obvious gaps in your fingers.

Pearl rolls her eyes and strips naked in front of you. You get an unabridged view of her thick butt and full, ripe breasts, capped with fleshy nipples. Any guilt you had about what you're doing vanishes. It’s all been totally worth it.

Pearl rolls up two black and white striped socks to her knees, then tugs on a too short, too small black shirt that stretches tight to accommodate her ample chest.

When she's 'dressed', Pearl checks herself out in her closet's floor-length mirror. You come over to get a better look yourself.

The hem of the short-sleeved black shirt stops a solid three inches above Pearl's navel, hiding nothing of her soft, slightly chubby stomach, bare hips, or her smooth lower belly and the smooth, puffy lips framing her sexy cleft. Her breasts strain lewdly against the shirt, the hue of both her nipples clear through the taut fabric. The knee socks add a quirky, playful character to her curvy legs and full thighs.

"Damn, I look badass," says Pearl, highly impressed. She twists to and fro to see herself from different angles, placing a hand on her lower back to pose slightly and see how her butt looks. "Intellectually, I know I look like I'm about to do a porn shoot, but geeze. Being all slutty like this makes me feel cool. I'm like a... sexy, give-no-fucks femme fatale vampire." She appraises herself in detail, her nipples stiffening from the air, tight fabric, and maybe a bit of arousal. "So this is your thing, Chase?"

You nod, salivating over Pearl's exposed body. You stare right at the tight V between her legs. "I didn't know you shaved."

Pearl shrugs. "Yeah. It's grad night. I didn't think I was going to get lucky but I didn't want to shut out the possibility," she says, with surprising candor. "And wow. I just told you that. I guess being half-naked's gonna make me feel all confident and chill from now on, huh."

"Seems like it," you say.

Pearl looks away from the mirror to you, not making the slightest move to cover up or showing any inkling of discomfort. "Hey. Don't get any ideas," she says, pointing firmly at you. "I know I said I was retroactively okay with you changing my sense of style to this, but this is the line."

This is the line? You already crossed the line about a dozen times to get Pearl half-naked like this, and it's awesome.

Pearl continues, unwittingly. "If you want to look, fine, but we're friends, Chase. I don't like you like that," she informs you. "And before you got your stupid claiming powers, I know you didn't like me like that, either. If you want a girlfriend, we'll find you a girlfriend. Okay? We've got all summer. Using your powers on me any more than you already have tonight would be totally screwed up."

You hold back a wild smile. She’s worried about you using your powers on her again, but you already have. A lot. Pearl has no idea what you’ve done. Or what you might do.

Undeniable power surges through you. The only question is what you’re going to do with it.