Many years after at art school

In the art room of St. Richard’s Ivanna Tozki stood, her black lipstick curving into a sneer as she looked at a student's canvas. Ivanna wore a tight, black velvet dress that clung to a shape she had spent years perfecting with the help of a high-compression waist cincher and a heavy-duty padded bra.

"This is derivative, Leonora. Truly pathetic. Where is the angst? Where is the void?" Ivanna asked, her voice a practiced, low drawl.

Leonora, a mischievous 18 year old, didn't look at her painting. She looked at the way the velvet dress strained over Ivanna's hips.

"Maybe the void is just behind you, Miss Tozki," Leonora whispered.

Before Ivanna could snap back, Leonora lunged. Her hand shot out with surgical precision, hooking deep into the waistband of Ivanna's underwear. With a violent yank she pulled the fabric upward.

"Gah! What the fuck!" Ivanna shrieked, her voice jumping two octaves as she was hoisted nearly off her feet.

The fabric didn't just stretch; it snapped against her skin with a loud, elastic thwack. As Ivanna struggled, the dress rode up, revealing the culprit of the wedgie. The class gasped in unison. Instead of the expected black lace of a goth siren, a pair of tiny, white cotton panties with a faded print of yellow rubber duckies were wedged deep into the crevice of her backside. The fabric was stretched to its absolute limit, barely containing a pair of cheeks that were far wider and softer than the dress had suggested.

"Are those... baby panties?" a girl in the front row screamed, pointing and laughing.

"Duckies! She wears duckies!" Leonora roared, her face lighting up with triumph.

Ivanna scrambled to pull her dress down, her face turning pink. "Get back! Everyone get back to your seats this instant!"

"Wait, look at her waist!" another student shouted.

As Ivanna twisted and turned in her panic, the waist cincher shifted. The fabric of the dress bunched, and the illusion shattered. The hourglass figure vanished. Replaced by a soft, protruding muffin top that spilled over the edges of her panties. She wasn't a willow; she was a pear, a soft, wobbling mass of flesh that the velvet had been desperately trying to hide.

"You're fat!" Leonora yelled, emboldened by the chaos. "The Goth Queen is a chubby little nerd!"

"I am not! It's just the lighting!" Ivanna cried, but the students had already closed in.

Her authority in the classroom evaporated. Five students grabbed her arms and legs. Ivanna fought, her legs kicking, but she was out of shape and a bit too small to actually do any damage.

"Let's see what else she's hiding!" Leonora commanded.

With a coordinated tug, they ripped the velvet dress upward. It tore at the seams, the fabric screaming as it was shredded away. Ivanna was left in her ducky panties and her padded bra. The students howled with laughter at the sight of her pale, soft thighs and the way her belly shook as she gasped for air.

"The bra is huge!" someone noted. "Why is it so thick?"

Leonora reached out and snapped the clasp of the bra. The garment flew away, and Ivanna’s chest slumped forward. There were no towering mounds of flesh. Instead, two small, tubular breasts poked out, barely larger than tea cups, topped with giant, puffy, dark pink nipples that looked startled to be seeing the light of day.

Leonora laughed, reaching out to flick one of the puffy nipples. "And look at the nipples! They're huge! You're a little freak, aren't you, Miss Tozki?"

Ivanna sobbed, covering herself with her arms, her pale skin filled with freckles. "Please, stop! Let me go!"

"Look at her cry," a girl sneered. "Not so hardcore now, are you? You're just a little dork in baby underwear."

By the time the administration arrived, Ivanna was shivering and half naked on the floor, she had peed herself. The image of her "perfect" goth persona stripped away to reveal a soft, chubby virgin with a penchant for childish underwear.