You try the bra on.

Well... Why not try it on? For all you know it was intended for you in the first place. You go to the bathroom, undressing on the way. You take off your trusted and reliable plain bra you wear under your blouse and replace it with silky smooth, delicate and luxurious gift. The effect is striking - the smooth fabric wraps your breasts and accentuates your modest, barely B cups chest.

"That is one sexy bra..."

You say to yourself. "Sexy" was rarely the look a professional and overworked woman like you goes for, but... It was nice. And more importantly, it gave you a perfect support, without any adjustments. You pose in front of mirror for a while and decide to keep the bra on for the evening.

***

I feel my... Well, it's hard to call her a victim or even a plaything just yet. My hostess. I feel my hostess stretching me, pulling and tugging on my parts. It's annoying and...

Damn.

I take back every silent curse I cast on whoever turned me into that. It was a bloody genius. I'm not only pressed tightly to her body, but I'm wrapped around her boobs!

I feel my fabric tingling as I draw from her energy. I have no idea what's the precise purpose of this garment, but I observe her reactions and react accordingly, trying to accommodate her the best I can. It works and I can sense her satisfaction - meek as it is, it tastes sweet after all this time.

I'm far too weak to try even affecting her subconsciousness, but I might just tap to her senses... Here we go... I watch the world through her eyes.