Broadcast Prep! - Dragon Dick Whip Sell-Off Scheme (2)
"Wha… what the hell is going on here?"
I froze for a moment in shock at the unexpected situation. The community being flooded with posts about me? I'd never even imagined something like this.
"Did I write something that explosive?"
I quickly regained my composure and started scrolling through the posts one by one.
…The emergence of this new debuff item seemed to have caused a bigger stir than I'd anticipated. I could understand it—debuff items were super rare after all—but I never dreamed the community would be plastered with talk about me.
Why focus on me instead of the item? Full-body verification shots are standard for sales, and I thought I'd taken a pretty tame photo… Was it this damn chest after all?
I had stuff to do today, so I couldn't read every single post. Instead, I clicked on the one with the most upvotes.
…Things were snowballing fast. What if over 100 viewers showed up for my first stream? Embarrassing to admit, but my peak had been 50 so far. Judging by the hype, though, 50 would be a breeze.
Good news is good, but… couldn't avoid that post-nut clarity vibe. I'd grinded so hard, and now my debut pulls aggro like this? Guess you need the looks and body to make it as a streamer?
I kept doomscrolling like I was possessed. Most chatter was about my figure, but since I still couldn't wrap my head around being a woman, it didn't bug me much. Some lines crossed too far and made me cringe, though.
"…Shit, not the time!"
To stream, I needed clothes—stat. Couldn't broadcast with one arm over my chest forever. And even without the stream, underwear was essential. My tits chafed like hell against the rough fabric.
Mentally a guy walking into a lingerie store? Mortifying. But no choice… Fine, quick hair rinse, head out, figure it later.
It'd been ages since I stepped outside. First time since turning into a girl, I think. I'd been holed up ordering delivery—no reason to venture out.
This heat with a coat on? Suffocating. But I layered my see-through outfit with it and braved the streets. Couldn't go out translucent like that. No matter how stuffy, coat stays on.
I map-checked my way to a lingerie shop. House was a trek from downtown—20-minute walk. But why's everyone staring? Never felt eyes like this; felt weird.
Dozens of minutes later, women's lingerie store in sight. True to form, no view inside from outside. All entering/exiting were women… Never thought I'd set foot here.
Deep breath, steel nerves, push door.
Clerk greeted warmly. "Welcome!"
"Uh, hi."
Store scanning made my head spin. Lingerie everywhere; high school girls giggling, waving bras like toys.
Ugh, grab what I need and bolt. Lingering might shatter my identity.
Okay, browse for basics. …Problem: No clue my size. Knew tits were huge, but specifics? Nope. Shelves maxed at average; biggest bras topped F-cup. Mine? No way F.
Guess measurements it is… Sigh. Shuffle to clerk, mumble, "S-sorry…"
"Yes? Looking for something?"
Shit, how to phrase? "I-I'm here for underwear. C-could you measure me…?"
Aaaah, mortifying! Why say that? Obvious in a lingerie store! Self-loathing hit.
Clerk unfazed, high-energy: "Gotcha! This way, please?"
"Y-yeah!"
Changing room guide, pulls tape: "Coat off, ma'am?"
Oh fuck. Measurements mean stripping. See-through underneath… No choice though.
"Ma'am?"
"R-right!" Clerk's urging won; coat off.
"Oh my gosh…!"
Jaw-drop reaction. Hide in a hole pls. Blushing to roots: "S-sorry…"
"N-no, just surprised. Arms out?"
"…Okay."
"Excuse me then."
Tape around chest. Someone else touching? Weird—shameful, ticklish, giggle-worthy.
Moments later, flustered clerk: "Um… ma'am?"
"Yes?"
"S-sorry, but… we don't have your size."
"…Huh?"
Blank stare; she continued: "Our largest is H-cup."
H-plus? Knew I was big, but no stock? Roadblock from jump.