It all happened so fast. One second, I was wrapped around the chest of a big busted woman named Sarah as her bra. The next, the woman was gone, and I was falling to the floor. As I fell, the cups of my bra-body tipped toward the floor, and I could see something else falling with me.
It was a pair of silk panties. Based on the view I'd gotten of myself in Sarah's mirror, I was sure that they were a match to my own style. And since Sarah hadn't been wearing anything but me when she disappeared, there was only one explanation for where they had come from.
They *were* Sarah herself.
She had wished to know what I was feeling, adding specifically that she didn't want her body to turn into a bra to find out. With that condition placed upon it, the ring had been forced to do the next best thing. So, Sarah wasn't a bra, but a matching pair of panties instead.
All of this I realized before we hit the floor, me on top of her. At least as lingerie, we weren't hurt in the fall.
"Well, you wanted to know what it felt like to be underwear," I said to her. "Happy now?"
"Not really, no." It seemed that her earlier wish that we could communicate was still working. "So," she added, with a tone of regret, "now what do we do?"
"You're asking me?" I fired back. "What happened to the ring?"
"I think it's inside me," she answered. "Why?"
"Well, I don't know if it'll work with you being usable to actually speak," I told her, "but maybe if you think a wish to get back to normal..."
"I guess it couldn't hurt to try," she agreed. "Here goes. I wish I wasn't a pair of panties anymore."