Tabitha's parents woke her early with a large breakfast. Afterwards, the three families met and carpooled downtown to the mall. "We'll get you girls some underwear first," Jasmine's mom said. "You'll need a fair amount, since you've only got one set apiece right now."
"I don't want any freaking underwear," Jasmine muttered under her breath. Tabitha shrugged. "It;s something we need," she said. "Besides, running around braless is going to draw even more attention to you than wearing one."
"'Sides," Klondike quietly chimed in, "you never know; you might find you enjoy it after all."
They arrived at the mall and did in fact get underwear first. Most of what their mothers picked out were quite conservative and generally pretty frilless, but there some frilly, lacy things as well, and a couple of the items in the mix were bordering on racy. Their mothers sent them into the changing rooms to try things on.
Klondike, undressed except for her collar, held up a matching lacy black pair of panties and bra. It was weird, being expected to wear stuff like this, but...it did look pretty good, and this was an opportunity men didn't have: to wear this stuff without social stigma. She found she really kind of enjoyed the notion. The bra took a little figuring out, but once it was on it really did feel good, the soft, lacy fabric lifting and supporting her breasts, emphasizing them nicely. The panties were a lot trickier, as they didn't have a hole for her tail the way the set her boxers had become did. She settled for sliding it through one leg-hole. The panties felt good, too; soft and snug against her personal regions. It was strange for her underwear to be so snug against her body and yet not be squashing anything, but it afforded a nice secure feeling. She struck a pose in the mirror. Wow, she was really quite beautiful. "Lookin' good, Mom," she announced.
Tabitha stood in the next stall over, holding a slightly frilly bra and pair of panties in a color somewhere between flesh tone and pink. This is it, she thought. This stuff is the stuff girls wear. By wearing this, I am acknowledging that I am a girl. She was almost afraid to continue. But...she was a girl now. Maybe they'd find a way to change back, but in the meantime, there was no point in living in denial. The sooner she came to terms with her girlhood, the better. It took a couple tries to get the bra on, but she managed. Technically, it wasn't a new feeling, as she'd had a bra on ever since her catgirl awakening, but after removing the old one and having her breasts hang free for the first time since she'd got them, it was like experiencing it for the first time all over again: the soft, surrounding feel of the fabric against the sensitive skin, the hugging of her breasts up against her chest. The panties went on pretty easily, and it was again like experiencing it for the first time; the soft, snug sensation was something altogether new. She looked herself over in the mirror and realized that she was prettier than she'd known. "These are fine, I guess," she informed her mom.
Jasmine stood in the final stall, clad in only her collar, clutching a plain white bra and pair of panties, the plainest she could find. She didn't want to put them on; she wasn't a girl inside, whatever she might look like, right? A horrible thought crossed her mind, that part of the genie's adjustment to their lives might involve her becoming a girl in mind, but she reasoned that the fact that she wasn't wanting to wear girls' clothes was proof that she wasn't. Or so she hoped. At any rate, she knew her mom would make her try them on, so on they went. The bra took quite a bit of fumbling, but eventually it was on; it was a strange sensation, having her breasts lifted up. The panties were no problem, but i was a weird and frightening feeling, having them snug up against her nethers; it reminded her of what she'd so recently lost. She steadfastly refused to look at herself in the mirror as she told her mother flatly "They fit."
After they'd bought underwear, they moved onto other clothes: pants, shorts, jumpers, skirts, dresses, T-shirts, blouses, tank tops...anything available that wasn't what Tabitha's mother called "hooker wear" was foisted on them at some point, and a fair bit of it was then purchased. Klondike cooperated happily, Tabitha quietly, and Jasmine grudgingly. Once they had amassed a reasonable wardrobe each, they went to the food court, where they sat, eating a hearty lunch.