I scurried past the hustle and bustle of the busy street, and into the store, hoping to avoid too many weird looks over the way I was dressed, and made my way to the footwear department. After some fiddling with those foot measuring devices I concluded that my feet had shrunk to around a women’s size 8. Still, since I wasn’t entirely certain I was done changing, it was probably best I not spend too much on shoes. I settled for the cheapest pair of generic sneakers I could buy, which were still kind of cute. They had this olive tone to them with a brown rubber sole and were pretty minimalistic in design, but in a way that really worked for me. They were casual, but the sort of casual that would go well with a nice outfit so long as there wasn’t a pretense of actual formality. I made sure they fit, then wasted no time buying them. Getting shoes that wouldn’t fall off my feet was imperative, after all.

Feet properly snug, slip-ons tucked into my bag, I set off for the real decision: what would be going on my body. I strolled into the women’s clothing section, trying my best to exude an air of yes, I totally belong here, I’m just a normal regular girl doing normal regular girl things, not a secret guy. Around the fifth or so time I awkwardly walked past a rack of clothes, grabbed a random article, and ran the fabric through my fingers in a show of consideration before letting it slip uselessly without even actually checking the size or anything, an employee seemed to pick up on the fact that I was making an utter fool of myself and approached me.

“Can I help you find something?” Her chipper voice cut through the buzzing haze of trying very hard to not stand out, startling me and causing me to whirl around. Before me stood a cute looking young woman who was, strangely, about my height. That was really not something I was used to seeing. I could tell from looking at her she was someone I’d have towered over only yesterday, but now we were practically eye to eye. She was smiling pleasantly and patiently, though she seemed to be feeling more awkward by the second as my brain struggled to catch up with everything going on. It was a lot to process, okay? I was frazzled. And it was for that reason that when I replied it came as a confused stammer.

“Huh? No. Oh, wait. Um, yes. Yes, I need help. Please help me.” I awkwardly pulled the piece of clothing I’d been fondling off the rack and handed it to her automatically, before realizing that wasn’t something people did and drawing it back closer to me, nearly clutching it to my body. She blinked, her mind probably trying to process whether she was talking to an actual human or some sort of disguised lizard creature from beneath the hollow earth come to infiltrate the flesh world. 

“Right, well, uh? Did you want to try that on? Fitting rooms are over there, though it doesn’t really look like your size.” She grabbed the tag, showing that it was an XL, and yeah, definitely too big after all. 

“Um, no that’s okay. Truth be told, I uh --” I trailed off, trying to come up with some kind of excuse, before being struck with inspiration, “I was holding it for a friend’s birthday. Wait no. Buying it until she came back from the bathroom, I mean --” In a last-ditch effort to save any kind of face I slumped forward, hanging my head. “I don’t really know what I’m doing,” I murmured. And bless her perfect little heart, this overworked and underpaid retail worker just giggled. 

“Well, in that case, we have our work cut out for us. What exactly are you looking for?” I could tell from the look on her face she was -- quite literally -- sizing me up. 

“I’m um, I’m not sure. I have a date with my girlfriend tonight and she wanted me to wear something nice. Specifically, she said I’d look pretty in a dress, but I guess it doesn’t have to be a dress,” I said, blushing. Did she realize I was a guy or just think I was a really awkward and inexperienced girl? Either way, she seemed nice and welcoming. Maybe it didn’t matter.

“Well, I think your girlfriend has a good head on her shoulders. She’s right, you’d definitely look pretty in a dress. Why don’t you head over to the changing room and try, uhh --” With dexterity and speed that came only with the familiarity of an employee whose soul had been sucked out and replaced with knowledge of her store’s clothing racks, she fished out a lovely green little number and thrust it into my arms. “This one! Go try this on, it should be closer to your size, which I assume you don’t actually know?” She didn’t wait for a reply, winking a little then stroking her chin thoughtfully. “Okay, try that on. I’ll find a few more outfits and come find you. What’s your name, by the way?”

“It’s The-- I mean Jesse,” I stammered. She smiled.

“Well, it’s lovely to meet you, Jessie. I’m Mellie. Let’s get you a hot outfit to match that hot bod of yours.” With that she stalked off, a woman on a mission, leaving me alone. I awkwardly drifted into one of the women’s fitting rooms, half expecting to be yelled at on the way in, and huffed, slumping onto the bench. Eventually, I worked up the courage to disrobe, donned the dress, and took a look at it in the mirror. 

It was cute and form-fitting, with a scoop neck that showed a tiny bit of cleavage and short, ruffled sleeves that reached just above my elbow. The skirt hung at just around my knee and had a nice little black trim around its edges. Overall it was really nice. Both Olivia and Mellie were right, I did look pretty in a dress. I blushed, smiling shyly at my reflection and feeling almost voyeuristic. How could I be so lucky as to be allowed to indulge in my wildest fantasies completely through random circumstances? And how could I be so lucky to have those fantasies be so important and so fulfilling that living them out filled me with a delight that extended beyond any sort of sexual gratification and became pure contentment and joy? 

Looking in the mirror, I was sure of one thing: I wanted to wear women’s clothes every single day I remained in this form. I wanted to try them all: dresses, blouses, skinny jeans, skirts, rompers, even more masculine-coded styles like women’s blazers or cool biker jackets. Before, the idea of going clothes shopping had always sounded so boring. But now? It was super exciting; there were so many new combinations and I couldn’t wait to see how they looked on me. It really was quite the shift in perspective, surprisingly so, really. It seemed like, at the end of the day, anything could become fun when I got to look at a hot girl’s body while doing it. Or at least, a hot girl-esque body. I wasn’t actually a girl, so I didn’t have a girl’s body. 

As if right on cue to remind me of that fact, my phone’s alarm chirped with a reminder to take my daily magic pill. Not wasting any time, I quickly popped one out and set the bottle on the booth’s bench while I took a swig from my travel water bottle. After swallowing it down, I waited a few minutes, half expecting some dramatic new changes to overtake me. In the end, it seemed that was only a one-time thing, though. I tried to pretend not to notice how disappointing that was and got back to enjoying the view.

I was in the middle of voguing like a madwoman -- madman, when Mellie returned, tossing about five new outfits onto the partition while I was in the middle switching from a sexy pout to a teasing smile with my tongue stuck out. I was so caught up with what I was doing that I didn’t even notice her footsteps. Messing around in this body was just too fun! It was a hazard, honestly. I bit back a startled yelp and replied with an awkward, embarrassed thanks when Mellie called to me from the other side suggesting I try on her selection. 

I spent the next twenty minutes to half-hour in that changing room trying on outfit after outfit. There were a couple of dresses, including a very risque little black one that was nearly backless, a selection of button-up blouses with matching skirts, and even some casual clothes, like this cute pair of overalls which went really well with my hair color and a snug, torn-up crop top which seemed deliberately picked out to go with this pair of tight black skinny jeans for a cool punk look. Some of them didn’t fit, but I was always able to get Mellie to fish out something in the right size. 

At the end of it all, when it came time to pick what to buy, I had to make a very hard decision. There was a good chance some of this wouldn’t fit at all if my body kept changing, and it wasn’t as though I was going to look this way forever, right? I didn’t have an exit strategy with this whole Olivia thing yet, but I’d obviously eventually need to go back to being a normal guy, even if that did kind of suck. So obviously, even if I could return clothes I didn’t wind up removing the tag from, it was still probably not a good idea for me to buy too much. Still, I did really want to see myself and be seen by others in just about all of those outfits. Ultimately, it became a pretty hard choice, but I knew deep down I’d made the right call. I stepped out of the changing room with a big smile on my face, my selections bundled up in my arms, and met Maria at the checkout.

“Thanks, Mellie. I think I’ll take all of them.” I said with a smile. Her face bloomed into giddy delight as she began ringing me up.

“Oh, that’s so wonderful, Jesse! I’m really glad I could help you out today. It always warms my heart to see new girls like you come into their own. I can really see the real you in that dress.” She gestured to the red and white sundress I’d worn out of the stall, then quickly leaned forward to scan it with her price gun. “That’ll be $167.89, by the way.” I returned her radiant smile with a perplexed gaze of my own as I fished my credit card out of my wallet and inserted the chip.

“I’m sorry, new girls?” I asked. 

“Oh, I’m sorry! That’s not an offensive term, is it? I just meant, you know, girls like you who have recently started their transition. It’s really mind-blowing what magic can do these days, by the way. You look amazing, I really wouldn’t have been able to tell you were trans from looking at you. I could only tell ‘cause you didn’t know anything about women’s clothes, oh, and also the way you almost said your deadname instead of your real name.” Her reply spilled out of her, apologetic and awkward and fast, a growing look of mortification on her face.

“Wh-what? Trans? I -- I’m not -- I have to go.” The machine beeped, telling me I was all paid for, so I gathered my purchase then turned tail, practically running out of the store as I tried as hard as I could to not think about everything I’d just heard.

SapphicSounds

That last part was pretty weird, huh? Oh well, I'm sure it will have no impact on the rest of the story. If you're enjoying things so far, you can currently get early access to all of this story, along with several other benefits such as exclusive audio content, exclusive writing, and pictures of my cat on my patreon for as little as $2 a month (cat pictures are gonna cost you extra though, sorry).