Emily's trying to shop

Emily walked through the store with a mounting sense of horror. It had looked ordinary from the outside, at least ignoring what was being advertised, but once she was within the shop she was becoming very aware of how limited the wares were.She felt as though even Steph might balk at this place.

No, stop it, she reprimanded herself. Judging the only friend she’d made so far wasn’t going to make her situation any better. She just… she just had to keep searching.

Emily reached the far wall of the shop, down an aisle with nothing on offer except swimwear. Apparently that made up most of this store’s supply; at least, that was what was front and center, and it wasn’t stuff she’d be comfortable wearing even if she was going swimming. It could best be described as string. A few bits didn’t seem to have anything to even try to cover the important parts.

What the hell was going on?!

No, breathe, breathe, she told herself. Relax. There were so many more sections to the store. Patting her skirt down and adjusting her corset, Emily picked a direction and headed off to an adjacent section of the store.

She walked until she stopped seeing string thongs and barely-there bikini tops, then turned down the aisle.

This was, she supposed, better. There were at least actual clothes there, and decent ones at that. Ankle-length dresses, pants, shirts that actually went as low as her waist, low skirts, pajamas, everything she’d ever want; everything was also significantly smaller than her size.

She reached out for one bigger looking shirt and held it in front of herself experimentally. Not a hope. She liked tight clothes, but this was ridiculous, she couldn’t wear any of this!

Still, she kept her eyes peeled, this was a step in the right direction. By the time she’d reached the wall though, nothing better had revealed itself, just lots and lots of things that she couldn’t even conceivably put on.

Emily sighed, and her eyes were just that little bit wider, just that little bit more desperate, as she set off again. As far as she was concerned, she was fairly slender, certainly below average. What on earth was going on that nothing here fit?!

In a panic, she jogged to the far side of the store, finding nothing in the half she’d just been. When there were clothes rather than disparate ornaments, they were either beyond indecent or unwearable. She hadn’t even found a normal pair of fucking panties. She wasn’t sure why she’d tried to hold out hope.

Maybe there was another shop. This couldn’t be the only place that sold clothes, surely?

It was just the one Steph had pointed her to, and that she’d been closest to. Yeah, that had to be it, that was what was going on. Admittedly probably nothing here would fit Steph either, but she needed to cling to something.

Looking up, Emily spotted the signs that denoted the various sections of the store. Women’s clothing was back the way she came, men’s was up here, which wasn’t ideal but at least male clothing tended to be more practical. It would at least be wearable.

She passed the last line of string bikinis, and froze.

It was empty. The shelves were cleared out, the racks bare of all but a couple of hangars, the tables empty. She could see on for aisle after aisle and all she could see was exposed surfaces and naked mannequins.

Oh, no, that wasn’t entirely accurate. One mannequin had on sunglasses. That made all the difference.

Unable to keep from shaking now, Emily took a tentative step forwards. This couldn’t be happening.

How could she have come so far only to find there was still nothing here she could actually wear? She started to moved again, frantically looking around the menswear section for something other than empty space.

“Miss, can I help you?” a shop assistant came up to her.

Emily turned around, wide-eyed, quickly scanning the man’s nametag. ‘Robin.’ She swallowed, trying not to sound hysterical. He just worked here, she shouldn’t take it out on him.

“Hi, er, is there, well, anything for sale?” she said.

“The women’s clothing section is behind you,” he said. “You can find a range of-”

“I know,” she interrupted, blushing. “I’ve come from there. Nothing fits.”

“Really?” he said. “That’s surprising.”

“Everything’s tiny!” she said.

“Oh, right,” Robin said quickly. “Yes, apologies, this is after the reshuffle, I almost forgot.”

“The what?”

“Management decided to focus on a trendier demographic,” he said. “I think almost everything above a size two’s sold out.”

“What about here?” Emily said. “I know I’m not a guy, but they’re just clothes.”

At this point, screw replacing her whole wardrobe, she’d settle for just one change of clothes. Unfortunately Robin just looked apologetically at her.

“Sold out,” he said.

“Sold… out,” Emily said slowly. “The whole section?! Just this section?!”

“Afraid so,” Robin said. “Would you like to place an order for anything?”

“Just… just let me look around a bit first,” Emily said.

In a daze, she kept wandering, barely noticing Robin’s eyes on her. At least inside there was less of a breeze. Not that that counted for much.

She passed a trio of mannequins, anxious flailing slowly being replaced by a defeated slump. There really was nothing. Unless she wanted to fill her wardrobe with nothing but near-illegal bikinis, she wouldn’t be getting any new clothes here.

She’d have to ask Steph or someone if there were other clothing stores near here, this was ridiculous.

And then her eye caught on something. Dropped behind a table was a scrap of grey; Emily ran over to it, crouching, and gasping in relief as she saw an actual garment! It was strewn on the floor, hidden by the white surface upon which clothes would normally lay, but it was clothes.

No, they were clothes. More than one! It was a suit, yes, way, way more masculine than she liked her fashion, but a button-up top and suit pants were still infinitely better than Steph’s wardrobe.

As if to prove her point, as soon as Emily bent forwards to pull the clothes closer, there was a tearing sound and her corset gave up the ghost. Stray threads tore, buttons popped at just the tiny extra exertion, and what was once an indecent top now wasn’t even that, a stray rectangle of green falling from her breasts.

Emily squeaked, and crouched lower. She grabbed the top for a moment, fiddling with it before realizing what had happened, and realizing that it was now useless to her. She swallowed and stood up, holding it to her front with one hand even if the sides were waving free. She hugged it and the men’s clothes to her chest as she stood up.

Looking around quickly, she spotted the fitting room, and gladly started to make her way over there, heat rising in her cheeks. Thankfully the store was quiet.

She was most of the way there when her skirt fell. Emily didn’t notice at first, and tripped, flailing forwards as her skirt suddenly ended up around her ankles.

She threw her arms out, getting her balance, and throwing her clothes out ahead of her. She looked down, now with her cheeks blazing, and wriggled to try and pull her skirt back up, butt up in the air. She managed, but as soon as she stood, it fell again.

What?

No, no time, she glanced Robin over her shoulder coming closer. With an undignified squeal, Emily scrambled forwards, scooped up the suit-clothes as soon as she saw them, and hurried into the fitting room in nothing but her shoes.

The ruined corset top and inexplicably looser skirt lay discarded on the floor outside. Panting, Emily turned and yanked the curtain shut, hiding herself from view.

Chest heaving, she sat herself down on the bench, leaving the button-up shirt and pants next to her. At least she had those.

Still, she couldn’t help but have her eyes wander, looking into the mirror that was meant to help give an impression of how clothes looked. She could see herself in it. Eyes wide, desperately, each heavy breath making her chest move, her breasts bare and each rosy nipple pale and soft, with just the fact she was sat down meaning only the side of her thigh was visible, as opposed to her sex or the narrow strip of hair that pointed to it.

Emily swallowed, and looked awkwardly at her borrowed clothes.

What the hell was she going to do?

Casey was mad. She’d come in early, and as manager had helped lay out the plan for the day with all the other employees, and…

“Okay. Which moron fucked it up?” she stage whispered to the dozen shop assistants gathered. “The camera behind the one-way ‘mirror’ – because that at least fucking works – will tell us when she’s coming out, but so far it looks like she’s just gathering herself. We have until she’s ready, to work out how we can get something from this.”

She looked among the assistants. Robin was looking down.

“You!” she said. “You were in charge of clearing out menswear weren’t you?”

“I was on measurement duty, making sure nothing would fit her,” Robin said. “Lauren was menswear.”

“You,” Casey turned to a timid looking black woman. “The fuck? You had one job! One job! And you dropped some perfectly good clothes where Emily could actually get at them. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Sorry,” Lauren said, voice small.

“Any suggestions?” Casey said. “She’d be naked right now if it wasn’t for you! I am not going to report back and say we failed in our role because some fuckwit forgot how to carry a goddamn suit.”

Lauren swallowed.

“Well?” Casey said.

“Maybe… it’s a good thing,” Lauren said. “She’d have tried to hang onto her old clothes, even if they were ruined, if she didn’t think she had a change.”

“She still has the fucking change of clothes!”

“But she hasn’t bought them yet,” Lauren said, quiet but insistent.

There was a pause. Then, slowly, Casey began to smile.

Emily was trembling slightly as she at last stood up, facing the mirror and nervously taking in the full frontal look at herself. It wasn’t like she was ashamed of her appearance, but that was still more than she wanted visible in a store’s fitting room.

Carefully, she reached for the shirt, holding it in front of herself. At least it fit, so-

“Miss?” someone knocked on the door outside.

“Don’t come in!” Emily squeaked.

The woman outside paused. Emily instinctively crossed her arms over her heaving chest, still panting with nerves.

“Have you seen a grey, smart pair of pants and a men’s button-up square pattern shirt?” the shop assistant on the far side of the curtain said.

Emily looked down at what she held in her hands.

“Why?” Emily said, nervous.

“I was meant to be filling a pre-order and I think I dropped them,” the woman said. “Please tell me you’ve seen them.”

“Er…”

Oh, no, this was not fair! They were all she had that was anything approaching decent, especially after her last costume had spontaneously fallen apart. She needed them!

She needed them more than whatever guy had actually placed the order! She didn’t feel any guilt at thinking that, it was just true.

“Please Miss,” the woman’s voice was shaking slightly. “I’ll be fired if you can’t find them, please say if you saw them.”

Emily’s eyes widened. Shit, no, that wasn’t fair, she couldn’t ruin someone’s livelihood over this. The shop assistant sounded so scared…

And it wasn’t like she’d be able to wear them out of the store without being noticed, Emily reflected. Reluctantly, Emily lifted up both garments in one hand and poked them around the side of the curtain.

“Are these them?” Emily said, defeated.

The clothes were snatched out of her hand.

“Thank you, thank you Miss!” the woman said, a dark-skinned hand taking them from her. “Thank you!”

“A- any time,” Emily stuttered.

And that left her with nothing. She sat down again, wriggling a little, not entirely comfortable with the chair against her bare butt. She pushed her hair back, just for something to do, and waited.

She’d tripped over her skirt outside, and her top had fallen off just outside of the fitting rooms too. That should mean she’d at least be able to reclaim her lacking attire, even if it was a downgrade from the suit.

Emily crouched. She didn’t feel like standing proud when she was naked though. Better to be small, fast, and… She listened intently. No footsteps that she could hear; she lifted up the lower corner of the curtain, making sure she couldn’t see the feet of anyone outside.

Taking a deep breath, Emily willed herself to move. She crawled out of her little room, on her hands and knees so as to not be spotted from a distance, and turned-

And saw a bare floor. She froze.

No clothes. Maybe the assistant from before had assumed it was the shop’s property, or just junk, but either way… They were gone. Emily had nothing to wear but her shoes.

And while she was still staring in shock, Emily noticed something else with growing dread. The shop wasn’t empty any more. Somehow dozens, if not hundreds of people had decided now was the time to crowd in.

Slapping a hand over her mouth to keep from screaming, Emily did a rushed one-handed crawl back into the privacy of her fitting room, shaking.

She was due to meet Steph in, oh, forty minutes. And she was naked in the back of a busy shop that also happened to be devoid of anything she could actually wear.

What the hell was she meant to do about this?!