Shopping!

With a homebase now secured, you decided it was time to look the part of a Star Wars Rogue. With this in mind, you have found yourself in some kind of sci-fi mall tower. This place put every mall on planet earth to shame, stretching from the street of this level of Coruscant up hundreds of stories. Inside was a throng of boutiques, workshops, markets, and what could only be described as millions of sentients in a shopping orgy to make black friday look like a Sunday sale. Still, while the Retail Tower, as you were calling it, stood as a monument to the retail gods, it did have it’s quiet spots. With nearly six hundred floors, each a kilometer in length and half that in width, not including stores, it was to be expected that some parts would be nice and quiet. That is where we find you, in a clothing store on the three hundred and seventy fifth floor.

The store was pretty quaint, racks of cloth in various styles and shapes lining the walls and taking up the floor. There sure was a lot of styles dotting the place. In the hour you had been searching for a shop you liked, you had found stores catering to the unique fashions of several dozen individual planets. Not the styles of all those planets combined, but rather one store per world’s fashion catalogue. The store you are currently in was a mixmash of various different styles. From the omnipresent kimono style tunics that Star Wars loves, to some more familiar t-shirt designs. No jeans though, that had you slightly disappointed.

Still, with all the variation to choose from, you had managed to find some sort of selection, taking it into the changing room with you to try on. This, however, is when the plot thickened. You heard a pretty audible click coming from above you and then the sounds of an air conditioner starting up. Wondering why a store would have independent air conditioners on a planet that has environmental controls, you look up and see a faint pink gas lightly descending from a set of small air ducts.

“Mother fucker!” you swear before using your god power to make yourself immune to any and all toxins and ****. Wanting to see exactly what the store had in mind, you stay there and wait, pulling out your brand new LeMat blaster, not that you know what it’s called, from the holster on your thigh and levelling it at the curtain. Not thirty seconds later, your decision is validated by the curtain being drawn and a large man stepped in. He stopped, a confused frown on his face as he looked at you. The man clearly wasn’t too bright because he made to grab you, presumably thinking you were **** or something. You are not **** so you simply pulled the trigger of the very visible blaster in your hand. A loud and distinctive retort sounded in the cramped changing room as a flash of red jumped between you and the would-be trafficker, causing the man to twist around and crumple to the floor. You make sure to step on the man’s corpse as you exit the changing room.

Outside, a lot of people were staring at you and the now dead man, caught like deer in headlights at the strange and potentially deadly scene.

“Attention everyone, these scumbags have hidden vents in the change rooms to gas anyone entering” you declared.

“If that were so ma’am, then why are you not under the effects hmm?” one of the store’s workers asked you, he was probably the owner and had a very smug grin on his face.

“Simple, I paid good money for my cyber mods” you say and the man’s face dropped as he finally noticed you are holding him at gunpoint. “You the owner?” you ask and it looks like someone finally grew a brain as fear etched itself into his face.

“N-n-n-n-no h-he’s gone out to lunch” the man lied, he couldn’t have been more obvious if he tried, especially since the other workers were giving him dirty looks. You scoff before striding out past him, holstering your pistol as you left that shitty store, it didn’t even have anything you really liked anyway.

Outside, taking a temporary break from the hunt for a clothing store you liked, you stopped at what looked like some kind of food court. Despite the fact that the shops were run by aliens, all of them, you still managed to find a burger and some iced tea, no soft drinks though. With sustenance consumed, you resumed your search. It was another hour before you got to a store that was reasonably nice.

Walking in, you immediately noticed how big the store was, not quite a department store, but still for something only selling clothes, it was pretty big.

“Can I help you with anything?” asked a soft spoken forest green Twi’lek who had just materialised beside you.

“You wouldn’t happen to sell clothes here?” You ask, trying for a joke.

“No, sorry, we only sell speeders” the girl fired back with a grin. You snort in amusement before taking another sweeping glance around the room, there was a lot of choice on offer. “Hmm, based on that pistol, you want to go for a sort of rogue look don’t you?” the Twi’lek began again. You turn your attention back to the girl who was studying you intently, a hand on her chin and her eyes glinting as she examined your body.

“Uhh, yeah, something like that” you reply, slightly confused.

“Right this way then!” the girl chirped as she twisted on the spot and took off in the direction of one of the far flung corners. “First on the menu is trousers!” the girl chirped, sweeping her arm along a hanging line of the aforementioned garments. “Personally I think these would look great on you, I just know you are hiding treasure under whatever that is” the girl commented, holding out a pair of what looked like tights while giving your own trousers a disdainful look.

“Hey! These were given to me!” you snap, feeling the need to defend Pink for some reason. The girl however, merely gave you a deadpan look.

“I’m sorry for your loss” she told you gravely. You couldn’t help it, you laughed at her reaction before taking the trousers from her. The girl then led you over to the changing rooms, a curtained off cubicle that you checked over extensively, even using your god powers to tell you if there were any nefarious hidden vents. The trousers presented were, much to your surprise, not at all tight. They went on smoothly and felt like one of those gel things inside those wrist support pads office workers love. Plasticy but also gel like, it felt amazing, and clung in all the right places while moving with you, without any sort of the stretching sensation that you’d normally expect from that type of material. It was a dark colour with a gun metal grey stripe down the outside of each leg and around the knees and arse. Looking at it, you could tell people were going to be staring at your arse a lot as you walk, this only made you grin.

You strutted out of the changing room to find the girl there, this time with a shirt folded over her arm. You gave the girl a twirl and stood with your hands on your hips.

“Still got it” the girl muttered with a grin before handing over the shirt she’d grabbed in the very short time you had been changing. Ducking back into the changing room, you quickly shucked off your own top to try this new one on, it was a white half-sleeve shirt with a collar and a low cut V., it looked kind of like one of those three button shirts but with a V instead of buttons. Slipping the shirt on, you realised it was also rather tight, and made of a smooth microfiber like feeling fabric. It clung to your breasts in a rather comforting way, almost like a hug, and when you turned to look at it in the mirror, it flattered them rather nicely. Your only complaint was the wireframe bra you were wearing. You leave the changing room to find the Twi’lek standing there, this time with a black Corellian jacket.

“I don’t suppose you have bras here?” you ask the chirpy girl who frowned and cocked her head to one side.

“Why? Wearing yours down?” she asked, her eyes drifting to another section of the shop before snapping back on you.

“Uhh, not quite, I’m still using the stuff I brought with me from my homeworld . . . we use wireframe bras” you tell the Twi’lek. Her eyes widened in shock and the girl gasped.

“Why do they **** you so!?” she asked, nearly dropping the jacket.

“It’s tradition” you shrug “nobody likes it, but tradition is tradition” you add. The girl bit her lip before nodding and then rushing you, pushing you back into the change room and somehow closing the curtain behind her. “W-what are you?” you begin as the girl hooks the jacket she had been holding over a convenient hook and gets her fingers under the hem of your shirt. Somehow, without you being exactly sure how, she managed to get your shirt off and was already examining your bra, using the mirror behind you to see what the back of it looked like. “Hang on, can we talk about this a second? Normally I like drinks before we get to sex!” you snap as the girl unclasped your bra and slid it off you. “What sort of retail magic is this? How do you keep stripping me without me doing anything?!” you exclaim. The Twi’lek, however, was focused only on the task at hand, cupping your boobs with her cool, yet not cold, hands and giving them an experimentory squeeze. She then stepped back and took a thinking pose as she eyed you up. Finally, the girl nodded.

“Stay right there!” she chirped before ducking out of the changing room leaving you feeling confused and slightly aroused. Moments later, the girl let herself back into the changing room and tossed an undergarment at you, you caught it as it slid down your breasts and looked at it. You look up at the Twi’lek who is merely staring at you, an analytical gleam in her eyes. The bra was interesting, it slipped on with no clasps or wires or anything of the sort, in fact, it kinda felt like your trousers. The two cups, such as they were, connected to each other at the bust line with only a thumb’s worth of fabric, cupped your boobs but left the sides open so that your shirt would display maximum cleavage and then went over your shoulders into a hand’s worth of fabric on your back. Overall, you are really comfortable, well supported, and sexy as fuck.

“Retail Jedi” you grouch as the girl picked up your shirt and handed it to you, you slipped it on and completed the picture with the jacket she had hung up at the start. There was one final adjustment that needed to be made, you grab your blaster from the other set of trousers and strap it to your thigh, all in all turning you into a badass, sexy rogue, and a very comfortable one at that.

A hand impacted on your arse while you are checking yourself out in the mirror, you turn and look at the Twi’lek who merely giggled and gave you a suggestive wink before leaving the changing room. You shake your head as you turn and leave yourself, looking down at your now former clothes, forgotten on the floor.

“Would you like us to dispose of . . . those?” the Twi’lek asked, pointing at your discarded clothing pile.

“Yes please, and I’d like several more of everything I’m wearing” you say which got a grin from the Twi’lek.

“Oh I do hope you’ll be back for more” she purred “it would be such a . . .” she paused to stare at your cleavage “shame to see you in only that” she finished, locking eyes with you. You suppress a shiver of excitement and instead, looked towards the desk where what looked like a till was sitting. You make your way over to the desk, not even surprised when the Twi’lek shows up behind it before you get there, with a parcel containing several copies of your current outfit, though there was some variation in the shirt and bra set. You also noticed she had subtly included panties, you didn’t say anything as you are sure they will be much more comfortable than the Earth standard ones you are currently using.

“I’ll . . . probably be back” you admit shamefully, the girl’s grin turned predatory.

“Name’s Veryl, I get off in four hours, be back before then” she said, you couldn’t stop the shiver this time. You pay for your clothes and hurry out of the shop. You are confusingly aroused from your time in that place, but the question is now do you go back and have the strangest, and probably best, sex of your life after playing dress-up doll for a crazy Twi’lek? Or do you ditch and run? It’s already crazy enough without sex being thrown into the mix.