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Story: Nightshift in the cloth store
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It had been a long week since my boss called me with that great news. I was so excited... But let me start from the beginning.
I've been working at our thrift store for about two months now. It's a quiet job with low pay. I'm not a complete idiot—in fact, I try to be reliable and responsible. Because of that, my boss trusts me. And that's saying something. He owns several bars, gambling halls, pawn shops, and similar businesses around the district. People say he's some kind of mafia guy. He can be a little intimidating, but he likes me. After only a month, he put me in charge of the store. I don't cause problems, I keep everything organized, so Igor (yeah, that's his name) is happy to have one less thing to worry about. Sometimes he even praises me and gives me an extra thousand crowns. Easygoing guy.
It happened one day while I was sorting through women's clothing. The store was already closed, and I was there alone. Well, not entirely honest—ever since childhood, I'd been somewhat fascinated by trying on my sister's and mother's clothes. That day I couldn't resist. There were beautiful garments of all colors and sizes: panties, thongs, mini skirts, stockings, leggings, tops, shorts, bras—basically everything a young woman might wear to feel attractive and sexy. And everything had just been washed and smelled wonderful.
I felt like trying it all on. The store is located in a basement, with all the windows covered, but I was still worried that Igor might unexpectedly show up. It was tempting. So I took home a few of the pieces I liked most—mostly various panties, stockings, and thigh-highs, but also a bra, a pink top, a mini skirt, and a nice pair of denim shorts. I left money in the cash register, locked up, and headed home.
On the way home I kept imagining trying everything on, and I was already excited. At home I took a quick shower and shaved myself. It felt great to be completely smooth. I arranged mirrors around my room and finally started putting on a pair of black lace panties over my slim legs. I'd never felt so excited before.
The panties fit perfectly. They were a little tight, but because of that they gave me a very feminine silhouette. I kept looking at myself over and over again, unable to get enough. Then I pulled on a pair of red striped thigh-high socks. I loved the feeling, and they suited me. After that came the bra, the pink top, and the denim shorts. It looked amazing.
Unfortunately, it was already late and I still had things to do, so I started changing back—except for the panties and stockings, which I kept on under my regular clothes when I went outside. I even slept in them. The next morning I changed into another pair and went to work.
From that day on, I dressed that way almost all the time. I felt genuinely good in it and was constantly excited by the anticipation of trying on new outfits. Every evening after closing the store, I'd pick out new clothes to wear. It became an obsession. New panties, skirts, tops, and other pieces every day. Eventually I even got high-heeled shoes and a blonde wig with pigtails. The transformation felt complete, and every evening I would look at myself in the mirror, admiring the image staring back at me.
I didn't want to steal, though, so it started costing me a lot of money. And many of the clothes didn't fit, which meant they often went unused.
One evening I found myself wondering what it would be like to actually be a woman—to be attractive, desirable, admired by men, and able to command their attention. The idea represented a dramatic shift in the way I thought about myself. Part of me found it strange, while another part found it fascinating and intensely exciting.
I tried to imagine someone specific, to see how that fantasy would feel. Right then, the phone rang.
I answered.
"Hey, Michal. You're not asleep, are you? Good. I've got a favor to ask..."
It was Igor.
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Posted on : May 31, 2026
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