"There it is," Alex hissed, spotting a shop sign ahead.
It looked like a mid-range shop, the kind that attracted adventurers who wanted to look good while killing monsters.
The windows displayed mannequins wearing leather jerkins and reinforced robes.
Alex pushed the door open. A soft chime announced his entry.
The air inside was blissfully cool, conditioned by a silent mana-fan spinning on the ceiling.
"Welcome," a voice called out.
Standing behind a glass counter was a woman who looked like she belonged on a magazine cover.
She was tall, with pointed ears that poked through her hair, a Half-Elf, wearing a dress that hugged her curves, with blonde hair pinned up with silver needles.
She lowered her datapad and looked Alex up and down her eyes held a glimmer of curiosity rather than disgust. "You look like you're in an emergency."
"I... I need clothes," Alex stammered, his voice sounding softer than he intended. He cleared his throat, trying to drop it an octave. "Men's clothes. Something... comfortable. And inner wear."
The woman raised an eyebrow, her gaze lingering on his flushed face and the glowing, pearlescent skin visible at his neck.
"A skin condition?" she repeated, her voice professional but amused. "Or perhaps a shedding phase? We get a lot of shifters here, sweetie. No need to be shy."
Alex froze. "Uh, yeah. Something like that."
She stepped out from behind the counter, her heels clicking on the floor. She circled him once, humming thoughtfully.
She didn't ask about the stain. She simply walked to a shelf lined with neatly folded garments wrapped in plastic.
"Men's clothes?" She raised an eyebrow. "Honey, with that waist and those hips? The men's cuts are going to hang off you like a sack."
Alex flinched. "My hips are fine. I just... lost some weight."
The Half-Elf's expression softened slightly. "I see. This is Shadow-Weave. Spun from the silk of Night Spiders. It regulates temperature, repels moisture, and feels like water against the skin.""
She gestured to a rack on the left. "Go pick something out. I'll grab some basics underneath. What size?"
Alex hesitated. "Small? I guess?"
"I'll bring a few options," she said, winking. "The changing rooms are in the back."
Alex grabbed a bundle of black clothes that looked soft enough and bolted for the changing rooms.
He locked the door behind him and leaned against it, letting out a long, shaky breath.
The room was mirrored on three sides.
"Don't look," Alex told himself.
He peeled off the loose shirt. The shedding had accelerated on his chest; the old, tan skin was gone, replaced entirely by the creamy, white new layer.
His nipples were still erect, pink and puffy, standing out vividly against the pale skin.
"Look at you," the Empress purred. "You're glowing."
Alex ignored her and unbuttoned his jeans. He shoved them down, kicking them into the corner with disdain.
Then came the hard part. The spandex shorts.
"Dammit," he whispered, staring at his reflection.
They were soaked. He peeled them off slowly, wincing as the wet fabric dragged over his hypersensitive cock.
The sensation was overwhelming. As the fabric slid away, the air from the mana-fan hit his skin.
It should have been cold, but his nerves were so rewired that it felt like a static charge ghosting over his thighs.
"Ah..." A shiver rolled up his spine.
He stood there, completely naked in the three-way mirror.
He couldn't look away this time.
His body was... confusing. His shoulders were still somewhat broad, but they sloped gently now.
His waist had definitely cinched in, creating a curve that flowed into hips that looked slightly wider and softer than he remembered.
His legs were hairless, smooth, and defined, not by bulky muscle, but by long, lithe lines.
And then there was his groin.
The skin shedding he had done in the shower earlier was complete. His cock hung there, limp now, but the skin was a vibrant, healthy light pink, devoid of any rugged texture. It looked delicate.
"Status," Alex whispered.
[ Feminization Progress: Phase 1/9 (Ecdysis) - 38% ]
"Almost forty percent," Alex swallowed hard. "Just from walking here?"
"Stress accelerates the process," the Empress noted. "And that little... release in the alleyway helped."
Knock, knock.
"I have the inner wear," the shopkeeper's voice came through the door. "I'm leaving them on the hook."
"Thanks," Alex squeaked.
He waited for her footsteps to fade before opening the door a crack and snatching the hanger.
He stared at the items.
They weren't men's boxers. They weren't exactly panties either. They were "Unisex Active Briefs"... seamless, high-cut, made of a black material that felt very soft.
"She gave me the expensive stuff," Alex muttered.
He stepped into them.
"Oh..." Alex's eyes rolled back slightly. The relief was instantaneous.
The fabric was incredibly soft, cool to the touch, and had no seams to rub against his raw skin. It cupped his package gently, lifting and supporting without the crushing pressure of the compression shorts.
But the cut...
He looked in the mirror. The high cut exposed his entire thigh, making his legs look miles long.
The waistband sat perfectly on his hips, accentuating the curve of his waist.
"It looks like lingerie," Alex groaned, turning sideways.
"It looks good," the Empress corrected. "And it feels divine, doesn't it? Much better than those coarse cotton boxers you call underwear."
Alex had to admit, he didn't want to take them off.
He reached for the pants he had grabbed. They were loose-fitting, black silk-blend pants with an elastic waist and ankle cuffs.
He pulled them on. The silk glided over his legs.
Then he put on a matching inner shirt… a tight, long-sleeved top made of the same soft material as the briefs, and threw a lightweight, dark grey hooded robe over it.
He looked at himself in the mirror.
The reflection staring back at him was confusingly attractive.
He looked... different. Not necessarily weak, but sleek. The tight inner shirt clung to him like a second skin, outlining the faint, softening definition of his chest.
His nipples, still swollen and sensitive, pressed against the thin fabric, visible if anyone looked closely.
The dark grey robe helped, draping over his shoulders to hide their narrowing width, but the open front still framed his torso in a way that felt exposed.
"I look like a mage," Alex muttered, turning to check his profile. The silk pants flowed over his backside, hinting at the new roundness there without being too obvious.
The elastic cuffs at the ankles left his delicate, pale ankles bare.
He gathered his old clothes. They were stiff with sweat, grime, and the dead skin he had shed. Disgust curled in his stomach. He didn't want to touch them, let alone carry them around.
He checked the pockets of his discarded jeans, retrieving his mobile and his ID card, then shoved the old clothes into the waste bin in the corner of the changing room.
"Good riddance," he whispered.