Jime searched the shopping district for a few minutes before finding what she was looking for. A long, vertical sign with bright neon lettering: "Britches and Hose Clothing." It hung over a dingy basement entrance that looked like the kind of place where hobos peed. A small flight of stairs led down to a door reinforced by dull iron bars, with a smaller sign on it which repeated the text of the larger one. Beneath it was a reversible placard, which had been flipped to 'Open.'
Jime opened the door, and stepped inside. The air was musty with the smell of some kind of smoked narcotics, a small puff of it escaping out into the street above as she entered. The room was darkly lit, with black lights shining down on the merchandise that lined the walls. The entire room was painted black, adding to the abyssal sensation. Alternative techno buzzed down from unseen speakers. Though the volume wasn't high, the bass was turned all the way up, making her tremor down to the bones with every note. She stepped in, her shoes puckering softly on the rubbery flooring.
The store was mostly unoccupied, two clerks dressed in chains and leather smoking on a beat-up old couch behind the counter. Two customers were pressed against the back wall, partially obscured by a clothing rack. The unseen female's arms gripped tightly to the back of the male's trench coat, and a fishnetted leg hooked around him. The brief lulls in the hum of the music were interspersed by her unambiguous moans.
A female sales associate emerged from the small video section by the door, approaching Jime. The Yamataian was dressed in a latex one-piece, barely. The sides had been cut out, leaving only a small strip over her belly button connecting the two halves. The neck cut sagged precariously down into what was easily distinguishable as at least a D-cup bust. Her garter belt held up her smooth black stockings, which rose up out of a pair of heavy-soled high-top boots. She tilted her head slightly at Jime, seeming to bend at the tight, heart-pinned choker she wore. Her dark, wavy, elbow-length hair flowed down her back, a few strands hanging playfully over her shoulders. Long, narrow eyebrows accentuated her seductive brown eyes, the only things that stood out on her deathly pale face besides the deep blue lipstick her tongue was fervently tasting. One bare arm jutted out as she put a hand on her cocked hip. The other brought her little finger to the edge of her mouth, its short, well-manicured nail seemingly as enticing to her tongue as the lipstick.
She spoke, seemingly more focused on staring into Jime's eyes than what she was actually saying. "Welcome home, darling. Is there anything I can help you find? If you don't see what you're looking for, perhaps we have it in the special back room section." Her soothing, lacy voice took exquisite joy in her words, nonetheless. Jime smirked, her unblinking eyes fixed on those of the other woman. "Perhaps just some work-friendly clothing for now. Latex. Tight." The Yamataian smiled enticingly, tilting her head a bit more. "Mmm, of course. We have our clothing for less, ah, private occasions right over here..."
About an hour later, Jime emerged from the store, dressed in a form-fitting latex shirt and leggings, with a yellow and blue leather race jacket on over it. A pair of leather belts hung diagonally in either direction around her waist. The wardrobe was rounded out by a pair of blue PVC boots and her SACOS. She hung her nondescript brown paper bag of clothing under one arm, and headed back to her apartment.
Jime opened the door, and stepped inside. The air was musty with the smell of some kind of smoked narcotics, a small puff of it escaping out into the street above as she entered. The room was darkly lit, with black lights shining down on the merchandise that lined the walls. The entire room was painted black, adding to the abyssal sensation. Alternative techno buzzed down from unseen speakers. Though the volume wasn't high, the bass was turned all the way up, making her tremor down to the bones with every note. She stepped in, her shoes puckering softly on the rubbery flooring.
The store was mostly unoccupied, two clerks dressed in chains and leather smoking on a beat-up old couch behind the counter. Two customers were pressed against the back wall, partially obscured by a clothing rack. The unseen female's arms gripped tightly to the back of the male's trench coat, and a fishnetted leg hooked around him. The brief lulls in the hum of the music were interspersed by her unambiguous moans.
A female sales associate emerged from the small video section by the door, approaching Jime. The Yamataian was dressed in a latex one-piece, barely. The sides had been cut out, leaving only a small strip over her belly button connecting the two halves. The neck cut sagged precariously down into what was easily distinguishable as at least a D-cup bust. Her garter belt held up her smooth black stockings, which rose up out of a pair of heavy-soled high-top boots. She tilted her head slightly at Jime, seeming to bend at the tight, heart-pinned choker she wore. Her dark, wavy, elbow-length hair flowed down her back, a few strands hanging playfully over her shoulders. Long, narrow eyebrows accentuated her seductive brown eyes, the only things that stood out on her deathly pale face besides the deep blue lipstick her tongue was fervently tasting. One bare arm jutted out as she put a hand on her cocked hip. The other brought her little finger to the edge of her mouth, its short, well-manicured nail seemingly as enticing to her tongue as the lipstick.
She spoke, seemingly more focused on staring into Jime's eyes than what she was actually saying. "Welcome home, darling. Is there anything I can help you find? If you don't see what you're looking for, perhaps we have it in the special back room section." Her soothing, lacy voice took exquisite joy in her words, nonetheless. Jime smirked, her unblinking eyes fixed on those of the other woman. "Perhaps just some work-friendly clothing for now. Latex. Tight." The Yamataian smiled enticingly, tilting her head a bit more. "Mmm, of course. We have our clothing for less, ah, private occasions right over here..."
About an hour later, Jime emerged from the store, dressed in a form-fitting latex shirt and leggings, with a yellow and blue leather race jacket on over it. A pair of leather belts hung diagonally in either direction around her waist. The wardrobe was rounded out by a pair of blue PVC boots and her SACOS. She hung her nondescript brown paper bag of clothing under one arm, and headed back to her apartment.
