FU Clothing

Three floors.

Upper floor - pretty clothing for the girl inside you.

Ground floor - Entrance. No clothes. Only coffee. And me, Mackenzie Welcome to F.U.C Let's get you dressed up.

Basement - skimpy and daring clothing for the slut inside you.

What's it gonna be? Upstairs or Downstairs?

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Closed

After a few months away, it was my first time back at the Store. I guessed the Mall Bosses made some girl sub in for me. Maybe it had changed decor, or had some new makeover just like they do to the guys that fall into this shitty casino's clutches. I knew what I was doing. My head searched for reasons why working here again might not be so bad. It would be new, better than before, it wouldn't be so bad.

The Gentle-man Trap

The new menswear section at FUC looked just like any other regular Gent's outfitters. Dark polished wooden floors. The decor was heavy in both color and style. Designed to put the guy at ease, the ambiance was relaxed and familiar.

All the ingredients to give the unwary shopper their much needed false sense of security. What could possibly happen at a regular gents outfitters? Sure it was staffed by scantily clad assistants but they were only for eye candy weren't they?

Upstairs at FUC

So you made it upstairs?

"Take a look around but don't be overawed with all the feminine attire. Ok, I'm sure you'll be fine."

But doesn't it look tempting? All that pretty lace, smooth satin and ...hey...Are you sweating? Surely not....not at the thought of being

"...LACED into pretty, restrictive corsets."

FUC Ground Floor - Open

It's the new in 'thing' they told me. An empty shop floor. A real entrance. Coffee, comfy seats, bean bags, a place to hang out. I'd be more Hostess than shop assistant but whatever. I was supposed to hang around here and people would be curious enough and enter on in.

I didn't fully get it but I went along with it. From here I was supposed to direct them upstairs for the latest in femme clothing. Downstairs was for the seedier side of femme clothing.

FU Clothing - Downstairs

The Mall Bosses told me it would be ready for opening. A sordid basement floor decorated, dressed and well stocked with every conceivable style of sinful couture and clothing imaginable.

When I arrived and went downstairs for the first time I was greeted by an unfinished dirty work site. What the hell?

It wasn't so much under construction as that would indicate something was ongoing. Of course I informed the Mall Bosses but they only laughed in my face. Think of it as my new venture, an enlarging of my sphere of responsibilty they called it. Ass-holes.