In many ways, there's a great modern mystery that lurks throughout our cities, but only for a scant month or so every year. It's a place that seems to be there one moment and is gone again the next, returning once again a year later. Sometimes they're in the same space, other times they seem to move at random, but they always seem to inhabit old and abandoned buildings. Nobody really seems to know where they disappear to in their off season, they're simply empty and gone. Most people barely think about these places even during their season, and nobody seems to truly question their appearance and disappearance. 

Perhaps it has something to do with the magic of the season. Perhaps there's something more sinister afoot. In either case, they seem to leave our collective consciousness just as fast as they arrive and disappear. 

I'm talking, of course, about Halloween Stores.

To be sure, there's something weird about them. But they're not the actual subject of my story today. It is, however, closely related. There is just something about those stores that has entered the cultural zeitgeist, something that I'm not sure is original to them. In a similar respect, there is another type of store that has entered the cultural zeitgeist in much the same way. It's the shop known for its cursed items or the sacrifice made to be able to purchase exotic and occult items. Those stores that sell you items that might as well be deals with the devil himself. While Mr. King does spin a fanciful tale, I believe that he, too, is not the originator of this mythos. 

Personally, I believe that what I have come to call "The Wandering Costume Shop" to be the originator of both of those myths. In fact, I fully believe that the stories I have heard are true, spoken from the lips of its very victims. 

What neither of those more known myths seems to get straight, however, is what the shop actually does. 

Generally, it appears at the edge of town. It's either a curiosity or basically the only option around when its victim needs it. It entices the curious with an odd and eclectic assortment of sensual and stylish wear. For others, it offers the more traditional "slutty" halloween costumes one would expect. It's almost always the only shop of its kind in the area. It's definitely the only thing open late and/or close enough for those who desperately need something for a costume party. 

In either case, once a victim is lured in, they are given an "offer" they can't refuse. In exchange for an outfit that fits their desires or needs, they must give up something of themselves. For a great many of its victims, this is at least their manhood. For others, they lose something more ethereal such as their intelligence, career choices, or even something as simple as their sense of fashion. Truly, I don't believe that anyone who enters the shop can ever get out unchanged. 

These claims are very difficult to track down, and most definitely impossible to prove. The only individual that ever believes something has been taken away is the victim. Every other individual in their lives, every scrap of physical or digital evidence shows them to have always been the person that they are now. One and all, it seems as though the victims were always the over-sexualized pictures of humanity that they appear to be. Further, the store is always gone before the victim has a chance to return. Disappeared as if it had never been there at all. 

These are the stories of the shop's victims.

***

"What do you think, bro? Too much?"

"You look fine," I replied.

It was a simple reply and not even the whole truth. My step-sister did not just look fine. She looked absolutely incredible in her outfit for the costume party. She had opted for a sexy, slutty nurse outfit. Her hair was tied back in a long ponytail with a nurse's cap atop her head. A white latex skirt and a matching white latex shirt hugged her curvy figure, leaving nothing to the imagination. The only splash of color on the outfit was the pink and blue piping that marked her as an RN.

"You're no help," she replied.

"Hey, I'm serious. You'd kill a room in just about anything, and the host did specify that costumes were supposed to, and I quote, 'slut it the hell up'!" I threw myself back onto the bed. Frustrated that I didn't find a costume that the host would have accepted in time. I had literally ordered 3 different ones and each of them had either been canceled or delayed at the last minute. Heck, the order that I didn't ultimately cancel was set to show up the next day, first thing in the morning. A mere 10 hours too late.

"She put a very particular inflection on the word 'slut'." I said, only a little of my bitterness leaking out.

"It's gonna be ok," my sister said, sitting on the bed next to me. "She'll understand. And you'll get some other party to go to before the holiday's over."

"Her understanding isn't going to get me in the door to what will easily be the hottest party of the season." I grumped. Even if my step-sister's, Alexia's, best friend Clara wasn't one of the most popular girls in town, and someone I'd had a crush on for ages, this party was bound to become an actual fuck-fest. Her telling everyone to wear costumes literally just short of fetishwear would practically guarantee that. As such, Clara had been incredibly picky about both the guest list and the costume rules. Nobody that she felt like wouldn't at least take their partner for the night out on a date after being invited, and nobody on the list wearing something up to both her quality and sexiness standards would be allowed in, let alone to any of her other parties in the future.

Alexia and Clara had been friends for almost 3 years, and she was the only person that my sister knew who was able to pull off what had become an annual tradition. She always got the best DJ, the best food, the best drinks, and the best guest list for a Halloween Party. She'd also gotten a reputation for it, and everyone was dying to get an invite.

"If it was that important, then you could have ordered a costume days or weeks ago and had it delivered," she pointed out.

"I did!" I retorted. "I ordered one a month ago, from a serious cosplay crafter I might add, knowing how big of a deal it would be to Clara! They canceled on me with only a week and a half left to go. I've even ordered multiple more since then, knowing I can't just go grab some off the rack crap from the local Halloween Express. All but one of those has fallen through, and it was delayed until tomorrow."

"You could have called her, she'd have let you in. Hell, if you wanted, she'd probably have even brought you a costume to try on."

"You know I could never ask her for that," I said, sighing. I knew that she would have come through for me, but only as her best friend's brother. This party was supposed to be my chance to impress her, maybe even work up the courage to ask her out. If not that, at least I could have held my head proud in at least partially earning my own way in. Certainly a good custom outfit would have at least endeared me to one of the other hotties in attendance. 

"I still think you should have asked her," Alexia said. "But that ship has sailed. I'm sorry, bro."

"Eh, it's fine," I replied, trying to brush it off. "Honestly, it might be for the better that I sit this one out if I couldn't source my own costume."

"Bullshit," she said, "I've seen the way you look at her, and the way you've looked at the rest of the girls in her social circle. You've been dreaming of this party for months, and I've seen how many costumes you've ordered. Don't tell me you aren't interested."

"No, I'm not interested," I shot back, trying to sound indignant, "I'm desperate. You've seen the kinds of costumes that get worn to this party. There's just no way I would ever live down begging Clara for help... Again..." I finished with a sigh.

"Again?"

"When you two were freshmen, you remember how the school's costume contest was right before Halloween? When Clara and I went and won for the most ridiculous couple?"

"How could I forget, you won in drag."

"That was all her idea. Something about how the rules only allowed straight couples, and she wanted to throw it in their faces. I was the safest choice for a partner, being her best friend's brother. That, and I had completely forgotten a costume that year, so knowing her skills with the art I went and begged her for help. Honestly, I'm not sure if my begging her came before or after she had decided to dress her partner in drag."

"Yeah, that sounds like her," Alexia chuckled. "Still, though, she'd probably have let you in the front door. You're her best friend's brother, after all."

"You know it'd be a different story if I wasn't your brother, and that's kinda the point. If I want anything to happen, with any girl at that party, I have to have the self-respect to not go playing that card just to get in the door."

"Oh, yeah, right," she said. "Well, maybe you can make the most of it? I mean, I know I will."

"Of course you will, sis. Any lucky ladies you have your eye on tonight?" I asked with a knowing smirk. Alexia prided herself on hunting down the girls that could never even conceive of being bi, let alone lesbian, and rocking their world hard enough that even the notion of straight is left in the dust.

"Well, maybe a few," she admitted. "Clara's been a bit distracted this year, and hasn't really given me any new targets."

"Distracted?"

"I think she's been looking for someone, but not just a random fling. Like she's trying to find a girlfriend or something. But, I dunno. I could just be projecting or something."

"Hmm," I said, thoughtfully. That actually didn't really surprise me. Clara had always been bi, preferring girls. She'd broken off her last serious fling almost a year ago, and had barely even dipped her toes into the dating pool since then. 

Shit. This probably would be the best chance I've ever gotten, and Alexia knew it. I know she mostly wanted me there to be her foot in the door, but damn if she wasn't right.

"Okay, jeez... You could be more subtle about it when I try to change the topic next time. But fine, I'll cave. I'll run to every last minute shop I can find before the party. If I can find something I think will be even close to meeting Clara's standards, I'll buy it and meet up with you. That work?"

"Sure thing, bro," she said, grinning. "You wanna just head over there together?"

"That sounds good," I replied. "If I get stuck somewhere, I'll give you a call. But I wouldn't expect any kind of miracle. Costume stores rarely have anything up to Clara's standards, and basically never this close to Halloween."

"Don't worry, you've got the time. I'm gonna be getting ready for the next hour or so. Maybe longer."

"Oh, really? Got your eye on a specific girl or two, huh?"

"I think so, and I think they'll be a little tougher than normal. I'll have a lot of competition this year, and I'm not sure they're the type to take another girl home, regardless of the party."

"Isn't that what you always aim for though?"

"Not really. It's the straight girls that are the real challenge. But it's always the ones that are the toughest to crack are the most rewarding. It's like when you get a girl that thinks she's straight. She'll resist a little longer, fight harder, and be more stubborn. But once she accepts herself, it's like there's nothing else in the world."

"Fair enough," I replied, knowing that she could keep going all day on this subject. Alexia wasn't one to settle down, always relishing the chase. She'd left more than her fair shair of newly bi chicks high and dry in the world of queer dating.

"Don't spend too much time on your makeup, sis. You know you tend to overthink it if you take too long. I'm going to do some research on what's still open this late."

"Will do, Frank. See ya."

As I stepped out the door, I took a moment to look over her. Alexia and I were fairly similar in appearance. Same dirty blonde hair, same pale skin, and both of us were just barely 5'7". It was practically uncanny that we were step-siblings. Unfortunately, I could almost pass as her flat-chested little sister on most nights. It always felt so unjust that she got all the women, but honestly she knew how to put on a show for them. I was often just happy not being bullied.

I stepped out of the room and pulled out my phone. It wasn't likely anything was going to be open past 8, but I had promised that I would look. If I was lucky, one of the shitty box stores might be open still. Even if the selection was garbage, they'd probably have a cheap option.

I started off by doing a search on google, finding the nearest big box store. The uber ride took up 20 minutes, and by the time I was done the place was already closed. Stupid traffic always seemed to be out to get me. There just had to be an accident on the highway at this time of night. 

Once again, I pulled out my phone, desperately looking for anything that might provide me with a good outfit for Clara's party. Hell, I felt like I would even take a shop like something out of some devil-deal based horror story. So long as it got me into Clara's good graces, there's a lot I could sacrifice.

Unfortunately, it seemed like the search was turning up a big old goose egg. Even the specialty shops were closed this late in the night. The only thing left on my list was a costume shop that had recently opened up just outside of town.

Checking out the address, I noticed it had the good fortune of being on my way to Clara's. Even seemed like a solid place for Alexia to pick me up if I had any luck. 

It was an old warehouse style building that was just a few blocks off the highway, and seemed to have just opened up this month. The shop seemed like it was just one of those Halloween pop ups that appeared at the edge of town every year, and I was surprised that the store hadn't shown up previously when I'd looked. The info around the web was scarce, barely even a facebook page, but every pic I could see looked like it was a top-quality women's costume. 

No idea why they only had pics of women's costumes up, but honestly the info about this place was scarce enough that I was surprised I had even found pictures at all. I would be surprised if they actually didn't have anything for men. Honestly, at this point, I would probably even consider going in drag. It wouldn't be the first time I'd done that for Clara, and it might just get me the kind of attention I wanted anyways.

I'd have to hope that the owner wouldn't care that the pics on the website were a lie, or that they were even real. They looked real enough. Hell, the owner might not have even put them up, the facebook page looked like it was made a good five or six years ago, but it wasn't updated.

My ride pulled up to what still felt like a fully abandoned building. Really, the only reasons I knew it wasn't still abandoned were the fresh tarp sign proudly proclaiming "Costumes!" and the dim, nearly broken, light next to the door flickering 'Yes, we're open!' in what felt like either sheer irony or a true dedication to the halloween spirit. 

Walking up to the door, I checked the time. Only 20 minutes until the party, but hopefully this was worth the shot.

I walked through the door, the bell clanging above. There was a checkout stand set up right next to the door, but nobody manned the desk. There were racks of gorgeous costumes on display, mannequins decked out in full slutty attire, and still the building felt abandoned. Wrong even. 

A chill went up my spine as I called out, "Hello? Anyone here?"

There was no answer, but the light bulb above the counter flickered. I took that as a sign and moved over towards the desk.

"Um, okay... Do you have any men's costumes?" I asked the air.

Once again, the bulb flickered, and a piece of paper drifted down from somewhere up above.

"Thanks," I said, hoping the person upstairs could hear me.

I opened up the piece of paper, reading, "Costumes in the back, on the right, in the basement."

"Great, the basement."

I made my way through the racks and displays, unnervingly full of clothes and costumes with what appeared to be no form of organization. One of the best witch outfits I'd ever seen was racked right next to a skimpy neon thing that wouldn't look out of place at a strip joint. Still, not a damn thing to be seen was for a man. Guess all of those were relegated to the basement.

Finally, I got to the door marked "basement", and took a deep breath. It wasn't like the stairs leading down were in bad condition or anything. Actually, the steps were the nicest part of the store. Despite them leading down into a dark abyss, I was determined to come out of this place with an appropriate costume.

"This place had better have a costume that'll really let me grab Clara's attention." I said aloud before carefully taking the plunge down the stairs. When I finally reached the bottom, there was still no light to be seen. A rustle of fabric sounded off somewhere in the basement.

"Hello? Anyone there?" I asked, trying to get used to the low light of the room. Before the words had even fully exited my mouth, the door above me on the stairs, the only source of light I had, slammed shut behind me.

"What the hell?"

I quickly rushed over to the door, trying desperately to push or pull it open. But it was locked tight.

"Hey! Is anyone there? Let me out!"

A single light bulb flickered on, and I got a view of what felt like the entire world. A single rack of costumes stood off to my right, and the rest of the room was covered in racks, shelves, and displays.

To my dismay, still not a single masculine-looking costume adorned the various storage spaces. 

The room had a feeling of a haunted house, and I half-expected a monster to jump out of the shadows.

With the door behind me not so much as budging a millimeter, I decided that I needed to at least explore the space below me. I made my way back down the stairs and into  the mass of costumes. There had to be another exit here somewhere, and I still needed to find a costume if nothing else.

The costumes were surprisingly well taken care of, with no mothballs or other damage anywhere. Not even a speck of dust to be found. The only reason that would make sense is if the outfits were new, but it was absurd to me that so many articles of clothing with such clear handcrafted quality would all be new. It's possible that they were extremely well taken care of, but considering how abandoned and haunted this place felt, I had my doubts.

I eventually reached the end of the racks, finding a section of the room where there were no shelves, only a wall.

I looked around for any sign of an exit, but I found none.

Just as I found myself pressing against the wall, another rustle sounded out from the room behind me. I turned, trying to catch the perpetrator, only to see costumes shaking on their rack as if someone had bumped against them.

"Is someone there?" I asked, but received no answer.

"I'm sorry, but this place is scaring the shit out of me. Is there anyone else here?"

A loud bang came from the other side of the room, and I quickly made my way towards it, hoping that this was all just some form of elaborate Halloween prank. 

As I moved towards the sound, fabric kept brushing against my arms. I wasn't exactly barging straight through the racks, so the clothing almost seemed to reach out and touch me. I ignored the nagging feeling in my mind in my rush to find whoever was doing this to me.

When I got to the source of the noise, it was only another shelf of clothing, and nobody was in sight.

"What the fuck..." I said, exasperated, "Who the hell is messing with me?"

As I was looking around the space, a soft brush against the back of my neck startled me. I spun around, thinking I'd find someone sneaking up on me. Instead, the only thing I could see was the mannequin standing there, dressed up in a skimpy cop outfit. It reminded me of something out of Reno 911, skimpy booty shorts that barely even covered the ass cheeks and all. 

For a second, I thought it was something I could pull off. I mean, it was at least more thematically masculine than most of the outfits down here. That wasn't what was important though. 

Carla, being the queer liberal drama geek that she was probably wouldn't find the humor in a cop outfit. She was really who I wanted to make an impression on tonight. My mind drifted to thoughts of her and what kind of costumes she would like as I scoured the racks. 

Call it nerves, fear, or whatever you want, I just found it easier in that moment to be occupied by anything other than the freak occurrences that were happening to me.

An exaggerated pimp costume was a thought, she would find it hilarious that I had stepped so far out of character. Something renfaire oriented would probably do well assuming I could make it 'slutty' like she asked. Hell, something from one of her favorite plays like Hairspray would probably work wonders as well.

In the end, all of these ideas fell short. If I was going to try and get Clara to see me, then I would have to go for something special. The fact that I was stuck in some creepy costume shop was a little weird, but it didn't mean I was going to give up. I kept moving through the costumes, hoping to find something perfect.

As I passed by yet another rack, something seemed to snag on my leg. I stumbled and fell forward, tipping over another rack in my way. Landing roughly on a pile of elaborate outfits, the air rushed out of my lungs. In an instant I was stunned, dazed, and left vulnerable laying on a pile of fabric cut into many different feminine costumes.

Something began to slide across my leg, and I quickly realized the feeling. It was fabric. Something in these clothes was moving, unnaturally so, and pulling at my shoes.

I attempted to kick at whatever was touching me, but my movements were restricted somehow. All I really managed to do was kick off the shoe that was being pulled at.

I attempted to roll over, get away from the offending garment, and ended up only further entangling myself.

"Get off me!" I yelled, thrashing in an attempt to remove the offending articles of clothing. Amid all the movement and violence, my other shoe came off. Somehow my socks went with them. By the time I had crawled free of the mass of clothes, my feet were bare and my socks and shoes were nowhere in sight. 

"What the hell is going on here?" I shouted to the basement.

"Someone put me on the spot and is messing with me. Why don't you show yourself instead of being a cowardly little shit?"

Nothing but silence met my request.

"Fine. Have it your way," I said, moving back to the area where I had last seen the costumes moving on their own.

I quickly began searching the area for my shoes, but it seemed like they were long gone.

As I was digging through the clothes, I felt something catch on my pants. I batted away whatever it was with my hand, only for something else to catch on the other side. This time I twisted around to try and catch whoever was messing with me. Instead, my pants felt like they had been gripped on both sides. As I twisted inside my own pants, I fell forward once again into the pile of fabric.

Completing the twist to land on my back, I finally saw what was happening, and it shocked me to my core.

What I saw as I turned around was a pair of costumes. Both of them were fully filled out as if a woman were wearing them, but there was nothing where a woman's skin should be. They were literally just clothes floating in the air on their own.

The left outfit was a bright pink maid's uniform. The dress was poofy, and the top of the dress had a white collar with a little frilly black bowtie. The invisible body occupying the thing was... well, calling it "generous" would be a vast understatement. The poofy off-the-shoulder sleeves were only just barely visible around the edges of the stretched blouse, and even that only because I knew where to look by seeing where the elbow-length silk gloves ended.

The skirt was poofy, ending not even midway down the thigh. A frilly apron was wrapped around the waist, the cloth extending just enough to cover the wearer's crotch, and the bottom was only barely visible beneath the skirt. Soft white stockings, almost translucent, filled out as if they were shapely legs stretching all the way up onto the thigh, just barely under where the skirt ended. 

The whole ensemble finished in what I could only deem hot pink shiny stripper heels.

The outfit on the right, on the other hand, was a much more conservative business suit. Well, relatively conservative at least. The skirt was still very short, coming down not even halfway to the knees. It was paired with a bright blue blazer, matching the skirt, and a white button up blouse that was just tight enough to show hints of a black lace bra tucked underneath. Several of the top buttons were open in a way that would normally expose a bounty of flesh. Oddly, this outfit included a set of gloves as well. The white leather gloves went up and stopped right below the elbows. Below the skirt were a pair of pantyhose clad legs that had the same level of detail and shape as the maid.

The two outfits were currently attempting to drag me out of my pants. I quickly attempted to grab onto my pants and pull myself away, but the two outfits seemed to have insane grip. It really didn't help that this whole situation was somehow arousing. It was as if two very voluptuous, very invisible women were literally trying to claw my clothes off.

I was not about to be defeated by a pair of animated clothing, even if it did feel incredibly good.

"Just let go! This is stupid, and you need to stop." I demanded. But just then, something changed and a shadow passed over my face. I looked up, only to see a pair of stockings straddling my head leading straight up a skirt to a pair of filled out panties. Right before those panties dropped straight onto my face.

The feeling of warm cotton pressed against my face, and the sweet smell of a woman. The combination was intoxicating, and I found myself instinctively sticking out my tongue. The taste was... different, and not just because I had a pair of panties pressed against my mouth. There was an odd warmth, maybe even a hint of moisture coming from the fabric. It tasted, smelled, felt almost exactly like a woman was frantically mashing her cunt against my face.

In the midst of the scent and taste, the feeling of the animated panties rubbing against my face was sending signals of pleasure straight to my dick.

"Oh god, that feels so good." I moaned.

Before I could continue indulging, the two outfits pulled my pants completely off, leaving me in only my boxers from the waist down . The pussy-panties were still sitting atop my head, but the suits were moving to get a grip on my remaining clothing.

One of the costumes grabbed the waistband of my boxers, lifting them to pull them off. Just as you were going to attempt to mount a defense however, I felt the silk gloves of the maid costume slide down my hips before gripping my erect cock.

"Fuck! That's- Oh my god."

I couldn't even complete the sentence, muffled as it was by the panty-pussy smothering me.

The feeling of warm, silk gloved hands stroking my member was a feeling I had never experienced before, and I didn't want it to end. The distraction clearly worked as I felt my boxers slide past my feet. 

As hot as all of this was, I couldn't assume that whatever was happening was good for me. Hell, it isn't as though these things, whatever they were, could actually have sex.

The realization of the absurdity of the situation hit me like a ton of bricks.

I was getting jerked off by a pair of gloves floating as if they were attached to an invisible body filling out the rest of a floating maid costume. Some other outfit was grinding her assumedly non-existent pussy against my face. Some kind of secretarial slut made of clothes was ripping my own clothes off. I was horribly confused, locked in the basement of some creepy costume shop, and this was probably the most aroused I'd ever been.

All the while, my erection was growing harder and harder. I felt like I was about to cum any second, and the idea that this would all be over after that was the only thing keeping me from exploding into the silken embrace.

And then, just as I was getting to the point where I couldn't hold back anymore, the feeling vanished. The panties lifted off of my face and the hands left my member.

"What the hell?"

The maid outfit rushed to my right, and the suit to my left. Before I really knew what was going on, they had my hands lifted above my head. Looking up, that's when I saw the whole of the outfit that had been sitting on my face: a slutty schoolgirl costume. The top was a loose-fitting button-up blouse. The white top was completely unbuttoned, showing off the black, lacy push-up bra that barely contained the massive breasts that the shirt was meant to hide. A pink plaid miniskirt was so short it was almost a belt, and beneath the skirt was a matching pair of black lace panties. A pair of pink knit gloves floated freely by the sides of the shirt, but the outfit was completed by a pair of black, thigh-high stockings and pink heels so tall I couldn't imagine anyone walking in them.

Stunned by the appearance of the outfit that had just been smothering me, I didn't react when its gloves reached down and grabbed the hem of my shirt.

I snapped out of my daze just in time to watch the animated schoolgirl costume rip off my shirt in one smooth motion, leaving me naked and exposed in front of the other outfits.

It was in that moment, simply laying there nude, that I realized how futile my struggle had been.

"Okay! Now what?" I asked while giving the costumes the stink eye. "It wasn't as if you guys needed my shirt off for whatever crazy sex shit you were doing... So, what is all this crazy shit about?"

I was met with nothing but silence.

"Oh, you don't get to play silent anymore! You got me naked, what else do you want from me?"

In response, the maid costume reached down to my ankles, grasping a pair of panties from the pile of clothes I was laying on.

"Oh, come on! Do you really think that is going to fool anybody? That's the exact opposite of what I'm supposed to look like."

The maid costume didn't seem to care. It spread out the fabric, and moved to pull it up my recently bared legs.

I quickly tried to scramble away from the costume, but I didn't get far.

The maid costume had a tight grip on the panties and the other costumes quickly got a tight grip on me. In my effort to flee, I had actually moved further into the reach of the other costumes.

The schoolgirl costume grabbed onto my legs, the business suit grabbed my arms, and the maid costume slid the underwear up my legs.

They were soft and warm, a stark contrast from the cool air in the basement.

As soon as the warm fabric of the panties touched my dick, something changed. All of the sudden, it was as if the maid costume had never stopped jerking my cock. The sensation of warm, tight, moist walls squeezing and sliding along my cock.

My body reacted almost instantly.

I thrust forward, trying to push as much of my cock into the feeling.

"Oh god, this is incredible!" I moaned into the costumes' embraces. "What the hell are you all doing to me?"

Despite wanting to struggle, my body seemed to rebel against me. Something was happening inside the slim black thong that had been forced onto me. I doubted it was something I could resist even if I had a will like a fortress.

Whatever was going on, it felt amazing. The panties were somehow mimicking the feeling of a tight pussy. A pair of warm, moist, velvet walls sliding around my cock. It wasn't a real vagina, but the feeling was so realistic.

"Please! This is too much. What are you doing?" I groaned.

The schoolgirl costume slid her hands up my bare torso, tracing lines along the sides of my chest. Her hands moved slowly, teasing me, as they reached my nipples.

My arms snapped forward in an attempt to prevent the costume from playing with my nipples. It seemed, however, that this was exactly what the costumes had wanted. The sudden forward motion of my arms allowed the maid dress and business suit to thrust my arms through the shoulder straps of a large-cupped push-up bra. The black lace of the thing clearly paired with the thong that was already groping me.

The instant the cups of the bra fell over my chest, I could feel my nipples start to harden. The cold lace and the friction it created caused an almost instantaneous reaction. The clasp locked behind my back, and I knew in that moment that I was lost to the whims of these things. The sensations assaulting my cock and chest were more intense than anything I had ever felt before. My body was rebelling, thrusting against the panties as the other costumes slid the cups of the bra against my nipples.

I could feel myself starting to lose control, and there was nothing I could do about it.

The schoolgirl costume, seeing me losing it, started to run her gloved hands through my hair.

The combination of stimulation, pleasure, and arousal was becoming too much for me.

"God, what the hell is going on?" I asked aloud, with no answer in return. This was all pure insanity, like something out of a drug-induced haze. Is that what was happening to me? 

Had I gone and grabbed something far outside my weight class in despair or frustration over the party?

I didn't truly think it was likely. Not only had I avoided easier options out of pride, but this whole experience seemed far too coherent for any bender I'd ever been on before. Not that I'd done anything strong enough to really be sent on such a trip before.

It was only after those thoughts had fully manifested that I got even a semblance of an answer to my question. A fourth outfit stepped out in front of me, one that I immediately knew I was meant to wear. I knew solely because I recognized immediately that it would fulfill my earlier request, my ideal desires for this evening. The outfit in front of me would certainly grab and hold Clara's attention.

It was a sexy version of the traditional vampire hunter outfit. The coat was dark leather, a long coat with tails, and a wide brimmed hat. The hat and jacket were lined with red on the inside. Fishnet mesh coated both what would be the arms and legs, running right up the respective leather gloves and calf-high combat boots. It was all dark leather and tight fitting clothes, the exact kind of outfit you'd expect to see on the cover of some schlocky urban fantasy romance or harem novel. Probably leaning a bit towards the latter considering the target audience's preference for curves. Hell, the thing could easily fit in at most cons I've been to and even a few ren faires with just a few changes.

Even as stunned as I was, as much as I knew this outfit represented exactly what I wanted to be wearing tonight, I still recoiled from it. A clear realization had settled in alongside the knowledge that this outfit was meant for me.

This outfit, while clearly meant to be worn by me, was not meant for me as I am now.

The worn denim shorts were far too tight in the front while being all too generous in the rear. The crop top shirt floating above it was so obviously meant to be stretched across a gorgeous pair of tits. Traits that I clearly couldn't match without breast and ass forms. Ones that hadn't, and clearly wouldn't be, provided considering these things already got me in the underwear.

Even beyond the physical traits, this was also clearly the outfit for a woman. It was a very obvious and overtly sexual version of the masculine fantasy vampire hunter.

But even that wasn't the worst part, the worst part was the realization that I would wear this. Even knowing the effects, even knowing it would change me and leave me a completely different person. I would put on the outfit, I would wear it. And once I had, I would do so because I wanted to.

The promise on offer was something I just wouldn't be able to refuse once it was upon me.

That didn't stop my mind and body from rebelling at that fact in the instant I came to that realization. I kicked out, then tried to stand up. I twisted against the grips of the costumes holding me. I struggled in an attempt to gain some freedom from the inevitability floating before me.

My resistance lasted only a second.

The maid, schoolgirl, and business suits responded instantly. The maid pulled the panties higher, gripping my balls and cock and causing me to freeze up. The schoolgirl leaned over squeezing her voluptuous chest into my restrained arm. The business suit pressed a firm hand into the left breast of the bra that had been forced upon me. It was an assault upon my senses: sensual, overwhelming, and thoroughly enjoyable even as it was terrible.

I could feel now as the underwear coating my form began to inflate and fill its intended shape. Worse, despite the fact that my own flesh wasn't rising to meet those expanded proportions, I could feel everything as though it had. As though a woman was wrapping around me and taking my place.

I could feel my hips widen, my ass fattening, and the sensation of the panties filling out. My chest was expanding, the cups of the bra becoming filled by a growing bosom.

All of it distinct and separate from my own sensations, but no less intense for their lack of reality. All the while, the thong wrapped around my loins worked to produce what I feared would be the last orgasm I ever had as a man.

My vision was blurry. I could see the cursed outfit drifting closer, but I didn't have the strength or focus to avoid it.

I didn't even realize the costumes had let go of me until I felt the first item of the ensemble sliding up my legs. The denim shorts felt somehow smoother than any I had worn before. Almost as if they were made of the same silk that the maid had only recently used to caress my cock. Further, the touch of the fabric was more delicate, more comforting even, than that of any lover I'd ever had.

A chill ran up my spine as the sensation of the fabric caressing me reached my brain. I could feel the shorts sliding over my knees, and the smooth cloth rubbing against my thighs.

Even though I knew I should have been trying to struggle, I couldn't find the will. All of it was too much. It felt amazing. I wasn't just the physical, but something more, emasculating certainly, but empowering in a way as well. I knew, somehow, that giving in to this would be something I could never take back. Was that so wrong though? I knew the moment I saw the outfit currently trying to steal my body that it would give me everything I wanted out of this night. More than that, the phantom flesh, the seductive curves that surrounded me felt powerful.

Sexy.

Intoxicating.

The clothes were now caressing me. The sensation was a thousand times better than anything I had ever felt with a lover, and a million times better than the hand job I had just received.

I felt the shorts slide into place, and then the clasp snap shut. Just as the thong and bra before them, once the shorts were in place they groped my phantom flesh.

That thought hit me like a truck. They groped my phantom flesh.

continued: