The store itself was nothing special, most large cities have one if you know where to look. A drabby, disheveled exterior hides a sparse interior that is not much better. The only truly unique attribute of this store is the clientele, and lets also not forget about the merchandise. Walking up and down the isles of the storeroom were almost exclusively women. Why is this strange, you ask? Well this store sells used women's undergarments.

But nothing in this city is ever as it seems, and this store is no exception. On the store floor in rows of open topped boxes that served as the isle separators were piles of laminated articles of undergarments. Hundreds of styles in even more color varieties sat in these boxes. But there was a strange irregularity with the packages, as there was always a small circular hole that exposed just a small smudge of the clothing article to the outside world.

Take, for example, this piece of lace black panties. You can place your left thumb right there and...

"AAH, free me you piece of..."

As you can probably guess from the lead up and the type of writer I am that every article of clothing here used to be a someone and not a something. Thousands of articles of clothing in a varying array of styles and sizes to choose from. There is no mistake, no illusions, here. Each and every customer wandering up and down the isles knows what's going on. Every one of them is here to fulfill a need. Some are looking for comforters, others worshipers, and for the more sadistic customers, a pair that will scream the most during rough intercourse. You can almost see one now, as a woman in her late thirties is left almost quivering as she removes her hand from the package.

How this store gets its stock is an entirely different story. For some it was a bored owner who had already possessed them for some time. Others were tricked or trapped into their current form against their will by the local witch population, who then sold them for profit. And for some they came willingly, trying to fulfill a desire or fetish they thought was worth giving up their humanity over. Regardless of their origin, here they are now. Ready for sale and ready to serve their new owners whomever they might be. Not like they have a choice. So what will it be, are you here to buy or maybe something else?