This story was written by myself, Duhad as a commission for  MisfortunateCostumes

This sorry unlike most of the others I have written on this sight is both more or less SFW and has NO transformations in it, just living clothes and a bit of willing, wholesome cross dressing.

If you would like a story like this written for you, my prices are reasonable and I work fast.

Now without further preamble, I give you... Fashion With a Passion!

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The door to the Marquise’s Boutique swung open to the sound of jingling bells, a ringing that melded not unpleasantly with the soft music playing over the aging wood encased speakers. It was an old, quaint sound, one at odds with the clean and sterile electric chime any of the other stores along 4th street would have greeted a new customer. Yet it was a sound that seemed to perfectly fit the old clothing boutique, which at one time had been one of the most prestigious in the whole town, yet now stood as a relic of an age long since past.
For Roxy, stepping through the doorway, out from the hustle and bustle of modernity and into the warm golden light which streamed in through the windows, it was like stepping into another world. One were time had frozen in some peaceful moment and their remained trapped like some transitory dream somehow fixed in place. As she stepped further inside and held out her hand, watching the way the light danced along her black and white striped fur she could not help, but beam at the magic of the place.
“Frostbyte, how have you never taken me here before?” Roxy turned to look at her boyfriend who seemed utterly unimpressed as he shrugged his shoulders. “This place is gorgeous and just look at the selection!” She turned to take in the dazzling array of dresses, jackets, blouses and skirts in every cut and color one could hope to find for a formal occasion.
The tall blue shark once again shrugged his shoulders, feeling an uncomfortable tickle forming at the back of his throat. Frostbyte disliked being out of the water for any length of time, it played hell with his nose and made his voice horse and a bit painful. On any normal day he would be at least a little uncomfortable strolling around town, but today was particularly unpleasant since today he knew he would be meeting with-
“Frostbyte!” A reedy woman's voice drifted over the scratchy piano music and a moment later a graying mouse hurried into view, adjusting her thick spectacles with one hand and waving energetically with the other. “Good heavens, it is you dear! Why didn’t you call ahead, I would have set a kettle on!”
“Hello Mrs. Cavendish.” Frostbyte lifted his own hand quickly, though could only bring himself to force a half smile across his yellow snout. “Sorry, this was sort of a last second change of plans.” He lowered his hand, bringing it to rest on Roxy’s shoulder. “My girlfriend is attending a family event and there was an accident with her best dress a little while ago which we could not afford to have fixed up so…” He winced as Mrs. Cavendish’s smiled broadened. “I thought I might ask you if we could rent something on the cheap.”
“Don’t be silly dear!” Mrs. Cavendish scampered around her counter, raising a finger in the air as she continued, “I wouldn't dream of making you ‘rent’ a dress from me for such a lovely young lady in need! You can BORROW whatever you need, so long as its returned in the same condition it leaves the boutique!”
Roxy gasped as the old mouse patted her on the upper arm. “That’s incredibly generous of you, but we couldn’t take advantage of you like that!”
Mrs. Cavendish waved her free hand dismissively as she gave Roxy a few quick pats. “Don’t speak such nonsense! Your not taking advantage of anyone, I have more dresses than I know what to do with. I hardly think I’ll miss just one for a couple of days.”
Roxy could not help, but grin as she looked to her boyfriend for confirmation. “Is this alright? You two are that close?”
Frostbyte once again tried for a smile, but only managed to get about halfway there before it ended up somewhere in the vicinity of a grimace. “Yeah Roxy, Mrs. Cavendish is an old friend.” He nodded, then covered his mouth as he coughed. “Excuse me, sorry… Dry air.”
Mrs. Cavendish’s eyes flashed as she locked eyes with the shark and allowed her smile to grow just a little wider. “Oh deary me, why don’t you come with me to the back room, I have some tea that should help with your throat. I know how irritable it can make you.” She patted Roxy one more time before shifting position to latch herself to Frostbyte’s arm. “Roxy was it? Would you be a darling and get started with finding a few things you like while I help Frostbyte with his throat? I’ll only be a few minutes, then I’ll help you pick out something that will go stunningly with those gorgeous black and white stripes!”
“Oh! Oh, uh alright then.” Roxy said, taken aback by the swiftness with which the old mouse dragged away her boyfriend. “I’m in no rush, so that’s fine I guess!”
“Thank you darling, you're a tremendous sweetheart!” Mrs. Cavendish called back over her shoulder as she and Frostbyte raced back around the counter and off into the private backroom were the aging proprietor kept her sowing equipment along with a number of articles of clothing which had for one reason or another come to require maintenance. There, surrounded by box lined shelves and filing cabinets stuffed with a century's worth of receipts and copies of order forms, Frostbyte was made to sit while Mrs. Cavendish flitted about the room, collecting various pieces of clothing from an assortment of silk lined cases, each one lifted and carried with the sort of tender care a mother might reserve for her baby. These she set besides the shark one after another in a pair of columns, making sure not to let them overlap by more than a few inches. Finally laying out the last silk scarf she sighed and satisfied with her work stepped back and fixed Frostbyte with a reproachful stare.
“You haven’t come by in quite some time.” Her voice was stern, but not reproachful. “They haven’t been out in over two months.”
“I thought Richard was going to be in the area.” Frostbyte muttered, having trouble keeping the old woman’s stare, but unable to look away. “I know he’s getting on a bit, but I thought he could still walk on over every month.”
“Richard is getting too old to play. He can walk around a little, but it’s hardly the same, especially for the younger ones.” Mrs. Cavendish chides.
Frostbyte felt the tickle in his throat return and coughs again, this time without having to fake it. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not me you have to apologize too.” Mrs. Cavendish wagged her finger and then turned to head back out into the main room. “I’ll go help Roxy while you change.” She paused at the door and glanced back one last time. “Start with the sporty look, they have been sorely lacking for proper attention.”
Frostbyte blushed, but as soon as the old woman had gone from the room, closing and locking the door behind her he began dutifully stripping down fully, dropping his clothes in a loose pile on the floor. As he disrobed, a fluttering of fabric began to move through the carefully laid out clothing and one by one the articles started to slide across the long bench towards the increasingly nude shark man. Noticing this, Frostbyte smiled a little despite himself and reached down to run a hand through the silky clothes.
“Did ya miss me?” He asked, pulling off his underwear and dropping it to the floor. In response a lacy pair of panties suddenly flew from the bench and blew toward him with a whistling sound that almost could be mistaken for birdsong. Frostbyte caught it in mid air and stretched it out a little with a slight blush. “Eager, aren't we? I guess you all really haven’t had anyone to play with in awhile.” He lowered the silky undergarments, then with a slight feeling of discomfort which never seemed to go away no matter how many times he had done this, pulled them up his legs and snugly under his tail. He took a moment to adjust to the slight wriggling, thankful for the self-discipline he had learned from years of this exercise before moving on to the rest of the ensemble.
The bra came next, wrapping itself around him almost before he had lifted it to his chest and fastening itself in a way he was sure Roxy would have appreciated in her own wardrobe. After that the leggings, who as always required a little work to coax into untangling before they slithered over his feet and up his legs, replacing the comfort of their tight embrace with the far more richly fulfilling feeling of being tugged tightly up to his calves. The skirt, if anything, was almost TOO eager, hugging tightly to his legs repeatedly as he tried to pull it up to his waist, so happy it was to once again be worn by someone capable of moving the way it wanted to.
At last, he reached for the blouse, but as he was about to grab hold of it, it slipped from his fingers and slid aways up the bench. Surprised, he reached out again, but this time he barely managed to get near it before it slipped off the bench and fluttered dramatically to the floor.
Frostbyte sighed and followed the blouse to floor level, being careful not to let the skirt’s hem touch the ground, something it had made painfully clear in the past it didn’t like by half strangling him when he had tripped and fallen a few years back. Their, balanced on his stocking clad knees and holding a skirt daintily in both hands he looked down at the blouse and said in as sweet a tone as he could manage, “Are you mad at me?”
The blouse fluttered and sighed melodramatically, air pockets forming beneath it and causing it to shutter and shake. Frostbyte frowned, “Is it because I was gone too long?” The blouse hesitated, then noncommittally shifted from side to side. “Will it make you feel better if I promise to come back in a couple weeks?” He shifted his weight to allow the skirt to fall on his lap while he reached out with his free hand for the blouse. “Come on, don’t make me beg. You don’t want to see a grown shark in a bra begging do you?” The blouse hesitated a moment longer than shot out to wrap itself tightly around his chest, clinging tightly as he slowly stood up. “Okay, okay I’m sorry too. I promise, I won’t leave you alone this long again.”
Frostbyte allowed the blouse time to work out its feelings before finally getting it over his head, finishing his outfit. He glanced to a nearby fitting mirror and allowed himself a rueful snort. “I’m ready for a day out at the country club, assuming daddy hasn’t arranged riding lessons for the afternoon.” He curtsied, lifting the skirt slightly. “What do you all think? Would I not be the prettiest girl out on the tennis court?” He chuckled as all across his body the clothes squeezed and wriggled supportively. “Oh your all just saying that to be nice.” He laughed as they once again squeezed and wriggled, all in on supporting his fictitious desire for feminine grace. “Alright you flirts, I have a girlfriend waiting on me in the other room, so let’s let the others have a turn, okay?”
Getting the clothes back off ended up being a somewhat trickier process then getting them on, so touch starved were they that the panties very nearly caused him to strain a very sensitive extremity before finally being convinced to let him go. The sheer desperation they displayed could not help, but make Frostbite feel just a little worse about having left them waiting so very long. Still, he had other obligations that day and if he allowed the sporty outfit to monopolize all his time, he likely would never get off any of the other clothes when he next visited.
As he laid the panties down on the bench with a gentle pat, he noticed that an elegant black evening gown had slithered its way to him and their begun plaintively curling and uncurling its shoulder straps as if struggling with the intense desire to be worn fighting with a sense of propriety which forbade it from being to strident with its needs. Taking pity on the overly proper garment, Frostbyte extended his hand palm up to it and putting on his best gentlemanly voice asked, “Would the lady care to dance?”
The gown sprung from the bench and wrapped itself around the sharks arm as tightly as a drowning man to a piece of driftwood, clearly unwilling to let self respect rob it of this opportunity now that it had been presented. Frostbyte chuckled as he glanced back to the bench. “Anyone else care to join us on the dance floor?”
It did not take long for a matching set of black and lacy bra and panties to wriggle up to him and he had barely managed to slip into them before a set of elegant evening gloves and silk stockings worked up the courage to throw themselves into the mix as well. The stockings were
an easy enough fit, as though carefully tailored they still had enough give to fit his thicker legs, however the gloves proved a bit more difficult. Frostbyte could slip his hands into their openings easily enough, though by the time his forearms came into the equation their really was no way of overcoming the size difference without either man or clothes being irreparably damaged. Worse yet, his fingers could not do much more than wriggle their way palms before any further forward momentum became impossible.
“I… Don’t think this is going to work…” Frostbyte admitted after a few fruitless minutes of trial and error during which he had only managed to get the gloves to awkwardly wave about with the tips of his fingers. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think this look will come together like this.” He turned his attention to the mirror and sighed at the ridiculous sight of a grown man dressed to the nines in womens formal attire, save for a pair of floppy gloves waving about on the ends of his arms.
The gloves went limb, sighing in disappointment, but unwilling to deny their fellows a good time just to try and fail to be a part of the festivities. Feeling shameful for his own part in the somber dip in the rooms mood Frostbyte began to apologize, “I hope you don’t mind, but I really just don’t think it will…” His words trailed off and he began to smile as he suddenly began pulling off the gloves. “Hold on, I know what we can do!” He glanced back to the bench. “Would a few of you like to help me with something a little unorthodox?”
The clothes seemed a touch apprehensive at first, but having faith in Frostbyte and sensing the almost palpable melancholy of the gloves, they quickly rallied and offer themselves up to assist. Wasting little time, Frostbyte took a few stockings and a pair of waistcoats and with a bit of ingenuity and assistance from the clothes, fitted them inside of the gloves so that they would resemble, at least reasonably, a pair of disembodied forearms and hands. These he took daintily, being careful not to dislodge the volunteers as he led his partners out to the middle room.
“I believe this next dance is ours.” He smiled and curtsied. “Would my lady care to waltz with me?” The gloves where practically shaking with excitement and Frostbyte was not entirely sure if the squeeze they gave him was one of acquiescence or merely joy, but he supposed it really made very little difference. “You’re too kind.”
The music from the main room was muted and faint, but it was enough for Frostbyte to follow as he stepped out and began swaying to and fro, gown twirling about his stocking clad legs as he pirouetted in time to the melody. The gloves clung tightly to him, though after awhile he allowed them to be pulled around his shoulders so he could help to keep the stuffing in with his own free hands. Thus embraced he moved from one side of the room to the other as all about him the air was filled with the sweet sounds of humming clothing.
Eventually though time and its accompanying pressures reentered his mind as his eyes happened to catch sight of the clock on the wall. He sighed and with one last twist brought the dance to an end back at the bench. “Sorry dears, seems we're almost out of time.” He cast his gaze over the remaining articles of clothing, but was heartened to see that they all seemed to have been as enchanted by the dance as those who had participated in it. “Well good to know your not jealous then.”
He laid out the gloves and helped the brave clothes who had assisted them back out, reunited stockings with their matching partners and smoothing out the wrinkles the waistcoats had suffered from their time in the tight confides. “I’ll make sure Mrs. Cavendish knows how helpful you all were.” He smiled and patted all his volunteers. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”
As he turned his attention to removing the rest of his ensemble he spoke aloud to the remainder of the unworn clothes. “Roxy has got to be close to finishing by now and I really shouldn’t leave her waiting, so I’ll do one more, but then I really have to go. Who hasn’t had a chance to play in the longest time? Let’s give them a chance, right?”
There was a hush as the living clothes turned their attention inward, obviously trying to figure out who had gone the longest without proper attention. Eventually though a clear winner is
determined and three bright red articles pushed their way to the front just as Frostbyte finished shimmying out of the panties he had been wearing.
Noticing this, he smiled and called out, “Oh good, well that was… Easy…” His good humor however quickly fades as he catches sight of who had been selected. “Oh, oh no you have got to be kidding me, right?” He glanced from the red frilly garments to the rest of the clothes and asked, voice growing just a little panicked. “I mean are you sure it’s them? Their isn’t like a… Tuxedo that’s been gathering dust in the corner or something I could show a good time?” The clothes didn’t respond, save to back away slightly, giving their elected trio space so that no mistake could be made as to whom they believed he should modeled last.
Knowing that their would be no getting out of his promise, Frostbyte sighed and reached out to the last set of clothes, allowing them to scoot their way across the bench and cling tightly to his arm. “Alright, but this isn’t going to be pretty…”
The red satin panties came first, slipping up Frostbyte’s legs and tucking him neatly into place with a tenderness he appreciated after having his most sensitive parts squeezed and crushed by so many garments which had clearly not been designed for male comfort. The satin bra came next and though it was a bit of a snugger fit, especially since it had clearly been designed to help push up and emphasize something Frostbyte didn’t have to begin with. Still both were comparatively easy and dignified compared to the pièce de résistance, a form-fitting teddy nightgown design to be so sheer and exposing that it somehow managed to make him look more naked then he had been before putting it on!
The naughty nightwear had undoubtedly been left to collect dust as neither Mrs. Cavendish nor Richard would have any desire to put them on, nor the flexibility to truly play along with their desires. Unfortunately for Frostbyte, while laying luxuriantly on the hard floor and faux casually running a pair of fingers along his hips and up his chest was far outside of his realm of comfort, it was something he could not bring himself to deny the living garments, especially after they began to vibrate with excitement as he began his ridiculous pantomime. He had never been good at telling people no and the clothes childlike glee at being worn for what they at least assumed their role was was simply impossible for him to deny.
Steeling himself, Frostbyte met his own gaze in the mirror and mustering up as much sensuality as he could manage purred, “Hello there gorgeous. Care to… Have a little fun?”
“Oh my…” Mrs. Cavendish gasped, her mousey face growing as red as Frostbyte’s lingerie. “I hope I am not interrupting anything private?”
“What!? NO NO NO!” Frostbyte blushed and waved one hand while the other moved to cover his groin. “I was just… Finishing up in here!” He blanched as he heard what he had just said and rapidly corrected to, “I was just helping these last items before I got dressed!”
“Well I was just going to let you know that Roxy is ready to go.” She smiled slyly and added. “Unless you would like me to have her come back here to join you?”
“M-Mrs. Cavendish please!” Frostbyte stammered as he began stripping. “I was just- You have to understand I was- I mean-”
The elderly mouse laughed as she began to slip back out of the room. “Oh Frostbyte, your such a worrier! I know what’s going on and I am grateful for you being so understanding! I’ll meet you in the front once your presentable.”
“Thanks…” Frostbyte muttered, slowly his frantic undressing so as not to risk harming the nighty. “I’ll… See you in a minute then.”
The clothes rustled and trembled as the shark pulled on his normal pants and slipped back into his jacket, clearly worried he might not return for sometime, but Frostbyte made sure to run both hands through them all before he left, whispering, “I’ll come back in a couple weeks. I promise. I’m not going anywhere.”
Back out in the store front Roxy and Mrs. Cavendish where just filling out a bit of paperwork regarding insurance for the borrowed finery when Frostbyte arrived. Roxy glanced up and
grinned at the sight of her boyfriend. “Frostbyte! I can’t wait for you to see what Mrs. Cavendish helped me pick out! Its stunning!”
“I’m sure it is.” Frostbyte smiled half heartedly and shifted, feeling a bit stiff where the ill fitting clothing had pinched and restricted him. “But I’m a little sore… Could we head home before you show me?”
Roxy snorted and gave Mrs. Cavendish a knowing look. “He spends an hour sipping tea in the backroom while we did all the hard work and now he’s the one feeling tired. I swear, I love him, but he can be so ridiculous sometimes.”
Mrs. Cavendish looked to Frostbyte and winked. “Well I am sure he helped rearrange a few boxes while he was back their. He’s such a helpful dear you know?”
“Really?” Roxy cooed and reached over to pat Frostbyte’s arm. “Well if he’s helping, I can always send him by every now and then. I would hate to think of you moving around heavy boxes all by yourself Mrs. Cavendish!” She looked to Frostbyte with wide, loving eyes. “You would be happy to come by to help her once a week, wouldn't you?”
“Once a week?” Frostbyte asked, his throat suddenly going very dry. He met his girlfriend adoring smile and utterly trusting eyes and could not help, but melt a little into her gaze. Y-Yeah, of course! Once a week!”
“That sounds wonderful!” Mrs. Cavendish beamed and clapped her hands. “I’ll make a note on that in the back! And Roxy dear, feel free to come by anytime, I am giving you both a deep family discount for this!”
Roxy gasped and leaned against her boyfriend as he strategically led them from the shop. “What a kind sweet lady!” She nuzzled her head into Frostbyte’s chest. “Do you think she would let me help you sometime? I would love to spend more time getting to know her. It must be so lonely living all alone in that boutique…”
“You have no idea…” Frostbyte muttered. “But… I guess there's no harm in asking. I’m sure they won’t mind having someone else around to help…”
Roxy frowned just a little as they turned and headed off down the street, one question suddenly presenting itself to her as the door closed on the Marquise’s Boutique.
“Who are ‘they’?”

The End