It all started with a Hen Night

10 Shopping

Dressing in the morning, I only had the clothes I arrived in. With earrings back in, nail varnish looking a bit tired and hair tidied up, I looked presentable. People didn't seem to notice my lack of breasts, I'd have to order some new forms.

With my phone in my back pocket, my cash and credit cards in the other back pocket and a shopping list in my head, I headed for the town centre. I hoped it wasn't going to be disappointing. It wasn't if I'd walked a bit further up from the burger bar, the shops got better. A couple of nice dress shops, a designer jewellery shop, all out of my price range.

I found the entrance to the shopping centre, they had all the usual high street stores. First, a phone store, where they sorted me out with a new pay-monthly SIM card. Chemist, for makeup remover, cotton wool balls, female hygiene products and tissues. I might come back later for makeup. I also found some breast enlargement cream, why not, anything was worth a try. In one of the big stores, I first went to the shoe department, bought two pairs of shoes and a handbag. Then to the underwear department, bought three matching padded and underwired bra and pantie sets, extra panties, oh and I picked up two pairs of ankle socks. In a branch of my favourite dress shop, I took a load of clothes into a dressing room, took off my blouse and put on one of my new bras. I stuffed each cup with a pair of rolled-up ankle socks. Off came my jeans, adjusting my tuck I donned a pair of new panties, who needed a gaff? I was already feeling more feminine.

Over my time with Kelly, I'd learned to tuck and could now easily and comfortably keep it tucked for up to eight hours. Whether I tucked or not depended on what I was wearing and how active I was going to be. In a loose skirt or at home, cotton granny pants were sufficient. A close-fitting skirt, I tucked and used panties made of a non-stretch firm construction. If I was going clubbing I'd also tape it, so I could still use the toilet and I'd add a pantie liner.

I started to fill my new handbag with my phone, credit and debit cards.

Now to the serious business of trying on. Looking in the mirror, my breasts looked too big and false under the first dress I tried. Unbuttoning the dress, taking the socks out of the cups then re-stuffing them with just one sock in each, buttoning the dress back up, that looked natural and more in proportion with my build. On one side I hung the garments that fitted and I liked, on the others side those that didn't fit or didn't look good on me. I ruthlessly whittled my choice down. I'd put five outfits in the reject pile and three in the to-buy pile. All the outfits I'd chosen had a high enough neckline to disguise the fact that I didn't have a real cleavage. Looking at myself, I was contemplating this last one, an olive green jumpsuit. I'd said I wouldn't wear trousers again, but looking at all the variations of female trousers, I was having to rethink my prejudice. I stepped out of the dressing room to get the attention of an assistant, one came over immediately. Handing her one of my choices, a blue cotton summer dress with buttons down the front.

I said, "I'd like to buy this, but I want to wear it, can you take off the price and security tags. I'll pay for it along with the other items I've chosen."

"Certainly madam, I'll be right back."

With that I returned to the dressing room and took off the jumpsuit, that was definitely going on my to-buy pile. Just then there was a knock on the door, "your dress madam."

Carefully opening the door, so as not to expose too much, I reached around and took the dress.

"When you are ready, I'll be happy to process your purchases," she said.

On went my new dress and the new wedge heeled summer sandals. I admired myself in the mirror, running my hands over my body and wishing my breasts were real. Never mind, I liked what I saw. Off I went to pay for my purchases, adding a necklace and a bracelet to pile. The assistant carefully packed my new, and my old clothes.

One of the big stores was giving makeup advice and makeovers. I sat for a makeover, avidly taking all her suggestions in. I came away with a selection of moisturiser, makeup, eye shadows and nail varnish. Then there was bubble bath, shower gel and shampoo. By this time I was hungry, tired and in need of the toilet. Checking the store guide, there was a café and toilets on the third floor.

Entering the ladies, there was nobody there, I took the end cubicle. Where was I going to put all my bags? Some I hung on the two hooks on the back of the door and some went on the floor by the door. I lowered my underwear and hovered over the toilet, thinking about finding my own place. I couldn't keep living at the Premium Inn.

Wait, I thought, two hooks on a toilet door? That's not normal. I casually glanced up and back again. Why are there two hooks? Why do they look different? Why does one have an extra screw hole? Another quick glance. That's no screw hole! That looks like, ... no it couldn't be, ... could it? It looks like a small lens, a spy camera lens? Oh shit, did I just display my little secret when I pulled my underwear down or had my dress kept it hidden? What do I do? I wiped and quickly pulled up my underwear, making sure I didn't reveal the little anomaly. I rearrange the bags so that the spy-cam was covered, then sorted my tuck and underwear out. I should report this, but what if they retrieved the photos or video, and they saw something I'd rather they didn't? No, I couldn't just leave it for another woman to be spied on! But what to do? I'll write a message on the door! I didn't have a pen, ... I had an eyebrow pencil, no, ... lipstick, no, ... I know, nail varnish! In big letters, I wrote, 'BEWARE SPY-CAM' with an arrow pointing to the camera.

Collecting my shopping I went to wash my hands. Noting that one of the other cubicles was now occupied, I checked the hooks in the two remaining cubicles. They were just your normal plain inoffensive hooks.

Exiting the ladies, I made my way to the café. I just looked at the food. I was so angry and upset that I'd lost my appetite. I sat in a corner, with a large coffee, quietly fuming.

Why would somebody do that? What did they get out of spying on us in our most private moments? Were they sharing pictures and videos with others? On the internet? I wish I had the courage to go and report it to security. Could I have done more?

What had started as an exciting and enjoyable day, had now been ruined. On leaving, I noticed a couple of police officers and security entering the ladies. Whilst I was happy that my note had obviously had an effect, it was tempered by the thought of what they might see. I know they had to collect and review evidence, but the thought of them seeing women going to the toilet was still upsetting. No woman should feel afraid or intimidated, just for using a public toilet.

Back at the hotel I pulled myself together, hung up my new clothes, sorted out my handbag properly, with makeup, pantie liners and tampons. I also included a purse with emergency cash, my mobile and a spare pair of panties. I wasn't leaving anything to chance. Finally settling down with a local paper I looked for somewhere live. The prices shouldn't have been a surprise.