The canine watched over her shoulder as the pair of felines shopped around the department store.

It was a mother white tiger and her son, looking at band shirts from the boyswear department, while Franke pretended to browse girls' clothing from across the isle. "They don't even have good taste in music," she mumbled to herself, shaking her head at the boy band merchandise the boy was trying to convince his mom to buy. She overheard bits and pieces of the conversation, and debated when - or if - there would be a good time to make her move.

"Mom, I want this one!"

"It's too small, it won't fit!"

"Yes it will! I want it!"

"Oh, fine, Greyson, take these to try on and I'll go talk to someone about getting a bigger size for you."

Frankie turned around fully and watched as "Greyson" went off to the kids' changing room with an armful of shirts and jeans while his mom headed to the service desk and demanded that the poor suffering golden retriever behind the till ‘check the back’ for a size up of the shirt her son wanted. The canine lady sighed and turned her back to head into the stock room, and Frankie made her move. She gathered up a pink frilly shirt with a girl band on it and pair of thigh-high stockings from the adjacent shelf, and followed the kitten, shrouded in her red hoodie.

The changing rooms were thankfully hidden slightly away from the sales floor, with two unisex family changing rooms at either end of a short T-shaped hallway, with a dishevelled clothing rack in the middle full of returns and other stuff to be put away. She turned left and knocked on the closed door. When the tiger boy opened it, she quickly pushed him back and closed the door again behind her.

"You're not mom!" the tiger yelped.

"No shit, Sherlock," Frankie fired back, locking the door. She had literally caught the boy with his pants down, and he fumbled to grab them, pulling them about halfway up before the canine tugged them back down. "Take those off," she demanded, "and put these on." She threw the pink shirt and stockings at him. He held up his hands to block and the clothes fell to the floor in a heap. Frankie nodded down to the pile. "Put them on,” she repeated, “or else."

The dressing room was small and square, designed to be just big enough for a parent and child, with a bench at one end and full-length mirrors on either side. Greyson meekly did as he was asked, pulling the boy-band shirt all the way off, and then pulling down his pants. "Tighty-whiteys too," she insisted, "and socks. All of it." She hopped up on the bench and squatted, her eyes watchful as he revealed his ivory-and-black striped fur and long slinky tail. He was obviously uncomfortable about the whole thing, so Frankie decided to ease the tension a little.

"Here," she offered, "I'll join you." she pulled off her hoodie, and revealed the ratty tank-top underneath. That seemed to get Greyson's attention. "Oh, you like that, hmm?" she teased, running a hand up her flat chest and slowly pulling off her undershirt, revealing the short blonde fur and slightly pink nipples underneath. "Now you take off the rest of your clothes, and I'll take off mine. Fair?"

All of a sudden the tiger couldn't disrobe fast enough. Frankie could see he was almost shaking, probably so nervous he was about to puke. "Never seen a girl naked, have ya? Not even a sister? Not even your mom?"

Greyson shook his head, now totally naked but still trying to cover himself by pushing his knees together and keeping his hands at crotch level.

"Nah that won't do," Frankie shook her head, "Move your hands, lets see what we're working with."

Greyson slowly and shakily moved his hands behind his back, revealing a small, thin member with an exposed bright-red tip. 

"Looks sensitive," Frankie observed, "ever touch it?"

Greyson shook his head. "Mom says I'm not supposed t-"

"Mom's not here," Frankie interrupted, "Touch it,"

Greyson was stunned. 

"Touch it," Frankie commanded again, "Just run your fingers up gently and down the shaft a few times. It's not gonna hurt!"

Greyson slowly poked and rubbed his member with both hands, as if it was the first time he'd ever seen it. 

"See? It's not that bad. Now put on those clothes I brought for ya."

"I thought you were s'posed to take yours off!" he challenged.

He was right, Frankie hadn't touched her jeans or her boots yet. "Well, if you put those on, I'll take mine off. Deal?"

Greyson hesitated, almost like he was having trouble pulling his hands away. But eventually he looked at the pink shirt in distaste.

"These are girly clothes!" he protested, “it says ‘Mice Girls’ on it!”

"And you're gonna wear them if you want to see me without my pants on," she grinned. 

Reluctantly. Greyson donned the pink frilly shirt, and looked down at himself in disgust. The logo on the shirt was of an all-girl pop band, something that would certainly get him bullied at school, even without the pink frills. He looked expectantly at Frankie, who nodded down to the stockings on the floor. With a sigh he put them on, leaving them wrinkled at the ankle until Frankie ordered him to pull them all the way up.

"There," She nodded with approval, looking the shy boy up and down as he fumbled and fiddled with his hands, "Just one finishing touch," she decided as she handed him a pink hairclip.

"What do I do with this?" he asked.

"You put it in your hair, dummy,"

"How?"

"Anywhere, it doesn't matter. Just do it."

Greyson furrowed his brow and struggled to pinch it just in front of his left ear.

"Close enough," Frankie sighed, "Now that you're a real girl, I'll show you my private parts."

Greyson fidgeted in place as Franke slowly unzipped her pants. "What are you waiting for?" she teased, "Go on, touch yourself again."

The tiger did as ordered, and against started clumsily fondling and rubbing himself as the canine on the bench seductively disrobed, revealing her grey boys' boxers and then finally her her own lower lips, already slippery with arousal. Greyson was transfixed, almost drooling at the sight.

"You want this, pansy?" Frankie teased, "You're not man enough to have it. But keep touching yourself and I might let you touch me."

"It feels weird!" Greyson protested.

"Its gonna feel like you gotta pee," she told him, "Just keep going!"

"Okay, I'm going! I! I'm gonn- I'm gonna- I! I'm g-! Aah!"

Greyson doubled over and almost collapsed as he started panting and moaning, completely surprised by the powerful feelings that crashed over him like a tidal wave. Frankie couldn't help but noticed that the floor stayed completely dry.

"Ohh, you never forget your first," Frankie cooed, pulling her hands away from her crotch, "Li'l kitten's got a hair trigger, I see, what a shame!" She waited as Greyson recovered slowly, and then leaned in close. "Tell you what," she whispered, "do me one last favour and maybe you'll see me again. Get back on your feet and go see mom, okay?"

Greyson nodded weakly, head still swimming in afterglow as he got to his feet and wobbled out the changeroom door. Frankie quickly pulled her pants up and her hoodie back on and beat a hasty retreat out the nearby mall exit, just in time to hear a shrill, matronly voice scream "What are you wearing?!"