Supermarkets. Nothing more profane, nothing more unspectacular. Overly ambitious people compare prices, get exalted by this week's bargain. Yet, every man who has not lost his manhood will treat the supermarkets as what they are: a pathetic regression from the heroic time of hunting your food. In the early times, only a man who could bring food home would be considered a man. Nowadays, a man who brought home the shopping had just proven he had lost his last claim to masculinity.
Magnus' grandmother had told him otherwise, day in, day out, and with her moribund breath. Through clenched teeth, he had murmured words he had regretted ever since he left her death bed. Accepting an old, dirty, run down supermarket as his inheritance – stupidity knows no boundaries in emotional moments. And today, Magnus was standing in this very place, knee deep in misery. He looked around, and he thought of all the things he would rather do. Climb some rocks. Fuck a woman. Drink a beer with some friends. Watch football. Have a woman suck his cock. Or at least lecherously stare at some girl's tits at Hooters.
He belonged to the huge male part of the population – especially when single – which is affluent and willing to spend. Just not in the supermarket – you go there and you behave like in a public toilet: get in, do your shit, leave. No talking, no watching left or right, a man on his mission. And this is when it hit him with a big hammer: what if? What if a supermarket would be the man's most favorite place? If men would actually want to spend time in the supermarket? A picture started forming in his mind and all of sudden, he felt like something good would come out of this after all: the first man-only supermarket.
***
Six months later, the 'Magnus' opened its doors. The first five days, everything looked like it always does in a supermarket. The dull routine of a bored city, crammed into some square meters of consumerism. However, those customers who did step into Magnus by accident couldn't help noticing that the girls at the cash registers were exquisite creatures. Their smiles were brighter than in normal markets, their eyes awake and friendly. Some old ladies gossiped, too friendly, flirtatious even with the men.
On the sixth day, the blessed Saturday of unlimited shopping time, people roaming into the supermarket felt something was distinctly different. The music was so upbeat, you couldn't help but smile. The girls filling the shelves with new products wore the 'Magnus' uniform, but this day, the skirts were shorter, the cleavages were deeper and the clothes tighter. The girls obviously had some time at their hands, chatting away with the male customers, touching their arms ever so lightly every now and then, laughing at their jokes, flaunting their beauty everywhere they went.
In the following week, the till girls continued to wear the outfits they had worn on the previous Saturday. The entire atmosphere was relaxed, laid back, and generally very forthcoming. At least, if you were a male customer. The old ladies who came to the shop felt treated with an inexplicable indifference. While any kind of man would be engaged in lighthearted small talk, any lady was served with sentences as short as possible. Those grandmas who returned from Magnus would grunt about their dissatisfaction at their tea parties: "Have you seen that blonde till girl with the tan? Has she no shame? Showing off her cleavage like this?" "Have you seen the one with the long black hair? Isabelle, according to her name sign. She wouldn't stop stroking the hands of her male customers when they paid. Has she no manners?" "Have you seen the redhead with all these freckles? She had her cute nose very high up in the air, didn't she? Not a word to me. And then a man skips the queue and what does she do? Starts flirting!"
***
On the second Saturday after the opening, things changed again slightly. Those who came more regularly noticed that the girls now wore 10cm high heels instead of flat ballet shoes. Their skirts had lost a few more centimeters and were now barely covering their young, firm asses. The girls seemed to be wearing white stockings, too, but no one was quite sure. The tops hugged their figures very tightly and now showed the fit, flat tummies of the astounding beauties of the 'Magnus'. Whenever a man would come to the till to pay, the girls would lean forward, push their proud boobs together between their arms and would collect the cash.
At the exit, there were two hostesses waiting for every male client. The women just left the shop and were never addressed. But whenever a man approached the doors, one of the hostesses would stop him with a fleeting touch and offer a little card to collect an aggregate rebate. Many men had troubles breathing when the girls spoke to them. Their subtle perfume, their slender bodies, it was overwhelming. Before the men were let go to the streets, the hostesses whispered into their ears: "Come back this week, we are waiting for you. All men get a 50% rebate on all products. We want you."
In the third week, the customer structure started to visibly change. Through the show windows, you could see how mostly men were interacting intensely with some of the most beautiful women of the town. Many of the old ladies started staying away. "Filthy", they said. "An outrage that I cannot get a rebate, just because", they mumbled scandalized. Other women just didn't feel comfortable going in. Some felt ugly compared to the till girls. Their short skirts and tops left little to the imagination. Others felt unsafe in an environment of constant flirting. In any case, by the third Saturday of the month, barely any woman set foot in the 'Magnus' supermarket. On the other hand, men started coming more regularly.
***
On the third Saturday, word of mouth had spread among the men of the community. Some came just to do their weekly shopping in a friendly environment. Some came because Magnus had really good prices for men. Others came because they had noticed that on Saturday's, 'Magnus' would change the uniform of the girls. It was like a preview for the next week. All men came, though, because they admired the perfection and the smiles of the till girls.
The customers were not disappointed. This Saturday, the girls wore high heels, waving their hips through the corridors whenever they went past. They also wore stockings, there was no doubt. The white stockings perfectly matched the lace panties they were parading around the supermarket. Their youthful, full boobs filled playful and sexy bras – and this was all that made a uniform at 'Magnus'. Many men forgot what they had intended to buy and stood in admiration for long, before finally deciding to continue with their shopping. And all of them bought products. More than they needed.
***
The fourth week was the last week that 'Magnus' ever showed the inside of the shop through its shop windows. On the following Saturday, the windows were covered with a white color. 'Magnus – where shopping is a man's world' was written in big blue letters across the entire window front. In some places, there were small squares left free, so that you could peak through the glass into the shop. Whoever looked into the shop saw many men with little functioning brain being enticed by several stunning young ladies.
