Dress Off 2: Erica vs Kimberly (Part 2)

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Kimberly Reed silently raged against her own stupidity as the voice in her earpiece finished breaking the news of Erica’s first success. She’d probably walked past the book fifteen times already, as she completed circuit after circuit of the floor, futilely waiting for some inspiration to strike. And now that damn bitch was back on level terms with her. As the buttons quietly dropped from Kimberly’s blouse, her blue brassiere and sumptuous cleavage hovered into view for the benefit of anyone not totally engrossed in what they were reading. Kimberly clenched her teeth together, flared her nostrils, and looked up at a security camera that hung passively from the ceiling. Oh don’t worry, thought Kimberly, you’ll be getting a show today alright, but today’s matinee starring role of `humiliated, naked woman number one` will now be played in perpetuity by my understudy! Kimberly marched on, eyes focused front and center, pointedly ignoring a group of teenager boys who had momentarily stopped their incessant texting to take advantage of an unexpected photo opportunity. ********** Not fair, not fair, not fair! The thoughts bounced around in Erica’s head on auto-replay as she began to feel a strange sensation around her legs. She knew that this would be the onset of yet another clothing malfunction, and her vivid imagination was already conjuring up the worst. She was back on the escalators again, heading up to the second floor, following the same hunch as before that it was unlikely for two clues to be close together. In truth though, she had no idea what her next clue was getting at, and she was well and truly throwing herself at the mercy of random good luck. And good luck had been in short supply of late. Several things were competing for Erica’s attention right now, and the clue itself had been rudely jostled into fourth place. Firstly, the inherent unfairness of it all! Secondly, at least the black-haired witch would need to slow down or risk exposure, not that exposing herself was something altogether alien to that brazen hussy! Thirdly, what the hell was up with the strange sensation in her stockings?! The escalator delivered her to the second floor and Erica, cheeks red from all the attention she’d been receiving from a couple of men who had taken the ride up with her, stepped off and went to make her way to the History section. As she took her first step forward though, she felt a strange albeit slight resistance that made bending her knee just a bit more effort than was natural. Mumbling an unheard apology to the two smiling men she was now blocking from getting off the escalator, Erica shuffled to the side and began to experimentally bend her knees. Erica quickly realised her latest predicament. As long as she kept her legs relatively straight, the stockings didn’t put up much of a fight. That was fine, although mildly disconcerting, while in a normal walking gait. However the moment she tried to bend them further, into for example a normal running gait, the stocking material became completely inflexible as if by magic, and she was forced to straighten her leg again. She was constrained to walking pace now, and that wasn’t even the worst of it. As Erica raised her leg up and down, she looked on in shock as her previously reliable skirt suddenly seemed to develop a dozen full length slits all around her. The slits ran all the way from the belt to (and through) the hem-line, and so had the undesirable effect of turning her skirt into thirteen completely independent strips that felt no compulsion to work together to protect her modesty. Reduced to a walking pace, and with no overlaps between the strips of her skirt, Erica now risked the teasing exposure of her sexy green panties with every agonising step around the library. Permitting herself a moment to stomp her feet at the world, Erica then tried to suck up all the emotions running rampant inside her mind. She gave her dress a final flinty look as if to dare it to do anything else even remotely naughty, and set off once again into the thronging afternoon mass of library-goers. ********** Agent Stacey Shackleton stood by the periodicals shelves of the Politics section, idly flicking through this month’s Foreign istanbul travesti Policy. She wasn’t bothering to keep a direct eye on Erica or Kimberly, as she knew Mitchelson would have that under control through whatever voodoo magic he’d used to take over the Library’s surveillance cameras. She had noted with amusement that a security guard had wandered over a few minutes back to make a few pointless prods and pokes at a mysteriously unresponsive camera nearby. She imagined that somewhere in the bowels of the Library, there were a couple of underpaid employees staring at blank computer screens and wondering just what was up with the IT gremlins today. It would be a while before anyone would actually summon the enthusiasm or talent to do anything constructive about it, and by then this little game would have played itself out to it’s conclusion. No, it was sufficient that she was ‘around’, as a glorified one-woman rapid-response unit, and if Mitchelson needed her to intercede in person, then he knew how to reach her. She was settling back into an interesting article on the Syrian civil war, when she felt the change in the air. In fact, she felt Kimberly Reed’s presence before she actually saw her. Or perhaps more accurately, she felt the head of every man in a two aisle radius of her swivel as if on a psychically-linked turntable. Her heavy disguise didn’t exactly hide the fact that Stacey was herself one of life’s natural beauties, but she was fairly certain she hadn’t personally done anything out of the ordinary in the past few seconds to merit that response. Interest piqued, she glanced in the general direction the men were now staring in, and saw the steadily moving figure of Kimberly Reed half-jog, half-bounce across the floor not twenty meters away. With her blouse billowing out like a parachute trying to pull her back, Stacey and her fellow audience members were left in no doubt as to the colour and general style of Kimberly’s bra, even from this distance As several men dropped what they’d been reading, Stacey wore a strange expression of amusement tinged with more than a hint of self-recognition. ******** If Erica had thought that not being able to run or the constant green flashes that appeared between her skirt slits were bad enough, she hadn’t reckoned with the bottom shelves of the Classics section. It had been a very long two minute walk from the Art History section, where she’d been when she finally realised that the next clue would be somewhere around the Roman Mythology books. It felt like half the city had been appraised as to the fact that Erica Matthews was indeed wearing matching undergarments today. She knew the consequence of trying to hold the skirt together would be even worse than the constant embarrassment of the material strips wandering about mischievously, so she’d had to clench her fists by her side and live with the rising attention that befitted her current state. But now that she’d arrived at the long line of books on Roman Mythology, she realised with a sinking feeling of resignation that the book she was looking for was destined to be on the bottom-most shelf. Unable to bend her knees, there would be no way for her to kneel down or squat, and that only left one unpalatable alternative. Argh! Erica’s fists went from merely-clenched to red-balls-of-fury, as she finally gave in to the inevitable and bent her body at the waist. If it was any consolation that years of Pilates had made Erica very flexible, it didn’t show in her expression as she began to scan the books at the bottom. The gasps of astonishment behind her told Erica everything she needed to know about the current state of her skirt. With Erica fully bent over, the back strips of her badly behaving skirt parted like the Red Sea, and the material instead slid over hips and settled by her side. Her resplendent green panties shone like a beacon leading men to the promised land, and Erica had a hard time concentrating on reading the titles of the book spines as the whirring of cellphone cameras filled up the background noise. The shelf was a long one and she had to edge along for several meters looking for the book in question. With every title she passed over, the desire istanbul travestileri to stand up straight became stronger and stronger in her. Surely the book she was looking for must be around here somewhere. As she began to hear the barely-whispered conversations of those with front row seats to her performance, the words they were using to describe what they were seeing made her ears burn. As the descriptions soon flowed on into suggestions, Erica finally let out a small shriek and turned to face her admirers. “How dare you!” she said, indignantly, trying to ignore the fact that she was the one flashing her ass at everyone. The men only smiled more though, and Erica turned back in a huff to valiantly try and resume her searching. She was only a dozen or so books from the end of the long shelf now and suddenly – out of the corner of her eye – she spied the simple grey spine of a small, partly obscured book resting on the next shelf along. The book had the equally simple title: DE. With a small cry of exhilaration, Erica started to move towards it and was mere centimeters away when her outstretched arm was rudely knocked aside. Unable to bend properly at the knees, Erica struggled to regain her balance. By the time she had, she looked up in despair to find her rightful place taken by a certain raven-haired harlot. As Kimberly Reed theatrically kneeled down, she grabbed the simple book and yanked it off the shelf. “You know, green really does suit you, Erica.” Kimberly said, as she took in Erica’s current state of dress. “Give that back!” Erica cried, reaching out for the book that Kimberly tantalisingly held out in front of her. “Ahh, no, no, I really don’t think so, girlfriend. Tell you what though, I think you’ll be getting the clue soon enough anyway, so don’t stress about it too much!” Kimberly winked at Erica knowingly, and skipped past her, heading back up the aisle they’d both just come down. As she danced past the stricken Erica, Kimberly took the opportunity to playfully spank Erica on the ass with the book. As Erica tried to turn around, and send Kimberly on her own way with a swift kick to her retreating backside, the resistance of her stockings caused her once again to lose balance and Erica unceremoniously toppled over on to the library floor. “Now now, Miss Matthews, no lying down on the job, there will plenty of time to rest and reflect on the day’s events later on.” The earpiece’s mock serious tone infuriated Erica, but she had just enough control over herself to know that screaming at someone who had complete control over her clothing wasn’t going to help right now. “You saw that, you saw the cheating bitch steal that book from me!” Erica said plaintively. “Well, `stealing’ is a serious allegation, and our match review committee will impartially look into the matter to see if Miss Reed’s actions merit suspension from any future matches.” “How the hell’s that supposed to help me now?” “Sadly it does not, but thankfully help is on hand in another guise. For I have another clue for you, Miss Matthews, and if you’d be so kind as to pick yourself up, both literally and metaphorically, then perhaps you might see about evening the score yourself.” Erica grimaced again, and started to struggle to her feet. Naturally none of her fellow citizens bothered to even raise a hand to help, as she cut a comical figure getting to her feet while not bending her knees. Her skirt was now all over the show, with everyone getting the full effect of her green underwear as she splayed her legs out and edged her way into a upright position. Finally grabbing a nearby shelf, she hauled herself to her feet, and quietly seethed at the men who had let her do all that completely unassisted. They then had the temerity to break out into applause, making Erica’s mood even worse than it already was. As she gathered herself for one more race, her hands subconsciously moved to smooth the skirt out into some semblance of normality. But it was with innate intuition that her heart was already sinking even before her hands encountered warm skin rather than the material of the skirt. Erica didn’t even bother to look down to acknowledge the fact that the remnants of her travesti istanbul skirt had been left on the floor where she’d laid. The sole vestige of her skirt that she had retained was the belt around her waist, and the thin sliver of material that had been attached to the belt underneath. That helped cover up precisely nothing at all. Instead, Erica simply inhaled, exhaled, and inhaled again. She stuck her chin out, made sure her panties were at least in order and properly presented, and firmly decided that this, this experience right here, this feeling right now, was absolute rock-bottom. This was the line in the sand, the final victory that Kimberly Reed would ever experience. Almost liberated by the loss of her skirt, Erica felt like a hidden reservoir of resolve had suddenly erupted inside of her. No more. This was as bad as it was going to get for her, but things were about to get so much worse for Miss Kimberly Slut-Bitch-Whore Reed. And so it was, still flushed by steely determination, that Erica greeted the sudden vibrations that kickstarted in the front of her underwear with an almost manic, out-of-control laugh. Pressed up against her skin, Erica realised almost instantly that she had scant minutes to go before the stimulation from the built-in and hitherto secret vibrator became too much to withstand… ********** In took Kimberly only a few minutes to make her way back to the fifth floor, and begin searching for what she was confident would be the winning clue. Judging by the state of Erica’s dress just now, the idiot must have fallen foul of a penalty, and she was savouring the thought of just how embarrassed Erica must be right now. Kimberly was almost tempted to try and drag this game out a little longer, but she regretfully realised that there was no point taking stupid chances. Eyes on the prize Reed, Kimberly reminded herself. She thought back to Decider Enterprises’ promise that victory would be total, and contented herself with knowing that there was a decent chance the two of them would be together when Erica finally suffered complete and utter defeat. And if Kimberly was there, she’d make damn sure there was a heavy emphasis both on the complete and on the utter. With her blue bra and white blouse attracting plenty of attention, she even afforded those around her a pleasant and friendly smile as she surged on. ********** One floor down, Erica Matthews darted as quickly as she could from aisle to aisle, straining to resist the urges she felt beginning to build up inside of her. At least five minutes had already passed, and the vibrator appeared to be on a low but steady setting. Erica had gloomily surmised that Decider Enterprises were just the sort of people to be able to design tiny, undetectable batteries that would keep on going until the job was done. In a bizarre, the-glass-is-half-full kind of way, the vibrator at least distracted Erica from the fact that her tight, sexy backside was now on permanent display to all around her. The underwear wasn’t doing all that good a job of hiding her front parts either, and it was only the fact that she was too focussed on fighting the constant, ceaseless vibrations, that meant she wasn’t completely paralyzed by the whistles of amazement that tracked her movements to anyone with decent hearing. Fourth floor. The science sections were here, and Erica realised that this was also the site of their first clue. Would the voice have put more than one clue per floor? She supposed they must have done, especially if this was to go down to the wire and Erica was to start finding a few more herself. Still, so far each clue had been on a different level: fourth, first, second. That left third and fifth. Erica had started on the fifth floor, and she came to an admittedly random decision. She’d head to the fifth floor and let the die be cast. There was still the problem of getting up to the fifth floor of course. The ride up to the fourth floor had been excruciatingly long, and it was only due to the fact that the handful of available security guards were too busy trying to fix their security cameras that she hadn’t already been intercepted. Clad essentially in only her undergarments and stockings, and with an inappropriately done up blouse that seemed to only accentuate the sheer exhibitionism on show, Erica was every heterosexual male’s daydream come true. The stylish silver bracelets on her wrists glistened as she happened to pass by a window to the outside world.

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