Thornwood Episode III – In Training

[VanessaEvans]

Part 51

In a couple seconds she reached and rounded the corner. The bustle of activity gradually died as people noticed her. Time slowed. It took all she could muster not to admit embarrassment and run for cover. Instead, drawn by the relative safety of her boss’ air of authority, she caught up to Pierre and fell in line behind him. Deafening silence surrounded them both.

They started near the customer service desk and made their way down the big walkway which ran in a ring around the store. Rachel padded along behind Pierre like a pet. Every step further from her clothes jacked up her anxiety level.

She kept her eyes trained on Pierre’s annoyingly rapid steps and tried not to notice the stares of nearby shoppers. Her jiggling breasts swayed in time with her pace. Pierre did not acknowledge the shoppers either. Nothing would distract from his mission. His silent derision kept anyone from questioning the pair.

They turned and took some stairs up to the less visited second level. Rachel hadn’t given much thought to their destination or where she would prefer to be assigned. She took a small comfort that they were heading toward remote areas of the store.

Just then her skirt wriggled loose again. She caught it before flashing too much and dared to glance around to see if anyone had noticed the close call. That was a mistake. A young man was staring with his mouth hanging open.

Almost every young lady desires on some level to be deemed attractive. It’s no coincidence that cosmetic companies target the teenage female more than any other demographic.

Rachel was not immune to the lure. And for some time her burgeoning beauty had attracted male attention despite her frequent deficiency on the cosmetics front. Neither was she blind to the way boys her age cast lingering glances which grew longer with every passing year. But early on she established a personal proverb; horny boys are poor judges of beauty. They instantly fall in love with any girl who gives them the time of day.

She never put much stock in boys’ attention. To dissuade their frivolous advances she compensated by seeming distant and unapproachable. A timeless art naturally developed by all beautiful teenage girls, it serves one well in some situations but has another unfortunate drawback. Being distant and unapproachable makes it difficult to find friends when moving to a new school. Meeting Ellie on the first day was a rare and cherished exception.

The look she attracted today did not compare. It wasn’t so much that this man was looking at her but rather where he was focusing. His eyes never reached hers but instead locked firmly on her breasts. Too late, Rachel snapped her focus back on Pierre’s footsteps but couldn’t suppress the furious blush rising on her chest. It blended with blue ink turning her a nice shade of purple.

They moved out of range of the shopper but the blush lingered. Her body used the occasion to build up an all-over tingling sensation. She had just experienced a taste of the types of looks she was doomed to receive over and over all afternoon. Right then and there Rachel made up her mind.

**I can’t go through with this. We have to go back.

Just when she started to say something to that effect, Pierre veered off the main path. They had arrived and were standing in an unfamiliar, but inviting department. Tucked back in the corner and decorated warmly with rich colors, it could almost be described as cozy. She particularly noted the complete absence of people here and held her tongue.

Spinning in place Pierre pointed out Rachel’s domain of responsibility; a space about the size of a basketball court crowded with clothing racks and shelves and running diagonal to the back wall of the store. Another wall stood at one end with housewares at the other. The tile turned to carpet at the boundaries making it easy to tell where executive menswear ended. The place was deserted of shoppers. No employees even. And Rachel was fine with that.

“Your job is simple. Patrol the area. Assist shoppers as needed and clean up misplaced merchandise.” Since she wasn’t trained on checkout procedure, Pierre told Rachel to send people to the closest manned checkout station in housewares.

Then he took her to the walled off triangle in the back corner. “These are the executive dressing rooms. It is imperative you keep it clean and its occupants happy. Be friendly and helpful and you’ll do fine. Good luck.” And then he was gone.

Preservation instinct kicked in immediately and told her to stop standing out in the open. She retreated to a spot relatively concealed behind two large clothing racks then inspected the condition of the ink. Pierre’s swift pace through the store had at least aided the drying process. The spray job had held up pretty well over all and it was a perverse relief to be as blue as ever.

**Now if my body would only cooperate, I might get through this.

She recognized the tingling sensation as a precursor to full blown arousal. Her nipples sensed it as well and were standing at semi-attention just in case. She hated to do it, but knew it would calm her nerves, so Rachel reached under her skirt and began a mini-bate. She had developed the talent in this very store last week as an alternative to full blown orgasm. The process was degrading but neat and effective. Most importantly, she could do it without making a sound.

**Keep it short. Ooh, that’s nice…maybe a few more seconds…

When she had finished, she started with a clear head to assess the area surrounding her little hiding space. She dismissed Pierre’s instructions as she was in no condition to ‘assist shoppers as needed’. Her new goal was to survive the afternoon with as little human interaction as possible. She made a pretty good run at it, too. But fate did not let her off that easy. Boredom crept in and drove her to make a humiliating error. And by the end of the day she had lost more than just her dignity


Part 52

Keeping a lookout for shoppers, Rachel soon started exploring. She found her department’s borders by looking at the flooring. Executive menswear was completely tiled while housewares had fake wood colored laminate. The main walkway with its ugly high traffic carpeting encircled the rest. The tile was so cold on her bare feet she almost shivered out of her skirt at one point.

**I have to be more careful with my skirt. It’s the only piece of clothing I have left. That and my…wait a minute, why am I barefoot?

“My shoes!” That’s what her subconscious had tried to remind her to grab.

**I forgot my shoes at that office.

As much as she missed her shoes, the prospect of walking back through the store to retrieve them didn’t appeal to her. Better to stay here where it was relatively safe and remote. She would have to make do barefoot and topless.

Rachel got familiar enough with the floor plan until she could navigate around unseen. The occasional shopper wandered in and browsed, but left soon after. One picked out a few items then hung around. He too left when no one appeared to help him.

With such light traffic Rachel could happily have run out the rest of her time hiding like this.

**As long I can figure out a way to keep the place clean, Pierre will never know the difference.

So staying in the shadows, Rachel followed shoppers around straightening stacks of merchandise. Because her lack of adequate clothing added an incentive to avoid detection, she got pretty good at hiding in plain sight. Her mastery culminated in a particularly spectacular maneuver in which she hid in a rack mere inches from a customer.

The rack was laden with heavy trench coats and made for good hiding. The target, a tall burly gentleman, held a hanger with a shirt casually draped over his shoulder. She had watched him carry it around and guessed from his frown that he wasn’t serious about buying it. That he would probably eventually drop it somewhere it didn’t belong was a poor excuse to attempt such a daring swipe. But her competitive instinct turned it into a challenge.

At the best possible moment, Rachel silently reached out and pulled the shirt right off the hanger. She instantly sucked it into the clothing rack with her before it hit the ground. Feeling the hanger go slack, the man turned around to retrieve the shirt, but it wasn’t there. It had disappeared. Rachel almost blew her cover by bursting out laughing when she saw the look on his face.

But the next moment he got his revenge. A slight sway of the rack caught his eye. But before he could suspect Rachel’s trick, the sale sign distracted him. Rachel’s heart stopped when the man reached out to sample one of the coats she happened to be hiding behind.

Rachel inched as far away as she could from the customer until her back pressed up against a lattice support structure. But it wasn’t far enough. In slow motion, the man reached between the coats. Though he still didn’t see her and was only looking for a price tag, his hand came straight toward her. He pawed around blindly then waivered for a moment as if deciding weather it was worth the effort to find the price. He made one more attempt and found much more rewarding prize instead. His rough hand closed directly over her right breast. Rachel froze.

It is impossible to mistake a healthy young breast for anything else. But the man failed to comprehend it because it was so out of context. Of all the things he could encounter inside a clothing rack, a naked breast was among the least expected. While his brain crashed and went into a reboot over the anomaly his hand did not question the good fortune and seized the opportunity.

Without further direction from his brain, the man’s hand switched to auto pilot fondling the terrified girl. Her ripe fruit fit nicely in his large hand and her prominent nipple poked his palm intensely. A squeeze sent chills down her spine.

Surely he had figured it out by now and was only toying with her. But just before Rachel gave up and cried out for him to stop, luck threw her a lifeline.

“Excuse me, do you still sell these socks?” a little old lady had approached the man carrying a pair of her husband’s worn out black socks. Being the only other person in the department, she assumed he was a store employee.

The man broke out of his reverie, withdrew from the rack, and turned to address her. “Sorry, ma’am, I don’t work here.” The lady thanked him and left. When she was gone he returned to the rack with a big smile. But Rachel had taken the opportunity to slip out the other side leaving nothing but cloth and metal. Making a confused ‘humph’ sound the man went back to shopping.

The entire encounter only lasted a few seconds. It felt like eternity. Rachel retreated to the changing area and hid in a stall. She stared at her breast, the one that had been fondled, and waited for the touch sensations to fade. But the nerve endings on her skin incessantly continued to report the man’s rough manipulations.

Though she only had herself to blame for carelessly stumbling into the situation, she wanted to feel offended and angry at the man for groping her despite his innocence in the matter.

**So what if he did not set out to do anything inappropriate? That doesn’t make it right. He should know better than to take advantage of a woman like that. No one has ever touched one of my breasts…

Then it hit her. Not only had someone else fondled her breasts before, but it had happened in this very store last week; a complicated and embarrassing encounter.

Last week, two neighborhood boys caught her hiding naked in the baby clothes section downstairs. She complicity allowed the older one, aged barely into puberty, to touch her boobs in exchange for their silence. It had escalated into a full blown grope session which left Rachel dangerously close to something more embarrassing. Afterward she suppressed the memory and hoped never to recall it.

But the two encounters possessed too many similarities to ignore. The memory came flooding back followed shortly by more tingling. As seconds ticked by, Rachel hoped the feeling would pass. No such luck.

Her mind betrayed her by comparing the two encounters. Both males sampled her goods with equal eagerness. The younger’s smaller hands, unable to adequately embrace their target, were more exploratory in nature. The older comfortably cradled her breast with his large meaty paw; more interested in its weight and fullness.

Rachel whimpered as the dam holding her arousal in check breached and a wave of hormones, not unlike what had prompted her to walk naked past Eric’s room that first time, washed over her. That morning, rather than attending to her arousal the usual way, she had channeled it into risky exhibitionist behavior.

Now trapped in this box surrounded by mirrors she faced a similar choice. Her arousal would continue to build until the inevitable happened. As degrading as the idea seemed, masturbating in the men’s dressing room of a department store, it wasn’t repulsive enough for her to reject it outright.

**This place has been deserted the whole time. What are the odds of someone showing up now?

The alternative was to contrive some naked chore which carried a much higher risk of being caught but should effectively short circuit the arousal feedback loop she was now stuck in. Her body was overheating as she stood there and would soon make the decision for her.

Rachel was about to try another mini-bate to stall for time when she made a shocking discovery. In a blatant act of betrayal her right hand had already reached beneath the skirt waistband and was gently cupping her pussy lips.

But she was too worked up for another mini-bate to work. The first squeeze caused her legs to buckle. Rachel collapsed against the wall with another whimper as the room started spinning. The second squeeze prompted a full blown moan.

“Are you ok in there?”

**SHIT!

Braced in the corner, Rachel yanked her hand from her skirt. “yeh,” her mouth had gone dry. “Yes”

The voice was male but not Pierre’s. ‘You sure?” The inflection indicated doubt, not that she was ok, but as to why she was in there in the first place.

He didn’t seem to be going anywhere until she explained. Rachel looked around the changing room for help. Being the size of a closet, there wasn’t much there to draw from. But she did find something. She was still holding the shirt she had taken off the hanger which reminded her that she had a legitimate reason to be in here. She could pretend she was cleaning up the changing rooms.

**But what if this is the same guy from the rack? He will recognize the shirt and make the connection.

She guessed from his voice, that this was an older gentleman. She decided to take the chance and opened the door with the shirt draped over her front. It was a different man.

“Hi, I was just tidying up. It’s sort of my job today.” She flashed her most helpful smile then turned around standing silently so the man could read her sign.

“…thief, eh? I see.” Apparently he approved of her punishment. “Well, I can’t seem to find any of the regulars today. You’ll have to do. Get me this in a 17,” he dumped a blazer into her arms. And just like that Rachel was the new suit slave.

She automatically took the articles and the man disappeared into one of the closets to await her return. There was only one problem. She could barely stand, much less function, at this high level of arousal which showed no sign of abating on its own. The previous activity which she had been engaged in had routed blood from her brain to more primeval organs. Perhaps for this reason she mistakenly thought now a good time for some risky behavior.

She couldn’t very well go back into her closet and finish, so Rachel floated to the doorway and peeked out at the completely empty and pristine department. If a risky naked challenge really was required to break the arousal feedback loop, she would find no better chance than right now and no simpler task than to exchange this jacket for the right size and come right back.

Verifying the cost clear, Rachel slipped her skirt to the ground. She shivered, not from cold, but from sheer illicit gratification. It reinforced the sense she was doing the right thing. The brand display she needed to get to was on the outer edge of clothing displays along the left hand wall toward housewares. Though she would technically be naked the whole trip, she had emergency cover in the form of one blazer for the way there and its replacement for the way back.

Rachel savored the sensation as she plotted the safest route then ventured out naked between the racks; proud that she had contrived a foolproof way to scratch her arousal itch without embarrassing herself. Sticking to the densest racks and circumventing an open air section, she reached the display without incident, returned the blazer, then looked around for its navy counterparts.

She found them on the wall itself. Meant to draw customers’ attention, the navy blazers were hung as high as possible. Coming closer, Rachel found an extendable metal pole leaning against the wall nearby. It had a little hook on the end for snagging hangers. 

Having never used such a device before, Rachel found the pole too short even if she strained on tiptoe. So she pulled it back down and fumbled to extend it until it would surely reach. Unwieldy at this size, Rachel spread her feet apart to steady herself as the pole inched closer to its goal. Anyone who happened by would have been treated to a clear view of the young lady’s perfectly formed naked body facing the wall and stretching up with the pole up to retrieve the blazer.

The thing about foolproof plans, as with most plans, is that they rarely work out as planned. And unless one is an expert at formulating plans to account for unexpected variables, the odds of succeeding as planned drop precipitously.

Some intuition of foreboding told Rachel just then that she should have thought through her plan a little bit more before stripping naked and venturing out. Perhaps her head started to clear after walking a bit. Perhaps a tremor from the tile into her bare feet warned her of some unidentified impending danger. Regardless, she suddenly felt her plan was seconds away from being blown into total disarray.

**I have to get back to my skirt, now!

Rachel had no time to contemplate or act on that final thought because at that moment the teenagers arrived…


Part 53

It hit like a stampede. The culprits: a group of bored teenagers playing a scavenger hunt game. The rules are simple. Each team of two is given a list of items to find within the store. The team which brings the most number of items to a checkpoint before time runs out is the winner. You lose points for getting caught by store employees. Being escorted out by security represents a forfeit. Stores hate such games because the kids don’t actually buy anything and usually leave a mess behind.

There are two schools of strategy when it comes to mall scavenger hunt. The most popular tactic is scorched earth. Target the least busy departments and move quickly before you are caught. The other tactic involves visiting the busiest departments and blending in with the regular shoppers; sort of a covert operation. On a lazy Sunday afternoon nearly all the departments are empty, so the second floor became their own personal playground. Executive Menswear, whose current staff consisted of a single naked girl, made an easy target.

Rachel had barely set the pole down and taken a step toward safety when she encountered the first one. A boy about her age was striding down the aisle with a purpose. She backpedaled away from the immediate danger and looked wildly around for any type of cover but came up empty.

Left with only her arms and hands, Rachel had to prioritize what body parts to conceal. She did her best to hide her naughty bits which put her in a classic embarrassed naked girl pose. Then he appeared around the corner only a few feet from the stripped goddess. He studied a shelf of executive accoutrements apparently looking for something specific.

Stranded in place, Rachel waited for him to inevitably turn around and notice her. She imagined the look that would appear on his face. She had experienced it many times from men over the last few days. He would soak in every curve of her bare body then probably do it again for good measure. Then he would call his friends over so they could all get some enjoyment at her expense. The thought alone was nearly enough to make her break down and cry. Who could handle such humiliation? Yet somehow she would endure it. She always did.

Most boys have a girl-radar. They can sense when a cute girl is around; even more so if said girl isn’t wearing any clothes. But this boy must have been too focused on his game. Once he found what he was looking for, a cufflink of some sort, and picked it from the shelf, he spun and headed back the way he had come leaving Rachel as yet undetected.

Not about to waste her good fortune, Rachel unfroze and resumed her search for cover. But her blazer mission had taken her beyond the myriad clothing displays and into the realm of trinkets and accessories. The closest fabric based items were the blazers still hanging ten feet above her head and out of reach. Her only hope was to get back to the rest of the clothes racks and put something on. She would settle for anything at this point.

Rachel poked her head around the corner. The place was still crawling with at least a dozen contestants. Another scavenger noticed her peeking out and started toward her. Maybe he worried she would rat them out to store security or thought she was an employee herself, but he intended to investigate either way. Having only seen her head and face, he did not know she was naked. Not yet.

Rachel didn’t wait for him to find out. She backed around the corner and ran to the opposite end of the aisle. Cufflinks must have been a valuable item on the list, because when he got there he stopped chasing her and started studying the shelf like the last boy.

She kept retreating in case the boy decided to take up the chase again. But before crossing the threshold of housewares, Rachel passed one last display. She grabbed a leather belt and a small box containing some sort of white fabric; too small for a t-shirt but better than nothing.

She had reached the end of the tile. Driven from her own department into foreign territory. Housewares was decorated in a different style than executive menswear. Bright lights illuminated long straight aisles of products; from picture frames and candles to dishes and silverware. Stepping onto the laminate flooring generated another twinge of dread. She had delayed her embarrassing capture but only for a little while. Once the scavengers arrived in this unfamiliar place she would be caught for sure.

Rachel passed the dwindling time by adorning her meager plunder in a feeble attempt to become presentable before capture. The men’s size belt was much too big for her tiny waist. She buckled the tongue through the tightest hole and tested it out. When she let go, the belt slid right over her hips and hit the ground with a thud. It only stayed in place if she let it hang diagonally across her hips and kept her legs slightly parted.

Because keeping her legs apart made things even more humiliating, she intended to discard the belt but reconsidered when she opened the other package; a fancy gentlemen’s handkerchief. She unfolded the translucently thin white material then refolded it into a triangle over the belt. It hung down just far enough to cover her exposed pussy; hardly presentable to a roving band of horny teenagers, but an improvement over bare skin. Though it was too late to do anything about her naked bottom and her breasts were still bare and blue as ever, at least the most important part in front was covered.

In the time spent getting ‘dressed’, Rachel had kept alert for sound of kids approaching. Now ready to meet her fate, she strangely heard no sign of them. Could it be they went somewhere else instead?

**I have to know. Better than sitting here forever waiting to get caught.

Placing both hands on her belt to hold the corners of the handkerchief in place, Rachel ambled to the end of the aisle and peeked out. With no employees on guard, the contestants had rampaged through leaving a warzone of clutter in their wake. Despite the incredible destruction wrought in her short absence, Rachel couldn’t help but smile. Because more importantly the department appeared completely deserted.

**Pierre is going to kill me. But I don’t care. I survived, and that’s all that matters.

Rachel proudly marched back into executive menswear like a hero returning to save her war torn homeland. She walked right past the leather and cufflinks displays. She didn’t even look up as she walked under the blue blazers. Her clothing deficiency was much more pressing than that man in the changing room.

She adopted a new plan which involved a nearby rack of windbreakers. Had she been thinking clearly, Rachel would have stopped to wonder what caused the scavengers to dissipate so quickly. But she didn’t have to wonder because just as she reached the windbreakers the answer showed up. And he was not happy


Part 54

“RACHEL! I did not give you permission to alter your uniform.”

Pierre had a talent for sneaking up on people. But he could also make his presence felt when he wanted to. Minutes earlier, like a ripple through a herd of prey, news of the manager’s approach had spread to the scavengers. Sensing their fun ending, they expertly dispersed and made for greener pastures.

He had come to check in on Rachel and found this unprecedented level of destruction and disarray instead. How had she managed to incur all this in only two hours? If it had happened on the watch of one of his employees, he would have fired them on the spot. Worst of all she was nowhere to be seen and had left a valued customer waiting for her in the changing room.

Pierre intended to severely chastise the girl when she showed up. But approaching from behind and seeing how she had altered her uniform compounded his anger. Shunning her skirt completely, she, for some crazy reason wore a handkerchief folded over a belt in its place. Her bottom was bare.

**So being topless didn’t provide adequate thrill for our little exhibitionist, eh? Had to push the envelope. I can certainly oblige. But I cannot condone ruining store merchandise.

He meant the handkerchief demurely draped over her crotch; the sole remaining vestige of modesty rendered unfit for sale by an ever growing collection of blue smudges. This marked the second time he caught the girl not only wearing but ruining store merchandise. Rather than the verbal fleecing he had intended, Pierre improvised and decided a literal fleecing more fitting.

Rachel did not bother defending her actions. By taking her skirt off she had thrown away what precious little control of the situation she could still claim. She had royally screwed up and could only brace for the consequences.

Pierre recognized her posture of defeat. He would not hold back this time around. “Later we shall address these unauthorized alterations as well as the mess you caused. But first there is a more pressing matter at hand.”

Rachel wanted to correct him that she had not caused the mess directly. But scoring that point would do little for her case and arguing would only make things worse. So she kept her mouth shut.

“I have just learned that you abandoned one of our valued customers after agreeing to help him. Isn’t that right, Mr. Dalsington?” Pierre acknowledged someone over Rachel’s shoulder.

The same gentleman from the changing room slowly entered their presence. He carried an entire navy blue suit absent the blazer. He nodded casually in response to Pierre’s question but was more interested in the young lady’s bare bottom. As much as she wanted to run and hide, Rachel stood there and let him look. She had forfeited the right to be offended.

Pierre watched her squirm in silence for a moment and studied her demeanor. She showed obvious discomfort at being so woefully underdressed in their presence. Not exactly the hallmark of a sexual deviant who likes showing off.

**But what do I know about exhibitionists? She can squirm and act shy all she wants. It doesn’t change her past actions or my future ones. This ridiculous ruse will be stripped away along with her clothes and she will serve the rest of her punishment on my terms; like it or not.

“The relationships with our customers are more valuable than anything in the store. You must repair that before we can discuss merchandise reparations. Take Mr. Dalsington’s articles, help him complete his wardrobe, and show him to the register. Since you seem to require supervision, I will accompany you to make sure nothing else goes awry with the sale.”

Pierre barely held his stern face as the girl maneuvered into a comical new pose. Turning around to face the customer, she spread her legs about two feet apart. Then hitching the belt diagonally across her waist so that it was supported by one hip bone, she held out her arms to receive Mr. Dalsington’s purchases. From her wide stance one would think he was about hand her a pile of bricks. Or that she was some wild woman, complete with skimpy jungle dress and blue war paint, preparing to engage Mr. Dalsington in hand to hand combat.

The position afforded Pierre his first good look at Rachel’s naked behind. Her long legs, previously disappearing beneath a skirt, now culminated in a firm round ass usually only found in fantasies but occasionally attained by some younger women through constant conditioning.

For his part Mr. Dalsington didn’t know the store manager beyond his name and title; nor did he particularly like the man. Whatever game Pierre appeared to be playing with this girl eluded him. His best guess was that he was on some prank TV show. Perhaps a hidden camera somewhere was judging his reaction to the attractive female employee gradually losing her clothes.

If so, he commended the casting director’s selection of the girl. She was gorgeous. If not, he could at least use her for a shopping cart. So he dumped the suit he had been lugging around into her waiting arms and stacked the shoes on top. Rachel led him off one direction with Pierre trailing the pair a few feet behind.

After a quick stop at the blazers display where Rachel put on quite a show wrestling the correct garment down from its lofty perch, they continued to the checkout station. Here Pierre’s presence came in handy. Who could blame the checkout clerk for getting flustered by Rachel’s dainty attire? But her boss would allow nothing less than business as usual. His familiar attitude of condescension strangely calmed her nerves and allowed her to focus on the task at hand rather than the nearly naked teenager.

Rachel withdrew to the side so Mr. Dalsington could complete the transaction. She had followed Pierre’s instruction perfectly yet doubted that would be enough to assuage his anger. Her legs remained parted; the only way to keep the belt from falling to the floor. She kept adjusting her bandana in the hopes of finding a less revealing lay.

While the checkout proceeded Pierre asked what was on everyone’s mind, “Care to explain what happened to your work uniform?”

Rachel blushed and chose the intentionally vague answer, “It’s in one of the changing rooms. Number 2 I think.”

Pierre didn’t let her off that easy, “and why did you leave it there?”

“I had to…and there was a…” No easy way to explain that she had intentionally stripped it off to go on a naked jaunt through his store. And no plausible lie came to her just then, “It was getting too hot.”

“Too hot!” Pierre exclaimed before regaining control. Certain zones of her body did indeed seem to be radiating heat, but not the kind that could be alleviated by removing clothes. It was a ridiculous excuse for stripping naked in public but Pierre gladly exploited it. “Well, I’m sorry if your arduous labor caused discomfort. But that does not permit you to discard your uniform.”

Rachel hated discussing such an embarrassing subject in the presence of others.

“Unfortunately, I can’t do anything about your upcoming workload. Restoring your department to original condition will require a considerable individual effort. But I am a reasonable man. After I assess your outfit I may approve some alterations to accommodate you.”

Pierre noticed her fiddling with her kerchief and decided it was time to reclaim his merchandise…


Part 55

“Of course, you must not touch another article until we do something about the ink on your hands. I have a cleaner in housewares which should take care of it. We can return the belt on the way. You may leave the cloth here” he pointed to a trashcan near the register.

Rachel winced. She had anticipated the request, but had hoped to keep wearing it until they got back to her skirt or at least to disrobe somewhere more private. She nervously backed away from Pierre as if he were about to snatch it from her body at any moment and made a feeble argument for keeping a little longer. “There are trashcans at the changing rooms. I’ll throw it away there.”

“You might as well discard it now”, Pierre countered. “I don’t want any shoppers to think you are trying to sell it. It leaves the impression that we don’t take care of our merchandise. Stop wasting my time.”

“No one would try and buy this!” she insisted, “It won’t hurt anything to…”

“I’ll buy it”, Mr. Dalsington suddenly felt it necessary to inject himself into the conversation. Rachel had wasted his time too when she disappeared back at the changing room. He wasn’t above exacting his pound of flesh so to speak. And it would make quite a souvenir.

Trained to respond the words ‘I’ll buy it’, Pierre recovered first. “How kind of you sir. Rachel, deliver the article to Mr. Dalsington and we will be on our way.”

Rachel worked up another blush as she begrudgingly complied with Pierre’s order. She dropped the belt to the floor and stepped out of it. Then she folded the cloth properly and presented it to the gentleman with one hand over her pussy. She was now officially completely naked in the presence of others.

Despite her careful movements, Rachel treated both men to more than a glimpse of her bald mound which glistened with unmistakable arousal. Having received the cloth from the bare naked girl, Mr. Dalsington turned and winked into what he suspected to be a two-way mirror which housed the hidden camera. He wanted to let them know he was more than willing to play along with their ruse but they could come out whenever they pleased. No one appeared.

His last thought as the naked girl got in line behind Pierre and followed him out of sight was to wonder how much they had paid her to play that part. It must have been an enormous sum. Whatever the cost, he now had a new favorite show and a new favorite handkerchief.

With both hands folded over her pussy and the belt hung over her arm, Rachel went with Pierre; not knowing where he would lead her. Her bare feet made a distinct slapping sound on the wood flooring as she rushed to keep up with Pierre’s maddeningly fast pace.

After stopping at the leather stand to drop off the belt, Pierre turned and treaded deep into housewares. Rachel cringed at every shopper she saw. Shrinking below racks, she could only pray they didn’t notice her nakedness.

Their journey ended in an aisle of various cleaning materials. Pierre selected a bottle, “Hold your hands out and make a bowl.”

Complying left her pussy exposed again. She clamped her legs closed as best she could then stood with her hands out as ordered. Pierre overturned the bottle and squeezed out some bright neon green gel. “Be very careful with this stuff. Don’t spill it.” He kept squirting until her hands were nearly full of cold semi-solid cleaning material. He had eliminated any chance she could go back to covering her pussy.

“Come” Pierre rushed off leaving Rachel to play catch up again. But this time she rounded the corner and almost ran smack into him. Then she saw why he had stopped so suddenly and almost died of embarrassment. A young man who looked to be about college age was in the way. He stood at a display of blenders apparently unable to make up his mind.

Pierre had naturally stopped to help; the perfect opportunity to demonstrate proper customer service to the insolent girl.

With her arms occupied by the gel, Rachel could not cover up as she would have liked. She let out a squeak of anguish and turned to the side. As soon as the young man noticed her, he lost all interest in the blenders.

Her skin burned under his gaze and her nipples, which were already hard, somehow grew even more plump. Her knees started to feel weak. From this angle he couldn’t see between her legs, but the fact that nothing but air separated her cute little body from his eyes sent her hormones into overdrive.

**OMG, OMG, OMG.

Rachel stared at the floor and struggled to control her breathing while the college kid adjusted the growing bulge in his shorts. As he studied the naked girl a realization hit him. He had seen her before!

“Hey, do you live near Thornwood high school?”

Rachel shook her head and stared daggers into the floor. Pierre tried to bring the conversation back to shopping, but the man wouldn’t let it go. Then he finally made the connection. How could he forget?

“Yeah! I’ve seen you there before…doing laundry.”

Rachel’s eyes went wide as she looked up at him for the first time. She immediately recognized the same kid who had been driving past her house last week with his buddies while she hung out the laundry. She had been naked at the time but thought the encounter too fleeting to make an impression. Apparently she was wrong.

“Are you, like, a nudist?”

At this point, Pierre was losing patience with the customer. The naked girl had distracted him from making a purchase.

“I can assure you Rachel is not a nudist” he helpfully explained. “She’s serving a punishment for shoplifting” he added in the hopes that the man would relay the warning to any of his college friends about the danger of shoplifting in this particular store. “We must be going, but I would suggest this one.” Pierre grabbed a blender off the shelf and shoved in to the man’s arms then crossed to his other side to continue the journey. “Come along Rachel.”

Rachel scooted toward the man but he showed no sign of widening the path for her. She ended up brushing against him as she squeezed past then hustling on down the aisle as he stared at her naked jiggling ass.

**Oh God. Now he knows my name! He’s going to go back and tell all his college friends about this. I’ll be the joke of the frat house: the horny girl who can’t keep her clothes on.

Speaking of horny, her body was near its breaking point. Only the thought of a very humiliating public orgasm held her arousal in check. But the telltale spasms had already begun. And they would only grow until she dealt with them one way or another.

Pierre guided Rachel to within sight of the store restrooms then gave his instructions. 

“Mix the gel with warm water to activate it. Then scrub the ink off your hands and quickly rinse it off with soap. Once it’s activated you only have a short time to work. It takes a special compound to remove security ink. But I assure you this is strong enough. There are three kinds of dispensers in there. Whatever you do, don’t use the lotion until you get the gel cleaned off completely. They aren’t meant to be mixed. And don’t bother with the regular soap. Go to the far sink where the industrial stuff is. When you’re finished, meet me back at the changing rooms.”

Rachel heard little of it. The more pressing issue of her body’s sexual refrain consumed most of her concentration. When it was clear he had dismissed her to go clean up, Rachel left teetered toward the restroom. How hard could it be to wash her hands? The task was a simple in and out job. But when she stepped through the door, her body had other ideas

[VanessaEvans]

Part 56

For the first time in hours, Rachel had some privacy. Tapping the push button lock with her elbow, she barely took two steps before collapsing against the counter. Her body had one objective; relieve some pressure from her nipples before they burst. To do that she had to free her hands. She spilled most of the gel into the nearest sink but had the presence of mind to rescue enough by rotating her hands until they were coated in the stuff.

Then she could wait no longer. Picturing the college guy’s expression as he drank in her nakedness, she reached up and squeezed both excited nipples.

“ooooOOOOAGH!” she moaned as the pent up hormones radiated from her breasts. More spasms beckoned her below. Eager to scratch that itch, she showed enough restraint to finish cleaning her hands first. No telling what damage this chemical could cause if it got inside her.

**Now what was it Pierre said? Something about the soap dispensers.

Green goo dripping from her blue chest like a B-movie alien costume gone awry, Rachel studied the dispensers on the wall. The first one contained regular hand soap. The second was moisturizing lotion. And the third was simply labeled ‘industrial’.

**Hmm. I’m pretty sure he said to stay away from the lotion…and something about warm water.

She waivered between the other two options but settled for regular soap. She could always add some industrial soap later if this didn’t work. Standing on wobbly legs she leaned over and squirted a dollop of soap into her left hand. Then she twisted the ‘H’ faucet tap.

“Woah!” She had misjudged the pressure and had to jump back as water sprayed from the sink in all directions.

By the time she worked close enough to turn it off, the temperature had risen to somewhere between scalding hot and pure steam. A fair amount of water had splashed up onto her chest; a minor annoyance as she could easily dry off later and a lesser concern than the precariously slick floor.

Sliding back in front of the sink, Rachel worked the soap-gel mixture in her hands vigorously. Her enthusiasm stemmed not from a desire to get clean. Rather, spasms were coming with more frequency now and she was impatient to tend to her body’s sexual needs.

After a minute of scrubbing she checked her progress. The effort had perhaps loosened some spots of stubborn ink but not fast enough for her taste. But just as she was about to give up and try the other soap, something started to happen.

The smattering of water droplets from the sink incident combined with the soluble-by-design hand soap had provided enough moisture to induce the green gel into a chemical reaction. Like magic the gel solidified into a thick filmy paste not unlike glue. Rachel would have studied the phenomenon longer if not for the burning sensation.

A common trait among successful individuals is that adversity tends to breed determination. Whereas a lesser person might panic at this point, Rachel managed to focus through her sexual haziness and recall Pierre’s warnings. The gel expanded and hardened and little bubbles appeared on the surface while the pain continued to increase.

**Pierre wouldn’t have put it on me if it were actually dangerous. I just have to stay calm and follow his instructions. He said water would activate it and that I should scrub it off quickly. And he definitely said to use the industrial soap. Yes!

Sequestering the warning signals from her hands, Rachel calmly scooted over to the far sink and quickly dispensed a good amount of industrial soap. Unlike the flowery smelling hand soap, this was a coarse gray substance with bits of grit obviously meant for serious cleaning. With renewed urgency she resumed scrubbing. When she could take it no longer, Rachel turned on the spigot and shoved her hands under a stream of cold water. Nothing happened.

The gel had encased her hands in a green shell too hard for the water to penetrate. It would not budge until the time was ripe for it to finish its job. After a couple minutes of tortuous agony she was able to gradually peel back the scabbed layers by scraping her hands together. Where she broke through the water did finally relieve the pain as Pierre had intimated.

Pain slowly subsided as Rachel peeled off more and more shell. It apparently cooked the ink right off her along with an outer layer of skin cells. The result was a pair of perfectly pristine if slightly tender hands.

Rachel was just starting to calm down from the near catastrophe when the real problem hit. She had been so focused on her hands; she had forgotten the globs on her chest. The water droplets had begun the chemical reaction there as well; albeit at a slower rate. And her over stimulated nerve endings had taken longer to register their distress.

When she re-noticed it, she acted on her first instinct to get it off immediately and made the terrible mistake in the process. Reaching up with both hands she tried to wipe the gel clean off her chest. But it had already bonded with her skin and begun the transformation to gluey paste. And the infusion of water to the equation sealed the deal.

“no, no, NO!”

Pawing at her chest prompted more shivers as her body oscillated between discomfort and arousal. It appalled Rachel to learn that squeezing her nipples produced pleasure even in the midst of such torment. The endorphins served to counteract the pain so she continued pinching them as long as she could. But like adding fuel to a fire, the extra water from her hands accelerated the gel’s transformation. Soon she could do nothing but wait as before when it expanded into round discs then hardened. Her chest had received the heaviest coat of ink which set the stage for the massive chemical battle ongoing beneath the shell.

Rachel danced around the restroom as the two inadvertently constructed chemical pasties attacked her breasts. Seeing her hands reassured her that there would be no permanent damage to the sensitive skin underneath. But that didn’t prevent it from hurting like hell and chasing away any thoughts of resuming her bate session.

She paced the floor on the verge of tears and mentally kicked herself for the moment of weakness which had transferred the gel to her nipples in the first place. In the back of her mind, some future worry coalesced. But it was too vague to dwell on and the immediate pain to real.

When the fire on her chest reached its furious climax indicating her ordeal was nearly over, Rachel filled a sink with water. She intended to splash the water up as the chemical flaked off. But when the time came she needed more intense relief. She leaned over, submerged her breasts and performed the removal process underwater.

Because of the relatively smooth contours of her firm chest, the each shell peeled off mostly in one piece.

Relief.

For some time Rachel massaged her breasts beneath the cool water. It still did not sink in how the loss of ink would affect her uniform. Not until she stood up and looked in the mirror did she see the full consequence of her moment of weakness.

“OH MY GOD!”…


Part 57

Pierre reached the changing room and found the girl’s skirt folded right where she said it would be in room two. He went straight to the tailor station to get some scissors. Anger seethed beneath the surface as he trace cut around the sign.

**Kids these days have no respect.

She dared to report to work dressed like a stripper. Then she had proceeded to act like a stripper; discarding the supplied uniform and abusing store merchandise like it was her own personal wardrobe closet. The sign was supposed to send a message to potential shoplifters. It couldn’t if the girl didn’t wear it.

Pierre cut out the entire skirt except the waist. He left the sign attached to a one inch band. The rectangle was plenty big enough to cover her pussy if she wore it facing forward. But her entire backside would be exposed. Or turning it the other way around would force her to keep one hand strategically placed at all times. He hadn’t decided how she should wear it yet and he wasn’t going to let her pick. Once in place a spot of superglue would prevent her from adjusting it or leaving it behind again.

**If she doesn’t want to wear the skirt, I can accommodate that. But she is still going to wear the damn sign. Where is the damn girl anyway?

When the girl didn’t return from the restroom in a timely manner, Pierre took his anger out on the sign. First he cut the corners off to make it an oval. No problem as long as the message remained. A few minutes later he got impatient and traced around the words themselves. Finally he targeted all remaining white space by cutting the holes out of the O’s and D’s. The result was black lettering which hung in space.

Her fair unblemished skin would make an ideal background for his new design; though its ability to conceal anything was effectively ruined.

Just when he was about to go searching for her, Rachel arrived; looking a whole new level of ridiculous. Pierre could have laughed at the whole thing if it weren’t so erotic. The naked girl sported her same impressive bosom only this time sans ink.

Her chest looked like two dart boards. A field of blue ink which still covered her torso encircled and bounded the game board. Bulging areas of healthy white breast flesh formed the outer scoring area. Only a hint of pink tenderness remained from the chemical purification process. Next came her areolas in the center; a brighter shade of pink. And her nipples were two bulls-eye darts which had already found their target.

That she said nothing about the ink’s mysterious disappearance only intensified the silliness of it all. Pierre played along and didn’t mention it. He inspected and approved the cleanliness of her hands and pretended to not even notice her bare chest.

Pierre positioned the sign around her waist facing forward. He calculated it would actually be more embarrassing this way. In addition to her bottom being completely exposed she would also have to keep her hands away from the front so people could read the sign. An attentive reader would surely notice her hairless pussy lips peeking out through the holes. He applied a few drops of super glue in the small of her back to keep the band in place then he got down to business.

“You have failed every assignment thus far. I will not release you from duty until you have restored this department to original condition. You are welcome to stay late and finish. But if you must leave, you will return for as many days as it takes.”

Rachel made it clear that she intended to finish today; even if she had to stay all night.

“Very well. I will contact your ride and let them know you may be working late. I will be back later to check on you. Remember, the store is not closed yet and you are still responsible for assisting customers in your department. If I return to find you shirking that responsibility, I will consider it a violation of our agreed terms and have to insist on a reinstatement of the original full four week punishment.”

She accepted the terms without arguing. So Pierre left her alone and returned to his office to work on some pressing end of week tasks. The store would be closing in about two hours.

Rachel got right to work on the enormous task ahead of her. It seemed the scavengers had left no rack untouched. Despite Pierre’s dire warning, she didn’t help the first few customers who ventured by. She simply couldn’t bring herself to do it in her nearly nude state. She gambled that Pierre wouldn’t be back so soon and kept hidden until they left.

Finally an older gentleman who reminded her of Mr. Dalsington arrived. Wearing nothing but a skimpy sign and a friendly smile, Rachel gathered her courage and stepped out.

“How my I assist you?” her body found another blush stashed away somewhere as the man took in the pleasant surprise. She silently pointed to the sign and kept smiling.

The man took his sweet time studying the sign and, once he understood what was going on, gladly took advantage of the nude girl’s hospitality. He ended up buying over $500 worth of merchandise.

The process repeated several times. Rachel still avoided younger men and only dared approach the older ones. Each new customer brought another round of embarrassment as he appraised her naked body and then took time to ‘read the sign’. But Pierre was right about one thing. Sex sells. And every customer she helped ended up making several large purchases.

But helping customers used up most of her cleaning time. When the store closed at 7:30, she had barely touched the mess. As promised Pierre let her stay late and finish the job. The exhausted girl finally finished around 9:30 and trudged back through the now empty store to the main offices. She had worked right through dinner but didn’t care. She would be elated if she never saw this store again.

Rachel used Pierre’s desk phone to call Susan to pick her up then walked back to change into her regular outfit. But when she got to her clothes an unfortunate surprise awaited her


Part 58

Rachel had unknowingly left her jean skirt and red leather vest in a precarious position. The tiny shelf where she had stowed her articles was actually too small to contain them. It also sat directly over the still open bucket of ink. It looked more secure than it was because the magnets on her vest had latched onto bracket near the back of the shelf.

Over the course of several hours the magnets slowly lost the battle with gravity and detached from the bracket. When that happened, both articles of clothing tipped off the shelf and landed directly in the bucket. By the time Rachel returned, they were thoroughly ruined by the ink.

Rachel didn’t know how to react. She was frustrated by the shocking turn of events, fearful of Susan’s wrath when she found out about yet another ruined outfit, and embarrassed that she was once again stranded without clothes in such a public place and would most likely have to ride home naked. She would have blushed again if her body hadn’t already used them all up. But more than anything she was tired.

She returned to Pierre empty handed and unclothed except for her shoes. Pierre didn’t ask about her clothes. If the young lady wanted to remain naked for the rest of the evening, what did he care? He was in a genial mood after checking the register and seeing her late-day sales numbers. He snipped off the sign but had to leave a little square of fabric where he had super glued it to her back. It would come off on its own eventually.

He escorted her to the exit and explained that she would have to wait outside for her ride because he was locking up. She seemed unaffected by being forced to wait outside naked. It must not have bothered her because it was dark out now and the mall was deserted. But after Pierre said goodbye, Rachel backed into the shadows of some foliage where she could still see the approaching driveway. Here the day’s stress finally caught up to her and she started to cry.

**What’s the use in fighting anymore? Everything I do I end up naked. I never should have given mom my clothes at the tryout. I never should have put that swim uniform on. And I certainly never should have walked home in it. I wish I could just stop hiding and not be so embarrassed by the exposure.

But she knew that would never work because the arousal feedback loop kept her body in a near constant state of arousal. Orgasmic release was the only way out, but she couldn’t even achieve that anymore. She was stuck. That made her angry.

**Get a hold of yourself, girl. It’s no use sniveling in the corner. You have to face your problems head on and overcome it. Nothing is too difficult. Create a plan of attack and follow through.

Right there in the bushes Rachel developed a new strategy to deal with her situation. All semblance of privacy had been stripped away over the past two weeks and she was running herself ragged trying to contain her resulting embarrassment and arousal. She needed to start picking her battles more carefully. Perhaps she could manage her problem by reducing opportunities for exposure and compartmentalizing existing ones.

She had already learned to cope at swim practice. She was comfortable enough around her teammates not to feel embarrassed anymore even after incorporating the pinnacle.

Giving up on school was out of the question. Whatever outfits Susan threw her way, she had to make the best of it and limit her exposure. High school is the center of the universe for a teenage girl. She could not afford to let her guard down there.

That left her home life. If she was destined to be naked or nearly so, she realized she had to stop hiding from Eric’s family. It took too much of her energy to shy away from them after being barely dressed and on guard all day at school. She had to get down time somewhere.

There were plenty of gaping flaws in her new strategy. Not the least among them would be intentionally cutting out all extemporaneous activities and limiting her domain to home, school, and swimming. It also meant giving up all prospect of extracurricular interactions; including school dances, community activities and a boyfriend. But hadn’t she basically already done that by joining the swim team?

**Beside, what good are social activities if you’re constantly dragged down the path of utter public humiliation?

She pictured herself going on a date with Tommy at a fancy downtown restaurant only to end up buck naked.

**NO THANKS!

The most glaring hole remained. What would she do when it came time to actually travel to swim meets? At least she had a few weeks to work on that one. She didn’t let it deter her.

Rachel always felt better when she had a plan of execution. Susan’s arrival gave her the first chance to advertise her new lax attitude toward nudity in the presence of Eric’s family. Initially Susan was not impressed. A naked blue ink stained girl appearing from the shadows confused her enough to throw off her train of thought.

“Rachel? What are you doing out here naked? Where are your clothes, young lady?”

“I’m not naked! See?” Rachel spun around and pointed to the one inch square of fabric on her lower back before bouncing into the passenger seat. She dissipated the showdown by making light of the situation. Eric did that sort of thing with his parents all the time with great success. Rachel made a note to hone that tactic for future use.

Susan, taken aback by the jest, temporarily dropped the issue. But it still bothered her enough to regret working so hard that afternoon to alter Rachel’s one remaining outfit for school the next day.

**I should have sent her to school with her ass hanging out. Maybe then she would learn some respect. Oh well. Let’s see how she likes wearing the same outfit for a week!

She gave the girl a guarded smile and started the car…


Part 59

Rachel returned home. Over the course of the next week she continued to put her new strategy into practice. She restricted her activities to three arenas; school, swim practice, and home.

As promised, Susan made her wear her wonderland dress to school every day. The modifications made it marginally acceptable. But when she got home, Rachel forced herself to shed it and spend her evenings naked. She doubted she would ever get comfortable with it, but she could appreciate routine. It helped that Richard was out of town at a conference.

Eric certainly took notice that Rachel stopped hiding around the house. She still wore her work apron when doing chores, but the rest of the time she wore nothing at all. She indicated no shame in showing her bare body, though her nipples betrayed her true feelings and were almost always fully erect. She wore her cupless nightgown to bed.

Rachel found an unlikely ally in Eric. She appreciated how he, as a sort of courtesy, casually mentioned when Tommy would be stopping by. At those times she would find an excuse to make herself scarce or go put her school clothes back on. She wasn’t ready for Tommy to see her naked just yet.

The hardest day came the next Saturday. By then the mood of the house had taken a dive. Susan’s suspicions of Richard tended to kick into high gear when he went away to his conferences; and with good cause. Spending a week or two at some fancy beach resort with a bunch of interns made for a breeding ground of infidelity. By the Saturday she was a basket case. It didn’t help that she had missed out on a week of satisfaction herself. She wasn’t ashamed to admit Richard made a good sexual partner. He was physically blessed where it counted.

Overall Rachel’s compartmentalizing strategy seemed to be working. She had gone a whole week without embarrassing herself in public. School had provided a few close calls, but her diligence prevented anything too serious. But after five days of nothing but school, swim practice, and chores Rachel was starting to feel like a prisoner. That her occasional masturbation attempts proved unsuccessful only added to her frustration. By Saturday she was pacing the house snapping at anything that moved.

While Rachel was stuck at home, Eric had no such restrictions. Faced with two angry women, he made the prudent choice to get out of there. He spent the rest of the weekend holed up at Tommy’s house playing video games.

But something else was real source of Rachel’s sour mood. At that very moment her Thornwood varsity team was in pitched competition with Eastern Academy at the first swim meet of the season. But Rachel was missing it because of her suspension. It ate her up inside that she couldn’t be with her team battling for victory.

Ellie had promised to update her throughout the day but she hadn’t yet received a single phone call. She didn’t know if that was a good sign or bad. When Ellie didn’t call by lunch time, Rachel got fed up and decided to take some practice laps.

She had to wear her team uniform. Typically she would avoid wearing it outside of the aquatic facility. But Richard and Eric were both gone and she didn’t own a casual swimsuit anyway. Two full weeks of training with the pinnacle were starting to pay off. The insertion process was much easier now. Rachel was able to relax her vaginal muscles at the proper time then flex them to draw it inside her.

When she wasn’t swimming she could now easily hold the pinnacle in place without any anchor inflation. But from experience she knew that her body would start to product lubrication and the anchor would eventually slip. As a precaution she usually inflated it about half way and could make it through practice without any trouble. Then she sauntered out into the back yard to work out some nervous energy the hot sunshine.

Lap after lap Rachel alternated strokes. These last two weeks of training had really elevated her conditioning to new levels. She felt stronger and more confident in her abilities than ever. Surely the pinnacle had something to do with that. She pictured herself attending a meet in her uniform. In the water everyone was equal. It didn’t matter what you wore or even if you wore anything at all.

When she pondered her situation she had to admit it wasn’t so bad after all. For this stage in her life she could live with a little exposure if it meant becoming a champion. She was truly ready and couldn’t wait for her chance to compete and win…

[Buckaroo]

Is there anymore to this episode? Episodes, I and II end with "The End".

Episode III and IV don't show a "The End".