1 comments/ 22354 views/ 9 favorites Dress Off Origins: Jane vs Kate By: enf_cavalier [Back in 2013-14, I wrote a series of stories based on an international spy agency full of women who were prone to losing their clothing. I had to take a break due to personal reasons. This is my attempt to kickstart things off again. Dress Off 0 follows on from the events in the flashback in Dress Off 4. Tanya Munro and Sarah Lowell, having escaped from Elizabeth Harrington, are now trying to live new lives as Tess Trueheart and Sonya Foxwell. After several close encounters with Harrington's own agents, Tess and Sonya have decided to leave the U.S. and hide out in the remote pacific island country of New Zealand. To get there, they must first take a long haul flight with a stop-over in Sydney, Australia...] [Transit Lounge, Sydney International Airport, late 2004] The tired hum of the airport transit lounge continued unabated as Sonya sunk deeper into her seat. She almost had to pry her eyes open after the long-haul flight that they'd just suffered through, and right now all she wanted to do was sleep. She lazily leaned over and glanced over at the nearby bookstore, where she could just make out the figure of her partner browsing in front of a stand of magazines. "Come on Tess." Sonya muttered to herself, rubbing her eyes and absent-mindedly checking their travel documents one last time. Not that there was a huge rush. There was still half an hour before their connecting flight to Auckland, New Zealand was due to board. Sonya poked in a desultory manner at the muffin that she'd just bought from the cafe. She pulled a face both at how stale it was, and at just how much staleness apparently cost these days. Sonya couldn't even force herself to read through the guidebook for the fifth time since they'd left the U.S. Instead, the red-headed beauty had to content herself with scanning the crowd and making wild guesses about her fellow passengers. Old lady heading towards her, she noted. Mid fifties, Sonya guessed. Looks like she works out even in her later years, and with a no-nonsense suit that spoke of a certain familiarity with - and expectation of - power. Possibly some high-flying executive, Sonya thought. Still, no noticeable laptop case she pondered, and executives seemed chained to them these days. Instead, she was only carrying a small purse and a coffee cup. Sonya shifted slightly in her seat as she suddenly realised the woman wasn't just heading in her general direction, but was actually on an intercept course for the table she was at. Sonya was already half way out of her seat and furiously signalling to Tess Trueheart as the older woman arrived. Without even saying a word, she gracefully took a seat opposite Sonya, laid her purse neatly to one side, placed her coffee directly in front of her, and smiled warmly. "Miss Howell. I do believe we need to talk." Sonya froze. It had been four years since she'd last heard her old name so casually tossed out by a stranger. "Umm. Tess!" Sonya called out, finally attracting the attention of her friend. ******** Tess Trueheart drew back a chair next to Sonya, treating the stranger to a cold stare as she sat down. "Who are you, and what do you want?" Tess demanded, forsaking any pleasantries in favour of the direct approach. The woman smiled back despite the frostiness of the welcome, and delicately pushed a card towards the two travellers. Sonya leaned forward slowly, and retrieved the card from the middle of the table, and handed it over to Tess, who glanced down at it with a grim expression. "Angelica Highsmith. Decider Enterprises." Tess read out loud. She flipped the card on to Sonya, before returning to stare back at Highsmith. "Is that supposed to mean anything to us?" The lady held Tess's stare as she replied. "Well my dear. I hope that one day it means a lot to you both. In the meantime though, I'm afraid it'll simply have to do that it means I'm a friend." "A... friend?" Sonya repeated. "Any why exactly are you... Angelica... our friend?" Highsmith coughed delicately. "Well. Perhaps dear Sarah..." "It's Sonya now." Sonya interjected, firmly. Highsmith paused, before acknowledging the correction and moving on. "Well then, perhaps dear Sonya I should confess it's more a case of 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend.'" Both Sonya and Tess arched their eyebrows with near perfect synchroneity, as Highsmith allowed her permanent smile to thin slightly. "We have, you see, a mutual acquaintance. I believe you know her as Elizabeth Harrington." "Really." replied Tess abruptly, involuntarily tensing at the name of the woman whose organisation had chased her and Sonya to the ends of the Earth. "And how exactly do you know her?" Highsmith sighed, and took a sip of her coffee. "I don't think that's really important right now. I suppose I could say that what is important is that Harrington and her employers pose a very real threat to the stability of the world. I suppose I could say that I surprisingly find myself with no-one else to ask for help, and that the good people of free nations need your help. However," Highsmith said, sipping her coffee again, "I think it's fair to say that what is of the most immediate importance is that we're having this conversation. Which means I'm afraid that I've found you. Which means that Harrington - with all her resources - will eventually find you too. Not even New Zealand is outside our little global village any more, you see." Highsmith paused, and placed her palms out on the table, one each in front of the two best friends and fugitives, in silent encouragement for both Tess and Sonya to hold her hands. "So I'm very much afraid that sooner or later it'll be time to turn and fight. And I think you're going to need my help." "Do you want to know what the good news is though, in the midst of all this doom and gloom?" Highsmith sighed happily as she took in her latest reluctant recruits. "Well, it's that I think I'm going to need your help too..." ******** [Three months later, early 2005 and the middle of another hot Sydney summer.] "... and so that's why, Miss Barton, we very much look forward to seeing the work that you and Miss Houston deliver at the board meeting on the 18th." The old man behind the desk smiled, and leaned back in his chair with a satisfied expression on his face. "Of course," he added, "it'll mean we'll have to work a few late nights." he beamed. Oblivious to the metaphorical steam coming out of Jane Barton's ears, and the fact that the woman's fixed smile and wide-eyes barely held back the rage within, he added as an after-thought. "That's why I decided it was best to bring you both on board rather than just one of you, as I originally suggested." Standing up and politely indicating the door to Miss Barton, he watched as the latest addition to his accountancy firm stood up, almost robotically he had to admit, and muttered a few thanks through a thin crack between her perfectly white teeth. Jane Barton excused herself from the meeting, pivoted quickly on her feet, and marched out of the room. Had the partner not been lost in his own personal daydream brought on by the sight of the retreating figure, it might have struck him as vaguely rude the way the door was closed with more than the necessary amount of force. He enjoyed his conversations with both Jane Barton and Kate Houston, and considering he was the partner who'd approved their hiring as interns at LQMG over the summer, he mused to himself that he deserved some congratulations on being able to spot such... talent. They were certainly both destined to be top flight accountants, and absolutely no-one could accuse him of hiring them purely for their looks when he could show anyone and everyone a pair of academic records that had more A's than the first five pages of a dictionary. Not that A's were everything, the partner reminded himself, mentally picturing Miss Barton's pair of delightful Ds. No, the fact that both Jane Barton and Kate Houston were absolutely beautiful specimens of womanhood, each a youthful twenty years old and approaching the peak of their physical prime, was merely a wild coincidence that had absolutely nothing to do with him cancelling all subsequent hiring interviews once he'd first set eyes on their profile photos. They'd go far in the accountancy industry. That Kate Houston wore a skirt whose length (or lack thereof) might in more prudish circles be considered unprofessional (and yet - surely, he thought - entirely forgivable) was absolutely not a consideration when the partner had decided to assign the academically gifted brunette to his own personal project. Similarly, Jane Houston's recent inability to do up quite a few of the buttons on her blouse - often the sign of a slack approach to personal presentation for most people, and yet strangely not without appeal when superimposed on Miss Houston's 32D bust - was clearly not a factor in the intellectually stimulating blonde finding herself being made part of that same personal project of his. And now, the partner thought to himself, these two beautiful and undeniably talented women would have the chance to do all the hard work of presenting a business case that he stood to benefit from greatly. If he could convince the board back in Europe that they could get enough new clients to justify expanding their Sydney operations further, then his little empire here down under could more than adequately fund a meteoric rise to millionaire-hood. Yes, everything was going swimmingly, he thought. His two interns will be in such a good mood now that they both know they have an opportunity to learn from a master such as himself, that who knows what may happen. ****** The air conditioning whirred away, competing with the oppressive heat of a scorching Sydney summer afternoon. The noise of the office was a symphony of keyboards, phone calls, and murmured conversations, as Jane Barton sat down rigidly in her chair. The plastic, fake smile that she'd held all the way through the latter half of her talk with the senior partner still hadn't broken, although there was now an almost-manic quality to it. "Everything okay?" asked the woman in the next cubicle. Jane turned to face her neighbour, and tried to visualise positive, warm and fuzzy thoughts. "Oh, great, great!" Jane said, through clenched teeth. The other woman - blonde, immaculately dressed, and with a youthful look that nevertheless hinted at years of hard experience - raised a single, perfectly manicured eyebrow in a questioning reply. "Really?" she added, pausing for effect, before pushing back on her desk and sending her office chair scooting over to where Jane sat, knuckles slowly turning white. "Okay." the woman said, slowly. "How'd the meeting with the senior partner go?" "Oh, you know." Jane replied, with a failed attempt at off-handedly waving off the maddening disappointment. "I'm on the team!" Jane added, with a far higher pitch than she probably intended. "That's... good, isn't it?" her colleague offered, nevertheless noting the complete disconnect between Jane's cheerful tone and her spring-loaded body language. "Oh, yes, yes!" Jane replied, as her smile showed no sign of abating even in the face of the burning sensation coming from her cheeks. "Apparently though," Jane continued after a few moments of tense silence, turning back to face her computer rather than let her face be seen by her new friend, "the senior partner had to meet some kind of bitch quota for the team as well, seeing as how Kate's on the project too!" "Oh." the other woman replied. Out of peripheral vision, she could already see their three nearest work colleagues spontaneously discover that they were urgently needed in some meeting somewhere else. Had anyone taken the time to quiz them on what the meeting was about, they would have answered that it about something that they'd undoubtedly be able recall, just as soon as they were safely outside the eruption zone. The woman merely leaned forward and waited for the inevitable explosion. "It's not fair Tess!" Jane shouted, her voice going from forced calm to wild rage quicker than a mere human ear could distinguish. "She steals everything! You know that, don't you?" Jane pleaded, partly succeeding in regaining control over herself - at least for the time being - and spinning around to face Tess imploringly. "Boyfriends, essays at University, she takes it all!" She muttered. "I just know that I'm going to do all the hard work on this project, and that brown-haired butt-faced boyfriend-stealing bitch-slut is going to come through and take all the credit for everything I do!" Jane flung herself back on her chair and let a look of defeat mar her otherwise perfect features. "A little premature, don't you think?" Tess said gently, before reaching forward and placing a friendly hand on Jane's knee. "Look. Jane. I know you and Kate have had this feud for a while." With an understanding smile, Tess squeezed Jane's knee as a gesture of support. "Perhaps it's time to find a way to... you know... end this feud?" "Come on Tess!" Jane said, in an exasperated tone. "Kate's not going to apologise, and she's not going to stop being Kate! No amount of psychobabble from some mediator is going to make any difference." Tess narrowed her eyes for a moment as she pondered the best way to proceed. "Well, I wasn't exactly thinking of 'psychobabble' to be honest." Tess pushed back her chair to her own desk, and reached over to a pile of papers. Retrieving a business card buried under the stack, she looked at the card for a few moments, seemingly thinking something through. Finally, hesitatingly, Tess handed the card over to Jane. The card was a simple affair, with simply the words "Decider Enterprises" and an email address laid out in a clean font. "I don't know." Jane said, doubtfully. She looked long and hard at the card, clearly conflicted as to what to do. "I mean, what makes you think Kate has any interest in ending this? What makes you think she'd have any interest in actually being a half-decent human being?" "Oh." said Tess, all of a sudden radiating a confidence and calmness that was at complete odds with the uncertainty and confusion that was plaguing Jane. "I think... if you'll let me have a go... that I could talk Kate into seeing the benefits of ending this." Tess smiled broadly at Jane. "Don't you worry Jane, I have a feeling all this bad-blood between the two of you is about to come to an end." **** The meeting room felt an order of magnitude smaller than it really was as an oppressive silence settled in around it's two occupants. Jane absent-mindedly ran a hand through her blonde hair, purposefully avoiding eye contact with the brunette who sat uncomfortably close beside her. The corridor outside was quiet, which in of itself was unusual even allowing for the fact that it was 6:00pm at night and a large number of their colleagues had already headed home. However, both women were far too focussed on ignoring each other to notice anything else untoward. In the middle of the table in front of them, a laptop sat open and passive. The computer had been delivered by a courier - no return address supplied - some ten minutes back, and both Jane and Kate had wordlessly taken possession of it, both privately wondering what they were about to get themselves into. The innocent-enough desktop background of a mountain range seemed utterly at odds with the clandestine nature of their meeting. Jane heard Kate cough, and tensed herself to avoid subconsciously turning to even acknowledge the existence of her bitter rival. The bitch could choke for all Jane could care. Her business tonight was with the laptop. So it was with an audible sigh of relief that Jane greeted the sudden burst of noise that emitted from the computer. An application fired up unbidden by the two interns, and neither was left in any doubt that they now had a live audio link with... someone, out there. "Ladies." It was a woman's voice. Calm, authoritative, and surprisingly young sounding. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I'm informed that you have a problem that I may be able to help with." Neither woman replied for a moment, and for the first time since entering the room, they turned and looked at each other. The nervousness was evident in both of their eyes. "Well..." Kate started, slowly. "You've been recommended by a mutual friend." "She's done you both a huge favour then." the voice responded. "I believe it's fair to say that you have an relationship that's... ahh... incompatible with you both remaining in Sydney?" Breaking a long standing tradition, both Jane and Kate found themselves quickly agreeing on something. "Good." the voice said, in a satisfied tone. "You see, we have a game we like to play that I think will be of great help to you both. Perhaps, " the voice added after a moment's reflection, "it's fair to say that one of you will be helped in a slightly unusual way. Still, those in trouble can't always be choosey about the help they receive." Kate cautiously leaned towards the laptop, and asked in a quiet voice. "So just to be clear here, we're talking about embarrassment and humiliation for the loser." "Oh yes Miss Houston. As much embarrassment and humiliation as you would each wish for the other. Rest assured that the loser will be looking for a new life elsewhere. We are not without compassion as well, and you can count on us to help in that regard." "How... umm... how does it all work?" Jane now asked, matching Kate's pose. "Quite simple Miss Barton. You'll each have a series of clues to solve, and each clue you solve will bring a little more embarrassment to your opponent." "How, exactly, is that supposed to happen?" "Well," the voice on the laptop replied smoothly. "Are either of you familiar with Janet Jackson's wardrobe malfunction at the Superbowl last year?" The two women nodded mutely. Somehow the voice at the other end of the connection must have sensed this. "Let's just say that we have wardrobe malfunctions that will make Ms Jackson's look like something Disney would put together..." **** The streets of Sydney's central business district were busy, even at this early hour in the evening. It was too early for most of the nightclubbers to be out just yet, but there were plenty of office workers still enjoying a couple of drinks after a long, drawn-out Friday, and the glorious summer weather was all the encouragement that people needed to sit outside. Not everyone was outside though, and not everyone was thoroughly relaxed. Jane Barton jiggled nervously from one foot to the next, trying to get her feet comfortable in the new shoes she'd been provided with. The entire outfit she now wore was alien to her. That was one undeniable component of the sense of fear that threatened to derail her thoughts. Another component was that tonight was also the night of the big presentation to the board in Europe. Timezones being what they were, the presentation was set for 11:00pm. That only gave her two hours to complete this game and get to the presentation. She had a sneaking suspicion that the timing of the game was not a coincidence. Outside the door she faced, she could hear the conversations get increasingly louder as the relieved bar patrons slowly drank their way towards forgetting the woes of their latest work week. Behind her, safely secured in a plastic bag buried deep in the rubbish bin, were the clothes that she'd walked into the bar wearing. The clothes had been soaked with water from the basin by the bin, and Jane was eternally grateful that she'd caught a lucky break while changing. By some small blessing, she'd been the only woman who needed to use the ladies toilet at Ferguson's Bar & Grill for the two minutes it had taken her to strip off and get changed. Dress Off Origins: Jane vs Kate As ordered by the mysterious voice, Jane had dutifully rinsed all her old clothes in water, to the point that they were now completely saturated and unwearable. Depositing them in the plastic bag, and burying them under paper towels in the rubbish bin, had really driven home to Jane that she was now very much at the mercy of a game she'd never played, and against an opponent who'd like nothing more than to see Jane naked and humiliated. "Positive thoughts!" Jane reprimanded herself, shaking her head as if to dislodge the concerns and fears that were beginning to cloud her thoughts. Now she simply stood there, facing the door, half-expecting some stranger to come barging in any moment and ask what the hell she was up to, all the time waiting for a phantom voice to pipe up in her earpiece. She subconsciously patted herself down, feeling the smooth contours of the white business blouse that she wore, and tugged at the hem of the jet-black skirt that gracefully flowed down her legs. The skirt wasn't actually all that immodest, Jane had to admit to herself - not without a trace of suspicion though. The skirt may have only gone 2/3rds of the way down towards her knees, and gave anyone who saw her a decent look at her well-toned thighs, but it was hardly skin-tight, and rather hung loosely with a generous give to it that made it relatively easy to walk in. The heels, while not shockingly high, compensated for the skirt by suggesting that running was not going to be in her immediate future. Jane had worn heels before, but admittedly didn't have much experience with stilettos, and this was going to require some concentration and nimble footwork to maintain any kind of graceful appearance. Underneath it all were a pair of matching white panties and bra that were stylish without being overly risqué, while a pair of sheer stockings that almost reached up to the hemline of her skirt were sufficiently transparent not to clash too much with the rest of her attire. All in all, the clothing that Decider Enterprises had supplied Jane with bordered on the mundane, and that's what had got the more suspicious part of Jane's mind reeling with dark possibilities. Still, she chided herself, this was the time to be thankful for small mercies. She wouldn't have to go out in the bar beyond that door in some slutty outfit better befitting a stripper, and if she got all the clues right, then Kate would be the one suffering any of the promised clothing malfunctions. That last thought brought a smile back to Jane's face, and she was beginning to visualise a nude, mortifyingly embarrassed, and suitably chastised Kate Houston when the earpiece she was wearing suddenly sparked to life. "Miss Barton." a woman's voice said, briskly. It was the same voice Jane had heard on the laptop only a few weeks ago. "Are you ready to go." "Ready." Jane replied curtly, not in the mood for extended conversation that might break her concentration. "Well." the voice continued, with a slight hint of bemusement, "It just leaves me to remind you not to interfere with your clothing during the game - I'd so hate to have to apply penalties after all - and that of course you're obliged to see the game through to it's dramatic conclusion." "Looking forward to it." Jane simply said, visualising a defeated nude Kate Houston standing in front of her, pleading for mercy that would not be forthcoming. "Great." the voice reply. "Well, in that case Miss Houston, allow me to wish you good luck on your exciting adventure, and supply you with your very first clue. Of course, should I need to supply you with any more clues during our little outing, I'm afraid they'll come with a cost." Jane didn't say anything to that, and closed her eyes instead as the voice paused for effect. As she sensed the world around begin to close in, she let her mind focus with a laser-like intensity of every word that the voice then began to recount. Her first clue. Her first step towards ending this feud. Her first step towards sending Kate to a fate she most certainly deserved. There was no denying it, Jane thought firmly. This was going to be a night she'd remember for the rest of her life. **** Kate Houston stepped out of the ladies room at the Blue Electric Club and flashed a smile at a couple of men at the nearby bar. The stunning brunette wasn't dressed in her most stylish, teasing or revealing outfit, but even in the simple business attire she'd been given Kate Houston had the ability to turn heads. Her c-cup breasts pushed her smart white blouse out in all the right places, and the way that she held her head up high, complemented with the confident arch of her back, made sure that she made best use of her available assets. Winking briefly at the barman, Kate flipped from flirty to focussed as she stepped out on the street beyond. The ear piece had only moments earlier furnished her with the first clue, and her mind was already working overtime on what it could mean. Two numbers. Her first thought had instantly been that they were GPS coordinates, but they had far too many digits to be GPS coordinates. Kate walked out of the Blue Electric Club, and found herself needing to make a decision on practically no information. Sighing, she turned left on a whim and started to walk, waiting, hoping that inspiration would strike. As she set her well-honed intellect to work on figuring out just what these numbers could mean, some small part of her brain couldn't help but reflect that Jane Barton was out there somewhere too. Trying to solve the same riddle. Trying to embarrass her - a woman clearly Jane's superior in every way. Kate snorted derisively at the thought that Jane could beat her. Still... a tiny traitorous part of Kate nagged... what if she was to get lucky? Kate suddenly found herself seething. Yes, that would be just like Jane to be undeservedly lucky. Rubbing her hands together in determination, Kate fought back against the feelings of resentment that threatened to carry her away, and scrunched her eyes up. Banishing any images of her foe from her mind, she just let the two numbers float in front of her. No. Kate thought. They weren't just 'two long numbers' at all. She squinted in her mind's eye as the digits danced in front of her. Yes, yes, they were a sequence of numbers. One and two digit numbers. Of course! They each represented letters. Kate picked up the pace as she quickly translated the smaller numbers into letters. It was a code, and now she began to spot clusters of letters, forming some kind of name. A name of a place perhaps? A flash of recognition hit Kate all of a sudden. "The Soho Club" she whispered to herself. For the first time in the game, she permitted herself a small smile of triumph. ***** The beautiful tall figure of Kate Houston arrived at the front of the Soho Club, and bypassed the small crowd that was already lining up. There was a popular live band tonight, and it looked like the place would be crowded even this early in the evening. Queues weren't something that Kate Houston bothered herself with though, and she simply flashed a sweet smile at the bouncers. The smile was quickly reciprocated, and space made for her to enter. Leaving behind a trail of protests from the other wannabe patrons, Kate glided into the club, and stood still for a moment to get her bearings. She knew that this was the place where she'd find the second clue, the only problem was that she had no idea where in the club she'd find it. Kate reasoned that the game wouldn't have them just randomly wandering around the club for the rest of the night, until they stumbled on a clue by complete accident. This was a test of their minds and abilities, even if the prize for losing was to expose their bodies. She narrowed her eyes and tried to list the possible options, and finally opted on heading to the bar. Nothing like the direct approach, she thought. Her clothing was far from the most revealing on offer tonight in the Soho Club, and several women had already gone home to change into their man-hunting outfits. Any other woman might have felt slightly out of place sporting only a relatively plain looking business outfit amongst a sea of short dresses and plunging necklines. Kate wasn't most other women though, and her self-confidence in her own beauty radiated out and attracted attention above and beyond what the clothes themselves merited. Making her way to the bar, she waited a few seconds until her favourite barman at the club noticed she'd arrived. "Hey." Kate said, biting her lip as she gave him a look that she knew would get her all the help she needed. "You wouldn't happen to have been given a message for me, would you?" Kate had thought through what skills the game might demand of her for this clue. It had occurred to her that an ability get free drinks from the barman might logically suggest that she had to get the clue from the barman as well. "Hey Kate." the barman replied. "Yeah, I had a message." "Great!" Kate beamed, "if you could just give it to.... wait..." Kate paused for a moment. "... what do you mean you 'had' a message?" she continued, cautiously. Before the barman could reply, a woman's voice piped up behind next to her. Turning slowly, Kate's smile faded as she found the smaller figure of Jane Barton casually leaning against the bar. "What he means," Jane said brightly, "is that he had a message to deliver, and that he's now delivered it." Jane held aloft a card that she'd acquired only minutes earlier. "Good luck for the next clue though." Jane added, with as much insincerity as she could muster. Jane winked at the barman, turned on her heels, and headed back off into the crowd without uttering another word. She even gave a short wave as she left, leaving Kate behind with her anger mounting. It was lucky that Kate wasn't holding a glass, as the pressure from the grip might have shattered the stem. She didn't have to wait long though to be given due cause for her mood to deteriorate even further. Out of her earpiece, she received her first communication since leaving the Blue Electric Club. "Don't worry Miss Houston," the woman at the end of the line said. "I'm happy to supply you with the clue that Miss Barton already has at her fingertips." The voice stopped and Kate waited for the inevitable catch. "There's just the small matter of the cost to first deal with." With a shocked gasp, Kate looked down at her blouse. The moment the voice had finished talking, she'd felt an immediate wet sensation spread out from her bra. In mild horror, Kate could see tiny patches of water start where her nipples were, and then expand to soak most of the top of her white blouse. At the same time, she felt the blouse tighten somehow, as if the stitching was shrinking. The barman's wide-eyed expression caught the attention of those around them, and at least a dozen other people turned in curiosity to see what the fuss was all about. This caused a small ripple effect as they in turn felt their jaws drop, and hastily grabbed others to get a good look at what they were seeing. Prominently displayed at the front of a busy bar, Kate Houston stood seething, as her beautiful breasts were finally framed in a manner befitting their curvaceous glory. The tight, wet, white blouse was now the rival of any other outfit in the room for straight up sex appeal. Kate swore to herself silently. Jane was going to pay for this, and pay big time. **** Jane walked around the Soho Club, holding on tight to her prize. The second clue had made it clear that the third clue was also in the Soho Club, but it meant doing some ground work. The clue had been some information about a patron somewhere here at the club, but she'd have to do plenty of chatting and flirting to find the right man who fitted the right description. She considered unbuttoning her blouse a little, but stopped herself when she remembered that there would be penalties applied for interfering with the outfit. While this probably only applied if she was actually trying to cover up or hide, she didn't want to risk it. She was flirting with her third guy - a tall thirty-something douchebag with far too high an opinion of themselves - when a familiar voice interrupted the music that was currently playing. Jane had been trying to extract herself from the conversation anyway, having just realised that he wasn't her target anyway, and she took the opportunity of the interruption to edge away. She was already trying to spot who her fourth attempt should be when the realisation of whose voice was coming over the speakers hit her like a brick. Turning slowly, she clenched her jaw as she now saw Kate Houston standing up on stage. A pair of lights shone down on her, and accentuated the tight wet blouse she was wearing even more. She'd commandeered a microphone and was calling for silence from the steadily increasing crowd. "Excuse me, excuse me!" Kate called out, waving a hand to attract attention. The lights on her blouse was doing far more to attract attention than her waving though, and it wasn't long before she had the crowd in the palm of her hand. "Sorry everyone. I'm just looking for someone, and decided to just cut to the chase." Kate proceeded to read out the brief description they'd both been given, and then looked out at the expectant crowd. She then placed a hand on the left breast of her wet blouse, and traced a finger slowly up to her lips. "If anyone out there meeting that description has something for me..." Kate paused and pretended to lightly bite her finger, "... then I think I have something for you!" Drowned out by the eruption of excited offers, Jane Barton shared her own thoughts on Kate's performance. "You bitch!" she shouted, as she saw a tall brown-haired man stride up to the stage, producing a piece of paper from his pocket as he approached... **** Pyrmont Bridge was a bustling hive of activity at this time of night. The occasional man on a bicycle rode by Jane as she quickly walked towards the nearest Monorail station. More than once, the cyclists almost came unstuck and ended up over a bench, as their focus switched from what was in front of them, to what was immediately in front of Jane. Specifically, a pair of 32D breasts wrapped tightly in a wet white top. Jane didn't stop to give the cyclists another thought though. She had one destination in mind. The clue had been a collection of numbers that Jane had bounced around in her mind for nearly half an hour, wracking her brain for any sort of guess or insight. "3.6 to go, 8 to stop, 12 to finish. Where water meets the air." Finally, thankfully, something had clicked. The Sydney Monorail. 3.6kms in length, with 8 stations and with a travel time of 12 minutes. That had to be it, Jane thought. The only question was, where exactly on the line would she find the clue? She'd guessed that "where water meets the air" was some vague reference to where the monorail crossed over the harbour, and had instinctively thought of the station near Pyrmont Bridge. She was now only moments away. She chanted the clue over and over again, more to stop herself from thinking about her sopping wet top - and the display she was giving to everyone she passed - than anything else. A train was heading towards the station as she arrived, and Jane hurriedly grabbed a ticket and dashed to the platform as fast as her heels would allow. Thankfully, she wasn't left exposed on the platform for long, and within seconds the train had gracefully come to a stop. A older gentleman standing next was less-than-successful in masking his attempts at checking her out, and when the train doors opened, he nimbly leapt on and turned to face her. He appeared to be hoping that she'd come on board and that he'd end up facing her for the rest of the too-short trip. She was about to step onboard when a sudden thought struck her. Could it not be the case that the clue was actually in this station somewhere? Caught in a quandary, Jane hesitated, and then cursed herself as the doors on the train swung shut again. The last thing she saw was the visibly disappointed face of the man from the platform. The train pulled out, leaving Jane behind, uncertain and unsure as to how to proceed. "Come on Jane!" she urged herself, "pick up your game!" She turned to have a quick reconnoitre around the platform. Unfortunately, she didn't get more than a few steps before she let out a groan. Standing at the other end of the platform, slowly walking towards her, was the self-satisfied smug face of Kate Houston. "What's wrong Jane? Lost your ticket?" Kate asked, mockingly, indicating with a head tilt the train that had just departed. "Well, I'd given you mine." she continued, waving a card in Jane's face that was clearly the next clue, "but I really do need it to get to my next destination." Kate was now standing directly in front of her, and treated Jane to a warm smile. "Don't worry though, I'm sure our friends will give you a new ticket soon." As if a thought had just occurred to her though, Kate raised a hand to her mouth. "I wonder what the next cost will be though?" Kate winked. "Well, I'll leave you to worry about that, Jane." Kate's smile broadened, and she mimicked the small wave that Jane had given her back at the bar after the first clue. "See you later Jane." Kate said, with a flourish. "See _all_ of you later..." And with that, Kate Houston calmly walked out of the station and back on to Pyrmont Bridge. Behind her, Kate could hear a small shriek as Jane's skirt began to do some rather odd things. **** Jane didn't know how they'd managed it, and she didn't greatly care about the technicalities. What she did care about though, was that the hem of her skirt seemed to have taken on a life of it's own. "The hem of your skirt is made of some material that has now been warped." the earpiece had explained in a wholly unnecessary and matter-of-fact manner. The first Jane had known of this was when she felt a small breeze pass gently between her upper thighs, in a way that was both novel and disconcerting. Looking down, she noticed with a sense of impending dread that the front and back of her skirt had somehow lifted themselves up, exposing far more of her than was reasonable. Jane's first reaction had been to defensively push the front of her skirt down again, but as she did, she could feel the back of the skirt completely pull back to reveal the entirety of her bottom. Switching focus, Jane had then yelped and thrown a hand around to pull down the back of her skirt. Tragically, that only resulted in the front of her skirt lifting all the way up, leaving her to inadvertently flash a couple of guys who'd just arrive on the platform. Jane shrieked again as she realised that the guys had an unobstructed view of her white-panties-clad crotch. "I'm afraid," the voice had added, "that you'll only be able to cover either your crotch or your ass at any one point in time. Which one you choose to cover and which one you choose to show to your fellow citizens, well, we'll leave that entirely to you." Jane could feel her face go red as she realised the extent of her latest wardrobe malfunction. It went even redder as her imagination unhelpfully sprang into action. If you think this is bad, her imagination whispered, just think of what future malfunctions might involve. **** Kate hurried along Market Street, trying to ignore the looks that she was getting from nearly everyone she passed. The evening air was still hot, and Kate had half-expected her shirt to have dried by now. Somehow though, the engineers who'd constructed this particular wardrobe malfunction had managed to provide the blouse with a secret supply of water. Quite how was lost on her, but it meant that just enough water was continually fed into the material for it to have still kept a glistening, saturated, clinging-to-her-chest look. Judging by the number of women she'd passed who'd then proceeded to slap their boyfriends, partners, and husbands, she could only assume that her chest was the biggest attraction in town right now. She'd tried to ignore the staring, pointing and gasps at first, but there was a certain futility to that which didn't appeal to Kate. Instead, she now just marched down Market Street and pushed aside the guys who'd seemingly lost the ability to move out of the way when she'd hovered into view. Dress Off Origins: Jane vs Kate She was now up two clues to one, and Kate hadn't bothered to hang around to find out what additional malfunction Jane had just suffered. Since Kate was determined Jane wasn't going to beat her to another clue, it was pointless to worry about what the next malfunction might mean for her. Only one thing mattered. The complete surrender of all of Jane's clothing to the appropriate authorities (Kate, obviously), and the enforced compliance of a fully naked Jane Barton in her own highly public, preferably filmed, exposure. Kate already had a sneaking suspicion where the next clue might be. The number she'd been given sounded vaguely like a client identifier for one of their latest customers. In fact, Kate mused, she was fairly certain she'd been working on their account only last week, and had included a few details in the presentation for the board tonight. An example of where there was potential room to expand - an opportunity to get more clientele, and by extension, a greater presence here in Sydney. All she had to do was make it to the Midcity Shopping Centre. With a determination fuelled by her dislike for Jane, Kate powered on down the street. So focussed was she though, that she never noticed another figure half-jogging half-stumbling along the other side of the street, heading like an arrow in the same direction. Fuelled not just by her dislike of Kate, but also by the very real embarrassment caused by her skirt, Jane Barton sped along the street, side-stepping her way through crowds, and desperately trying to shut out the whistles of appreciation that followed her. Jane had wasted a frantic few moments back at Pyrmont Bridge trying to hold both the front and the back of the skirt down. No matter how she'd tried though, one part of the skirt flew up to reveal part of her panties. Faced with an embarrassment no matter which way she chose, she eventually caved in and pushed down the skirt at the front. It had focussed her mind even further when the earpiece had erupted into life again for a brief sermon on interfering with the outfit. "Any attempt at circumventing our wardrobe malfunctions will unfortunately be penalised. You've been warned, Miss Barton." the earpiece said, ominously. Once she'd accepted the true nature of the predicament she was in, she grudgingly made her choice and now had to live with it. With one hand firmly holding down the front of her skirt at all times, she was currently flashing the back of her panties to anyone who chose to follow her. Considering how hot the wet blouse looked on her, she'd already attracted plenty of attention before she passed people. Once she was past them, and they turned to check her out one last time before she disappeared, they then realised that the show was far from over. More than a few guys actually started jogging down Market Street as well. They kept a respectable distance, but nonetheless stayed close enough to drink in the magnificent sight that was Jane's panties-clad backside. A few whistles erupted from the guys and - much to Jane's shock - a few women too. Realising that the slower she walked, the more time she'd have to spend out here, having her tight ass ogled and objectified, Jane walked as fast as she dared go in stilettos, while dodging through early evening pedestrians. "Come on, come on, come on." Jane whispered, as she was halted in her tracks by the traffic lights at the corner of Market Street and George Street. "Not much further now." she reminded herself, desperately trying to lift her own spirits. The crossing light remained red for what seemed light an hour, as a larger and more vocal crowd began to gather behind Jane. Out of the corner of one eye, Jane also noticed Kate looking to cross the same street. With a mad rush of adrenalin, Jane realised she was on the closer side of Market Street to where the shopping centre was. Kate also hadn't appeared to have noticed her, not yet at least. It hadn't taken Jane long to also work out the clue - and going 1-3 down simply wasn't an option that Jane was willing to entertain. After a maddening few seconds, the lights finally turned in favour of the pedestrians, and Jane hot-footed it across the road. Turning left down George Street, she would have won plaudits on any other day for her fancy footwork, as she deftly wove her way past several small groups and into the air-conditioned shopping precinct within. Sadly, no-one was looking at her feet tonight. **** Kate dashed into the shopping centre, and grabbed the first man who happened to be walking out. "Where's the lingerie store in here?" Kate demanded, before sighing irritably and lifting the man's chin up so that his eyes now looked at her eyes, rather than at her boobs. "Where. Is. The. Lingerie. Store?" Kate repeated again, emphasising each word as if she was speaking to a small child. The man initially seemed lost as to what she was asking, but Kate's expression wasn't one to be trifled with, and the man eventually summoned the wits together to point at a large board to the right of the main thoroughfare. Getting his drift, and realising that somehow a tight, wet, white business blouse somehow lowered the average IQ of every male in the vicinity by 40 points, she grunted and headed over to the board. Thankfully it was a map of the centre, and she quickly poured over it to find the target she after. After a half a minute of urgent scanning, she gave a sigh of relief as she finally realised that the lingerie store was only one floor up, and towards the back. "Right." she said, with a steely determination in her voice. "Time to push Jane to the brink of total public humiliation!" She cast her eyes around, and located a lift that would take her up. Manhandling her way through a waiting crowd, she barged her way in just before the doors closed, and impatiently tapped at the floor selector. Eventually, she was ejected out of the lift and on to the right floor, and took a moment to get her bearings. Then, she saw the sign. The shop's name, written in large letters over a wide entrance, beckoning Kate onwards almost like an oasis in a desert. And standing in the middle of that wide entrance, with a smug expression that Kate just wanted to slap, stood the figure of Jane "Blonde Bimbo" Barton. Kate snarled as she stalked up to the entrance to the lingerie store, and was faced with a beaming Jane holding aloft another clue. "I'm assuming you'd like to know what the next clue is, Miss Houston" the disembodied voice of the game said, with just a hint of amusement. "The game's not finished yet!" Kate warned Jane. In reply, Jane simply walked past Kate and used her new-found confidence to wink at her brunette opponent. Kate seethed to herself for a moment, and then felt the front and back of her skirt partially lift up. Well, that explained why Jane seemed to be fondling her own pussy a few moments ago, Kate thought. Her irritation knowing no bounds, she snatched at the front of her skirt and forced it down, causing the back of her skirt to inevitably ride up and completely reveal her bottom, covered as it was only by the thin, worryingly-fragile material of her panties. "Fine!" Kate said, appearing to those around her to be talking into thin air. "Now, give me the damn clue!" **** It had taken a while, but Jane was finally feeling her hidden reserves of confidence and positivity bubbling to the surface. Walking past Kate, being able to see the expression on her face as she'd realised she'd been beaten, had been exactly the pick-up that Jane had needed after a difficult few periods of the game. She even let out a cheerful hum as she hurried along to the lifts. Not only had she beaten Kate to the last clue, but those precious few moments where she'd been alone at the store, the prized clue in her possession, had given her a vital head start in figuring out where the next clue would be as well. The doors to one of the lifts was closing as she approached, and she deftly leaped forward to hit the down button on the panel. She was rewarded by the doors stopping, and obediently re-opening. With her new good mood currently knowing no bounds, she practically did a pirouette as she entered. No mean feat in a pair of stilettos, she congratulated herself. "Bitch is going down!" Jane said to the world in general, a sparkle glistening in her eyes. "Pardon dear?" a voice suddenly piped up. "I said, 'bitch is going d...'" Jane started, turning to face whoever it was she sharing the lift round down with. She didn't face her sentence though, as Jane came face to face with a pair of old nuns who were looking with shocked expressions at Jane's current outfit. The world froze for a moment, and Jane let her mouth drop open. Bereft of the power of speech, the thought crystallised in her mind that she was exposing her panties to a pair of nuns in a confined space, sporting a blouse that made her look like an escapee from a wet t-shirt contest, and with one hand firmly pressing down on her crotch. "Ahh... I'm sorry!" Jane let out, and before thinking it through, she held up both hands in supplication. Sadly, that only had the effect of allowing her skirt to mischievously choose that point in time to rise up at the front. Jane realised with a yelp that she was now flashing the front of her panties at the two startled old ladies. Jane's hands flew back down, one behind and one in front, and she tried to wrestle the skirt down. It didn't help that - despite her best efforts to ignore it - Jane's backside-flashing run from Pyrmont Bridge had been an arousing experience on some level. With an impeding sense of dread, Jane knew what the moistness she felt in her pussy undoubtedly meant only one thing. That the front of her white panties she'd just shown off looked more than a little damp. The two nuns exchanged shocked looks, and one pointed at Jane's top. "My dear child, why are you walking around in such a wet top. I... I can practically see every part of your bosom!" Jane let out a small nervous laugh, as she tried to think of something to say. Out on the streets, she'd been able to just run on, leave people behind, not have to worry about interacting with her fellow citizens. There had been places to dash in to if anything had gotten to overwhelming. Now though, there was nowhere to go. The lift doors were closed, and Jane belatedly realised that the lift wasn't going anyway. Looking desperately at the control panel, she realised that no-one had yet selected a floor to go to. Flinging one arm across her breasts in a failed attempt to hide the way the clothing clung to her curves, Jane stabbed with her other hand at the control panel, and repeatedly hit the ground floor button. The lift groaned into action. With Jane's face progressively getting redder and redder, she felt the movement of the lift as it slowly meandered down a floor. The ride took ten minutes in Jane-time, as the embarrassed blonde accountant let her hands fly from one part of her body to the next, trying to intercept the disapproving stares of the nuns wherever she thought they might land on her. With a "ping", the lift finally heralded it's arrival at the ground floor. Jane kept facing the nuns, one hand firmly holding down the front of her skirt, as she hastily backed out of the lift before the doors had even fully opened. She felt the rush of fresh air on her bottom as she backed into the ground floor shopping area, and moments later she heard the whistles and coughs of the people waiting for the lift. Realising there must be quite a crowd behind her, Jane quickly dropped a hand to cover the back of her white panties before she'd even thought through the implications. Spinning around, she forced herself to ignore the stares and looks she was being treated to, and fought her way through to the open expanses beyond. Hurrying away, Jane tried to catch her breath as she re-lived that lift ride over and over again in her mind. It may well have spun in her mind for the rest of the game, had the earpiece not chosen that exact moment to burst into life. "Miss Barton." the voice said, with an apparent note of regret. "I'm afraid to say that rules are rules." "What?!" Jane spluttered. "What are you talking about?" "Well, you see, we were quite clear about not interfering with the clothing, or hiding the clothing malfunctions." "I didn't!" Jane shouted, louder than she intended to. "Oh come on! They were nuns, and all I did was use my hands to cover myself for a moment!" The voice at the other end of the line was a woman's voice. Surely she understood what Jane had to do. "I know, I know." the earpiece continued. "But as I said, rules are rules, and you have been warned previously." Jane gulped at what might happen next. "So I'm very sorry to say that I'll have to notify Miss Houston that you've had one penalty point applied to you." "No, wait!" Jane called out, her hands raised in the air to mollify the Gods of Embarrassment. The front of her skirt lifted up again, and Jane just stood there, hoping against hope that all would be well. It was too late though. If it was the case before that Jane's biggest concern with her panties was simply the damp spot in front, they were nothing next to the vibrations she felt start up. Jane groaned. Oh no. The panties had a built-in vibrator. At the same time, Jane also felt a strange sensation around her breasts. She didn't even need to look down to know that somehow, in some bizarre way, the wet bra that were supporting her large, firm breasts, was disintegrating. There was no pain, just a sudden sense of freedom for her boobs as the material seemed to liquify, and absorb itself in the already wet blouse. "Oh, come on!" Jane said, pleading against the unfairness of it all. The vibrations from her panties continued unabated, and Jane forced the front of her skirt down again. This time, she could feel the vibrations in her hand, as her panties went to work on her now extremely sensitive crotch. With double misfortune, the inevitable arousal she felt swell up inside of her also made the nipples rock hard. With no bra to mask their appearance, they now stood out like beacons, poking through her tight wet top and leaving no-one in any doubt as to her current state of mind. Jane groaned again, and began to force herself to walk on. The only small mercy was that she already knew where she was going for the next clue, and that the overwhelming sensations brought on by the vibrator drowned out the reactions of many of those around her. That was only a very small mercy though. He next destination was her own work, and she was beginning to doubt how much longer she could hold out before having a very public orgasm. "Miss Barton." the earpiece said, as Jane shuffled along. "Please don't think of us as cruel and unfair however. If the panties become too much to handle, we will allow you to remove them at no further penalty." Jane almost ripped them off there and then before she realised what that would mean. With a skirt that had to flash either her bottom or her front, having absolutely no panties would mean she wouldn't just be flashing thin white lingerie any more. She'd be flashing skin, and plenty of it. Gritting her teeth, Jane stood up straight, left her panties to do their job and cover her bottom, and soldiered onwards. **** Jane put in a final burst of speed as she approached the corridor to the Mr Glutchman's office. The heels still hampered her, and she constantly ran the risk of spraining an ankle, however caution had well and truly been thrown to the wind as she staggered along. Her tight wet blouse clung to every curve of her upper body, her nipples now obvious through the material as the deceased bra no longer provided any cover. While the water-soaked clothing at least provided some support, she could still feel her boobs bounce up and down alarmingly as she hurried through the hopefully empty building. Her skirt was pushed down in front, in some futile attempt to maintain some dignity should she run into anyone in front of her. Her vibrating panties were now lying on the floor of the lift she'd taken up to this floor. She'd made it to the building, before the impending climax threatened to overwhelm her. Her breath had been rapid and her face flushed as she's stumbled through the doors. She'd half-expected to have to talk her way past a security guard, and was doubtful she'd be able to string together more than a few words without a groan or two sneaking in. Thankfully, the doors had been suspiciously unlocked, and the guard on patrol elsewhere. As an intern and promising future star, she'd thought nothing of walking along the corridors of her firm's premises. Of course, that was back when she had clothing that did it's job properly. Sexy, yet sweet. That was the look she'd prided herself on. In the here and now, her naked backside was completely on display to anyone who might come up behind her. As had been the case for what seemed like forever, the back hem of her skirt had relocated itself as high up as it would go. Jane had finally accepted that reality - there was simply nothing she could do to stop the exposure of her bottom. Already down 3-2, the only thing that mattered was the next clue. It was hard to hear ahead of her over the sound of her own beating heart, but she held on to the thought that she'd not seen Kate since the last clue, and perhaps her bitch of an opponent had royally screwed up and was currently heading in the wrong direction. "Come on Jane!" she muttered, willing herself to keep going. Mr Glutchman's office was now only metres away, and there was no sign of Kate bolting down the corridor in either direction to cut her off. A wild smile erupted over Jane's face as she realised she was only seconds away from levelling the scores, mere moments from being only one more clue away from an actual, honest-to-goodness victory. Snatching at the door handle, Kate let out a cry of joy as she found it would open without a key, and triumphantly threw the door wide open. The cry of joy lasted all of a second. A single, solitary second. One second of wild abandon, before Jane's eyes lit upon the relaxed figure reclining in Mr Glutchman's chair, behind his desk. For an instant of time, Jane thought to throw her arms around her, to cover up so that Mr Glutchman wouldn't see her like this. Only it wasn't Mr Glutchman at the desk. It was Kate. Kate Houston. Her opponent and - as the earpiece suddenly sprung to life to confirm - the ultimate, final, indisputable winner of Dress Off. Jane's cry of joy died on her lips, and her mouth hung open as she tried to take in the enormity of the scene she was witnessing. Kate, a huge smirk on her face, was casually waving a slip of paper in the air. "Apparently." Kate said, with an almost friendly demeanour, "They thought they needed to leave another clue in case you evened up the scores." "Sadly." the earpiece said, "That won't be necessary tonight. Miss Barton, I think you're now well aware of what Miss Houston's possession of that paper means." Jane didn't react to either of what Kate or the earpiece said, and just stood there. Defeated. Wet. Missing anything resembling underwear and with a skirt that refused to cover her ass. Jane's hands dropped to her side, and she closed her eyes tightly. She thought for a moment of running. Just turning around and getting the hell out of here before anything else bad happened. Even before she could decide on merits of that plan though, she sensed something odd start to course through her stockings. Looking down, almost in a detached fashion, shock well and truly settling in, she realised that the stockings did have a role to play in this game after all. She experimentally tried to bend her knee, but the stocking went half way up her thigh. Total defeat was now achieved, as it dawned on her that the stockings had - in the space of a few seconds - somehow acquired a rigidness that had been completely missing before. She couldn't flex her knees at all, such was the new-found strength of the strange material. Dress Off Origins: Jane vs Kate To compound matters further - if that was faintly possible - her shoes were no longer merely irritating because of the heels. Now they added to their sins by also becoming strongly attached to either other. A few moments of struggle in the door frame to Mr Glutchman's office, with an eager Kate watching on in glee, revealed the awful truth. Jane Barton wasn't going anyway. Her feet were effectively locked together, she couldn't bend her knees, and she'd never be able to hop away in stilettos. The final insult was only made once the futility of Jane's situation had struck home. With one last ceremonial pop, the button and zip on her skirt self-destructed into a small poof of smoke. A skirt that had already only been covering half of her bottom, now gracefully slid down her legs, and settled around her feet. Agonisingly, she was powerless to resist as Kate slowly stood up from behind the desk, and sauntered casually over to where Jane was trapped. Running a finger over Jane's cheek, Kate suddenly looked puzzled. "I thought." She said, to the voice in the earpiece. "That you promised us total embarrassment and humiliation for the loser." "Yes." the earpiece replied. "Yes, we did. However, you've played the game yourself now. You know what it's like to experience your own wardrobe malfunctions. You've earned the right to make a decision. You can show mercy on Jane now, safe in the knowledge that she's been thoroughly shamed, and unlikely to show her face around these parts again. Or..." the voice said, trailing off for a few seconds. "... you can position Miss Barton on a turn table that I believe you'll find in the corner of your assigned meeting room. The fate of her blouse is, of course, entirely up to you." Kate smiled at that last comment, and leaned in to whisper in Jane's ear. "Be right back, sweetheart." Jane groaned as Kate disappeared, and the seconds seemed like hours as she just stood there, unable to make any significant dent on the distance to the lifts and her possible freedom. After what seemed like an eternity though, Jane heard footsteps approaching, along with the sound of wheels travelling over the carpet. She had to suppress a laugh at the absurdity of the situation, when the realised that she was actually hoping that the footsteps were Kate's! Fancy that, she thought madly to herself. Fancy _wanting_ to see Kate. "Hey girlfriend." It was Kate's voice alright. She'd brought equipment. Unable to put up a serious fight, other than to protest at the indignity of it all, Jane found herself being lifted onto low trolley that Kate had found. Jane waved her arms at Kate to try and block any attempt at moving her, but Kate merely laughed. "And do you know what else I found when I went looking for the turn table and this trolley?" she asked, with a giggle. Kate didn't wait for Jane to reply. Instead, she grabbed her opponent's hands, and deftly handcuffed them behind her back. "Nice!" Kate said, approvingly, as she stepped in front of the trolley and surveyed her work. "I've always said that you'd look good in the right suit. It was always just a case of finding the right accessories." With that, and in one swift movement, Kate leaned forward and tore the wet blouse wide open. Tugging at it happily, and with several ripping motions, Kate finally deprived Jane of her top, and left the woman standing on the trolley naked, restrained, and completely at her mercy. Kate winked at Jane, as she casually ran a hand lightly over each Jane's huge breasts. "You know Jane. Some models have catwalks to show off their outfits. We don't have a catwalk unfortunately, but you'll be happy to know that your birthday suit won't go unappreciated. We've got about twenty minutes to the start of the video hookup in Europe, and wouldn't you know it? There's a turn table in the meeting room!" Smiling evilly. Kate began to push the trolley and her latest acquisition down the corridor. **** With the faintest of "sweesh" noises, the large screen at the end of the meeting room went from sleeping to wide-awake. Where previously there had only been a black screensaver with the company logo moving slowly around, there was now a window onto Europe. Half a world away the company board was filing into their own meeting room, bringing in drinks from lunch and sinking into their chairs with the idle chatter of the rich and powerful. At first, none of them seemed to pay much attention to the video link to Sydney. Certainly none of them noticed the mortified, naked woman standing rigid on a turn table that was gently rotating around. None yet witnessed the woman's desperate attempts to reach her handcuffed hands from behind her back to cover anything at all. After several moments of panicked effort, her heart sank even further as she realised she'd have to settle with partly covering her naked backside when she inevitably flashed it to the camera on one of her many rotations. It was as she was facing the door to the meeting room, with her back to the camera, that she heard the first gasp of astonishment come over the speakers. The turn table continued it's endless journey, and she helplessly felt herself rotating back around towards the camera as it sunk in that she'd finally been discovered. She initially turned her head away, in the mad hope that if the executives in Europe couldn't see her face, then somehow this would all blow over. On the third rotation though, as the excited comments and swearing began to fill the room, Jane couldn't help but look up, and saw the faces of a dozen men pressed up against the screen so many thousands of miles away. All of them gawking. All of them staring at her naked breasts, her exposed pussy, and her flawless, perfect, yet entirely nude body. For a moment, this spurred another attempt at breaking the handcuffs, but it was all in vain, and she suffered the indignity of hearing several of the executives demand to know if this was being recorded, as she rotated back around to show them her derriere. If that was as bad as Jane thought it would get tonight though, her world collapsed even further as the door to her own meeting room swung open. The senior partner made about three steps into the room before he came to a sudden stop, and as Jane looked at him for a fleeting second, she could see his mouth hang open and his eyes nearly pop out. Looking immediately down, she couldn't help but also notice that his eyes weren't the only part of him that was suddenly bulging. Behind him, with a look of mock horror on her face, but with a faint trace of malicious satisfaction showing through, stood Kate Houston, dressed in a perfectly sensible, dry, well-behaved business outfit. "Jane!" Kate exclaimed, seemingly in shock herself. "What are you doing?!" The senior partner was having a slight problem with breathing as Jane slowly spun around on the turn table one more time, and found herself back facing the leering European men. She saw stern looks of disapproval from several of them, near fainting from a few others, and undeniable lust from the rest. To compound matters, she could feel her nipples get even harder, and her pussy begin to moisten again, as the overwhelming sexual tension began to get the better of her once more. Finally, the senior partner was able to find his voice. "Jane! Jane, I... ahh... I demand you get down from there... immediately!" he ordered, barely concealing the disappointment of having to end this. "I can't!" Jane pleaded. "Kate has trapped me!" Kate snorted. "Really?! You're blaming this one me?!" "Look!" Jane exclaimed. "I can't move or cover myself up, see?" She tried to demonstrate that her legs were locked rigidly by the stockings and shoes, and that her hands were firmly secured by the handcuffs behind her. So it was with great surprise, and much cursing at the wretched timing of everything, that Jane suddenly felt the handcuffs give way, her hands fly free, and the stockings and shoes relinquish control over her lower body. "Damn it!" Jane shrieked. Covering up as best she could, one arm firmly pressed against her magnificent 32D breasts, the other clamped firmly between her legs, Jane hopped down and sprinted out the room. As the door slammed shut behind her, Kate walked over to a table and made a show of trying to steady herself. "Sirs. I think we can all agree that Miss Barton's behaviour tonight has been astonishingly unprofessional, completely unacceptable, and bordering on the disturbed." Looking up at the screen, Kate continued with a tone of forced calm. "Gentlemen. I'd like to apologise on behalf of the Sydney office for my colleague's..." she stopped to correct herself, "... my _ex-colleague's_ behaviour." Kate hesitated, and then looked hopefully at the board members. "If... if you'll please indulge us for just a few minutes more... I feel like, perhaps, _I_ could still present my work, and show you the best of what Sydney really has to offer..." Kate smiled, a sense of victory sweeping over her as the mass of confused, aroused, angry and disappointed board members argued and grumbled amongst themselves. Looking over at the senior partner, who had collapsed into his seat and was still trying to process the events of the past few minutes, she earnestly added. "Don't worry sir. I think all my hard work over these past few weeks will still save the day..." **** Jessica Beacham sat in her apartment staring blankly at the television as a yet another reality show droned away. The show wasn't coming even vaguely close to soothing the feeling of emptiness that she hadn't been able to shake since arriving. Irritably, she finally snapped and roughly thrust a finger at the remote, muting the television and leaving her with just the images and colours dancing in front of her. It had been... a strange five weeks. She blinked at that thought, as the sounds of another early autumn night in Brisbane wafted in from the open window of her third floor apartment. Jessica was new to the city. Jessica gave a short humourless laugh at that last thought. "Jessica" was new to a lot of things, the city of Brisbane being almost the least of all the changes that she'd recently undergone. A knock on the door interrupted her train of thought, and she let whoever it was knock a second time before finally hauling herself off the couch to go and see who it was. Opening the door a crack, Jessica recoiled slightly as the familiar face of Tess Trueheart came into view. "T... Tess?" Jessica said, confusion rife in her voice. "What... what are you doing here?" "Hello Jessica." Tess said evenly. "Can I come in?" Tess didn't wait for Jessica to answer, and gently pushed the door open and away from an unprotesting Jessica's hand. "We need to talk." Tess said, walking into the room. Before Jessica could react and close the door, a second woman appeared from the corridor outside. Marching in behind Tess, matching her companion stride for stride and and with an authoritative yet-not-unkind smile gracing her features, came a tall red-headed woman and followed by a .... red-head. Jessica looked between Tess and the second woman with her mouth open, wondering exactly what was going on. Her two visitors sat down on the couch, sufficiently far apart that Jessica could choose to sit between them if she chose. Tess even patted the empty seat encouragingly as she smiled back at her surprised host. "How?" Jessica finally managed, after a few seconds of opening and closing her mouth to no discernible effect. "How did you find me? I thought the only people that knew where I was now were those bitches from Decider Enterprises!" The red-head looked briefly at Tess before coughing, and giving Jessica a small, almost apologetic smile. "Yeah..." she said. "Yeah, about that." That voice! Jessica recognised it immediately, and that recognition hit her like a punch to the stomach. It was the voice she'd heard all through Sydney that night, and on the laptop back in the days nearly a lifetime ago, when Jane Barton had held a job, had friends and a future in the city. "You!" Jessica said, pointing her finger firstly at Sonya, and then accusingly gesturing at Tess as well. "You're... well, both of you... you're Decider Enterprises!" Tess nodded her head briefly and with a strange look on her face, acknowledging the charge that Jessica had laid at them. "Yes." Tess said simply. "Yes we are. But before you kick us out..." Tess paused and looked meaningfully at Sonya, who then finished Tess' sentence for her. "... we have a certain proposition for Ms Jessica Beacham that we simply couldn't make to Ms Jane Barton." Jessica's face flushed red as she realised that these two women must know everything about how she'd been exposed, stripped and displayed back in her old life. "I was humiliated!" was all that Jessica could manage. "And you went into that game knowing what the consequences would be." Sonya replied, evenly. "Besides." Tess added. "We're here now not to re-live old embarrassments, but to offer new opportunities." Sonya stood up and beckoned Jessica to join them on the couch. "We need some women. Confident, strong, intelligent women. Women who have been through what I hope was the most embarrassing time of their life, and who nevertheless came out stronger for it." "Stronger?!" Jessica retorted. "I had to leave the city I grew up in, and leave my friends and my old job behind! I had to change my name!" "*We* had to change your name." Tess pointed out. "We're the ones who created a new life for you." "And we did it," Sonya joined in, "because we think you're the kind of person who has more greatness in them than they ever would have realised in their old life." Jessica was unable to suppress a snort and short laugh at that last remark. Sonya looked down at her feet briefly, before raising her head again and coolly making friendly-but-firm eye contact with Jessica. "I understand you hate us at the moment for what we did." Sonya glanced at Tess just as she said this, and flashed back to their game together so many years ago. "But here you are. We've been watching you these past weeks. We've seen you pick yourself up, get out there in the sun again, and - I'll be honest - we recognise ourselves in you. Except you did it all by yourself." Pausing again, Sonya's flickered back to Tess one more time. "We at least had the advantage of having each other." Tess now stood up and held out a hand to Jessica. In Tess' hand was an old business card that Jessica - no, that "Jane Barton" - had printed when she'd started her internship, back when her imagination was firing with a thousand different pathways to power and success."So once you've had a chance to say goodbye to the constraints of being Jane Barton..." Tess smoothly flipped over the business card to show that there was now print on both sides. The reverse side, unlike the busy and cluttered original design, simply showed the minimalistic Decider Enterprises logo, with her new name emblazoned above it. "Once you've had a chance to say hello to the opportunities of being Jessica Beacham..." Tess flickered the card at Jessica, who caught it more by reflex than by any great intent. "We'd love to add one more sexy, smart & strong-willed blonde to our little team." Silently, and with her jaw still clenched with righteous indignation, Jessica looked down and stared at the business card. Suddenly, unbidden and with a force that almost made her physically step back, Jessica was shocked to find her imagination was firing again. Only this time her imagination wasn't showing Jane Barton at a cubicle in front of a computer writing some high-level report, or signing up high profile clients with a fake smile, or delivering her millionth powerpoint presentation while standing in front of a mob of powerful yet indistinguishable old men in suits. This time, her imagination was showing Jessica Beacham on a beach trailing a shifty looking man with a suspicious brief case, jumping out of an aeroplane and parachuting on to the roof of a high rise tower block, and masquerading as all manner of strange women at high profile parties. Jessica closed her fist into a ball, and fixed both Tess and Sonya with what she hoped would still come across as an angry glare. "Don't think for a minute that what I'm about to ask means I've in any way forgiven either of you, or even remotely interested in what you're proposing..." she said, her voice trying to maintain a hard edge to it, "but, umm... what... what exactly _are_ you proposing?" Sonya gave Tess a small, almost imperceptible wink, and Tess breathed in deeply. "Well Sonya, where do you think we should start?" Tess asked her partner. "I always liked the part about bitch-slapping Harrington until she crawled back under the rock she came from." Sonya said, seemingly after a few moments of consideration. Jessica held up a hand to silence them both. With just the faintest trace of curiosity now seeping through cracks in her angry facade, like a small trickle heralding the imminent bursting of a dam, she looked first at Tess and then Sonya. "Wait." she said. "Who?" ********* [Agents Tess Trueheart, Sonya Foxwell and Jessica Beacham will return in "Dress Off: Olivia vs Abby"]