A photo shoot

The producers checked their watches, stressing.

While it was amusing to see Emma, shivering, nude and frightened, hiding in a toilet stall, she was showing no sign of moving, and they did have a schedule to follow. The two Prank'd team members had been positioned in the bathroom with the idea of forcing Emma to walk past them, but no one on the production staff thought that she would be so shy of her nudity that she would hide from them indefinitely.

A message was passed to Leylah, who slipped out of the booth and made her way into the bathroom.

One way or another, they'd **** Emma to expose herself to more humiliation...

xxx

"Emma? You OK? You've been here a long time."

Emma slapped a hand across her mouth to muffle her gasp.

"Wait, there's someone else in here? Who's been spying on us?"

To Emma's horror, there was a banging on her cubicle door.

"Hey, you in there? Come out here, why have you been listening in on a private conversation?!"

Emma squirmed, looking around hopelessly for a solution. Uncurling herself, she placed her bare feet on the cool floor, stifling a gasp as she unwound a length of toilet paper.

The Brit liberally wrapped it around her chest and her crotch; it was hardly a suitable substitute for clothing, but it was better than nothing.

Taking a deep breath (an action that nearly tore her coverings), Emma unlocked the cubicle door and stepped out into the bathroom, where she was greeted by a grinning Leylah, and two bewildered strangers.

Clutching her wrappings, Emma turned towards the door, but any hope she had of escaping unrecognised was immediately dashed.

"Emma Raducanu?"

"No!" Emma squeaked.

"Don't be modest, Emma!" Leylah exclaimed, blocking her path.

"Yes, of course it is!" the other woman nodded. "Goodness knows I've seen you in enough adverts to know what you look like naked; but you're even cuter in person! Can I take a selfie with you?"

"Umm, no, thanks-"

But Leylah was already pulling her across to the mirror, and the two women were squeezing on either side.

"Let's get rid of those," one of them said, pulling apart her wrappings.

Emma's skin crawled as the stranger's fingers brushed against her chest and crotch, repulsed by the violation of her personal space.

But she didn't have any chance to voice her complaints, as the trio proceeded to poke, squeeze and prod her.

"It's adorable how shy she is!"

"She's probably even hotter than if she was a proper exhibitionist!"

As they snapped photo after photo, Emma was reminded of her humiliating brand deals: driving a porsche naked, the leather cool against her skin while her bare feet scrabbled at the pedals; wearing various Nike shoes, but nothing else; drinking so much Evian water she nearly wet herself; trying out Dior perfumes and showing off the first class features of British Airways whilst wearing her birthday suit; completing a banking transaction at HSBC while in the nude.

Eventually, the impromptu photo shoot was finished, and after a final slap of her buttocks, the two women allowed Emma to slink back to her booth.

The Brit collapsed into her seat, hugging herself tightly and crying, craving a long, hot shower to wash away the sensation of foreign hands invading her skin.

"Cheer up, Emma," Leylah said, resuming her seat opposite and nonchalantly sucking a fresh drink through a straw, unconcerned by the nude girl's strife.

Emma's night was far from over, and Leylah couldn't wait to unleash the next prank.