Agree to take her to the clinic

"Yeah, sure," you tell her, getting up from the couch. You figure that the best thing to do is act like you are just as ignorant to what's going on as she is, and if you had no idea why your friend was continuously sweating like this, you would definitely agree to drive her to a clinic. Besides, it'll be more fun to take the Ruby on the road and see what you can do with it in a more public setting.

"Oh thank you!" Erica says, grabbing her keys as she follows you to the door, "I owe you big time for this."

"Yeah, a proper game night," you tease her. You wait for her to lock up, then you both head down to the parking lot to your car.

As you are driving to the clinic, you see Erica turn up the air conditioning, apparently thinking it might help with her sweating. She shivers as the cold air hits her, and crosses her arms over her stomach, pushing her chest up. This ends up highlighting just how wet her shirt is now and, more importantly, how much thinner it's getting. Before it was completely opaque, but now you can see the outline of her bra underneath it. You're guessing that her shirt isn't going to last much longer at this rate.

And when you arrive at the clinic, you end up being proven right, as when Erica is stepping out of the car, there is a snap, and the front of her shirt tears open as her sweat-soaked bra falls right off the chest, hitting the pavement with a wet plop. You don't see her chest from your seat, but you do see that like in her apartment, the back of her shirt has several large holes where her sweat had started eating through it.

Erica shrieks and covers her chest. She starts reaching down to pick her bra up, but stops when she hears a ripping sound. You see that her jeans, which up until now had been holding up better than her shirt, were starting to split down the seat. Erica shoots back up and feels the tear in her pants.

"What the hell?" she says, lookig over her shoulder and doing her best to fix the rip while still protecting her modesty, "Dylan, can you grab my bra? My pants are splitting."

"I can see that," you say, causing Erica's face to grow red, "But yeah, just a sec."

You get out of the car and move around to Erica's side. You bend down and pick up the bra. Holding it in your hand, you swear you could feel the cups getting thinner, though it might have just been a trick of the mind. What wasn't a trick though was that the straps were already half-gone, having practically disintegrated from constant contact with Erica's body.

"You need to buy better bras," you tell her, "These straps are worn as hell."

"That's not possible," she said, grabbing the bra from you to look for herself, "This bra is brand new. I bought it last week, and paid a heck of a lot for it."

"How much?" you ask her.

"None of your business," she says with a sharp glare, clutching the bra over her chest, "Besides, my shirt shouldn't have torn that easily either. I don't know what's going on, but my clothes are literally falling apart."

"We better hurry inside then," you say to her. She nods, and the two of you make your way inside.

The waiting room has several people already in it, and as you walk in several people look over at you and Erica. Well, mostly Erica. An older lady just shakes her head at the sight of her, and a younger man with ice over his eye whispers something to the guy next to him. Another girl around your age gives Erica a sympathetic look before going back to filling out an intake form.

Erica seems to shrink at all of the eyes on her, and presses into your back to help hide her exposed chest. Making your way to the front desk, you ring the bell and the receptionist, a brunette middle aged woman, looks you over and asks, "Do you have an appointment?"

"Um, no," Erica says nervously over your shoulder, "But I... um, I need to see a doctor right away... I, um... I've been sweating for... over an hour and a half now, and I don't know why."

Oh wow, has it really been that long? You're starting to think that her clothing-eating sweat was working its magic a little too slowly. Not that it wasn't entertaining to watch Erica's clothes slowly fall apart, but at this rate it would take forever for her to be rendered practically naked.

The receptionist grabs a clipboard with an intake form on it and slides it over, "Fill this out and bring it back here, please."

Erica looks over at you, and you grab it for her. The two of you make your way to an empty chair, and you notice that the receptionists eyes are now following Erica as well.

Sitting down next to her, you hand the form and pen to her to fill out. Erica looks at it hesitantly, but bends over the table in front of you, using her right hand to write while her left continues to hold her deteriorating shirt and bra to her chest. While she does so, you focus on her and say, The longer you have been sweating since last being naked and dry, the faster your sweat eats through clothing, up to five times faster than the current rate at three hours.

The change isn't instantaneous, but even as she writes you notice that her shirt is slowly disintegrating off of her, and the remains of the bra straps between her fingers are getting shorter and shorter. By the time she finishes the form, her shirt is over half gone, and you notice that she's having a tough time keeping the cups of her bra from falling apart from one another, the piece of fabric connecting them nearly gone.

"This is ridiculous," Erica mutters to herself. She stands up, and almost immediately her pants start falling down. She gasps and reflexively reaches down to grab them, which causes her to lose her grip on her bra, causing one of the cups to drop down and expose her breast to the entire waiting room. The injured guy from earlier whistles, and Erica drops the clipboard to fix what's left of her bra, doing her best to cover herself again. You see that the reason her pants fell down was that the tear in the back from earlier had grown down the whole seat of her pants, revealing her pert ass to you. You assume that her panties have been completely destroyed by now, leaving nothing behind.

"Dylan, help!" Erica hisses to you, jerking her head towards the clipboard on the floor.

"Right," you say, bending over and grabbing it for her. The two of you make your way to the front desk again, Erica once more using you to shield her indecency, though since her backside was now being exposed as well the tactic was less effective than before.

The receptionist takes the clipboard from you and looks the form over, "Alright, everything seems to be in order. The doctor will see you soon." Peering over your shoulder at Erica, she asks, "Do you want me to see if I can find something for you to cover yourself with in the meantime, ma'am? I notice you're having... issues with your clothing."

"Please," Erica replies in a low voice.

"Alright, sit down and I'll see what I can do," she says.

You go back to your seat, shortly followed by Erica. Looking her over, you notice that holes have started to appear in the knees of her jeans as well, and even her shoes were now looking rather ratty. It isn't long before the receptionist returns with a medical gown for Erica.

"Thank you," Erica says to her. As she takes it, she looks to you and asks, "Can you stand in front of me and..."

"Block your goods from sight?" you ask, causing her to blush again, No problem."

You stand in front of her, doing your best not to look behind you. After several seconds, Erica says, "Okay, done," and you sit back down.

Erica is now covered only in the hospital gown up top, which was the only dry part of her now thanks to how wet her body was. The remaining shreds of her shirt were either stuck to her skin underneath it or between her fingers, where she held the two bra cups, now entirely separated from one another.

"Look at this, Dylan," Erica whispers, handing one to you, "They're paper-thin. I can probably..."

She gently pushes a finger into the cup she's holding, and after only a bit of resistance her finger tears right through it.

"What the hell?" she whispers to herself, completely dumbfounded. Feeling the cup she handed you in your hand, you can see why: the fabric feels only slightly stronger than tissue paper now.

"Do you think... do you think it's the sweat?" she asks you, "I mean, I've been going over it in my head, and I can't think of anything else that could be doing this to my clothes."

"I dunno," you lie, "If it is, that'd be really weird. I've never heard of sweat doing that to clothing before."

"Yeah, me neither," she says with a frown, "I hope the doctor can see me soon. Hopefully they can figure out what's going on."

"Do you want me in there with you?" you ask, "For moral support, I mean."

"I... I don't know," Erica replies, adjusting the thin and now wet gown, attempting to keep it from clinging to her body so tightly, "I'll let you know when the doctor comes out. I just hope this gown doesn't fall apart too in the meantime."

"Yeah, me too," you say. You look around the waiting room, and clutch the ruby amulet around your neck. You could just sit here and wait for the doctor to show up... or you can have some fun with your new power while you wait.