Her skirt tears

Nora stirred the 'potion,' aka the soup. She still found all of this pretentious; a fire to warm it, stir it to keep the flavours mixing, and then when it was done head down to serve it. And pray her dress didn't get far too loose again, she had enough people trying to get a look down her top.

One of the other staff members gestured to signal that their soup dispenser proper was beginning to get low. Doing her best to put on a fake smile, Nora used a less than period accurate canister to scoop up some of her 'potion.' Despite all the efforts made towards 'realism,' modern day practicalities took hold in situations like this. Like the soup kettle over there.

She sighed, and moved around the cauldron, holding her toureen aloft. She was maybe halfway down the long table before she tripped.

Shit, she really hated this skirt; her foot caught in the hem. She just about regained her balance, not spilling the soup-

And heard a tear. She took a tentative step forwards... and felt the back of her skirt start to slip, flapping away. Eyes wide, she glanced back over her shoulder.

The tear was from hem to waist, one long line ruining the material and then starting to curve, beginning to go around her side. After just one step a vast curtain of the material folded to the side, giving an easy view up her legs, and of her now-bare ass.

The fact her panties had gone missing didn't cross her mind. Flushing again, Nora twisted her body, trying to keep her ass facing the tent wall. She quickened her step, passing the toureen to the staff member manning the soup kettle, then quickly took a step back.

Nervously she reached behind herself, tried to hold her dress in position. Biting her lip Nora ran the short distance back to her cauldron, pointedly turning to face the crowd. Even if she couldn't meet their eyes, at least no one had a good view of her from behind.

Flustered, she stirred one-handed, the other holding her dress up.

Ok. Problem over. She could just finish her shift, then quickly change dress. Easy. She did prefer her darker, witchier get-up truth be told.

Nora was unaware of the tear's progress, slowly sneaking around her waist. Dream-rules and the slight, insistent pressure of her hand holding it up encouraged it, a tiny glimpse of skin under the otherwise layered garment.

Until it finished its journey. Then, all at once, her skirt fell away; the only part anywhere close to her skin was the spot to the side she had her hand on. The rest blew away, as if by some stray gust.

Eyes wide, Nora yelped, blushing furiously; she struggled to pull the skirt closer, hyperaware of the fact that the cameraphone-happy crowd suddenly had a clear view of her pussy. Whimpering, she struggled with the sheet of fabric that made up her skirt, turning to better struggle with it.

Her cheeks warmed, well aware of the side-view she was giving. It took far too long to pull the skirt closer, wrapping it one more around her waist, needing to hold it together with both hands. Rather unsurprisingly, her tits took that moment to slip out past her neckline again.

Bright red, Nora did her best to adjust her dress, still trying to keep her skirt up.