It wasn't a prop

Julie was about a third of the way through her shift. She had just finished office 204A and had two more to go. A facilitator made three trips through each office. Two with coffee and one with sandwiches and sodas. The middle one always took longer as it was lunchtime, and everyone wanted to talk. Or the guys couldn’t make up their mind between ham and turkey, just so they could take longer to ogle her chest. She didn’t mind. None of them were her type anyway. She was supposed to finish a run of three before taking a break, but today she just felt weird. She popped into the women’s and left her cart in the hall. As she was passing the mirror she thought “What the hell?” and backed up. “Holy Crap! What happened?” It was like all her clothes had changed, but not changed. Her skirt had been down to just above her knees, now it was a mini. Her Bolero, where was her bolero? What the hell happened to her bolero? All she had under it was a sweater vest, and that had shrunk. Or her boobs had gotten bigger. Or both. Her boobs were huge! And where’s my bra? And the sweater was skintight and perfectly formed to their new shape and size. It was one thing to be tight, but now it went all the way into her cleavage. It was like it had two pockets shaped just like her breasts. She pulled her top up to look at her breasts, or she tried to. Didn’t happen. She couldn’t get a finger under her top. She tried the neckline, same thing. It was like her sweater was glued on! Well, she’d just have to go out to her car and get something to cover up with. What was going on? Her breasts were on full display! It was like the sweater was tighter at the base of her breasts. She tried plucking at her cleavage to pull the sweater out, but it was just as solidly glued to her breastbone.

She tried to pull her skirt down to keep some kind of modesty. And found the same thing. The skirt wouldn’t pull down. She could pull it up to use the restroom and such, but couldn’t lower the hem by even a fraction of an inch. And couldn’t take it off. And no panties? Her bra and her panties were both gone? Had she passed out? This didn’t make any sense.

“Hey Julie!” Oh shit, it was her friend Sheri from the odd numbers. “I know we’re not supposed to take a break right now, but I really have to go.” As she ducked past Julie to one of the stalls. “I like your lipstick” she said from behind the stall door. “It matches your sweater.”

She had seen me and all she noticed was the lipstick?

“Not sure what it’s called. I picked it up a while ago, ‘cause it matches.”

Sheri finished her business and flushed. She came up to Julie at the mirror. “Are those new shoes?” she asked

“Yeah, the shoes. Just got them last week. You don’t think they’re too slutty, do you?”

“What are they four inches? I think five is starting to get slutty, but even then, no one notices us anyway. I wore five once, no one said boo. I think you could go out there naked and no one would notice, unless the coffee was cold!” She turned and headed for the door. “See you at lunch.” And she was gone.

Actually, she had been wearing flats. Now she was in four-inch heels. And of course, they wouldn’t come off either.

“OK reality check here. My boobs are now huge, my clothes all got changed, my clothes are now attached, my underwear is gone, and no one notices? Am I dreaming? Maybe that’s it. One of those dreams that some people have where they are naked at work. And then they wake up, and everything is normal. That must be it. OK, I’m dreaming that I’m at work practically naked. Well, I guess I better get back to work, so I can wake up sooner.” With that she walked back out the door to her cart.