Jenn helps Claire, and pays for it

Jenn spun around and skidded to a stop beside Claire.

“Oh my god! Are you okay?”

Claire didn’t lift her face from the gym floor. “Leave me. I can't face anyone like this!”

“Here I'll help!” Jenn crouched and tried to position herself like a human privacy shield, which was difficult considering she was also nearly naked. Her thong didn't provide much coverage, and when she squated down, the thin piece of fabric didn't do much to contain her most private areas. Still, she spread her stance wide and puffed her arms out like a deranged mother goose trying to protect her nest.

“Okay. On three,” Jenn said. “We’re getting you up.”

“I have nothing left to lose,” Claire groaned.

“That’s the spirit.”

Jenn hooked her hands under Claire’s arms and yanked her upright. Claire wobbled, using Jenn as cover.

Unfortunately, in all the scrambling and repositioning, Jenn didn’t realize her own underwear had caught on the same cursed cycling machine pedal.

One step forward and her thong snapped off like a rubber band in slow motion, sailing through the air before landing directly on top of a kettlebell like it was claiming territory.

Jenn froze.

Claire and Jenn looked down and their naked bottom halves. Both bare and exposed pussies stared back at them. In front of the two was a crowd shielding their mouths from laughter. Behind them, a crowd pulled out their phones and began recording their naked asses, exposed to the world.

Claire, now regaining consciousness through sheer humiliation, muttered, “We’re like action heroes. Except instead of cool sunglasses we’re just… missing pants.”

“Exactly,” Jenn said, gripping Claire’s wrist with the grim determination of someone who’d seen the end of their rope and kept going anyway. “No more accidents. No more snagging. We walk. Straight line. Eyes forward. No looking at reflective surfaces.”

They started again, two grown women, completely bare-bottomed, shuffling across the gym floor like escaped test subjects.