Not unscathed

Mackenzie continued her report, trying to keep her suit jacket as closed as possible. She was all too aware that her soaked white blouse didn't lend much to the imagination anymore. But that was no easy task with the strong winds constantly buffeting the jacket. Nevertheless, the redhead endured the gales and made it through her followup report.

"And with that, I'll hand it back to you guys in the stu-"

Mackenzie was interrupted by a particularly strong burst of wind that wrenched the jacket from her grip. The billowy garment acted like a sail and the **** of the wind yanked the garment away from Mackenzie's back. Her arms were pulled behind her back as the jacket was ripped off her arms, which had the side effect of thrusting Mackenzie's chest forward. By now, her soaked blouse was nearly transparent, and thanks to the strong winds, it was pressed firmly up to Mackenzie's chest. Her red bra could be seen clear as day, and the camera captured the exact shape of each breast.

The jacket was swiftly carried off in the wind, certainly lost. Mackenzie crossed her arms in front of her chest in an attempt to at least partially keep her chest hidden from view.

"Back to you!" she shouted, though she had dropped the microphone when her jacket was whisked away from her.

Pete gave the signal and the camera's red light went dark.

"They really weren't kidding about how dangerous it is out here!" he shouted, detaching the camera from the tripod. "Now let's get the hell outta here!"

"Fine by me." Mackenzie muttered, not happy with having basically shown off her underwear on live TV.

"Wait, where's your mic?" Pete asked as he began taking down the tripod.

"I dropped it earlier..." Mackenzie trailed off.

"Well you better find it, Macky! Those things are freakin expensive!" Pete began moving the equipment back into the van. "I'll pack everything else up but you go find that microphone. The boss will have our heads if we come back missing company property!"

Still bracing against the powerful winds, Mackenzie began scanning the ground for any sign of the mic.

"Can't believe this..." she muttered to herself. "First my jacket, now the mic. This coverage had better be worth it..."

It was then that Mackenzie caught a glimpse of a familiar shade of red. There by a bench, was the microphone sporting Channel 6's signature shade of crimson.

Mackenzie sighed with relief as she walked up to it. But as she knelt down to pick it up, she was suddenly struck from behind by another piece of flying debris. Mackenzie was sent sprawling onto the wooden bench.

"Ow, ow, ow!" she murmured as she picked herself back up, slightly bruised but mostly unharmed. However, the same couldn't be said for Mackenzie's attire. The abrasive wood had torn several buttons off the bottom of the beauty's blouse and had even formed a sizable tear in the waistband of her skirt.

Mackenzie grumbled a few more obscenities as she picked up the microphone before heading back to the van. The bottom half of her shirt, now unfastenable, billowed up in the winds, exposing her pale midriff to the storm. Mackenzie kept one hand in front of her visible chest and tried in vain to keep her shirt down with the other. Unbeknownst to the redhead, her skirt had slid a fraction of an inch down her hips, threatening to soon expose her matching red panties.

"Got the mic!" Mackenzie shouted over the noise of the storm as she approached Pete. Pete paid her no attention, holding a phone to one ear and covering the other with his hand.

"Okay, you got it!" he shouted before hanging up the phone. "Bad news, Macky. The storm's changing course, and they want us to do one more broadcast letting everyone know."

"You've gotta be kidding!" she replied. "It's getting crazy out here!"

"You're telling me!" Pete agreed, taking a moment to admire Mackenzie's bared stomach while he unpacked the equipment from the van again.

"Do we have any extra jackets or blankets in here?" Mackenzie asked as she peered into the van. She climbed in and began looking for some additional form of cover she might have been able to use.

"Uh... don't think so." Pete replied. "Better be quick, Macky. They want us on the air in two minutes!"

**** for anything to hold in front of her transparent shirt, Mackenzie grabbed the biggest object she could find: a black collapsible umbrella. It was far too windy to use the device for its intended purpose, but it was just big enough to shield most of Mackenzie's bra-clad breasts from view. Mackenzie figured she'd rather have her stomach seen by the viewers than the outline of her breasts! Then, she hustled over to the same position as Pete finished setting up the camera again.

"Okay, last broadcast!" Pete shouted before counting down from five.

Mackenzie took a deep breath and readied herself for live television yet again. The tear in her skirt widened, letting the fabric slip down another fraction of an inch, which revealed a thin line of red peeking out from underneath. With a gritted smile, Mackenzie began her broadcast.

"We are still live on scene here! As you can see, we've suffered a few clothing casualties while in these incredibly dangerous conditions. But we don't let a few minor wardrobe malfunctions keep us from getting you the news you need! Now for the most recently updated information on the storm's trajectory."