Not well

Legs bare, Yaz ran with increasing desperation after the fleeing garment. Ok, just get them back, rush back to her friends, easy. She could get it over with. Hopefully.

Still, she couldn't help but squeal at the feeling of the air rushing against her legs, the cool against her inner thighs. And the fact her panties felt like they were twitching too, which-

Oh god. No. Don't even think about that.

Maybe the amount of plastic in each of her garments was different, Yaz reflected. Whatever 'fabric' made them couldn't be pure plastic. Whatever this Nestene was, however it controlled plastic, it didn't seem to control everything the same amount.

She stumbled to the top of a hill-

And then immediately crouched back down again. People!

Wait, no. She peered over; not people. Mannequins. Or something like them, mass produced human facsimiles, and she had a sneaking suspicion they were all plastic. All neatly ordered and lined up; it put her in mind of nothing more so than an army.

And, almost comically, her trousers joined one of the lines. Rather than slinking along the ground, now they stood up straight as though she was still wearing them.

Ok. Great. Now she couldn't catch up to them without exposing herself to a whole army of those... things.

She didn't know if they were dangerous, not that she wanted to risk it, but even if they weren't she didn't exactly fancy rushing past them wearing what she was. Her cheeks warmed at just the thought.

Maybe she should head back. Panties was better than.... She gulped. If there was no way around it maybe she should just rush back to the TARDIS and a change of clothes, this world didn't exactly seem the best place to be, especially not-

There was another explosion. It was more distant, on the far side of the plastic army, but it was definitely an explosion this time rather than something just crashing into the hillside. Yaz pressed herself closer to the ground, squeaking as her top again struggled against her.

The mannequins all turned as one, pointing one hand forwards, and they marched towards the bang. Her trousers went with them.

Oh. Ok. Her clothes were going off to war; she almost gave a mad laugh. Of course that would happen, why wouldn't it?

Nervously, Yaz backed away. Definitely better to leave. She turned-

And her top strained again, struggling to pull itself up over her head. She yelped, mouth covered for a moment, before she managed to restrain it.

Being in her panties was bad enough, but she wasn't going to start going around this planet in just her underwear! Especially - oh god - especially if she had to meet her friends again.

She continued backing away from the site of the army, the sound of shots just reaching her ears. She definitely wanted to get out of this place.

And then her shirt turned itself inside out, lower hem pushing itself up over her head and baring her bra, while she struggled to keep the rest down with her arms. Yaz yelped, still unable to believe she was wrestling with her own clothes.

She squeaked as one sleeve pushed itself over her arm. When that was done though, it had leverage; it effortlessly pulled itself over her other arm.

Leaving Yasmin standing in nothing but her pale underwear and shoes, desperately grabbing onto her shirt as it tried to get away. Her cheeks burned.

"Not you too, oh no," she muttered, hoping she could cling on.

This couldn't be happening.

And, inevitably, her shirt slipped out from her grasp. It landed on the ground, and started to pull itself along with surprising speed.

This time she didn't chase, knowing where it was going. Apparently the Nestene was recruiting whatever plastic it could get into its army.

Yaz lingered where she was for a few seconds, standing still, half still in shock. She was in her underwear. She was on an alien planet and wearing nothing but her bra and panties, and shoes. A whimper escaped her lips.