Even more naked nightmares

Henrietta Cockelthorpe, 1891, sprinted through the cold, rainy streets of London. It was a dim autumn evening, the fog coiling beneath the streetlamps, hansom cabs trotting through the gloom. Though the cool air prickled her skin, she was grateful for the uninviting weather. At least it reduced the chance that someone might see her.

A shadowy figure, clad in a greatcoat, loomed at her out of the darkness. A maniacal chuckle.

"I'll be taking these, my love!"

Crooked fingers hooked into the neck of her shift. With a dreadful ripping sound, the garment was torn from her body, leaving Henrietta to tremble on the cobblestones in nothing but her patent-leather boots, her silken drawers and wide-brimmed plumed hat. The laughter echoed through the dusk-haunted alleyways of the East End, finding a cruel amusement in her plight.

"Just one more scrap to go, Henrietta, my dear, and then I'm afraid I'll have nothing left to steal! And we shall see what other pranks I can play! Ha-ha!"

Henrietta gasped and clutched her hands to her heavy breasts, feeling her wide round nipples stiffen as droplets of icy rain trickled down her cleavage. Muffled voices in the fog alerted her to the fact that she was about to be caught, and by respectable-sounding people, at that. It couldn't be allowed!

Hastily, she ducked into a nearby alley. She wanted a safe place to hide, but she had no idea where to go in all the labyrinth of streets, and every lighted window she came to seemed to have a whole brace of potential oglers just beyond it. She scampered from shadow to shadow, clasping her breasts, jumping at every sound as the rain soaked into her knickers, until the chuckle came again.

"Scared, my little sugar-plum? Feeling the chill in your panty-bits? Let me help!"

"No! Oh, you fiend!"