There are no clothes inside

Valerie opened the bag and searched through its contents. There were a few tools, some wire and the equipment she had requested for the exercise, but there wasn't a single item of clothing. "This can't be," she exclaimed, and turned to Steven. "Are you sure there isn't anything else for me?"

Steven found it hard to take his eyes off her naked body, but he reluctantly checked his computer. "Nope, this is it," he confirmed. "I don't see any clothing in the list of things assigned to you."

Valerie couldn't believe it. It seemed like today was a day where everything was going wrong. Would she have to walk naked all the way to the proving grounds? How many people would see her like this? She had to try and find something to wear, no matter what.

"Steven, please. Can I borrow some clothes? I have an important exercise at the proving grounds. My career is at stake," she pleaded to Steven.

"Valerie, I'm really sorry. Chief sent a memo today forbidding me to give you anything that's not explicitly listed in your consignment. It's to prevent giving you an unfair advantage over your competition," Steven replied apologetically.

"But it's only some clothes. I'll take anything - a T-shirt, shorts, anything at all." Valerie couldn't believe she had resorted to begging, but **** times called for **** measures.

"Trust me, I would help you if I could, but I'll lose my job if I do," he replied. He paused in thought, and a dejected Valerie began to turn away and leave.

"Unless..." he suddenly said, making Valerie stop in her tracks. "I can't give you clothes - but I can paint them on you."

"W-what do you mean?" Valerie asked nervously. Paint them? Steven, though, didn't reply, instead disappearing into the back. Valerie heard him rummaging around the shelves for a few minutes, then he finally returned with a paintbrush and a handful of tubes of camouflage paint.

"Stand here," he said. "Arms wide, legs apart."

Valerie was ****, for doing so would mean giving up on covering herself. However, temporary embarrassment in front of one person was preferable to being humiliated in front of hundreds. She did as he asked, dropping her arms from their protective positions and baring it all for him to see. Steven got to work, and from his face (and pants), she could tell that he appreciated the view.

He squeezed out a generous blob of dark green paint from one of the tubes onto his hand, then began meticulously applying it to her chest using the brush. She shivered when the strands of the brush touched her erect nipples, but thankfully Steven was a consummate professional. He didn't tease or torment her, instead simply applying paint all over her boobs in the shape of a bikini top. He finished by drawing faint lines on her back and over her shoulders to give the appearance of straps.

"Not bad," he said, stepping back and admiring his work. "Now, for the bottom."

Valerie turned red. She had been wet since that episode in the elevator, and all this simulation from the paintbrush had only made it worse. As Steven crouched, his nose inches away from her pussy, she knew there would be no hiding her arousal. He started by making a line around her waist with the same green paint. He then proceeded to paint her ass cheeks one at a time, causing goosebumps to form on her skin.

"I hope you don't mind me saying this," he said. "But you have a very fine derrière. It's an honor to paint you."

Valerie blushed at the compliment. "Thanks," she replied, as he continued his work. He painted all of her behind, then turned his attention to the front. He filled in her lower stomach, until finally it was time to paint between her legs.

"I'll try my best. Though I'm afraid the paint might not stay on long," he winked at her.

Valerie wished the ground would swallow her whole. He had seen how wet between the legs she was. She closed her eyes and let him paint, whimpering whenever the brush came into contact with the delicate folds of skin between her legs. He took his time, enjoying his work while her body quivered with every stroke of his brush.

"There you are," he said triumphantly. Valerie was slightly disappointed that it had ended this soon. She opened her eyes and saw herself in the mirror that he was holding up. He had painted her a bikini top and booty shorts. It wouldn't stand up to scrutiny on close inspection, but from a few feet, it looked remarkably like real clothing.

"Thanks for that," she smiled, meaning both for the paint and for how sensually he had applied it.

"You're welcome. Though I must say - try not to sweat too much," he advised. "It's supposed to last twelve hours, but sweat makes it fade away much quicker."

Valerie nodded in acknowledgement. She strapped on the utility belt and slung the backpack on her shoulders before leaving for the proving grounds.

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