In the locker room

Jemma carried on her nude dash down the corridors, trying to keep the thought from her mind that a place like this was full of security cameras. She kept her hands firmly clasped to her most sensitive areas, and hoped for the best. The alert that had been triggered was silenced, but there seemed to be more agents in the corridors for her to avoid.

Suddenly, she brought herself to a halt, so quickly she almost tumbled to the floor. A door was to her left, and her brain had quickly read the sign next to it- "Locker room AM". Praising her miraculous sudden turn of luck, Jemma went inside. She remembered one of her colleagues had said her bag would be brought here, which meant she could get not just clothes, but specifically her clothes.

Inside, Jemma found row upon row of lockers, stacked three tall. She walked down the first row, and saw each one was numbered, and had a keypad and a small thumbprint scanner on it. Not knowing which number she might have been given, she touched a button on one at random. "Cooper, J" appeared on the screen. She touched the next, and the screen on that read "Darling, C". Jemma quickly went to the first locker, and when she touched that one the screen lit up with "Anderson, A"

"Alphabetical order." Jemma said to herself, nodding. She went to about halfway across the room, touched a keypad to find this locker belonged to "Grant, F". She skipped a row, and finally went to the last locker, which belonged to "Morse, B".

Jemma cursed herself for her stupidity- this locker room wasn't given AM as some sort of designation, it contained lockers A to M. And hers, being Simmons, would be in a different room.

Jemma went to the door, but before she could open it a group of male agents walked in, talking among themselves. Jemma darted away before she could be noticed, hiding in one of the rows.

She saw the agents split up and head towards different rows, and was relieved that by pure chance none of them came to hers.

"Hey, who are you?"

Unless, of course, they walked down one row with a buddy, then turned at the end of the room and came back towards her, with an uninterrupted view of her naked butt.

Jemma squealed in shock, clasping both hands over her rear end and turning for the door. She dashed from her hiding place, and found her squealing had attracted some of the others, who were now in front of her, which she was not covering. Her firm and well-sized breasts were pointed directly at them, her pink nipples starting to rise and harden. Her privates, brunette pubic hair in a neat strip, were also completely revealed. At least they would be unable to identify her later, as none of them were looking at Jemma's face, which was burning red with humiliation.

Jemma moved her hands over her body, trying to cover all of her at once and completely failing, before running into the corridor.

Before the agents came out of the door behind her Jemma had already gone into the next room, Locker Room NZ.

After a few minutes of looking down the rows of this new room, Jemma located locker "Simmons, J". She scanned her thumb and a green light lit up, so she pulled at the door. It was still locked. She pulled a few more times, increasingly hard, before noticing new writing on the display. "Enter PIN".

"What PIN?!" Jemma exclaimed, bashing the locker with her hand in frustration.

"You new to this?" a female voice called from the next row. Jemma carefully eased around the top of the aisle, leaning just her head around to hide her nudity. An attractive dark-skinned female agent was there, closing up her locker.

"Er, yes, very new." Simmons replied.

"Check your email, there'll be your PIN number for your locker, it's also the number you need to get food in the mess."

"Right, thanks. My... My computer terminal is back in my lab. Is there any other way I can get it?"

"Why, some reason you can't go to your lab?"

"Oh, no..." Simmons blushed, checking again that her nudity was hidden, "No reason. Thanks."

The agent closed her locker, then looked down at the floor, where a towel lay crumpled in a heap.

"Why can't people learn to clear up after themselves?" she sighed, picking it up.

"Oh, let me deal with that." Jemma said, stretching out an arm.

"I'm just going to chuck it in the laundry chute."

"Please, let me."

If the woman was surprised that Jemma's extended arm had no sleeve on it, she was more surprised at the young woman's apparent enthusiasm for helping tidy up. She handed her the towel.

"See you around."

"Yes, see you."

As the woman left, Jemma wrapped the towel around herself. At least it was dry, and it just about covered her, although it was a bit daring in some areas- to tie even a small knot at the top left a slit up her leg to her hip, and having it low enough to cover her privates and butt left a large amount of cleavage at the top, but considering what she had been through recently to Jemma it felt like an ornate ballgown.

She went to the door of the room and, as she was accustomed to doing by now, scanned carefully for anyone nearby.

"Right, now what?"