(Originally published by Ewong at writing.com. Republished with the original author's permission.)
You feel so **** that you are willing to trust your new enemy. You call out to her.
"Hey, there you are! You left before without your things." Stacy says just outside the stall.
She pushes your books and notebook under the door. A slight wave of relief comes as a large piece of blue fabric is thrown over the door.
"i thought you may need some cover after our presentation. I've been wondering if I would ever be able to strip a gullible girl in class, and my prayers were answered today. You looked so adorable standing there with your ass pointed at me, all nervous. I have been carrying this dress around for when I finally find someone to strip. Well, you might as well try it on. It's not like you have a choice." Stacy says.
You grab the the dress and look at it. It's a simple strapless dress that looks like it will cover you just fine. You take off your glasses and set them o the back of the toilet so they wont get lost. You then pull your t-shirt over your head and leave it on the floor. Stepping into the dress, you feel it's soft cotton hugging every curve of your body.
You can hardly see without your glasses, so when the dress is in place, you have to feel for the hem. Your hands reach it right above your knees, which is just right to you. Turning around, you stumble towards the toilet and feel for your glasses. You think you've found them when you feel something move past your leg. You run your hands over yourself to make sure you're still dressed.
Knowing you are still fully clothed, you pick up your glasses and put them on. You see that the dress leaves little to the imagination as it hugs every inch of your skin. Your bra is clearly visible underneath, and its straps make it even more conspicuous. You feel a bit self-conscious of your body, but it really doesn't look that bad. Any boy who sees you in this dress will look at you approvingly.
You tentatively step out of the stall and see Stacy holding your shirt.
"That dress looks great on you. Too bad your bra looks so frumpy with it. I think you will look so much hotter without it!" Stacy smiles as she runs behind you and with spot-on accuracy, unclasps your bra.
Stacy then pulls on one of the straps, trying to remove it. You try to hold onto the last remnant of your original clothes, but the ensuing struggle knocks your glasses off your face.
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