Saved by the driver

Panicked by the position she found herself in, Stephanie splayed one dainty hand on the standing man's abs to try to push herself off him, and the other hand blindly reached behind herself to unhook the panties from her heeled footwear. She felt a hard torso beneath his shirt and worried how she would get away from these men safely. She didn't have to worry long as a loud voice pierced the tense situation. "What's going on back there?" Bellowed the bus driver, who had watched the event unfold through his rearview mirror. His concern was piqued when the group he recognized boarded his bus and trapped the female passenger. He could only glance occasionally while driving, but when he saw the standing man begin to remove his pants and the woman struggling on her knees, he spoke up. The male passengers turned to look at the interruption, while Stephanie took the opportunity to fix her wardrobe. She finally felt the fabric release her shoes and her feet fell to the floor. She stood, grabbing her dropped and momentarily forgotten purchases, and pushed passed the men as they tried to explain the situation. She offered the driver a brusk "thank you" as she hurried off the vehicle. She'd rather walk the rest of the trip than deal with another embarrassing second trapped there. Had she turned back at all, she'd have noticed the final leers of the receding passengers as her skirt continued to flutter obscenely in the still air.

By the time she reached the front gates of her family's estate, Stephanie was a blushed, panting wreck. Her hair was messy and plastered to her forehead, and her arms hung heavily under the weight of her many purchases. She aggressively punched in the security code to enter the front yard and begin the final leg of her journey up the driveway. The heavy doors of the mansion banged open in the high vaulted foyer. Stephanie didn't bother closing them. One of the many house staff certainly heard her entrance and knew to follow behind as she stormed her way up the stairs to her room. As she entered her private quarters, she finally relaxed her tense shoulders, drained from the embarrassing events of her commute. "Ok Stephanie," she asked herself, "what the hell was that about?" She cringed at how clumsy she had been, first with the geek she gave a lap dance to and then with the pig she accidentally offered a blowjob. "And what was up with my clothes?" She continued, tossing her purchases onto a chaise near the closet. They would be sorted and put away later by someone else. She flopped backwards onto her bed, taking the weight off her aching feet as she removed her undoubtedly worn out heels. From here, she thought back on the last hour. She recalled the peculiarity of her underwear, somehow loose enough to catch her heels as she was falling and tight enough to not release them when she tried to stand. She remembered how her skirt somehow defied gravity and how her heels seemed to tug her legs around, but she had another thought before she could dwell on that. "God, this all happened after I bumped that old lady. I think she just got me psyched out or something." Stephanie decided.

She recalled how the old crone had caused her purchases to spill, and her confusion turned to anger. She'd need to get one of the help to clean them for her before she could wear them. Happy to find a reason to throw a tantrum, the bratty girl stormed back towards her bags, ready to scream for service from whichever poor soul was closest. She blindly reached into a random bag, grasping a chunk of soiled fabric to brandish at the servant that would take the verbal ****. "SOMEONE GET IN HE-!" her tyraid began, but it ended abruptly when she saw what she pulled out. A tight, white tube top, thin enough to show the bra that would accompany it, or lack thereof. It was surprisingly still immaculate, lacking both stains and even wrinkles. She tossed it onto the bed blindly while reaching into another bag, assuming that the shirt just happened to not fall out before. There were few other articles of clothing they could claim that fact, she recalled. Ready for take two of her tantrum, she held the next pulled piece above her head as a maid humbly entered the bedroom, head hanging low in preparation for a screaming session.

"What's the matter, Miss Dean?" Diane asked her boss's daughter, prepared for a frivolous complaint she couldn't possibly resolve for the young lady. When an immediate screech didn't cut her off, she lifted her head and peered at the stunned girl. She was currently holding a pair of shorts over her head and staring dumbly at it, her brow furrowed in confusion. The pair looked exactly like one of the dozens of other leg-displaying pairs the girl already owned, only fresher from lack of use. Stephanie turned it over in her hands multiple times, as if expecting to find something. Her mouth gaped a few more times before the maid spoke up to repeat her question. This time it received a response.

"My...my clothes." Stephanie exclaimed, brandishing the short shorts towards the maid and staring expectantly. Diane's gaze darted from clothing to its holder, unsure of the desired response. It wasn't uncommon for Stephanie to create issues merely to watch the staff struggle to solve them, but this was usually revealed by the conniving twinkle in the young lady's eye. It was absent at the moment, which almost concerned Diane even more.

"They look...lovely?" Diane offered, assuming this must be Stephanie fishing for compliments, despite also considering her humble opinion worthless. Stephanie's burning stare let her know she gave the wrong answer.

"Obviously." Stephanie retorted, slamming the shorts back into the bag they came from and collecting them in her arms, storming into her massive closet. After a few moments of solitude, Diane took her cue to return to her important duties, happy to have received a comparatively lenient chewing out than usual. She'd have quite the gossip for the rest of the staff today.