Try to dry the skirt with the hand dryer.

Anna stared in disbelief at her soaked skirt, the toilet water weighing it down, making it cling and drip in her trembling hands. Her socks were already damp at the toes, and her black Mary Janes squeaked with every anxious shift of her weight. She couldn’t see her underwear in the toilet bowl anymore—her panties were gone, sucked away, leaving her with just her blouse, bra, socks, and shoes. From the belly down, she was totally bare, feeling the open air on her crotch and ass, the thin hem of her blouse just barely skimming the top of her hips.

She moved quickly to the sinks, wringing the skirt out with both hands, water trickling over her fingers, splattering down on her socks and shoes. Every shift sent a chill up the inside of her thighs and across her bare bottom. She felt horribly exposed, the **** gap between her legs catching every breeze, her backside completely on display if anyone should walk in. Her blouse was starting to stick to her bra and chest, the outline of her nipples showing right through.

The door crashed open. Four older girls stomped into the bathroom, their voices harsh, their laughter bouncing off the tiles. Anna whipped around in panic, clutching the soaked skirt, but it barely covered her groin. Her ass and everything between her legs were still in full view behind her. In a wild rush for privacy, she darted for the closest stall—her socks slipping in the puddle, shoes squealing on the tile.

She never made it. Anna’s foot slid out from under her and she went down hard, chest and belly smacking the wet floor. Her legs splayed wide, bare butt and pussy flashing right at the new arrivals. Her skirt flew from her grip and landed out of reach, still out in the open. Anna’s entire lower half—bare ass, slit, and all—was on full display, nothing but white socks and shiny black shoes to frame her nakedness. Her blouse bunched up around her waist, riding high on her back and shoulders, her bra nearly see-through from the water soaking through the thin fabric. The cold tile pressed against her skin, making her acutely aware of every inch on show.

The girls howled. Their phones were out in an instant, cameras pointed, zooming in on Anna’s exposed backside, her bare cunt, and the tight little pucker of her asshole. Their laughter was loud and cruel, echoing through the stalls. Anna’s face flamed as she scrambled onto her knees, arms flailing to cover her pussy and ass, her chest heaving, nipples poking out through her bra and blouse. Her socks and shoes slid on the flooded floor. She tried to crawl for her skirt, but one of the girls kicked it further away, laughing harder.

“Look at her!” one girl jeered, her phone pointed right between Anna’s spread thighs. “You really let it all hang out, huh?”

Another whistled, “Nice view from back here, babe. Not hiding much, are you?”

Anna staggered upright, too panicked to think, clutching her hands over her crotch as she stumbled backwards into a stall. She slammed the door and twisted the lock, huddling in the corner, legs pressed tight together, arms jammed between her thighs to hide her pussy and ass crack. Her skirt was still lying on the floor outside, surrounded by the girls’ shoes, out of reach and useless.

Outside, the girls taunted her, knocking on the stall door. “What are you doing in there, naked girl? Why’s the floor all wet—was your pussy leaking too?” They burst out laughing.

Anna cringed, pulling her knees up, her feet squishing inside her wet socks and shoes, the blouse and bra stuck tight to her chest, nipples stiff and visible through the fabric. She could hear shuffling outside—one of the girls was crouching, pushing her phone under the partition to catch a shot of Anna’s bare crotch from below. Anna shrank back, pressing herself against the corner, butt planted on the cold tile, nothing but her hands to cover her slit and asshole.

Suddenly, her heel kicked the toilet handle. Water flushed again, rushing under the door and soaking her socks even more. The girls squealed and jerked their phones away, laughter echoing off the tiles.

“It’s a long story!” Anna managed, voice cracking as she huddled smaller in the corner, every inch of her bare ass and pussy tingling with shame, skirt still lying outside, and all hope of modesty gone.

“Just throw out your clothes, we’ll dry ’em for you!” came the next taunt, cruel and mocking.

Anna stayed pressed in the corner, burning with humiliation, completely exposed but for her bra, blouse, socks, and shoes—her skirt now just a damp, useless heap beyond her reach.