Yes

Leaving the locker room was like throwing myself into a void without a parachute. The cool campus air hit my face, but it did nothing to cool the searing heat rising up my neck and burning my cheeks.

"Walk fast and don't look at anyone," Clara whispered at my side, trying to act as a human shield, though her effort was completely useless against the disaster of my appearance.

The distance between the department building and my dorm had never seemed so endless. Every step was a psychological torture. Since Clara’s skirt was a size too small for me, the plaid fabric rode up a little higher on my thighs with every stride, forcing me to take short, tense, and clumsy steps. But the truly catastrophic part was the blouse. Without the support of a bra, the swaying of my large breasts was free, heavy, and notoriously evident beneath the thin white cotton. I felt the direct, rough, and constant friction of the taut fabric against my rigid nipples; a stimulus so intense and bold that it made me gasp through my teeth, keeping me in a state of involuntary, sinful, and deeply embarrassing arousal in the middle of the street.

Soon, Clara's worst suspicions were confirmed. The campus was already beginning to fill with students heading to their first morning classes.

"Did you see that?" I heard a clear whisper to my right.

A group of engineering guys stopped halfway down the stairs of the main building. Their gazes instantly locked onto my chest with a predatory fixity. I didn't blame them: Clara's blouse was so stretched over my curves that the space between the second and third buttons gaped open nearly two centimeters, revealing the roundness of my bare cleavage and my skin still damp from the shower. Worse still, the harsh morning light pierced through the translucent fabric, exposing the dark, sharp silhouette of my erect nipples.

I lowered my head, letting my damp violet hair cover my eyes and the lenses of my glasses, but that only drew more attention. I felt the eyes of dozens of people tracing my anatomy, undressing me with their stares, devouring the fact that the shy and reserved girl from the department was walking outside without underwear, trapped in someone else's uniform that seemed to scream "look at me." A couple of girls chuckled quietly as they passed me, noticing how the skirt clung so tightly to my buttocks that the outline of the wet thong was perfectly traced, showing the string digging into my skin.

By the time I reached the door of my residential building, my pulse was pounding hard in my ears. I took the stairs two at a time, fleeing from the curious glances in the hallways, until I finally entered my room and threw the bolt.

I leaned against the wood of the door, exhaling a heavy breath I didn't know I was holding. I was finally safe.

Without losing a second, I began to unbutton Clara’s blouse with hands clumsy and trembling from the adrenaline; in my haste, a button popped off forcefully and jingled on the floor, but I didn't care. I shed the oppressive skirt that was suffocating my hips and, finally, slid down the damp pink thong, which had left a red, burning mark on my skin due to how tight it was. I stood completely naked under the warm light of my room, feeling my body finally relax and the constant tingling in my breasts begin to fade.

I went straight to my own closet. Seeing my usual clothes— my sweatshirts three sizes too big, my baggy jeans, and my thick cotton sports bras—brought my soul back into my body. I dressed in a hurry, burying my curves beneath the layers of fabric I always used as armor against the world. I dried my violet hair with my own towel, fluffing it so it fell over my face, and adjusted my glasses snugly.

I looked at myself in my room's full-length mirror. The provocative, helpless, and exposed girl from the locker room and the campus had completely disappeared; I was back to being the invisible, gray student I always was. Or at least, that’s how it appeared on the outside. Because on the inside, the memory of the burning stares from strangers and the friction of the wet string kept burning my skin, turning my normal routine into a complete lie. Someone had my clothes, someone knew my secret, and the day was only just beginning.