You strip.

“Last chance,” the fat, balding Cop in front of you says as if he hadn’t heard the wolf whistle from behind the mirror.

You nod shakily as you turn your back as fully to the mirror as you can. This is awful. You feel as if you’re trapped in one of those nightmares where you’re naked in the front of a classroom. Except it isn’t a nightmare, this whole situation is very, very real.

Your fingers move numbly as you reach for the buckle to your skirt. You fumble with the buckle a few times before your fingers remember how to undress you. Once unclasped, you hold the skirt in place for a few wonderful seconds before you squeeze your eyes shut and let the piece of cloth fall to the floor. That’s it; you’re completely naked except for your panties. The cool air causes goose-bumps to rise all along your soft skin. As gracefully as you can manage, you kneel down and grab the skirt and quickly dump it in with your blouse. You feel your face flush with embarrassment as several hoots and whistles come from behind the mirror this time.

Using your arms to cover as much of your full chest as you can, you look up into the Cop’s face for some indication of where you should get replacement ‘uniform.’ Instead, he merely glares back at you as if waiting for something. Your underwear too? Really?! You **** back as sob as your hands drop away from your breasts again, exposing your nipples to the cool air and his revolting gaze. Gently you loop your fingers under the waistband of your panties as the cheering behind you intensifies.

“Careful, you’ll hit the camera,” warns one muffled voice and your cheeks burn even redder than before.

You take a deep breath as a tiny flush of anger moves through you for the first time. You may be helpless and totally at their mercy, but you aren’t going to give them a show. As quickly as you can you lean down and strip the panties off before you quickly stand up straight again. You move to toss the last piece of garment into the mesh sack with the rest but the Cop’s hand is just a bit faster. He easily snatches the panties from your hand and holds them to his face, taking a big wiff.

“Nice,” he grunts as you stares deep into your eyes. Finally he stuffs your panties into his pocket and turns away. He opens the door behind him and steps through, passing the sack of your clothes off to somebody you can’t see and retrieving some hideous orange fabric. “Here,” he grunts again as he tosses the orange clothing to you and then exits the room. You’re alone. Just you, your new orange jumpsuit, and all of your hidden admirers behind the glass.

Eager to cover as much of your body as you can you quickly unfold the orange clothing in your hand. It’s a jumpsuit: one piece, orange with various stains spattered in various places, and a… a butt-flap? You didn’t think that clothing really had stuff like a butt-flap outside of old cartoons. Doesn’t matter now, it’s clothing and you’re eager to have anything between you and these strangers’ eyes.

Quickly you slide each of your slender legs into the legs of the jumpsuit and pull it up over your hips. You realize how small it is as you slide your arms in. The rough material hugs your curves, leaving little about your body to the imagination. You fight and tug to get the jumpsuit reasonably comfortable and then you reach to zipper yourself up. It’s then that you discover another problem: the zipper slides up easily, concealing your pussy and your trimmed bush and on up past your tummy only to suddenly jam right at your breasts. You pull and pull but it’s no good. The tight uniform has squeezed your tits together, giving you an impressive line of cleavage and the zipper refuses to zip any further to cover it. You look like you’re getting ready to film a porno.

With a sigh of disappointment, you turn and knock on the door. You’re as ready as you’re going to get…