Flees

Without wasting another second of time, Amy turned and scrambled off the bus. She had to push past the people trying to board the bus, but she made it off without flashing her breasts any further. Now Amy was in a **** run towards home, keeping both hands securely on her breasts. The slackened bra became unclasped and fell away from Amy's hips. But Amy didn't stop to retrieve it. The garment was too broken to be of help to her now anyway.

The topless woman was about halfway back to her house when she felt the weird sensation again, this time by her right hip. Sure enough, a moment later there was another loud SNIP sound and Amy saw a strip of pale skin emerge from beneath the denim skirt. The ghost had cut right through the skirt and thong along Amy's right hip! The skirt immediately fell down Amy's legs and she had to stop running to avoid tripping over it.

Amy froze in place as she realized she was once again completely naked! She scrambled to pick up the torn skirt, which she could still hold in front of herself as cover. The torn thong was useless, but the ripped tank top might still be of use!

Amy resumed her sprint towards home, clutching her skirt in front of her breasts and holding her balled up tank top in front of her pussy.

She drew plenty of stares and shouts along the way, but made it into her building without any further issues. Amy opted to take the stairs this time before running down her thankfully deserted hallway and ducking into her apartment. Amy immediately slammed the door shut behind her and let her improvised forms of cover drop to the floor.

That settled it for Amy. She knew now that these weren't coincidences. Some of the things that had befallen her up until now could have been explained away as bad luck. Being seen naked in your bedroom? Bad luck. Falling out of your clothes right when two teenagers happen by? Very bad luck. Having your dress completely fall apart even as you're wearing it? Monumentally bad luck, sure. But still bad luck.

But no amount of bad luck could just make your top explode off your body. Or make mysterious clothing donations on your behalf. Or open your curtains every time you were undressed. Amy was now certain that she was being plagued by something. Some unseen **** or being.

"What..." she heaved, trying to catch her breath, "the hell... are you...?"

There was no response from the ghost. After a few minutes Amy slowly walked into her bedroom. The curtains were, of course, open. Lying on the bed was that same old skimpy party dress.