Her clothes are soiled and taken.

Just as Emma was trying to focus on the massage and ignore her growing discomfort, disaster struck. Rachel, in her enthusiasm to blend different oils and lotions, lost her grip on the bottles, sending a cascade of liquids tumbling onto the counter where Emma's neatly folded clothes lay.

The bottles shattered, releasing a flood of slippery substances all over Emma's clothes. Rachel gasped in horror, quickly grabbing a handful of towels to stem the tide. "Oh no, I'm so sorry, Emma! Your clothes!"

Without hesitation, Rachel scooped up the sodden garments and rushed out of the room, leaving Emma alone and naked on the massage table. The door closed behind her, and Emma was left with nothing - no towels, no robes, no coverage of any kind.

To make matters worse, Emma's need to pee was reaching a critical point. She shifted uncomfortably on the table, trying to find a position that would alleviate the pressure. But there was no escape. She was trapped, naked and helpless, with no way to relieve herself.

The minutes ticked by, and Emma grew more and more ****. Where was Rachel? How long would it take to wash and dry her clothes? And, more pressing still, how would she survive this ordeal without any semblance of dignity?