Katelyn complies and strips

Katelyn takes another quick look around the room. The walls are all flat. Surely they'll let her go if she changes her mind. "Fine," she whispers mostly to herself. She steps over to the compartment and drops the piece of paper into the compartment and says "one." She then places her keys and says "two."

"Stop," the female voice says. "How many objects is that?"

Katelyn looks at the mirror and says louder "two."

"Please hold up the keys," the woman continues.

Katelyn doesn't need to. As soon as the voice says "keys" she understands what it means. The redhead starts to feel even more frustrated by the situation. She holds it up anyway.

"The Facility values precision," the second male voice states. "How many objects?"

Weirdly, after the voice makes that statement, Katelyn starts to feel a twinge of relief. The word "precision" makes her more comfortable with the idea that maybe this is some sort of life improvement immersive game. Ms. Stanley might have her best interest in mind after all. She had seen articles about male executives going off into the woods to bond, strip down, and howl at the moon by a fire. Maybe this was something like that but in a bizarre game format. She looks at the key chain and notes it has five keys, a bottle opener, and a small figure of the superhero Rogue. That's seven things, eight if she counts the key ring. She places the key chain in the compartment again. "Eight and the note makes nine," she says.

"Better. Noting the test subject is quick to adjust when errors are pointed out," the deep voice says. The statement makes Katelyn feel small and she can't help but apologize to the mirrored wall.

"No apologies. Only corrections," the second male voice states. "Please continue. Time is precious."

Katelyn nods her head and looks at her phone. Putting her keys in the compartment was one thing but her phone...she'd have no way to call for help. "This is just a game," she reminds herself and places the phone. "Ten," she says and takes a deep breath. What's next is more difficult. The voices expected her to strip. She wonders if they're recording this. If she'll end up on the Internet as part of some prank channel on YouTube. But Ms. Stanley was a respected woman, she wouldn't lower herself to that sort of entertainment, would she? Probably not. As she's working up the courage the compartment pulls in for a moment, startling her, when it slides back out it's empty. Her keys and phone, gone. One more time she glances at the wall where she entered for a sign of a door, but it's simply smooth as if she's always been in this room. There's no way back now. Only forward.

She starts by removing her left black pump followed by the right. Placing them both in the compartment and counting out loud "11 and 12" as she does. She's startled as the compartment sucks them inside and comes back empty. Standing flat-footed on the sterile floor her heart thumps on her chest. They aren't going to give her a chance to change her mind. Once the clothing is off, it is gone for...who knows how long.

Next to go is her blazer. She slides it off her shoulders, folding it neatly, and placing it in the compartment. She spent a couple of weeks of paychecks on that interview blazer so she hopes they don't wrinkle it. She says "13" and once again, the compartment pulls in and returns empty, like a monster slowly eating her clothing one item by one. Looking down at her body she tries to determine what should go next. Part of her hopes this is a prank and once she removes a certain amount of clothing someone will pop out of the wall and offer her a job at Ms. Stanley's company.

Katelyn decides on her skirt because it will leave her panties covered up by her tights. She slips the skirt off her legs and feels her cheeks burn with shame as she places it in the compartment. "Fourteen," she says as the compartment swallows her skirt. Releasing a sigh she starts to unbutton her blouse. "I can't believe I'm doing this," she says out loud.

The female voice responds. "Our analysis of your data would suggest otherwise, test subject. And we think we can safely ascertain that an examination of your physiological response will reinforce those findings."

Katelyn swallows and feels herself wanting to hide. "Wh-what does that mean?" she asks the mirror, pausing in the middle of unbuttoning.

"We said no questions," the deep male voice replies, "please continue and only count."

Katelyn doesn't know why but she whispers "sorry" as she bashfully continues to undo her blouse. Once she finishes she slides it off revealing a silky green bra underneath. She places the blouse in the compartment and watches it leave as she speaks "15."

She's lost in thought as she hooks her thumbs into her tights. What did the man mean by 'suggest otherwise'? Did they think she'd actually want to be made to strip in front of three, she looks at the mirrored wall again, well, who knows how many people are watching her right now. The thought that she was being observed by a room full of anonymous people gave her goosebumps and her breathing quicken. As she places the tights in the compartment and says "16" the realization that they expect her to go all the way sets in. No secret doors open with someone yelling "STOP! We're were simply testing to see how far you can go." Swoosh, the compartment takes her tights and leaves her in her matching green bra and panties.

She loved this set of underwear. She felt the green of the material complemented her green eyes. She swallows thinking about how she selected the set because she thought they would make her feel sexy and confident in any potential interview. Now that didn't matter. They were her only remaining covering. She looks at the compartment which returned empty as she reaches her hands behind her back and unhooks her bra. She wishes she could find the confidence to at the least make this entertaining for anyone who was watching but instead she's been struck shy. The bra releases her small orange sized breasts to the air of the sterile room. She swallows and places it in the compartment "17" she says and waits for it to be pulled inside.

"Please finish," the deep-voiced man says.

Again, she apologizes, not even sure why. She starts to push the panties down from her hips. Her cheeks burn a deep pink as she looks down and watches them peel away. A thread of clear fluid connecting from her labia to the crotch of the panties. Slipping them off her foot she feels the material in her hands. The panties are absolutely soaked. "oh my god," she whispers to herself. She feels shame as she places the panties in the compartment with an "18." She was so shocked by what was happening she barely recognized how aroused she had become. Whoever was on the other side removing her items would have to pick up her wet panties. Moments after the compartment slides inside the mirrored-wall the woman drives the discovery home by stating "it appears a physical examination isn't necessary after all to prove the data. Please have a seat and prepare for your punishment for failing to follow our specifications."

"Punishment?" Katelyn says in the mirror with an arm crossing her chest and one between her legs.

"Did you follow your instructions exactly as given before coming here?" The second male voice asks.

"No, but they weren't very..."

There's a swooshing sound behind her. Looking over her shoulder she sees the door has opened. The voice continues, "if you have decided to not accept The Facility's offer you may leave. Otherwise, please sit and accept your punishment so we may get on with The Process."

She looks at the doorway in the wall. Part of her wants to leave. This experience isn't what she had expected. She hugs her naked body tighter. "But what about my clothes?"

There's silence. Katelyn takes a step back from the mirror. "Hello? What about my clothes?"

The silence continues. Her heart thumps in her chest. Maybe the clothes would be in the hall waiting for her if she leaves? But what if they aren't? And her car keys? And her phone? How would she get home?

"At least tell me what the punishment is," again she says to the mirror. The silence continues. Katelyn looks down at the chair. She doesn't know what to do. Her anxiety ramped up to eleven she's paralyzed by indecision.

Suddenly, the mirrored wall lights up with a giant ":60." A computerized voice speaks: "Subject, you have 60 seconds to comply or leave the premises."

"But..." she says again as the number starts to count down. She huffs knowing making more pleas would be fruitless.