Not on the way down

Maryanna shivered as she stepped out into the corridoor, her naked skin still moist from her recent shower. She clutched her clothes tightly to her. These beautiful clothes, her symbols of pride. When she wore them it showed her status as an entrepeneur, a master of her domain. She was about to incinerate them all, leaving her with nothing but a couple of trenchcoats and some tennis shoes to be worn only with permission.

She dashed down a flight of stairs, her heart pounding, then glanced down the next one to see if anyone was coming. She repeated this process over and over as she descended down the building. She looked almost like a ninja. A comically incompetent ninja, with her delectable, firm buttocks shamefully on display.

Maryanne breathed a sigh of relief as she got to the basement without anyone seeing her; an astonishing piece of luck. She found the incinerator easily enough. It was a huge state of the art model just as her former employee had described. She placed her clothing down near it and opening the door, looking into the flames. She took one last mournful look at all her accumulated clothing; her expression of her wealth, status and dignity. She closed her eyes, gulped heavily and tossed them all in. She heard a great whooshing sound for a few moments, before silence returned.

When she opened her eyes they were all gone, and she was left with no more to wear than the day she was born. She sighed heavily to turn around and see Jeffrey, the building's sixty year old superintendent, his eyes wide and fully drinking in the sight of Maryanne's perfect pink nipples standing at attention and her neatly trimmed pubes sitting above the hint of her delicate quim.

Maryanne immediately covered herself, blushing a deep crimson, unable to look into his eyes. Jeffrey stammered

"M-ms. Price, what're you doing down here?"

"I was, um, uh, just um, getting rid of some odds and ends."

Jeffrey looked at her with a combination of confusion, and of course, deep arousal.

"Oh, right then. Umm, Ms. Price you should know that if you walk around like that I'm liable to get complaints."

A sudden compulsion clicked into gear inside Maryanne's mind. One finger lifted, exposing her right breast, tracing her lips as her voice grew husky.

"Well, Jeffrey, if you were to ignore those complaints then I'd be very... grateful. Maybe you can come by to my apartment later and we can 'discuss' some new arrangements to the building's clothing code being made..."

Maryanne gave him a wink heavy with seductive promise. This was confusing to Jeffrey, as the woman seemed so flustered and nervous mere moments ago.

"P-perhaps, Ms. Price."

Maryanne blew the stunned super a kiss and left the basement. After she closed the door she felt a powerful surge of shame. She needed to get back to her room, fast. She darted back up in a sprint, praying no-one would see her. When she got back to her room, she slammed the door and locked it.

Oh the shame!

Now she had to worry about Jeffrey coming by later to "collect" on her promise, not to mention whatever future plans her tormentor had in mind.