Her panties

Her panties had brushed against the chair, friction proving just a little too much as the paper tore, the band wrapped tightly around her waist quickly giving way. A slight squeak escaped Karen's lips, before she fell silent, flushing.

They weren't going to stay on if she stood up. She was suddenly far too aware of that fact.

She shifted slightly in her chair, losing her train of thought utterly at the feel of a loose strap of paper falling from her bare thigh. Why did this keep happening?! There was the strip of paper tightly wrapped around her chest, all she had to fill the role of a bra, and nothing else.

Admittedly the paper panties weren't much, a sheet over the front and another over the back connected by a paper strip, but it was a hell of a lot better than being bottomless! At least if she stayed near the edge of her chair the bolted-down table between them would stop Frank seeing what was, well, under the table. And there shoudln't be anyone just bursting into the room, though she did spare a nervous sideways glance towards the door.

She'd felt exposed before, but now there was very little concealing the curve of her ass, the torn strip making it all to clear she had nothing else on.

"Karen?" Frank said.

"O-ok," she said, swallowing and trying to focus again through the heat in her cheeks.

Matt wanted more information. So long as she could get all that down she'd never need to come back here, she focused on that thought. Just get the answers and get it over with.

"So, um, they want to know..." she said. Once she started talking she could fall into a more natural patter, as though this situation was anything but normal.

She kept her arms crossed, albeit not too tightly; she'd already learned how fragile the paper could be. Still this was one advantage to not being allowed to bring a pen into the room; she didn't need to write in front of him. She could just ask questions from the list in front of her.

Gulp. And then go outside at some point to note them all down.

How much could she hold in her head? Hopefully a lot.

Flushing a little more, Karen glanced down the list of questions. Damn it, did it have to be double-sided?! After a handful she faltered, glancing back and trying to recall what his answers had been.

Fuck. Karen took a shaky breath.

"Sorry, what did you say about..." she said, flushing a little more.

It was hard to tell whether or not Frank was annoyed at repeating himself. He seemed to be annoyed at everything.

"O-ok," Karen squeaked. "I need to note that down. Give me a second."

She didn't move, nervously staying in her seat. She couldn't expose herself again to him could she?! The only reason she'd come in again was because that wasn't meant to happen.

"You're not moving," Frank said.

"I-I know," Karen squeaked again. "Give me a second!"

Deep breath. She inhaled, then stumbled to her feet, yelping as the inadequate garment slipped from her bare, pale thighs. Grabbing the sheets on the table too soon, she held them in front of her pussy and sidestepped to the door.

She squealed as she flashed her ass for a second while darting through it.

Outside, Karen moved over to the table, hunching forwards slightly. She cast a flustered sideways glance to the guard, thankfully seeing him keeping his distance out of some vague sense of propriety. Though it wasn't like that sense had stopped him demanding she strip down.

Twin pale cheeks were fully in view as she bent forwards over the desk, hastily scribbling down what had better be all the pertinent points. Oh god, and there was still so much of the list to go, how was she supposed to keep exposing everything?

Nervously, she adjusted her paper bra. How much more could it take for that matter? The panties hadn't survived sitting down, she wouldn't be surprised if that was picking up a few small tears. Karen swallowed.

Then again... Her eyes caught on the pen. It wasn't chained down this time; a few routines had apparently been adjusted for this visit. Not that she was complaining, it was slightly less humiliating. Truly the best kind of being stripped down to less than underwear; she bit her lip.

But the pen was loose. She wasn't meant to bring anything that potentailly dangerous into a room with the Punisher, but it wasn't like he'd hurt her. And it would mean she wouldn't have to keep sneaking out, she'd only need to go in and go out once more, and then run right for her clothes again.

So long as she didn't get caught, at least. Though frankly it wasn't as though that would be much worse than this continued embarrassment.

Nervously, Karen glanced back towards the guard. She blushed as he turned to face her, looking away.

Whatever she picked, she ought to do it fast. She didn't want to wait around in full view for any longer than necessary.