Wear the mask

Whatever that woman's intentions were, she had a point. If they did know who she was, it was best they never spot her. You flip the white mask around in your hand and give it a quick visual dissection before throwing it on.

It wasn't long before you arrived at the entrance to the tunnel. It was hard to tell where the group of men were looking, their attention obscured through the peerless polaroid glass.

Swallowing your fear, you attempted to walk right past them. You almost screamed when a hand grasped your shoulder. You had been hsed to the groping at this point, but this grip was different to the rest. Not out of a desire for lust, but simply to stop you. And stop you they did.

"Inspection," one of the sunglassed men said as his other hand reached towards you.

Terrified, you simply closed your eyes and waited for the mask to be pulled out of your face. But it wasn't.

"I said inspection," the man repeated, "your tits woman."

Your eyes opened again after you processed the situation. So it wasn't your face he wanted to inspect. Fine.

Fearing getting caught, and otherwise just wanting to be done with this situation, you concede, bringing your finger to the crease along the middle of your dress and parting them like dripping folds, your breasts flopping out proudly soon after.

Even with his sunglasses on you knew exactly where he was looking. In a way, you took some measure of pride from dominating his attention like that. He reached a hand out towards them, perhaps to squeeze.

You made short work of slapping his hand away when he did though.

"We're done," you said, and proceeded into the tunnel. They didn't follow.