Eternally Vanishing Clothes

Eliza Clark sat in a classroom of twenty-odd students, listening to the teacher drone on about math problems. She wore a loose-fitting green top, a dark blue thigh-length skirt, and white sneakers.

It was said that Professor Brown's was one of the easiest classes in the college, but Eliza barely understood what was happening. She fingered her blonde ponytail, frantically scribbling down the equations that Professor Brown had written on the board. The bell rang, prompting a mob of students to leap out of their desks for lunch. Eliza wished she could join them, but she knew she should finish copying the equations first. She wrote quickly, eager to get some food from the cafeteria. "Take your time Eliza," Professor Brown said kindly. "I've got a meeting now, but take as long as you need to finish copying. Also, would you please wipe the board when you are finished?"

"'Kay," said Eliza nervously. "Thanks".

Professor Brown smiled warmly. "Don't forget that my door is always open if you need to go over the material again".

"Thanks again", replied Eliza.

The door closed behind Professor Brown as he strode down the hall. Hungry and eager to meet her friends, Eliza hurried to finish writing. Suddenly, she felt a strange slight breeze on her back. Glancing behind her, she saw the AC unit, humming as it always did, and she also saw something stranger: her bare shoulder. It wasn't just her shoulder. Looking down, she saw her entire body, from the top of her neckline to the bottom of her skirt, was completely bare. Even her shoes were gone. As her arms snapped up to cover her breasts and crotch, she buried her backside in her rough plastic chair. No, no, NO! How had this happened? Where had her clothes gone? A thousand questions swarmed through her head as she pulled her hands tighter around herself. Eliza jumped as her blonde hair, once tied into a tight ponytail, skimmed her upper back. Of course, she thought, if my clothes are gone, then my scrunchie must be too. She pulled desperately on her hair, hoping at least to cover something, but it was no use. Her hair barely reached past her shoulders.

If only she had a backpack to cover herself! But due to shootings in the area, backpacks were not permitted. Instead, notebooks were stored in the classroom. Her notebook! It wasn't much cover, but it was still better than her hands. Grasping for it, Eliza shoved the pages over her bust. Pressing the notebook over her body, she was surprised not to feel any paper. In fact, her breasts actually felt her hands, and her hands felt her breasts. The notebook was nowhere to be seen. I can't cover myself with anything! Eliza panicked. I'm going to stay naked forever! Fuck! Her math notes! She almost laughed at herself for thinking it—she had bigger problems, but she'd spent a lot of time copying those down. A fresh wave of goosebumps erupted as she heard a group of boys chattering outside. *Focus, damnit! You've got to get somewhere private!* thought Eliza.

Eliza grabbed her satchel, which had her phone, credit card, and dorm keys inside. She briefly considered using it to cover herself, but decided it wasn't worth the risk. She waited until the boys' voices had faded before gingerly opening the door.

A wave of conditioned air from the hallway hit her bare body. Shivering, she took a few small steps out of the classroom, her exposed nipples hardening. Just one hallway, Eliza thought, her mind overflowing with all the ways this could go wrong, then I'll be in the bathroom. And then I'll—um—think of something. Eliza kept walking. She couldn't quite see the bathroom yet—it was behind one of several protrusions in the wall, meant provide cover in case of a school shooter\[1\]. Ironic, she thought, ducking from cover to cover, how this is the most use those shooter drills have been so far.

Trembling in the hallway's cool air, Eliza continued her slow, nervous walk. Suddenly, she heard a pair of shoes squeaking on the floor behind her. Eliza tensed, preparing to duck for the cover. As the footsteps grew closer, she bolted behind the protrusion and hugged the wall tightly. Goosebumps erupted all over her body as she pressed herself closer to the freezing tiles. Why the hell do they keep the building so cold? She wondered, barely able to keep herself from trembling. "Alright, see you later. Bye," said a voice. Eliza tensed. She knew that voice. It belonged to Walter Brady, the school creep. He was always staring at her and making pervy remarks. He liked other girls too, of course, but he always had his eye on her. Eliza hugged her arms tighter over her privates.

Walter's footsteps began rapidly progressing down the hall, as if he was running. Eliza wrung her hands nervously. There was only one thing she could do. Keeping her breasts and womanhood pressed to the wall, Eliza carefully placed her hands—the right one still holding her satchel—over her bottom. The wall had begun to warm up from her body heat, but it was still a strange feeling to have her naked body rubbing the smooth tiles. Finally, she turned her head toward the hallway. If Walter was coming, she wanted to know when.

Eliza heard Walter's footsteps running down the hallway. As the footsteps got closer and closer, she pressed herself harder into the smooth wall.

Walter sped past Eliza, eyes locked on the bathroom. Evidently, he was too distracted by his need to relieve himself to notice her. Whew, she thought, that was close!

As he reached the bathroom, he suddenly paused, turning around, his eyes narrow with confusion. The moment he saw Eliza, he turned to her, snapping to attention. She was blushing furiously. "Please", she whispered, "you never saw this. Please". As if attempting to merge with it, she pressed her body into the tiled wall with all her might. Walter was grinning widely now. "Oh," he chuckled, strolling towards her, "but I have". Taking one finger, he reached out and stroked Eliza's bare back. Eliza tensed reflexively, but kept her position. She couldn't let him see anything else.

She was blushing even more furiously now, tears in her eyes.

"That's strike one," Walter relented, still stroking, "but I'm warning you, Eliza, if I see you naked again, you won't get off so easy". With that, he removed his hand, gave her one final ogle, and strode into the boys' bathroom. Eliza waited a few seconds in case he was tricking her, but when he didn't come back out, Eliza sprinted into the girls' bathroom, her breasts bouncing uncomfortably and her satchel swinging as she ran.

Luckily, no one was in there. Eliza quickly sprinted into a stall, locked the door, and climbed up onto the toilet, crouching down so no one could see her. Pulling out a piece of toilet paper, she wrapped it around her breasts. If she had access to disposable material, she might as well experiment.

As expected, the toilet paper immediately disappeared, Eliza sighed and tried another strip, wrapping this one around her midriff. Again, it vanished. Eliza tried a final one on her head, but immediately after placing it she could feel only hair. She'd have to ask her mom to pick her up and take her home. Then she could finish her college experience remotely.

As she pulled out her satchel with her phone inside, she froze. No. She wouldn't call her mom. That would be too humiliating.

At that moment, she heard a high-pitched voice, as if someone was fast-forwarding an old tape recorder. It wasn't coming from any direction, though. It was almost as if it was coming from inside her ears. "God damnit," the voice said, "another victim. Why won't he just give up already?"