Dress Off: Bryony vs. Maria

A loud piercing wolf whistle ripped out across the hall as a few catcalls also began to heard over the amazed murmurings of an audience trying to make sense of what it was seeing. As Maria arrived in front of the older dignitary, he realised that - albeit with his reactions dulled by the unprecedented view he was now being treated too - the woman seemed to be expecting something. Dreamily looking her up and down, he finally noticed her face, and felt that the shade of red that tinged her cheeks seemed entirely unnatural compared to the extremely fair complexion she was showing off literally everywhere else on her body. Standing still, she hopped nervously from foot to foot and gave him a pleading look, as she desperately tried to avoid looking out into the sea of faces she knew was mentally - and probably digitally too - recording her humiliating streak for all of eternity.

As the dignitary finally roused himself from his dazed musings on the finer aspects of the student body, he shook his head and wordlessly extended his hand out to give her the certificate. She was, in his view, definitely deserving of some kind of award at least! The woman looked down at the offered hand and tried to frantically point at it without actually using her otherwise occupied arms. He slowly followed her meaning and looked down at his hand, frowning. There was no certificate there. Had she taken it already? Then he clicked and said "oh!", realising that he dropped it on the stage the moment the naked graduate had arrived and crowded out any other thought or consideration from his mind.

He coughed, and quickly dropped to his knees. Maria did likewise, and as she squatted down, trying to curl herself into a ball, she grabbed the certificate from his grip the moment the Vice-President had retrieved it off the floor.

"Thank you!" Maria squeaked, in an unnaturally high voice as she gave the man a worried smile.

"You're welcome." The Vice-President replied, somehow managing to hit an even higher pitch than Maria. He coughed. "You're welcome." He said again, this time wildly over-compensating with a ridiculously low voice.

As Maria hunched over, face red and clasping her certificate against her naked bosom - a certificate that the Vice-President was remembering had only in his hands seconds ago, practically making his hands and her breasts connected in a deeply spiritual way - she shuffled over and whispered something in the man's ear. A whiff of perfume caught his nose, and he felt dizzy as the sweet aroma sent him swooning again. Then Maria whispered in his ear again, more urgently this time, and he begrudgingly snapped out of his dreams.

He looked at her strangely, and then looked out at the audience, in which we could see a swarm of camera flashes and wild gesticulations from an increasingly agitated crowd. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he shrugged, stood up and called out in as loud a voice as he could muster. "Bryony Richmond! Our next... ahh... graduate is..." he paused, looked down at Maria again in confusion even though he only just said the name he was now struggling to recall, and tried to focus his attention. Maria squeezed her eyes shut as she crouched helplessly on stage, exposed to countless strangers and peers. He stumbled over the name a third time. "Bryony Richmond!" Still somewhat dazed and unsure of what was going on, he waved a hand inarticulately at the assistant who was dealing with the certificates, who was similarly slack-jawed but had just enough self-control to figure out what was being asked of him. The assistant, eyes flitting between Maria's impressive figure and the box in front of him, slowly began the task of fumbling through the certificates to look under the 'R's.

Another commotion erupted from the side-corridor. Stagehands and graduates who had been waiting on the sidelines and who'd had their focus stolen entirely by Maria's antics, now had to contend with another naked woman bursting past them. This one, slightly shorter, blonde-haired and with a rack that made up for being slightly on the smaller side by nevertheless defiantly resisted all attempts to cover it up, similarly had a hand placed protectively over her crotch as she dashed bare-foot over the wooden floorboards. Her face was equally red as Maria's and the rest of her body equally exposed. Every footstep was punctuated with a very unladylike "shit, shit, shit" from the blonde-haired amazon.

Bryony arrived in front of the Vice-President, and shared a look of mutual please-let-the-ground-swallow-me-up-now embarrassment with Maria, while the assistant seemed to take an absolute eternity to find her certificate.

A fresh round of cat-calls broke out from the audience, and Bryony and Maria were all too aware that soon cat-calls would turn into attempts at apprehending them. Maria finally stood up next to Bryony, and with a brief and short-lived rush of bravery, the two women nervously looked out into the audience. The bright beams of the stage lights dazzled and almost blinded them, but as they looked out they saw a host of faces registering everything from shocked condemnation, through to broad, winking smirks, and taking in several stops at the realm of leering dads, for whom this ceremony had suddenly and unexpectedly exceeded all hopes. Worst still, some of the faces were obscured by cameras.

Maria groaned, and had to forcibly stop herself from sinking back to her knees. Her thighs wobbled from the stress of having to stand up completely naked, with only her hands to protect her modesty. With a swelling sense of resolve though, Maria vowed that if Bryony was going to stand, then so was she.

Finally the certificate arrived, and the Vice President tried to grab back some sense of decorum by presenting the certificate, albeit with a clearly trembling hand, and calling out in a loud and authoritative voice "Congratulations Dr Prendegast!" No, wait, that didn't sound right. He furrowed his brows as he tried to run that last sentence again through his mind. Of course! That was _his_ name! He was about to correct himself, however Bryony wasn't in the mood to wait. Snatching the offered certificate, for a split moment her breasts came into full and unimpeded view as she moved her arm due to unfortunate necessity. His gaze instantly locked in on both nipples with laser-like intensity, and he was once again lost in his own private dream world as the two women suddenly began to make a break for the other end of the stage.

As he reached up a hand to find his jaw and feel if his mouth was still hanging open, he could hazily hear a new commotion breaking out behind him. The audience, who had settled into a stunned silence as the women had made a break for it, now erupted again as condemnation, congratulations and animated debates on who had been the hottest broke out in a multitude of arguments and shouted accusations across the entire hall.

The Vice-President, still staring at the spot where Bryony's naked breasts had been moments before, absent-mindedly waved a hand for silence, but it was like trying to slap a tidal wave into submission. After a few moments of ineffectual hand gestures, he instead slowly turned, walked back to his seat, and with a deep sigh sunk back into his chair. As a few of the graduates stormed the stage to demand to know when they'd be given their certificate, he instead gave them only a happy, distant, contented smile - the first genuine smile of the evening and one destined to last long into the night.

****

Bursting through the door of their new apartment, the woman formerly known as Bryony Richmond lightly skipped over to the comfortable old couch they recently purchased, and jumped over the back to land next to her auburn-haired flatmate. The woman - who until only recently would have happily answered to the name Maria Higgins - was leafing through the small pile of letters that had appeared in their mailbox this morning. Most of it was junk mail and was being tossed to one side, but there was one envelope, which seemed to contain a small object inside of it, that had been carefully placed on their coffee table.

Excitedly, the recently arrived blonde bombshell began to recount her exploits over the day. "You should have seen me babe, this hot-shot asshole at the pool hall tried challenging me to a game, and he was so confident he started betting clothes, thinking he could get a proper look at the puppies," punctuating her rapid fire talking with an entirely unnecessary fondling of her own breasts, which were currently contained only in the loosest sense by a white tank top with a plunging neckline, "long story short, had him down to his boxers by the time the owner came by and told me none of the regulars wanted to see some guy's tiny pecker on full display." She grinned. "Reckon pool-shark is my future career path. What with that new job in IT you're interviewing for, I think we'll be set for life."

She gave the other woman a playful punch on the arm, and gave a contented sigh as she looked out the window and took in the bright moon-lit night-time sky-line of Seattle.

It had been a crazy two months. While it was certainly true that the months after graduation were normally a time of great change for any ex-student, in their case that great change had included not only a move to a new city and a new state, but new names, the discovery that a generously sizeable stipend had been deposited in their new bank accounts, and whole new backstories should anyone get inquisitive about how they'd grown up and where they'd been educated. The lengths to which the mysterious organisation had gone to after the game had been surprising and more than a little suspicious. How, for example, could they afford to do this?

Still, that wasn't their immediate concern right now, and they were settling into a new life. As angry as they had been with each other before and during the game, the shared experience of being naked up on the graduation stage, embarrassed and bereft of any cover, accepting the rewards for four years hard labour while shocked laughter, cat calls and condemnation had rung in their ears, had somehow brought them even closer together than ever before.

After having descended from the stage, hands clasping certificates and private parts in equal measures, the two women had suddenly burst out into hysterical laughter that hadn't stop even while security apprehended and lead them away. They'd barely been able to pause from laughing long enough to steal a hurried kiss - their first kiss since the night of that video - before the guards slapped handcuffs on and draped some blankets over their chests and waists.

An uncomfortable night in a cell later, they'd been bailed out, before learning that charges were being mysteriously dropped, and then found themselves disappearing into new lives. Together.

Crazy times indeed.

An envelope was placed in the blonde-haired woman's lap, and her partner gave her a nudge. "Arrived this morning."

It was addressed to both of them. She opened the envelope up, and let a small device fall out. Giving it a puzzled look, she picked up the object and turned it over in her hands. A small speaker sat above a button that was protected by a cover. With a shared look, she leaned forward and cautiously flipped the protective cover off and prodded at the button. A voice immediately sprang up, a voice that was so familiar to them that they both gasped.

"Good evening ladies." A crisp, business-like woman's voice said. It only took three words for them to realise who was speaking.

"Angelica!" They both exclaimed. Bewildered, they gave each other confused shrugs as they tried to make sense of why they were now hearing from her again, while the older woman went though the motions of congratulating them on their performances in the game and how they'd adapted to their new lives so quickly.

"W... what do you think she wants, Bree?"

Bree Carson, curling her blonde hair absent-mindedly in one hand while the instigator of their recent life-changing humiliation made an unexpected entrance into their new lives, looked at her partner and then gave a determined smile. Taking her hand, she gave an encouraging squeeze and fixed her with a re-assuring look. "I don't know Monica, but whatever it is, as long as we're together, I know we're going to be okay."

Monica Fairchild returned the smile, interlocked her fingers with Bree's and squeezed back. Shuffling closer in, she mouthed "love you" at Bree. Bree winked and gave her a wolfish grin. "Love you too." she mouthed back.

As Bree and Monica turned their attentions back to the device, Angelica Highsmith was smoothly transitioning from congratulating the two women and was now moving on to business.

"You see ladies, in truth I represent an organisation that is always on the look out for women with exceptional talent, exceptional resolve, and truly extraordinary resilience. And I rather think we've been unexpectedly blessed to discover not just one, but two such remarkable women. So I have a proposition that I think you'll both find... stimulating."

There was a brief pause in the recording. Bree and Monica leaned in, Monica resting her chin lightly on Bree's shoulder. Seemingly sensing that she had ensnared her audience, Angelica's voice spoke again. "Bree Carson. Monica Fairchild. Welcome to the Agency!"

****

[We return back to the main Dress Off series and timeline in March 2020. Special agents Bree Carson and Monica Fairchild team up with Brittney Barecat and Olivia "O" Berkeley in a desperate race to save the free world in "Dress Off 8: Hotpants in Helsinki".]