Dress Off: Courtney vs. Alison

Then, as she had sniffed and turned her nose on the rebellious item, she'd felt the material at the top of her dress part slightly as the lace-up ties that connected the top parts spontaneously failed.

Courtney had gritted her teeth and clenched her fists in frustration, but having seen the state of Alison's clothing as she'd come into that hall, Courtney had known what was awaiting her.

Now, with a new clue buzzing in her mind, Courtney half-sprinted through the halls, hoping that she'd somehow see something that would trigger a hint in her mind and allow her to solve the clue.

She had no intention of letting that brunette bitch take this to a tie-breaker clue, and felt a single-minded determination to end this now.

It was still a few minutes to go before the museum would close for the night, and the regular day-time patrons were stealing the final opportunity to check out a few last displays before they'd be ushered out. There would also be a new crowd coming in shortly, for the private function that Courtney still hoped to attend at Shane's side.

She just had to solve this one clue. She just had to finish this game in this next leg, and then sit back in satisfaction while the evil ex-wife was degradingly humiliated in front of the ex-husband and the woman who'd saved him from a life of married misery.

"Not far to go now." Courtney said to herself, trying to pick up her spirits while she walked past two men who very obviously stared directly at her cleavage.

Of course, there was the small matter that Courtney had no real idea yet where exactly it was she actually supposed to be going to. Near or far though, the thought of being so close to victory over Alison was all she needed to pick her spirits up again.

"I can do this!" she said under her breath.

"Indeed you can, possibly," the voice said, it's intrusion sending a sudden chill down Courtney's spine, "however it won't be this clue I'm afraid. It would appear that Mrs Steyn has more fight in her than initially thought. We have ourselves a tied game..."

*****

Courtney's mind raced as the full extent of her situation closed in around her.

Every time she moved, it felt like she was flashing the bottom of the thong to those around her. If she worried too much about her thong though, something happened to remind her that she was also no longer wearing a bra with a dress that clearly displayed her cleavage.

After the voice had announced - with more than a little hint of amusement - that Alison had evened the scores in such rapid succession, Courtney have discovered what had made Alison turn her back on her in the hall.

The clasp on her backless, strapless bra had failed, and the two cups that held snugly to her breasts and immediately become unstuck. The carefully placed adhesives that she thought would keep her safe had dissolved in seconds, and two useless pieces of an ex-bra had slid down and fallen on the floor. As she also suffered the embarrassment of her dress shortening, she also had discovered that it was also tightening, so that absolutely every curve of her body was now outlined by the offensive item.

She couldn't take it off though, because except for her thong it was all Courtney had. She merely had to settle for dashing through the museum, red-faced and risking further exposure with every second and with every movement.

She staggered along, looking from side to side, trying to avoid the looks of the people around her and completely failing. Courtney could feel the men staring at her ass, or making comments to each other while ogling her boobs. Some of the comments floated over the air to her, and turned Courtney's ears red with embarrassment at their crudeness.

Her mind was a mess of emotions, stress piled upon uncertainty, topped off with a dollop of fear. She couldn't afford to lose the next clue. They were tied at two-all, and the next clue would determine who would walk out of this a winner, and who would be forever humiliated.

She cursed herself as Courtney realized she'd been wandering corridors and halls aimlessly, trying to avoid the stares and judgments of others rather than actually solve the clue.

"Come on Courtney!" she chanted to herself, trying to will herself to uncovering what the clue could possibly mean. 'Where Bobby Lee was turned back on July 3rd.'

Courtney racked her mind over and over again, as she trotted along another corridor, feeling the cool air whip between her upper thighs where only minutes ago her dress had comfortably rested. It was even worse when she had to stop and bend down to check some of the names beneath displays and items. That meant either bending at the knee, causing her dress to ride up even further and show half her panties, or bending at the waist in which case anyone behind got a complete eyeful of her ample derriere. She was damned either way.

Courtney screwed up her face at the continuing indignity, and kept trying to refocus her mind on the all-important clue.

"Where Bobby Lee... where Bobby Lee... where Bob E Lee... fuck!"

Bobby Lee... Bob E Lee... Robert E. Lee. The southern general who fought in the civil war...

Courtney stopped suddenly, and then frantically tried to remember where she'd seen a Civil War diorama. It was one level down from where she current was, she was sure of that. Turning on her heels, forgetting about trying to hide her ass, and pushing away thoughts of what her bouncing cleavage must look like with out a bra or the dress's lace-up front, she simply thought about getting to that diorama before Alison. That was all that mattered now.

She only made it half way to the stairs though before Courtney's earpiece sprang back to life.

Courtney froze.

"No," she whispered, "no, it's not fair... I figured it out... I figured out the clue..."

"Yes," the voice replied, calmly and with a sense of detachment that almost stung Courtney, "but I think you'll find Mrs Steyn not only figured out the clue, but is currently standing by that very diorama of the Battle of Gettysburg that you were undoubtedly heading too."

Courtney closed her eyes.

"No!" she said, louder this time, and confusing two nearby men who had been otherwise studying Courtney's somewhat odd choice of outfit.

"Oh, but yes, my dear Miss Smith," came the smooth response, "and I'm very much afraid to say that this game does not reward those who come in second place."

"I was so..." Courtney started to plead. She was cut off though. The breeze between her legs where her thong was so cruelly exposed was suddenly replaced by the gentlest of itches. Courtney looked around, blushing as she saw she was being watched, but couldn't resist running a hand down and giving the itch a quick scratch. A man pointed and laughed at Courtney as she pulled her hand back up guiltily.

The itch returned, this time with more power. Grunting in deep embarrassment, Courtney was forced to scratch her crotch again, and she could see in the expressions of those around her just how undignified she must look.

Courtney started to try and find somewhere more private, half-knowing already where this was leading to even as the itch returned for a third time. This time, no amount of scratching could relieve the agony of that itch. As she dashed into an empty side-corridor, Courtney had to finally surrender to the torment that the manufacturers of the panties had built in.

Looking around and finding herself mercifully alone at least for the moment, she gripped the panties in both hands, let out an inventive curse against the game's rules, and yanked the offending item down her legs until they pooled at her ankles. The itch mercifully disappeared, but a moment's relief was all Courtney was afforded, before the consequence of her actions struck home. She kicked away the useless thong, and then tried to pull the dress down at least an inch or two. Anything to protect her naked pussy, and hide the fact that she was cleanly shaved.

The dress wouldn't budge though, and it was as she was trying to eek out even half an inch's worth of modesty out of her sole remaining item that the full terror of the latest clothing malfunction manifested itself.

Before her very eyes, the material of the dress turned from black with a gold sheen to be semi-translucent. Holding the very edge in her fingers, Courtney's mouth dropped open in horror as she realized she could see her fingers through the very material she was counting on to hide her otherwise naked body.

"Oh no!" Courtney swore.

The entire dress faded. Not entirely invisible, possibly still visible enough for someone at a distance to still think she was wearing something. Anyone close up though... Courtney shook her head trying to wake up from what must surely be a nightmare. Anyone close up would see her naked body through the semi-sheer material. Her nipples, her tummy, her crotch... everything!

"The good news," the voice in her ear said, choosing that moment to continue, "is that the museum is closing for any casual patrons that might have wandered in to check out the exhibits. The halls and corridors are probably beginning to empty even as I speak. The bad news is... well, your boyfriend does have a private function on tonight, doesn't he?"

"Please," Courtney begged, "don't let him see me like this!"

"Well, that all depends on just how much you want to avoid that. Firstly, how about you join Harrington for a... ahem... debriefing?"

Courtney trembled slightly at that thought.

"How... but... I don't know where she is!"

For the first time, she heard a laugh through her ear piece.

"Oh, don't worry, we've been sending you her location for the past thirty minutes, you just weren't listening to it consciously. Relax, you know where she is, you just don't know that you know, yet."

As if triggered by something the voice said, and without any conscious effort to do so, Courtney found herself propelled forward. Her own legs took on a life of their own and were carrying her out of the relative safety of the empty side-corridor and back into the hall beyond.

On robotically marching legs, and utterly overwhelmed by the degrading state of what little was left of her clothing, a hapless Courtney was led helplessly deeper and deeper into the museum.

*****

Courtney could feel the hot flush in her face as she walked down the long corridor, the tight sheer dress clinging to her body in a way that accentuated her embarrassment rather than doing anything to alleviate it.

Her footsteps echoed in the wide passageway, and with every sharp ring of her heels on the cold floor, she agonized that she'd bring dozens of patrons rushing to see what all the commotion was about.

Courtney squeezed her eyes shut. Somehow, without even looking where she was going, her body moved on, never breaking stride or walking into some obstacle. It was if her mind had taken a mental snapshot of the museum's layout while she'd been rushing around and now her exposed, humiliated body was responding to some other deeper instruction.

She clenched her fists, and willed herself to stop, turn and dash into a side room somewhere. Powerless though, she merely had to silently rage as her legs marched ever onwards. She couldn't even bring herself to cover up. Couldn't drape an arm across her nipples that poked so prominently through the see-through top, or strategically place a hand where the sight of her bare pussy shimmered in and out of view beneath the translucent material constituting her outfit.

As she rounded another corridor, Courtney re-opened her eyes and was immediately greeted with the terrifying sight of an old lady admiring an exhibit of old porcelain plates.

"Oh God, no!" the humiliated woman whispered to herself, as she mechanically strode on, directly on a path that would take her right past the white-haired senior citizen.

Courtney grimaced, and prayed that her movements would silent enough that the old woman, seemingly fixated on the display in front of her, would ignore the display that was about to pass her.

As tonight's game had so harshly proven to be the case though, this was no longer Courtney's lucky day.

She was less than ten feet away when her footsteps finally alerted the woman to Courtney's presence. The old lady initially just gave Courtney a cursory glance, before focusing back on the display, but as Courtney tried to speed up and get past her, the woman's head began to swivel back to face her.

Courtney could see a look of shock on her face, and the old woman's eyes went bug-eyed behind her thick-rimmed glasses.

"Young lady!" she exclaimed, indignity radiating from her, "do you realize what you're wearing?!"

Courtney was all to aware of what she was wearing. Her nipples were diamond-hard at this point, and would have been visible through the tight material even if the dress hadn't gone translucent so that people could see her body from close up.

She was still moving forward, and she could still feel the tight dress slide between her thighs, hyper-conscious of the fact that her bald shaven pussy was not particularly well hidden the sheer clothing.

With face-burning embarrassment, Courtney could feel the woman's eyes run down her body, linger with disapproval of her breasts, and then trace a line down to her crotch.

Courtney tried to ignore the expression that flashed across the other woman's features, but she knew that the fact that she'd shaved a few days ago had not escaped attention.

"Girls today!" the white-haired senior said with a snort of derision. Courtney's face went even redder than it had been before, and she could feel the beetroot burn of her cheeks.

Mercifully her legs didn't seem to have any intention to stop and give her a chance to chat, and Courtney marched on past, feeling the old lady's eyes follow her.

As she felt eyes pour over every inch of her exposed bottom, Courtney stumbled jerkily onwards, and wondered if things could possibly get any more embarrassing than this.

"Young lady," a voice called out behind her, "there is such a thing as dignity, and you'd be well served to remember it!"

Courtney groaned at that latest jibe. Dignity was in pretty short supply around here she reflected, bitterly.

*****

Courtney had already paraded past at three other people before she reached the non-descript door in the unremarkable side-corridor that her legs had propelled her to.

Each time, there had been the same humiliating sequence of events. The other person would glance at her in passing, and then the realization of what they'd just seen would seep into their brain. Then they'd take a much longer, harder look at Courtney, and the sheer dress began to feel practically invisible. Courtney would feel the eyes touching every part of her body, checking out her breasts, a raised eyebrow or open-mouthed gawk at the shape and size of her boobs, before the inevitable gasp as they realized Courtney's crotch was also visible from close range through the misbehaving dress.

Courtney would keep walking past each of them, and hadn't uttered a word of response to the various cries of outrage or pick-up lines that she'd so far had to suffer through.

Instead, she'd solely focused on reaching her final destination, wherever that proved to be.

Now she was here. She was confident of that, even though she knew that practically she had no way of knowing on a conscious level what the subliminal message had told her.

Still, there was something about the door, black and unmarked as it was, that gave the suggestion of a certain finality. Her hand moved to the door handle, and the handle twisted easily in her grasp.

As the door pushed open, a low-lit room was revealed, which seemed to stretch out a fair distance, with a wall on one side and a huge curtain on the other. Courtney started to in without a second thought. Once in, the door swung shut slowly, and the light coming in from the corridor was cut off.

The room was darker than the corridor behind her, even though there was a dim light coming from a couple of light fixtures high up in the ceiling.

Straight ahead, standing bemused with her arms crossed, Courtney could see Harrington waiting for her. Glancing around, wondering about the room, Courtney could see a mix of equipment piled up against a far wall, and a stage that had been setup near the large, heavy black curtain.

Without proper light, Courtney couldn't quite make out what was on the small stage, but nonetheless she got a sense of trepidation just from looking at it.

Harrington gave Courtney a cold, hard smile, as the near-naked woman presented herself in the dark-lit backroom, her hands forced down to her sides so as to give maximum exposure of her body beneath the sheer dress.

"Hello Courtney. Glad to see you made it here, I was beginning to wonder if you'd stopped to show yourself off to absolutely everyone in the museum."

Harrington beckoned Courtney forward, and even in the semi-darkness Courtney could see that her friend Elizabeth Harrington had been replaced by a far more sinister figure. Her features were cold and calculating, and far removed from the Elizabeth that Courtney remembered.

"You suit that dress," Harrington said, "but I think I have something that'll suit you even more."

The tall raven-haired woman - who was radiating a sense of regal, poised control - indicated the stage with one outstretched finger.

Courtney gulped, and then closed her eyes again as she heard the door open behind.

"Oh, Alison, good of you to join us," Harrington said, her smirk audible even with Courtney squeezing her eyes shut. It was embarrassing enough to be betrayed by her own body, exposing herself in front of Harrington. But to do it in front of Alison as well?!

As Courtney tried desperately to think about other things though, she belatedly came to the conclusion that the issue of her clothing might only be one small aspect of her humiliation. She could hear Alison cross the distance from the door to where they were standing, and sensed movement as Alison walked past her and positioned herself near Harrington. With a feeling on impending dread, Courtney could feel a tingle in her crotch that signaled something even more embarrassing that being naked. Courtney was now turned on, and the clinging material of the dress couldn't hide the slight dampness that she was now sporting between her legs.

"Okay, okay, you win Alison, well done." Courtney said nervously, hoping that all the two women had in mind was some teasing.

Alison didn't smile as such, but her face wore a hungry expression. She looked sideways at Harrington.

"Well," Harrington continued, catching Alison's look and smiling slyly at it, "we now reach the, ahh, climax of our little game."

Harrington then strolled slowly over to where the red-faced Courtney stood rooted to the spot, hands forced down to her sides, the small patch of wetness around her crotch slowly growing on the material that did nothing to hide her shame.

Placing an arm over Courtney's shoulders, Harrington turned to face Alison.

"Of course, I suppose some might argue this is an end to your feud. Alison is clearly the winner; Courtney is clearly... well... clearly so many things!"

"Stop making me turned on!" Courtney half-shouted, some measure of defiance still in her.

Harrington just curled her lips into a sneer.

"Oh, my dear Courtney, my subliminal message merely got you here. That wet patch is entirely of your own making!"

Alison laughed at that, and the sound of the laughter burned Courtney's ears.

"But," Harrington continued, "I also like to make sure that there is no ambiguity, and just as you both chose to play this game, so must one of you choose to end it."

Courtney had enough control over her body to turn her head to look at Harrington, uncertainty written large in her features.