Misty Lublin's Vanishing Clothes

It was seventeen minutes past ten in the morning when Misty Lublin's clothes disappeared. She was sitting in her economics class taking notes on her professor's lecture, when suddenly every thread of clothing covering the twenty-two year old coed's nubile young body vanished into thin air. There was no warning, or flash of light, only the sudden and unexpected removal of her clothes from reality- leaving Misty stark naked in the middle of the classroom.

Misty didn't even feel it when it happened. She was sorting through her notes when she felt a cool draft against her skin, which prompted her to look down and find herself in the nude. The students seated to her right and left noticed immediately, and let out a gasp. Misty felt herself hit by a wave of panic and a rush of blood to her head.

"What the hell just happened?" she thought. She stared at her classmates, then back at herself, unable to believe what had just happened.

Dropping her pen, Misty crossed her legs and covered her breasts with her hands, but that didn't stop her from catching the attention of every person in the classroom- including the professor.

"Misty, what are you doing?" she heard someone ask.

"Why'd she take her clothes off?" someone on the other side of the room asked.

"Yeah baby, take it off!" a loudmouthed boy in the back exclaimed.

The professor stopped the lecture and turned his attention to the commotion in front of him.

"What's going on, young lady?" the professor demanded. "Where are your clothes?"

Misty looked to her right and left. Her book bag was slumped on the floor next to her desk. The rest of the floor immediately surrounding her was as bare as she was.

"I- I don't know," Misty said. "They just disappeared."

Misty's face turned bright red. She could feel her heart pounding inside her head.

"I don't have time for this," the professor said. "Put them on now or get out of my classroom."

Misty frantically searched the floor once again but found nothing.

Misty tried to utter the words "I better leave" but mumbled them so softly no one heard her. As much as she didn't want to rise from her seat, she couldn't bear to remain where she was a second longer. Misty grabbed her book bag, quickly stuffed her notes inside it, and hurried out of the classroom. Several of the boys admired her round, firm ass as she quickly exited.

"This is disgusting behavior, young lady!" the professor shouted. "I will report you to the Dean!"

Misty shut the door behind her, breathing rapidly. This was the single most embarrassing thing to ever happen to her, and she had no idea how it happened.

Misty's hopes that the hallway would be empty were crushed when she spied a small group of boys gathered near the stairway at the opposite side of the building. They immediately spotted her.

"Whoo! Nice outfit, honey!" One of the boys shouted. Mortified, Misty ran for the nearest stairway. Her classroom was on the third floor of Basil Hall, leaving her no choice but to scurry down the stairway and pray that no one else would see her.

Misty was relieved to find the stairway was empty. She hurried down the steps, with her large breasts bouncing with each step she took.

"This is like a bad dream," Misty said to herself.

Indeed, Misty had dreamt of being nude in public many times in her life. But this was different. It was vivid. It was real.

Misty pinched herself on her arm, and once she felt the surge of pain, there was no more doubt in her mind that what she was experiencing was actually happening. What she couldn't fathom, was how something like this could happen.

The truth was, that the person responsible for the disappearance of Misty's clothes was a boy named Max Paulson. He was seated at the desk one row over and one row behind Misty's, and had been staring at her for most of the lecture.

How he accomplished making Misty's clothes disappear was something even Max did not fully understand. It was a sort of gift he'd had his entire life.

He first discovered it when he was a young boy. His mother baked a batch of chocolate chip cookies, Max's favorite. She'd made a batch of twenty-four, to bring to her coworkers for a function the following day, and to Max's extreme disappointment, his mother expressly told him he was forbidden from eating a single one.

When the cookies cooled she packed them into a Tupperware container and placed them high atop the refrigerator, where Max couldn't reach them. Young Max simply sat at the base of the refrigerator and stared at the forbidden cookies, thinking of nothing but how much he wanted one, just one, and how happy that would make him.

To Mrs. Paulson's surprise, she entered the kitchen to find Max sitting on the floor with the Tupperware container in his lap, and a half eaten cookie in his hand and the other half smeared across his face.

"Max, how did you get those cookies?" she said, angrily.

Max shrugged. Mrs. Paulson snatched the container from her son and placed it onto the top shelf of the cupboard, looking around fruitlessly trying to figure out how her son had managed to get them down in the first place.

When Max stared at the cookies in the cupboard he tried to repeat his telepathic summoning, but to no success. He realized that after eating one of the cookies, the cookies no longer seemed forbidden to him, and he no longer had any hold over them. In any case, the fact that he was able to eat one of the cookies let him feeling satisfied; not just of hunger, but that he was able to overcome the obstacle he faced. Max felt he had some control in his life. He liked that.

Max found many times throughout his childhood and teen years that often, when he wanted something, when he truly craved it, he tended to get it.

He prayed one night to pass an exam that he barely studied for, and oddly enough, when he took the test, the correct answers seemed to come to him. He had a hard time explaining to his parents how a Ferrari appeared in the Paulson family driveway, the same car that Max had been admiring in a catalogue the entire afternoon, and it appeared the same day it was reported missing from a dealership 1,200 miles away. The car had to be returned but not after Max had taken it for an afternoon spin.

So Max wasn't entirely surprised by what happened to Misty Lublin at seventeen minutes past ten.

The professor had been droning on and one, and Max was bored out of his mind. The only thing that had Max remotely interested was the girl one seat in front and one row over whose name he was pretty sure started with an M.

She was wearing sexy tight jeans and a pretty pink top, and Max could not stop himself from staring at her. Her tits looked big, maybe it was just her bra, but Misty had the best looking breasts in the entire class. Max watched her every move as she took her notes on the lecture, admiring her luscious body. He could see the small of her back, in the empty space between her top and her jeans. It was a beautiful bit of skin that Misty had exposed, and he wanted to see more.

Max wanted to see Misty naked. There were a lot of pretty girls in the class, but Misty was straight in his sights, and Max had nothing to look at but her or the lecture about flexible dividends and he made his choice. He'd been staring at Misty's beautiful body for 47 minutes before he realized he wanted nothing more than to see her with her clothes off, and that's when it happened.

Max was the first one to notice. He actually felt a panic not unlike the one Misty felt. When he saw what happened to Misty he knew it was his fault. As much as he wanted to see Misty in the buff, he knew that by leaving her nude in the middle of class he had crossed a line.

While the rest of the class burst into uproar over what had happened, Max remained quiet. He didn't want to draw any attention to himself. While he knew where Misty would be able to find her clothes, he declined to tell her lest he reveal his guilt. It was far from the most honorable thing he'd ever done, but Max decided to let Misty resolve her situation on her own.

Misty was indeed in dire need of help. She removed her cell phone from her purse and briefly considered calling her mom. Although she trusted her mom more than anyone else, Misty was too embarrassed to bring her into this. She instead called her best friend Kimberly Foxton. Given Kim's love of late night partying and drinking, Misty felt she would be the most sympathetic to Misty's predicament.

Misty only hoped Kim would not tease her too much, being that Misty had always been the "good girl" in their group of friends. The previous summer, Kim, Misty, and their friend Lindsay stayed at Lindsay's parents' cabin at a lake up north. One afternoon, they had gone swimming on the lakeside, when a young man with a camera came by and asked the girls if he could photograph them.

The man seemed friendly and the girls were in a lighthearted mood and so they agreed. The man took several snapshots of the three of them. They were all wearing bikinis, and did many seductive poses for the man's camera.

They'd been having a lot of fun posing, so the man suggested the girls take their tops off. Misty and Lindsay shared embarrassed glances, but to their surprise Kim reached behind her back and untied her bikini top. She tossed it aside and flaunted her breasts at the man, who proceeded to snap several shots of them.

Misty and Lindsay stood aside shyly as Kim flaunted her figure for the camera.. He photographed Kim sucking her finger, crossing her arms across her stomach so her breasts were squeezed together, and he shot a pose of her placing her palms on her butt with her face looking to the sky with her eyes closed.

Kim's poses were so sexy, it should not have come to a surprise to anyone that Lindsay had now stepped forward from the sidelines eager to let the photographer have a little peek at her goodies as well. Once Lindsay's top was off, the man proceeded to snap several shots of both girls. He took one shot of Lindsay sticking her butt at the camera as Kim grabbed it seductively. He took another of Kim and Lindsay standing face to face, with their nipples touching. Things began to heat up even more when he took a shot of Kim slipping her tongue into Lindsay's mouth as Lindsay slid her hand in Kim's bikini bottoms.

At this point, the photographer noticed Misty standing alone, and the fact that Misty, despite being the shy girl, had the largest breasts out of the three girls had not escaped him. He encouraged Misty to take off her top, but Misty coyly declined.

"Come on Misty, it'll be fun," Kim said.

"Yeah, Misty, do it, please," Lindsay said. Misty shook her head.

"No really, this just isn't for me," Misty said.

The girls looked very disappointed, and the photographer even more so as he eyed the generous cleavage above Misty's bikini top.

"Well, you girls going to be around much this summer?" the man asked. The girls replied that they were only there for the weekend and the man nodded. He had the girls sign some release papers, though none of the girls had ever expected anything to become of the photos that had been taken. Unfortunately, the photos haunted Kim a few months later, when she applied for an assistant teaching position at a local middle school.

On her first day, one of the students at the school had revealed that he had seen nude photos of Miss Foxton on the internet and before the end of the day those photographs were on the computer screen of the school principal. Kim was dismissed that very day.

Misty hoped that after that experience, Kim might understand Misty's need to resolve her current situation as quickly as possible. But then again, Kim had also contacted the owner of the website that hosted her infamous photos and requested not that they be removed but if she could have copies so she could submit them to various adult-modeling agencies. Kimberly Foxton was a girl of many ambitions. Kimberly Foxton was also a girl of many hangovers and consequently did not answer the phone when Misty called.

"Damn it, Kim, answer the phone I need you help right now!" Misty screamed into Kim's voicemail, and unfortunately caught the attention of some nearby students who were now entering the stairwell.

Misty hurried down the stairway to the ground level before the newly entering students could see her. She set foot on the bottom floor and took cover behind two vending machines as she waited for some nearby students to leave. Her heart was pounding a mile a minute; she felt like a prisoner and a fugitive at the same time.

"What is this, some sort of sorority stunt?"

The voice seemed to come out of nowhere, and Misty spun around so fast she almost had a heart attack.

An older man, who Misty recognized as a professor, sat on a bench across from the vending machines. He looked up from his laptop at the naked young coed standing in front of him.

Releasing how exposed she was, Misty's face turned beet red.

"Can you help me out, please?" Misty said. "I don't have any clothes. I need to get out of here."

The man gave out a chuckle.

"Well, this is probably the most unusual situation I've seen, but I think I can help," the man said. "My name's Donald Kendall."

"Misty Lublin." Misty decided not to shake hands in this instance.

Donald smiled.

"Well, Misty, why don't you take this for now?" Donald said, offering his jacket. "I can give you a ride back to my place and give you some of my wife's clothes."

Misty thankfully accepted the jacket, and buttoned it snugly. It still left her legs bare, but it was a spectacular improvement over her previous attire.

Donald put away his laptop and led Misty out to the parking lot. A few students loitering around the entrance of Basil Hall snickered at Misty's exposed ass, but Misty was thankful to have the cover she had.

Donald unlocked the door to a silver Taurus and opened the passenger door. Misty graciously sat down as Donald shut the door and entered the car from the driver's side. Misty let out a sigh of relief. It seemed the nightmare might finally be over.

Donald started the engine and pulled out of the parking spot.

"So how did you end up in the lobby of Basil Hall in your birthday suit, if I may ask?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Misty replied.

"Try me," Donald said. "I'm an open minded kind of guy."

Misty thought for a second, trying to decide how to phrase her story.

"You know, it's the weirdest thing," Misty said. "I was sitting in class, and they just disappeared. My clothes I mean."

Donald shot a glance at Misty.

"They just- disappeared?" Donald asked.

"Yeah," Misty said. "I was taking notes on my professor's lecture, and I looked down, and they were gone."

"They disappeared into thin air?" Donald asked.

"I knew you wouldn't believe me," Misty said.

"I didn't say I didn't believe you," Donald said.

"But that's crazy, isn't it?" Misty asked.

Donald drove out of the parking lot and onto the main road.

"Tell me this," Donald said. "Is there anyone in your class who might have wanted this to happen to you? Another student perhaps, or your professor?"

"What difference does that make?" Misty asked.

"Well, it makes sense to surmise that if you were stripped nude in class, it happened because someone wanted it to happen."

"But why would that happen?" Misty asked. "How could anyone do that?"

"That's a mystery to me. Just tell me this, if anyone wanted it to happen, who would that be?"

Misty thought for a moment.

"Well, all of the boys that sat near me seemed to like what happened," Misty said.

Donald nodded.

"Any of them in particular?"

Misty shook her head.

"I don't see how it matters anyway. How could anyone explain what happened?"

"That's a question I doubt can ever be answered," Donald said, as he rested his hand on Misty's leg.

"What are you doing?" Misty asked.

"Sorry?" Donald asked.

Misty shook her leg, trying to move it out from under Donald's hand.

"Your hand is on my leg," Misty said.

"I'm sorry," Donald said, removing his hand. "Just not every day I have such a pretty girl in my car, that's all."

Misty crossed her legs and grabbed her elbows. She began to wonder if she had made the right decision in entering this man's car.

Donald kept his hands on the steering wheel, but found it difficult to keep his eyes off Misty. He enjoyed how smooth her thigh felt against his hand. He considered touching her again, but didn't want to risk angering her. Misty looked so vulnerable sitting there in the passenger seat, with his coat wrapped snugly around her torso. The coat only covered her down to her hips, so Donald was able to see the side of her butt from where he was seated and enjoyed the sight of that part of her body as well.

"Do you have a boyfriend, Misty?" Donald asked.

"No," Misty said.

"I'm surprised," Donald said. "You're a very attractive girl."

"Thank you," Misty said.

Donald pulled into he driveway of his modest, one-story home. The house was completely surrounded by a high brush, which grew over a chain link fence. The house had an attached two-car garage. Donald pulled into the empty spot in the garage; a blue Sedan occupied the other spot.

"Here we are," Donald said. "Come on inside, I'll show you around."

"Is your wife home?" Misty asked.

"It looks like it, her car is here," Donald said. "Hopefully she won't mind me fitting you with some of her garments."

Donald and Misty stepped out of the car and made their way inside the house.

Donald's home was clean and well organized. Misty admired several paintings that hung on the walls as Donald removed his shoes.

"Would you like some coffee?" Donald asked.

"No thanks, I'd really just like to get dressed if you don't mind," Misty said.

"Of course, I understand," Donald said. "Right this way."

Donald led Misty down the hallway towards the master bedroom. The bathroom door was shut and Misty could hear water running.

"It sounds like Valerie is in the shower," Donald said. "I'll introduce you two when she's finished."

"I hope she doesn't mind me coming here unannounced," Misty said.

"She won't, Valerie enjoys the company of young women," Donald said.

They entered the master bedroom and Donald proceeded to open his wife's dresser drawers.

"I suppose we should start with some undergarments," Donald said, removing a pair of panties and handing them to Misty.

Misty stopped. She wasn't sure about accepting another woman's underwear, although she understood that Donald's wife might not be keen to having her wear her clothes without it. Misty took the panties and slid her legs into them.

Donald began to sort through his wife's brassieres.

"What size bra do you wear, Misty?"

"Oh, it's okay, I don't need a bra," Misty said.

"I insist," Donald said. "Please, what size?"

"38DD," Misty said.

"I'm not sure if Valerie has one in that size," Donald said.

Misty gave a puzzled look.

"What size is she?" Misty asked.

"36B," Donald said. "But she has bras of all sizes."

Donald rummaged through this wife's dresser, examining the labels on each of her bras.

"Oh, does she collect them or something?" Misty asked.

"Here's one," Donald said. "Let's see if this one fits. Take off the jacket please."

Misty removed the jacket and set it onto the bed. Donald stole a glance at Misty's ample breasts as he held out the bra for her to try on.

Misty took the bra and secured it around her breasts.

"I don't get it, why does your wife have different sized bras?" Misty asked.

"Well, we invite young women over quite often," Donald said. "Valerie enjoys playing games with them. Dress up, role-play, things like that."

"Oh," Misty said. "So these clothes-"

Misty stopped in mid sentence, because she heard the water shut off in the bathroom.