Vestiphobia Pt. 04

"I've got it," said Debra. "I heard the whole curse, spoken clearly."

"So you can undo it?" asked Lisa, pulling the jeans off her ankles.

"I think so. I just need a little bit of time to work a couple things out," Debra replied, tapping the back of her pencil on the notepad paper.

"Please hurry," said Lisa, as she carefully placed the skirt she'd taken back on the rack. Without the jeans, she was topless in black panties. "But also be careful and make sure you get it right."

"I'll try my best," Debra said, tearing the page with the spell written on it out of her notebook so she could refer to it while she worked on the reversal.

The boutique was silent but for the soft sound of Debra's pencil on paper. To a normal observer, the store was dark, but Debra saw her paper lit up by the masses of magic residue all around her. She cast her mind back to the lessons she'd had on spell reversal, and worked through the various conjugations.

At last, she lifted her pencil. "Okay, I've worked it out."

Lisa had removed her panties, and was now naked but for her shoes, gloves and balaclava. "That's great," she said, "because even I can't pull off this outfit. Nude burglar just isn't my look."

Debra cocked her head. "I dunno, Lis, you should give yourself a bit more credit."

Lisa put a hand to her hip, and then struck a pose, like she was reaching for a high window, her gloved fingers curling like cat's claws.

"You make it work," said Debra.

"Thanks, but let's get on with the spell reversal now."

Debra nodded sagely and pulled the bottle of magic steroids from her bag. She opened it up, made a face, and then downed it. "Uurgh," she whispered. "That was disgusting, but I'm ready now. Come closer."

Lisa stepped towards Debra, and Debra began chanting. She put her hand on Lisa's shoulder as her face contorted in unnatural syllables of the curse reversal spell. Her eyes glowed the same blue as the magical steroid liquid, and the glow slowly spread to her face, down her neck, and out of the hand that rested on Lisa's bare shoulder.

Lisa felt a warmth as the glow enveloped her. All of her stress and discomfort evaporated at once. She forgot that she and Debra had broken into a clothing boutique in the middle of the night. She forgot the sweaty heat, the horrible constriction of being confined in those tight black clothes, the battle between her desire to stay clothed and the sheer intolerability of doing so. She felt warm, and safe, and comfortable, as though she was taking a luxurious bath. In fact, she was almost comfortable enough to fall asleep...

And then she wasn't. All of a sudden, the pleasant warmth turned hot, and Lisa stifled a scream. Her eyes shot open, and she looked directly into Debra's, which were wide with the same horror she felt. The blue glow around them had turned a harsh red color, and Debra had stopped chanting. The knuckles of her hand were white, and she dug her nails into the flesh of Lisa's shoulder.

"W-what's going on?" cried Lisa, "Debra, that hurts!"

The red glow blinked off, and Debra's grip released. Lisa was left in total darkness.

"Debra?"

There was no response.

Lisa put her arms out, but Debra was no longer standing in front of her. She looked around frantically, squinting in the darkness, but could see no sign of her friend. Where could she have gone? Lisa stepped forward to look for her, and her foot brushed against denim fabric.

Lisa crouched down and picked up the fabric. Bad idea: the shock of its touch instantly jolted her and made her drop it. "Fuck!"

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, Lisa realized that she'd just tried to pick up Debra's jeans, which were lying alongside the rest of her clothing in a heap on the floor. She could smell sulfur, and a faint plume of smoke rose from the pile.

"Debra!" she shouted, immediately clapping her hand over her mouth as her voice rang out in silent dark.

Then there came another shout, from somewhere further away. A man's voice, harsh and gruff. There was more shouting, and the sound of heavy footfalls, and barking dogs. Lisa turned her gaze to the entrance of the boutique, and saw the beams of flashlights dance in the dark. Debra was gone, and she was caught.

Lisa's nudity now seemed like the least of her problems.

* * *

Chapter Eleven: Unleashed

She couldn't allow herself to panic and freeze up. Right now, Lisa had to act. Unless she wanted to be arrested for breaking and entering, she had to move. Could they also charge her with public indecency? Best not to find out.

Lisa grabbed the bag that Debra had been carrying and used it to scoop up her disappeared friend's clothes, as well as her own. No time to think about what had happened to Debra. The canvas didn't trigger any reaction when Lisa touched it, so clearly the lightning shock only applied to clothes. Although, if she were to cut a couple of holes in the bottom...

"Mmph!" Lisa stifled a cry as the canvas suddenly became too hot to touch. Had the curse advanced that quickly? No, it had been her thoughts. She remembered the cardboard box in the alley.

"It's just a bag," Lisa whispered to herself. "I'm going to use it to carry things. It's not an outfit. I'm not going to wear it."

She steeled herself and reached out to touch the canvas again. It felt fine. Totally normal.

"Phew," she said, as she finished scooping up the clothes. "Now to get out of here."

Lisa slung the bag over her shoulder and tiptoed towards the entrance of the boutique. Slowly, carefully, she peeked around the corner. She could still hear footsteps and see flashlights, but they were on the lower floor of the mall. The security guards, or police, or whoever they were, were conducting a thorough search, and they hadn't yet reached her level, let alone the boutique. But it wouldn't take them long.

Heart pounding, Lisa advanced out of the boutique entrance and into the open hallway. The mall was large and spacious, so she pressed herself against the window of the boutique. The glass was cool against her bare ass.

Then, slowly and carefully, she pulled the boutique door closed. Lisa had picked up everything they'd left inside, and she could see no signs of disturbance--they certainly hadn't stolen anything.

Luckily, the boutique door locked automatically when shut--just like her dorm room door. Lisa remembered how terrified she'd been when Wendy had stolen her towel and made her streak back to her room. Her current predicament made that look like a walk in the park.

The flashlight beams disappeared, heading deeper into the mall. So they weren't coming upstairs just yet. Relieved, Lisa pulled herself away from the wall and into the main walkway.

A beam reappeared, shining up onto the walkway from the lower level. It glanced over her, then immediately returned. Momentarily, she locked eyes with a security guard, standing on the lower level, looking up at her. His mouth hung open.

Lisa sprinted across the hallway and towards the fire escape, holding tightly to the canvas bag. She heard confused shouts from below, and pumped her legs even harder.

She skidded around the corner and through the metal fire escape door, then down the metal stairs, taking two at a time. Then she was out in the cold night. The breeze chilled her bare skin.

But she was still on the mall's grounds, could still hear the shouting and barking dogs. She needed distance. That was the only thought on her mind as she ran through the parking lot, and out towards the street.

Out on the main street, the streetlamps shone brightly. A car zoomed passed, and Lisa crouched down and slunk back. They hadn't seen her, or at least, hadn't cared to stop. But the street was too bright, too exposed. Lisa crouched low, hung towards the facades of the downtown buildings, and continued her frantic run.

She zigzagged down the streets, keeping low to the ground and out of the traffic lights, only stopping once she was certain she had gone far enough way from the mall. But she still felt exposed, endangered, and so she ducked through a nice, dark alleyway, far from her pursuers and any prying eyes.

It then occurred to her that a dark alleyway in the middle of the night was, in all probability, a much worse place for a naked young lady than a brightly lit downtown street.

She heard a scream from deeper in the alley, only confirming her fears. Her blood ran cold, and she dropped the canvas bag to her side.

"Help! Thief!" came a shrill woman's voice from deeper in the alley.

Then there was the sound of running footsteps, and a black shape barreled towards Lisa, who still stood frozen in fear.

The shape collided with Lisa and... recoiled back. Lisa stood firm, shocked as a black-clothed man, who had at least a foot on her in height, and was almost twice as wide, seemed to bounce off her. Like her, he had a balaclava over his head, so she couldn't see his face, but she imagined it was just as shocked as hers. Perhaps even more so, given her nudity.

After standing for a moment, stunned, the man let out an angry roar, and ran at Lisa again. She put up her arms in defense to shield her face, and shut her eyes. As her arms shot up, she felt something contact her fists. Then... nothing.

When Lisa opened her eyes again, the man was splayed out on the floor. The lady's bag he had been carrying in front of him lay at his side. He was completely motionless. All Lisa could do was stare. Had she done that? Lisa, the naked superhero!

Heels clicked against concrete, first cautiously, then with increased confidence as the bag's owner approached it, and quickly snatched it back up. It was an older lady, though one with a fairly robust frame, dressed in evening-wear. Several strands of hair had escaped her up-do, and her makeup was somewhat smudged, but otherwise she looked fine. Her face was a stern mask of composure. Lisa locked her gaze for a moment.

The woman looked Lisa up and down, and then whacked her in the face with her bag. "Disgusting!" she shrieked, before hurriedly disappearing around the corner. "Put some clothes on!"

By the time Lisa regained her composure, the woman was long gone. The purse thief was still out cold at her feet, but Lisa thought better of waiting for him to wake up. Her face still smarting from the impact of the lady's bag, she picked up her own bag and scampered out of the alley and down the street.

Lisa found a quieter alley to take stock of her situation. The encounter with the thief was confusing, but it had assuaged some of her fears about her current situation. Whatever had happened there, she could probably make it happen again if she needed to.

But what had happened there? Going over it again in her mind, it seemed as though she'd been able to inadvertently body-slam and then punch out a large man. What's more, she'd managed to run full tilt with barely any breaks from the boutique, down her crazy winding path, all the way to this alleyway without even needing to catch her breath. And furthermore, she was outside naked in the middle of night, and could barely feel the cold.

Lisa thought back to the Fresher's Streak, and how she'd performed so much better than any race she'd been in before. She cast her mind back to Shelly's experiments with temperature, and how comfortable she'd felt in the nude when Shelly's teeth were chattering beneath multiple layers. Ever since she'd started living life this way, her focus had been on how uncomfortable she felt in clothes, and how to reduce that. But now she was noticing the opposite--how very comfortable and strong she felt in the nude. Was this some unintended consequence of the curse?

Just then, a car sped by, and Lisa instinctively dove behind a dumpster. Unintended positive consequences or not, she didn't fancy giving a show to random strangers. Her body was hers, to show to who she wanted to show it to, and no-one else. Well, as few people as possible, at any rate.

Lisa noticed an almost-intact full-length mirror behind the dumpster. Her face still hurt from the lady's bag, and she wondered if it had left a mark. She picked up the mirror and moved it nearer to the mouth of the alley, placing it in a spot where it caught some light from a streetlamp.

Looking at herself in the mirror, she realized at once why the lady had hit her. With her gloves and balaclava, she looked like she might have been the purse snatcher's accomplice. His kinky accomplice, given the rest of her attire. Far from a naked superhero, she looked like a naked criminal. Debra was right, it was a look she could definitely pull off. And also not immediately need to literally pull off.

Another positive side effect of the curse, then: her body was looking really good. She had no tan-lines. Her arms and legs were smooth and toned. Her breasts were firm and round, firmer than they'd ever been with a bra. Her stomach was flat with just a hint of muscle. Her hips and butt were full and voluptuous. Some of this may have been true before, and had revealed itself through many hours of mirror watching, with no clothes to hide behind, but some was new. She stood up straighter now, and felt fitter than she ever had before.

Lisa sighed, wishing she could take all of these new benefits back to her old life, where she was able to wear clothes. Then she pulled off her balaclava and let her long blonde hair fall about her face. This was the first item of clothing she had been truly happy to remove in a long time. She shook her hair out, and then neatened it up with her hands. Her face was red and had some marks on it from the fabric, but otherwise looked fine. The bag hadn't done any permanent damage.

Not wanting to look like a naked criminal anymore, Lisa dropped her balaclava in the canvas bag and did the same with her gloves. If the policeman at the mall had had a good look at her, they would probably be searching for a naked woman wearing a balaclava and gloves. A naked woman in just shoes probably wasn't enough of a disguise to throw them off, but it was what Lisa had to work with. Better to look like a poor, lost victim than some kind of kinky criminal. Although carrying around a bag full of clothes might reduce the plausibility of any victim narrative.

Lisa chuckled darkly at the sight of herself in the mirror. Here she was, carrying around two full outfits, unable to wear either of them.

But there was something else in the bag she could use. Namely, Debra's phone. She gripped the canvas of the bag such that she was also holding most of the clothes, and started shifting things around. She was using the bag as a glove--don't think "glove" that's an item of clothing--as a mitt to manipulate its contents without touching them. With a bit of finagling, she positioned Debra's jeans such that the top of the waistband was facing the opening of the bag. Then, she turned the bag over and carefully shook it, keeping the opening close to the ground.

Debra's pink panties fell out. Alarmingly, they were singed.

After a few more shakes, Debra's phone clattered to the ground. Lisa picked it up, but it was dead. Either the battery had died, or it had been damaged in whatever crazy magic reaction had taken Debra away. What was that about anyway? Lisa hoped that Debra was safe. Or, at the very least... alive.

Despite constant mashing of the phone's side buttons, it refused to come on. It didn't look permanently damaged. But on the other hand, Lisa was sure Debra had charged it just before they'd left. She'd reminded her, seeing as it was the only phone between them. Lisa was still waiting on the insurance replacement for the phone she'd lost in the botanical gardens. Her parents hadn't been happy about that.

Here was the situation: Lisa was naked and stranded in the middle of town, far from her dorm room, with a bag of clothes she couldn't wear and a phone she couldn't use. If she could charge the phone, and it turned out not to be broken, she would be able to call Shelly and get some help. A rideshare, at least, though she didn't relish the prospect of spending thirty minutes sitting naked in a stranger's car. And then there would be the matter of getting back to her dorm. Still, it was better than her current situation.

But how would she charge the phone? She couldn't exactly waltz into a gas station and ask if someone had a spare cable. Not without attracting a lot of unnecessary attention and a possible indecent exposure charge. Actually, just thinking of the "clever" lines she'd have to hear about charging cables from greasy truckers made the whole thing deeply unappealing.

Alternatively... there was her parents' house! Of course! Back in high school, she'd often taken her bicycle from home to the mall. It was on one of those occasions that she'd taken the dare from Stephanie that resulted in her being cursed. She'd gone a bit off track now, in her efforts to the lose her pursuers, but she was still pretty close to the mall, and could definitely find her way home from here. What's more, she had a secret way of opening her bedroom window from the outside.

That was it, then. She'd go to her parents' house. Everyone would be asleep, and she'd be able to sneak in. Then she would have options. She could charge Debra's phone and call Shelly.

The only risk was the possibility of her parents noticing she was home. She would have to make something up. And figure out a way to stay in her room. The last thing she wanted was to explain any of this to them. Imagine! Sitting naked at the kitchen table, looking at her mom's worried expression and her dad's forcefully averted gaze, while rattling on about witches and curses. Debra would have to turn her into a frog, and that would be the least of it. Even if she made up some lie about having a disease... no, her parents could never know.

But she couldn't worry about any of that now. She had to figure out how to get home without being seen.

The first thing to do was to ditch the bag. Debra's phone was the only thing she needed from it anyway. After scooping Debra's singed panties back into the bag, Lisa tied its handles together and tossed it into the dumpster. Being forced to abandon perfectly good clothes was one of the worse things about this curse.

Lisa took a last look at herself in the mirror, tidied up her hair, and then set off in the direction of her parents' house.

In the distance, she could hear sirens.

* * *

Chapter Twelve: Unworn

Rubber bounced off paving as Lisa ran across empty city streets under the cover of darkness, clutching a dead phone in her right hand. Apart from the black running shoes on her feet, she was entirely naked. The movement of her unsupported breasts and the feel of the breeze on her skin kept her quite conscious of this. Her dirty blonde hair streamed out behind her pale body, and her light blue eyes scanned the street ahead for trouble.

A couple of times, she had had to duck out of the way of oncoming cars, praying they wouldn't notice her. Her prayers had been answered, and she was making good progress towards her parents' house, where she would be able to charge Debra's phone and use it to contact Shelly. Then she could get out of this mess, hopefully without her parents knowing she'd even been there. The last thing she needed was to have to explain why their daughter had been engaged in a night-time city streak, or why she couldn't wear any of the clothes in her wardrobe.

As Lisa was coming up to the corner of a block, a massive clothesrack wheeled in front of her. With a short, sharp cry, she ran head-first into a wall of fabric.

"Hey! What the hell?" shouted a high-pitched, but recognizably male voice.

"My work! My precious work!" shouted another, very similar voice. "Please, be careful!"

The fabric burned against Lisa's skin, and she felt shockwaves all across her body. She had to bite her lip so as not to cry out. Desperate to escape the pain, she batted at the sleeves and tassels and other lengths of fabric that assaulted her, stumbling backwards.