Valerie felt a cold creeping sensation. Where did her clothes go?
With a sneaking suspicion, she went to her dresser to look for panties. It wasn't empty --- but it didn't seem to contain any panties, either. She saw some sort of colourful ribbons, gloves (with and without fingers), and socks ranging from ankle- to thigh-high. But not a single pair of panties, and no bras.
Her mind went numb. Where did her clothes go? What the hell was she supposed to wear to eat breakfast? She stood stunned for a minute.
Experimentally, she took out some thigh-high socks. She tried to wrap it around her boobs. She kept fumbling with it so that it slipping down to her belly, before she could even try tying the ends behind her back, like a tight string sliding around a ball. She couldn't quite make sense of it. She tried putting it between her legs, but something about that felt very, very wrong; as wrong as putting mouldy bread there. With a shudder, she took it away and threw the socks on her bed.
She didn't know what to do. Maybe she could hide herself with a towel? Tentatively, she opened the door to her room, looking for the linen closet. |