Virginia Fearnley was the sweetest, kindest young woman you could imagine. She worked as a sales assistant at a shoe store, but in her spare time she volunteered at a local charity that fed and clothed homeless people. So when she saw the shabby little homeless man, while walking from the shoe store to the car park at the end of a long day, she immediately dug for her purse. She had hoped to offer the man a five-pound note, but her face fell when she found that she did not have nearly that much loose change.
“Here,” she said, emptying her purse into his outstretched hand. “It’s not much, but it’s all I have on me at the moment. I’m sorry.”
The little man smiled as he closed his fist around the money. “That’s quite all right, young lady,” he said in a thick Irish accent. “I appreciate your generosity. Not many people round here give to the homeless, it seems.”
“That’s such a shame,” said Virginia, putting her empty purse back into her bag. She sighed. “This culture’s so materialistic – it’s hard to make people care about the important things.”
“To be sure, to be sure,” nodded the little man. “Well, you have a nice night, young lady.”
Virginia smiled and went on her way. Behind her, the little man reached into the pocket of his faded green jacket and brought out a pinch of sparkling dust, which he tossed after her. Instantly, Virginia’s purse swelled to bursting point as it filled up with pound coins. Virginia’s brow furrowed in puzzlement as she felt her bag suddenly become a little heavier, but, not knowing why or how this could be, she shrugged it off and continued on her way.
Around the next corner she encountered an even shabbier figure – an old gypsy woman with large hoop earrings and a multi-coloured shawl. “Can you spare some change?” the woman croaked at Virginia.
“Oh no! I’m so sorry,” said Virginia guiltily. “I just gave the last of my change to a homeless man just back around the corner.”
The gypsy peered at Virginia’s bag, as if trying to see through it. “Liar!” she spat. “If you’re too mean to give money to the poor, at least be honest about it.”
“I swear to you!” said Virginia, taken very much aback. “I haven’t a penny on me!”
“There you go again!” said the old woman, shaking her head in disgust.
“I’ll show you!” said Virginia, unzipping her bag and pulling out her purse. “Oh my God!”
The old woman cackled. “Forgot you had that, did you?” she said. “Don’t insult me! I may be old but I’m not stupid.”
Virginia’s cheeks burned with embarrassment as she stared at the coins filling her purse. “I … I don’t know what to say,” she said. “I have no idea how…” Then she squealed as an errant gust of wind flipped up the hem of her calf-length skirt. It rose to mid-thigh before she managed to push it down.
The old woman chuckled. “Ashamed to show your legs, eh?”
“No,” said Virginia, blushing.
“Another lie!” said the gypsy. “Very well – I have the perfect punishment for all your lies. I’m putting a curse on you! From now on, whenever you lie, your skirt will get shorter.”
“Hey, don’t do that!” said Virginia, alarmed.
“It’s done,” said the gypsy with a grin. “And don’t even think about wearing shorts under your skirts – or about wearing trousers instead of skirts. You will not enjoy the consequences!”
“But – by how much will it shorten?” asked Virginia.
“Depends on the size of the lie,” said the old woman. “And the length of the skirt. Now, be off with you!”
Dismayed, and not quite sure whether to believe in the gypsy woman’s curse or not, Virginia continued on her way. By the time she had reached her car, she had come to a decision: she would not tell any lies. Whether or not the curse was real, it was a good practice.
Back at home, she put some leftover pizza in the microwave, and called her boyfriend, Stan. “You want to come over this evening?” she asked.
“I have work to do – sorry.”
“Okay,” she said, a little disappointed. “How was your day?”
“Fine thanks. Yours?”
“It was okay,” she replied. “The weirdest thing happened after I left work, though.” She told him what had happened.
“Ginny, she was just an old loony. Don’t lose any sleep over it.”
“I’ll try not to,” said Virginia dubiously. “But what if the curse was real?”
”If you’re really worried about it, give it a try. Put on some old skirt you don’t mind shrinking, and tell a lie.”
“That’s a good idea,” she said. “Hold on a minute.”
She hurried through to her bedroom and slipped out of her skirt. Opening her wardrobe, she pulled out a long brown skirt that she had never really liked. Putting it on, she said, “Okay, I’m ready. What do you suggest for a lie?”
Anything! Say you’ve got brown eyes.”
“I do have brown eyes,” she said in puzzlement.
”Really? I thought they were blue. Sorry. Okay, say you have blue eyes.”
“I have blue eyes,” said Virginia, peering down to look at the hem of her skirt. Instantly, it rose up from just above her ankles to just below her knees. “Oh my gosh!” she exclaimed. “It happened! It really happened!”
“What? You’re joking, right?”
“No! My skirt just shortened by a foot!” The skirt suddenly shortened again, its hem now above her knees. “Oh no! It happened again! What the heck? It’s now above my knees!”
“I’m coming over,” said Stan. “Bugger my workload.”
Ten minutes later he was at her door. She let him in, by now wearing her previous skirt.
“I want to see this for myself,” he said. “Tell another lie.”
“Not in this skirt,” she said. “But look what happened to this one!” She handed him her shortened brown skirt.
He looked it over. “Yes, but this doesn’t tell me anything,” he said. “Put it on again and tell another lie.”
“Stan, I’m not sure I’m comfortable doing that in front of you,” she said. “I mean, we’ve only slept together once, and…” The truth was, she was still a little body-shy around him.
Stan chuckled. “Your skirt just got shorter,” he said.
Appalled, Virginia looked down at the skirt she was wearing. This was one of her favourites, but now it was about six inches shorter than it had been a moment ago. “Oh no!” she cried.
“We’ve slept together twice,” Stan corrected her, amused. “We’ve only had sex once.”
“Oh my goodness!” said Virginia. “The curse really takes me literally!”
“You’d better be careful what you say, then,” said Stan. He regarded her hemline with a thoughtful air. “Do you remember when we had sex?”
Virginia blushed. “Yes of course,” she said. “It was wonderful.”
Stan’s face clouded over as her skirt shrank to knee-length. “I guess not!” he said with a frown. “So you weren’t happy with the size of my penis after all, eh?”
“I was perfectly happy with it!” said Virginia fearfully, and then she gasped as her hemline climbed to four inches above her knees.
“You think I have a small penis!” he accused her.
“No!” she protested, but her skirt betrayed her by climbing another three inches. It was now above mid-thigh – a length she would never wear by choice. She squealed and reached down in a futile attempt to tug her skirt down over her knees.
“I suppose it’s because you didn’t want to hurt my feelings,” said Stan, “but even so!” He thought for a moment. “Last week, when I asked if you wanted to have sex again, you said you were on your period. Was that true?”
Virginia wretchedly tugged downwards on the hem of her skirt as she tremblingly said, “Yes?” Her hands were forced upwards with the hem of her skirt as it climbed another three inches. It was now not just a miniskirt, but a microskirt. She turned and fled into the living room, but Stan followed her.
“And the time that we did have sex – you said that was your first time. Was it?” he asked.
“Yes!” she cried in relief. Her skirt stayed the same length.
Stan nodded, satisfied. “And do you really love me, like you keep saying?”
Virginia’s stomach knotted. “Yes … yes of … of course I love you,” she said falteringly.
Her hemline shot upwards five inches, and she squealed as her white panties came into view. Stan stared at them stonily for a few seconds, then he turned on his heel and walked out.
“Stan!” cried Virginia, forgetting her modesty for a moment in her distress. “Wait – please!”
She caught up with him at the front door, but as he opened it he turned around. “Liar!” he said. Then he stormed off to his car.
With tears running down her cheeks, Virginia watched him drive away. Then she suddenly noticed a group of teenaged boys, frozen in the middle of their game of street football, staring with interest at her panties. She shrieked and fled indoors.
*******************************
For work the next day, she put on a different skirt. This one was ankle-length, but light and flowing to suit the warm weather. Her boss, Dave, greeted her with a tight smile. She got on okay with Dave, but found him a little intimidating. He had a tendency to bark at his staff – fortunately she was a good employee and had not so far given him cause to bark at her.
The assistant manager, Barney, gave her the creeps. Judging by the bulge in his trousers, which she tried her best to ignore, he seemed to spend all day every day with a partial erection. He was always the first to help any women in short skirts who came into the shop, and would try to look up their skirts as they tried on their shoes. She often heard him boasting to his friend, Duncan, about what he had just seen. Whenever he spoke to Virginia, he talked to her chest, which made her feel very uncomfortable. She had complained to Dave on a couple of occasions, and had heard Dave barking at Barney … but it had not made the slightest bit of difference.
Duncan was nice enough, though his lazy eye was a little distracting. He sometimes complimented her on her clothing or her hair. For a while she had wondered if he was gay, but she had given up on this notion after seeing him eyeing young women in short skirts and pointing them out to Barney.
Trish, the newest staff member, was just out of school and inclined to wear very short skirts to work. Virginia disapproved, but tried to be friendly – Trish, however, was not inclined to make friends and spend a lot of her time sucking up to Dave. She was frequently the object of lewd remarks made by Barney, but she usually either gave him a dirty look or ignored him. The skirts, at any rate, did not get any longer.
“Hi Ginny,” said Barney. “Like my new haircut?”
“Yes, it’s very nice,” said Virginia automatically, before remembering that she must not even tell white lies. She looked down in panic at her skirt – sure enough, the hemline had risen by two or three inches. Glancing around, she did not think anybody had noticed. Her skirt was still at what she considered a decent length, so she was not too worried – but she had to remember not to tell any more lies!
Later that morning, therefore, when a middle-aged woman said to her, “Do these shoes make my ankles look fat?”, she wrestled with her conscience for a full five seconds before giving her reply.
“A little,” she said with an apologetic smile.
The lady looked a little taken aback, but then she shrugged and took off the shoes. Just then a hand grabbed Virginia’s wrist and she found herself being pulled to one side.
“What the hell was that?” demanded Dave. “You can’t tell customers they look fat in our shoes!”
Virginia stammered as she tried to justify herself. “I … I just wanted to sell her a more expensive pair,” she said.
“Oh!” said Dave. He thought about this. “Well that’s not a bad idea … but look! She’s leaving the shop. So much for your big plan!” He sighed. “I suppose you might have pulled it off if I hadn’t taken you aside, but nevertheless – I don’t want to see you telling any more customers they look anything less than fantastic in our products. All right?”
Virginia nodded, and went back to the stand she had been rearranging. As she passed one of the shop’s mirrors, however, she noticed with alarm that her skirt had shrunk again – its hem was now halfway down her calves. Quickly she replayed in her head her conversation with Dave, and realised that she had told him a lie in order to cover for her honesty with the customer. She sighed – not telling lies was harder than she would have thought!
At lunchtime, she called Stan. “Are you still mad at me?” she asked him.
“Yes.”
Her heart sank. “Are we still having dinner at your parents’ tonight?” she asked.
“What’s the point, if you don’t even love me?”
“Stan, I’m so sorry about that. But love is a strong word – I’m very fond of you, but give me time, okay?”
“You shouldn’t say things you don’t mean.”
“I know, I know,” said Virginia fervently. “Especially now. But please give me a chance to make it up to you.”
“All right. Come to dinner, then. I didn’t call Mum to cancel, so she’s still expecting both of us.”
“Great!” said Virginia, relieved. “Thank you. I’ll see you this evening.”
“Just don’t tell them about the gypsy curse, okay? They’re very religious – they’ll freak out.”
“No problem,” she said.
“Love you. Bye.”
“Love you too,” she replied, then she winced. “Bother.”
“Let me guess – your skirt just shrank?”
Virginia looked down at her skirt – it was now knee-length. “Yes,” she said with a sigh. “I’m sorry – it was habit.”
“Bye then.
“Bye,” she said.
When she returned to work, Barney stared at her curiously. “Wasn’t your skirt longer than that this morning?” he inquired.
Virginia blushed. “No – you must be mistaken,” she said.
Barney’s jaw dropped. “Wow!” he exclaimed. “It just got even shorter!”
“Oh no!” Virginia lamented, mentally kicking herself again. She looked down at her skirt – it was now well above the knee.
“How did that happen?” asked Barney in amazement, staring at Virginia’s hemline with unblinking eyes. “More importantly, will it happen again?”
“No!” said Virginia firmly, and then cried out in dismay as her skirt shortened to mid-thigh. “Oh come on!” she exclaimed in frustration.
“So … does it shorten every time you say the word ‘no’ or something?” asked Barney, intrigued.
“No,” said Virginia, annoyed. “It shortens every time I tell a lie.”
“Then by all means keep lying!” said Barney with a grin.
Duncan had overheard this. “Why does your skirt shorten every time you lie?” he asked.
“A gypsy put a curse on me,” muttered Virginia.
“I’m sorry I asked,” said Duncan.
“Did my skirt shorten?” asked Virginia pointedly. “I wasn’t lying then.”
“Well we’ve only got your word for it that it shortens when you lie,” said Barney cunningly. “We need proof.”
“I’m jolly well not about to give you a demonstration!” said Virginia.
“What’s going on?” asked Dave, coming over to investigate. “Good lord – Virginia, whatever have you done to your skirt?”
“I’m sorry!” wailed Virginia. “I didn’t mean for this to happen!”
“A gypsy put a curse on her,” said Barney. “Whenever she tells a lie, her skirt gets shorter.”
“What rubbish!” said Dave with a snort. “Get back to work, all of you, and Ginny – whatever game you’re playing, stop it!”
Virginia whimpered unhappily as she returned to her work. She felt extremely self-conscious about how much leg she was showing, but she tried to ignore her embarrassment and concentrate on doing a good job. At least her skirt was not as short as most of Trish’s. Not yet.
She made it until just after four o’clock without any further shortenings. Then a female customer, trying on a pair of knee-length boots, asked Virginia if they suited her.
Virginia remembered only too well what Dave had said earlier. Looking around, she saw him standing quite close by. He would hear her if she gave her honest opinion – which was that she thought the boots were quite wrong for the customer. But how was she to keep Dave happy without lying?
“Well,” she fumbled, “er, um…”
“They don’t, do they,” said the woman, looking slightly crestfallen.
Virginia saw Dave look up sharply. “Oh absolutely they suit you!” said Virginia firmly. “You look great in them.”
The first lie took two inches off her skirt, and the second took another two. Her skirt was now at least as short as any of Trish’s, just a couple of inches below her buttocks. The woman stared at the shrinking garment in astonishment, as did Dave. Virginia, looking down at her bare legs, squealed in embarrassment and fled to the back room.
She was joined there, a moment later, by Dave. “You can’t just leave a customer like that,” he said. But he was not barking at her – his tone was quite gentle.
“I’m sorry,” she sniffled, “but – well – you saw what happened to my skirt.”
“Yes, I saw,” he said. “And now I suppose I believe in this curse thing. And clearly it’s affecting your ability to do your job.”
Virginia saw where this was going, and she gulped. “Please don’t sack me, Dave – I need this job.”
“But how are you going to do it, if your skirt’s going to get shorter and shorter?” he asked.
“I just need to figure out how to avoid lying,” she said desperately. “Or at least, to keep my lying to a minimum so that my skirt doesn’t disappear before the end of the day.”
“You also need to keep your focus on the customers,” said Dave severely. “I don’t want you running off in a panic because your skirt’s uncomfortably short for you.”
Virginia nodded. “I’ll try my best, Dave.”
“Okay then,” he said. “You keep your job – for the moment. But I’ll be watching you.”
Somehow she made it through the rest of the day without her skirt shrinking any more, but she felt terribly self-conscious and stayed behind the counter with Trish as much as possible. Trish teased her mercilessly about her skirt.
“I never knew you had legs until today, Ginny,” she said. “I think Barney’s quite taken with your new look – he told me he wants to help you try on some new shoes.”
Virginia shuddered. “Great, that’s all I need,” she muttered, as Trish snickered.
Barney, for his part, kept trying to get Virginia to lie. “How old are you?” was his first, most blatant attempt.
But Virginia was not yet old enough to lie about her age. “Twenty-two,” she said. “Why?”
“Oh – just wondering,” he replied, disappointed.
At five minutes to five, however, he managed to catch her out, albeit unintentionally, as she was fetching a pair of shoes for a customer. “Are those for the fat woman?” he asked.
“You can’t say that!” said Virginia indignantly.
“Apparently I can,” Barney smirked, staring at her hemline with lecherous glee.
“Oh gosh!” exclaimed Virginia fretfully, looking down at her skirt. It looked like it had lost another inch or so. Anxiously she felt the back of the skirt – it still covered her buttocks, but not by much.
So, by a hair’s breadth, she managed to leave at the end of the day with her modesty intact. She went home, showered, put on a nice dress, made herself up, fixed her hair, and then drove to Stan’s parents’ house. She was greeted warmly.
“Hello dear,” said Mrs Carey. “We’re so glad you could come. Stan isn’t here yet, so why don’t you go and have a seat in the living room?”
“Thank you Sandra,” said Virginia. She went through and took a seat. A moment later, Stan’s father entered.
“Hello Ginny,” said Mr Carey. “How’s things?”
“Fine thank you, Ted,” said Virginia. “How are you?”
“Not so bad, not so bad,” said Ted, nodding. “The old bladder’s giving me a bit of bother, but otherwise I’m pretty well.”
“Good,” said Virginia, with a slightly forced smile.
“We’re having lamb for dinner – do you like lamb?”
Virginia did not like lamb much, but she could not possibly say so. Hoping this would be the only time she would have to lie tonight, she said, “Yes – I like lamb very much.” As she spoke, she quickly got to her feet so as to disguise the fact that her dress was shortening. Then of course she realised she would have to come up with a reason for having got to her feet. Spotting a rather unattractive abstract painting hanging on the far wall, she made her way over to it. “This is an interesting painting,” she began, then she kicked herself and hoped that Ted had not noticed a change in the length of her dress. She did not dare check herself, but she was sure it had shortened by several inches already.
“Yes, it’s one of my favourites,” said Ted, getting to his feet and coming over to stand next to her. “Lovely use of texture. Can you see the baby?”
“I’m sorry?” said Virginia.
“In the picture – there’s a little newborn baby. Keep looking and you’ll see it.”
Virginia looked, and looked, but she could not see a baby.
“It’s right there,” said Ted, pointing. “See?”
Still she did not see. But she could sense that Ted was getting a little impatient, so she said, “Oh yes! I see – right there. Wow, that’s really cool.”
Ted smiled, pleased. “I have some more by the same artist upstairs,” he said. “Would you like to see them?”
The thought filled her with anxiety, but she said, “Yes, I’d like that.” She knew she was lying, but she could not help it – she was just too polite.
“Excellent,” said Ted. “Follow me, then.”
As he walked out of the room ahead of her, she quickly bent over to check on her dress. It was already above the knee, she noted with a heavy heart. It was only a matter of time before one or other of Stan’s parents noticed.
She thought quickly as she looked at another painting. “Ah,” she said. “Tell me about this one.”
Gratified, Ted began on a history of the artist and of the creation of this particular work, requiring only nods and occasional comments such as “Really?” and “I see”. Before Ted was done, Virginia heard voices downstairs. “Oh, that sounds like Stan,” she said.
“Ah – good,” said Ted. “Well, I’m sure supper’s nearly ready, so I suppose we’d better go downstairs.”
“Thank you very much for sharing your art knowledge with me,” said Virginia. She almost added “It was very interesting”, but caught herself just in time.
“You’re very welcome,” said Ted, flattered.
Supper was going pretty well until Sandra asked Virginia how she was enjoying her lamb. Not knowing how to tell the truth and still be polite, she said, “It’s delicious!”
A few minutes later, Ted was talking about church. “Which church do you attend, Ginny?” asked Sandra.
Sandra had not been to church since Christmas, but she hoped her reply of “St Patrick’s, on Dean Street” would not be considered a lie.
“Ah yes, I know it,” said Ted. “Is Mark Woodford still the rector there?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know,” confessed Virginia. “I haven’t been for a while.”
“Didn’t you used to have a crush on him?” teased Stan.
“No,” said Virginia, embarrassed. Then she grimaced, thinking of her dress shrinking under the table. “Well, perhaps a little one.”
“Would you like some more lamb, Ginny?” Sandra asked.
“No thank you,” said Virginia, hoping she could escape another lie.
“Leaving room for pudding, eh?” said Ted. “Can’t say I blame you. Sandra’s puddings are second to none.”
“Oh hush,” said Sandra, smiling. “It’s just a plain old sherry trifle.”
Virginia’s heart sank – she couldn’t stand trifle. If she had some, and Sandra asked if she liked it, she would have to lie. “Actually,” she said, “I’m pretty full. I don’t think I could manage any trifle.” Then she bit her lip, realising she had just lied twice. If only she had kept her mouth shut!
“Oh nonsense, dear,” said Sandra. “It’s very light – you’ll hardly notice it. Unless – you don’t like trifle?”
Virginia’s hand crept under the table to check on the length of her dress. It was already halfway up her thighs, but she had backed herself into a corner now. “No, I like trifle – I’m just full,” she said, trying not to sound as wretched as she felt. Her hem was almost up to crotch-level. There was obviously no way now that she would be able to avoid an embarrassing scene in which she would have to explain the shortness of her dress.
Might as well be sooner as later, she thought to herself. “I’d better go,” she said, getting to her feet. “My dress seems to have shrunk over dinner.”
Sandra and Ted stared at her. Their eyes flicked from her face to her panties, which were peeping below the hem of her dress, and back again. “What on Earth?” said Ted. He looked underneath the table for the rest of her dress. “What happened to it?”
“For some reason,” said Virginia, mindful of Stan’s request that she not mention the gypsy’s curse, “my dresses and skirts seem to be shrinking while I’m wearing them.”
Stan rolled his eyes. “It happens whenever she lies,” he said. “I’m guessing she’s been telling a pack of them over dinner.”
“I’m sorry!” said Virginia, getting upset. “Sandra, you’re a wonderful cook, but I’m afraid I really don’t like lamb. Or trifle. But how could I say so?”
“Wait a minute,” said Ted. “Your dress shrinks every time you lie? Whyever should that be?”
“I don’t know,” said Virginia, shrugging.
Ted and Sandra both gasped as two more inches of Virginia’s panties were revealed.
“So you do know,” said Ted. “But apparently you don’t want to tell us.”
Virginia clasped her hands together in front of her panties. “Well, Stan doesn’t want me to tell you why.”
Stan shrugged as his parents turned to him. “She reckons a gypsy put a curse on her.”
Sandra gasped, and Ted frowned. “Is this true?” he asked Virginia.
“Yes,” said Virginia, then sighed as both Ted and Sandra stared at her hemline to see if it moved.
“Well this is most unsettling!” said Ted. “For how long is this ‘curse’ supposed to last?”
“I don’t know,” said Virginia. “The gypsy woman didn’t mention a time limit. For all I know, it’s permanent.”
“Oh, I don’t like this at all,” said Sandra.
“Neither do I,” said Ted. “But it strikes me that this ‘curse’, if that’s what it is, could be useful. Virginia, please repeat after me: ‘God exists’.”
Virginia’s jaw dropped. “You want to figure out whether or not there’s a God, based on whether my skirt gets shorter or not?”
“There’s no doubt in my own mind,” said Ted, “but this would help to convince other people, I’m sure. I just want to see what happens.”
“But what will it prove? Since I believe in God, it wouldn’t be a lie if he didn’t exist and I said he did, right? Lies are deliberate untruths!”
“Are you sure that the curse is that specific?” asked Ted.
“We can always test it,” said Stan. He got up and went over to a bureau in the corner. When he returned he was carrying a deck of cards. He pulled off the top card and held it up to Virginia. “Remember this card but don’t tell me what it is,” he said.
“Okay…” said Virginia suspiciously. It was the three of clubs.
Stan replaced the card, then placed the deck on the table in front of him. Taking the top card again, he placed it in front of Virginia. “All right,” he said. “Now hold up the card with its face towards me and Dad, and announce what it is.”
“What will this prove?” asked Virginia, puzzled.
“Maybe nothing,” said Stan. “Just do it.”
Virginia sighed, then she picked up the card, held it towards Ted and Stan, and said, “This is the three of clubs.” She looked down at her dress, and sure enough, it was the same length as before.
“Bother,” said Ted.
Stan nodded. “Look at the card, Ginny.”
Ginny turned it over, and raised her eyebrows in surprise. It was the ten of hearts. “How…?” she began.
“Simple card trick,” said Stan. “Sleight of hand. The important thing is, you were right – we can’t use your curse to prove God exists.”
“That’s all very well,” said Sandra, “but what’s the poor girl to do? She can’t go through life never telling any lies – she’ll offend everybody!”
“Thank you!” said Virginia, grateful that somebody understood her dilemma.
Stan shrugged. “I don’t know – and frankly, I don’t care. I found out yesterday that Ginny doesn’t love me … and … other stuff she’d been lying about – so I really can’t see much of a future in our relationship.”
Virginia could hardly believe her ears. “You’re dumping me?” she said. “Now? Here? At dinner with your parents?”
“Yes – that’s a bit harsh, son,” said Ted. “Curse or no curse, she deserves better than that.”
Stan got to his feet. “Then you date her, Dad. I really have nothing more to say to her.” He pushed back his chair, then stalked out of the room.
“Well dear, I’m sorry about that,” said Sandra. “But it’s probably for the best. I mean, if you didn’t love him…”
Virginia swallowed, and tried not to let her lower lip tremble. “That’s all right. Thank you for your hospitality, and kind words. I’ll … I’ll be off, then.”
“Take care,” said Ted. “I hope you manage to lift that curse.”
“Thanks,” said Virginia. “Bye then.”
With tears starting from her eyes, she hurried to the front door and let herself out. As she drove home, single once again, she could hardly have felt more miserable.
*******************************
The next morning, she picked out another long skirt. She was going to have to buy more – she only had two left that had not yet suffered any shrinkage, and she was not especially keen on either of them. She did not dare to wear a pair of trousers, after the gypsy woman’s warning, and although she was longing to wear shorts under her skirt, she stuck with panties for the same reason.
Her first lie slipped out only ten minutes after she had arrived. Barney cornered her, grinning from ear to ear. “So how was your evening,” he asked.
“It was fine,” she said, not wanting to talk about her embarrassing experience at Stan’s parents’ house.
Barney doubled up with laughter. “I guess it wasn’t, though!” he said, pointing at her hemline.
“Oh bother!” said Virginia crossly. “All right, it was lousy! Are you happy now?”
“Why, what happened?” asked Barney, still grinning.
“It’s none of your business!” snapped Virginia.
“Didn’t you say you were having dinner with your boyfriend?” asked Barney. “How did that go?”
“Badly, obviously,” said Virginia. “Now leave me alone.” She turned and walked over to a display of sandals that needed rearranging.
Barney followed her. “So, I’m guessing your skirt shrank in front of them?”
“Yes!” said Virginia. “Go away!”
“How short did it get?” asked Barney. “Short enough for them to see your knickers?”
“No it did not!” she exclaimed hotly.
Barney laughed. “It did!” he said. “This is great, Ginny – keep lying to me!”
“You’re an arsehole,” she said, turning her back on him.
“Apparently not!” he cried delightedly, pointing at her hem, which was now on a level with the tops of her knees.
“Ugh!” Virginia stormed off in annoyance and frustration. She soon ran into Dave. “Dave,” she said, “would you please have a word with Barney? He keeps making my skirt shrink!”
Dave looked puzzled. “How is he doing that?”
“He’s making me lie!” she said.
“Okay…” said Dave slowly. “Again – how is he doing that?”
“By asking me awkward questions!”
“You don’t have to answer, surely?” said Dave.
“Well no, but…”
“Ginny,” said Dave, “this is your problem. If you can’t handle it, then clearly you’re no longer cut out for this job.”
“I can handle it!” Virginia assured him earnestly. “But, you know, a little help would be nice…”
“Like I said,” said Dave grimly, “it’s your problem.” With that he turned and marched off.
With a sigh, Virginia returned to her work, but it was not long before Barney was bothering her again.
“Have you ever fancied another woman?” he asked her suddenly.
“What?” said Virginia, startled. Then she frowned. “I’m not going to answer that!” she said firmly.
“Aha! So you have!” he cried triumphantly.
“No I haven’t!” said Virginia. She turned crimson as Barney burst out laughing again, and she glanced down at her hemline – now three inches above the knee.
“Who was it?” he asked. “Someone at your school? A teacher perhaps?”
“I’m not telling you,” she said.
And she didn’t. But throughout the morning, Barney kept talking to her and goading her, trying to get her to slip up again. And, thoroughly rattled by his constant interrogation, she slipped up several times, with the result that by lunchtime her skirt was only just barely covering her buttocks.
“I’m going home for lunch,” she said to Duncan, who had come in by this time. “I need to put on a longer skirt.”
“I can see that,” he replied, amused. “Perhaps you should bring a spare with you in future.”
Virginia sighed. “Perhaps I should,” she agreed. “Except that I only have one left now. I have a couple of dresses, but they’re not all that suitable for work.”
“You may not have much of a choice in a couple of days,” observed Duncan.
“I know,” said Virginia. “That’s what’s worrying me. I suppose I should pay a visit to the charity shop.”
She went home and put on her last remaining long skirt. When she returned to the shop, Barney continued his relentless persecution. She was getting wise to some of his tricks, but by five o’clock, only two inches separated her buttocks from her hemline.
“You’re putting me to shame,” said Trish with a chuckle, as they passed each other in the back room.
“Not intentionally!” said Virginia ruefully.
That evening, as she sat at home, alone, watching television, she found she was not missing Stan as much as she thought she would. He had been kind of a jerk, after all – and he really did have a small penis. Perhaps she should look for someone else. Someone kind and loving – someone who would be sympathetic to her problem, and supportive. She sighed – fat chance!
*******************************
The next morning she put on a dress she had bought for a friend’s wedding a couple of years ago. It was quite posh and would look odd in the shoe shop, but it was either this or a slinky evening dress that she had bought on a foolish whim in her student days. She had never worn it.
She took both to work. Barney started working on her the minute she got there, and although she tried to avoid the little traps he set, he was becoming more and more cunning. She had not slept much the night before, so she was tired, and as the morning wore on, her nerves became more and more frazzled. It was impossible to keep her guard up constantly for hours at a time … and so her dress became shorter and shorter, until by eleven o’clock it was only just covering her buttocks. She had resisted the urge to go and change – she wanted to try to make it until lunchtime. One more lie, however, and she would have no choice.
“Hey – Ginny.”
Virginia bit her lip. She was afraid of saying anything at all to Barney now.
“What’s the matter – aren’t you talking to me?” he asked.
“No,” she replied, and then her heart sank as he giggled.
“Nice panties!” he said.
Virginia hurried behind the counter. “I need to go and change,” she said to Trish. She hurried into the back room and unzipped the bag in which she had brought her slinky dress. A minute later she had slipped out of her current dress and into the slinky one. It was black and shiny and was going to look awfully out of place. She had put on a few pounds since she last wore it, and consequently it clung tightly to her hips. Her panty-lines were absurdly visible … so, with a nervous whimper, she pulled up her dress and tugged her panties down. Stepping out of them, she put them in her purse, and then went over to the mirror. Turning around, she realised that the dress showed so much of her back that her white bra was in full view. That would have to come off too. Biting her lip, she slipped the dress off her shoulders, took off her bra, and put it in her purse next to her panties. Then, with her stomach in knots, she went back out into the shop.
“Wow!” said Barney. “You look great!”
“Thanks,” said Virginia, a little flattered despite herself. Then she recovered. “Now leave me alone – please.”
“You took off your underwear?” he asked in astonishment.
“Of course not,” said Virginia, but her blush and her rising hemline gave her away. Now it was up to her knees – the dress had only been a little longer than knee-length to begin with.
“Wow,” said Barney again. “You look incredible. Are you free for dinner on Saturday night?”
“I have plans,” she said shortly.
“No you don’t,” said Barney with a smile, watching her hem rise again. “Come on – I know you just broke up with your boyfriend.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m going to go out with just anyone,” retorted Virginia.
“Please?” said Barney. “What have you got to lose?”
“My dress?” she replied pointedly.
“I’ll tell you what,” he said. “If you agree to go out with me, I promise I won’t try to trick you into lying for the rest of the day.”
This was a tempting offer – she really could not afford to lose many more inches off her last remaining dress. She sighed. “All right,” she said. “Where did you have in mind?”
“The Thai place on Temple Street,” said Barney. “Assuming you like Thai food…?”
“I do, actually,” she said. “Okay – I’ll meet you there at … what time? Seven?”
“Sounds good to me,” said Barney. “Yes!”
Barney, walking on air, left her alone until lunchtime, but even so, Virginia accidentally lied twice more (once to a customer, and once to Dave) before she took her break. Her dress was therefore more than halfway up her thighs by the time she left the shop.
After she had eaten, she went to her favourite charity shop in search of a cheap dress. There was a pitiful selection, as usual, but one dress caught her eye. It was shorter than she usually preferred – just shy of knee-length, perhaps – but it was certainly decent, and it was the nicest thing in the shop. She bought it.
Back at the shoe shop, she inadvertently lied to Duncan when she told him she thought he had handled a difficult customer very well. Then, midway through the afternoon, she told Dave she had nearly finished typing up the work instructions for the new retail software (she was in fact less than half done).
She was desperate to make it through the day without having to change again, but her dress was now less than two inches away from revealing her bare buttocks – and just over three inches away from revealing her naked pussy. A couple of days ago this would have sent her running into the back room in embarrassment, but by now she was getting a little more desensitised to showing her bare legs. And the thought of accidentally lying again, and in doing so revealing her pussy, terrified her – but in a different way than it would have done a few days ago. Now the thought was akin to being terrified by an intense roller-coaster ride, or a particularly scary movie. The prospect made her shiver in fear – and gave her something of an adrenalin rush.
For half an hour she walked around the store, almost revealing her pussy and buttocks despite managing to refrain from lying. Her dress, tight as it was, kept riding up with each step, and it took all her vigilance and diligence to keep herself covered.
Barney kept making lewd remarks (he had promised not to trick her into lying, but had said nothing about keeping his dirty comments to himself), and even Duncan made a couple of off-colour jokes. Trish found this all very funny, but eventually Virginia was annoyed enough to complain to Dave.
“Dave, could you please ask Barney and Duncan to stop commenting on my … state of dress? It’s sexual harassment!”
Dave nodded. “I suppose it is,” he said, “but then again, you’re creating a sexually-charged atmosphere here just by wandering around dressed like that. In fact, you’re inciting Barney and Duncan to break the sexual harassment rules – and that’s an offence in itself. I understand you bought a new dress this afternoon – why don’t you change into it?”
“I was saving it for tomorrow!” she replied. “I’ve got to pace myself – otherwise I’ll have no clothes left!”
“That’s as may be,” said Dave, “but I told you before – if you can’t make this work, then I’ll have to let you go.”
Virginia sighed. “Please don’t do that, Dave.”
“Well, I may have to. I can’t afford for you to sue the shop because of something you might provoke Barney or Duncan into doing. I’m sorry.”
Thoughts of having to find another job, with no decent clothes to wear to the interview, filled Virginia’s head, and she began to panic. “Please don’t sack me, Dave,” she said. “I’ll stop complaining – I promise.”
“Hmm. Are you willing to put that in writing?” asked Dave.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“A statement to the effect that you will not sue the shop or any of its employees for sexual harassment.”
Virginia thought about this. “I suppose I could do that,” she said dubiously.
“Well it’s either that or find yourself another job, at this point,” said Dave.
Virginia nodded. “All right then – draw up a statement, and I’ll sign it.”
Dave smiled. “Good. Now get back to work.”
The shop was beginning to fill with men who had spotted Virginia through the windows and come to investigate. None of them seemed interested in buying anything, but all of them pretended to be looking at shoes while they subtly (or, often enough, not very subtly) stared at Virginia’s legs. This was making Virginia very nervous, but also a little excited. She began to fantasize about accidentally telling another lie, and having all these men see her suddenly-revealed pussy.
Then five o’clock came around, and it was time to leave for the day. Virginia was surprised to find that she was feeling slightly regretful that she had not been tricked into another lie. Nevertheless, she was relieved too.
*******************************
Friday morning saw her enter the shop in her new dress, which was already shorter than knee-length. And she had no other dresses or skirts to change into. She told herself she would be very careful, but deep down she was tingling with anticipation.
Dave approached her in the back room. “Sign this,” he said, handing her a two-page document.
Virginia skimmed through it. There was a lot of legal jargon, but parts of it made her very nervous indeed. Phrases like “I hereby give my consent to sexual teasing or touching that would normally be considered inappropriate in a workplace environment” and “I agree that any sexual advances by colleagues or superiors are induced by my own overtly sexual behaviour” made her wonder what she was letting herself in for, but at the end of the day she needed this job, and so she signed the document.
“Excellent,” said Dave, pleased. “Now get out there and sell shoes.”
As Virginia passed him, he playfully swatted her bottom with a slightly cupped hand. She turned to stare at him, shocked.
“That’s the kind of thing you’ll have to put up with, I’m afraid,” said Dave, smiling. “You’d better get used to it.”
As the morning wore on, Virginia got the distinct impression that Dave had thoroughly apprised Barney and Duncan concerning the contents of the document she had signed. Barney’s comments became even more lewd – at one point he said, “Hey Ginny, why don’t you lie some more and show us your pussy?”
Virginia resigned herself to simply ignoring him – she knew she had signed up for this. What was harder to take was the touching – by eleven o’clock he was copping a feel every time he passed her. Usually it was his hand on her buttock through her dress, but twice he grabbed her breast from behind, and once he actually stuck his hand up her dress and rubbed her pussy briefly through her panties before she managed to pull away. Duncan wasn’t much better – he seemed to be brushing past her an awful lot, and she could feel the bulge in his trousers pressing against her each time.
What made matters worse was that these encounters were making her flustered and unable to concentrate. When a customer asked if half-sizes were available in a particular brand of dress shoe, she said “No” without thinking, only to remember that she had put away a bunch of these shoes earlier, and many of them were half-sizes.
This was just one occasion – there were several others. By lunchtime, her hem was only just covering her buttocks, and she was obliged to go to the charity shop again. Stares and wolf-whistles followed her all the way, and her cheeks burned with embarrassment, while her loins tingled with nervous excitement. In the charity shop, try as she might, she could not find any skirts or dresses that she liked, so she decided to try the department store to see if they had anything on sale.
They did, but even so, everything was far too expensive, given that she would probably be able to wear it for only a few hours. And strangely, none of the longer dresses and skirts that she usually favoured were doing much for her today. She tried on a couple of dresses – one was a rather ordinary black sleeveless dress that came down to her calves, and was reduced in price to £30.00, while the other was a green asymmetric prom-style dress that was on sale at £25.00 and stopped just short of her knees. She favoured the fabric of the former, but preferred the way the latter looked on her. Still, the price … she was very conscious of her overdraft, and hated to throw money down the drain, which is what she would be doing if she bought a dress and then shortened it so much she could not wear it.
Still, what choice did she have? Her buttocks and panties were on the verge of coming into view, and she could not be sure she would not accidentally lie between now and five o’clock. With a sigh, she took the green dress towards the counter.
Then her eye was caught by a stand of miniskirts which were on sale. A sign above the stand bore the words “From just $10.00!” Intrigued, she hunted through the racks and soon found a couple of denim miniskirts which were only £10.00, and a slightly longer turquoise ra-ra skirt which was £11.00. Now if she could find a top as cheap, she would be in business.
She was aware that she was running out of lunch break, but she had a quick hunt around and soon found some short-sleeved tops and t-shirts on sale. The cheapest was just £7.00 – it was a pink V-neck top with a collar. Taking this and the ra-ra skirt to the counter, and dropping off the green dress on the way, she left the shop feeling unaccountably buoyant. After all, the ra-ra skirt would hardly last any time at all … yet it felt good to shop, and it might at least get her through the afternoon.
Back at the shoe shop, she changed into her new outfit. As she turned around, she saw Barney watching her. “Hey!” she exclaimed.
“Nice show,” he said, coming over to her.
“Stay back, Barney,” she said nervously, backing away from him. She met the wall and stopped.
“I’ve got a major thing for you, you know,” he said, stepping forward until he was just inches away from her. He reached up and put a hand on her breast.
“Barney, please don’t,” said Virginia, pushing his hand away from her chest.
He put his other arm around her waist and drew her close, bending down to kiss her. Frightened, she brought her knee up sharply. It connected with his testicles – he groaned and doubled up, backing away and falling over a box. As he writhed on the floor, Virginia made her escape, but as she re-entered the main part of the shop, she spotted Dave across the room, and it occurred to her that he might sack her for injuring Barney. Also, kind soul that she was, she was worried that she might have really hurt him.
She returned into the back room and crouched down by Barney. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Please don’t tell Dave. Are you okay?”
“No!” he groaned.
“Shh!” she said. “Look, can I make it up to you?”
“Sure,” he replied. “Let me feel your pussy.”
“No way!” she hissed. “You try that, and you can forget about our date tomorrow! I’ll … I’ll let you feel my breast – how about that?”
“I already did that,” he muttered.
“I mean my bare breast – I’ll let you put your hand inside my bra,” she said, hardly believing what she was saying.
“Nah,” said Barney. “I’d rather feel your pussy.”
“No!” said Virginia. “Not that!”
“Fair enough,” said Barney, “I’ll just go and tell Dave that you assaulted me. Perhaps I should also go to the police and press charges…”
The thought terrified Virginia. “All right, all right!” she said. “Go on then – feel me up if you must.”
Barney grinned, and reached his hand up her skirt. Pulling the waistband of her panties downwards, he slipped his hand over the top and then ran it down over her pussy, his middle finger settling between her labia. His touch was surprisingly gentle, and as he began making circular motions with his finger pressed against her clitoris, Virginia found herself becoming a little aroused despite herself.
“Does that feel nice?” asked Barney.
“No!” she said, and then grimaced as her skirt shortened by a couple of inches. “All right – yes. You seem … experienced. I wasn’t aware you’d had a girlfriend before.”
“I haven’t,” said Barney. “But I’m very well-read. I know where everything is. For instance…” He slid his hand further down and pushed one finger into her vagina.
“Hey!” she said. “Stop that – I never agreed to … that!”
But by now he had crooked his finger inside her and was rubbing it against her g-spot. “That’s your g-spot, I think,” he said. “Did Stan ever find it?”
“Uh, no,” she said, gasping at his touch. “That … um … mmm … does feel sort of nice…”
After a couple of minutes, she said, “Haven’t … haven’t you had … ahh … enough?”
“Have you?” asked Barney. “Would you like me to stop?”
“Yeh…hess,” she panted. Her skirt shortened again.
“Oh yeah, Ginny, keep lying to me baby,” grinned Barney. “Admit it – you want me to make you cum, right?”
“No!” she protested. Again her skirt shrank.
“What the devil are you two doing back here?” asked Dave, entering the room.
“Oh shit,” said Barney under his breath as he quickly withdrew his hand. “Uh, I tripped and fell – I think I sprained something. Virginia was just checking to see if I was okay.”
“Is that true, Ginny?” asked Dave.
“Er, yes,” said Ginny, quickly getting to her feet in the hope that this would disguise the fact that her skirt was getting shorter.
“Just get back to work, both of you,” said Dave.
Virginia sighed unhappily as she reviewed the damage to her new skirt. She could feel her buttocks peeping just below the hemline at the back. Well, it was just too bad – she did not have time to go and get another skirt. She hurried after Dave. “Dave,” she said, “I’m going to offend customers like this – could I possibly take Trish’s place behind the counter for the rest of the afternoon?”
Dave looked down at her skirt. “Good God, Ginny, have you no control over yourself? Very well – take Trish’s place. But just for today. On Monday, once your skirt gets to this length, you either carry on out here regardless, or you find yourself another job.”
“Thanks Dave!” she said, and she hurried behind the counter.
Trish was only too happy to be relieved from till duty, and she snickered when she saw how short Virginia’s skirt was. “Better not lie any more!” she said.
For the rest of the afternoon, Virginia managed to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth … but this made no difference to Barney, who kept coming up behind her and feeling her bottom while she was dealing with customers. And when she was not dealing with customers, he would sometimes stick his hand between her legs and try to feel her pussy. She would fend him off as well as she could without making a scene, but on a couple of occasions he managed to get his hand inside her panties.
Finally five o’clock rolled around, and Trish came to relieve her at the till. She fetched her things from the back room and then headed for the front door. Barney met her at the entrance. “I’m looking forward to our date tomorrow night,” he said with a smile.
“I’m sure you are,” said Virginia. “Just … try to be a gentleman, okay? Would that kill you?”
A little taken aback, Barney nodded. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll try.”
*******************************
After a very embarrassing run from the shop to the car park, Virginia drove home, and she stayed there all evening and most of the following day, keeping herself and her microskirts well out of sight of the general public. As she got ready for her date with Barney – how had he talked her into this again? – she decided to wear the longest of her skirts. It was dark blue and currently covered her buttocks with two inches to spare. On her top half she wore a very sensible yellow blouse.
She was a little late getting to the restaurant. Barney was waiting outside. “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to come,” he said.
“Sorry,” she said. “Took me forever to fix my hair.” This was true – her wavy brown hair, which came halfway down her back when wet, but ordinarily bounced around her shoulders, was very awkward to manage.
“It looks very nice,” said Barney.
“Thank you,” said Virginia. “Shall we?”
They entered, were seated at a table, and spent some time perusing the menu. “You look beautiful,” said Barney clumsily. “I love your outfit.”
“I’m sure you do,” replied Virginia. “This is now my longest skirt.” She looked him up and down. “I see you made a bit of an effort yourself. You’re looking pretty sharp.”
“Thanks,” said Barney, smiling. “I recommend the Pad Thai, by the way – it’s delicious.”
“I’m not keen on peanuts,” said Virginia. “I think I’ll have the Mee Lad Naa.”
“Are we getting starters?” asked Barney.
“You can if you want,” said Virginia. “I won’t bother.” She was hoping to make the date as short as possible.
“I’ll get some tempura vegetables,” said Barney. “You can have some if you like.”
The waiter came, and they ordered. Barney, to Virginia’s surprise, asked for his Pad Thai with tofu. “You’re a vegetarian?” she asked him.
He nodded. “Yup – for two years now.”
“Why’s that then?” she asked. “Allergies or something?”
“No – it’s an environmental thing,” he said. “As a species we’re consuming resources at an unsustainable rate – and it’s far more environmentally-friendly to eat plants instead of meat. A cow eats more than its own body weight in plant material every month … but I’m sorry – I didn’t mean to lecture.”
“No, that’s fine,” said Virginia. “This is interesting. So do you eat fish?”
Barney smiled. “I wouldn’t be a vegetarian if I did.”
“Oh – well it’s just that I had a friend at school who was a vegetarian, but she ate fish.”
Barney chuckled. “Eating fish is actually worse, because most fish are not farmed – we’re depleting the ocean’s resources at an incredible rate. Plus, any fish over a foot long are full of mercury, which is poisonous. Anyway I’m sorry – I shouldn’t be ranting against meat when you’re about to have a chicken dish.”
“That’s okay,” said Virginia. “It’s cool to see a different side of you. Anyway, if it makes you feel any better, I don’t eat red meat.”
Barney chuckled. “That’s good,” he said. “Still, you buy leather shoes.”
“And you sell leather shoes,” she shot back.
Barney grinned. “Touché,” he said. “Shall I pour you some wine?”
“No thanks,” said Virginia. “I’ll stick with my water – I’m driving.”
“Just one glass won’t put you over the limit,” he said.
“Even so,” she replied.
Their food arrived, and they chatted about work while they ate. Then Barney asked, “Do you have any pets?”
“Not right now,” said Virginia. “I had a dog until about six months ago, but she died.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Barney gravely.
“How about you?” asked Virginia. “I see you as a dog person.”
Barney grinned. “Not even close. I’m more of a herpetologist.”
“A herpe-what?” she inquired.
“I like reptiles and amphibians,” said Barney. “At home right now I have a little corn snake.”
“Wow – that sounds cool. I’ll bet that isn’t a vegetarian, though!”
“No – it eats mice.”
“Ugh,” said Virginia. “Live ones?”
“Frozen and thawed,” said Barney. “But perhaps we shouldn’t talk about that while we’re eating…?”
Virginia laughed. “Perhaps not.”
It was actually, Virginia was surprised to find, a very pleasant date. Aside from one or two off-colour remarks, Barney was indeed a perfect gentleman, and Virginia was glad to be here instead of at home, moping. Barney paid the bill, after which Virginia got to her feet. “How are you getting home?” she asked, knowing that Barney did not have a car.
“By bus,” said Barney.
“Oh nonsense,” said Virginia. “I’ll drop you off.”
“Thanks,” smiled Barney.
As she pulled up outside the block of flats where Barney lived, she turned to bid him goodnight. But Barney appeared to have other ideas.
“Do you want to come inside and see my snake?” he blurted out.
Virginia burst out laughing. Barney turned red, but laughed too. “I didn’t mean that…” he said.
“I know,” said Virginia. “Okay – sounds like fun. Just don’t get any ideas, all right?”
She followed him inside and into his flat – a rather cramped place with just a kitchen, living room and bathroom. Barney’s bed was little more than a mattress on the floor at one side of the living room. Clothes were strewn everywhere.
“Sorry about the mess,” said Barney. “There’s Ronnie – my snake.”
“Hello Ronnie,” said Virginia, bending down to peer into the little terrarium sitting on top of a table next to the television. It was a pale yellow-brown in colour, with large patches of red, with black borders, along its back and sides. “You’re a pretty thing!”
Then she felt Barney’s hand between her legs. “Barney!” she said. “What did I tell you?”
“I’m sorry,” said Barney as he stroked her pussy through her panties. “But you were bending over, and I could see your knickers, and … well … I couldn’t resist…”
Virginia knew she should stand up straight and leave, but her pussy was beginning to remember Barney’s touch, and she found herself thinking “What if…?” It would certainly be a slap in Stan’s face, to sleep with Barney on her first date with him, after having put Stan off for so long. So she held still while Barney worked his fingers inside her panties, and then inside her, and she shivered with pleasure as he began to rub her g-spot again. “You’re pretty good at that,” she breathed.
Then her panties were coming down … past her knees … down to her ankles. She bent down lower, resting her head on the table, and arched her back, pressing her pussy into his hand. She heard him unzip his trousers, and then felt his erection pushing between her labia. The nerve of the guy! He had not even kissed her yet! Yet perhaps this was what she needed right now – a bit of dirty sex to pay Stan back for being such a jerk.
She winced as he eased himself into her – she was still a little dry – but after a couple of thrusts he was lubricated enough to slide smoothly in and out of her vagina. It occurred to her that she was not on the pill, and she was pretty sure Barney was not using a condom … but she had just come off her period and would not be ovulating for a few days yet. It would probably be okay.
With a low moan, Barney spurted his semen deep inside her. Virginia moaned with her own pleasure, and ground her buttocks against his hips – he was definitely larger than Stan, though certainly not huge.
Stepping back, Barney popped free, and zipped himself back up. Virginia reached down and pulled up her panties. Barney’s sperm immediately started leaking out of her and puddling in her gusset. “Thanks for a nice evening,” she said. “I’d better get home.”
“Won’t you stay the night?” asked Barney hopefully.
Virginia shrugged. “You got what you wanted, didn’t you?”
Barney looked a little hurt. “Well – that was wonderful, of course,” he said. “But I was hoping you and I could … I mean … that you’d be my…”
“Your girlfriend?” said Virginia. The idea was ridiculous. And yet … it would at least legitimise what she had just done. She was not the kind of girl who had one-night stands, after all. “Okay, we’ll give it a go,” she said. “Do you have a spare toothbrush?”
*******************************
So she spent the night with him, and let him fuck her twice more. The following morning she kissed him goodbye and went home, where she showered and then put on some clothes. She had decided to test the whole trousers thing, since she was tired of having to buy new skirts or dresses every day. Perhaps the gypsy had just been bluffing.
It felt so good to be wearing jeans! For once she did not feel vulnerable. And nothing bad seemed to be happening. After a couple of hours wandering around the house, she decided to see what would happen if she wore the jeans outside. So she went for a walk around the block. Down Fernbank road she went, then left on to the main road, past the church…
The congregation of St Michael’s had just emerged, so there were a lot of cars, and a lot of people getting into the cars. Other people were on the pavement, talking, and it was while she was picking her way among these people that disaster struck.
Her clothes disappeared.
Not just her jeans – nor even just her outerwear. Every stitch of clothing she had on, including her shoes, vanished into thin air. A stunned silence fell upon the churchgoers around her. Then she shrieked, turned tail, and fled back down the road with one hand over her pussy and the other arm across her breasts. She stepped on a holly leaf, yelped, and covered the next few yards hopping on one foot while she removed the holly leaf from her other foot. Needless to say, this exposed her pussy and breasts again, this time to a mother and her six-year-old son who were out walking. The mother gaped in astonishment, then covered her little boy’s wide eyes.
“You should be ashamed of yourself!” shouted the woman, as Virginia put her injured foot down and ran the rest of the way home on both legs. Then she stopped in horror at her front gate as she realised she did not have her house keys – they had been in the pocket of her jeans.
“Hey!” said a man’s voice.
Virginia turned in alarm and saw a portly middle-aged man jogging up to her, sweating profusely in a suit and tie. She hastily covered herself up.
“You dropped your keys!” said the man, holding them out in front of him as he slowed to a walk. “Oh my, I’m not used to running!”
“Thank you so much,” said Virginia, snatching the keys from his hand. “I’m sorry to be so indecent – I didn’t intend…”
“I know!” panted the man. “Your clothes disappeared – I saw it happen. Bummer!”
“Yes – well – thank you,” said Virginia. Then she fled indoors.
So wearing trousers was out. She suspected something similar would happen if she tried wearing shorts, or even hotpants, underneath her microskirts. It looked as if she was doomed to reveal her panties, frequently and for prolonged periods, in public. It was a scary thought – yet somehow liberating to finally admit it and give in to it. She would just have to make sure they were nice panties.
*******************************
On Monday morning, therefore, she wore another skirt that had been shortened the previous week. This one only just covered her buttocks. It was not quite her longest, but she was past caring by this point. She even hiked it up in front of the mirror to see what it would look like when it got shorter. Her white silk panties came into view – they looked clean, and pretty. They would do.
Barney kissed her as soon as she entered the shop. “Hi – darling,” he said.
“Hi – Barney,” she replied with a smile.
“I love your look today,” he said.
“Yes – well, please don’t try and make me lie,” she said. “Even one lie will make me show my panties.”
“We’ll see,” he said with a grin. “Personally, I’m looking forward to seeing your panties.”
“I’m sure you are,” she replied, smiling. “But you can see them tonight, if you like. Would you like to stay at my place tonight?”
“Yes please!” said Barney.
He fondled her every chance he got during the morning, but he did not try to make her lie – which was a good thing, because she accidentally lied a couple of times entirely without his help. She had been accosted by one of the female customers.
“I’m going to complain to the manager about you!” fumed the woman, who was in her fifties. “How dare you bend over like that and reveal your underwear to those children?”
“I didn’t mean to,” Virginia apologised. Her skirt shortened by an inch, exposing the lower curves of her buttocks. “It’s just that my skirt is so short…”
“Well, what do you mean by wearing a skirt that short anyway?” demanded the outraged woman. “Aren’t you ashamed to be seen in something that indecent?”
“Yes, I am,” said Virginia. Her hemline did not rise – she was indeed ashamed, if only a little by this point. “But there’s really nothing I can do about it.” Now her hemline jumped upwards by another inch. “I’m under a curse, you see.”
“A curse? What nonsense! Where’s your manager? I demand to speak with him!”
Virginia sighed. “I’ll get him,” she said. With her panties as well as her buttocks now peeping below her hemline, she walked off to find Dave.
“Dave,” she said when she found him. “A customer is complaining about the length of my skirt.”
“As well he might!” said Dave. “I’ll go and smooth things over, but Ginny – if I get two more complaints, I’m going to have to let you go. I’m enjoying the view and everything, but I can’t afford to lose business over it.”
Virginia paled. “I understand,” she said. “Anyway it’s a ‘she’ – that lady over there.”
Dave nodded, and went over to speak to the woman. After a short conversation, the woman left, looking hardly satisfied at all.
By lunchtime, having carelessly lied two more times, Virginia was wandering through the shop in a skirt that came only halfway down her buttocks. Barney and Duncan were extremely appreciative of this; Dave was not.
“For heaven’s sake,” he said angrily, “go and buy yourself another skirt.”
“I can’t keep buying new skirts!” protested Virginia. “I’m not made of money, you know!”
“I’ll buy her one,” offered Barney.
“Really? You would?” asked Virginia in surprise.
“Sure,” said Barney.
“All right,” said Dave. “I wouldn’t normally let both of you take lunch at the same time, but I suppose I can make an exception. Go on then.”
As they walked through the shopping centre, Barney offered to cover Virginia’s panties for her. This, however, turned out to be a flimsy pretext to fondling her bottom in plain view of all passers-by. Virginia rebuked him for this, but he did not stop – in fact he even went so far as to lift up the back of her skirt and slip his hand inside her panties so that he could caress and squeeze her bare buttock. Virginia, who was beginning to revel in her new role as a shameless hussy, made little or no attempt to stop him.
In the department store, she picked out a couple of skirts she liked the look of, and took them into the changing room with her. She modelled each one for Barney, coming out of the changing room and giving him a little twirl while he watched appreciatively. When she asked him which one he liked best, he picked (surprisingly enough) the shortest one – a denim miniskirt which came down almost to mid-thigh. Barney paid for it at the counter, and she wore it out of the shop.
“Thanks Barney,” she said. “I really appreciate this.”
“Don’t mention it,” he said with a smile. “I’m looking forward to seeing it get shorter.”
“You don’t like it at this length?” she asked him with a mock pout.
“It’s very nice,” he said. “But it will be nicer when it’s shorter.”
“Well – I can customize its length, you know,” she said. “How short do you think it should be?”
Barney grinned. “Start shortening it, and I’ll tell you when to stop,” he said.
Virginia smiled. She felt very naughty indeed as she said, “My name is … Galadriel.”
Barney chuckled as he watched her skirt shorten by two inches. “Keep going,” he said with shining eyes.
Virginia laughed. “I’m seven feet tall!” she announced.
“Shorter!” said Barney.
“I’m a thousand years old!” she giggled. Her skirt was now at buttock-length.
“Holy shit!” said Barney, staring excitedly at her hemline. “I’m getting such a stiffy!” He clasped his hands protectively over his crotch. “Keep going!”
“You’re naughty!” she said reprovingly, but her eyes twinkled merrily. “All right – I was born in a castle in Australia!”
They were passing a fountain, where a number of people were sitting and chatting. All conversation ceased as they spotted Virginia. Barney pulled her to one side and kissed her. She responded willingly, thrusting her tongue into his mouth and entwining it with his. He broke off for a second to say, “Keep going”, and then he resumed kissing her. With his right hand he held her around the waist, and with his left he stroked and kneaded her breast through her blouse. Then he slid his hand downwards, pulled up her skirt, pushed his hand into her panties, and started rubbing her clitoris.
Virginia breathlessly pulled away long enough to say, “The Moon is made of cheese”, then she went back to kissing him. A minute later, gasping with pleasure, and even though he had not asked her to keep going, she broke off and whispered, “My panties are black”. They were not, of course – as everybody around her could now clearly see, they were white. A moment later, she said, “I’m a virgin”, and after that, “So is Britney Spears”. She moaned as Barney slipped two fingers inside her.
For the next ten minutes they continued to kiss, and Barney continued to fuck her with two fingers, and she continued to lie, until her skirt was nothing more than a sliver of material, half an inch wide, encircling her waist. She was about to explode in a delicious orgasm when the spell was rudely interrupted by an officious-looking member of the security staff. “Take it outside, you two,” he said.
Frustrated, they broke off their clinch, and hurried away through the shopping centre, followed by stares, comments and wolf-whistles all the way. They were just passing the public toilets when Virginia stopped. “In here!” she said. “Come into the ladies’.”
“No way!” said Barney vehemently. “I’ll get into trouble. You come into the men’s.”
She followed him into the men’s room, and they locked themselves in a stall. Virginia pulled down her panties and bent over the toilet seat, staring down at a giant un-flushed turd while Barney quickly freed his erection and shoved it unceremoniously into her well-lubricated vagina. She pulled the lid down and then leaned her hands on it as Barney fucked her, hard. His penis felt so good inside her … but she needed a little extra help, so she rubbed her clitoris with one hand as Barney’s thrusting built to a jack-hammer climax. She came almost at the same time as he did, gasping as he filled her with his seed.
“Oh God, that felt good!” she murmured.
“For me too!” gasped Barney. “Oh my God, Ginny, you are so incredibly sexy!”
She had heard remarks like this from him before, but this time his tone was one of such genuine honesty that she felt very flattered. He really and truly believed she was incredibly sexy – and that felt very good…
“What the heck am I going to do, though?” she asked. “I can’t go back to the shop like this.”
“You could put on your other one,” suggested Barney. “Tell Dave you couldn’t find anything you liked.”
“He’ll sack me for sure,” she said.
“I suppose I could buy you another skirt,” said Barney reluctantly.
“No – I can’t ask you to do that,” she said. “I suppose I’ll just have to face the music with Dave.”
She put on her other skirt, which covered only half of her panties, and then she returned to the shoe shop with Barney. Dave was not amused. “What the hell?” he demanded.
“I couldn’t find anything I liked,” said Virginia. Her skirt shrank by another inch.
“Like hell you couldn’t!” exclaimed Dave.
“All right, we did find something, but my card got rejected,” said Barney.
“Is that true?” asked Dave, watching Virginia’s hemline.
Virginia felt her loins tingling again. “Yes,” she said, knowing full well her skirt would shorten again.
“Damn it!” said Dave. “Will one of you start telling me the truth?”
“The truth is,” said Barney, “we did buy a skirt. But on our way back, Ginny told a couple of fibs…”
“Accidentally,” said Virginia, almost giggling at Dave’s scowl as he watched her skirt shorten yet again.
“On purpose!” said Dave accusingly. “This is turning you on, isn’t it?”
“No!” she protested, but her hemline said otherwise. It was now on a level with the waistband of her panties at the back, and at the front was rather higher, revealing over an inch of bare skin between her skirt and her panties.
“That’s it – you’re fired,” said Dave.
This came almost as a relief, though for a moment she was shocked too. She needed this job – she was overdue on the rent as it was. But surely she could get another one – one where the boss wasn’t such an arse.
“I’m off home then,” she said to Barney. “Come and see me later?”
“Sure – right after work,” he said.
With a sigh, Virginia gathered her things, then she left the shop for the last time.
*******************************
The job agency fixed her up with a couple of interviews later in the week, but both of them went disastrously. She knew that she would not be able to get away with concealing her skirt problem during the interview – it would only backfire on her later – so she was upfront about it and brought up the issue right there in front of the interviewers. Naturally they thought she was joking, so she was obliged to demonstrate. For some reason, unfortunately, this did not incline them towards offering her a position.
“What you need,” said Barney late one evening, “is a job that takes advantage of your skirt … problem. Preferably one you can do from home.”
“Like what?” she asked.
“Well,” he said carefully, “there’s this website I know of – one of my favourites, actually – I think you’d be a big hit.”
“What do you mean?” she asked suspiciously.
“It’s a webcam site,” said Barney. “I’ll show you.”
He booted up her computer and connected to a website with a deep pink background. He clicked on a link labelled “Who’s Online”, and a host of thumbnailed pictures appeared. Each picture was of a young woman wearing not very many clothes (and sometimes none at all), and beneath it was the girl’s name with a link for “Private Show” and another for “Free Chat”. He clicked a picture belonging to a rather pretty blonde named “HotTammy69”, and another page came up.
This page contained a larger picture of the girl, lying in a provocative pose on her bed, and it was changing about once every second. This was obviously a live broadcast. “Basically,” said Barney, “people log in and chat with these girls, and if they want a private show, they have to buy credits and then click the Private Show link. I don’t know how much goes to the girl and how much goes to the website, but I’d say it’s pretty easy money.”
“You expect me to … to play with myself and stuff? In front of a stranger on the internet?” asked Virginia in disbelief.
“Why not?” said Barney. “You’ll never have to meet the guy in person – it’s got to be better than finding yourself naked outside a church, right?”
“Or getting fingered in front of a bunch of people in the shopping centre,” added Virginia. “I suppose I can’t be prudish about this. Why the hell not – I’ll give it a go. How do I sign up?”
Barney helped her through the sign-up process. “Looks like you get forty-five per cent,” he said. “That’s not bad.”
“No underage sex, rape, incest, bestiality, or blood-letting,” read Virginia aloud. “No animals on screen, including your pets – strange!”
“I suppose they’re not taking any chances on the bestiality thing,” said Barney.
“So what do most of these girls do, exactly?” asked Virginia.
“Just sit around in skimpy clothing, mostly, chatting with whoever comes to watch them,” said Barney. “Sometimes they try to talk you into a private show – if they like you. Other times they just wait for guys to offer. When a guy wants a private show, he clicks a link, the request comes through, and you can either accept it or reject it. If you accept, that guy becomes the only person who can see you – to everyone else the screen goes blank and shows a message saying that you’re in private mode. You then put on a show for your paying customer – show him your pussy, play with yourself, shove a dildo up your cunt – that kind of thing.”
“Charming,” said Virginia. “And how long do I have to do that for?”
“Well, you get paid for that time, so the longer the better. Eventually his credits will run out, or he may decide he’s had enough – or spent enough.”
“It says here I have to remain in front of the camera all the time,” said Virginia. “What if I need to go to the loo?”
“You have to log out – look, it says so.”
“Oh yes.” She shrugged. “Well, I suppose all I need now is a webcam.”
“I have one you can use,” said Barney. “Hey – why not come over and stay the night? You could get started right away.”
“Is that what you want?” she asked.
He grinned. “Yeah.”
Half an hour later, they were at Barney’s house. He set up the webcam while she was brushing her teeth, and then she logged in. A little window popped up in the corner of the screen, showing what her viewers would be seeing: herself, wearing a tiny little skirt which did not cover her panties, and a bra. She was sitting on the edge of Barney’s bed.
“You’d better be careful,” she said. “You’re not allowed to come into shot.”
“I know,” said Barney. “I’ll stay out of the way.”
They had set up the camera so that it only showed half of the bed. Barney, having got ready for bed, climbed in and watched Virginia.
It did not take long for the fish to bite. Soon she was involved in three different conversations. They were mostly pretty polite, complimenting her on her outfit and her looks – but one of them began to get vulgar and started asking her to spread her legs more, and take her bra off. She asked him if he wanted a private show, but he declined, saying he had spent all his credits already.
“Don’t talk too much,” said Barney. “They haven’t come here to watch you type – they want to see what you have to offer. Tease them a little.”
“I’m not supposed to show them anything unless it’s in private,” said Virginia. “The rules said so.”
“Yeah, but some of the girls get pretty creative without actually showing anything. They pull their panties into a line between their pussy lips, or take off their bras and just hold a couple of fingers over their nipples … that kind of thing.”
“All right,” she said. She stopped typing and leaned back, spreading her legs wide and bunching the front of her panties together. She pulled them between her pussy lips, and then she leaned forward so she could grab the keyboard. Lying back again, she resumed typing, while the camera remained fixed on her pussy, barely covered by her panties.
“That’s good!” said Barney.
And now an interesting thing happened. The number of connections to her camera began to increase. Previously, unseen viewers had been connecting and disconnecting every few seconds, as if scoping her out and, more often than not, deciding to move on. But now the connections remained open, and as more viewers arrived at her camera, they tended to stay.
“I’m getting quite an audience here!” Virginia observed. She was getting quite excited at the thought of all those men out there, watching her pussy. They could see her face as well – what if she knew any of them? It was a little scary – but she was getting very horny at the thought.
“I don’t have a dildo,” she said. “What if someone wants a private show?”
“You don’t have to use a dildo,” said Barney. “But if you want, I can fetch a banana from the kitchen.”
“Would you?” said Virginia.
Barney went to the kitchen, and returned with a banana. Virginia started rubbing it up and down her pussy. Soon she got a request for a private show.
“I got one!” she said excitedly.
“Cool!”
She accepted the request, and then slipped off her panties, skirt, and bra. Her paying customer was most appreciative. ‘WOW’, he said. ‘NICE TITS! R THEY A D-CUP?’
‘C, actually,’ she typed. ‘I’m glad you like them. Do you want to see me stick this banana into my pussy?’
‘HELL YEAH, BABY! STICK THAT BANANA UP YOUR CUNT! I LOVE IT!’
Barney was masturbating while he watched her. As she worked the banana into her vagina, he groaned and ejaculated into a tissue.
She looked over at him disapprovingly. “Well I guess sex is out tonight!” she remarked.
“You look like you’re doing okay without me,” said Barney with a grin. “Besides, you’re busy with a customer.”
She fucked herself with the banana for about five minutes, and then the guy asked her to stick it up her anus. She declined, saying it would hurt too much. A moment later, he said he was out of credits, and disconnected.
She was automatically logged out. Now she supposed she would have to put her clothes back on and log in again. She pondered this for a moment: what if she didn’t put her clothes back on? Maybe she could be cunning about this.
She lay partially on her side, with her legs spread wide and one knee high in the air, so that her pussy was still on show – but then she laid the banana along her pussy, covering her clitoris, vagina and anus. This looked a little unattractive to her, since her pubic hair was sprouting either side of the banana.
“Do you think I should shave my pussy?” she asked.
“Mmm?” Barney was half asleep. “Mmm, yeah – good idea.”
She had brought her razor with her, so she hurried through to the bathroom and spent the next fifteen minutes carefully shaving every last vestige of hair from her pussy. She had initially thought to leave a little ‘landing strip’ down the middle, but it was simpler and easier to get rid of the lot, so this is what she did. Having washed and dried herself, she returned to the edge of Barney’s bed, and took up her previous position. This time, only bare skin showed either side of the banana. Her arm, positioned over the keyboard, cunningly obscured her nipples from the camera’s view, and now she was ready. She logged in again.
It was not long before she had quite an army of viewers. Strangely, none of them seemed inclined to request a private show … but she did not mind too much, as she was having a lot of fun toying with the banana and teasing her invisible audience. Sometimes she would move her arm a little, and her nipple would briefly appear on the camera display – and then she would feign shock and embarrassment, and cover herself up again.
An hour later, she received another request for a private show. She accepted it, and fucked herself with the banana again while she masturbated. Five minutes later, the customer disconnected.
She resumed her teasing – this, for her, was really the fun part. She was having some fun conversations with her viewers – they were going wild with desire, watching her play with the banana in front of her pussy, and some of them were actually begging her to move it to one side, just for a second.
She knew her account could be terminated if she did that, but … perhaps she would get away with it if it seemed accidental… And besides, the moderators couldn’t possibly watch every girl all the time, could they?
So she ‘accidentally’ let the banana slip, and giggled at the exclamations of delight from those of her viewers who were nice enough to talk to her instead of just lurking. After that, she had several more of these ‘accidents’ … and her nipples also popped into view quite often. She was most gratified when one of her viewers said, ‘I’ve been a regular at this site for six months – and you are the HOTTEST woman on here!’
She was happy … but she was getting tired, so at four o’clock in the morning she bade her viewers goodnight, and logged out. Masturbating herself to an intense orgasm, she quickly fell asleep, naked, next to Barney.
*******************************
Next morning, she had breakfast with Barney in just a pair of panties. “Since you’ll be at the shopping centre today,” she said, “would you mind getting me some sexier underwear?”
“Sure!” he said. “What do you have in mind?”
“I trust you,” she smiled. “Something very tiny, and or see-through.”
“Okay!” he said, his eyes shining.
She spent most of the day logged into her webcam site, tantalising a multitude of excited viewers. After a short spell in just her panties, she stripped naked, and remained naked for the rest of the day. She was careful, for the most part, to keep her breasts and pussy covered up, but anyone who watched her for more than ten minutes was pretty much guaranteed to get a flash of her vagina and her nipples.
That evening, after eating pizza with Barney, she put on a thong that he had brought home for her. It was exceedingly narrow, even in the front, and when she pulled it between her labia and spread her legs, hardly anything was left to the imagination. This was the view that most of her viewers saw for the remainder of the evening. Then, after logging off briefly so that Barney could fuck her, she logged back in and, once she had acquired half a dozen viewers, for a twenty-second stretch she showed them Barney’s cum leaking out of her vagina.
She was not making nearly enough money to support herself, of course. No doubt the girls who concealed more in the public sessions earned more than she did. But she was having too much fun showing off for lots of viewers at a time.
There was no way she could afford to carry on renting the house in which she lived, so she asked Barney if he would move in with her, and share the rent. He readily agreed, and so this is what they did. From then on, Barney paid the lion’s share of the rent and the bills, while she brought in a small sum from her webcam.
After receiving a warning from the moderators about showing her naked pussy to non-paying viewers, she toned down her public performances … but it was not long before she was slipping back into bad habits. Then, after a half-hour public session in which she stuffed two peeled bananas into her cunt, and then pushed them out again, her account was terminated.
“I’m sorry,” she apologised to Barney morosely.
“Well we could create another account for you under a different name,” said Barney, “but how long would you last before the moderators actually banned this I.P.?”
“Not long, probably,” she admitted.
“You need to find another job,” he said. “Have you thought about becoming a prostitute?”
The word sent a chill down her spine. Her jaw dropped, and she stared at Barney, speechless. “Er, no!” she said.
“Well I suggest you think about it,” he said simply.
After Barney had left to go to work, Virginia’s thoughts were in a turmoil. How dare Barney suggest such a thing? And yet … would it really be so different from what she was doing in front of the webcam?
Yes, it would! So far, she had had sex only with Barney. Her viewers were miles away, and had never actually touched her. She had not even exchanged email addresses with them (the rules forbade it, for one thing).
Then again, she needed some kind of job … and one which she could do while wearing little or no covering for her panties. Telemarketing, perhaps? No – she was a lousy salesperson. She sighed, and got herself ready to go out. Putting on her longest skirt, which only showed two inches of her panties, she grabbed her purse and went out.
The first thing, she thought to herself, was to find herself a decent skirt. She wouldn’t be able to get any kind of job dressed like this. She got in her car and drove to the centre of town. On a whim, she turned into the seedier part of town, and parked in a grotty little car park behind a disused garage. She got out, and walked on unsteady legs towards the dingier alleys of the neighbourhood.
A car slowed down as it passed her, matching her walking speed. She looked across to see the window being wound down. “Hi!” said the driver – a man in his forties. “You open for business?”
Butterflies swarmed in Virginia’s stomach. She bent down and smiled nervously at the man. “What are you after?” she asked.
“A fuck,” he replied. “Straight – no dirty stuff.”
Virginia bit her lip. “Er … do you have a condom?”
“Yes I do,” said the man. “How much?”
“Um … a hundred,” she said, and then immediately worried that she had aimed too high.
“I’ll give you fifty,” said the man.
He did not seem surprised, however, by the number she had quoted, so she decided to negotiate. “Sorry,” she said. “Fifty won’t get you a f…fuck. Ninety’s as low as I’ll go.”
He grinned. “A tough negotiator, eh?” he said. “All right – seventy-five. That’s as much as I can give you right now.”
She decided not to push her luck. “Okay,” she said. “You’ve got a deal. Er – where do you want to go?”
“Do you have a place?” he asked. “I can’t take you to mine – I’m married.”
She really did not want to take this man to her house. “Um – how about in your car?” she said.
“Not very comfy,” he said, “but okay. I know a quiet spot.”
She climbed in, and fidgeted nervously as the man drove to the edge of town. He pulled into an old warehouse building, which looked as if it had not been used for some time. Switching off the engine, he turned to her and grinned. “Now – why don’t you recline that seat a bit?”
She nodded, and wound it back as far as it would go. Then she reached up her skirt and pulled down her panties. “Do you want me on my back or on all fours?” she asked.
“I’m an old-fashioned guy,” he said. “Missionary will do nicely.”
He put on a condom, climbed on top of her, and slid himself into her without ceremony. She wrapped her legs around his back, and clung on to him while he thrust his erection inside her with rapid strokes. Then he groaned loudly, slumped on top of her, and then pulled out. Rolling off her, he sank back into the driver’s seat, pulled off the condom, and tossed it out of the window. Tucking his wilting penis back into his trousers, he said, “Nice one. I like your pussy – good and tight.”
“Er, thanks,” she said, feeling rather dirty.
He pulled out his wallet and gave her a bunch of notes. She counted them – it was seventy-five exactly. “Where shall I drop you off?” he asked.
“Where you found me, please,” said Virginia.
He drove her back into town and dropped her off. She ran to her car and shut herself inside, trembling. “I can’t believe I just did that!” she said aloud.
She really did not feel like turning another trick – at least not right now – so she drove to the shopping centre, intending to go and tell Barney what she had done. But as she passed the department store, she stopped and looked inside. She really did need some longer skirts – and now at least she had a bit of cash in hand…
It was while she was browsing in the miniskirts section that she overheard a conversation that caught her attention. “Well I do like it,” a rather bossy-sounding woman was saying to a sales assistant, “but it’s the wrong length for me. Don’t you have anything like this, but above the knee?”
“I really don’t think so,” said the sales assistant. “I can check, but I really think that’s just the style of that skirt – it’s a calf-length skirt.”
“Well I’m sorry,” said the woman, “but ‘I don’t think so’ doesn’t really help me very much. Look, can I talk to someone who actually knows what stock you carry? I’m positive you must have a shorter version of this skirt.”
“Uh – Sue! Can you come here for a second please? This lady wants to know if this skirt comes in a shorter length.”
“I want one that’s just above the knee,” said the woman. “Are you the store manager?”
“I’m a sales manager,” said the lady named Sue. “Can’t you buy this one and then re-hem it at home?”
“Do I look like someone who can sew?” asked the bossy woman imperiously.
“Excuse me,” said Virginia, stepping out from behind the miniskirts stand. “I’m sorry to barge in like this, but I couldn’t help overhearing … and I believe I can help this lady out.”
“And who, pray, are you?” demanded the woman, staring at Virginia’s panties in disapproval bordering on outrage.
The sales assistant and Sue, the sales manager, were also staring at Virginia, but they looked more amused than shocked. “How can you help?” asked Sue politely.
“I can shorten this skirt to the lady’s desired length,” said Virginia. “It’ll take me two minutes. Less, even.” She did not even consider charging for this service – she was just glad to find something useful that she could do with her curse.
“And how will you do that?” asked the bossy woman. “With a pair of scissors? I hardly think that’s much of a solution.”
“It will be hemmed so perfectly,” said Virginia, “you’ll think it was always that length. May I?”
“Please, be my guest,” said Sue, looking puzzled but curious.
“Oh very well,” said the bossy woman. “I suppose I don’t have to buy it if you make a hash of it.”
“How many inches should I take off?” asked Virginia.
The woman held the skirt against her legs, and then pointed. “Cut it to there,” she said.
“Ten inches, I’d say,” said Sue.
Virginia took the skirt. “I’ll be back in a jiffy,” she said.
She hurried with the skirt to the changing rooms, and shut herself in a cubicle. Pulling the skirt on, she hoisted it up over the top of her microskirt. She was about three inches shorter than the bossy woman, so her legs were probably about one-and-a-half inches shorter … she placed her finger-tips where she thought the skirt ought to come down to, and then she took a deep breath.
“I am a goldfish,” she said.
The skirt’s hem jumped upwards – a lot. “Yikes!” Virginia exclaimed. The curse obviously considered this a big lie – she had shortened the skirt by nine inches already. “Um, my birthday is on the fourteenth of January.” It was actually on the fifteenth.
Half an inch more disappeared. “My birthday is on the fourteenth of January!” she repeated. Another half-inch disappeared. She slipped quickly out of the skirt, and then hurried back to where Sue, the sales assistant, and the bossy woman were still standing. “There you go!” she said, handing the skirt over to the woman.
The woman placed the skirt against her thighs. “Not bad,” she said grudgingly. “I’ll go and try it on.”
Once she had gone, Sue turned to Virginia. “That’s amazing!” she said. “How did you do that so quickly?”
Virginia smiled. “Trade secret,” she said.
“Listen,” said Sue. “We have an opening on our staff – would you like to interview for a job here?”
Virginia beamed, but then her face clouded. “Um, I’d love to – I really would. But I seem to have this problem keeping covered up.”
Sue raised her eyebrows. “Yes, well, I was going to ask about your, um, choice in skirts. What’s the problem exactly?”
Virginia took a deep breath, and then she explained, in full, about the curse. Sue was astonished, and disbelieving at first, but a simple demonstration convinced her.
“All right, all right!” she said, laughing. “Don’t make it any shorter, please!”
“So, I don’t know,” said Virginia. “Maybe something in a back room, somewhere, where I could shorten skirts in private?”
“I’m sure something can be arranged,” said Sue. “This could be a big coup for the store – skirts that can be made any length on request!”
“Well I can’t lengthen them, unfortunately,” said Virginia.
“No problem,” said Sue. “We’ll just get in plenty of long skirts, and the customers can choose how much they want them shortened. Can you do dresses as well? Or is it just skirts?”
“I can do dresses,” confirmed Virginia.
“Excellent! Come on back to the office – let’s get you started on some paperwork.”
*******************************
A month later, the old gypsy woman was shuffling through the shopping centre when a sign caught her eye: ‘Skirts shortened to any length!’ Her eyes narrowed, and she edged closer to read the small print. ‘Buy a skirt here, or bring us one of your own, and we’ll shorten it for you, for just £1.00, to any length you desire! Perfect hemming – you’ll think it was made this way!’
Grunting in annoyance, the woman shuffled into the shop. “Excuse me,” she said to a male sales assistant.
“Can I help you?” he asked.
“Yes – the lady who shortens the skirts – I need to speak with her, please.”
“Who, Ginny? She’s in the back – I’m afraid customers can’t go back there.”
“Then could you get her for me please?” the woman wheezed. “It’s an emergency. I’m her grandmother.”
The sales assistant looked as if he doubted this, but he shrugged and headed for the back of the store. Two minutes later, Ginny appeared, wearing a tiny skirt that was just three inches from top to bottom and revealed nearly all of her white panties. “You!” she exclaimed.
“You’re not supposed to be enjoying the curse!” said the gypsy. She looked around. “Or profiting from it!”
“Tough!” said Virginia. “You cast it on me – deal with it! And look – look at my skirt. I didn’t know my purse was full of money when I told you I didn’t have any. There! It didn’t shorten, did it?”
The gypsy was taken aback. But she quickly recovered herself. “Never mind that,” she said. “I’ve come to take the curse back – I imagine you’ve suffered enough by now.”
“Oh!” said Virginia in surprise. “But … my new job…”
“You can get your old job back, once the curse is lifted,” said the gypsy. “Or any job you want. You won’t be a freak any more.”
“True,” agreed Virginia. She sighed. “All right then – go ahead.”
“Well,” said the old woman, coughing noisily, “actually only you can lift the curse. And you’ve had the ability all along.”
“I have?” exclaimed Virginia in astonishment. “How?”
“Just say the following words,” said the gypsy, lowering her voice. “This sentence will cause my skirt to shorten.”
Virginia looked puzzled. “That’s it?” she asked.
The gypsy nodded. “It causes the curse to self-destruct,” she says. “It doesn’t know what to do. If your skirt shortens, then you weren’t lying – but then it shouldn’t have shortened. If it doesn’t shorten, then you were lying – and it should therefore have shortened. It’s a paradox, you see, and the curse can’t handle it. So it goes away.”
“Oh!” said Virginia. “I think I see. Okay then – thank you. I suppose I’d better go and tell my boss.”
The gypsy grunted, then, having done what she intended, she turned and shuffled back out of the store.
Virginia found Sue and said, “Um, Sue? I have to tell you something.”
Sue turned to her and smiled. “How’s it going, Ginny? Everything okay?”
Virginia nodded. “But, um, I just had a little visit from the woman who cursed me. She told me how I can lift the curse.”
Sue’s face fell. “Oh,” she said. “I see. Well, obviously it’s your decision – I can see why you’d want to do that… We’ll be awfully sorry to lose your talent…”
Virginia smiled. She really liked Sue. “You know what, Sue?” she said. “Forget it. I’ve discovered I like wandering around with my panties uncovered. And I’m enjoying this job more than any I’ve ever had. So don’t worry – I’m not going to lift the curse.”
Sue smiled happily. “That’s my girl!” she said. Then, on an impulse, she leaned forward and kissed Virginia on the lips.
Virginia, startled, took a step backwards. Sue immediately blushed crimson. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I wouldn’t have, only … I’ve been sensing something … between us…” She tailed off in embarrassment, and stared at her toes. “And you with a boyfriend and everything. I am sorry.”
“We just broke up,” said Virginia. “He was kind of boring.”
“Oh!” said Sue. Then she smiled. “So, would you like to have dinner with me tonight? I cook a good lasagne.”
Virginia smiled back. “Okay,” she said. “What should I wear?”
Sue thought about this for a moment, then she said, “Oh, I believe I’d like to see you in … a very, very short skirt.”
Virginia grinned. “I think that can be arranged,” she said.