Hannah was putting the finishing touches to the production cost analysis report when her boss, Glen, cleared his throat behind her. She spun her seat around to face him. “Nearly finished!” she said.
“Good, good,” he said, glancing down at her legs briefly before flicking his eyes back to her face. “I just wanted to let you know that the meeting’s been moved back to eleven because Morgan isn’t here yet.”
“Oh, okay,” said Hannah. “Thanks.”
“Since you therefore have some extra time,” Glen went on, “perhaps you could run last year’s figures by month so we can demonstrate the scale of our improvements?”
“Sure, I can do that,” said Hannah with a nod.
“Thanks,” said Glen. As he turned to leave, he glanced back down at her legs as she spun her seat back around.
Hannah, a little annoyed, could not help glancing down herself, wondering whether perhaps she was showing more than she thought. And sure enough, her hemline looked a little high – her skirt must have been riding up as she shifted position. Not that it was a particularly short skirt – it was just shy of knee length when she was standing up – but currently the hem was almost halfway up her thighs.
She stood up and tugged the skirt down, but it did not descend as far as she had expected. It was still a couple of inches short of the tops of her knees, which was shorter than she remembered it being. Perhaps those extra pounds she had put on over the winter were causing the skirt to sit higher around her hips. She frowned, then sat down and continued compiling the report.
At five to eleven she went to the printer and collected her printouts. As she walked back to her desk, she smiled at Mia, who was coming the other way. Mia was a bright young thing from the accounts department – the two women sometimes ate lunch together in the kitchen. Today she was wearing, unsurprisingly, a rather short skirt – but one that seemed even more daring than Mia’s usual choices.
“Hi Mia,” said Hannah.
“Hi!” said Mia brightly as she passed.
Hannah could not help noticing that Mia had glanced down at her legs. She scowled to herself and resolved to put this skirt back in the wardrobe until she had lost a little of her winter fat.
The meeting went well. Morgan, a brisk cliché of a no-nonsense corporate go-getter, expressed enthusiasm with the Hampton facility’s performance. “But there’s still a long way to go,” she added. “We’re not yet where we need to be in the market. But I have faith in your team, and I am certain you will continue your current trend.”
“Thank you Morgan,” said Glen. “Well, unless anyone has anything else…?”
Hannah rolled her chair back, and then hurriedly stood up, tugging her skirt down as she did so. How had it ridden up so much? she wondered, as she felt the blood rush to her cheeks. She made her way swiftly back to her desk, where she glanced around to make sure nobody was looking her way, and then bent down to examine her skirt.
The hem was almost at mid-thigh. She knew very well that it had not been so high this morning. There was no way around it – her skirt was shrinking. Yet … it was no tighter around her waist. It was simply getting shorter. What on Earth could cause such a thing?
She pulled up her instant messenger program and double-clicked Mia’s name. Call me crazy, she typed, but my skirt seems to be getting shorter!
Yours too? came Mia’s startling reply. At first I thought it was just my imagination, but it’s not – my skirt is definitely shorter, and I’m starting to feel very self-conscious!
My goodness! typed Hannah. I wonder if anyone else is experiencing the same phenomenon? I’ll see if I can subtly sound Jessica out on the subject.
Jessica was in the cubicle next to Hannah’s. Hannah got up and leaned over the partition. “Jessica?” she said.
“Hi,” said Jessica, looking up. “What’s up?”
Jessica’s legs were still tucked under her keyboard tray, and Hannah could not see whether or not her skirt was looking unusually short. She said, “Um, have you noticed anything … unusual … today?”
“Like what?” asked Jessica.
Hannah’s cheeks reddened a little. “Um, well, I seem to be having some … clothing issues,” she said.
“Specifically?” asked Jessica. She did not seem surprised, just curious.
Hannah walked around to the entrance to Jessica’s cubicle. “My skirt,” she said. “It’s getting shorter – I’m sure of it!”
Jessica looked relieved. “Thank goodness it’s not just me!” she said, pushing herself backwards and swivelling her chair around. Sure enough, she was wearing a skirt – one that was currently knee length. “It covered my knees this morning,” she said, looking down at the tan-coloured garment. “Quite easily. Now I can’t get it to do that, no matter how much I pull it down.”
“We need to do something!” said Hannah. “If this goes on, by the end of the day I’ll be wearing a micro-mini, and poor Mia will be wearing a belt!”
“But what can we do?” asked Jessica. “If we go to John and tell him we have to go home because our skirts are shrinking, he’ll think we’ve lost it!”
“What if this is affecting all of the women in the office?” asked Hannah. “If we all go to him with the same story, he’ll have to believe us!”
“Let’s try Stacey,” said Jessica. “If this is happening to her, then she can present our case to John.”
“Good idea,” said Hannah. Stacey was the director of purchasing, and a pleasant woman to deal with.
Unfortunately, she was not in her office. “Have you seen Stacey?” Jessica inquired of Mark, one of the sales reps.
“She’s around,” he said. “Should be back shortly.”
Hannah and Jessica looked around, but neither was tall enough to see over the partitions that separated one row of cubicles from the next. Then Jessica nudged Hannah as she saw Stacey appear at the end of the one aisle they could see down.
“Oh,” said Hannah, her heart sinking as she saw that Stacey was wearing not a skirt, but a pair of black capris. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea.”
“Hi,” said Stacey as she approached. “Did you want me?”
“Yes,” said Jessica. “Can we have a private word?”
“Sure,” said Stacey. “Is it about your skirts?”
Hannah’s eyes widened. “Yes!” she said. “They’re shrinking!”
“So are my pants,” replied Stacey, rolling her eyes. “These aren’t capris, you know. At least, they weren’t this morning.”
“What the hell’s going on?” hissed Jessica.
“Beats me,” said Stacey. “I’m about to go to John with the issue. Since I realised twenty minutes ago that I wasn’t going crazy, I’ve spoken with five other women in the office, and they all report that their skirts, or dresses, or pants, or whatever they’re wearing, are getting shorter. I haven’t found a woman yet that hasn’t been affected, but the men are experiencing nothing similar.”
“Can we go with you when you see John?” asked Hannah.
“Sure – the more evidence we can present to him, the more likely he is to believe us,” said Stacey. “And making him believe us is going to be very important, because I think we’re going to have to shut the office today.”
“What?” said Jessica.
“More than half of our staff are women,” said Stacey. “If this is happening to all of them, then what else can we do? Wait until our pants and skirts disappear? We need to get ourselves out of here, and the office can’t function properly with just the male staff. Come.”
They followed her, and on the way to John’s office, they picked up some more evidence in the form of Janet and Martha, both sales reps. Janet’s skirt, having started out well above the knee, was shorter than Hannah’s, now coming to an end well short of mid-thigh.
John was on the phone, so they waited until he finished his call before entering en masse. He looked in surprise at Janet’s skirt, and then at Hannah’s. “What’s up, ladies?” he asked.
“We have a problem,” said Stacey. “This morning, my pants came down to my ankles. Now look at them. These ladies’ skirts have all shrunk over the course of the morning, and as far as we know they are continuing to get shorter. I have spoken with several other women in the office, and they are all experiencing the same thing.”
“What is this, some kind of joke?” asked John, looking annoyed.
“No joke, John,” said Stacey. “I don’t know what the hell is going on, but by the end of the day, you’re going to have an office full of pant-less and skirt-less women. We have to close the office.”
“What? Are you crazy? We can’t close the office!” said John angrily. “Look, I don’t know what kind of stupid stunt you’re pulling, but I’m not finding it funny!”
“It’s no stunt,” said Stacey, unmoved. “Go out there and talk to your female staff. You’ll soon find that I’m telling you the truth. If you still don’t believe me, wait an hour, and then take another look at the same skirts and pants. I’m guessing that they’ll be even shorter than they are now, though I would be very happy if that were not the case, and the phenomenon has in fact ceased.”
At that moment, Morgan entered John’s office, squeezing past Hannah, who hastily made room for her. Morgan’s trousers were just short of ankle-length.
“Morgan, you wouldn’t believe the crazy story these women have brought me,” said John.
Morgan quirked an eyebrow. “Oh? What story?”
“They say their skirts are shrinking!” exclaimed John.
Morgan turned questioning eyes on Stacey. “Stacey?” she said. “Care to explain?”
Stacey was unmoved. “It’s true, Morgan,” she replied, “and if I’m not very much mistaken, I believe you are experiencing the same phenomenon. How long were those pants when you got here?”
Morgan bent down to look at her ankles, and gasped. “What the…” she began. Then she looked suspiciously at Stacey. “What’s going on?”
“I wish I knew,” said Stacey. “But it’s affecting all the women, as far as I can tell – I haven’t questioned them all.”
“Did someone cut my pants in the meeting?” demanded Morgan. “Under the table?”
Hannah shook her head. “I think we’d have noticed if someone had ducked under the table,” she said. “Besides, take a look – do they look as if they’ve been cut? I know that the hem of my skirt is still intact.”
While Morgan was bending down to examine her trouser-legs, John said, “This is ridiculous. Skirts and pants do not miraculously get shorter for no apparent reason!”
“No, they don’t,” said Stacey, “which is why this is so alarming. The laws of physics, or something, are being broken here – and that’s pretty scary. I don’t even know what the implications are.”
“And your suggestion is that we close the office and all go home?” inquired John.
“We can’t have all the women running around here in their underwear, John,” said Stacey.
“No,” agreed John, “but the office can function for a short time on a skeleton staff. I suggest that all the women go home, and come back tomorrow with different clothes. We’ll see if the same thing happens again. If it does … well, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. We’ll get a physicist in here from the university, or something.”
“All right,” said Stacey, nodding. “Sounds like a reasonable plan. I’ll stay, though – I have too much to do. If my pants get too short to be decent, I’ll leave.”
Morgan nodded. “I’ll be staying too – at least until three. Perhaps you should put out an email, John, to the effect that any woman who wishes to leave should do so, but warn them that if they stay their skirts or pants may continue to shrink.”
John sighed. “Very well. But if you two are staying, then maybe we should call the university today? Have them get over here and monitor the continued shrinkage, if indeed such a thing occurs?”
“Let’s not run the risk of looking like complete idiots just yet,” said Morgan. “If the same thing happens tomorrow, be my guest, although I’ll be in Chicago by that point. Keep me abreast of developments, though.”
John nodded. “Will do,” he said.
With that, the impromptu meeting was over. Hannah went to see Mia, who was squirming in her seat in a skirt that was almost short enough to qualify as a micro. “We’re all allowed to go home,” she said. “John will be sending out an email.”
“Thank goodness!” said Mia. “I don’t think I could stand for this skirt to get much shorter. Any ideas on what’s causing it?”
“None,” said Hannah, “but they’re talking about getting a physicist from the university to come here tomorrow if the effect is still happening.”
“Let’s hope it’s just a fluke, a one-day thing,” said Mia.
Hannah nodded. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Half an hour later, Hannah was back at home, where she changed out of her office clothes and into a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. Nothing untoward happened to these clothes, and when she checked on her skirt that evening, it had apparently not shrunk any more since she had left the office.
The next day, which was “casual” Friday, she arrived at work in a below-the-knee denim skirt, which she had selected after some careful deliberation. She was not very fond of it, but she figured that a little shortening would actually improve it. Before she sat down, she carefully determined its exact length with a tape measure – it was twenty-two inches from the top of the waistband down to the hem.
Half an hour later, she received an instant message from Mia. It’s happening again!
Quickly, Hannah stood up and measured her skirt again. It was just under twenty-one-and-a-half inches. She typed: So it is! I’ll go and see Stacey.
Stacey already knew, of course. “Yes,” she said, “I’ve been here an hour, and my pants have shortened by nearly two inches already.”
“Two inches?” said Hannah in surprise. “Wow – my skirt has only lost about half an inch in half an hour. I figured the rate was something like an inch and a quarter per hour.”
“Interesting!” said Stacey. “So, it’s affecting each of us differently. Well, I’m going to go and see John, and perhaps he’ll go ahead and get that physicist in here. In the meantime, I suppose we’ll have to send all the women home again.”
Hannah nodded. “I’ll stick around for a while though,” she said. “To be honest, this skirt could stand to lose a few inches – I never liked it much the way it is.”
Stacey laughed. “Turning the problem to your advantage, huh? We’ll make a manager out of you yet, Hannah.”
Hannah blushed. “How late did you stay yesterday?”
“Until six,” said Stacey. “By which time my pants were shorts, but thankfully still decent.”
“I presume John will be sending out an email?”
“Yes, or at least Cindy will.”
Hannah nodded, smiled, and returned to her desk. Fifteen minutes later, she received an email from Cindy, the receptionist:
All female employees are advised that they may leave early today if they wish, since the “skirt-shortening” effect is still happening. However, they are encouraged to stay for as long as they feel comfortable doing so, since this is a standard business day for our vendors and customers, and we should attempt to maintain the appearance of normalcy if at all possible. I strongly request that all employees refrain from discussing this matter with anybody outside the company. We will be inviting a scientist to come and monitor the effect as soon as possible today, and any female employees that choose to remain here are encouraged to participate in an analysis of the effect. This may include multiple measurements of your skirt or pants over the course of the day. Thank you. Best regards, Cindy.
Well, I’m off then, said Mia in an instant message.
I’m going to stick around for a while, responded Hannah. See you tomorrow.
At about ten o’clock, Hannah spotted out of the corner of her eye a rather puzzled-looking young man walking down the aisle with Stacey. She turned her seat around and got to her feet.
“And this is the operations planning department,” Stacey was saying. “Hannah is one of our planners – Hannah, I’d like you to meet Jeremy Cummins, a grad student from the university.”
“Hello,” said Hannah, extending her hand.
The man shook it. “So, uh, your skirt has been shrinking too?” he inquired.
“Yes,” said Hannah. “This morning it’s lost about two-and-a-half inches.”
“Do you mind if I … uh … measure it?” he asked.
“Sure,” said Hannah.
He did so, made a note on his clipboard, and went on his way. Hannah returned to her work.
Half an hour later, Jeremy returned, and took another measurement. “Fascinating!” he said, his earlier shyness gone. “Either this is a bona fide phenomenon, or you’re all pulling the most elaborate stunt I’ve ever heard of. Would you mind if I just sit here in your cubicle for half an hour, and take measurements every five minutes?”
“Be my guest,” said Hannah, and over the next thirty minutes she allowed him to take six more measurements.
“Unbelievable,” he said, shaking his head. “Thank you, Hannah – I will return a little later.”
Hannah’s skirt was by this time grazing the top of her knee. An hour later, it was at least an inch higher. Jeremy returned. “At what time do you normally take lunch?” he inquired.
“Now-ish,” said Hannah. “I usually have it in the kitchen.”
“And yesterday, when you had lunch, did your skirt continue to shrink while you were in the kitchen?”
“I believe so,” said Hannah, nodding.
“Very well – let us test the hypothesis that the phenomenon is confined to this building,” said Jeremy. “Would you care to spend your lunch hour helping me out with that?”
“Okay,” said Hannah. “Where do you want me?”
“Let’s start on the patio outside the front of the building,” said Jeremy.
So Hannah spent ten minutes pacing up and down the patio, while Jeremy measured her skirt every couple of minutes. “No change,” said Jeremy. “Why don’t you step just inside the front door?”
After ten minutes, he nodded excitedly. “Yes, the boundary for the phenomenon does indeed appear to be the door. Your skirt has shrunk by five millimetres, give or take, in the past ten minutes. About a fifth of an inch. This accords with my previous estimates of thirty-two millimetres an hour for skirts and dresses.”
“It’s the same for everyone?” asked Hannah in surprise.
“Everyone wearing a skirt or dress,” said Jeremy. “Pants seem to shrink faster – at a rate of fifty-six to fifty-eight millimetres per hour. Incredible!”
“But you’re no nearer finding out why?” inquired Hannah.
“No – I haven’t a clue on that score,” said Jeremy. “Right now I’m just observing and documenting the phenomenon. Now let’s try the side door – see if the boundary applies to the entire building and all its exits.”
By one o’clock, Jeremy had determined, with Hannah’s help, that this was indeed the case: the phenomenon was specific to the building. Nevertheless, he continued throughout the afternoon, and finally presented his findings to John and Stacey at five o’clock. Hannah had stuck around longer than she had intended, because she was curious as to Jeremy’s conclusions and John’s reaction – and now her skirt was more than halfway up her thighs. She hovered around the doorway of John’s office, listening to the two men’s conversation.
“I’d like to come back tomorrow,” Jeremy was saying, “with a team of colleagues.”
“Tomorrow is Saturday,” said John. “The office will be closed.”
“Can I have a key, then? Or can someone come and open up for us? I think it’s important to get to the bottom of this.”
“I guess so,” said John. “I’ll meet you here at nine o’clock tomorrow, then. What other tests do you anticipate taking?”
“A couple of different tests,” said Jeremy. “I’d like to purchase three identical skirts. One will be left at the university, one will be worn by a colleague of mine, and one will be brought with us to sit on a desk here. I would like to know if skirts will shrink even when nobody is wearing them. I would also like to be able to compare a shortened skirt with an identical one that has not been shortened, and see if I can figure out the mechanism for the shortening by comparing the two skirts back at the lab.”
“Makes sense,” said John, nodding.
“Also I’d like to see just how far the shrinkage will go,” said Jeremy. “Hopefully one of my colleagues will be willing to wear a miniskirt, and we’ll see whether it disappears completely or comes to a halt somewhere. Perhaps only the waistband will remain. Who knows?”
“All right,” said John. “I guess I can give up my Saturday in the name of scientific research. Particularly if it will mean figuring out how we can run a business here without having to send all the female employees home early.”
Hannah retreated at this point, and returned to her desk, where she packed up and left.
*******************************
On Monday morning, she arrived at work in an ankle-length skirt. She knew that it would probably get shorter, and she had resolved to ask Stacey if the company would reimburse her for any new skirts that she would have to buy. She certainly felt entitled to compensation.
Jeremy was there again, to her surprise. He met her at her cubicle and greeted her. “Hi,” he said. “Hannah, would you be willing to help me out again with my research?”
“Sure,” she said. “What happened on Saturday?”
“Well,” said Jeremy, “it was most disappointing. We brought in two identical skirts, one of which was worn by my colleague Karen. The other was left on a desk. The one on the desk did not shrink at all – which I half expected – but unfortunately neither did Karen’s. Either the effect does not work on weekends, or it has stopped entirely, or it only works on employees of your company, or it only works when a certain person is in the building – there could be any number of possibilities. So – I was hoping you would be willing to conduct the test yourself?”
“Oh!” said Hannah. “Well, I guess so. You want me to wear a different skirt?”
“Yes – this one, to be precise,” said Jeremy, handing her a short khaki skirt. “Just for an hour, perhaps – that should give us plenty to work on.”
Hannah nodded. “Give me a minute, then – I’ll go and change.”
She took the skirt to the restroom and changed in one of the stalls. When she returned, she folded up her longer skirt and laid it over her bag.
“I already have a measurement for the skirt,” said Jeremy, “so I’ll come back in an hour, okay?”
“Okay,” said Hannah.
An hour later, sure enough, the skirt had shortened by approximately an inch and a quarter. Hannah went back into the restroom, changed, and handed the khaki skirt back to Jeremy. He took it, then said, “There’s one other test I’d like you to help me with, if you’re willing.” He was not looking her in the eye as he said this.
“Oh?” said Hannah guardedly.
“I was hoping on Saturday to test exactly how far a skirt would shrink. Would it completely disappear? Or would it stop somewhere? Would the shrinkage slow down at all?”
“So you want me to wear a miniskirt until it disappears?” asked Hannah incredulously.
Jeremy nodded. “If you’d be willing, yes please.”
“No!” said Hannah hotly. “Absolutely not!”
Jeremy sighed. “All right, I’m sorry. It’s just that my colleague Karen is here today, and wearing a skirt, and it’s not getting any shorter. So the effect appears to apply only to employees.”
Hannah’s brow furrowed. “That’s … weird,” she said.
“Everything about this is weird!” said Jeremy. “And it could have enormous implications for physics. That’s why we have to get to the bottom of the matter. And right now, I know of no other way than researching every possible aspect of the effect – and that includes observing it progress to its natural conclusion.” He ran a hand through his hair. “If you won’t volunteer, can you think of anyone else who might?”
Hannah immediately thought of Mia, but then a strange proprietary feeling came upon her – of all the employees, she had so far been the most immersed in this research, and she found herself somewhat reluctant to pass the baton to someone else. “Let me go and talk to my boss,” she said. “I’ll see if he can arrange a bit of privacy for me, if I’m to be wearing a skirt of indecent length.”
Jeremy smiled. “Thanks Hannah!” he said.
Glen was not happy with the idea. “Hannah, I can’t condone you wearing a micro-skirt, or less, even in the name of scientific research,” he said. “If you want to do that on your own time, and in your own home, then that’s fine, but this is a business!”
“But the effect only happens here, in this office!” said Hannah. “If we’re to figure out what the heck is going on here, shouldn’t we let the scientist do his job?”
“I’ll take it up with John,” he said. “But I don’t suppose he’ll like the idea any more than I do.”
Hannah nodded. “All right,” she said with a sigh. She had a feeling Glen was right – John was unlikely to go for it.
But John, apparently, was anxious enough to solve the mystery that he was willing to try almost anything. “He says you can cooperate with Jeremy in this matter,” said Glen severely, “as long as you work in Keith’s office today. Keep the door shut while you are wearing the skirt in question, and if you have to come out, change into a longer one. Don’t let anyone see you apart from Jeremy.”
“All right,” Hannah nodded. Keith was on vacation this week, and his office had a solid wooden door with no window, so it was a good solution. There were windows either side of the door, to be sure, but these were small, and people were unlikely to stop and stare through them.
“Okay,” said Jeremy, handing Hannah another skirt, “put this on. It’s eleven inches long, so I’m afraid that even if you put it on now, it won’t have completely disappeared by five o’clock. It will be sometime tomorrow morning before that happens – assuming the shrinkage continues unabated, of course.”
“God, it’s awfully short!” remarked Hannah, looking at the garment with distaste.
“That’s kind of the idea,” said Jeremy.
“All right,” said Hannah. She went and sat down behind the desk. “Close the door on your way out – I might as well change here.”
Jeremy left her alone, and she changed into the miniskirt. For a while, she watched the hemline suspiciously, but if it was getting shorter (and presumably it was) it was happening too slowly for her to see it. With a sigh, she got on with some work and tried to ignore the skirt.
By eleven o’clock, it was very noticeably shorter, and she needed to use the restroom. She got to her feet and felt around the hem of the skirt, front and back. She estimated that it was currently covering her buttocks with two inches to spare, perhaps less. Not completely indecent, but still too revealing to allow anyone else in the office to see. She quickly pulled on her other skirt over the top, went to the bathroom, and returned.
She contemplated keeping both skirts on – where was the harm in this? But perhaps it might compromise the experiment in some way – and she did not want to have to repeat it. So she took off her longer skirt, and sat down at Keith’s desk in what was now very much a micro-mini.
By lunchtime, hardly any of the skirt remained between her bottom and the seat cushion. She ate at her desk, and browsed the internet for a while, enjoying the fact that for once nobody could sneak up behind her and give her a hard time about the inappropriate usage of company resources. Of course, the IT guys would know, but they probably used the internet plenty themselves and would be unlikely to rat her out. So conventional wisdom ran, anyway – and in truth, nobody had got into trouble over internet usage without a manager or director actually catching them in the act.
At one o’clock, Hannah checked the skirt again – it was now pretty much exactly at buttock level. There was a knock on the door, and she hurriedly sat down and scooted her chair forward so that the desk concealed her bare legs. “Come in!” she said.
It was Jeremy. “Hi,” he said. “I was wondering if I could measure your skirt?”
“Not a chance,” she replied firmly. “I’m not having you or anyone see me in this.”
“Then how do you expect me to…” he began.
“Go outside and I’ll change into my other skirt,” she said. “Then you can have this one for measuring. Once you’re done, give it back, and I’ll change into it again.”
“Fair enough,” he said. He backed out and closed the door.
Two skirt changes later, Hannah went back to working on the June production schedule. For the next four hours, Jeremy did not bother her. At half past four, Hannah began to wonder if he had forgotten about her. She even began to worry that everybody else had left, and she was the only person still here. Then Jeremy knocked on the door again. “Hello?” he said from the other side.
“Wait there,” she replied. She got up, took off what was left of the microskirt, and put her own skirt back on. “Okay you can come in.”
Jeremy entered, and his eyebrows rose in surprise as she handed him the khaki skirt. “It’s not nearly as short as I expected,” he said. “The rate of shrinkage must have slowed or stopped, I’m guessing.” He measured the garment carefully. “Yes – definitely. If you wouldn’t mind putting it back on, I’ll measure it again in half an hour. Then we’ll know for sure whether it has slowed or stopped.” He handed the skirt back to her.
Half an hour later, another measurement confirmed that the skirt had, indeed, stopped shrinking at a little over five inches. This was short enough to leave a couple of inches of Hannah’s buttocks uncovered at the back, and, if she dared to wear the skirt in public, people would even be able to catch a glimpse of her panties from the front, peeping beneath the hem.
She would never, ever, consider wearing such a skirt in public, of course. Once Jeremy was safely out of the room, she swapped skirts again and then gave what was left of the khaki skirt back to Jeremy.
*******************************
The next day, John himself sent an email to the entire office:
Investigations of the bizarre phenomenon which has caused the recent shrinkage of women’s clothing have revealed that this building is to blame. At great cost, therefore, we plan to undertake an emergency move to another building. As you can imagine, this is a logistical nightmare at such short notice, and I ask you all to pull together to ensure that the move goes smoothly. We will be relocating this coming weekend to 157 State Street, where we will regrettably be operating under more cramped conditions for a while. Please would you all ensure that your computer, monitor, keyboard, telephone and chair are clearly labeled with your full name and your new cubicle number (see the seating plan in the attached Visio document). All other items belonging to you, including your mouse and mouse mat, should be packed into one of the boxes which you will find stacked outside the kitchen. You will need to label your box clearly with your name and new cubicle number. Please plan to be at 157 State Street at 11:00am on Saturday to unpack your belongings into your new cubicle. This will ensure that on Monday morning, it will be business as usual. Your phone numbers will remain the same in the new office. Any questions about the move, please ask Cindy. In the meantime, for the rest of this week I cannot insist that female employees come to work – however, those who continue to work despite the clothing shrinkage problem will be duly recognized for their dedication in their next quarterly reviews. Thank you.
Hannah had come to work today in a knee-length skirt. She had intended to work just half a day, but it occurred to her that going home at five o’clock (and making sure that Stacey saw just how short her skirt was by that time) would press home to her the sacrifice she was making in the name of keeping the company running smoothly.
A few other women chose to stay for the whole day. Word had got around that trousers would shrink faster than skirts, and thus some of the women, including Stacey, had swapped their more usual choice of long trousers for an equally long skirt. This meant that at five o’clock they still had respectable knee-length hemlines. Hannah, whose hemline was scandalously short by the time she left, felt very embarrassed about how much of her legs was on display, and she sneaked out a few minutes late, without even letting Stacey see her.
By the end of the week, Hannah was out of long skirts – her longest was just shy of knee length, and her shortest was the one she had worn on Tuesday, which covered her bottom with just an inch or so to spare. On Friday she wore jeans, which by five o’clock had become fairly ordinary-looking denim shorts. She labelled her chair, phone and computer equipment, packed up the rest in a box, and labelled that too.
Unpacking her office belongings the following morning did not take long, so she went shopping and bought herself a couple of long skirts. She had been advised by Stacey that the company would be giving all female employees a “clothing bonus” to cover the costs of their shrunken skirts and trousers, but she saved the receipts just in case.
On Monday, everything seemed to be back to normal, except for the change of office. Hannah was in a smaller cubicle now, but she did not mind – she still had space enough. At nine o’clock she reached down to rub her calf – and frowned. Was it her imagination, or had her skirt shrunk? She stood up and looked down at her ankles – yes, it did look rather as if it had.
She called Stacey’s phone. “Hi Stacey – um, have you measured your pants lately?”
Stacey confirmed what Hannah had suspected: the skirt-shortening effect was still occurring. Apparently it was not confined to the other building after all.
John was incensed. The move had cost a lot of money, and it had apparently been in vain. Almost everyone in the office could hear him ranting at his superior at the corporate headquarters in Chicago, in a phone call that lasted well over half an hour. Afterwards, Stacey went to see him, but she emerged from his office at a run. A rumour began to spread that John had decided to defy his boss’s instructions, and arrange an immediate move back to the old building. Hannah thought this highly unlikely.
And she was right – no plans for a return to the old building were announced. However, at three o’clock in the afternoon, she was astonished to see the following email from John:
All,
It seems that the clothing problem is not going away. It is obviously not a practical solution for employees to have to buy new clothing every other day, nor can the company afford to foot the bill for this. Therefore all female employees will be issued with a linen wrap, which they should tie around their waist in place of a regular skirt or pants. This should preserve employees’ modesty while eliminating the need to replace skirts or pants. You may pick up your wrap from the Halifax conference room from first thing tomorrow morning. Please note that females are not required to wear a wrap instead of a skirt or pants, but it is strongly recommended that you do so. A cheque for $500 will be issued to all female employees for clothing damage sustained thus far, but no further monies will be dispensed on account of this issue. We are proposing a reasonable solution to the problem – if any female employee continues to wear a skirt or pants, the company will not be legally responsible for damage sustained. If you feel that $500 does not cover the damage sustained to your skirts and pants up to this point, you must present your damaged clothing to Josie Clark along with your estimate of the cost of replacing each item. You must do this by 5:00pm on Wednesday. After that time, no further claims will be indulged. Best regards, John.
Half of the women had already gone home, but the following morning there was a full complement of staff, and all the women converged on the Halifax conference room to pick up their wraps. Hannah took hers into the restroom and, once in a cubicle, she removed her skirt. Putting the wrap around her waist, she tied it off at one side and inspected it critically. It was hardly the height of fashion, she thought, but it would do. It came down to her ankles, and overlapped plenty, so that her legs would remain covered no matter how large her stride.
She returned to her desk. Ten minutes later, she sent a document to the printer, and got up to retrieve it. Immediately she gasped and stared down at her legs – the wrap had shrunk. And not just a little – already the hem had crept up almost to her knees.
“Jessica!” she hissed. “How’s your wrap?”
There was a gasp from the next cubicle. “Oh my God!” exclaimed Jessica. “It’s shrinking faster than anything!”
They went to see Stacey, who had not even noticed yet. As soon as she saw Hannah and Jessica, however, her eyes widened and she pushed her chair back to look at her own legs. “Damnit!” she said. She picked up the phone.
“John, we have a problem,” she said. “The wraps are shrinking faster than either skirts or pants do.”
Hannah could not hear John’s reply, but she saw Stacey recoil from the phone. After a short interchange, Stacey put the phone down.
“He’s calling an emergency meeting of the directors,” she said. “No doubt he’ll be sending out another email shortly. In the meantime, I guess we all have no choice but to change back into our regular clothes.”
“Jeez!” said Jessica. “What about that scientist guy? Hasn’t he come up with any ideas for how to stop this?”
“He wasn’t much interested in solutions,” said Stacey. “He was far more keen on studying the phenomenon and figuring out useful applications for it. His only practical suggestion for us was that we move out of the old building – which we did. Possibly John will invite him back to continue his research, but I don’t know. Now if you’ll excuse me…”
The emergency meeting lasted two hours. Hannah, back in one of her new long skirts (the only one that was still long), was itching to know what was being said. All over the office, men and women were huddled together, debating the issue and coming up with their own theories about the future of the company. Would the office be shut down? Would all of its employees, male and female, find themselves out of a job by the end of the week?
The meeting disbanded, and, half an hour later, the following email arrived in Hannah’s inbox:
All,
As you know, the wraps did not work. We are rapidly running out of options here. Vince McDowell is of the opinion that our office should close permanently, its functions being reassigned to the Chicago and Pittsburgh locations. He is willing to be persuaded, however, that this is not a necessary step. In order to persuade him of that, I need your help. While we will continue to strive for a solution to the clothing shrinkage problem, we must concede for the short term that the effect is a fact of life here in this office. It is also regrettably a fact that the company cannot afford to continue to replace female employees’ shrunken clothing as often as this will no doubt prove necessary. Employment here is “at will”, but I do not wish to terminate anybody’s employment for trivial reasons. I have therefore persuaded head office to offer the option of voluntary redundancy for any female employee who does not wish to remain working here under these circumstances. This option will be open until the end of the week. The redundancy payment will be two weeks’ salary – this is all that head office would allow. Those not wishing to take up this offer must, regrettably, live with the unfortunate consequences of continuing to work here. No compensation will be offered for future damage to clothing. As you may know, skirts apparently stop shrinking just after the point at which underwear becomes visible. Pants apparently continue to shrink until they are the size of underwear. For any women who continue to work here, the company’s dress code will necessarily be modified to allow the wearing of skirts of any length, even to the extent of revealing underwear. All employees are reminded that the sexual harassment rules are very clear on the subject of staring and suggestive comments regarding clothing. If any female employees remain here, all employees must ignore the short skirts and underwear that will surely be visible. I am sure that you all can be trusted to deal with this difficult situation in a mature manner; indeed, all of our jobs depend on your doing so. Please note that no further absenteeism on account of the clothing shrinkage effect will be tolerated after today. Thank you. Best regards, John.
Hannah was stunned. She stood up and looked over into Jessica’s cubicle. “Have you read it?” she asked.
Jessica looked up and nodded. “I guess I’d better start looking for another job,” she said.
“You’re going to take the redundancy?” asked Hannah.
“Aren’t you?” asked Jessica.
Hannah shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said. “I like it here! Glen’s a good boss, and I enjoy what I do. It just seems, I don’t know, such a waste to throw that away just because…”
“Just because it means you’ll have to show your panties around the office?” inquired Jessica. “I’d say that’s a pretty big negative!”
“It is,” agreed Hannah. “I’ll have to think about it.”
And she did think about it. The following day, she decided to try an experiment, to see if she could bear to work in an office while wearing a skirt so short that it revealed her panties. She bravely put on her shortest skirt – the one she had worn this time last week – and drove to work with her heart pounding.
If her colleagues were surprised to see her in such a tiny skirt, they did not say so, though there were a few red faces amongst the men as they said good morning and hurried on their way. Hannah was almost amused at their reactions, but she could not help feeling terribly exposed and embarrassed.
By eleven o’clock, her skirt had stopped shrinking. If she looked down at her skirt, while sitting at her desk, she could see her white panties. Almost none of the skirt remained between her buttocks and her seat cushion. When she got up to go to the restroom, she looked both ways down the aisle before making a break for it. Once inside a cubicle, however, she realized that she could not spend her days in hiding – sooner or later she would have to just get over her anxiety, and to hell with anyone who looked at her revealed panties with scorn. Either that, or she would have to quit.
Somehow she made it through the rest of the day. Nobody commented on her skirt, and nobody stared – at least not that she was aware of. After work, she drove home, and then hurried indoors as quickly as she could. She realised that it would be sensible to take a longer skirt with her from now on, so that she could change in the car before entering the office, and upon leaving it.
The next day was a little easier. She tried to ignore her skirt, and simply went about her daily duties as usual. At one point Stacey, who was currently wearing a knee-length skirt, asked her how she was doing.
“Fine,” she replied. “I think I’m getting used to it.”
“Good,” said Stacey. “We need more like you – we’re losing female staff left and right.”
“Yes, I notice Jessica’s not here today,” said Hannah.
“At the last count, eighteen women have accepted voluntary redundancy,” said Stacey. “I expect there will be more. That’s eighteen positions, at least, that we’re going to have to fill with untrained personnel – and those who would train them will not be here to do so. It’s a complete catastrophe. I’d hate to replace all of them with men, but I’m sure there aren’t many women who would apply for a job here if they knew what lay in store.”
“Are you staying?” asked Hannah.
“Yes,” said Stacey with a sigh. “And I suppose I’ll have to bite the bullet and get used to wearing skirts as short as yours. It’ll be tough, though – the men will treat us differently, even if they don’t mean to.”
Hannah nodded. “Well, I for one am not going to put up with any of that,” she said.
Stacey laughed. “Good for you, Hannah!” she said. “Neither will I.”
By the end of the week, twenty-six out of thirty-five women had left the company with nothing but a cheque for two weeks’ pay to show for it. Four of them had been managers; two had been directors. On Friday afternoon, the press showed up – someone had been talking. John refused them entry, but they managed to snap a few photos of microskirt-wearing women, including Hannah, through the windows.
She had to work late that night – half of her department had quit, and there was an enormous amount of work to do. She was not even considering taking the redundancy offer now – her stubborn streak was kicking in and she was determined to face this adversity head-on. She had always been the type to rise to the occasion under pressure – now was her opportunity to shine.
Her dedication was about to be rewarded. At seven-thirty, Glen called her into his office. “I’ve been promoted,” he said, “into Maggie’s position.”
“Director of Operations?” exclaimed Hannah. “Congratulations Glen! You totally deserve it.”
He smiled, though he still looked stressed. “Thanks,” he said. “Of course, that leaves my position open. I was wondering if you would care to fill it…?”
Hannah’s jaw dropped. “Oh wow!” she said. “Are you serious?”
“Very much so,” he said. “We’re suddenly very short of experienced personnel, and we need someone of your calibre and obvious dedication to take over the day to day running of the Ops Planning department. So – are you interested?”
“Of course!” she said, her eyes shining. “I’ll take it! Um – I assume there will be a salary increase…?”
Glen nodded. “It will reflect your time with the company and the elevated responsibility that the job brings. How does forty-nine sound?”
“It sounds good!” said Hannah. “Almost as good as … fifty.”
Glen chuckled. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Plus an extra week’s vacation,” added Hannah.
“I’m sure that won’t be a problem,” said Glen. “On Monday, unfortunately you’ll still have to mostly continue with your current job functions, since apart from you, only Dan is left to do the planning. Also, though, you’ll have to interview some temps. I’ll try to sit in on those interviews, but it’ll be your show – you know better than I what the job requires.”
“Okay!” she said. “Thanks Glen!”
She did not even care that her panties were showing, front and back, as she trotted out to the car. For one thing it was getting dark, but also she was too happy and excited to care about such a trivial matter. She was finally a manager! On fifty-thousand a year! It was an awesome vindication of her decision to stick with the company.
*******************************
The Sunday newspaper held a nasty shock for her – a picture of her, in the office, with her panties showing! The headline read, “Women Quit Local Company Over Scandalous New Dress Code”. The article did not mention that the skirts had shrunk by themselves, and it implied that the dress code was a publicity stunt being pulled by the management – conveniently glossing over the fact that no reporters had been allowed into the building. Hannah was incensed … but the article in no way made her reconsider her decision – if anything it stiffened her resolve.
It was with a feeling almost of pride that she put on one of her micro-minis the next morning. When she arrived at work, half an hour early, she started out by moving her things into Glen’s office, since he had apparently already moved out. Then she got stuck into the production schedule, and by nine o’clock she had put out most of the fires that had sprung up over the weekend.
At half past nine she had her first interview. Glen unfortunately was not able to join her, as he was on a conference call, so she took the young man’s résumé and looked it over. He was rather under-qualified, but for all she knew he might be the best of a bad bunch, so she gave him plenty of opportunities to convince her of his adequacy. In this he failed.
An hour later, the second interviewee arrived – a young woman named Claire. She had had a little more experience with the manufacturing industry, and possessed strong analytical skills, according to her résumé. Familiarity with Microsoft Excel and Access helped, too. “This is good stuff,” said Hannah. “But I know you’re probably itching to ask about the skirts, so I’ll put you out of your misery.”
Claire smiled nervously. “Yes, I must admit it’s a bit alarming.”
“Three weeks ago, nearly, all the women in this company – at least the ones in this branch – suddenly discovered that their skirts were shrinking. Dresses and pants too – all getting shorter as the day went on. It sounds crazy, but it’s absolutely true. We got a scientist in from the university to try to figure out what was going on. Unfortunately he did not, but he did take a lot of measurements and figured out some things about how the problem manifests itself. Last time I spoke to him, which was on Saturday actually, he said he was in the process of writing a paper on the subject. Which is all well and good, but it doesn’t really help us much. We tried moving offices, we tried wearing wraps instead of skirts – but nothing has worked, and the company is tired of throwing money at the problem. So last week, the company offered voluntary redundancy to those women who were unwilling to work under these conditions. Unfortunately, most of them accepted redundancy, and now we have this major staffing shortage.”
Claire shook her head in amazement. “I’d heard rumours, but – this is pretty hard to believe.”
“You’ll get to experience it first-hand soon enough,” said Hannah, “if you get the job. And if you’re still interested.”
“I don’t know,” said Claire doubtfully. “Would I have to wear a skirt as short as…”
“As short as mine? No, you don’t have to, but I think you’ll find it hard to avoid. You can come to work in a different ankle-length skirt every day, if you like, but you’ll soon find yourself with nothing but knee-length skirts to wear, and after that, nothing but micro-minis. Unless you have a lot of money to spend on clothes, I find it’s simpler just to wear skirts that are already as short as they’re going to get.”
“They stop shrinking at that length, then?” asked Claire.
“Yes,” said Hannah. “Well, thanks for coming. I’ll let you know very soon.”
Claire said thank you, and left, with a final troubled glance at Hannah’s panties. Hannah returned to work, and had managed to get the schedule in reasonable shape by the time her next interviewee arrived. This interview was prematurely cut short when the man, a forty-something shop floor veteran, commented that Hannah’s skirt was “wicked hot”.
The fourth and final interview was at two o’clock. Hannah liked the guy – a dynamic young man with an engineering degree – but he seemed over-qualified and she was worried that he would find the job rather dull, and would not stick around long. Still, she could not afford to be too choosy – she had three positions to fill.
She called Claire first. “Can you start tomorrow?” she asked.
Claire had apparently been thinking about the matter. “You said this was a temp to hire position?” she asked.
“Yes, that’s right,” said Hannah. “And if you like the position, and fit in well, we’d probably be looking to take you on permanently pretty quickly, since we’re so short of staff now. You’ll be temping through the agency, but if you become permanent, you’ll be our employee.”
“All right,” said Claire, “I’ll take it.”
“Excellent!” said Hannah, relieved. “I’m so glad – I was afraid that all of the empty positions would end up being filled by men.”
“So – what should I wear tomorrow?” asked Claire.
“Business casual,” said Hannah. “Just bear in mind that skirts get shorter at a rate of an inch and a quarter per hour, and pants shrink almost twice as fast as that. You can wear whatever length of skirt you like, but eventually they’ll all end up short enough to show a bit of your panties. If you can handle that, you’ll do well here.”
“Okay,” said Claire. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
*******************************
The next day, Claire showed up in a knee-length black skirt and a yellow blouse. Hannah set to work training her, and was pleased to see how quickly Claire picked it up. Claire, for her part, seemed to be enjoying the learning process, but she uttered an exclamation of horror when she saw that her skirt had got shorter over the past two hours.
“Damn,” said Hannah. “I was actually hoping you might be spared, since you’re a temp and not on the company’s payroll. I guess not, though.”
“I … I didn’t really believe it!” said Claire, staring in horrified fascination at her hemline.
Hannah nodded. “It’s incredible, really … I mean, it’s impossible actually, according to the laws of physics. Yet it’s happening, and the scientist is writing a paper on it. God knows what conclusions he’s drawing. But yeah, you really have to experience it to believe it.”
She conducted three more interviews that day. Two of the candidates were women, both of whom were horrified at the idea of wearing a microskirt to work, and would not even consider taking the position once the situation had been made clear to them. The third candidate was a young man, Brian, who could hardly keep his eyes off Hannah’s panties – and who thus eliminated himself from the running.
She called Tristan, the engineer she had interviewed the previous day, and offered him a position, which he accepted. Then she met with Glen.
“I’m so sorry I haven’t been present for the interviews,” he said. “Things are a bit chaotic right now. How’s the new girl working out? Carrie is it?”
“Claire,” said Hannah. “She’s great. I also just hired a guy with a degree in engineering – Tristan, his name is. Overqualified, but today’s candidates were a dead loss so I didn’t feel like I had much choice.”
“So we still need to fill one position?” said Glen. “Damn – those were the only candidates the agency could send us this week. What about that dispatcher guy – Brian, was it?”
“I didn’t like him,” said Hannah guardedly. She did not like to say why.
“Oh? Why not? What was wrong with him?”
Hannah sighed. “He was staring.”
“Oh,” said Glen. “Hmm. A pity – his résumé was pretty promising. Perhaps if we make it very clear to him that staring won’t be tolerated…?”
“It’s your call,” said Hannah with a shrug. “He’s young – I suppose he can be taught the error of his ways.”
“If he doesn’t work out, we’ll let him go,” said Glen. “Hopefully by then the agency will have found some more candidates to send us.”
“And in the meantime, we’ll have wasted hours on training the wrong person,” said Hannah.
“Don’t write him off yet,” said Glen.
So she called Brian and offered him the job. Unsurprisingly, he accepted with enthusiasm. Hannah put the phone down, and went back to training Claire, whose skirt was getting close to crotch height.
“How are you coping?” she asked.
“Fine,” said Claire. “I’ve been exploring the production system and finding all kinds of useful bits of information, but some of the codes are a little cryptic – perhaps you could explain what they mean?”
“I certainly can,” said Hannah, “but actually I meant: how are you coping with the skirt thing?”
“Oh,” said Claire, looking down at her bare legs. “I guess if it’s a fact of life here, I’ll just have to deal. And if I can’t, I’ll let you know.”
Hannah nodded. “Good for you,” she said. “If you do stick around, you’ll be in good company, at least – it seems like all the women who are still here have resigned themselves to wearing skirts of this length.” She indicated her own panty-revealing microskirt.
Five o’clock rolled around, but Hannah stayed on to finish up some work. It was six-thirty by the time she left. On the way home, she remembered that she had run out of milk that morning, so she pulled into the car park of her local supermarket, and she was almost out of her car when she realised that she was still wearing her microskirt. Moreover, she had not remembered to bring a longer skirt with her. She bit her lip, considering her options, and for a moment almost plucked up the courage to brave the crowds … but then she chickened out, closed the car door, and drove home.
Her answering machine had a message on it, which she played. When she heard the voice of her ex, Chad, she groaned and deleted the message without listening to any more. She changed into a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, and stuck a frozen meal into the microwave.
Later that evening, as she was watching television, her eyelids began to droop, and she arranged the couch cushions so that she could lie down more comfortably. She would get up at the end of the show, she decided, and get ready for bed.
At three o’clock in the morning she awoke to find her cat, Pippin, climbing over her face. She grumbled at him and pushed him away, then she groggily sat up and switched the television off. Slouching upstairs, she brushed her teeth and washed her face. As she was getting into bed, however, she noticed something that made her gasp: her sweatpants had got shorter. She had been too sleepy to notice before, but washing her face had revived her a bit, and now it was plain to see that they had shrunk significantly. Not wishing for them to shrink any more, she took them off and climbed into bed in just her t-shirt and panties.
*******************************
At work the following day, she spoke with Stacey. “Have your clothes started shrinking at home?” she asked.
Stacey nodded. “I noticed last night,” she said. “But I think it might have started earlier.”
“That really sucks,” grumbled Hannah. “So now we have to wear microskirts at home as well as here?”
“Well that’s up to you,” said Stacey. “In the summer months, I’m going to wear skirts and pants as little as possible while I’m at home.”
Hannah nodded. “Winter’s going to be a problem though,” she said.
By now, people seemed to be getting used to seeing panties around the office. Brian, Hannah’s latest recruit, was given a stern lecture by Glen about staring at the women, and by and large he seemed to take this advice to heart. He was a lot slower than Claire when it came to learning the systems, and training him was more frustrating, but he did seem to be getting it in his own way. Tristan, by contrast, was a dream to teach, and soon caught up to Claire’s level.
The next morning, Glen came to see Hannah in her new office. “I forgot to tell you,” he said. “Your opposite number’s flying in from Chicago. Hal Bradshaw. Can you meet him at the airport in an hour?”
Hannah’s face fell – she had not brought a decent skirt with her. In fact, although she had planned to do so every day, she had only remembered once. “Glen, my skirt!” she said. “Not in a public place!”
Glen sighed. “Very well, I guess I’ll send Dan.”
This unsettled Hannah. Dan was now her underling, but it must have been a tough call for Glen whether to promote Dan or herself into his old position. Dan was the senior employee, but he was neither as dedicated nor as knowledgeable as Hannah. Still, she did not like to see him given a job she should be doing.
“All right, I’ll go,” she said.
She had met Hal before, and knew what he looked like, but as she anxiously scanned the emerging passengers in the Arrivals lounge, she was rather distracted by the whispered comments around her. She had to endure half an hour of this torment before he finally appeared. With a huge sigh of relief, she waved to him and rushed to meet him.
“Good God!” he exclaimed when he saw her skirt. “So Gerry wasn’t pulling my leg after all!”
“There’s no point in wearing a longer one,” she snapped, “because it just shrinks until it’s this size.”
“So I’ve heard,” said Hal, walking beside her towards the escalator. “Though I still find it hard to believe.”
“That’s understandable,” she admitted grudgingly. “But twenty-six women wouldn’t have walked out on the company for no good reason, Hal.”
“Twenty-six, was it?” he said. “Wow – so how many are left?”
“Nine who were here before, and we have three female temps who may or may not stay. One of them’s in my department – a girl called Claire. I really hope she can continue to deal well with the skirt-shortening thing – she’s very good and I’d love to make her permanent.”
“Hey – what the hell?” said Hal, turning around. “You little shits!”
They were halfway up the escalator. Hannah spun around just in time to see a couple of teenaged boys running back down, laughing. “What were they doing?” she asked.
“They had a camera phone,” said Hal grimly. “They were pointing it up your skirt – I assume they were taking pictures.”
Hannah blushed. “Damn,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting to have to be anywhere but in the office today. Otherwise I’d have brought a longer skirt or some pants with me.”
“Well if it’s any consolation, your panties look very nice,” said Hal.
Hannah’s cheeks were burning. “Watch it,” she said. “I could report you for sexual harassment – all the male staff have been strictly warned against making comments like that.”
“I apologise,” said Hal. “I missed that memo.”
As they returned to the car park, it occurred to Hannah to marvel at just how well she was coping with her exposure. Sure, she frequently had to place her hands either in front of her pussy or behind her bottom to obscure the view of her panties from passers-by, but even though she was attracting many stares, nobody was accosting her or giving her abuse from a distance, and she was not feeling nearly as humiliated and embarrassed as she would have expected.
Back at the office, it was a relief to be among other women who were also showing their panties. Compared to the airport, this environment seemed quite safe. Later that day, she caught Brian looking at her panties once, but he quickly looked the other way and hurried off before she could scold him.
As the days passed, and then the weeks, and spring turned into summer, Hannah actually got so used to wearing panty-revealing skirts that she started to wear them outside the house. Actually this was becoming unavoidable: almost all of her skirts were now the same length, and her jeans and other trousers had shrunk until they were the size of bikini-style panties. All she had left was a knee-length black skirt and a pair of khaki shorts, and she was keeping them for emergencies. So it was not unusual for Hannah to wander the aisles of the supermarket, or walk through the mall, or go to a fast-food joint, wearing her head-turning skirts, and she soon learned to ignore the wolf-whistles and comments, both hurtful and complimentary, that were tossed her way.