Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Author: Ribeye98
Title: Thornwood Episode III - In training
Part: 46 - 50 of 59
Summary: Rachel enters swim training while her spiral of arousal and
embarrassment continues.
Keywords: fsolo, mast, exhib, voy, humil, nc, mf, Mf, 1st, bd,
blackmail, toys, nosex
   **********************************************************************
Author's Note Copyright 2012 all rights reserved.  Please do not repost
this story on other sites without permission (ribeye98@gmail.com).  By
accessing this story, the reader hereby certifies that he/she is of an
appropriate age to access adult material and that such material is
permitted in the locality or country where the reader resides.  The
following is a creative work of fiction, and the characters or incidents
described do not resemble any persons or events in the real world.
   You can read the rest of this story at https://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Ribeye98/www/
**********************************************************************
Thornwood Episode III - In Training Part 46
   On a single shelf mounted high on one wall sat everything necessary to
complete her work uniform.
   "You should recognize this even with the alteration", Pierre pulled down
the same pleated mini skirt Rachel had been forced to leave behind last
Sunday.  Complete with blue ink stain, security tag, and missing top
button. The alteration consisted of a large white laminated sign sewn into
the back.  In bold black letters the sign read:
   PLEASE STOP ME AND READ THIS!  I am a thief.  I was caught stealing this
skirt.  This ink is proof.  Shoplifters will be prosecuted and punished. 
How may I assist you?
   Rachel groaned.  Every customer she passed would get the chance to learn
what she had done.  And the placement of the sign gave them an excuse to
stare at her bottom.
   **Well this couldn't get much worse.
   But things were becoming much worse by the second, for Pierre had
reached the most delicate part of his presentation.  To make her wear the
same skirt she had been caught stealing was appropriate.  To add an
embarrassing sign for a thief to walk around with was practically
obligatory and hardly unusual.  It could even be considered clich� by some.
To place it over her bottom added a harmless yet unique twist to the
punishment.  The next part was a little more daring.  That's where his
contingencies diverged.
   From the shelf he produced an airbrush machine he had borrowed from the
pop art studio in the mall.  Hooking it up as he had been taught, Pierre
casually explained the reason for it, "You are well aware of our new
advanced security system.  You demonstrated it nicely last week when the
ink tag stopped you from sneaking out with store merchandise.  Expanding on
the theme, I decided to integrate ink into your work uniform using this
spray gun.  It's a novel way to advertise our security system."
   **A little weird, but it does explain the plastic covered walls and
floor.
   Rachel spoke up, "So...you want me to spray a design on my
uniform...with permanent ink...on purpose?"
   "No, no" Pierre smiled, "You already have ink on your uniform.  This
calls for something more striking.  I want you to put the design
directly...on your person.  And it's not completely permanent.  I'm sure it
will wash off eventually with a little scrubbing.  "
   "Directly on my...?  Isn't that dangerous?"
   "Dangerous?  Not at all.  The ink is non-toxic and quite safe.  Have you
ever had a spray tan?  This is the same concept, only with ink." He opened
a 5 gallon bucket full of ominously heavy looking dark blue liquid and
inserted the tube from the airbrush pump.
   "You should have no trouble operating the spray gun; it's point and
shoot.  Feel free to make whatever design you fancy.  Might I suggest an
ink blot?  That would be appropriate yet simple.  I leave the artistry up
to you.  I only require that it be solid and prominent enough for people to
see from a distance."
   Pierre sprayed a blot outline on the hanging tarp to indicate the size
requirement and to act as a template, "I'd say no smaller than this.  I'll
be back in 5 minutes to check in on you", and then he walked out before
Rachel could recover enough to catch up to what just happened.
   As part of his clever and sinister scheme, Pierre had planned all along
to leave the room at that point.  He wanted her to weigh the proposal in
private.  Hopefully, she would take the opportunity to test it out before
deciding.  And once she started applying the ink she would be less likely
to back out.
   After a fair amount of time, Pierre would return to inspect her work. 
He intentionally made the template too big to fit anywhere but her torso.
Naturally, he would point out that the vest simply covered too much of the
masterpiece and insist she remove it.  He couldn't really insist, of
course. That's where the contingencies came in.
   Best case scenario he might get Rachel to work in her bra.  But if she
refused he would allow her keep the vest in exchange for something else. 
Maybe he would make her spray her arms or face instead.  His greatest
talent was adjusting to new developments on the fly.  He would come up with
something appropriately humiliating yet still legal.
   Rachel stared at the shape on the wall as Pierre's footsteps faded down
the hallway.  She always wondered what it would be like to get a spray tan.
But not like this.
   **What did I get myself into?
   More out of curiosity than anything she picked up the spray gun and
pointed it at a clear spot on the tarp.  She pressed the thumb trigger but
nothing happened.  So she slowly applied more pressure until the pump
suddenly jumped to life and a thin blue jet of ink flew from the tip right
where she was pointing.
   **Cool.
   Rachel forgot her assignment and played with the machine like a kid
coloring on walls.  Just then a bubble rose from the bottom of the bucket
and broke the surface.  The ink splashed on the floor by her feet.  She
jumped back just in time to avoid getting ink on her red and white strength
trainer shoes.
   **That was close.  Permanent ink or not, I can't risk messing up these
shoes.  In fact, I can't afford to ruin any more clothes.
   She stopped to remove her shoes, and then after locking the door,
proceeded to strip naked.  Looking around for the safest place, she stored
her articles on the high shelf then stepped back to the middle of the room.
She shivered.
   **This is crazy.
   Having come so far already, Rachel dared to take the next step and test
the ink on her body.  With a trembling hand, she picked up the sprayer and
turned toward the shape on the wall.  Obviously the blot would only fit on
her torso.  Since she couldn't reach or see to spray her back she concluded
that it would have to go on her stomach.
   Starting at her hip, she traced a thin line up the side to her stomach.
The first cold squirt caused another round of shivers and goose bumps rose
on her bare skin.  She compared it more to a tattoo than a tan; though she
would never consider getting a real tattoo.  But tattoo needles were
supposed to sting on contact and this was painless.  Encouraged but not yet
committed, she figured completing the outline wouldn't hurt anything.  So
mimicking the pattern on the wall and turning the gun in and out like a pro
she made sweeping curves up her body.
   Up onto her rib cage she went.  Holding her breath to reduce mistakes,
she carefully drew the line over her sternum just below her breasts and
started back down the other side.  Finishing on her other hip bone she had
made a wobbly arch over her belly button.
   Rachel appraised her handiwork with pride.  Though far from artistic
greatness, her foray into the world of spray art had thus far succeeded
without any serious blunders.  The next more difficult challenge remained.
Now that she had an outline, how was she supposed to fill it in?
   Unbeknownst to her, an adjustable nozzle on the spray gun allowed the
wielder to change the flow from thin precise detailing to broad strokes. 
But Pierre had not explained that particular feature, so Rachel was stuck
with the fine point setting.  Drawing zigzags diagonally across her
stomach, she filled the shape in as best she could.  Before long the
delicate curves of the original ink blob were lost in the mess.
   Rachel sensed her 5 minutes running out so she halted her hasty efforts
even though several scattered patches of white skin remained within a blue
blob.  While the ink dried, she adorned her work skirt.  From her shopping
trip with Susan last Sunday, this had been the one item she really liked.
The pleated skirt came down to mid thigh.  For once she wouldn't have to
worry about accidentally mooning someone.
   She fastened the off-center buttons; all but the missing top one.  When
she let go, the garment settled low on her waist.  Without that top button,
she couldn't tighten it as much as she would like.  Just as she twisted
around to check the sign on her bottom, she heard a knock at the door.
   "It's Pierre.  Are you ready?"
   "Just a second", Rachel grabbed her vest and prayed the ink was dry. 
She snapped the magnets closed over her chest and made one last modesty
check before opening the door.
   **This might not be so bad.  Yeah, it's embarrassing.  But you've been
through worse.
   She stood ready to report for duty, but Pierre had a few more changes in
store...TO BE CONTINUED
   Thornwood Episode III - In Training Part 47
   "tsk, tsk, tsk", Pierre made an annoying sound as he circled the nervous
girl.  It took much self control not to laugh at how silly she looked. 
Crooked scribbles crisscrossed her stomach while the sign on her bottom
served its attention drawing purpose to perfection.  When he had finished
the inspection, he announced his disappointing findings.
   "This will never do." The girl deflated at his words.  He pointed to the
shape on the wall, "First of all your design is much too small.  Make it
bigger."
   He calmly glided over his next proposal to reduce the shock and make it
sound less indecent, "And that vest...it's all wrong.  It gets in the way
too much.  You'll have to get rid of it.  Then there's the way you filled
in the..."
   "Hold on!  What did you say?" Rachel jumped to attention.  "I'm not
taking off my vest."
   Pierre stared down his challenger and wielded his prepared response,
"Rachel, you're missing the whole point of the ink.  It's meant to be worn
as an article of clothing.  Applied properly it becomes part of your work
uniform.  You don't wear your regular skirt over your work skirt.  So why
wear your vest over the ink?  A bra is ok, but the vest simply has no
place."
   "But I'm not wearing a bra!" Rachel shut her mouth and blushed at the
admission but remained defiant.
   This was even better than Pierre could imagine.  Based on their last
encounter, he should have expected something like that from the little
tart. He would have to modify his plan to incorporate the news.  He
specialized in adapting to the unexpected after all.
   "Hmm, that's unfortunate", he circled around behind her so she wouldn't
see him smirk.  Approaching the airbrush machine, he found the answer. 
"But, I think we can come up with a workable compromise."
   "Like I said, the ink is an article of clothing, if applied properly."
Pierre held his composure as he picked up the spray gun.  "You did not
apply properly, but I share some of the blame.  I should have shown you
this earlier."
   He demonstrated how to twist the nozzle then pointed it at the wall. 
Like magic a wide dark blue stroke appeared.  "If you use this setting, you
can create a smooth opaque layer.  No different than a tight fitting shirt.
Once you enlarge the shape, you won't need a bra."
   **Did he just suggest I work topless?
   "Are you kidding?" despite the manager's claim, even opaque ink was a
poor substitute for a real shirt.  Rachel reminded herself she didn't have
to accept his offer.  "Forget it", she stood firm.
   "Fine" Pierre conceded defeat with disgust.  He had pushed her to her
limit.  He hated to lose the fight but didn't want to get into trouble.  So
he backed off and picked another avenue of punishment; her department
assignment.  Sending her to a busy location with lots of customer traffic
would be a good way to exact his revenge.
   **Customer traffic is good.  But customer type is even better...
   Just then Pierre knew the perfect assignment.  But he needed to go scout
the area first and make preparations.  He had lost the battle over her
uniform and was ready to move on.  His next offer let her off the hook.
   "You desire an abbreviated sentence; therefore I shall offer you a
generous deal.  If you insist on wearing that silly vest, then I will hold
you to the original four week service term.  But if you wear the ensemble
as designed, without the vest, I will consider your service complete after
today.  You get your weekends back and I get my anti-shoplifting
advertisement.  The choice is yours."
   He saw her pretending to weigh the offer, but Pierre knew which one she
would ultimately choose.  "I must go see to something and will return
shortly with your assignment.  I expect you to have made up your mind by
then.  Whatever you decide, be ready upon my return." He closed the door
behind him and hurried off to make the final preparations for her
assignment.
   **Who knows?  If she's that desperate to get her sentence reduced she
might go through with it.  If not, I'll find another way to use her body.
Maybe shorten her skirt every week.  She'll never know the difference. 
It's too bad she didn't go for the ink idea.  Still, even with the vest on,
she's sure to raise more than a few eyebrows in the department I picked out
for her.
   Pierre smiled as he walked.  He gave one final thought of a topless
Rachel working the men's dressing rooms.  What a boon to business it could
have been!  But realistically that wasn't going to happen, right?...TO BE
CONTINUED
   Thornwood Episode III - In Training Part 48
   The Ogaline County prison project was in tatters.  One of Bystander's
integral tactics involved placing in positions of authority people inclined
to push the envelope on female nudity.  But people with the right
psychological profile were often unpredictable.  It only takes one step
over the line to put an entire project at risk.
   The Ogaline County Department of Corrections warden was one such
individual.  Brought in to reform the system, he had successfully converted
the entire women's incarceration facility to new `ecologically friendly'
uniforms.  The new smaller uniforms not only reduced laundry costs, but
eliminated the need for air conditioning in the summer.
   Because his changes saved the county a good amount of money, the project
continued despite protests from the inmates.  But turning off the air
conditioners created another problem.  The guards suffered in their
traditional stuffy uniforms.  So the warden designed new uniforms for them
as well.
   His `minimum yet secure' product line was issued to guards first with
plans to expand it as standard dress to all female employees.  Initial
trials brought another round of protests, this time from the staff.  But
blinded by the financial windfall, the board of directors once again
overruled any objections.
   Unfortunately the warden made a terrible mistake in phase two.  He
selected a particularly attractive assistant nurse from the medical ward
for the uniform trial.  Then he used his position as warden to make her
sign consent.
   The next day she wore it as agreed despite some obvious reservations. 
Enticed by the young nurse and drunk with authority, he coerced her into
sticking around after hours.  Once they were alone he made an improper
sexual advance.  When she resisted he fired her in anger.  Confiscating her
uniform immediately he forced her to walk naked back through the prison to
her street clothes.
   A security tape of the incident inevitably surfaced.  Bystander's team
had to scramble to contain the fallout, but the program was beyond saving.
He learned from the experience to take extra precautions to prevent
something like that from happening again.  That's why Coach Ron received a
phone call from his benefactor on Sunday afternoon.
   "I congratulate you on the exhibition yesterday.  My colleague tells me
your team put on quite a show.  I'm sorry I missed it." Bystander said.
   That answered one question.  Having never seen the man in person, Coach
Ron had wondered if he were among the boosters in attendance.  The hefty
bonus check on his desk added to the intrigue.
   "Thank you."
   "Let's discuss the training data you sent me and the swimmer who
generated such impressive numbers.  What is your opinion?"
   "Rachel?  I don't know where to begin.  She has all the tools of
greatness.  Drive, willpower, natural talent, and a body..." he trailed off
for a moment, "in my coaching experience, I've never come across a more
complete package."
   "Yes, she seems a rare specimen indeed.  If she really is as good in the
water as these numbers indicate, we could be looking at swimming's next
rising star."
   "The numbers were from a stroke training machine.  She's even faster in
the water." Coach Ron said with confidence and a bit of personal pride.
   "My associate is of the same opinion.  He came away rather impressed by
her demonstration." Satisfied, Bystander quickly shifted gears, "There is
another matter I would like to discuss, in confidence."
   Ron paused at the sudden change in tone and subject, "...ok".
   "I hear you have relocated your office into the women's locker room."
   **Uh oh!  I KNEW that would get me in trouble sooner or later.
   "I...yes, I uh...can explain"
   "Relax, Mr.  Lutheford.  I applaud your ingenuity.  To puncture such a
strong social barrier with one's reputation in tact deserves commendation."
   "Yes, well...what?"
   "I hire visionaries, not followers.  Too long have social customs stood
in the way of progress.  To overcome traditional boundaries takes
revolutionary leaps.  Rachel's progress is no coincidence.  No doubt your
presence in the locker room aided her swift adjustment to the new uniform.
See what is possible when the weight of modesty is removed?"
   Coach Ron did not respond.  He sat in silence; too stunned that the
expected reprimand had somehow turned into praise.
   Bystander continued explaining his plan, "You will eventually convert
the entire Thornwood's ladies swim team to that uniform, but the time is
not yet ripe.  Having already been issued official uniforms, they would be
resistant right now.
   Rather, this is your new assignment.  I want you to expand your creative
methods beyond the locker room and to include more team members.  Create
situations where the young ladies must learn to function with less
clothing. Remove the weight of modesty and foster a receptive environment.
Only then can we consider introducing new uniforms.  Seeing Rachel's
success in competition will help.  But your role is equally important.  You
follow?"
   "Yes, sir" Coach Ron found his voice and practically saluted.  The man
spoke with such conviction and confidence, Ron wouldn't dream of defying
his orders.  But the implications had not even begun to sink in.
   "Good.  Your position will afford you ample opportunities so I implore
you to choose your moments wisely.  Trivial changes are a waste of time. 
If you think small they will not follow you for long even if you are their
head coach.  Only great bold leaps will produce lasting change.  Don't be
timid."
   "Of course," a big smile appeared on the coach's face as he imagined the
myriad of ways he could strip his team.
   But Bystander brought him back to earth with a grave warning, "One last
thing.  I am not blind to the challenges and personal risks associated with
this task.  You must strike a delicate balance and at times may feel
tempted to stray beyond your professional role.
   Don't be stupid.  Specifically, if you choose to get sexually involved
with one of your students or even venture to touch a student in an improper
manner, I cannot help you.  So expel those fantasies from your mind.  I
have cleared the way for you thus far, but my influence has limits. 
Society has limits.  In the blink of an eye your title will change from
coach to sexual predator with predictable results.  You will most likely be
arrested and fired, and will certainly never hear from me again.
   You would have no trouble were the gender roles reversed.  Unfair, I
know, but a fact of life.  Your margin for error diminishes because you are
a man supervising a group of young women.  Regardless, I trust your
judgment.  And I do not turn my back on my investments lightly.  However I
cannot afford to lose all I have worked for over some foolish indiscretion.
In that respect, you are expendable.  Understood?"
   "Yes, sir." Ron gulped with solemnity.  The warning achieved its desired
effect.
   "Very well.  Consider the bonus check hazard pay and a reward for your
efforts thus far.  Rest assured, I will continue to support the program
financially with whatever else you may need.  Please keep me updated on
your progress.  Good bye."
   Coach Ron struggled to assimilate Bystander's words even after he hung
up.  Before long, the team arrived for the walkthrough.  He decided not to
change anything just yet.  Taking Bystander's words to heart, he vowed to
wait for the right moment.  He wasn't completely sure what he had agreed to
in the conversation.  But he had a pretty good idea on the basics. 
Carrying out this new assignment would be a hell of a lot of fun.  And the
Thornwood High School girl's swim team would never be the same...TO BE
CONTINUED
   Thornwood Episode III - In Training Part 49
   Specializing in business attire, the official name of the department
Pierre selected was `executive menswear'.  Casual and teen wear were
intentionally relegated to another part of the store.  It catered to a
higher class of shopper.  Though a far cry from a big city men's tailor
shop and hardly the busiest section of the store, it did produce one of the
highest profit margins.
   Today Pierre wanted it to be understaffed on purpose to make Rachel work
extra hard.  As anticipated, the department supervisor ranted about lost
commissions when he heard the request.
   "Trust me," Pierre reassured him, "I guarantee this will be the year's
most profitable Sunday.  If not, I will personally make up the difference.
And you get everything my volunteer takes in."
   That shut up the supervisor.  He agreed to reassign his employees
elsewhere for the day.
   Being the sole worker in the area should keep Rachel on her toes all
afternoon.  Most importantly, her responsibilities extended to the nearby
men's dressing room and an undesirable job the employees nicknamed "suit
slave".  Demanding customers often sent employees off to retrieve various
articles for them to try on.  On busy days the 6 stall dressing room
cluttered quickly.  Fortunately for Rachel, Sunday's were usually not as
bad.
   While Pierre got the area ready for his newest employee, Rachel paced
the storage room in palpable turmoil over her decision.  Caught in his
tactfully laid trap, she knew what she should do.
   **He's tricking me.  Ok, he's not making me do it.  He gave me a choice.
But it's not a fair trade!  Why play his game?  I won't bother with the
ink.
   She made up her mind yet continued to pace restlessly around the room.
She couldn't shake the thought that she was missing something.  Just then a
stray rubber band caught her eye behind the storage.  On a whim she decided
to put her hair up in a pony tail.  But her arm caught on something when
she reached out to grab it.
   "Ouch!"
   Pulling back, a piece of packing tape clung to her arm like a band-aid.
It had come from the cardboard box.  She yanked the tape off her and winced
at the sudden sting.  The industrial tape had been stickier than she
anticipated.  As she rubbed the little red spot on her arm, a parallel to
her dilemma with Pierre formed in her mind.
   **That's it!  Either I take the punishment gradually and let him drag
out the process.  Or I get it over with but in a greater dose.
   That realization changed everything.  As a girl Rachel had always been
the type who rips off her band-aids.  Why prolong the suffering when there
is a faster solution?  But here she was choosing the long route.  That's
why her subconscious was bothering her.  And just like that, a spiral of
justifications began to unravel her steadfast decision.
   **How bad could it be?  Models often wear body paint.  It is becoming
more common.  How would it be any worse than at Eric's house, or what I
wore to the carwash?
   She shuddered at the memory of riding on Ellie's bicycle handlebars with
her bare breasts exposed to the whole town.  She had survived that even
without the coverage of ink.  Also, she kept coming back to how many other
team activities she would miss.
   **It's already cost me one swim meet.  Surely I can handle one
afternoon...
   Rationalizations infiltrated her thoughts and compromised common sense.
Before long Rachel was standing over the bucket shedding her clothes.  She
placed her vest back on the small shelf and picked up the spray wand. 
Pointing it at her stomach, she took one last deep breath.
   **Just rip it off and get it over with.
   Suppressing remaining pockets of apprehension, she squeezed the trigger
to maximum.  Cold ink blasted from the tip eliciting a gasp.  But the girl
did not stop until her torso was completely coated.  Unlike last time,
spraying wholesale like this did not allow for accuracy.  She had to
abandon her original design opt for volume instead.
   **I've got a whole bucket of the stuff.  No point conserving it.
   Up and down she went; paying special attention to her breasts until they
were dripping with wet ink.  When she was done, her entire front side was
soaked from neck to waist.
   Dropping the gun, she stood frozen in disbelief of what she had just
done.  Pierre would be there any second to escort her to her assignment. 
As she stepped into her work skirt, her mind fought to save her.  It told
her she was crazy to think she could walk around out there with her young
globes veiled only in a thin coat of ink.
   Knock, knock, "It's Pierre?"
   Rachel jumped at the sound.  She felt an overwhelming urge to put her
vest back on, but it was too late.  Due to her haphazard application job
the ink was still quite wet in places.  Blue ink would certainly stain the
red leather vest and Susan would kill her if she brought back yet another
ruined outfit.  She had literally painted herself into a corner.  Only one
thing left to do.  Face the embarrassment head on and endure it.
   **You can do this, for the sake of swimming.  Represent yourself with
pride.
   And with that, she opened the door...TO BE CONTINUED
   Thornwood Episode III - In Training Part 50
   Rachel stood back to let him enter and perform another inspection. 
Holding her head high with her arms to her sides, she focused on a spot
above the door.  Pierre's eyes went wide when he saw the teenager topless
for the first time.  But he recovered quickly.
   For several seconds he said nothing.  He soaked in the view in silent
fascination as the stunning young beauty struggled to maintain composure
under his gaze.  She would attempt to swell with pride only to falter a few
seconds later under the weight of exposure.  It was cute in a way watching
her fight the instinct to hide her nakedness.
   To her credit she never gave in nor moved to cover up.  She endured his
inspection though refusing to make eye contact.  She kept on a brave face
but he detected a slight tremor on her lip.
   Her pride wasn't the only thing swelling.  Although the ink camouflaged
her skin, it did nothing to conceal the topography of her luscious blue
orbs.  At once Pierre's intense scrutiny roused Rachel's glorious body to
action.  Small points appeared on her chest like magic.  They continued to
inflate before his eyes into perfectly formed nipples.  The scene caused
him to swell too.
   Pierre shuffled around behind her out of sight before his jaw dropped.
He couldn't take his eyes off her.  The lack of blue ink made her back side
quite a contrast.  Different yet equally impressive.  Nothing back here to
interfere with her porcelain skin save a large sign over her bottom.  What
a perfect way to advertise.
   Wiping the drool off his chin, Pierre completed the circle.  He looked
her up and down one last time then spoke.
   "It'll do.  But don't think this means you can slack off today.  Come,
I'll finish your instructions when we get to your assignment" and just like
that he spun around and headed for the hall expecting Rachel to follow.
   "Wait.  I'm not ready to go out there yet," she wanted to say.  It was
all happening too fast to come to terms.  Rachel hesitated in the room
listening to Pierre walk down the hall.  "Keep up, dear.  I don't suffer
sluggards."
   "Coming," but as she stepped for the exit, she felt another twinge of
hesitation.  Like her mind was trying to warn her.  But about what?  She
certainly felt underdressed.  But as much as she hated her predicament, she
had tacitly signed on to the deal as soon as she open the door.
   **Am I forgetting something?  Of course I am; my top!  But I have to let
that go.
   She pushed the thought from her mind but took one last despondent look
at her vest on the way out the door.  She had in fact forgotten something
else, but that didn't register until much later.
   Pierre stood impatiently at the end of the hall.  When Rachel appeared,
he turned and continued his trek leaving her alone again.  The sensation of
exposure urged her to slow down.  To turn around.  Anything but go
careening down the hallway topless.  But Pierre's fast pace did not allow
her to be cautious.  She gave up sneaking after the first few open doors.
   On full alert, she made it through Pierre's office and into an empty
foyer.  The last safe area before entering the store proper.  How many
shoppers were waiting on the other side of that door?  How could she face
them dressed like this?  She crossed her arms just under her chest, more a
nervous reflex than actual cover, and regretted it immediately.  She opened
her arms to find them and her palms sticky with wet ink.
   **ugh.  Have to be more careful until it's completely dry.
   Denied even a token gesture of modesty.  Rachel wanted to pause and
recompose herself, but Pierre's merciless onward march forced her to keep
moving.  She had no choice but to stick with him.
   **I'm really starting to dislike this guy.
   To compound the issue, rushing around caused her skirt to slip
unnervingly low on her waist.  Vowing to find a more permanent solution
later, she yanked it back up.  Then she stepped through the last door which
ominously clicked shut behind her.  The temptation to turn back had been
building.  That click sealed her fate.
   Standing in another short hallway which ran alongside the foyer, Rachel
looked around to get her bearings.  In one direction a sign read
`Employee's only beyond this point'.  Turning the other direction she
glimpsed Pierre disappearing around the corner and rushed to catch up...TO
BE CONTINUED
  
thornwood-ep3-part-46-50