Heather turned towards Megan, her short-haired African American friend from College. Apart from Heather herself, who was completely naked, Megan seemed to be the only other person in the office who was clothing afflicted. Unlike everybody else, Megan was not wearing professional attire but wore only a pair of purple thong panties. At her side she held a plain manilla folder.
Megan looked down at Heather's bare pussy, and her eyes widened.
"So, uh, nice to see I'm not the only one-" Heather began.
"Oh my god!" Megan hissed. She looked around nervously before pulling Heather into her cubicle. "Girl, where the hell are your panties?"
"It's kind of a long story."
"Well you'll be telling it from here to the unemployment center if you don't cover your damned nudity!"
Heather felt a jolt of horror in her gut. "Wait... you mean this isn't... normal?"
"Running around butt naked? No way!"
"But what about you? You're naked too!"
Megan looked down at herself nervously, down at her bare breasts and stomach. "What are you talking about? I'm dressed."
"I can see your tits!"
"My breasts? That's not nudity. Everyone has nipples. Men don't have what you're flaunting, though." Megan said, indicating Heather's crotch.
It suddenly dawned on Heather that when Ashley had spoken to her just a few minutes ago, she had been sitting at her desk. Which meant that her lower half had been hidden. This was, apparently, an alternate world where it was only considered nudity from the waist down.
"Wait... if we're dressed like this, then how come Ashley was wearing business professional?" Heather asked.
"We don't earn company suits until we've reached a hundred thousand in sales, duh! And we won't earn anything but a butt whooping if anyone sees you here like this." Megan pressed the manilla folder she was carrying against Heather's bare crotch. Heather took hold of it and pressed it there herself. "Look, head back to your cubicle and put on your damn panties. If anyone sees you from behind... I don't know, tell them you're trying out pasties or something. I don't know what the hell you're thinking!"
Megan pushed a nervous Heather out of the safety of her cubicle, and back into the middle of the office wearing nothing but a manilla folder. Trying to avoid eye contact with anyone, Heather walked as quickly as she could back to her desk, her breasts bouncing wildly with every step. She managed to reach it without incident, then sat down in her chair.
Hidden from the waist down by the desk, Heather began to search her desk drawers and her handbag for something to wear.
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