Dress Off 06: Butt Naked in Brisbane

Wendy's panties were now down by her knees, and she swayed from side to side, dancing away to an unheard beat. The blouse was now pulled over head so she at least couldn't see everyone gawking at her, but her blushing red cheeks could faintly be seen radiating through the thin material of her blouse.

Her work colleagues watched on as one hand began to industriously attack her bra, and one surprisingly large breast soon popped free of its constraints. Accidents weren't exactly rare in Olivia's lab, especially given some of the tech they experimented on. Still, the sight of Wendy twerking, dancing and stripping would have grabbed the attention of even the most seasoned of Olivia's staff.

Mitchelson coughed as he got close to the woman, not entirely clear on how to go about stopping the woman without getting a little too hands-on. And he had to admit, Wendy's breasts were much more impressive than her outfit had suggested, and weren't exactly helping him keep on mission.

"Yes... yes, you see... remember what I was saying," Olivia was telling Stacey, waving a finger in the air as if the most pressing problem right now was solving the mystery of _why_ Wendy was doing this, "I was saying that with these I could make someone strip naked and dance."

"Shouldn't we be... you know... helping?" Stacey asked. Olivia continued talking as if the interruption hadn't yet reached her private universe.

"Wendy here was under their spell so to speak, and well, here we have the results. I must say, a very succ..." Olivia looked at Wendy with a sense of pride, before the true nature of Wendy's predicament finally intruded into her reality.

"Of course, of course, how silly of me!" Olivia shook her head and blinked a few times.

Wendy's other breast broke free of bra as the woman thrust her body around near Mitchelson, who was trying to stop her hands from attacking her own clothing, without being seen to be actively groping her. He was not being overly successful.

"I order you to stop immediately!" Olivia said, authoritatively.

With a groan and a sigh, Wendy's hands finally stopped ripping at her clothing, and her stiff body sagged in relief. Then the blouse that had been semi-pulled over her head drop a few inches, and her eyes peeked over the top. Standing right in front of her was Mitchelson, who at least had the good taste to try and suppress his smile, even if that wasn't entirely successful at that either.

The world froze for Wendy for a moment as she stood stock still, her large firm breasts pointing directly at the man, her bare skin and crotch feeling even the minutest movement of air from his breathing.

Then, as she replayed what she'd just done in her own mind, Wendy let out a little shriek and almost twisted in two trying to cover herself up.

Mitchelson smiled at Olivia and then took a few steps back, to give the woman a little more space.

"Well, consider us convinced!" Mitchelson said, trying to lighten the mood somewhat.

Olivia blushed slightly, and then gently took Wendy's arm before steering her towards a couple of nearby attendants. "Yes, umm... good... good work Wendy, well done. Exactly what was needed in the situation." Olivia tried patting Wendy on the shoulder and then awkwardly tried to give her a fist bump that the other woman had no idea what to do with. "Yes... well, anyway, I'm sure Wendy here deserves the afternoon off all things considering... See you tomorrow then." Olivia paused for a moment, before feeling it necessary to add "Dressed, that is."

Wendy wandered off, her arms and hands clamped to her breasts and crotch, covering her most private of parts up in a way that suggested someone might need a crowbar to get to her move them.

"And maybe work on something other than the hot pants tomorrow!" Olivia called out after her, trying to be helpful. Wendy's whimper was audible even from halfway across the room at the mention of that particular item of clothing.

Still somewhat flustered by the turn of events, O shooed away various assistants who descended upon their boss to ask if she needed any more help.

"No, No, I'm fine.' She turned back to Stacey and Mitchelson, looking for something to move the conversation towards. She found it nearly instantaneously, and pounced on a spray can with great delight. Her demeanour changed in a heartbeat, as she now focussed on one of her prized toys again.

"Now this is something I think you'll all be interested in! Katie... Katie bring the target practice dummy over please!"

She held up the spray can for the two agents to inspect.

"Stripper Mist!" Olivia said, beaming with pride.

Mitchelson raised an eyebrow. That sounded promising.

Stacey went to take the canister off Olivia, but the brunette scientist waved her away. "Simple principle really — the canister contains a compressed gas that when dispersed will attack the molecules found in fibres such as cotton, polyester, well, nearly all the major fibres used in clothing seams today!"

Olivia waved the canister about enthusiastically, while expounding on the scientific genius of her latest invention. "While not powerful enough to completely dissolve material — and by extension not powerful enough to cause any damage to someone's skin — it _is_ strong enough to damage seams to the point where they spontaneously fail, causing a victim's clothing to simply fall apart around them!"

Stacey weaved and dodged as the canister was waved in her general direction. "That's great O, just great. I remember we've had dissolving seams in our Dress Off gear for a while now though."

Olivia shrugged. "Of course, but those had to be specially prepared seams — now you have the ability to dissolve anybody's clothing with just a simple spray!"

Another assistant had now pulled over a dressed mannequin to near where Olivia was standing. "Ah, thank you Katie. Now, if you could all just stand back please. " She peered at the canister and then looked carefully at her target. "Now, this is the spray can version, but we also have Stripper Mist grenades, and we're working on a rocket-propelled version as well for those special occasions when mass nudity is the order of the day! Now, if I just point it this way..."

Olivia spread her legs slightly and braced her shoulder as if she was firing a rifle. The mannequin was dressed in a blouse and trousers, and through the thin material of the blouse Stacey thought she could see the faint trace of red underwear.

"One quick press of the trigger like so," Olivia said with exaggerated care, pressing the button on the spray can firmly, "the mannequin will soon be bereft of all it's clothing!"

Olivia gave a triumphant "aha!" which proved to be slightly pre-mature. Nothing happened, and the mannequin remained defiantly clothed.

"Hmm..." Olivia pressed the button again. Still nothing. "Okay, maybe the grenade would be a better demo..." 

Olivia tossed the spray can to one side, causing Stacey and Mitchelson to flinch, half-expecting it to go off. The spray can just bounced harmlessly to the ground though, while Olivia rummaged through a box marked "fragile" and grabbed a small silver sphere. Then, pressing flipping up a small metal flap on the sphere, she pressed a button and then rolled it gently along the ground towards the mannequin.

"Now, stand back!" She said, somewhat belatedly. People scurried away, and Mitchelson nonchalantly took a few steps to the side and positioned himself directly behind Stacey.

"Wait for it..." Olivia said, an eager anticipation on her face. The seconds ticked by. The eager anticipation flickered a little, and then transitioned to slightly irritated impatience, followed by disappointment and dejection.

Wrinkling her nose and huffing somewhat, Olivia stalked over to where the grenade sat innocently on the ground and picked it up, turning it over and over in her hand as if she could detect the cause of the fault just by glaring at it.

"Katie, we set these to six-second fuses right?"

"Yes, O, we... uhh... six? I thought it was fifteen-second fuses?"

Olivia looked up at Katie, and then her eyes shot wide open. A split-second later, there was a gently popping sound from the smooth silver ball in her hand. There was no explosion, no loud bang, just the sudden appearance of a fine grey mist that quickly enveloped Olivia even as she dropped the offending object and tried to frantically wave the mist away.

"Oh my!" Olivia said, as the mist cleared almost as quickly as it at formed. She looked up at Stacey and Mitchelson with a shocked expression on her face.

Then, without any further fanfare, her clothes began to slowly peel away, falling to bits and pieces around the woman as her cheeks went bright red, and her hands flew up to try and hold the now useless garments together.

Her breathing intensified and she started to almost hyperventilate as she felt segments of her clothing begin to slip through her grasp.

"Oh my... oh my oh my!" Olivia said, looking in all directions as she tried to maintain some semblance of dignity while avoiding eye contact with anyone.

Her trousers were disintegrating and with one hand trying to cover her breasts, Olivia could only try and cover her crotch or her ass at any one point in time. Caught with two terrible choices, she froze and then looked in Mitchelson's direction. The man was standing still, an impressed look plastered over his face. He'd never seen Olivia naked, but much like Wendy, the lab clothing seemed to have done a spectacular job of completely obscuring a rather sensational body. It had up to this point anyway.

Small a-cup breasts may not have been to everyone's tastes, but when they were as perfectly formed as Olivia's, Mitchelson liked to think of himself as an open-minded man. No-one could ever accuse him of being cup'ist. With the mound of clothing fragments building up around her, Olivia now resorted to trying to cover her small breasts with one hand, while bringing a knee up and twisting it across her body to cover her crotch, while planting one hand across her backside to cover her ass.

Then, as had so often in her early days of training as a field agent, the nervous giggling started. Red-faced, and giggling uncontrollably, Olivia stood in the middle of her lab, bereft of any cover and displaying her wares — embarrassingly small in her mind — for the man she had a not-so-secret crush on.

Mitchelson smiled and winked at Olivia. "Another rousing success O. We'll take a dozen," he said, "throw in a spray can or two for good luck as well, thanks."

************

The cafe was mostly empty as the regally dressed business woman drew back a chair and primly sat down at the table by a large window that oversaw a quiet side-street in Brisbane's CBD. She'd already extracted her phone from her bag, and was typing in her pin as she draped her bag to one side, and instantly lost herself in the phone's screen. Oblivious to her surroundings, the woman didn't even notice that she was occasionally be checked out by two individuals sitting in a car parked up across the street.

Stacey and Mitchelson sat drinking their take away coffees, Mitchelson also helping himself to a triple chocolate muffin as Stacey discretely looked at their target one more time. The car's air conditioning was blasting away, as they tried to keep cool in the blazing heat of a Brisbane summer. They'd been in Australia for only a day or so now, and Stacey had to stifle a yawn as she fought the effects of jet-lag.

"Well, have you figured out your approach yet?" Stacey murmured, making sure to not look directly at the woman. All it would take is for her to look out the cafe window at the wrong time, get suspicious and their plans would be in ruins.

Mitchelson looked at her blankly and then just shrugged. "I'll wander over and just let the magic happen," he said, with a wink.

Stacey gave him a long stare. "Remember what's at stake," she said.

Mitchelson grinned. "Relax, this isn't my first rodeo." He opened the passenger side door, and hopped out on to the street. Standing up and smoothing out his shirt, he gave a big thumbs-up to Stacey. He was — at surface-level — a fit healthy specimen of a man who knew how to look after himself. Even Stacey had to grudgingly concede that.

And there had always been those rumours...

Mitchelson had been with the agency before Stacey had been recruited. In fact, he'd been a technician working alongside Tess Trueheart herself during Stacey's little exhibition match, so she knew he'd had a ringside seat to witness her first bout of naked humiliation.

Ever since she'd met him — during her basic training where he'd run her through some of the agency's top-of-the-line surveillance equipment — he'd manage to embed pretty much every conversation he'd had with her with some kind of innuendo. And, at least outwardly, he seemed to project this air of casualness and laziness that really didn't befit a professional in their field of work.

And yet, for all her firmness back at the briefing, Stacey sensed that the Director secretly trusted Mitchelson quite a bit more than she let on. Stacey often wondered what the history was behind that.

There had been a few rumours circulating the corridors of HQ that Mitchelson was a defector from Harrington's own organisation. That he had risked a fair bit to extract some fairly important asset from the enemy before joining the Agency, enough that the Council itself had approved the Director's request for him to be sent on some fairly high-level missions with some of the Agency's most important agents.

She mused over this as she discreetly watched him go about his task.

He had initially proposed deploying some of O's special Stripper Mist to put the woman in an embarrassing situation, to which he would ride to her aid on his metaphorical steed as her white knight. Stacey had to put the kibosh on that idea, since it hardly fitted into the mission parameters of "discretely acquiring access to the building in a way that won't raise suspicion."

Stacey hadn't felt it should be necessary to point out to Mitchelson that a woman might find her clothes disintegrating on her in public more than a little suspicious, no matter how charming the man was who came to her rescue. She hadn't felt it should be necessary to say that, but she had said it anyway. His immediate offer to use the Stripper Mist on her to see how natural it seemed had been similarly rebuffed.

Rather than some elaborate scene to manufacture a meet-cute, he had decided to go old school and just brazenly walk up and introduce himself.

Much to Stacey's mild surprise, the woman seemed to go for it. Whether the sheer audacity of openly introducing himself had put her off guard and made her think he had no ulterior motives, she couldn't say for certain. But as she carefully watched on, she had to admit the woman's body language suggested that Mitchelson was better at this than she'd fully given him credit for.

And he better be, she thought to herself. They only had a few days before Tess Trueheart and Bree Carson would be entering the game, and they were counting on Stacey and her team to be the contingency plan should there be any unforeseen complications. He needed to discretely acquire all the information they needed from her to get them both into the large building that seemed to act as their target's company headquarters.

Right now, "Stacey and her team" was pretty much just Stacey and Mitchelson. Erin was still days away most likely, and their rendezvous in Brisbane with Jessica Beacham and Penelope Proudchest had so far failed to eventuate. Jessica was one of the agency's most senior agents, not far behind Tess Trueheart herself. Their conspicuous absence had made Stacey more than a little suspicious, but countering that was the fact that HQ had sent out orders for agents to go to ground for a while as the situation around their sudden move sorted itself out.

Of course, it was possible that Jessica had felt it necessary to head for cover due to some local mission. Even the Director had implied that it was far from certain that Jessica would be able to help. Maybe she'd felt that making the rendezvous would bring some local heat down on Stacey and Mitchelson. Still, right now given what was potentially at stake, Stacey would have liked as much help as possible.

She sat back in the car and drank some more of her coffee. Mitchelson was now in full swing, apparently regaling their target with some story that actually made her genuinely laugh. Through the cafe window, she saw him smile, almost sweetly in fact. He never made eye contact with Stacey, never gave the other woman any suspicion that she was being watched or that he was signalling someone else behind her. But from a few subtle cues in his body language, he used a few innocent looking gestures to send a message to his partner. In the special body language that the agents had devised to communicate silently, he managed to construct a simple yet powerful sentence.

"Operation 'Tap It and Thank It' moving to phase two..."

Stacey rolled her eyes in what was a universal gesture in anyone's language.

************

The building lobby was largely deserted as the blonde-haired woman strode in, dressed in an exquisitely crafted business suit and towing behind her a slightly worried looking man. The woman was a picture of calm authority, and barely acknowledged the presence of the two security guards posted behind the reception desk. The guards — a man and a woman — roused each other from the boredom of the early evening security shift. Extracting themselves from their chairs, the male guard made an attempt to intercept the new arrivals, while the female guard held back and positioned herself near a security monitor, her hand lingering near what seemed to be a taser strapped to her belt.

In contrast to the woman, the man sported a t-shirt, jeans and ill-fitting suit jacket combination that seemed to perfectly complement the concerned expression on his face, and it was a weak and worried smile that flickered across his face as he briefly made eye contact with the guards.

"Ma'am. Working late tonight?" the male guard asked, an expectant tone to his voice.

If the woman thought that the guard's line of questioning had merit, nothing about her body language betrayed that. She didn't even bother to break stride as she waved an access card at a security reader near the reception desk and positioned herself by the lifts, waiting for one to open.

The second guard quickly checked a monitor, and apparently satisfied herself that the access card credentials were correct, and nodded to her partner. The first guard seemed to relax slightly in response, before clearing his throat.

"Ahh, ma'am? Does your colleague happen to have appropriate identification?"

The woman turned on her heels and looked at the guard for the first time, before treating him to a thin smile. "My 'colleague' here works for me. Or at least he does for the time being. If he fails to fix the fault in the server room in the next hour or two, his employment status will most certainly change." The woman then proceeded to hold her access card up in front of the guard. "This here says that I'm the vice-president of network security. As does your little system over there. Right now, this company faces a critical network flaw that is many pay-grades above your ability to comprehend. So you'll excuse me if I'm not going to let the fact that this idiot forgot to bring his access card with him stop us from fixing that flaw." The woman smiled again, without any warmth. "Problem?"

The guards exchanged a quick glance, and the second guard shrugged. The woman's access card checked out with the security system, and who was she to argue with a vice-president.