The gentle tapping of fingers on the keyboard sounded rhythmical against the flickering laptop screen, the woman at the swivel chair absorbed into her work as the otherwise pitch-dark room gave no other indication of life or movement.
The curtains to the left of the laptop were pulled tightly shut, and the woman occasionally shivered, before finally succumbing to the cold late-night air seeping through the window’s old wooden frames and pulling her hoodie up and over her head. The reflected light of the laptop briefly revealed a shot of auburn hair sticking out the front as the woman moved closer to the device for a moment, and her hand seemed to pause over the touchpad before an audible sigh escaped from her lips and a quick tap was followed by her leaning back in her chair and looking up silently into the dark ceiling.
On the screen, a progress bar silently blinked away, indicating that an image was being uploaded. It only took a few seconds for the action to be completed, and a jaunty dialog box popped up. The woman ignored it for a couple of minutes, spun her chair around a few times, and then looked back at the laptop. Hesitating again, her hand seemed to waver over the touchpad and betrayed the conflict of emotion going on in the woman’s head. Finally, a finger jerkily hit the bottom of the touchpad and the dialog box disappeared. Immediately, the woman slammed the laptop lid down, looked down briefly at her lap, and then pushed away roughly from the desk.
Standing up, she rubbed her hands slowly and then pivoted on her feet, seemingly lost in thought. Eyeing up the bed in the corner, the woman didn’t even bother to get changed or undressed. Walking over, she flung herself on the bed and covered her face with the pillow. A low sigh escaped from her lips once but otherwise, she fell silent, and as late night seamlessly transitioned into early morning outside, the auburn-haired woman finally fell into a muddled sleep, her mind jumbled with emotions about what had just happened. As she slowly sunk into a deeper yet troubled sleep, even the first morning rays of the sun several hours later couldn’t stir her from the dreams of what her actions might now lead to.
****
“That bitch!” seethed Bryony, as she gestured angrily at her computer screen, a rising fury marring the otherwise flawless beauty of the blonde-haired twenty-year-old.
Her audience of one was a much older woman, quite regal and sophisticated looking, whose only admission to having noticed Bryony’s outburst was a slightly raised eyebrow. Sitting across the table, she slowly drank the coffee that had just been delivered by the fine young specimen of manhood who worked as a server at the cafe they were currently frequenting. The server had also merited an eyebrow raise and had even graduated to the level of deserving an appreciative glance as he’d walked away, even though the woman was probably twenty-five years the senior of the man in question.
Bryony turned to her older woman, expecting some kind of supportive murmur, only to realise that Bryony’s concern was probably still only occupying a minority of her friend’s attention, with the majority still firmly applied to an analysis of the finer aspects of the server’s backside. Finally, the other woman pursed her lips, seemed to package some thought away for later review, and turned to give Bryony something approximating her full attention. She gave Bryony a small smile and indicated for Bryony to now show her the screen.
Bryony turned the screen around and gestured again accusingly at the silver Apple laptop. On the screen was a photo of the blonde-haired Bryony in a bikini. It was not, the older woman had to admit, a particularly flattering angle for the otherwise gorgeous Bryony.
“Well,” the woman tried to say with an air of polite diplomacy, “on the bright side you’ve clearly lost weight since that photo was taken.”
Bryony gave her a flat stare and then cast her eyes up to the heavens. “Angelica,” said Bryony between gritted teeth, “I have never ever been that fat!”
Angelica Highsmith – successful businesswoman and recently assigned as mentor to bright young business student Bryony Richmond – just shrugged. “Well, the camera adds…” she started, but was interrupted as Bryony slammed the lid down on the laptop, almost to punish it for daring to show the offending image in her presence.
“It wasn’t the camera that added thirty pounds to that photo… my photo!” Bryony said, her tone pleading now as if trying to convince a judge that not only had she been mortifyingly wronged, but that the guilty party deserved every ounce of justice that could be flung at them, “it was that evil bitch Maria who did it!”
“Hmm…” was Angelica’s sole addition to the conversation as Bryony began to launch into a rant.
“That flat-chested no-friends nerd must have… must have…” Bryony cast around for the right words and then landed triumphantly on “Photoshopped! Yes, that’s right, Photoshopped an image she stole from me,” pointing at herself to accentuate the depth of the betrayal that the theft represented. “And then manipulated it to make me look fat.” Her eyes burned as her voice hit a higher octave.
Angelica – for whom discretion was a natural state of being when work didn’t require otherwise – waved a hand to indicate that perhaps Bryony should consider lowering her voice so that her audience was solely Angelica and not, say, the entire cafe and some stretch of the sidewalk outside. “And then she hacked into my Facebook account and Myspace account and posted it publicly!” Added Bryony, indignantly.
Her eyes flashed with anger as she recalled that moment that she’d received the email notifying her that a “hotornot.com” account had also been created for her, and she’d logged in only to find that awful photo blazing out across the furthest reaches of the internet and garnering a score of merely 7.1! A 7.1 for Bryony Richmond, who was clearly a 9.1 even at her most unflattering angle! That was like some average woman finding a photo of herself getting a score of 3 or less. It was an injustice of the vilest order.
Bryony slumped back into her chair and settled into a few moments of quiet seething, before throwing her hands in the air and exclaiming “And that’s after she posted that video to my now ex-boyfriend!”
Angelica coughed politely and tried to give Bryony a reassuring smile. “Look,” the woman said smoothly, in between sips of her coffee, “firstly the photo isn’t that bad.” Bryony snorted at that and shook her head, however, Angelica was undeterred and continued on. “Secondly, what video? Was it really that bad?”
For a moment, Bryony’s visible anger was pushed aside by a wave of red-faced embarrassment, and she lowered her head, avoiding eye contact with her older mentor. Umm’ing and ahh’ing, she made a few vague noises and then finally said – altogether more quietly than her previous outburst – “it was… well… not meant for public consumption by anyone. I mean, well… it was totally an evil move to share it and…” Bryony now coughed, and looked around the cafe wondering how many people were now secretly tuning in to their conversation, “and well, he dumped me for it.” She whispered.
Angelica reached over and gave Bryony a comforting pat on the hand. “It’s okay. It’ll be okay. Look…” she leaned back now and fixed her young blonde-haired companion with a steady gaze, “you are young, beautiful and bright. You’re weeks away from graduating at a well respected University with a business degree and high-flying connections,” she paused so that Bryony took the hint that Angelica was now referring to herself, “and you have the whole world opening up in front of you.”
Bryony started to protest about the indignity of Maria’s assault on her good image when Angelica held up a hand to quieten her. “You’re about to start a new chapter in your life, and you could walk away in a few weeks and forget all about Maria and your ex-boyfriend and the video and this photo.” Angelica waved a dismissive hand at the computer sitting between them.
The ridiculous thing was that even with twenty-plus pounds added, Bryony’s bikini-clad body still looked pretty attractive. Her perky breasts put exactly the right curves in what was in reality a fairly modest bikini by the standards of the day, and what the Photoshopping hadn’t done was in any way detract from the infectious smile that graced her beautiful face. Angelica wondered about that for a moment but then shrugged it off. It was strange indeed that others would likely see a fairly attractive woman still where Bryony herself could only see a hideous vision of gluttony and wretched exhibitionism.
Bryony started to open her mouth to say something, but Angelica continued on before she could interrupt. “Of course, that said, there is also an alternative path.” Angelica paused for effect and took another sip of her coffee, not breaking eye contact with Bryony and rewarded by the sight of the younger woman’s eyes narrowing as she began to wonder what Angelica was leading to.
“You see,” Angelica said, calmly and authoritatively, but with an undercurrent of friendly concern, “you will be starting a new chapter of course. However, we are the authors of our own lives and sometimes the next chapter can take a startling new direction from the previous chapter. Sometimes we don’t know where the story is leading to until many chapters later, and yet we let the story carry us on its narrative wave.”
The cafe was now mostly full, with the bustle of a mid-morning trade bringing new people in all of the time, but right now Bryony’s focus was solely on Angelica. What exactly was her mentor meaning by all of this? The two women had been paired by the University’s careers services unit as mentor and mentee about a month back, and Bryony had felt an instant connection to the older woman, who had freely delivered business advice and politely listened to Bryony’s occasional outbursts about how she’d been wronged, with something approaching saintly decorum. However, up to this point, all of Angelica’s advice had been straight out of the textbook and Bryony had begun to wonder whether she’d actually learn anything new from her mentor, or whether her apparently extensive connections would be the sum total of what Bryony could expect. Now, however, she seemed to be branching into a discussion they’d never had before.
“So,” Angelica, “obviously I’ve been helping you with preparing for that chapter of your life where you write for yourself a successful career as a high-flying businesswoman. A leader of industry.” She fixed Bryony with a steely stare. “However, I could also help you write another chapter first. A chapter where you settle your dispute with Maria, who has slighted you so.” Angelica had to pause as another snort erupted from Bryony as if the sheer force of understatement that the word “slighted” said about Maria’s multitude of unforgivable sins had physically expelled the air from Bryony’s lungs. She continued when she was satisfied that her young companion wasn’t going to try and interrupt further. “And whereby your dispute is settled in such a way that you never have to see each other again.” She paused by her own volition for a moment, giving the impression of choosing her next words with care, before ending on “There would be a risk of course, but business is a risk as you know. There would be a reward for whomever the dispute was settled in favour of, and for the unlucky person who fate ruled against, well, there would be a new opportunity and a new life too. Everyone would in fact win… eventually.”
Bryony didn’t say a word for a few moments, as the impact of Angelica’s words settled in and she tried to decipher meaning from some of the vagaries of what her mentor seemed to be suggesting.
“I… I don’t know… I mean… what are you suggesting, some kind of contest?”
Angelica shrugged slightly and then nodded. “A simplification perhaps, but not inaccurate.”
“And it would get Maria out of my life?”
Angelica narrowed her own eyes now and mentally tried a few sentences out before settling on “I can confidently say that I’ve never heard of the game failing to permanently separate the warring parties, and it always brings satisfaction to the winner.”
Bryony glanced back down at the laptop. She seemed uncertain and hesitant. A little lamely, she quietly whispered “Sounds risky. Besides, ” she added as she hunched over and placed her head in her hands, “Maria would never go for it.” She couldn’t take her eyes away from the laptop now.
Across the table Angelica leaned back, her face only slightly betraying a sense of self-satisfaction. “As your mentor, I would be willing to help out and intercede with Maria. I’m sure she can be… talked around.” Eyeing up Bryony, who was lost in her own private world, Angelica imperceptibly tapped a small button on her silver wristwatch and then settled back comfortably into her chair as she contemplated having a second coffee delivered to their table. Yes, it was turning out to be a good day and she rather thought she would treat herself to another coffee delivery after all.
****
Maria Higgins shuffled out of the hotel lobby into the bright sunshine of a warm summer’s day and looked down at the business card that had just been given to her. Beside her, Bryony Richmond shied away from making eye contact and simply stared directly ahead at the sea of passers-by. She also clutched a business card in her hand, and the thoughtful look on her face was bathed in sunlight as she sucked in a deep breath. Finally, Bryony broke the silence that had been an otherwise impenetrable barrier between them since they’d left the confines of the hotel room and taken an awkward elevator ride down to the lobby.
“So, if I see you again it’ll be at the end of this game.”
Maria nodded mutely in response, without looking.
Bryony nodded as well. “I’ll win, you know. You won’t be able to use your phone to figure out the clues, and we both know I’m better at this sort of thing.”
Maria’s nostrils flared slightly at the provocation, and she muttered under her breath “You’re better at over-reacting and being a drama queen about things.” Apparently, Bryony heard that as the shorter blonde woman just gave a short bitter laugh.
“Says the bitch who sends private videos to my boyfriend and posts compromising pictures of me online, all because…” Bryony started to say before Maria finally spun around and gave her a piercing stare. “Because of what?” Maria said, lips curled into a snarl and the auburn-haired woman pulling herself out of a near-perpetual defensive slouch and up to her full height, “Go on, say it.”
Despite an awkward sense of fashion, the baggy clothes and the long hair that ran over both shoulders down her chest evidently hid a buxom and athletic body and on the rare occasions when she chose to employ it, it was a body that could turn heads more than your typical computer nerd would be expected to be able to do.
Bryony started on a retort, but the words died on her lips, and the blonde simply shook her head sadly. “Get help, Maria. Wherever you end up after I’ve finished with you, get help.” Bryony turned and started to walk down the sidewalk to where she’d parked her car. Over her shoulder, and as a parting shot to her adversary, she called out, “Don’t expect mercy Maria, you’re going down for this.”
Maria clenched both her fists, and her jaw was tense as she stared after Bryony. The card crumpled in her hands, and as she tried to calm herself down, she mentally pictured Bryony naked, bound and embarrassed at the end of their game.
The past twenty minutes had been a confusing ride full of emotional gut-punches and unexpected revelations. Two weeks had passed since that fateful night that she’d posted the doctored photo online. While she hadn’t necessarily been proud of it, given what Bryony had done to her, Maria had felt more than vindicated in a small piece of fairly harmless retribution. Naturally, Bryony had overreacted and not a word had been spoken between the two former best friends for the entirety of that fortnight. Maria wouldn’t say she was particularly surprised by that, however, the sudden appearance in her life of a certain Angelica Highsmith had caught her somewhat off guard. The woman – probably in her late 40s if not older, although certainly attractive for her age – had listened sympathetically to Maria as the soon-to-be computer science graduate bared her soul on what a terrible final year of study this had been. Especially with Bryony – someone she’d previously counted as her closest friend – having so spectacularly turned against her when Bryony had hooked up with Grant Tremain, the University’s star quarterback. Maria apparently hadn’t been cool enough. Or enough of anything, it seemed
Grant Tremain was as clean-cut and well-endowed, both physically and financially, as they came. While he was the star quarterback, that hadn’t meant the man was a wild party animal. Quite the contrary. As a member of a very wealthy family with old money and strong connections with the local church, Grant had two qualities that weren’t seen in combination as often as most people would think: publicly-held deep religious convictions; and strict personal observance of those self-same deep religious convictions. So it had been an easy matter to break Bryony and Grant up by sharing an intimate video, neatly offending Grant’s delicate sensibilities. Again, Maria reflected, not her proudest moment, however, Maria had been hurt by the way that Bryony treated her, seemingly because of her relationship with Grant.
To say that Bryony had not taken that well would be like suggesting the sun was slightly on the hot side. Words had been said, very hurtful words, and now they were at the point of no return. Best of friends were now best of enemies.
So Angelica Highsmith, Maria’s latest and greatest acquaintance, had made the case for settling their dispute permanently. When a friendship had turned toxic and was unrecoverable, it was better to cut it loose and end it in such a manner that would provide complete closure, and reassure both parties that they’d never have to see each other again. The game Angelica had mentioned in confidence would provide just that.
And so that conversation had led to an expensive hotel room, where Maria had been forced to sit in agonising silence next to Bryony on a couch while a mysterious voice on a laptop had begun to answer their questions on exactly what Angelica had really been proposing. The answers had left both women temporarily speechless.
The game would pit them both in a very public arena, their own University in fact and on Graduation Day no less, in a game to find locations and objects based on cryptic clues. They’d both be given official playing uniforms that – the mysterious voice at the other end of the call had solemnly reassured them – would be perfectly normal. That the voice had felt it necessary to then add the caveat “at the start” after a short pause, had made both women gulp. The first to find three objects based on solving three clues would be judged the winner of the game, and the loser would be in search of a new life, although the mysterious voice again reassured both Bryony and Maria that the organisation it worked for would be quite willing to provide assistance on that front.
However, and this had been the extra catch that had made Maria dizzy at the prospect, solving clues and finding objects wouldn’t just earn her points towards the final tally, it would also mean that Bryony would suffer a penalty. A shiver had gone down her spine at the thought that of course, the reverse was true too. Penalties were associated with their playing uniform and the voice didn’t shirk away from the fact that for the ultimate loser, defeat would be final, absolute and deeply, deeply embarrassing.
When the date of the game had been announced, both women instinctively knew where the organisers were leading to when they said “deeply embarrassing.” The game would happen on Graduation Day – tomorrow as a point of fact, so as to give them little time to reflect on what they’d be signing up for – the day that both Bryony and Maria had been steadfastly and relentlessly working towards for the past four years. The combination of graduation day, a warning that their playing outfits would at some point lead to severe embarrassment, and the promise that one of them would be looking for a new life afterwards, had left them in little doubt. Tomorrow, either Bryony or Maria would need to collect their graduation certificate either naked or at the very least severely compromised in the matter of their personal attire.
At that point, they’d both taken a business card that had been sitting on the small coffee table in the hotel room and then found two sets of contracts that had been discreetly shoved under the door while the voice had been explaining the game.
Bryony and Maria had read them in total silence, re-reading several sections two or three times as their mouths went dry at what was being proposed. Finally, they’d looked at each other. No words were spoken, but their eyes said everything. This would truly be final, and there would be no means of escape. The contracts even stipulated that any contestant who pulled out of the game or who failed to graduate on the day would owe the organisation an amount equal to their student debt. And for both Bryony and Maria, that was already an eye-watering amount that didn’t bear thinking about.
After some hesitation, both women had independently reached the decision that neither of them would be the first to back down, even with stakes so high. The tension between them was so high that they needed some form of permanent life-changing resolution, and the raw anger at recent events removed any sense of perspective. So the contracts were signed, the women had left the room wrapped up in their own thoughts, and the business cards that also held the hand-written locations of where they were to go were now their most prized possessions.
Maria looked back down the street at the retreating back of Bryony Richmond, who was now only partly visible in the throng of pedestrians going about their daily business. Pursing her lips, she relaxed her clenched fist and looked at the now-crumpled card. The location was nearby. They’d start the game tomorrow. She wouldn’t sleep much tonight, she knew that, but with the game starting in the afternoon and her Graduation only an hour or two later, Maria knew without a shadow of a doubt that tomorrow was going to be a very, very busy day of closing out chapters in her life.
****
Bryony emerged into the corridor that ran the length of the top floor of the Economics Department and gave a pensive look in both directions. Behind her, the door to the seminar room that had temporarily turned into a staging area slammed shut. Bryony did an involuntary and instinctive jump, gave a surprised squeak, and clasped her hands over her mouth so as to hold back any further signals that might otherwise betray her presence.
Not that she was dressed in particularly revealing clothing, mind you. Although in Bryony’s experience of being a student in a fair few economics papers, she hadn’t seen many of her peers dressed in a full-blown cheerleader’s outfit. She shivered with a sudden burst of nervous energy in the corridor, wondering what her next move would be. Meanwhile, a small part of her mind that was altogether too focused on her current outfit and not on the task at hand, was dwelling on the fact that indeed she’d never seen a fellow student strut about the department in anything like this.
The cheerleader’s outfit wasn’t excessively skimpy. Not yet at least. A pleated frilly pink skirt-like bottom half billowed out, with the words “Class of 2024!” emblazoned across the back, although it reached halfway down her thighs and a pair of vaguely-respectable smooth pink panties meant there was no danger of her actually flashing anything too intimate. That word “yet” once again bounced into her mind like an uninvited guest, and she tried to usher it sternly out of her imagination.
The skirt was actually connected to the top as part of a single dress, with a thin silver metal belt that seemed more ornamental than functional and that was complemented by two similar silver bracelets on each wrist. The white and pink top half of the dress covered both her front and her back and rolled a few inches down her arms as well. The single word “cheer!” was plastered in a stylish font over her chest, and there was a pattern of pink and white diamonds that was displayed over the tummy region. It was tight, and the organisers had apparently felt it surplus to requirements that she also be provided with a bra, so the dress clung to her athletic curves and accentuated her womanhood.
However, she’d worn tight clothing before, and the dress was just thick enough that her nipples were only slightly visible poking through. Still, Bryony tried to think calm thoughts as she fought the urge to be aroused by this crazy situation she’d managed to get herself into, fearing that a pair of rock-hard diamond-like nipples might cut a hole through the clothing and cause an entirely unnecessary sensation.
Nor was it common for students in the Economics Department to carry bright red pom poms with them, and yet Bryony had two and was currently holding them in her hands, wondering exactly what she was supposed to do with them. She wasn’t going to give whoever was watching over her the satisfaction of seeing her wiggle or jiggle or give them a shake. Instead, she looked down irritably at them and considered simply ditching them.
Still, the organisation had been pretty clear in their rules – any contestant who messed with or modified or made any special efforts to cover up the outfit would suffer a penalty, and a penalty meant further exposure. By extension, a penalty meant being one step closer to having to streak across the graduation stage to the hooting laughter and catcalls of an audience that grew larger in her imagination with every passing second. Still, the pom poms would be a pain to hold while she searched the campus, so it was with some relief that after a moment’s inspection, she realised that each pom pom had a clip on it that could be used to attach them to her belt. Gratefully, she connected one to the belt by each hip, paused momentarily as she briefly feared that a particularly pedantic overseer might consider such an action a punishable infraction, and then let a long sigh of relief as the earpiece remained silent.
Standing still, she tried to control her breathing and calm herself, while she waited impatiently for the first clue. However, the breathing had little effect other than to remind her that she was standing still in a public corridor, precious seconds ticking by, dressed as a cheerleader in an outfit hyped by its manufacturers for its unreliability in providing any semblance of modesty. She may be dressed now, however Bryony had no desire to find out just how skimpy this thing could get. Much better for Maria to find that out for both of them, what with her interest in technology.
“Come on,” Bryony said, hopping from foot to foot in nervous excitement. She was kept in this agitated state for a full minute longer before the voice finally broke the silence.
“Ms Richmond, your first clue is rather straightforward, so as to get you both warmed up. ‘People lap up the chance to crawl, your means to stay the same is in the place where they change.’ Please be aware that Ms Higgins is now aware of the clue as well and is undoubtedly figuring it out as we speak. I would recommend you do likewise. The first to solve the clue and find the target will have the pleasure of knowing their opponent will be the first to find out how imaginative our clothing engineers can be…”
Bryony didn’t need to be told twice and screwing up her face in thought, she spun the clue around in her mind as she tried to find an angle from which it made sense. Then, turning on her heels, she began to hurry towards the elevators. Wherever this clue was going to send her, it was doubtful that it would be on this floor of the Economics Department. Maria would be elsewhere right now. Probably the Computer Science department, if the game masters were going to place Maria somewhere familiar to her like they had Bryony. And Bryony knew her luck wouldn’t extend to the game masters being so kind as to start her practically on top of the first target.
No, she’d be forced to go across campus like this, of that she was sure. And if she was going to have to do that, she might as well start now and get it over with.
****
Bryony was a keen swimmer and that fact was now something she was more grateful than ever before. As she’d descended the elevator, her mind had jumped on the word “lap” in the clue and had latched onto two possibilities: the swimming pool and the athletic track. However, two key insights had quickly convinced her that the swimming pool was her actual target. Firstly, “crawl” was another name for “front crawl” which was in turn the most common type of swimming stroke, even if most people erroneously referred to it as “freestyle” instead. Secondly, the swimming pool on campus was between the Economics Department and the Computer Science Department, and if indeed Maria had been started at the Computer Science Department as she suspected, then the Pool Complex would be a destination that gave both women an even chance if it came down to a sprint.
So here she was, hurrying along a broad path under the bright afternoon sun with people wandering around and not-so-secretly sneaking quick looks at her as she passed by. Bryony was feeling tense, not so much at the state of her outfit now but at the thought that the outfit had been booby-trapped to reveal her body in unknown ways should she fail to acquire her target first. If Maria had figured it out at the same time as Bryony – or worse, earlier – then this was going to be a straight race that went down to the wire.
She was slowly getting accustomed to being outside in her cheerleader’s outfit but still blushed slightly when she happened to pass by two members of Grant’s football team, neither of whom made any attempt to hide their smirks. She had no intention of stopping to try and defend her honour and simply powered on, as she tried to convince herself that she was absolutely on the right path. She was two-thirds of the way to the Pool Complex when she caught sight of another woman in the distance, also dressed up as a cheerleader, and hurrying off to the south. Bryony realised with a jolt that the woman was Maria, and that she was carrying the two pom poms on her belt too.
Bryony slowed down and watched on as Maria ran down a path that would lead her towards the athletics track. So Maria had either not thought of the pool or had thought the track was the better of the two options. For a few seconds, Bryony felt a wave of sorrow for her ex-friend. There had been plenty of good times between the two women before the troubles. As much as a cheerleader’s outfit was a little alien to Bryony, it would be nothing compared to how Maria would feel. Her once-friend now-enemy was more used to over-sized t-shirts, pants and sweatshirts, and had never been one to voluntarily break out a top that accentuated her naturally large breasts. A cheerleader’s outfit, especially one with no bra, would probably be causing Maria to have panic attacks.
Then the wave of sorrow broke on the rocky shores of Bryony’s deep anger and resentment at what Maria had done, and the wave retreated. Bryony remembered Grant’s angry words and snarling rejection, words that had stung so deeply and that had come about because of the video he’d been sent. She also remembered the bitter fight between her and Maria that night, where “best friends forever” had turned out to be rather more time-limited than first believed. Then she remembered the photo and the website, and her resolve stiffened even further. Maria would go down and go down hard, as justice demanded. Bryony’s eyes narrowed as she watched the receding figure of her opponent, and then picked up her pace again. If she was right about the swimming pool, then any minor panic attacks Maria might be having over her current outfit would soon turn out to be mere warm-up acts to the main event.
****
Bryony ducked into the women’s changing rooms by the pool and quickly surveyed the room. White wooden benches ran along the edges of the room, and there was a wider bench in the middle as well. There were still small pools of water on the floor where swimmers had dripped while drying, and a couple of discarded and forgotten towels still lay strewn across the benches or hanging up off hooks. To the right, there were a series of shower cubicles and around a corner in the far left ran a short corridor that led to a small toilet block.
Happily, there was no one else in the changing rooms, and even though her clothing had prompted a few looks and raised eyebrows, nobody had openly challenged her yet. As her eyes settled on a small plastic box sitting in plain sight on a bench in the right-hand corner of the room, she gave a fist pump in mute celebration and made directly for it.
The plain blue box simply had “DE” inscribed on each of the six sides of the cube, and was otherwise completely devoid of any other decoration. “DE,” “Decider Enterprises,” was the name of the organisation that had formed this game and given them their contracts, Bryony thought, quickly making the obvious connection between the cube and the game masters.
It didn’t seem to open up to reveal any kind of stored artefact, and as she delicately picked it up and turned it over in her hands, Bryony gave a startled jump as the voice in her ear broke the silence.
“Congratulations Ms Richmond!” The voice said smoothly. “You have found the first target and have taken an early lead! Of course, while the game is still far from over, I’ll know that you’ll take some well-earned confidence from the fact that you’ll be hunting for the second clue while still wearing your perfectly modest and ordinary outfit. Ms Higgins on the other hand, will not be able to say the same!”
How the organisers knew where they were, or how they were seemingly able to witness what Bryony or Maria were up to, Bryony did not know. But right now that wasn’t important either – the only important matters were the clues, these cubes, and the very real fear that someone was graduating naked today, and it would be a disaster of immeasurable proportions if that someone was Bryony Richmond.
“Come on,” Bryony murmured, “give us the next damn clue!”
****
Bryony peered around the corner and eyed up the expanse that was the lobby beyond. If she tried for the main door and got outside, she’d first have to walk past half a dozen freshmen students who were congregated around a table playing cards near the pool cafe. They hadn’t been there when she’d arrived. Why they were indoors on such a nice late afternoon, with the sun blazing outside and so much outdoorsy stuff to do, was something that Bryony could only speculate about darkly. She muttered under her breath at the stupidity of some people and briefly experimented with simply willing them to be gone. After a few seconds of this and realising they seemed to be staying resolutely in place, Bryony sighed and decided she’d just have to brave it. After all, her uniform was still perfectly intact so what was she really risking? She’d walked all the way here in the same outfit, after all.
However, winning the race to the first target had made Bryony really focus on the reality of what they were doing right now. Somewhere near the track, a mortified Maria would be suffering the consequences of her outfit’s mischievous magic, causing all sorts of problems. That had suddenly given Bryony pause for reflection, and more than a little self-concern around the vulnerability and predicament that she’d let anger get herself into.
After her first success (of many still to come, she was chanting to herself), the next clue had been swiftly delivered, with both a warning and a promise that Ms Higgins would also receive the clue, although only after she’d find her playing outfit somewhat harder to handle than it was before. That Bryony could be on the other side of such a conversation in the near future wasn’t directly said, but the voice didn’t need to. Bryony knew all too well that this was the case, and she knew Maria was smart and determined and wouldn’t give up. Once upon a time, those same qualities had caused Bryony and Maria to really bond and form a tight friendship.
At least the new clue had been a refreshingly straightforward one to solve though, and it had only taken Bryony five minutes of deduction while sitting in the women’s changing rooms to determine that her next destination would be the northern stands by the campus’s main sports field. Which, if she was lucky, would be devoid of teams practising, given the graduation event that was looming up large on her horizon.
Chiding herself for being silly and wasting precious time, Bryony arched her back in determination, gave the men at the table a steely stare, and strode out as calmly as she could manage.
It took a few seconds for them to notice her, as she quickly but smoothly covered the ground between the corridor she’d been in and the wide double doors that represented her escape path. Although given there were undoubtedly others on campus, it wasn’t clear that her supposed escape path wasn’t simply a case of climbing out of a frying pan and landing herself squarely in a fire.
Nevertheless, she felt emboldened as she felt the guys’ quiet stares follow her across the room. Pressing her shoulders back and sticking her jaw out, she almost felt a sense of control over them as she moved and their heads moved with her.
Bryony was halfway across the room though when her brief interlude of self-belief was rudely punctured by the voice in her earpiece.
“Ms Richmond. The game is well and truly on now, for Ms Higgins has made a vital discovery and squared us up at 1-1!” Bryony’s eyes flashed with a mixture of dread and anger, and she froze on the spot as she found herself caught in two minds. The door was still ahead, however, now the men’s gaze was no longer something she felt control over, but rather the precursor to them witnessing something cataclysmic happening to her outfit. The sensation was made all the worse by the fact that Bryony had no idea what would happen to her outfit, allowing her active imagination to begin to fill in the blanks. She could instead turn and beat a hasty retreat. If something was going to happen, it was best it happened in a nice secluded space where she could figure out a way to cope. In the middle of the lobby for the Pool Complex didn’t exactly count as “nice and secluded.”
Bryony unleashed a string of curses, and if her cheerleader’s outfit hadn’t guaranteed the full attention of the students at the table, her outburst sealed the deal. Of course, she swore, if Maria had made a bad mistake in heading to the track for the first clue, she’d at least have had the satisfaction of realising that the second clue was leading her directly to a spot only next door at the football fields. It had probably only taken Maria a couple of minutes to cover the distance and now Bryony was stuck in the wrong part of campus and with her lead evaporating in front of her eyes.
Caught in two minds as she was, Bryony allowed herself to commit the ultimate sin – total inaction. And so it that Bryony Richmond was still stuck in the middle of the lobby on full display when she felt a tingling next to her crotch. Looking down in horror, she gasped audibly as she saw what was happening. The skirt, frilly and pink but at least of a length that was vaguely modest, was now visibly shortening. It stayed frilly, and even seemed to billow as if being played with by a non-existent breeze inside the building, however with every passing second more and more of her creamy thighs came into view.
At the same time, the tingling in her crotch suddenly stopped. However, as she felt the material of her panties suddenly depart from her sensitive skin, Bryony felt herself yearning again for that strange tingle. Whatever it had been, it now seemed that the very fabric of her panties had managed to rend itself into three completely separate parts. Such a configuration was not designed to stay on Bryony’s body, and with a paralysed helplessness, Bryony could only watch in embarrassed dismay as three pieces of soft, sexy pink material dropped down from what was now barely qualifying as a micro-skirt, and gently landed on the ground around her ankles.
Slowly looking up, her face going red with humiliation, she made the rookie mistake of making eye contact with the men around the table. Their previously somewhat discreet leering had – after a few brief moments of absolute shock – turned into full-on, bugged-eye, jaw-dropping perving, and there was a burst of whispered comments shared between them that – in their excitement – were practically shouted instead. They were certainly loud enough to make their way to Bryony’s ears, where they burned and caused her red cheeks to turn an even brighter shade.
Her embarrassment was not yet quite over. The top half of the dress unceremoniously detached itself from the bottom half, and while the thin belt at least kept the remains of the skirt covering – albeit only just – her ass cheeks and pussy, the top shrank upwards to reveal her tight, firm belly. At the same time, the chest area contracted even more, and her bra-less breasts became even more prominent and obvious underneath. Two hard nipples now stuck out prominently, and at least one of the men had his eyes locked on to them as if they were headlights and he was a deer caught in their glow.
Giving a short shriek of embarrassment, Bryony finally found the energy and will to move her leaden feet. Instinctively pressing her thighs together, and cursing the bounciness of the remaining skirt material, she dashed for the door, feeling the air whip against parts of her upper thighs that were most definitely not used to this kind of attention, not to mention the feeling of a light breeze teasing the underside of her bare crotch and ass cheeks.
As the doors slid open to reveal the wide open grassy area of the campus beyond, Bryony sprinted through to destinations unknown, not even caring to wait for her next clue, and preferring instead to find somewhere reassuringly isolated to calm down, gather her thoughts, and regroup for the battle ahead. As she half ran, half crab-walked to stop her ridiculous skirt from revealing too much though, she came to the disheartening realisation that Graduation Day for the University was a day not just to celebrate, but for families who had spent fortunes on their kids to get one last look at the campus facilities they’d paid so much to fund.
As the graduation event approached, Bryony knew with a sinking heart that the campus would only get busier and busier, and “reassuringly isolated safe places” were about to become in very, very short supply indeed.
[Continued in Part 2.]
