Mildred's Story
I woke up before the alarm rang and went to my closet. It still had over 5000 dresses and as many slips, but no pants--no jeans, slacks, shorts, culottes, skorts, anything with a crotch.
It was Saturday, so I figured I'd find something casual. There was some order to the clothes, and I had a choice of what to wear on any given day, but I couldn't change once I put something on. Every day I had to wear a half or full slip along with a blouse and skirt or a dress. Why? Well, that's the story I'm about to tell you.
A year before, I had gone to the mall with a couple of my friends, one of whom I'll call Jena (pronounce it however you like; it's not her real name). Although we didn't know it at first, Jena was a kleptomaniac. She enjoyed shoplifting. She liked to wear long jean skirts and hide a stolen pair of shorts or knee-highs underneath and wear them out of the store. She sometimes stole panties by leaving her old pair on the rack, knowing no one would be suspicious till closing time at the end of the day--when she would be long gone. On this day, Jena told us her little "five-finger discount" secret, and invited us to come along. We all wore jean skirts, but only Jena and I wore long ones; Cathy (also not her real name) wore a tight miniskirt and told us she would be a distraction. I didn't much see the point, since most of the employees in the stores were also girls in tight minis, but who was I to argue? Cathy never actually stole anything, and I usually just watched Jena, prepared to give a discreet signal if I thought she was going to get caught.
We quickly learned not to travel together, and often we would go into different stores at the same time so that it didn't appear we were a group. Jena and I mostly stole cosmetics or other rubbish that could be easily explained to our parents if they found them and got suspicious. We avoided one end of the mall where we believed the security guards were a little more suspicious and there appeared to be lots of security cameras, though sometimes we went into the area just to look like ordinary "honest" shoppers.
"I've got these boots with secret pockets in them," Jena said to us at the mall one day. She showed us that the boots ended above her knees. "If I wear them with this dress, see the deep pocket here?"
The dress looked like an ordinary green floral-print dress, although it was a bit longer than normal. Jena told us the bottom of one of the pockets had a hole in it which opened up just above the top of the boot. "I can take whatever I want," she said, "and it winds up down here." She put a tube of lipstick in her pocket, then took off her boot and pulled it out. From that time on, I wanted a dress like Jena's, but Cathy was satisfied with her tight miniskirts.
Meanwhile, I had taken to listening to alternative music groups, including a group called George & the Clydes. One of the singers always performed in a dress that looked like a full slip. When I saw that they had a new CD out, I decided I had to have it. I planned to steal it the following Saturday when we went to the mall. I put on my slip that most looked like the singer's dress, then went with a T-shirt and long denim skirt over it. Cathy wore her usual, while Jena had on her dress and boots combo.
We ate lunch separately after arriving at the mall. I sat at a burger joint that allowed me to watch the store where CDs were sold. I didn't see anything of Cathy or Jena, who might have been working one of the boutiques that we frequented. Jena felt their security was pretty lax, but I could see a security guard watching the CD store the whole time. Suddenly, though, I saw him leave, and watched him turn into the corridor that led to the men's room. Must be time for his break, I thought, and walked steadily toward the CD store. A couple of minutes later, I had found my CD. It was expensive, but I wasn't worried about the price. I slipped it into my pocket, waited a minute or so, and left the store. "Oh, miss, you forgot something!" shouted the security guard. He was back already? I turned and looked at him. A young woman in a dress that looked like a long T-shirt stood next to him.
She whispered something in the guard's ear. "You better come with me, miss," he said loudly. I looked around but saw I nowhere to go.
"Is there a problem?" I asked innocently.
"May I see what you have in your pocket?"
"No, you may not," I said. "May I go now?"
"No, you'll have to come with us," said another security guard, who was moving his billy club in and out of its sheath.
"Why?" I asked.
"We believe you stole some items from this store. You will have to come with us while we wait for the police. It will only take a few minutes," said the first guard.
"You can either cooperate with us, or we will ask a female police officer to come and strip search you. If she finds anything in your pocket that we identify as stolen, she will ask you to remove all of your clothes to see what else you have taken that you should not have."
"No," I said.
"If you refuse to be searched, then you will be spending at least one night in jail. And you look old enough to be going to a real jail, not juvenile hall."
I was scared, but tried not to look it. They took me up a short flight of steps to a small room, sort of an improvised office. There was only a round table and a couple of chairs, and the first security guard made me sit in one chair while the other guard sat in the other.
"You want to strip search me, don't you?" I said to the second guard after the other guard left. "You want to find out what I'm wearing under my skirt." I looked at him. "I'm not going to let you find out." I stood up and walked to the door. He stood up to block me. I could see he was aroused. I returned to my seat. I sat down and crossed my legs. "I think you have hidden cameras in here to try and look at things you shouldn't see."
The guard started to get a red face. "You look thirsty," I said after a few minutes. "It's a hot day. Too bad there's no water here. Do you have to go to the bathroom? It must be tough being thirsty at the same time you have to go."
He was starting to look hot and bothered. "I'm fine," he said, but I could tell he wasn't.
"There's a bathroom down on the floor," I said. "I saw the other guard go to it a few minutes ago. Is there a drinking fountain there? I suppose there is. I'm glad I drank a lot at lunchtime. I'm not like other girls. I have a strong bladder. I can go all day without peeing. I usually don't have to use public restrooms. They're not very clean, you know--especially the toilet seats. I use the paper thingy if they have one. Most don't."
The guard stood up and walked out of the room. I quickly pulled the CD out of my pocket and began wiping it with the hem of my skirt. I stood up, set it on the table, then put my hand in my pocket to turn the doorknob. I didn't want to leave prints anywhere. The door opened quietly, and I saw no one in the hallway. I noticed that in the direction away from the stores, there was a door going outside. A sign said it was alarmed. Alarmed or not, it was my only chance. I quietly closed the door to the small office and slipped down the corridor. I pushed open the door, but heard no alarm sound. The alarm was probably turned off during the day, but it might also be a silent alarm.
I stepped out into the sunshine and quickly closed the door. I quickly got my bearings and realized that the bus stop for the bus that went to my house was there. I pulled out my bus pass and boarded the first bus that came by. It was headed downtown, but I could get home in a few minutes more by making a couple of transfers.
Two minutes later, I got off the bus and waited for the crosstown shuttle to come by. It ran every fifteen minutes, and I figured I had a ten-minute wait. But it was late, so I was able to get on right away. I wasn't safe yet, of course, because I'd have to make another transfer at the transit center and go across the river. But the center was a busy place, and a teenager in a long skirt was just one of the crowd.
The bus that took me home ran in a loop, but since I lived near the middle of it, it didn't matter which way I went. The bus I took got me where I lived about five minutes quicker than the one going the other way did, however, so I would be home in less than twenty minutes. I rang the bell about three blocks from where I wanted to get off, so I had to walk an extra couple of blocks. In addition, I took a round-about route through the neighborhood, hoping to make sure nobody who might have followed me would figure out where I lived.
"You're home early," Mom said.
"Yeah, Jena and Cathy both had some other stuff to do, so we cut it short." We had been gone three hours, so "cutting it short" was probably not the right word, but Mom wasn't suspicious.
I went to my room to take off my shoes and socks. Sometimes I went barefoot into restaurants and stores when I had on a long skirt, just to see if the "NO SHIRT NO SHOES NO SERVICE" rule would be enforced. Today, however, I just took off my footwear and flopped over on my bed. It had been a close call, and I decided not to hang around with Jena and Cathy, at least not for a while. I would also have to stay out of the mall.
"Good choice, Mildred," the voices said. One was high-pitched but male; the other, definitely female.
Even though Mildred wasn't my name, I knew they were talking to me. They were my conscience, I guessed, and had visited on two previous occasions.
"What do you want?" I said in my mind.
"You have done something very bad, and you must be punished."
"I didn't keep the disk," I reminded them.
"You only left it to cover your tracks. You caused trouble. You must be punished."
"Well, I won't go to the mall anymore, at least not with Jena and Cathy," I said in my mind. "That's enough."
"No, it's not enough. Open the door to your closet."
I opened the door, and found that it was full of clothes--dresses, skirts, suits and the like, as far as I could see. "Did I steal these clothes, too?" I asked.
"No, but you would have if we hadn't stopped you."
"Really? Well, I guess I won't have to steal them now."
"No, but you will have to wear them--and nothing else."
"Yeah, well, I'll have to wear underwear, too," I said in my mind.
Another door in the closet that I had never seen before opened. Beyond it were racks of slips--half, full, even ballgown petticoats. For some of the half slips, there were camisoles. There were even a few corsets, all-in-ones, and other garments I wouldn't even try to name. "Everything you will wear or need to wear is in these closets. There are enough clothes to last you fifteen years."
"Fifteen years?" I all but shouted in my mind.
"Five-thousand four-hundred and eighty suits. You will wear each one once. There are the same number of slips. You will start wearing these clothes tomorrow."
"And if I don't?"
"We'll make sure the police find you."
I figured I could last till the statute of limitations ran out.
"And each time you wear something not in your closet, you'll lose a body part--forever. We'll start with your toes, then the rest of your feet, then your legs--one side at a time."
The next morning, I began going through my closet, looking for something appropriate to wear. It was a Sunday, and while we didn't usually go to church, I didn't want to look like trash in case we did, since I wouldn't be allowed to change. On the other hand, I didn't want to dress up for nothing. I found a wrap-around skirt that looked good anywhere, however, and hoped I would be able to find something similar every Sunday when I didn't know about our plans for church.
That was a year ago. I now have on a black slip with a tulip hem under a white denim skirt. The panties and bra came with the slip, as they always do. I'm also wearing a T-shirt, the only garment that I get to choose on my own (sometimes). I've got fourteen years to go before my punishment is finished.
I can wait.
Home