We entered our lighted room lined with clothes racks, bearing immodestly skimpy tunics, all shimmering translucent white, not even long enough to cover our p*****s. Our guides released us from our harnesses and ordered us to choose a tunic in our size and put it on.
There was only one narrow shoulder strap, so only our left breast would be covered. The right one was openly displayed. The fabric was whisper-soft silk, so delicately woven our bodies could be seen through the filmy material. If we stood with the sun behind us, it would appear that only a pale shadow was draped across our nakedness. When we were dressed, we were strapped up in our harnesses again.
Dressed? My god, what a cruel joke. The bottoms of our tunics don’t even come down far enough to hide our pubic hair. What delici
