1. Dress Off: Sasha vs Tara (Part 1)


    Date: 11/2/2017, Categories: Exhibitionism, Author: staceyshackleton, Rating: 9, Source: LushStories

    Sasha Sinclair looked out at the street in front of her, pedestrians wandering by in the heat of the afternoon summer sun, oblivious to her as she stood in the doorway of the Loaded Parrot. She was only a few feet away now from the footpath. That meant she was only a few feet away from what was about to happen, finally happening. A small red light over the door glared at her, unblinkingly, unresponsive to the thoughts going through her mind. She sighed to herself, looked over her shoulder, and adjusted the tiny earpiece fitted discretely in her left ear. As she waited, she reflected briefly on the fact that the discreteness of the earpiece probably set it apart from the rest of her ensemble, which she very much doubted was anything other than highly indiscrete. Not that a casual observer would have noticed too much untoward about the clothes she was currently wearing. Sasha certainly made the ordinary-looking sleeveless white top and red shorts look their best. The red wrist bands were a slight throwback to a time that fashion would do best forgetting, but anyone looking at Sasha wouldn’t be worrying about the wristbands. At 23, Sasha was in peak condition, a trim and taut body framed beautifully by flowing shoulder-length brown hair. A University education half-spent on the athletics track had the kind of effect that tended to draw attention. But the ordinary-ness of the white top and red shorts was tempered by the simple fact that they weren't hers, that they had been given ...
    to her for a very precise reason, and that reason was a game she was already having second thoughts on. She glanced over her shoulder again at a nondescript man doing his best to look impassive while nonetheless stealing the occasional glance at Sasha's well-defined legs, and she half-opened her mouth to say something. “Not having second thoughts are we now, Sasha?” The voice crackled over her earpiece before she'd even formed the first syllable. Sasha kept looking at the nondescript man, who was seemingly unaware and indifferent to anything being said over the comms channel, and she sighed for the second time in only a minute. Sasha looked back at the door to the street beyond. “Oh, not at all – it's peachy,” Sasha said to herself, confident that the voice at the other end would hear her. “What's not to love? I'm about to walk out there in clothes you provided, and that – may I say – are far too innocent looking to be all that they appear. I don't suppose you have any hints or warnings in you that are dying to get out?” “Sorry darling, you know I'm strictly impartial in all of this, and giving you hints and warning would hardly be fair to dear Tara, now would it?” Sasha snorted. Tara. Tara Tennyson. The cause, reason and motivation for all that was about to unfold. Somewhere out there, Tara Tennyson would be standing in front of a similar door, probably wearing similar clothes, and almost certainly having a similar conversation with a similarly disembodied voice. “Let's get ...
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