The Rent.

Part 10, Something Familiar.

Nina West, paralegal at the firm founded in partnership by her deceased grandfather, was once again working in the basement.  Unlike her previous task, this time she wasn't stuck there.  This project involved all four of her fellow paralegals.  Nina, being the new girl, was given the task of hauling needed files back and forth from the basement storage rooms.

Nina was dressed in one of her IO designed business suits, and looked both smart and very feminine in the well-tailored outfit.  This one was blue, which complemented her eyes.  For a change, the blouse was dark enough so a bra couldn't be seen through it.  The added support was very welcome to the young woman, for most of her time was spent not only without a bra on, but also without any clothes at all.  Really, the way her life had been going over the last month or so, the only time she got to wear clothes was while at work.  Support for her breasts was a welcome change.

She was hardly thinking about that now, though; her mind was elsewhere as she carried a large stack of files to the storage room.  In fact, her mind was on one of her workmates, a guy with the unlikely name of Byron.  Nina was worrying over asking the good-looking young man out on a date.  She was not worried about his reaction, but about what would happen when he found out about her unusual living arrangements, as he surely would if she started dating the man.  Would he be understanding about her "Rent", or would he be the kind of guy who would take advantage of it, dropping by her home at odd times so he could take a look at her naked body without her being able to do anything about it.  Nina needed to think about it some more, but she was itching to go out sometime.  It would be nice to have a social life again.

Her mind filled with these thoughts as she entered the large file storage area, she almost didn't hear the metallic scrape from the back of the room or the small feminine whimper that accompanied it.

Curious, she walked around the file carousels to where a large section of regular shelving was standing.  Back here was where maintenance stored the excess office equipment owned by the firm.  Old roller printers vied for space with boxes of unused copy paper and almost antique telephones.  The firm evidently threw nothing away.

Nina heard another whimper, and she rounded a corner in the very back and encountered a disaster.  It looked like a shelf unit had collapsed, bringing down a bunch of old manual typewriters, filling the aisle from side to side.  Under this mess, seemingly pinned down, was a young blonde woman with a frightened look in her eyes.  She saw Nina and almost screamed, then quickly sighed in relief.

"Oh thank God," she said.  "You're a woman.  I could really use your help!"

"Oh, God," Nina said, looking at the mess, "What happened?  Are you hurt?  I'll go get some help!"

"NO!" screamed the blonde.  "Please...don't!  I just need a little help.  Please?"

Nina could see the blonde really didn't want anyone else to be there, so she nodded and stepped forward.  Examining the mess, she could see that the old fashioned typewriters had really locked themselves together; the strikers and keys combining themselves into a metal web.

"What happened?" Nina asked, tugging gently on one of the machines.

"I was sent down here to pick up one of these monstrosities for a charity fundraiser.  I work right now for an antique store that specializes in old machinery.  The typewriter I'm on is supposed to be very rare and valuable.  Your firm donated it."

Nina looked up.  The blonde was blushing, and Nina could see why.  Not only had the typewriters intertwined with each other, they had also hooked themselves into the simple dress the blonde was wearing...or almost wearing.  Tears in the material were already appearing, and it looked to Nina as if only one button was standing between the blonde's modesty and her very generous breasts being fully exposed.

'Hasn't this woman heard of a bra?' Nina thought.  Then she figured the blonde probably couldn't find one her size.

"So, how did you end up on the floor?" Nina asked.

The blonde blushed further.  " one I wanted was on shelf.  I had to climb up to get it, and...well...slipped."

"Bringing down the whole mess on top of you," Nina finished with a sigh.  She pulled at one of the machines and heard a rip.

"Oh no!" said the blonde.

"Sorry," Nina replied, now seeing a gaping hole in the blonde's dress big enough to tell what color panties she had on.  "The way your dress is caught up, it's going to rip a little as I pull these things off you.  It's almost as if they were deliberately trying to rip your clothes off.  Well, at least something like this doesn't happen everyday."

The blonde blushed even further, thinking that things like this happened far too frequently for her taste.

Nina felt some sympathy for the buxom blonde, knowing what it was like to suddenly be faced with the humiliation of being undressed.

"My name's Nina," she said, introducing herself.

The blonde mumbled a name that Nina barely caught, but seemed too preoccupied and embarrassed to say much more.

Nina worked in silence for a moment.

"Dammit, I can't lift these without ripping your dress, and I can't reach through them to free it.  Can you?"

The blond shook her head.  She was stuck trying to support her own body, a typewriter directly under her back.  To move her hands meant lying on it and she could feel that a part of it would actually cut her if she did.  She explained that to her rescuer.

"Okay," said Nina, taking off her jacket and laying it to one side, "I'm going to have to rip your dress then; there's nothing else for it.  I'll go get you something to wear afterward."

"Thank you, just hurry, please.  I'm not sure how long I can hold this position."

Nina nodded and grabbed a machine.  Tugging and pulling, she seemed to make more progress ripping the blonde girl's dress to shreds than in moving the mass of typewriters.  Sure enough, that lone surviving button popped, and Nina was treated to the sight of two large, well developed breasts springing to view.

"Oh no!" said the blonde, seeing this.  But she couldn't move to cover herself, so she blushed furiously at her exposure.

'At least it isn't a guy helping me,' she thought, knowing how much "help" men had given her in the past.

There was another big rip, and the blonde felt her back suddenly become bare.

"Oops," Nina said, "sorry.  But I think I can lift this up enough to let you slide out if I can get over to the other side.  Hang on."

The blonde watched as Nina tried to step around the mass of typewriters that blocked the aisle, but the young woman's close fitting skirt hampered her movements.  Nina stepped back, and after a second shrugged.  "Well, I guess I have no other choice.  At least this way you won't be the only one embarrassed today."

Nina smiled, kicked off her shoes, and undid the catch on her skirt, slipping out of the delicate material and placing it with her jacket.  Now she stood in just her bra, panties, and blouse.  The bottom of the blouse wasn't long enough to hide anything.

The blonde was surprised, but also thankful that the loss of the skirt allowed the athletic young woman to easily clamber around the dam of typewriters.  Nina crouched down beside her, a slight blush on her own face.

"Okay, I'm going to lift now, and you scoot forward rather than back.  You won't be able to get past the typewriter underneath you otherwise.  Okay?"

The blonde smiled.  "Oh, thank you for doing this for me.  You don't know how much I appreciate it!"

Nina smiled back.  "Well, I couldn't have left you here like this.  Are you ready?"

The blonde nodded and Nina took up her position.  Squatting like a weight lifter, Nina strained to move the interlocked mass of machines.  A woman her size might not normally have been able to shift the weight, but Nina's daily swimming regime had built up her musculature to the point that she could make a difference.  It was hard work though, and Nina could feel the typewriters digging into her as she lifted the awkward load.

"Just a little more," the blonde said, accompanied with more ripping noises.

Nina doubled her efforts and felt a pull between her own breasts.  Looking down, she saw a striker from one of the machines was poking her in the chest and had become caught in the material of her blouse.

'Oh no,' Nina thought.

There was another ripping sound, and Nina watched the blonde begin her slide to freedom.  It was like watching a butterfly emerge from its cocoon, the blonde leaving the tattered remains of her dress behind as she emerged from the pile in just her panties and shoes.

"I'm out!" said the blonde triumphantly and Nina dropped her load.  Unfortunately, she didn't get away scot-free; there was another rip and a large tear appeared in the front of her blouse.  That wasn't all.  The striker snagged on the front of her bra and Nina was dragged down with the machines.  She was suddenly trapped on her knees, her hands also caught via her blouse sleeves, with her knees spread wide and the front of her bra pulled forward.  This of course caused her own breasts to spill out of the garment, and they could be seen hanging through the rip in the blouse.

"Help me!" Nina yelled.  Caught, overbalanced, and suddenly exposed, she was suddenly frightened.

"Hold on!" the blonde said, glad to be out, but concerned for her rescuer.  The embarrassed and nearly nude blonde clamped an arm over her breasts and tried to step across the pile of typewriters as Nina had done.  But machinery had shifted a little when Nina lifted it, and the clearance wasn't the same.

The blonde put a foot wrong and her shapely ankle suddenly became wedged between two typewriters.  Unbalanced, the blonde fell back, catching her last remaining piece of clothing on a handy carriage return.  Unable to stop her fall, the blonde felt her panties stretch, then snap.

"EEEEK!" she yelled as she landed, and the sudden shift in weight pulled at the mass of equipment, moving it and snapping open Nina's bra.

Now both women were trapped, and they looked at each other in horror.  Nina was trapped in a kneeling position, her breasts very visible through her torn blouse, as were her panties due to her wide apart knees.  The blonde was now lying on her back, her hands behind her holding her off the mass of sharp metal below her, trying not to get impaled and unable to hide any part of her now nude body.

It was the kind of situation only horny sex-story writers could have thought up, but it was very real to them, and they both started screaming for help.

"What's going on back there?" asked a voice, and both Nina and the blonde shut up.

A frightened look on both their faces, they were relieved to see another female face poke around the corner at the far end of the aisle.

"Oh thank God, you're a woman.  We could really use your help!" said the blonde.

Nina just grinned, embarrassed beyond measure.  "Hello, Helen."

Helen walked toward the mess, eyes wide as she took in the blonde's nude form and Nina's almost as revealing one.

"When you didn't come back, they sent me down to look for you.  What happened?  Shall I go get some help?"

"NO!" shouted both trapped women.

The pile of typewriters moved slightly, as if sensing another victim.


Nina and Helen climbed into Nina's Geo.  Nina wore only her skirt and jacket; her blouse and bra were wrecked and unwearable.  Helen wore a borrowed robe, her own dress ripped severely up the back.  Together they paused and watched the blonde in her battered red Ford pull out of the parking lot and into the street.

"That woman is a disaster area," Helen commented.

"She certainly doesn't have much luck with clothes," Nina said, inclining her head toward the one-way exit to this particular employee parking lot of the firm.  Trapped in the door was the robe the blonde had borrowed, since her own clothing was completely useless.  Somehow, the luckless woman had gotten the hem caught.  Unable to open the door from the outside and terrified, she had fled completely naked to her car, and driven off hunched down as far as she could.

Nina hoped she wouldn't have a traffic accident on the way home.

"She's also a danger to be anywhere near.  What was her name again; I want to be able to avoid her?" Helen said acidly.

Nina tried to remember as she started the car.  "I think she said Jenny, but I can't be sure."

The two friends chuckled and pulled out into traffic.

End of Part 10.