Muslim Girls Wardrobe Disaster

The alarm emphatically blared, interrupting Amira's perfect dream. In her usual groggy state in the morning, the young woman smacked her phone a few times before returning to sleep. This process would repeat over the next hour 5 or 6 times. Fully aware of her inability to wake up on time, Amira set plenty of backup alarms, but only the final one did its job of breaking her trance. Unfortunately for her, it was already 7:45, fifteen minutes before school began. Seeing the time, she sprang into acting, cursing her sleeping habits yet again.

For any high school girl in her senior year, fifteen minutes wouldn't be enough to prepare for a full eight-hour day. For Amira, a practicing Muslim, fifteen minutes might as well of be 15 seconds. Unlike nearly all her contemporaries, she never wore makeup, mostly because she didn't need to. Her caramel-colored skin was consistent and spotless, perfectly contrasting her dark brown eyes, mesmerizing and inviting. Amira's face was enough to grab everyone's attention, but her body made her every boy's dream in school. Standing around 5'6, the 18-year-old didn't have an extra ounce of unnecessary fat due to her healthy diet.

More importantly, her skinnier physique did not hamper her amble breasts, which measured 36D and came in impeccable round shape. Finally, Amira's body saved the best for last with her enormous heart-shaped ass that enthralled men and stupefied women. Despite having these features that her classmates would kill for (either to have themselves or for themselves), Amira's conservative and religious nature made them almost a curse. She certainly wasn't a prude, she made friends easily, and even had a boyfriend or two. Overall, however, she hated showing a sort of promiscuity, let alone some skin around her schoolmates. If time permitted, Amira meticulously planned her outfits, including a hijab or other headwear, to conceal both her skin and her abundant assets.

This made her oversleeping habits detrimental to her traditional ways. Despite her beauty and intelligence, Amira was incredibly lazy, not only oversleeping but always behind on laundry or planning things ahead of time. Scrambling as she got up from bed, she barely had time to scrounge an outfit together.

'No way, this can't be the only pair of underwear I have...'.

Regretting her apathy far too late, Amira skulked at her only choice of undergarments for the day. Struggling to pull them on, Amira shivered at the thought of walking around school in these, the feel of them hardly covering some of her butts. The matching bra was not much better. Amira's preferred granny panties and bra combo would work to conceal her ass and breasts, so she was acutely aware of how her body was in full display. However, she'd just have to survive this one day.

Praying for something to go right, Amira fumbled through her dresser for more 'proper clothing'. Unfortunately for her, she couldn't even find a tank top or leggings. Besides shorts and t-shirts that were reserved for home use, all she had to conceivably wear was a long-sleeved floral dress, seldom worn. It wasn't too tight, although she had no way of knowing how she looked from behind.

But now Amira realized she spent almost 10 minutes getting dressed, so she threw it on, slipped on her long black boots to cover her legs that the dress left open, and hastily wrapped a plain beige hijab along with her comically large glasses, not even bothering with her contacts this morning. Finally ready (if you can call this 'ready' she thought regrettably to herself), she got into her car and uncharacteristically sped to school, knowing that another tardy mark would deduct her first-period math grade. This would be the beginning of a very abnormal (and dreadful) day for the beautiful young woman.

Shuffling as fast as she could to period one, Amira completely forgot her state of dress, all that was on her mind was being on time. In a split second, the first bell rant as she clumsily made her way into class, almost falling. The teacher, Mr. Harrison, remained unfazed and continued nonchalantly writing the lesson plan on the board.

"I wonder who that is." He sarcastically announces while he continues to write. "Sorry, Amira but this is one too many tardies. You have to report to..."

He froze as he turned around to see the dashing girl bending down to put her bag down. She was completely out of breath and discombobulated, and similarly suspended herself in a bent down position. By now half the class looked up to their phones, but most only saw the front of Amira. Meanwhile, the middle-aged teacher got a reminder of his younger days as he remained enthralled by the sight of the 45° angled woman, as he saw the sight of his (mid)life. She nervously pulled a 180, ready to make her way to the office. Finally regaining his composure, Mr. Harrison finally broke the silence.

"Uh, actually, traffic was pretty bad coming in, so don't worry about being late."

Satisfied with this, both parties went to their desks, as the teacher sat down primarily to wait for his surprise erection to leave.

'Yeah, everyone work on the do-now in chapter 13 on trigonometry, I have to, Um, prepare a test.'

Many students were perplexed about the lack of his usual berating of the class for the previous week's poor performance. Most happily went back to their phones, but a few of the boys, especially the underclassmen, keenly noticed his behavior. And despite not getting the heavenly view Mr. Harrison had, these horny adolescents knew full well what he was reacting to. They also noticed that Amira, again, came late and, by her standards, in a poorly planned outfit. Even in her most conservative outfits, most men in her grade got every look they could at her when she wasn't aware. Finally, after settling down and catching her breath, Amira began wondering why the professor acted so strangely. Then she wondered why she felt so uncomfortable sitting down, not pain, but it just seemed so hot that her under...

"Oh no".

She thinks timidly in her head. Amira finally remembered the first ten minutes of her day and began shivering with self-consciousness.

'Shit, how much did he see? Does this dress, no, it must've been something else.'

As these juggled these thoughts along with the assignment, she shyly looks around the classroom. As she rotates quickly to the boys behind her, they all stumble back to their book.

'Were they looking too?! It must be the dress, damn.'

Amira began feeling sick from embarrassment, but as the class went on, she began to control her emotions. 'OK, I only bent down facing the opposite end of the class. Only Mr. Harrison saw me like that, and the perverts behind me couldn't have recorded me at all because Harrison takes the sophomore's phones. Just breathe, Amira'. While she gathered herself temporarily, the sudden realization that almost seven hours remained in the day gave a sudden sense of anxiety to her. She really regrets not doing laundry the night before.

The class finally ended, and Amira nervously walked to her next class. She occasionally jolted a look back to see if anyone was gawking at her behind, but her fears were unfounded.

'OK, at least they shouldn't be able to see through the dress when I'm standing', she thought.

Luckily for her, the next two classes she sat in the back, so they went by without incident. Still, walking at all made her overly aware of how different her undergarments made her tits and ass move. This gave her a mixed feeling of trepidation and amusement. Still, being exposed to anyone, especially any male classmates, was Amira's worst nightmare, especially in such lewd bra and panties.

4th period began, and it was her most dreaded period; machine-shop.

Every student needed to complete a workshop, and in her trademark fashion, Amira waited until senior year to get it over with. So, all she had available was machine-shop, along with a class exclusively made up of boys. This class involved moving around and standing while using machines, something Amira disliked even with her current state of dress. As the class moved at a snail's pace, every minute felt like an hour for her. She picked an isolated lathing machine in the corner to sand her hammerhead for the project. Hopefully, no one would get any views from behind. Unfortunately for Amira, she was clueless when it came to the appliance. It was probably twice her age and she didn't really pay attention when the teacher explained it. She started the machine, and it began ferociously rotating her metal piece.

'Alright, just gotta look busy' Amira nervously thought to herself.

She leaned toward the machine to begin sanding. For the first time since she ran into Mr. Harrison's room, she finally began to ignore her wardrobe predicament. Then, the unthinkable happened. The seldom-worn dress was adequate in length to cover her legs. Likewise, it was the perfect length to reach just into the complicated mechanisms of the running lathing machine. In a split second, the bottom of the dress got caught into the rotating gears and fiercely began pulling it. A tugging, tearing sound began, and Amira could feel the snug dress constrain her curvy body. She squealed as she clasped her hands to the machine, painstakingly too far from the "off" button. The dress was on its last threads, and Amira prayed that the nightmare would just end.

It only just began. The dress finally snapped, and vehemently ripped off her body in one fluid motion, as it ripped into countless shreds in the lathing machine. With her hands glued to the machine still, Amira stood in her big black boots, with her long, silky-smooth legs extending to her sexy lacy panties. Purchased as a joke gift, the light-green Victoria-secret brand underwear, complete small white bow in the front, contorted around Amira's voluptuous backside, fitting almost like a thong. Her matching bra similarly failed to adequately cover her large breasts. To top it off, her beige hijab remained perfectly in place, although at this point all it did was draw more attention to her precarious situation. Forget showing arms or her lower back, now all she had for her modesty was these things and a loose bra that detailed her now protruding dark brown nipples ever so perfectly.

After five seconds of standing in shock-induced paralysis, Amira barely muffled a terrifying scream with her hands. Her mind shot a thousand different thoughts at once, and she began panicking. Amira theoretically had plenty of time to gather her senses and come up with a plan to escape, or at least find cover. In the back of the room with the lathing machines, all of the other students were talking to each other about where the tables are. However, she completely failed to keep her cool. At first, she was frozen in place. Her knees could not stop buckling, her thighs pressing together in utter disbelief and fear. She frantically looked around for something to cover up with, while simultaneously jolting her head to see if anyone was coming near her. At this point, she began crying, still attempting to mute her involuntary gasps.

Hyperventilating at this point, Amira still could not break out of her trance. She desperately shuffled herself towards the emergency door in the back. Millisecond debates went on in her head.

'Open the door? It's the only way out! But the fire alarm will sound, everyone will eventually go outside with me. I don't have my keys; I can't just run home. Fuck!'

Amira abandoned this idea. She could not decide on which direction to go in. The metal shop was huge, which gave her a lot of room to maneuver in, but Amira was in such a discombobulated state, she just desperately maneuvered from point to point, alternating her hands between covering her panties, her chest, and her face. Now, her mind was overloaded with fear and embarrassment, and she was still attempting to think of a way out, or just a way to wake up from this nightmare.

While still deciding, her legs finally felt too much pressure, and she collapsed near the door. Lacking the physical and mental strength to compose herself, Amira desperately crawled to a pallet of metal and curled herself in a ball. If anyone needed something from the pallet, they would easily find the near-naked girl, and Amira knew this too. But her mind was too frazzled and shaken to think straight, now all she could do is remain quiet and start praying.

Amira remained in this position for almost ten minutes, silently crying (at least as quietly as she could). While this would be plenty of time to formulate a plan of escape, Amira's mind was in complete shambles. All she could think about is the inevitable, dreaded moment of getting caught.

'How many people would see her like this? I don't even have my purse, it's in my locker. Fuck, everyone has an HD camera on their phone now, the whole country will see me like this.

Should I just cover my face and run? But my hijab will give me away. Why, why, why God!?'. Praying and wishing for a solution did nothing to help her predicament.

Gradually, she began to at least stop crying and began to take in her surroundings for any sort of solution.

'Okay, breathe, breathe. My phone is on the other side of the room. No one is there, maybe I can sneak over and'.

Before she could finish that thought, in the corner of her eye she saw the teacher walk over to the lathing machine where Amira lost her dress.

"Amira, how is your project going?" The teacher half-heartedly looked around for her, only noticing her phone.

"I guess she went to the bathroom. The period is about to end, though. Ah well, might as well move this before it falls into the machine, these things are dangerous." Monologuing his thoughts, the teacher took the phone and bought it to the front of the room, with the rest of the students who were waiting for the period to end.

Witnessing all this, Amira cursed under her breath. This setback also lit a fire under her (as if her entire body was not red-hot with anxiety and embarrassment). Knowing that the change of period would move people around, she finally concentrated on an alternate exit. She remembered that the machine shop was adjacent to the woodshop and shared a door. Usually, machine-shop and wood-shop would not be going on simultaneously, but she had no way of confirming this. Finally, a freshman began walking towards the back to put away some extra metal. Hearing his coming footsteps, Amira sprung up and began crouching towards the woodshop door.

Hiding behind machines for cover, she clumsily crouched towards the door. Not taking anything to chance, she burst through the door, immediately turning around to slam the door shut. Amira anxiously and slowly turned around to face the woodshop, fearing the worst. Finally, there was some luck, as the class was empty. Amira sighed in relief, but as she stalked through the room looking for something, anything, to cover up with, she glanced into a full-size mirror. At this point, it finally dawned on her how embarrassing she looked. She had begun sweating profusely, so the promiscuous bra and panties set stocked to her body, even more, further exemplifying her curves.

Her boots, glasses, and hijab combo made it even a more ridiculous and erotic sight, her current state of dress was truly contradictory. Amira snapped out of this trance, pushing her anxious thoughts to the back of her mind. Unfortunately for her, this room has nothing to cover up with either, as the room was only full of wood planks, tools, and machines. Suddenly, the bell ran, signaling a transition to the new period. Amira's scream was dampened by the bell, and she again fell and crawled to (poor) cover.

In the next few minutes, no one came, which meant that the wood-shop class did not start yet. While the room could act as a temporary refuge, Amira knew that the fifth period was a transition period, as it was the first lunch period. At most, she would have twenty minutes of peace before the next period occurred, and she absolutely could not stay in this room like this. Seemingly composed, Amira decided to make up a plan to either find clothes or get out of school.

'Okay, okay, calm down. No one saw you yet. You can get out of this.'

She began pacing the room, her tight undergarments reminding her of their presence with every step, she could feel her butt and breasts jiggle.

'The locker room! My gym clothes are there, I can use them. Yes!'

Finally seeing a chance at freedom, she jolted her sight towards the clock. "OK, 15 minutes until the period ends, I can't stay here. It's now or never." With her hand on the doorknob, a multitude of thoughts went through her head. Anyone could be in the halls; kids skipping class, teachers, a group of middle-schoolers getting a tour of the high school. Amira ignored these fears, quickly opened the door, and frantically began running down the hallway.

Immediately after opening the door and stumbling out into the hallway, Amira frantically looked in all directions to see if she was alone. At least for now, she was. However, she realized that she cannot hesitate so much. Time was a factor, and there was basically nowhere to hide anyway. So, she began running towards the general direction of the school gym. While Amira had little trouble with her weight, she had absolutely no athletic ability. Even in perfect conditions, Amira was incapable of running for any prolonged amount of time. At best, she could keep up a light jog for a few minutes, but even this would wind her eventually.

She never was put into situations where she had to sprint, as she never played sports or even practically tried hard in gym class. However, this was far from an ideal circumstance. Due to her state of dress, Amira's heart was pounding profusely, which made it difficult to run. Despite only being in her bra and underwear, the large black boots remained on her feet, making it even more difficult to run. Finally, Amira could not commit herself to run in any fluid motion. She could not help but instinctively use her hands to cover her body in various ways. Her hands went from covering her ass, her vagina, and her breasts in ineffective rotations. She could not help but stretch the back of her panties out, as they were running up her butt because of the running. All of these factors made it difficult for Amira to make efficient progress towards the gym. As she awkwardly ran down the hall, the cackling of her cumbersome, high-heeled boots reflected throughout the hallway, nullifying any sort of stealth Amira had. Halfway down the hallway, she could not help but close her eyes in apprehension.

Once again, the floodgates in her mind opened and a torrent of thoughts swept through her mind.

'This can't be happening this can't be happening! Why did I keep these fucking boots on?! My hijab too, maybe I should just take it off, so I'm not recognized. But then I'll feel more exposed. Shit is there someone behind me?! No, I can't look back, just keep running. I'm about to pass out, but... must... keep going...'.

Despite the war being waged in her head, luck was finally on her side. Despite her poor running, she kept a fast-enough pace to not be seen through any of the classes she ran past. As she navigated the longest hall that led to the gym, Amira miraculously avoided any contact. This could be attributed to the strict attendance policies that were put into place that year; any student seen in the halls during class without a pass would be suspended indefinitely. However, as Amira approached the end of the long hall, she hugged herself against the wall, desperately trying to catch her breath. Peaking around the corner, Amira pondered her next decision. If she continued forward (making a left out of the current hallway she was in), the next hallway offered the most direct route to the gym. If she went down this way, another turn would put her in an adjacent hallway that led directly to the gym entrance, with the girls' locker room on the left of the entrance and the boy's locker room on the right.