Edith was part of the back-to-office team as society started to reopen. She was responsible for cleaning it up after two years of absence, and sorting through the associated paperwork. She also partook in Zoom meetings, being one of the few meeting attendees in the physical office while the company figured out its return procedures.

One day she was tasked with photocopying credit use authorizations for record-keeping purposes. She had done this many times before, and was thoroughly bored of it. So she had a devilish thought in her head…

She saw on TV many scenes of a character photocopying their rump, so why not have some fun half an hour before the day’s Zoom meeting? She whisked off her khaki skirt and white panties; for the hell of it, she decided to also dispense with her garter belt. She placed her items on a desk next to the photocopier room’s door, pushed her slip outside of her posterior’s way, and photocopied her rear. She saw the results and felt amazing and devilish.

A further thought etched into her mind. No, this would be too far. Or would it? She always noted how women were supposed to get topless anyways for their mammograms – lucky doctors – so why not here while she was at it? In a bit of a manic state, she whisked off her black sweater and threw it on the desk. Her slip and bra soon joined them, and Edith soon had her very own photocopier mammogram. She admired her … work with a smirk, but realized that she had to photocopy those authorizations straightaway. After doing that in the refreshing nude (well, save her stockings and heels), she turned around to get dressed and faced an empty desk.

Suffice it to say that she was not especially thrilled at this development. She cursed her stupidity, but found that nothing could be done now – the Zoom meeting was in ten minutes, and she had to go to her desk! Luckily no one saw her, although with only two men in the office besides her it should not have been too surprising.

The Zoom meeting started; it was corporate culture that everyone’s cameras would be on at all times, but this clearly would not do in Edith’s current position. The meeting proceeded without incident for the first ten minutes, but one of the online attendees noted that Edith’s video was not turned on.

“Yes, my apologies. My camera appears to be malfunctioning,” she explained to the meeting.

“Indeed it is; I’ve talked to IT about it, and they’ll get it fixed later today” replied Mark, one of the two guys also in the office, with the biggest shit-eating grin of his life. In the corner of his screen, Edith could see her clothes on top of his filing cabinet!

After the meeting was over, Edith stormed off to Mark’s office and asked “Mark, would you happen to have seen a beige skirt and black sweater?”

“Perhaps, who wants to know?”

“Cut it out, Mark, I see my clothes on the filing cabinet over there.”

“Oh, do you?” Mark said with a grin.

“Yes, I do. Now give me back my clothes, please,” Edith remarked with a cynical emphasis on the final “please”.

“Why do you want them?”

Edith was taken aback at this question. “Because I am currently taking ‘casual Friday’ too far, especially on a Wednesday,” she replied trying to be clever and avoiding the obvious.

“I like you, Edith. I’ve done this before, way back in the days before Zoom and teleconferencing. Back in the 90’s – I think? – I caught Ethel shredding in a hot room in a wardrobe-compromised state. She thought she was alone and went to the bathroom, so I did the honors of putting her sundress in the shredder; she was so embarrassed to be seen in just her panties when she got out; lucky for her they were too thick for the shredder.”

Edith didn’t know what to make of this. “Ummm, okay.”

“I’ll give you your clothes, but only if you really want them. The security cameras are turned off for the sorting out, so this can be our little secret, and you’re not in any rush to cover up,” noted Mark while Edith was loosely covering her triangle of hair with her hands and not doing anything for her bosom.

Edith was taken aback by this statement and revelation. Mulling it over for a bit, she decided, with less confidence than what she would have liked, “yes, Mark, I would like my clothes. They are my property, and I would like them back, if only because I don’t want you having them.”

“Alright then, here you go,” Mark conceded, and handed over the garments to Edith. Edith had to stop and sift through the pile, but luckily all of her garments were there and Mark wasn’t stiffing her.

“Thank you,” Edith said correctly and curtly, and returned to her office.

She placed her clothes on her desk and started debating how much, if any, of her clothes she felt like re-donning. If we didn’t already have clothes, she wondered, would we invent them? In any event, she was largely done for the day except for a lunch break that she could but needn’t leave the office for; surely she needed clothes for that if she left. She waited for a bit and mulled it over some more before making her decision.