“So what happens now?” I asked, keenly aware that I was arm-in-arm with a solidly-filled shirt sleeve that had no arm in it. The shirt itself was open, too, but the shirt moved as if a busty and otherwise topless invisible woman was wearing it. I could feel the unseen torso pressing the shirt against my right arm.

“Well,” Sharifa said, “the council that’s supposed to be in charge of taking over the Feminalia project… the members are not on the same page about what to do next. I honestly don’t know what they’ve officially decided to do with you but I’m going to make sure no harm comes to you. I think your new friend there feels the same way.”

The sleeve wrapped around my right arm withdrew and put itself around my back, as the other sleeve wrapped around me from the front. The empty shirt was hugging me… except, of course, it wasn’t exactly empty. Everywhere the shirt made contact on my right side, there was resistance of an unseen body, but when I reached toward the inside of the shirt, there was nothing there.

I heard plastic rustling behind us, I turned to see a partially filled grey heather sports bra hovering toward the empty shirt. I expected the shirt to move its sleeves to give the bra room to slip under the shirt, but instead it floated up toward my face, taking a fuller and more defined form as it approached.

“Uh, hello?” I said, unsure of what was about to happen. Sharifa chuckled while the shirt shook with silent laughter. The bra slowly dragged a cup against the right side of my face, right next to the shirt. Then it turned slightly and brushed its other cup against my cheek. I wanted to reach for it, but the shirt sleeves clasped around me held my left arm at my side and, open or not, the shirt’s extreme curves left my right arm in an awkward position to try to respond to the bra.

“Um, can you let me use my arm?” I said, looking down into the shirt. It withdrew its sleeves, instead clasping my right hand in a glove. I moved my other hand up to the bra, brushing its cups with my fingers. It began a slight jiggling motion, and when I kissed it I could see nipple shapes against both cups.

“I hate to interrupt,” Sharifa said, “but there’s a lot going on outside, and all around us. You two can pick up where you left off later on, though.”

The bra sagged for a moment, in a physical facsimile of a pout, before the shirt’s sides spread apart, letting the bra hover into position. As the shirt began buttoning itself, its gloves hovered away from the sleeves, one caressing my cheek while the other began playing with my opposite ear.  As Sharifa led us to the elevator and the outside world, I reached for the sleeve nearer to me, sure I’d find an unseen hand. I wasn’t disappointed, as unseen fingers intertwined with mine.

While Sharifa had to leave at the ground floor to address the crowd and resume her responsibilities, one of her deputies -- an outfit that consisted of an olive-green military-style jacket, tightly-filled green camo t-shirt, equally form-fitting green pants, and black boots -- led us to a waiting car a few stories underground. I noticed the black leather bag hovering just below the ends of one of the outfit’s sleeves.

“Um, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful or anything, after all you’ve done to keep anything really bad from happening to me,” I said, finding myself unable to look anywhere but at the busty camo shirt’s chest when we reached our destination. “But when I was grabbed at the beginning of -- well, of all this -- I was just picking up a shirt for a job interview. I don’t even know how long I’ve been here, but I know I can’t get that job now. It would have been a nice job, too. I never even got the shirt for the interview. So… is there any way I can get some kind of, i don’t know, compensation?”

The outfit didn’t answer right away. I felt like I was being sized up. And really awkward about staring so hard at the shirt’s chest just a few moments before. Finally the outfit spoke.

“You’re asking about compensation? Really?!” The tone was matter-of-fact, but I could help feeling I’d just ticked someone off. “Tell me, hon, you intend to leave with our new friend, don’t you?”

I thought it was odd she was referring to the curvy outfit next to me as “our new friend”... until I realized she was talking to the outfit -- I was the new friend. The gloves each floated just into my field of vision and each gave an emphatic thumbs-up. Meanwhile the shirt leaned closer, and invisible lips pecked me on the cheek. 

“Really?” I said, turning toward the shirt. Up until then the outfit had never spoken or shown evidence of anything like a face. But then the shirt moved closer again, and this time the unseen lips caught my lips. Of course, I kissed back.

There was a throat-clearing sound from the military outfit, as the voice continued. “So tell me,” she said, “can you think of anywhere you can find yourself something or some-one like this?”

“No, I can’t,” I said, my mind spinning from the implications. But… 

I turned back to the curvy shirt. “You want to come with me?” The collar nodded as the gloves gave two more thumbs-up. “But… I have no idea how all this is possible.” Then, turning back to the green outfit, “How -- how?” I couldn’t come up with any more words.

“Well, if you recall, you came in here with a cell phone. Most civilians who come in here without clearance do not get their gadgets back. But your phone now has new technology, way beyond apps or even an operating system. You’ll learn more as things... develop. And to be honest, that’s just a backup. It might not ever become necessary. But to get back to your original question of compensation, let’s just say you won’t have to work at a mundane job again -- unless you want to.”

“I still don’t really understand,” I said. These clothes and gadgets had just upended my understanding of reality. What did she mean, I’d never have to work again?

The  military outfit's voice sighed. “I can see you’re gonna be full of questions, and this will all be a lot to get used to. And I’m pretty sure your empty friend there, for all her expressiveness, is either unable to speak or has no intention to.” The floating gloves gave two rather unenthusiastic thumbs up, giving me the impression the outfit wasn’t happy about not being able to speak. 

The military outfit continued. “So… maybe I could go with you guys and stay a little while, just so you get used to things a bit. Is that OK with you?” The outfit pointed at the shirt and leggings. One glove made an OK sign. “And I know it’s OK with you, fella, based on how you stare at my chest whenever one of us speaks to the other.”

“Um well,” I interjected, suddenly feeling warm and like I was the center of attention, though there wasn’t anyone around that I knew of except these two outfits and myself. “You don’t have a face for me to look at and, um, your combination of features of kind of attention-grabbing, you know?”

“Yes, I actually do know,” the voice answered with a giggle. “Some human military types tend to believe that a female figure wrapped tightly in camouflage patterns or military uniforms projects the idea that -- and remember this is a male perspective -- ‘even the women here are tough.’ It tends to make civilian leaders uneasy when they see… well, when they see us. I was supposed to be Sharifa’s liaison when dealing with solid males but, since I’m going with you guys, I’ll wake up the inerts that were going with you and send them out to Sharifa instead.”

The bag that had been floating alongside the military outfit snapped open, and clothing items somewhat similar to the first outfit hovered out and filled themselves out to similar contours. Once the items had assembled themselves into an outfit, it turned and saluted the first outfit.

“You don’t really have to do that, hon, we’re not doing things quite that way anymore. I appreciate the regard though.” The second outfit broke the salute. “Now go upstairs to Sharifa. She’ll be expecting one of us to report back to her.” The second outfit motioned toward the leather bag, which snapped itself shut. “Take that back up with you. I don’t think I’ll need it.”

So… I left home one day to buy a shirt, was gone a few days and saw reality upended in the meantime, and got sent home accompanied by two curvy but empty outfits of women's clothing. A weird ending and I guess a new beginning, but I could get used to it… I guess...