It must be around 12.45. I looked at the ship I had left barely a couple of hours ago.
The HMS Barbera Windsor was a frigate class ship on tour around the Med and we docked this morning in Sidi Bel Jam’es as part of our goodwill visit to the Emir’s capital in order to convince his Highness to spend some more money on British exports. We are the Navy’s first all female crew and have established quite a reputation for efficiency.
She sat proudly in the water, her armaments glinting in the sunlight and I wondered how I was going to get back on board unnoticed…
Why the problem… Ya, well I guess I had better explain.
At eleven hundred hours I stepped down the gangplank after saluting the rating on watch, intent on a bit of RNR before the formalities of the evening. I planned on visiting the famous Sidi Bel Jam’es Abba Souk where I was told to look out for an old Spanish merchant named Fernando who did a fabulous line in native silks.
I have to say I looked fantastic in my Navy white tropical dress uniform as I strode through the harbour to the Souk, Lieutenant Christina Tate, my rank stripes proudly displayed on my shoulder would make my Mamma Mia*, Proud! I had been with “Babs” as we girls called her since leaving the UK and this was the first chance I had had to step out and get some brief time ashore.
The Souk was only 15 minutes away from the harbour and in I dived down Chicitica plaza a complete Souky Virgin! The entrance was typical tourist fair. Same old shops the world over: Salvadore Fergamo, Gukki, Versnatch, Herpes you know the sort. Boring Boring Boring, and although I could afford it with Daddy’s credit card It was not the thrill I was after… I wanted Local. I approached a good looking local security guard who pointed me down a side mall from which echoed the most inviting sounds and a hint of spice in the air.
“Just be a little careful,” he said “some people can be a bit liberal with others property down there”
“Thanks!” I breezed back. ‘I’m an officer in the Royal Navy’, I thought ‘Not some dim tourist.’ When in reality I was just that.
I opened the door into the narrow old covered laneways of the Souk the intoxicating sounds and smells of a thousand years of retail therapy hit me full square in the face… this was what I came here for! Instead of the spartan western style of faceless malls this was living and breathing shopping!
I started to explore, getting used to the crowded space and noise. snatches of French from the old colonial times and Arabic assaulting my ears, rich heady perfumes of spices, oils and flowers leading my nose. As I was moved from one timeless tableaux to the next I had to keep back a little as I could not afford to get marks on my pristine white uniform but human contact was inevitable here and one got used to the jostling, bumping and the press… It was a bit like playing Hockey at Cheltenham really or Black Friday at Harrods!
Well I had fought my way through one crowd and had been admiring some spices when I noticed the vendor had a job keeping an eye on my face and kept staring at my chest I looked at him puzzled and he turned away muttering. I looked down to check that no cardamom had got onto my uniform when I noticed my blouse was completely undone and was coming untucked!
(*Her real name is Miasma, that used to cause Grampa to roll about on the floor laughing, the mean old poo.)
I was flashing the poor man with a feminine broadside locked and loaded in their lacy hammocks! Can you imagine my embarrassment!
Quickly I apologised, did up my blouse and tucked it back into my skirt under my service belt! How could I do such a thing! I dove back into the crowd to give the poor man some space… I was quite flustered and felt at that moment one of my garter straps coming undone and pinging up my leg. Dammit!
I swam through the throng and found a small still backwater nook to check myself out. My blouse had partially come undone again and my holdup stocking was now about my knee. As discretely as possible I put my uniform straight and re-secured my stocking.
I normally wear just holdups, but certain conditions dictate that the sticky bands need the backup of a garter belt to ensure they remain compliant. Belt’n Braces my Uncle Ken would say if he accidentally burst in on me getting dressed. Happens all the time since I turned 18 as he always confuses my bedroom for the bathroom! The Silly! The bathroom is the other side of the landing and he’s been visiting for about 5 years! I call him my Uncle but really he was a friend of Mums who pops round a fair bit when daddy is away on business. Sometimes I would see him come out of Mumsy’s bedroom “Stupid old clot!” He would say “Wrong bathroom again!” He buys me the loveliest lingerie in just my size bless him! I have a set on today! White lace and silk matching bra thong and garter belt, so comfy and cool.
I once again was restored to looking like the model of efficiency I should be and re-entered the market and once again the sights and sounds of the Souk carried me away. I paused before a stall where a man was sat on the ground selling carpet. As he patted the carpet he demonstrated the weave and the quality of the fibres how it was worth all the Money, Money, Money. Then something caught his eye, he looked at my feet then I could see his eyes travel up my legs towards my belt and then his mouth fell open. I wondered what he was looking at? Did I have some dirt on my skirt? I looked down… My Skirt! It was pooled around my feet he was staring at my panties! What made it even worse was my panties had dropped down a bit somehow and were showing a few swirls of my neatly trimmed hair!
I immediately did the knees together act of the embarrassed, yanked up my panties and skirt and rushed into the throng! How could this be happening?! I clutched tight to my skirt trying in vain to do up the zip, the throng of shoppers was so thick I could barely move! I was carried along with the crowd.
Suddenly I felt a hand on my skirt playing with my garter straps on my left leg! Both came undone! I tried to move but I was having to hold my skirt in place. Then the hands undid my other garter straps! I then felt a hand expertly roll my holdup down my leg! All this whilst the crowd surged and moved about me the pressure of numbers never relenting!
Gently my foot was lifted and my shoe and stocking removed I tried to move my hand to stop the thief but only succeeded in allowing my skirt to fall to my hip! The hands progressed to the other leg and soon both my legs were naked and my shoes gone!
I noticed in all this battle that my blouse had come undone again! I reached up to pull the two sides together when with a rush my skirt vanished down my legs! I was forced by the movement of the crowd to step out of it and away it went…
I was being systematically robbed of my clothes Item by item!
My belt had vanished and I could feel my garter belt being unclipped and taken as the straps pinged as they were pulled out of my panties, the one hand I could spare to defend my possessions whilst the other protected my décolletage proving totally inadequate!
The unseen hands were expert at pulling and unbuttoning judging by the faint glimpses they were female… as soon as I did my blouse up it would be undone, if I defended my blouse with both hands my panties would come under assault!
Soon my blouse was only on one shoulder and my panties were around my hips! I reached to yank up my panties and my blouse was carried away.
I was down to my bra and panties and the thief had these under constant assault. My bra was undone and my panties pulled down to my knees… soon I was fighting to keep them in contact with my hands let alone on my body then with a final tug they were gone! I had been robbed of everything except my hat!
Then my body came under attack! I was defenceless as hands leapt out and touched and groped, held and explored my flesh, hands touched me lightly and softly over every inch of my body… I felt my own hands try to protect my pussie only to succumb to the sexual feeling of the soft caressing and the arousal the public nudity I was enduring! I needed an S.O.S. but with shame I report that I worked my pleasure zone until came. More explosively than I had ever done before. Waves of pleasure washing down and through my body…
The crowd parted and my naked form was left behind in an empty street the hustle and bustle of the souk gone as if it never existed.
I was naked. Exhausted. My hat on my head like some sad memorial to the figure of excellence I was expected to be! Finally facing my Waterloo, I was a disgrace to what little uniform I had left. If I could have changed my mind, I would have been first in line. But I thought ‘You know honey your still free, take a chance on me’.
I explored my immediate area the best I could and discovered I was around the back of the Abba Souks more upmarket shops near the service entrance. Using an old coat hanger I forced the lock and slipped inside.
I have a dream, I could find my way out and back onto the ship.
Covering myself as well as I could I snuck into the back of Gukki. Somehow I managed to sneak through to near the front door behind a rail of dresses. You may ask why did you not take some of the clothes? Well at first when I was in the stock room I thought ‘Gimme Gimme Gimme!’ but as I held the fine silk against my bosom I could hear my father scolding me, “Does your Mother Know?”. I did not want to bring the shame of petty theft on my ship as well as me being naked.
At that moment I had my hand on a dress in the rail when the rail was suddenly moved away I let out a small shriek and looked a sales assistant straight in the eye! She looked at the dress and said “Voulez vous?” I looked at her let out a small noise thrust the dress into her hands and covering myself as best as possible ran from the shop.
Straight into the arms of the security guard who had helped me earlier! I fought him off and ran like a mad thing out of the mall with him running behind me yelling “Mademoiselle! Stop please!”
What a sight. A naked woman wearing a Royal Navy officers hat running put of a mall pursued by an arabic security guard, quite a handsome security guard now I think of it!
I gave him the slip and ended up here on the docks hiding behind this crate wondering how I am ever going to get back on board past the guard, who I happen to know is a petty officer called Hanna Fremont.
Suddenly I saw the security guard from the Abba Souk walking towards Hanna. Thats the name of the game is it… He is going to dob me in…
As he was talking to Hannah he looked straight at me! My heart leapt into my mouth! Then he winked at me! He pointed out something to Hanna and made her look away, he turned to the same direction and frantically waved his hand indicating I should move it! He was a real super trooper! What a gentleman!
I ran across the dock and up the gangplank as quickly as possible rushing into my quarters. I put on some underwear and found my spare uniform. My shame was averted due to the gallant actions of that handsome guard. But I could not help but relive the moments of shame as I was expertly robbed… my fingers once again explored those feelings in full and i was quite flushed at the function that evening.
I met the guard the following day to say thank you. For the second day running I ended up out of uniform… though this time on purpose…