About 4 years ago, I was attending college and, because I lived off-campus, I used to cycle in each day to attend the lectures. This particular day, immediately after the lecture, I had to go to work at the offices.

Anyway, I got dressed in my smart clothes as opposed to casuals. Now, I've always worn stockings and suspenders and I thought nothing of changing this habit, even to cycle to college. The skirt was a grey-pleated circle type and was belted at the waist and the hem was a good 6 inches above the knee.

I knew that I'd be able to wear this modestly as I had already done so in the past. The ride on the pushbike, however, may require some concentration to ensure the stocking tops stayed covered.

Then, for the finishing touch, I slipped on my black high heels that I love. They've only got a 3-inch heel, so they're not too high, but they're so elegant.

Walking to the bike, I noticed that we'd had some rain, but the day was dry and fine now. I unlocked the bike and climbed on.

The skirt flared out as I sat down on the saddle and, with only my panties between me and it, I set off and made good progress. The skirt flapped a few times but I quickly beat it down. I then became aware of a rather unpleasant wet feeling across my bottom and stopped to investigate.

Climbing off the bike, I discovered the reason: the fabric of the saddle had soaked up the rainwater and now thoroughly soaked my panties. The sensation was far from pleasant, to say the least!

I then made a snap decision. I checked around me, then quickly hiked up my skirt, grasped my panties and pulled them down with a quick wriggle and a dainty step. I was now out of the wet panties.

It was too late to head home to replace them, and so I thought of a way to dry them. I looped them over the rear light on the back of the bike to blow dry in the breeze as I rode along.

Sitting on the cold damp saddle was not as bad as I thought it would be, and soon I was on the road again but paying more attention to my fly-away hemline than ever before. Soon, I arrived at the college and went to the bike sheds to secure the bike and retrieve my hopefully now dry panties.

Parking up I was careful how I dismounted and turned to collect the panties and then my heart stopped. They were gone!!

I looked around to search for them, but they were not nearby. I looked up the road and the route I'd taken to get here, but they were not to be seen.

I was by now in a bit of a panic. My heart was beating a heavy thud and I could feel myself wanting to whimper. All I kept thinking was how I could spend the day doing all the things I needed to do with only a tiny area of skirt to cover my modesty.

You men out there cannot really appreciate how vulnerable I felt at this moment. The closest thing to this would be to only be wearing a bath towel around your waist in church!

I checked the time, and it was getting late, and so I decided to bluff my way through the day and hope that nothing dramatic happened. (HA!)

I arrived at the offices where I worked part-time and soon got into the routine of the afternoons, typing and filing, then the department head came in and asked me to help him rearrange some old files in the archive room. I said yes and off we went.

The archive room was part of the old library and so it had high shelves that could only be reached by ladder and so, realising it was too late for me to back out, I followed, with mounting nervousness.

I felt every movement of the cloth of the skirt as it brushed across my buttocks and the way the elastic of my suspenders pulled with each step I took, and I realised again just how naked I felt and that this short skirt was actually just a few inches of flimsy cloth, and it was all I had to cover myself with.

We arrived at the archive room, and he instructed us on what we had to do. He would call out certain files from his list and I would then fetch and pass them to him. It seemed easy enough, and we began the job. He was at a desk checking the files, with me running around getting them and assisting with the checking.

All was going well until I was required to climb up the ladder (the rungs of which were about 18 inches apart) and collect files.

It then felt as if the length of my skirt got 6 inches shorter.

I checked to see if he was noticing me, and he wasn't but was concentrating on the files, so I climbed up quickly, flashing plenty of leg and stocking top, I'm sure. I searched for the file and was down again like a shot. This practice followed for some time, then he asked for a file on the shelf above his desk about 10 feet above the floor.

I gulped and walked over to him. The clicking of my heels was the only sound I could hear above the thudding of my heart.

I stood beside his desk with the ladder and positioned it as far from him as I could, so I wouldn't be directly over him. Then, with trembling hands, I slowly climbed the ladder. I felt so exposed, you could not begin to know. As I raised one foot, then the other to each rung, the betraying skirt fell away, exposing acres of bare leg above stocking top. I reached the top and looked for the file, not wanting to speak or make a sound to attract his attention and so make him look up at me.

I saw the file. Reaching for it required me to lean further than I wanted to, but I wasn't about to get down and move the ladder closer. I leaned, then leaned some more, then I felt the ladder slipping. The time at this point seemed to go so slowly, I bit back a squeal and held on tighter to the shelf and held on and, with my eyes tightly closed, waited for the crash of the ladder as it hit the floor. It was deafening!! The manager must have jumped out of his skin.

I, meanwhile, was hanging onto the shelf 10 feet up with my feet trying to find a toehold, praying that this wasn't real but just a bad dream. I could only imagine the sight of me clinging to a huge bookcase, my legs spread wide with the toeholds I'd found and with a perfect view up my skirt to be able to see up my stocking-clad legs and then past them to my pantieless crotch. I think I could have easily died of embarrassment right there and then.

The office manager came to his senses after the initial shock and called up to me to ask if I was all right.

I could tell from the catch in his voice that he'd seen me in all my glory up there, and so he proceeded to guide me down the bookcase, holding onto my ankles and placing them in good footholds.

I felt his touch on my legs get higher and higher until he was holding my thighs my skirt had ridden up, and my bare bottom was now level with his face. What a sight that must have been, an embarrassed girl's naked bottom 6 inches from your face. He must have seen every detail of me below the waist, from black stockinged ankle up my calves past my knees along my thighs up between my legs, everything!!

I climbed off the shelves onto the floor, not meeting his eyes. I then smoothed my skirt down and, with a muffled thanks, I fled the room. I ran back to my office, collected my things, then left to get my bicycle and go home.