After a few hours of walking, the trees of the forest cleared, and Lisa and Lady Annabelle reached a well-kept yard behind a large house built in gothic style. The yard was replete with trees and flowers, with a small vegetable garden in one corner, and a swimming pool near the back of the house.
“Stop,” said Lady Annabelle, when Lisa was a few paces from the house’s back entrance. “You can’t go inside like that.”
A puzzled expression crossed Lisa’s countenance. Like what? Naked? Well, she wouldn’t have to if this witch hadn’t cursed her, would she?
“You’re filthy,” said Annabelle.
Lisa looked down at her body. She’d accumulated mud and grass during her march. Though not as filthy as she’d been that morning, she was still far from clean. Her feet were especially dirty, not least because Annabelle had forced her to march in a totally straight line, stepping in everything on her way.
Annabelle uncoiled a hose from a hook on the wall and turned it on. “Take a few steps back,” she ordered Lisa.
Lisa complied, and instantly got a face full of high-pressure water.
“Can’t have you tracking mud all over my floors!” shouted Annabelle, maneuvering the hose.
The strong jet of water blasted the dirt off Lisa’s breasts, then her legs, then her feet. Annabelle shouted for her to turn around, and then she felt the jet against her back, and then on her bottom. All the positive feelings that she’d had from her cleanse were gone now, and she was an animal again, being hosed off in the yard.
“Bend over, and spread,” commanded Annabelle.
Lisa did as she was told, robotically, without thinking. Annabelle aimed the jet of water directly at her crotch, and held it there. Then she started moving it, slowly up and down. Lisa let out an involuntary moan.
The water stopped.
“That should do it,” Annabelle said, walking around to admire Lisa’s flustered, blushing expression. “We wouldn’t want you to get too excited, would we? We’d just have to clean up again.”
Lisa pulled herself upright and brought her legs back together, avoiding eye contact with the witch. Annabelle walked to the back door, rummaged around in the front of her dress, and pulled out a set of keys. But before she opened the door, she seemed to realize something.
“Silly me!” she said, slapping her forehead in an exaggerated manner. “I completely forgot about dinner tonight!”
Lisa looked up at her with horror. She mouthed the question, “Dinner?” but no sound came out. Her voice had not returned.
“Yes, I am hosting a dinner party tonight with some dear friends, and I haven’t even started on the preparations!” Annabelle explained. “How lucky I am to have some help. First, we need to do some shopping.”
Annabelle took Lisa by the hand and led her around the side of the house, to the front. The area had a rural feel, but it was still very much a suburb, with a road and rows of houses on the other side. A car drove by, and Lisa dove behind Annabelle, twisting her arm.
“What are you doing?!” shrieked Annabelle, her face red with rage. Her grip tightened around Lisa’s hand, and she yanked the girl forward with unholy strength. “We are going to walk to the shop now. You will come as you are. You will not run or hide.”
Lisa looked up at her with wide, pleading eyes. This couldn’t possibly be happening! There was no way that she could go out naked in public, in the middle of the day, to a busy shop! She knew that Annabelle delighted in torturing her, but surely this wouldn’t be allowed? Someone would see something, say something, do something!
“They made public nudity legal a few months ago, you know,” said Annabelle.
Angela had told Lisa the same thing. It wasn’t encouraging.
“Of course, lewd behavior is still frowned up. But we’ll keep you away from any hosepipes.”
“Come along now,” said Annabelle, dragging Lisa forward by a very unwilling hand. “No covering up with your other arm, now, it will just draw more attention. Yes, that’s good, keep it at your side.”
With a sick feeling in her stomach, Lisa marched forward side-by-side with Lady Annabelle, her hand still held firm by the witch. Across the road, a man had stopped walking and was staring at her. She studiously avoided eye contact. Add one to the ever-growing list of people who’d seen her naked. In broad daylight. Without a mask.
Lisa tilted her head forward and shook it, trying to get some of her hair to cover her face. It wasn’t long enough for the Lady Godiva look, but at least she could try to use it as a mask.
The supermarket was in a small strip mall just around the corner of the road. The asphalt felt hot against Lisa’s soles as the witch pulled her unwillingly across the car park. She heard a few cars stall as she passed. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead.
The mall was not extremely busy, but there were enough people milling about that Lisa soon stopped trying to keep track of how many had seen her. Heads turned as she passed, and people whispered to each other. Lisa heard a few low whistles. The witch’s stern gaze and imposing presence seemed to prevent anyone from coming too close, or cat-calling Lisa too brazenly.
In front of the supermarket, the witch released Lisa’s hand. “Fetch a trolley, girl,” she said.
Lisa stood frozen on the spot. Without the witch physically pulling her forward, she couldn’t move. All eyes were on her, with facial expressions ranging from overjoyed to disgusted. An old lady gave her the evil eye as she walked out of the grocery store, and Lisa wanted to curl up into a ball and disappear.
“Trolley! Now!” hissed the witch.
Fear of Annabelle’s temper snapped Lisa into action. With leaden feet, she walked over to the line of trolleys and pulled one out. She slowly wheeled it back to Annabelle, who was busy speaking with a man in the supermarket’s uniform.
“Look, I believe you about the law, ma’am, but this is a private business. We have a very strict policy: no shirt, no shoes, no service.” He glanced at Lisa sympathetically, doing his best to look her in the eyes. “You’ll have to shop someplace else.”
Lisa’s lips turned up in a small smile. She’d been right after all, no shop would let her walk around inside naked.
Annabelle glared at the man. “Don’t you think my daughter has been through enough?” she said, putting an arm around Lisa’s shoulder. “Life is hard for people like her, and this kind of discrimination only makes it worse.”
Lisa let out a squeal as the witch pinched the back of her shoulder, long nails digging into the skin.
“Look now, you’ve upset her!” cried Annabelle.
The man glanced at Lisa briefly, then quickly averted his eyes. He said nothing.
“All my precious daughter wants is to help Mommy out with the shopping, and you would deny that to her? Just for showing a little skin?”
The man allowed himself a longer look at Lisa. “Well, I wouldn’t call that a just a little skin… look, maybe I could lend her my jacket…”
Lisa’s heart leaped for joy. The man’s jacket looked large and warm, and would cover her nicely, maybe even down to the knees! She tried to accept the man’s offer, but remembered that she couldn’t speak.
Annabelle’s eyes widened in mock horror. “Ix-nay on the othes-clay!” she hissed at the man. Then, in a lower voice, she said, “Lisa’s vestiphobia is quite severe. Even the suggestion could set her off. That’s why I usually leave her at home. But the psychologist said she’s got to start living a normal life.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but our store policy—”
“Your store policy discriminates against the mentally unwell! We’re going to march right back home and launch a social media campaign against this kind of ignorance and discrimination. And you’ll be hearing from my lawyer.”
A battle raged across the man’s countenance. Eventually, he couldn’t help but wither under the steel gaze of Lady Annabelle. “Okay, fine, come on in.”
Instantly, Annabelle was all smiles. “Did you hear that Lisa, the kind man changed his mind! Give him a smile, would you?”
Lisa grinned painfully at the man, holding uncomfortable eye contact with him. Then Annabelle led her forward, wheeling the trolley. The man’s head turned to glance down as she passed him.
Goosebumps formed on Lisa’s flesh as followed Annabelle into the frozen goods aisle, and her nipples hardened. She stood in the cold, hands tightly gripping the trolley, as Annabelle took her time picking out frozen meats and vegetables for her dinner. Lisa had a sneaking suspicion that she would be required to cook the dinner. But maybe she would die of embarrassment first.
A group of three young women passed by, giggling and pointing at her. Then a couple walked by, the woman glaring at Lisa while holding her hand in front of the man’s eyes. An old man stood at one end of the aisle and just looked at her for a while.
Lisa kept her eyes on the ground. Her hair was all over her face, which she normally hated, but now she strived to keep it there. The old man pulled out his phone and snapped a picture, and she knew that others had done the same. Their pictures would be much better than the poorly lit ones of her wearing the owl mask.
Annabelle dragged Lisa through every aisle, filling her trolley with everything that was required for the evening’s dinner, as well as everything that wasn’t. She took her time choosing between brands and going back and forth between the aisles, clearly savoring Lisa’s humiliation.
Lisa wasn’t sure what was worse—walking with the trolley, which invariably summoned a horde of followers to watch her hips sway, or standing still with it, which invariably summoned a horde of surreptitious photographers, who captured her from every angle.
But at least they weren’t asking for selfies with her. Between her downcast expression and Annabelle’s intimidating aura, nobody tried to get too close to them. The store’s staff appeared to have been briefed, and would look the other way as she walked past.
After what felt like hours, Annabelle announced that she’d picked up everything she needed and directed Lisa to push the trolley towards a cashier. The eyes of every man in the store appeared to be laser-focused on her rhythmically ally moving ass as she strolled past them.
She stopped her trolley behind a dark-haired woman who appeared to be a similar age to Lady Annabelle. The woman looked the pair of them quizzically. “Your daughter?” she asked Annabelle.
“Yes,” replied the witch.
The woman smiled. “My daughter also went through a nudist phase. I remember having to walk her through the shop like that a few times. She was quite a lot younger, though.”
Lisa’s blush deepened.
“Lisa’s a special girl,” said Lady Annabelle, emphasizing the word “special”. “We all do things at our own pace.”
“Oh, of course,” said the woman, appearing anxious not to offend. “She does seem… embarrassed, though.”
Annabelle glanced at Lisa, and then back to the woman. “Yes, you’re right!” Annabelle shrieked, cackling with delight. “How wonderful!”
The dark-haired woman stood speechless.
“The treatment must be working,” Annabelle clarified, leaning in conspiratorially. “I was skeptical at first, you know, it seemed a bit cruel. But I suppose this is just what she needed.” She placed a mock-sympathetic hand on Lisa’s shoulder. “Lisa, dear, when we get home, we’re going to play dress-up, okay?”
Lisa felt like her whole body was blushing. She was too embarrassed to look up at either of the women, or to do anything but stand motionless, looking down at her toes.
The dark-haired woman paid for her groceries. “Good luck getting pants on her, I know the struggle.”
“Thank you,” said Annabelle, as the dark-haired woman departed.
Lisa unloaded the contents of their trolley, trying not the feel the eyes on her back every time she bent over it. The teller was a sour-faced old woman who glared at her darkly while exchanging monosyllables with Lady Annabelle.
Lisa then had to take the bags from the nervous 18-year-old bagboy, whose packing was greatly delayed by the sight of her chest. She smiled at him weakly as she took the bags from his shaking hands. He seemed almost as embarrassed as she was.
With heavy bags in both hands, there was no way for Lisa to even attempt to cover up. She walked with Annabelle to the exit and left the store, much to the disappointment of many of the clientele.
“Do you think it’s an ad or something?”
“I didn’t see any cameras!”
“Oh boy, if I was twenty years younger, I’d—”
“Absolutely shameless, the youth of today. I know they’re making clothes skimpier these days, but that’s just ridiculous.”
* * *
The rest of the day was spent preparing dinner. Lisa did all the work, cutting vegetables, preparing meat, slaving over a hot stove while Lady Annabelle criticized her. When dinner was finally ready, it was almost time for Annabelle’s guests to arrive.
Annabelle looked Lisa up and down and clicked her tongue. “We need to get you dressed up for waitress duty,” she said.
Dressed up? Was Annabelle going to give her clothes to wear? Perhaps as way of torturing her? What should she do? If she used her mental trick to put them on and keep them on, Annabelle might figure out what she was doing and alter the curse. But if she didn’t, how could she wear anything? She certainly wouldn’t be in any state to act as a waitress.
“But first, a bath!”
The room that Lisa had been given to stay in was small and sparsely furnished, containing only a mattress and a large iron tub. Annabelle snapped her fingers and said a few words, and the tub was instantly filled with water. “Hop in,” she said, in a somewhat out of breath gasp.
Lisa did as she was told, the hot water making her skin tingle.
Annabelle leaned over the tub, supporting herself on with a hand on the rim. Breathing hard, she handed Lisa a bar of soap and instructed her to scrub like her life depended on it. “Because it does.”
If she counted the hosepipe in the back yard, this was Lisa’s third cleanse in one day. But after walking around town and then cooking a large meal without so much as an apron, Lisa needed it.
Annabelle stepped back from the tub and stood with her hands on her hips. It was weird being watched in bathtub, but between the water and the soap suds, she actually felt less naked than usual. A brief fantasy crossed her mind, of Annabelle giving her a ragged old dress to wear after she got out of the bath, and of her being able to wear it.
But there was to be no dress. Once Lisa’s bath was done, Annabelle made her stand and drip dry in the middle of room, carefully inspecting every inch of her body for missed spots. Fortunately, she couldn’t find any.
Lisa then blow-dried her hair, and was given some clips and instructed to put it up. Lady Annabelle then applied a coat of makeup to Lisa’s face and sprayed some perfume on her body. “Now for the outfit,” she said.
Lisa gulped. Maybe she would get that dress after all? Perhaps it would be just another way of torturing her. She waited with trepidation as Annabelle disappeared up the stairs to fetch whatever it was that she would have to wear.
Annabelle returned carrying a pair of black heels and an assortment of jewelry. Lisa breathed a sigh of relief. She then realized that she would have to be a naked waitress for Annabelle’s dinner guests, and her stomach turned.
“There,” said Annabelle, once Lisa was “dressed.” “I’ve managed to make you look somewhat presentable.”
Lisa surveyed her appearance in the full-length mirror in the hall. Killer heels. A golden necklace with a jewel pendant. A few thin bracelets on her wrists and ankles. Small, dangling jewel earrings. Purple eyeshadow and ruby red lips. Hair in a carefully sculpted updo. The contrast with the wild beast she’d been that morning was total.
“Hmm,” said the witch. “There’s one last thing. We’ve got to lose the bush.” She whispered a few words and snapped her fingers, causing a shower of little hairs to descend from Lisa’s crotch.
“Clean that up, would you?” Annabelle said, sounding out of breath. Her face was red with exertion.
Just like that, Lisa’s last, inadequate scrap of modesty was gone. She stared at the smooth, bald skin around her slit for a moment, and then went to fetch a dustpan, walking awkwardly in her high-heels. The witch had found one final way to strip her.
* * *
“…and that’s when I turned the bastard into a frog…”
“…you know, I’ve never understood the hype around Eye of Newt…”
“…shouldn’t have expected anything different from a vampire…”
Lisa stood in the kitchen, her ear pressed against the thin wood door, listening to snatches of Lady Annabelle and her guests’ dinner conversation. She identified two voices besides Annabelle’s—another woman’s voice, high-pitched, and sing-song, and a man’s voice, deep and constantly roaring with laughter.
The instruction Lisa had received from Lady Annabelle was to remain out of sight until she heard a bell ring. Then she was to bring the wine—”a fine vintage,” Lady Annabelle had said. Lisa had decided to dutifully await her summons by placing herself in the best possible position to hear it immediately, though some might call this eavesdropping.
The flow of conversation was disturbed by the unmistakable sound of the bell, and Lisa quickly took the wine bottle up in both hands and used her butt to push the kitchen’s swinging door open.
“Oh, hello!” said the male voice.
Redness rose to her cheeks as she looked out at the small dining room and the staring eyes of Annabelle’s guests. She had been strictly warned against trying to cover herself up. “Your focus, as a waitress, should be on the guests, and not yourself. You will conduct yourself with poise and elegance and behave no differently than if you were fully clothed,” Annabelle had said. “Well, fully clothed and not subject to an ingenious curse by a beautiful and terrible witch. Haha!”
Lisa slowly walked to the table, holding out the bottle of wine before her. She had been naked in the presence of so many, for so long, but each time was like the first time. The shock never went away. There was also the sensation of air on her newly hairless crotch.
The male guest, on the right, was an older man with hair that was more gray than black and a pointy beard. He wore a purple suit that reminded Lisa of the fashion designers she’d met on the night of the break-in. Though he was not a wholly unattractive man, he had an oily demeanor that made Lisa shudder, and this wasn’t helped by the way he looked at her, devouring her with his eyes, practically licking his lips.
The female guest, on the left, was a stranger-looking specimen. She was very thin, with a face you could see the bones of, and very pale, with long, straight hair that was pure white. Her face didn’t look old, but it didn’t look young either—Lisa wouldn’t have been able to guess her age if asked. From what Lisa could see above the table, she appeared to be wearing a shoulderless dress made entirely out of green leaves. She looked at Lisa without any obvious expression in her pale green eyes.
Seated between the two, at the head of the table, was Annabelle, smiling cruelly. “Lisa, dear, please pour us each a glass.”
Lisa dutifully uncorked the bottle and poured wine into the female guest’s glass. When the glass was half full, a cold, bony hand touched her own indicating that this was enough. The woman did not look at or acknowledge Lisa further as she pulled away.
Lisa then poured wine into Lady Annabelle’s glass and move to the male guest, who insisted on holding his glass in such a way that she had to lean over him to pour it. She could feel his hot breath on her skin and his eyes on her boobs.
“Thanks, sweetcheeks,” he said, once his glass was filled almost to the brim and Lisa could finally step back.
Annabelle caught Lisa’s eye. “Leave the bottle here and bring the starters.”
Lisa nodded, placed the wine on the table and turned to return to the kitchen. She tried to walk swiftly, but knew she hadn’t been quick enough when she felt a hand against her ass, and then a squeeze.
Lisa almost leaped a foot in the air. She’d had her ass grabbed once or twice before, but only through clothes. It was much worse on bare skin. Reflexively, she turned her head back and gave the man a dirty look. He grinned back at her and winked.
“Lisa!” shrieked Annabelle. “That is no way to look at an honored guest! Show respect, young lady!”
The anger Lisa felt was immediately washed away by dread. Stupid, stupid, stupid! What was she thinking? She’d been seconds away from slapping the man.
“Sydney, please forgive Lisa,” said Annabelle. “She is very new at this, and there’s a lot she still needs to learn.”
Sydney laughed heartily. “Nothing a bit of discipline won’t fix, eh?”
Annabelle’s characteristically cruel smile returned. “You’re absolutely right, Sydney. Please, show Lisa some discipline.”
Lisa’s eyes widened in horror.
“With pleasure,” said Sydney.
SMACK! Lisa squealed as Sydney’s hand once again came into contact with her bare backside. The force of it stung, and it took all her willpower not to bring her hands back and rub it.
“That should be enough,” said Annabelle. “The starters, please, Lisa.”
Lisa speedwalked back to the kitchen. Once safely inside, she allowed her face to contort into an expression of rage and pain, and let a few tears drop. She rubbed the tender part of her ass. What a sleazey fucker that Sydney was! How dare he! And of course Annabelle would only encourage it…
The party would be expecting the starters soon, so there was no time for any sort of recovery. Wiping her tears and forcing her mouth back into a hard, thin line, Lisa started dishing up the soup. As she dished, she strained her ears to catch snippets of the conversations in the dining room.”
“…naked waitress… wonderful idea…”
“…a thorough cleaning of course…”
“…don’t doubt…a thief…”
“…stroke of brilliance…”
Lisa brought out two bowls of soup and placed them in front of the two guests. This time, the party continued their conversation, acting as if she wasn’t there. Well, apart from Sydney’s leers.
“So she really can’t wear clothes at all?” asked the female guest.
“Not without extreme discomfort,” replied Annabelle. “The tighter the clothes and—I’m really proud of this one—the more private the body part, the more uncomfortable it is!”
“That explains the shoes and jewelry,” said Sydney.
“Yes, those are fine,” said Annabelle. “We could give her a hat, a belt, gloves, stockings, garters, even a scarf, and she’d be mostly fine. But add even just a bikini to that, and she feels compelled to take it all off immediately!”
“Very creative,” said the female guest.
“I learned from the best, Drusilla,” Annabelle replied, smiling at her.
During the conversation, Lisa fetched the last bowl of soup and the breadbasket for the table. Then she retreated to the far wall, away from grabby hands, and stood at attention, with her hands behind her back, hoping to hear more.
“Lisa,” said Annabelle. “You’re dismissed. Please return to the kitchen.”
“I think she should stay!” said Sydney. Then, pushing his chair back slightly, he added, “In fact, she can come sit on my lap!”
Lisa battled to keep a blank, emotionless face.
“There’s no need for that,” said Annabelle brusquely. “You’ve had your free sample already, Sydney.”
Sydney laughed. “What, don’t you believe in test drives? How else can I know if it’s the right fit?”
“You know how I do business,” Annabelle said coldly. “I can’t risk damaged merchandise. And at the rate you go through wives, I don’t trust you to be gentle.”
Sydney made the facial expression of a small boy who has just watched his soccer ball deflate. “Couldn’t you just magic up any, uh, cracks and chips?” He chortled at his joke.
Annabelle looked down for a moment. “It’s… not that simple. My domain is that of the mind. Material reality is… more complicated…”
There was a brief, uncomfortable silence. A nasty look came over Sydney’s countenance.
“And besides,” continued Annabelle, forcing a jovial air, “I’m rather enjoying having a servant. Lisa, bring us the main course!”
Lisa nodded and returned to the kitchen.
The rest of the dinner passed without incident. True to her word, Annabelle did not let Sydney touch Lisa again. The guests appeared to enjoy the roast that Lisa had prepared, and that gave her a strange feeling of pride.
After dessert, Lisa brought out another bottle of wine, and was then dismissed to her sleeping quarters, much to Sydney’s disappointment. “Lovely to meet you,” he said, blowing a kiss after her. Lisa picked up the pace.
Once inside her room, she closed the door and pushed the iron tub in front of it. Annabelle would probably be mad about that, but Lisa wasn’t taking any chances.
She lay down on her mattress, entirely spent after one of the most exhausting and humiliating days of her life. And that was getting to be a stiff competition.
But though Lisa’s body was tired, her mind was restless. Her thoughts turned back to the dinner-table conversation.
“My domain is that of the mind.”
“Material reality is more complicated.”
Lisa recalled how tired Annabelle had looked after magically filling her bathtub, and then again after shaving her pubic hair. She thought back to all the spells she’d seen Debra perform, and, more importantly, to the ones she hadn’t. Why would a witch need to pick a lock?
Maybe this witch was not invincible after all.
To be continued…