Vestiphobia (Complete)

[FinchAgent]

Chapter Fourteen: Undone

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."

Lisa reddened.

"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..."

"...suitable punishment..."

"...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...

[FinchAgent]

Chapter Fifteen: Unbroken

Lisa was awoken by a pain in her temples. She shot up instantly, rubbing her head, and looked around. The headache had interrupted a dream she'd been having, about being home for Christmas. The smiling faces of her parents and her old school friends. The snow falling and the fireplace crackling.

And the feeling of fabric on her skin. Against her legs and arms and on her back. The weight of a big winter coat on her shoulders. The tight embrace and support of a bra. Gloves on her hands and a scarf around her neck. All of it, without pain or discomfort.

But it was just a dream. She was still in the witch's house, and had spent the night on a ratty old mattress, without so much as a blanket to cover herself. She looked down at her unsupported breasts and the spot between her legs, where hair was no longer visible. Her "outfit" from last night, high-heels and bracelets, lay in a corner of the room. Her long hair fell about her face.

The headache still raged. Lisa had the intuitive sense that it was Lady Annabelle's way of calling her to her duty. Duty. No, captivity. She had no duty to this evil woman, no matter what was said to the contrary. The shoplifting had been a mistake, Lisa regretted it, but she had surely suffered enough.

With a grunt of effort, Lisa pushed the heavy bathtub away from the door and opened it. Standing in the doorway, about to step out, she had a familiar moment of panic. She was stepping out into the world with nothing to cover her body. Even after so long, she felt keenly the air against her exposed skin.

"There you are," said Lady Annabelle. She wore a form-fitting emerald green dress with a plunging neckline, and her red hair was beautifully curled, like a fifties glamour model. "I have a job for you in the basement. Do it well, and you will regain your power of speech."

Lisa's eyes widened with hope and she nodded vigorously.

"In the basement, you will find a frog," Annabelle continued. "This frog was not born a frog, but a man. He brought this punishment upon himself, but has served his term and learned his lesson."

Lisa nodded again. She wondered how long her own term was to be.

"The curse can only be broken by a kiss," Annabelle continued. "Not true love or any of that fairy-tale nonsense, just a kiss on the lips. Kiss the frog, and he will become a man again. Hold the kiss through the transformation, and you will regain your voice."

The idea of kissing a frog, and then basically making out with an unknown man made Lisa wrinkle her brow. But if that's what she had to do to get her voice back, she would do it.

Lady Annabelle led Lisa to the entrance of the basement, a door in the kitchen. She opened the door, beyond which stone steps spiraled into the dark.

Taking a deep breath, Lisa walked down the steps, the stone cold against her bare feet. She trailed the wall with her right hand as she descended into the darkness.

"Ribbit."

The sound startled her. It didn't sound like a frog, but a human being. At the bottom of the staircase, she fumbled against the wall for the light-switch. There it was! CLICK.

A dim bulb on the ceiling flickered to life, illuminating the "frog". Lisa gasped.

In the center of the basement, a stocky man crouched in a frog-like position, with his fists on the ground. He wore blue jeans and a green t-shirt, and looked a few years older than Lisa. He blinked at her and stuck out his tongue.

"Ribbit," he said again.

The effect was uncanny. Lisa felt like she ought to be embarrassed in the presence of a fully clothed man, but his dumb, animalistic stare seemed wholly innocent. He really was, at least in his own mind, a frog. Lisa couldn't decided whether this made her job easier or harder than if she'd had to kiss an actual frog. She took a step towards him.

Looking panicked, the frog hopped away, a clumsy, ridiculous movement to watch a human body make. Catching him would be no problem.

Animated by the goal of regaining her voice, Lisa stomped towards the frog and grabbed him by the shoulder. Allowing herself a brief preliminary shudder, she forced his head around and puckered up her lips. She held his dumb animal gaze for a moment before taking the plunge.

Their lips met, Lisa aggressively holding the back of the frog's head still. Initially, the frog thrashed against her, his lips unyielding. But gradually he calmed down and leaned into it, lips softened.

Lisa released the kiss as she felt his hand on her lower back.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," she said, stiffening and drawing her head back. "Just breaking a curse here." Her voice sounded hoarse, but she could speak again. The witch had been telling the truth.

The man who was no longer a frog looked at her with a mix of desire and confusion. "Why are you naked?"

Lisa blushed and put an arm across her chest. "It's a long story."

"Well, it's not every day a hot naked chick forces herself on me," he said. "But it is a welcome change from frog life."

Lisa took a step back, but not before the man managed to slide his hand down and squeeze her butt-cheek. "Eep!" she yelped.

"Hey baby, you started it," he said, pulling himself up to from the floor. "I don't think I'm fully cured yet. Ribbit." He winked.

Lisa balled her hands into fists and glared daggers at the man.

"You wanna fight? I like it rough."

WHAM! The sound of Lisa's fist meeting the man's cheek echoed across the basement. He staggered backwards, clutching his face in his hands. "Bitch!"

Lisa dropped into a fighting crouch, fists again readied. She felt strong, powerful, more than a match for this dweeb.

The man's cheek was swollen and his eyes were clouded with hatred. "I swear, I'll—"

But before he could finish his threat, his face went blank, and he dropped back down into a crouch. "Ribbit."

Lisa turned around to see Lady Annabelle standing at the foot of the stairs. "Perhaps he hasn't learned his lesson yet after all," she said. "I did this to him after he 'accidentally' felt up Bethany. Two weeks as a frog was not long enough to give this disgusting little pervert respect for women. Perhaps another month will do it."

The frog man sat motionless, his face blank of all expression. If he could hear the extension of his sentence, it didn't show.

"Come, Lisa," said Annabelle, beckoning her with a finger. "There is much you must do to learn your own lesson."

"How much?" Lisa asked. The words tumbled out of her mouth, though she'd only meant to think them.

A cruel smile spread across Annabelle's face. "Did you ever see the play Les Miserables?"

"No."

"Well, near the start, Jean Valjean is arrested for stealing a loaf of bread to feed his family. He is given five years on the galleys. Every time he attempts to escape, another five years is added to his sentence. I think this is a good model to follow."

Lisa cocked her head. "I—I don't understand."

"Let us must keep in mind the differing circumstances of the crimes," Annabelle continued. "Valjean stole out of desperation. His family was hungry, they had no food. You stole out of greed. You were not naked, but had many clothes to wear. So your punishment must of course be... greater."

Lisa's mouth fell open.

"And you did not merely steal from my shop. You also broke into both my shop and my cabin, in attempts to steal more. Like Valjean, you have extended your own sentence."

"H—how long was he in jail for?"

"Twenty years."

Lisa could feel the beginnings of tears in her eyes. She pointed angrily at the frogman. "B—but that guy only got a few weeks!"

Annabelle put a hand to her chin. "That's a good point. But I can't have him living in my basement forever, you know."

"S—surely you need the spare room too!" Lisa was just saying whatever came to mind now.

Annabelle's smile softened, and she placed a handle gently under Lisa's chin. "Oh Lisa, but you've been so useful! I do so enjoy having a helping hand around here."

At this, Annabelle spread her arms wide and pulled Lisa into an embrace. The fabric of her dress was silk against Lisa's back.

"In some ways," she whispered in Lisa's ear, "you're like the daughter I never had."

Lisa shuddered.

"But you're right," Annabelle continued. "Eventually, I will need the room. Even favorite daughters must eventually leave the nest."

Hope swelled in Lisa's chest.

"I'm sure Sydney will be more than happy to take you off my hands when the time comes," Annabelle concluded, releasing Lisa from the hug. "He's very good in bed, you know." She winked.

As Lisa stood in that basement, feet rooted to the floor, perspiring, her future unfurled before her mind's eye. She would serve in Lady Annabelle's house, cooking and cleaning and entertaining her guests, going on shopping trips as the strange, mentally deficient daughter. Always naked, with no more than a few bangles on her body.

Then, when Annabelle tired of her, or found a new slave, she would be sold off to Sydney, the nasty, oily old man who spanked her at dinner last night. She imagined herself at the wedding ceremony, naked but for a bridal veil, Sydney slipping a ring onto her finger to claim her as his own.

And then, finally, if she survived as Sydney's bride, she would be released, a woman of forty. She saw herself, tired, broken, worn out, and still naked, with wrinkly skin and sagging breasts. Released at last after twenty long years of naked servitude.

"It'll have to be more than twenty years, of course," mused Annabelle. "That's far too short. Let's go with twenty five. That's a good number."

Tears rolled down Lisa's face.

"Come now, Lisa, or I'll make it twenty six." Annabelle was already ascending the staircase.

Lisa blinked out the tears and shook the visions out of her head. She could feel anger building inside her. She looked back at the frogman's face, still badly bruised from her punch. Lady Annabelle appeared not to have noticed it. She seemed to have no idea how strong her curse had made Lisa.

There was a temptation to rush at Lady Annabelle. To hold her down and beat her. To hit her once for every year she planned to keep Lisa imprisoned. It would feel good, even better than it had felt to punch the frogman. But it would be rash.

Lisa climbed the stairs slowly, taking deep breaths in and out to calm herself. As she climbed, she forged her anger into determination. The witch could not hold her for twenty five years. Not even for twenty five days.

* * *

Over the next two weeks, Lady Annabelle worked Lisa hard throughout the day. She would wake her up early in the morning and send her outside in the damp dew to tend to the plants and occasionally mow the lawn. Though she got cold and wet, she was grateful to be up too early to draw attention to herself, beyond the double-takes of a few joggers.

Then she would hose the dirt and grass off her skin and drip dry in the early morning sun. After that, she would prepare her lady's breakfast, and then begin cleaning the house. Through the day, she would prepare lunch and dinner.

About twice a week, Lisa did the laundry. Being forbidden to use the washing machine, she washed the clothes by hand in a bucket of soapy water. Lady Annabelle would watch, sometimes, enjoying the spectacle of the naked girl washing mountains of clothing she couldn't wear.

Another thing Annabelle liked to do with Lisa was practice magic. Each night, after dinner, she would summon Lisa into the drawing room and cast a succession of spells on her.

The spells Annabelle liked to cast followed a pattern that was becoming clearer and clearer to Lisa. One night, she was turned into a succession of animals, in the way the frogman had been. She bawked like a chicken and meowed like a cat, but no physical transformation came over her. Instead, it was like her body was possessed by the spirit of an animal, who gained control of her limbs while she looked on, powerless.

Annabelle broke the final spell just as Lisa, in dog mode, was raising her leg over the couch leg. She collapsed into a mortified, blushing heap as control returned to her body.

Another night, Annabelle experimented with tweaking the parameters of Lisa's nudity curse. In one version, Lisa felt as though she was fully clothed, while still remaining naked. It was a strange, confusing feeling, looking down at her bare skin while she could feel fabric rub against it.

In another version, Lisa felt completely comfortable, even defiant, about her nudity. She looked on Annabelle, the boring textile, with contempt. "You should get in touch with your body more," she said.

Annabelle snorted derisively. "Only amateurs cast skyclad."

When that spell was undone, all the shame and embarrassment came flooding right back into Lisa's mind. All at once, she relived the post-streak party, the campus streak, the ordeal in the art room, her nighttime chase, and her naked trip to the supermarket. She sat on the floor in a fetal position, hugging her knees.

"That one takes all the fun out of it," said Annabelle. "We can't have you enjoying your punishment, now can we?"

Another night, Annabelle used Lisa to channel the spirits of the dead. The women were thoroughly embarrassed, and the men were too busy feeling their new body up to be of any use.

"I didn't figure Queen Victoria for such a prude," said Annabelle. "But perhaps a woman who can't wear clothes isn't the right vessel for this."

For a moment, Lisa hoped that Lady Annabelle would lift her curse, at least temporarily, but instead she was dismissed for the night. Relieved, if slightly disappointed, Lisa returned to her room.

After closing the door behind her, Lisa walked to her mattress and lifted up a corner. Underneath the mattress lay a wrinkled pair of plain black panties. Lisa picked up the panties and lay them down on the carpet in front of her. She then sat down, legs crossed, hands pressed together in a praying motion.

She had noticed early on that the vast majority of Lady Annabelle's magic affected the mind. The same was true for Debra's spells. From her nudity curse, to the trances and recall spells, to the experiments she'd been subject to while serving in this house, it had all made her think a certain way. Even the frogman had not actually been transformed into a frog, but made to think he was a frog.

The few times Lady Annabelle had cast spells that did something in physical reality, she had been exhausted. The shortest after-dinner magic session had been one in which Annabelle made her grow a monkey's tail. After a few minutes of moving it around, it had retracted back into her spine and Lady Annabelle had retired to bed. And this was after drinking a whole jug of what Debra had called magic steroids.

The tail might have been useful, but the lesson was more useful. Lady Annabelle, for all her posturing as a powerful witch, was no good at changing things in the physical world. Her real power lay in changing things in people's minds.

But while she could change minds, she did not control them.

Lisa opened her eyes and stood up. She stepped forward, placing her right and then her left foot inside the panties. Then she crouched down, gripped the fabric, and slowly pulled them up her legs.

The black fabric slid up her skin, all the way to her crotch, covering her slowly regrowing pubic hair. She pulled the panties up all the way and snapped the waistband into place.

Then she focused her mind on her bare stomach, and her bare breasts, and the bare skin of her thighs and ankles. She was still mostly naked. Mostly.

Lisa felt almost comfortable. If she allowed her mind to wander to the feeling of the thin fabric stretched across her ass, she grew less comfortable. So she didn't think about it. And if she did, she reminded herself of the look on the Annabelle's face as the tail retracted into her spine.

The powerful magic, the lasting magic really was all in her head. It needed Lisa's mind to function. But Lisa's mind was her own.

She was wearing panties again. It was an achievement. But she didn't think about that. Instead, she thought about how the wind would feel on her bare stomach and against her legs when she escaped from Lady Annabelle's captivity.

She smiled and lay down on the mattress to sleep.

* * *

When Lisa woke up early in the morning, she would quickly remove her panties and hide them under the mattress, before assuming her naked duties. There was something comical in this, getting undressed for work.

When Lisa did the laundry, or cleaned Lady Annabelle's room, and when she thought she could get away with it, she would take a piece of clothing, bunch it up in her fist, and spirit it away to her under-mattress hiding place. She wouldn't need much, just enough to be decent for her escape. And Lady Annabelle had an enormous array of outfits, so it was unlikely that she would miss anything.

After a few days, Lisa had a full outfit. After a few days more, she was able to wear it.

There was no more use in delaying. One night, after Lady Annabelle had used up her energy trying to shrink Lisa, she'd gone to bed early. Once Lisa was sure that she was asleep, she returned to her room, steeled her resolve, and put on her clothes.

First, the black panties. Up over the hips, on with no problem. Then, a pair of cut-off jean shorts, which were barely larger than the panties. After that, a black bra, slightly too big, clasped into place. Finally, a green crop-top, short enough to leave most of Lisa's ribs on display. She hadn't managed to get any shoes, but the soles of her feet were tough and hardy.

Lisa stepped out of her room and came face to face with herself in the hallway mirror. She almost cried at the sight of her clothed body. She'd never have worn anything this skimpy before her curse, but after everything she'd been through, this outfit may as well have been a spacesuit. For the first time in weeks, the girl in the mirror was a normal college student, ready to face the world.

The plan was to walk to the nearest bus-stop and catch a ride from there. Lisa had already put some coins from the witch's coin bowl in one of the pockets of her shorts. But as she was heading for the door, she suddenly had a better idea.

The frogman in the basement stared blankly at the girl walking down the staircase. He tried to hop away as she stalked towards him, but wasn't fast enough.

"Come along now, pal," Lisa said, grabbing him by the arm and pulling, her other hand over his mouth. With cursed strength, she pulled him out of the basement and up the stairs. Then she pushed him in front of her, out of the house.

Standing behind him, she plunged her hands into his jean pockets and started fishing around. "Don't get excited now, it's not what you think. Aha!"

Triumphantly, she produced a smartphone. The wallpaper was of a Playboy model in a bikini, and the PIN code was 42069. She quickly found a rideshare app and ordered an expensive trip back to college.

"This is your way of saying sorry for groping me," she said to the dull-eyed frogman.

A few minutes later, the car she'd called pulled up to the curb. Lisa waved at the driver and then turned back to the frogman. "Apology accepted," she said, putting the phone back in his pocket. "Keep your hands to yourself next time." Then she kissed him on the lips.

"Th-thank you," he stammered, as Lisa sprung away and hopped into the waiting car.

* * *

Lisa thanked the driver and disembarked right outside her dorm building. The night air was cool against her bare stomach, as she padded with bare feet towards the entrance. She heard a couple of wolf whistles, and could only roll her eyes. It felt good to be normal again. Well, almost normal. Sweat had begun to form on her brow, and she picked up the pace.

It had been weeks since she'd last been on campus. But now, back in familiar surroundings, her mind returned to the subject of her friends. They would certainly be glad to see her again, safe and sound! And she would be glad to see them... Shelly, Claire, Colin and... Debra. Lady Annabelle had said she was safe, and, while evil, she didn't seem to be big on telling lies.

The sights and smells of her dorm building were familiar and comforting. Lisa felt herself relaxing for what felt like the first time in weeks. A few people waved as she walked past and she waved back. Just a few stairs, and she'd be back in her dorm room with Shelly.

Lisa's knuckled rapped on the wooden door of Room 57. She hoped Shelly was in. If not, she'd try Claire and Debra's dorm.

The handle turned and the door opened a crack and then stopped.

"Shelly?" Lisa asked, leaning against the wood.

A manicured hand reached through the crack and shoved Lisa back violently. She stumbled into the hall, and a haughty redhead emerged from the room.

It was Bethany, or rather, Lady Annabelle, in college girl form. She was naked, but stood proud and terrifying.

"Stealing again, are we?" Bethany asked, a hand on her hip. "What a heartless bitch you are, Lisa, leaving a poor girl with nothing to wear. But that's soon fixed."

Jabbing a long, purple fingernail in Lisa's face, she said, "Strip. Now."

Bethany's words made Lisa at once painfully aware of her outfit, and she hurriedly pulled off her top and jean shorts. A few people in the hallway stopped to stare.

"What are you looking at?" Bethany screamed at the onlookers. At once, all of them disappeared into dorm rooms and down staircases. "All of it, Lisa."

Eyes brimming with tears, Lisa removed her bra and panties, and stood naked in the hall of her dormitory. Bethany's face twisted into its characteristic cruel smile as she gathered the clothes up from the floor and put them on her own body.

"You may spend the night here," Bethany said to Lisa, once she was dressed. "I will expect you back at work in the morning. Just as you are."

Lisa could feel the anger building up inside her again. "Or else what?" she growled.

Bethany raised an eyebrow, unintimidated. "Or else I won't lift the curses on your friends."

"The what?"

"You heard me."

Lisa watched as Bethany turned away and walked down the hallway. Then, remembering she was naked again, she darted into her dorm room and slammed the door behind her.

"Hey Lis," came a weak voice.

Lisa turned to see Shelly smiling sadly at her, sitting naked on atop a pile of discarded clothes. Her arms were folded tightly across her chest. "Guess I've got it too now."

To be concluded...

[FinchAgent]

Chapter Sixteen: Undressed

Heedless of Shelly's state of undress, or of her own, Lisa rushed forward and crouched to give her best friend a hug. "I'm so glad to see you again," Lisa said.

Shelly returned the hug, wrapping her arms around Lisa's back. "M—me too!" she stammered. "Where were you? What happened? How did you get back? Nice tan!"

Lisa sighed. "It's a long story. And it's not over yet." She released the hug and held Shelly's bare shoulders at arm's length. "Not by a long shot."

"We were really worried about you, Lis," Shelly said. "When Debra turned up and you didn't, I thought..."

"Debra's here?" Lisa asked. "She's okay?"

"Well..." Shelly furrowed her brows. "She's alive, but there's the... what is that?"

Lisa looked down at the pile of clothes under Shelly's butt. A light was flashing in the midst of it, and there was a faint sound of vibration. "It's your phone!"

"Oh!" she exclaimed, fishing around in the pockets of her discarded jeans. She pulled out the phone. "It's Debra!" she said, sliding her finger to answer and putting the call on speaker.

"Hello?" asked the voice over the phone. It was tinny and indistinct, but unmistakably Debra. "Shelly? Are you okay? You weren't picking up!"

"Debra!" exclaimed Lisa. "You're alive!"

There was a brief pause.

"Lisa? Is that you?"

"Yes! I'm here with Shelly."

"How did you—never mind, not over the phone. Shelly, listen, this is going to sound crazy, but Bethany came into our room and put a curse on Claire. The bitch from the party. I had no idea she was a witch!"

Shelly and Lisa were silent, not sure where to start.

"Anyway, she'd probably coming after you next! I've been trying to get through to you for like twenty minutes, so I don't know how much time you have, but—"

"Too late," said Shelly, looking down at her unsupported breasts. "She got me."

"Fuck!" replied Debra. "Okay, well, at least you're back now, Lisa. I guess that means we don't need to go looking for you any more. But we do need to do something about this Bethany situation."

"Roger that," said Lisa.

"Shelly, what curse did she put on you?"

Shelly looked confused. "Uh... same as Lisa, I think. She came into my room, said a bunch of weird words and moved her fingers around, then there was a flash of green light, and then I suddenly felt like all my clothes were three sizes too small."

"Awesome!" replied Debra.

"What?!" snapped Shelly, clutching her knees to her chest. "This is NOT awesome!"

There was an awkward pause.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have put it like that. This sucks for you, I know. But if it's the same curse as Lisa's, that means you can leave your room. Which is not the case for me and Claire."

Shelly gasped. "Leave my room! Like this?!"

From the other end of the line there came a long, exasperated sigh. "I really hate to do this to you, but we've got to have a meeting, now. Especially if Lisa's back. I've got some new spells you both need to see. You've got to get to us somehow."

Shelly whimpered.

"Hey," Debra continued, "you've got expert help from the most experienced streaker on campus! Lisa will find a way to get the both of you to our room discreetly."

"Debra's right," said Lisa. "I have so much to tell everyone. And I've found some magic loopholes."

"Awesome. Get your butts to our dorm as soon as you can, both of you. Oh... and fetch Colin on your way."

Shelly's face turned white. "F-fetch Colin?!"

"Yes, Claire's on the phone with him now. He's also been cursed by Bethany. Says he... can't see anymore."

"That bitch!" exclaimed Lisa.

Shelly sighed with relief.

"See you soon," Debra finished curtly, hanging up the phone.

Lisa made eye contact with Shelly. "Let's go."

Shelly gestured at her own naked body, and then at Lisa's.

"Right, that," said Lisa. "Like I said, I've figured out some loopholes. So it's better that we go to them than they come to us. I wouldn't want to make poor Debra and Claire streak across campus!"

Shelly cocked her head in confusion, and then seemed to realize something. "Oh, you thought that... no, Debra can still wear clothes. She did say that Bethany cursed Claire though, so maybe she can't. But Debra has a different curse. She can't leave her room."

So that's what Lady Annabelle had meant when she said that Debra would no longer be able to interfere.

"Claire's been bringing her food and stuff, like I did for you," Shelly continued. "But I guess that might be difficult now that Claire's been cursed too. Hmm, I wonder why Bethany cursed Claire and not Debra?"

"She had already cursed Debra," Lisa said. "Bethany is the witch who owns the boutique. Calls herself Lady Annabelle. They're the same person. In fact, she's also our RA, Wendy."

"W—what?" Shelly stammered. "B—but she's so much older..."

"Magic," Lisa shrugged. "I watched her transform in front of me."

"Oh, right, obviously," Shelly said, rolling her eyes. "Magic. That's a real thing. I should know..." She ran a hand down her side.

"We're wasting time," said Lisa, tapping her foot on the carpet. "Let's get dressed and go."

Shelly sucked in a sharp breath at the word "dressed." Sweat was forming on her brow.

Lisa looked at her sympathetically. "It's hard, I know." She was already rummaging through Shelly's closet. "Here, this dress is pretty loose." Lisa held up a light blue sleeveless sundress.

"It's also really short and thin," replied Shelly. "I can't wear that on its own!"

Lisa bit her lip. "Look, here's how the loophole works. The curse acts on your mind. It makes you feel very uncomfortable when you're wearing clothes, and normal when you're naked. The more bare skin, the better. So if you wear something skimpy, and focus your mind on the parts of your body that are still unclothed, like really concentrate on the air against your skin, you feel okay. It can also help to try telling yourself you're still naked."

Shelly raised an eyebrow.

"Just try it, okay," said Lisa, handing the dress to her friend. Then she turned to her own closet and started digging for an outfit. She found a short skirt and halter-top, which she quickly put on.

"See!" she said, spreading her arms in the air and doing a twirl. "I'm clothed! Ow! I mean, naked! Wink wink!"

"Did you really just say 'wink wink'? And be careful about doing that in that skirt, it leaves nothing to the imagination."

Absurdly, Lisa blushed. It was amazing that she could still feel embarrassed about flashing Shelly after being naked in front of her for so long. But she recovered herself and smiled, putting a hand on her hip. "See! It works!"

"Okay, I'll try it," Shelly replied. She looked at the dress in her hands like it was a particularly unappetizing meal that she was about to force down her throat.

"Just tell yourself you're putting on a backpack," said Lisa.

"Backpack," Shelly repeated, gulping. With shaking hands, she put her arms inside the dress and pulled it over her head. "I'm wearing... a backpack."

The bottom of the dress had barely cleared her breasts when she yanked it off again with a cry of anguish. "Hot! Hot! Hot!"

"Try again," Lisa said. "Concentrate."

Shelly did as she was instructed, but to no avail. No matter how hard she tried, she simply could not keep the dress on.

Lisa grimaced. Perhaps this curse was different in some way from her own. Or perhaps she had underestimated the amount of mental toughness that was required to resist its effects. She had spent weeks forcing herself to wear assorted items of clothing in their various experiments, and endured the agony of bath towels and the horrible olive dress. And under the influence of the counter-curse, she'd worn full, tight outfits. She'd conditioned herself to pain and built mental fortitude. She couldn't expect the same of Shelly mere minutes after being cursed.

"I'm sorry, Lis," said Shelly, her shoulders slumping in dejection. "It's just too hot and too tight."

Lisa pressed her fingers against the bridge of her nose. "Maybe it's not as easy as I thought. I guess it takes time. But we haven't got time. Debra and Claire are expecting us, and I need to talk to them. If we're going to break these curses, we've all got to work together."

Shelly said nothing.

"You're not going to like this," said Lisa, "but we have to get to their room as soon as possible. Clothes or no clothes."

Shelly looked at the dress, which was now sprawled across her bed. She looked ready to throw up.

"I'm not going to make you do anything I won't do," said Lisa, pulling off her halter top. "Solidarity, sister!" At this, she yanked down her skirt and stepped out of it, naked once more.

Shelly whimpered and looked down, wrapping her arms tightly around her body. "It's easy for you," she muttered. "You're hot. And thin. You're not all blubbery and jiggly, like me..."

Lisa gasped. "Shelly!" She marched over to her friend and forcefully pulled her arms off her body. "You are not blubbery!"

"Oh save it," said Shelly. "I've seen you streak. You're a majestic gazelle. I'm a big waddling whale."

Lisa raised Shelly's chin and looked her firmly in the eyes. "Shelly, don't ever say that about yourself. You're beautiful, inside and out."

"You're just saying that."

"No, I mean it," said Lisa. "Your skin is flawless, you've got curves to die for, and those boobs! Wow!"

Shelly blushed. "R-really?"

"Absolutely," said Lisa. "I'm straight, but I still have to force myself not to stare at your awesome tits."

Shelly giggled. "You really don't think I'm fat?"

"Of course not. A bit of jiggling is sexy as hell."

"Thanks Lis."

"No problem, gorgeous."

Lisa put an arm around Shelly's shoulders and the two girls stood for a moment, feeling the air against their bare skin and internalizing what they were about to do.

"We can take the tunnels from Colin's dorm to Debra's," said Lisa. "But this building is too new to be connected to the underground network, so we'll have to do the first leg outside."

Shelly gulped. "We should put on shoes. I think I can handle shoes."

Lisa's eyes lit up. "We can do more than just shoes, Shelly! Maybe we can't get dressed, but that doesn't stop us from accessorizing—you proved it!"

A few minutes later, Lisa and Shelly stood in front of their dorm room door, steeling themselves for what was coming. They both wore comfortable socks and sturdy running shoes, and had their hair tied back in ponytails. They had also covered their faces. Lisa wore her owl mask, and Shelly had on a gold drama mask that looked like a prop from Eyes Wide Shut.

In addition, Shelly carried a small bag on her back, containing her cellphone and the key to their room. She'd also found a pair of gloves and a scarf. "This feels really weird," she said.

"Welcome to my life," Lisa replied, turning the door handle.

The streakers took off down the hallway.

* * *

"It's really chilly!" Shelly whispered.

The two naked girls were tip-toeing along a wall, still some distance from Colin's dorm. Lisa looked at her friend, who was visibly shivering, goosebumps across her skin, nipples hard enough to cut diamonds. She shrugging, feeling no different from usual.

"How are you not cold?" Shelly asked, between teeth chatters. It was late in the fall.

"I guess I'm used to it," Lisa replied.

"I still can't believe you were lost in the woods for that long! And you're not sick, or starved, or anything!"

Lisa's mind returned to her time in the wilderness. "It was better than being the witch's slave. And you know what was really nice? Not having to worry about other people seeing me naked."

Shelly's eyes widened. "Here comes one now! Hide!"

And indeed, the sound of whistling was clear from around the corner of the wall, as was the sound of footfalls crunching leaves.

"Those bushes! Quick!"

Shelly and Lisa dove behind some low, thick bushes. Their bodies pressed against each other, and they hardly dared to breathe.

The footfalls stopped. The whistling slowed. Had the groundskeeper noticed something? Lisa's mask rubbed against Shelly's. She could feel her friend's body shiver.

There was a moment of silence. Then a crunch. Leaves. The footsteps starting up again. The whistling resuming its normal cadence.

"Phew," whispered Shelly, once the tuneless whistling had left earshot. Her whole body seemed to deflate as the breath she'd been holding went out of it.

Trying not to make a lot of noise, the girls slowly extricated themselves from the space between the bush and the wall, and from each other. "Sorry Shells," said Lisa. "Nowhere else to put my hands!"

Shelly blushed as the two of them stood next to the bush. "Wow, what a rush."

"Yeah," replied Lisa, brushing down her legs. "That was really close."

Shelly brushed some dirt off her arm. "What do you think he would have done if he'd found us?"

Lisa put a hand to her chin, "Well, public nudity's not illegal, so I suppose the worst he could have done is scolded us for messing up the bushes."

"What, really?"

"Yeah, someone in the city told me," Lisa replied. "It's only illegal if you get, like, sexual."

Shelly cocked her head. "I guess that makes sense, kind of."

The rest of the journey to Colin's dorm room was uneventful. Very few people were wandering around campus that night, and so the two girls were able to make it all the way to the dorm without being spotted. Colin's room was on the ground floor.

Lisa could feel her pulse quicken as they stepped from the welcome darkness of the night into the brightly lit dorm hallway. There was nowhere to hide here, so they would have to be quick. The girls exchanged glances and dashed for Colin's door.

"Colin!" Lisa whispered, knocking softly. "It's Lisa and Shelly! Let us in, quick!" She lifted the owl mask so it rested on the top of her head. Behind her, Shelly pulled her arms around herself and looked around nervously.

"Lisa!" came the overjoyed cry from inside the room. It was followed by a loud crash. And then the sound of some glass breaking. And then a cry of pain. And some swearing.

Finally, the door opened, and the two girls tumbled inside.

"Whoa!" said Colin, as Lisa flung herself into his arms. Their lips met. After a moment, he steadied himself and wrapped his arms around her lower back.

"You're naked," he said, once their kiss parted.

"I've got shoes on," Lisa coyly replied.

"Did you come all this way naked? Where were you?"

"Yep, Shells and me just streaked all the way from our dorm to come fetch you."

"Shelly's naked too?"

Shelly squeaked, covering herself tighter.

Lisa frowned, stepped back from the hug. "Yeah, seems like all my friends are getting cursed these days."

"Well don't worry Shelly, I can't see you," said Colin. "That Bethany bitch came in here and said some weird words and now my eyes don't work."

Shelly relaxed slightly, but kept her arms over her breasts and pussy.

Colin's room was a mess. He'd clearly walked into a lot of things since losing his eyesight.

"Let's get going," said Lisa, taking Colin's hand in hers. "Hold my hand, we're going to take the tunnels to Debra's room for the meeting."

Colin nodded. "Do you think she has a spell that will let me see again?"

"I think it might be... more complicated than that." Lisa shot Shelly a knowing look. "But we'll get it back. Whatever it takes." Lisa narrowed her eyes with determination and slid her mask back down over her face. "I'm going to need you to compliment my outfits."

* * *

Colin's dorm was close to Debra's, especially via underground tunnel. The two naked girls and the blind boy rushed through the dark, musty corridors, Shelly's scarf flowing behind them. After a little trial and error, they found the entrance to Debra's dorm building and ascended. Abandoning the concealing darkness for the fluorescent lights was daunting, but at least now Lisa and Shelly were able to push Colin out in front of them.

The door to Debra and Claire's room opened on the first knock, and Debra ushered them in. Her hair was all over the place and there were deep lines under her eyes. She clearly hadn't been getting much sleep, though she was dressed in flannel pajamas.

A broad smile at the sight of her friends brightened her haggard complexion. Once the door was firmly shut, Lisa and Shelly removed their masks to return her smile. Colin smiled politely in the wrong direction.

Debra pulled Lisa into a tight hug. "I'm so glad you're okay! I was afraid the witch had captured you..."

"Well, she kind of did," said Lisa. "I got away. But what happened to you? You just... disappeared! There was smoke coming off your clothes! I thought... I thought..."

Debra's expression turned into one of alarm. "I should have warned you about that, I guess. But to be honest, I'd forgotten about it."

Lisa made a face. "I don't understand."

Debra motioned towards Claire's bed. "Take a seat, we've got a lot to discuss."

Lisa sat down. "Hey Claire," she said, to the bed's other occupant, who nodded at her, smiling sadly. She was dressed in her standard athleisure wear, a tight-fitting, midriff-baring black top and leggings, and was sitting in a very stiff, upright position.

Shelly sat down on the bed at the other end of the room, and Colin took one of the girl's desk chairs. Debra strode into the middle of the room and officially opened the meeting. "First order of business: answering Lisa's question."

Lisa leaned forward in anticipation.

"My mom got me started with magic. She's... not around any more. One of the first things she did when I started learning was cast a ward on me, to keep me safe. If I'm ever in the presence of powerful, hostile magic, and it's too much for me to handle, the ward kicks in and transports me back to a safe place. That's what happened in the boutique."

Lisa nodded. "That must take a lot of magic."

Debra did a double-take. "Y-yes, it does. That's... very perceptive. The truth is, the ward only activated after she passed away. It's kind of like... I have a piece of her, all around me, even now."

"That's really special," said Shelly. "Your mom must have loved you a lot."

"She did," Debra replied, looking up at the ceiling. "But the boutique witch—Annabelle, that's her name—is very crafty. The air of her shop is thick with her own wards, and one of them caught me before I teleported out of there."

Lisa cocked her head. "But you're wearing clothes."

"Oh, I was scared of that. When I found myself back in my room, naked, the first thing I did was put on some clothes, just to see if I'd been hit by your curse, Lisa." Debra tugged at her pajama top. "I wasn't."

"No need to rub it in," Lisa said, crossing her arms over her chest.

Debra smiled at Lisa. "I'd prefer if I had been, honestly. Instead, Annabelle's magic seems to have twisted and amplified my mom's ward. Now, instead of being transported back to my room when I'm in danger, I simply can't leave. Here, let me demonstrate."

Debra marched forward and pulled open her door, causing the naked girls in the room to shrink back. She took a step forward and appeared to hit an invisible wall. "Ow!"

"Wow," said Lisa. "Shelly told me you couldn't leave your room, but I didn't expect it to be that literal."

"Yeah, it sucks," replied Debra. "And before you ask, I've tried it naked as well. Watch."

At that, she pulled off her pajama top and pushed down her pajama bottoms before trying to walk through the door again, with the same result. "See? This curse won't even let me embarrass myself in public!" She closed the door and returned to the other end of the room, not bothering to dress again.

Colin sighed. "I can't believe there are three naked girls in here now, and I had to be blind."

Shelly blushed and Debra rolled her eyes. "Careful mister," Lisa said playfully.

"So that was the state of things, up until today," continued Debra. "We figured you were captured by the witch Annabelle, Lisa, and we were busy making plans to rescue you. Colin got his brother to lend him his car, and I was researching all kinds of stuff about curses and counter-curses, and defensive and offensive magic. And about Annabelle herself. We found out where she lives and everything."

Lisa recited Annabelle's address, and Debra nodded. "To be honest, we didn't have much of a plan, but at least we had that part right."

"Claire and I figured we'd just beat the witch up or something," said Colin, shrugging. "It wasn't much of a plan, really."

"But then you came back on your own!" Debra continued. "...right when everyone else got cursed by Bethany. Who is a witch, apparently."

"They're the same person," Lisa said. "Annabelle is Bethany. And she's also Wendy, our RA. I had wondered why all my enemies seemed to be redheads."

Debra slapped her forehead. "Of course! I thought I smelled polymorph residue..."

Lisa told the group about everything she'd been through since she last saw them. How the police had chased her through the city, and how she'd fallen into the river and washed up alone in the woods. How she'd survived there, until she found the witch's cabin, and how Annabelle had taken her prisoner. How she'd lived for weeks without clothes, exposed to the elements. And finally, how she'd resisted the curse and outsmarted the witch, at least temporarily.

The audience was enraptured, at turns fascinated and horrified. Debra asked a number of questions about the spells Annabelle had practised on her, and Claire was obsessed with her time in the wilderness.

"You're really something, Lisa," said Colin, once the story was finished.

"I can't believe she wanted to keep you as a slave for that long!" Claire said, her voice quivering with anger. "And marry you off to some old creep. But at least we only have one witch to worry about."

Lisa smiled at Claire, who had been sitting unnaturally still throughout the meeting. "What did she curse you with?" Lisa asked.

"I can't move my legs," said Claire. She strained for a moment, and then released an exhausted breath.

"It's worse than that," added Debra. "She's totally immobile. Try pushing her, Lisa."

Lisa gave Claire's side a gentle push, but found no give. She pushed harder, but still the girl would not budge. Even with her considerable curse-enhanced strength, Lisa could not make Claire move an inch.

"It's like everything below my shoulders is encased in stone," Claire said, vainly trying to pulling one of her legs up with both arms.

"Weird," said Lisa.

"You're the lucky one, Shelly," said Claire, catching the eyes of the naked girl across the room from her. "At least you can still move around. Debra and I are trapped."

"We have to do something about this," said Lisa. "There's got to be a way to lift these curses. All of them."

Three desperate pairs of eyes looked at Debra pleadingly. Colin continued to stare blankly at the opposite wall.

"There is," Debra said. She walked over to her desk, pulled open the top drawer, and pulled out a sharpened stick. "We kill the witch."

Shelly gasped.

"More precisely, Lisa kills the witch," Debra continued, kneeling before Lisa and offering the wooden stake to her.

"You want Lisa to drive that thing into her heart?" Shelly asked, incredulous. "First off, I thought those were for vampires. And second off, what?!"

Debra smirked. "I think you'll find that most things will die when you stick a stake through their heart. And to your second point, have you seen our girl Lisa lately? Check out those stomach muscles!"

The muscles on the sides of Lisa's stomach were indeed strong and defined, though without being unsightly. There was almost no fat on her belly. Her arms and legs were powerful and toned.

"You've got unnatural strength, Lisa, I can sense it," said Debra. "Strength and power. It's in the way you stand, the way you move. Somehow, maybe not even consciously, you've harnessed the magic energy of this curse. I know you've thought about overpowering the witch. I can see it in your eyes."

Lisa reached out a hand and took the wooden stake from Debra.

"Magic is all about karma," Debra continued. "What she's done to you—to us—is totally out of proportion with what you did to her. She's evil, and she's not going to stop. Not unless you stop her."

"Is there any other way?" Lisa asked, turning the sharp wooden implement around in her hands.

"Well," said Debra, drawing herself up, "I've already tried fixing your curse myself, and you see where that got us. Ever since our trip to the boutique, I've been studying every aspect of the magic we encountered there, and every question I ask has this answer. Kill the witch to break her curses."

"But what if it doesn't?" asked Shelly. "You told us yourself that your mom's ward only activated after she..."

"Casting a spell that lasts beyond your own death requires a lot of power," Debra replied. "Power has many sources, but the most enduring source is love. No spell cast with malicious intent can outlast the caster. It's one of the ways that magic balances itself out."

"Okay..." said Shelly, frowning. "Sounds made up, but, I guess so does all of this magic stuff. Couldn't you give us a way to, like, neutralize the witch? Without killing her?"

"I've been looking for something like that, but I haven't found it," replied Debra. "There are a few spells I could try mixing together to achieve that, but I don't know what the side effects would be. And it's a moot point anyway, because I can't leave this room."

"Couldn't you teach us the spell?" asked Lisa.

Debra shook her head. "Magic at that level takes years of practice and study. If I gave you a spell, and you said just one word wrong, who knows what could happen? You might end up turning yourself into frogs!" She spread her arms out for dramatic effect.

"What if we get arrested for murder?" asked Colin.

"The world of magic has different laws," said Debra. "It's too complicated to explain now, but we witches have been killing each other beyond the gaze of mundane law enforcement for hundreds of years. These things have a way of... working themselves out."

There was a long silence, as everyone in the room tried to think of other ways to defeat the witch. But Debra seemed to have a counter for everything.

Lisa looked down at the wooden implement in her hands. "I guess this is the only way."

* * *

"I can't believe we're about to do this," Shelly said. She was seated in the back of Colin's brother's car, her back pressed tightly against the seat. She had a blanket over her shoulders, and she'd found that if she didn't hold it too tight, it wasn't too uncomfortable. Neither it nor her thin scarf provided much cover for her sizable breasts.

"We don't have a choice," said Lisa, her eyes firmly on the road. It had been a long time since she'd driven, but driver's ed had come back to her pretty quickly. This was the first time she'd driven a car naked. Luckily, it was dark and late, and the roads were largely empty.

"Maybe if Debra could have come with us, she'd be able to do it with magic," Colin said from the passenger seat. "But she can't."

After the meeting concluded, the three mobile members of the group had piled into Colin's brother's car and set out for the witch's house.

"I've been thinking about something you said earlier, Lisa," said Shelly. "About public nudity."

"That it's legal?"

"Yes. Maybe... maybe we have another option here."

"What are you suggesting?"

Shelly bit her lip and looked out of the window. "Well, um, maybe we could just... live with the curses."

"What?!" The car swerved, but Lisa quickly regained control.

"I'm sorry!" Shelly squealed. "I know it's not ideal, but, well, are we really about to go and kill this woman? Are we actually capable of that? And what if we fail? What if she puts even worse curses on us?"

Lisa was fuming. "So you're saying Colin should stay blind, and Debra and Claire should spend the rest of their lives in that dorm room? And the two of us should just become full-time nudists?"

Shelly sniffed. "I know it's horrible, but there are a lot of blind people out there. And a lot of shut-ins. Remember the pandemic? Maybe... maybe Debra can still find some way to dispel the curses herself, if she just spends more time on it."

"And we should run around campus with our tits out," Lisa added sarcastically.

Shelly blushed deeply. "It's not like we'd be doing it because we're sluts. You said yourself, public lewdness is still very illegal."

Lisa sighed, tilting the steering wheel to take the highway exit. "I've thought about it. I mean, I'm used to being naked now. There've been days when I don't even think about how exposed I feel, or that I should be wearing clothes. I barely remember how it feels to have all that fabric on my skin."

"It's still really weird for me," Shelly chimed in. "I hate it, and I can't even imagine what you've been through. That story you told us about going to the supermarket, being on display for all those people... urgh! It's worse than my worst nightmare!"

"Then why are you suggesting it?"

"Because... because... I don't want to make you do this, Lisa!" Shelly's voice came out in an anguished scream. "It's insane! We're about to kill someone! If it's a choice between that and letting the whole campus see my naked body for the rest of the year, I will streak with a smile."

"And if it's the rest of your life?" asked Lisa.

"Even then."

The car drove on in silence as they entered the city.

"And what if we fail?" Shelly asked. "We all know how dangerous that witch is. Trying to kill her is going to make her really mad. Who knows what curses she'll put on us then?"

"We won't fail," Lisa said, her voice drained of emotion.

"You don't know that!"

Lisa looked away from the road for a moment and turned her head to meet Shelly's gaze. Both girls' eyes were brimming with tears.

"If it was just me that was cursed, maybe I could live with it," said Lisa. "I'd have to do a lot of explaining, but I think people would understand. And maybe I'd even get used to it, after a while. There are even advantages, I suppose. No need to buy clothes, or decide what outfit to wear every day. And I'm sure you'd enjoy it, Colin."

"Really missing my eyesight right now," Colin replied.

Lisa continued, "And if it were just the two of us, Shelly, then you could do the same. But it's not. This witch has cursed all of my friends now, and both Colin and Claire are literally disabled as a result. All because of a stupid thing I did as a teenager. All to get an invite to some party so I could bat my eyelashes in front of a boy who didn't know I existed."

"It's not your fault," said Shelly. "No-one deserves what she's done to you. Any debt you might have had has been paid, many times over."

"Oh, I know that. But it's my responsibility to set things right. Before Annabelle curses anyone else."

There was another long period of silence. City had given way to suburbs, and the car was fast approaching the home of Lady Annabelle.

"You don't have to come all the way," said Lisa. "Neither of you. I'll park the car at the other end of the street and walk to the witch's house. This is my fight."

"We're not leaving you," said Colin.

Shelly took a deep breath. "I don't like, but you're my best friend. I'm coming with too."

Lisa looked back at her friend's face, which was still stained with tears, but had now hardened into a resolute expression. The wooden stake sat menacingly on the dashboard.

* * *

It was around two o'clock in the morning when Colin's brother's car pulled up in front of the gothic two-story abode belonging to Lady Annabelle. Lisa put the car into park and unclipped her seat-belt. Then she looked to her side, at the blind man staring out of the window.

"Kiss for luck?" she asked, turning his head to hers. As they kissed, she reached for one of his hands, and placed it on her right breast. He squeezed. Also for luck.

Lisa took the stake from the dashboard and climbed out of the car. Shelly and Colin climbed out as well, Colin trailing and hand on the car to guide him around it.

The wind whipped up, and Shelly shivered.

"I'm going to make a promise to you," Lisa said. "After tonight, we're never going to streak again."

Shelly smiled and nodded, pulling her blanket a little tighter. It was too short to cover her ass, and she couldn't wrap it around herself without feeling claustrophobic, so it hung open around her shoulders.

Lisa opened the trunk of the car and pulled out a canvas bag. Inside the bag was a wad of cash that covered the price of the shoplifted top, and Lisa's clothes. It was the same outfit she'd been wearing when it all started, back in the lecture hall at start of the term. Black bra and panties, white jeans, black sleeveless top, green sweater, boots. The outfit that her friends had planned to bring her on their rescue mission.

She put the bag down on Annabelle's lawn and started to get dressed.

First, panties. Then bra. They were uncomfortable, but bearable. She returned to her old trick of focusing on the unclothed parts of her body. She felt fully clothed already, and considered stopping, but decided to continue. She wanted Annabelle to see the failure of her curse.

Next was the black top. She pulled it down, grimacing at the unfamiliar and unpleasant sensation of tight fabric against her tummy. She focused on the bare skin of her legs. But then it was time for the jeans. After kicking off her streaking shoes, she hiked the tight white jeans up her legs and fastened them at the top. Sweat was forming on her brow as she focused her thoughts on her bare arms and pulled on her boots.

Finally, Lisa pulled the over-sized green sweater over her head. She smoothed it out at the front, concentrating on the naked skin of her hands, and the bare skin of her neck. She was hot and everything felt stiff.

"Wow," said Shelly, who had let go of her blanket and allowed it to drape across her shoulders. "Just watching you do that made me uncomfortable."

"I'm okay," replied Lisa, her voice straining. "And I'll feel even better when we break the curse."

Lisa turned and walked towards the witch's front door. She turned the knob and found it open. Annabelle was, after all, expecting her, though perhaps not this early. She pulled the knob and led the others inside, Colin holding fast to her clothed shoulder.

Shelly quietly shut the door behind them, and Lisa dropped the wad of cash on an end table in the entrance hall. She had now definitively paid her debt, and karma would be on her side. At least, that was the hope.

Being careful to stay quiet, the three crept up the staircase. The weight of Lisa's boots felt strange, and they made a slight squeaking noise as she stepped. It was odd, not feeling the thick carpet between her toes. To be so shielded from the world around her. Protected, in many ways, but at the cost of a dulling of the senses. Lisa realized how accustomed she'd become to feeling the world around her on her skin.

"Wait here," she whispered, as they stood outside the closed door of the witch's bedroom. "If I scream, come get me."

Colin and Shelly nodded.

Right hand gripping the wooden stake, Lisa pulled open the bedroom door and slipped inside, leaving it ajar.

Lisa knew the room well, as she'd had to clean it many times. It was dominated in the center by a four-poster bed. On the right side of the bed lay Lady Annabelle, sleeping on her back. Her long red hair bunched on the pillow.

Lisa crept towards the bed and stood over the witch. Her clothes were feeling increasingly uncomfortable. Willing her left hand to remain steady, she reached down and gingerly lifted the blanket, turning it over to expose Lady Annabelle's chest, which was covered by a sheer nightgown. It rose and fell with her breathing.

Stake held tightly in her right hand, Lisa stood over the witch. She looked down at the serene sleeping face, the slowly rising and falling chest. All she had to do was bring the stake down on the left side of that chest, and it would all be over. The hot, constricted feeling all across her body, the feeling that made her want to rip off her clothes, would disappear. Colin would be able to see again, and Debra and Claire would be free.

Just a quick, strong, thrust. That's all she needed to do.

A bead of sweat fell from Lisa's forehead and hit the witch's bosom. Lisa drew in a sharp breath.

Suddenly, she was staring into the deep brown, angry eyes of Lady Annabelle.

For a moment, nothing moved. Then everything moved. The blanket on the bed shot up, whipping Lisa in the face, and she stumbled back. Annabelle jumped to her feet, and then was grabbing Lisa's wrists. Her grip was strong. Lisa tried to resist, but it felt as though all of the strength had drained from her body.

"My my, you're a bit overdressed, aren't you Lisa?" said the witch. "And what's this? A stake? You've got to be careful with those things, they can really hurt someone." Annabelle shook Lisa's right wrist violently, and the stake flew out of her hand.

The door burst open, and Shelly rushed into the room. Colin was close behind her, his hand on her shoulder. She'd dropped the blanket outside, and for the first time seemed to forget her nudity. She and Colin had raised fists, and were ready to come to Lisa's rescue.

"How cute, more slaves," said the witch. She released Lisa's left wrist and waved her handed around, speaking guttural magic phrases.

At once, Colin and Shelly halted in their tracks and stiffened up. The witch smiled. "Strip her," she said, shoving Lisa into the arms of her friends.

Limbs moving unnaturally, Colin and Shelly pawed at Lisa's clothes. "I don't know what's happening!" Shelly screamed, as her hands gripped Lisa's sweater.

"It's not me, honest!" cried Colin, who was busy unbuckling Lisa's belt.

Lisa thrashed and squirmed, but to no avail. Where had her strength gone? She'd knocked out a purse-snatcher, punched out a lecherous frogman, carried enormous loads of washing and moved heavy furniture like it was nothing. Debra had noted her supernatural strength, but where was it now?

Shelly soon had Lisa's sweater over her head, and tossed it in a corner, as Colin was hiking her jeans down her legs. "Sorry!" Shelly said, as she slid her fingers under Lisa's top and removed that too. She could feel Colin's fingers slip into her panties. This wasn't quite how she'd imagined it would happen, though a part of her still enjoyed his touch.

Shelly unhooked her bra as Colin pulled off her last boot and sock. Lisa's clothes fell about her. She had returned to her natural state, her skin once again in contact with the whole world. The witch looked at her with sick triumph. Then her eyes turned to Colin.

She sauntered towards him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "She likes you," Annabelle said. With her other hand, she reached down and squeezed his crotch. "And you like her." Colin gasped at the touch.

"It's big," the witch said, winking at Lisa. "I think I'll give this one some... special duties."

Lisa growled with rage. Something felt different.

The the witch looked at Shelly. "Restrain her."

Shelly grabbed Lisa's arms and tried to pull them around her back. But Lisa's arms weren't moving. While Shelly's controlled body strained against her friend, her face lit up with hope.

As gently as she could, Lisa shook off Shelly's grip. She advanced on the witch.

"W-what?" Lady Annabelle cried. "I said restrain her!"

Shelly took a step forward, but was too slow. Lisa had already set up on Annabelle, pouncing on her like an animal. The witch's back slammed against the wall, and Lisa held fast to her wrists.

"W-what's happening?" screamed Annabelle, wriggling uselessly against Lisa. She tried to chant a magic spell, but Lisa headbutted her and pressed her wrists still harder into the wall. "How are you so strong?"

"You did this to me," Lisa growled. "Your curse got up in my brain, made me feel all kinds of things, things that weren't real. But it's still my brain, and I'm in control. It's over, Annabelle."

"I'll kill you! I'll turn you to ashes!" Annabelle shrieked.

"Pfft, I've seen your magic," Lisa said. "I remember how exhausted you were just shaving some hair. You're not that powerful, Annabelle. All you can do is trick people, do stuff to their minds. Nothing real, nothing lasting. And nothing we can't overcome."

"Shut up!"

"You saw me earlier, fully clothed," said Lisa. "I did that despite your fucking curse. You have no power over me, and you have no power over my friends!"

At this, Colin and Shelly rushed to Lisa's aid, grabbing the witch's legs. Lady Annabelle stood pressed against the wall, unable to move, her face contorted in rage.

"Now, where's that stake? Ah, thank you Shelly." Lisa released one of the witch's arms, twisted it behind her back, and took the stake that was handed to her. She brought her arm back, ready to strike.

Lady Annabelle screamed. She screamed loud and long, and the room around them began to turn strange colors. Glowing colored lines appeared in the air, all of them winding towards Annabelle.

There was a rush of air, and a thunderclap, like a vacuum filling, as all the magic in the room appeared to be sucked in Lady Annabelle. Her face went green, like she was about to puke, and her mouth fell open. A large ball of multicolored light floated out and hovered in the air for a moment, pulsing.

Then it exploded.

Bodies went flying. Lisa felt her back hit the side of the bed, and she slumped down. She heard Shelly and Colin groan. The room was full of smoke.

"A—are you guys okay?" Lisa asked.

"Yes," said Shelly, shakily.

"I'm—I can see!" Colin exclaimed. "I can see!"

The smoke cleared, and Lisa met Colin's gaze for the first time in weeks. His smile looked about to burst his cheeks. "Looking good, Lisa," he said. "You too, Shelly."

Shelly, sitting with her back against the witch's closet door, blushed and covered herself.

The smoke in the room dissipated slowly. It was thickest in the center, over the curled up body of a woman. Finally it parted to reveal a dumpy college girl with curly ginger hair, a few scraps of singed nightgown sticking to her freckled skin. She shivered in the cold and let out a low, pathetic whimper.

"Wendy," said Lisa.

Wendy pushed herself up with her arms and moved her head frantically. "It's so dark, and I can't move my legs! And, urgh, this is so hot!" She pulled the remnants of the nightgown from her body, then seemed to realize something. "Oh no."

Lisa smiled. "Welcome to my world."

Then Wendy disappeared.

"Whoa!" said Colin. "What the hell?!"

"I have a feeling I know where she is," said Lisa. "I think she just got all our curses. We'll check in on her back at campus."

Having neglected to bring an outfit of her own, Shelly put on a dress from the witch's closet. It fit perfectly, and felt completely normal. "We're cured, Lisa," she said, tears welling in her eyes.

Lisa hugged her, and beckoned Colin to join them. He wrapped his arm around both girls, against the silky fabric of the witch's dress and Lisa's bare back. They held the hug for a long time, profusely thanking each other for everything. The long nightmare was finally over.

The hug separated, and the three stood looking at each other. "Lisa," Shelly said, "you can get dressed again."

"Oh," Lisa replied, looking down at her skin, "yeah, I guess I can." She looked over at Colin. "But, since you've already undressed me, I thought we could celebrate." She took a step towards him, twirling a strand of hair around her finger, and glanced meaningfully at the witch's bed.

Colin's eyes looked about ready to pop out of his skull.

Shelly blushed and headed for the door. "I'll give you some privacy."

The door had barely clicked closed before Lisa's hands were on Colin's belt. "Now it's my turn."

* * *

Lisa was awoken by the sound of birds. Sunlight streamed into the room through a crack in the curtains. She blinked the sleep out of her eyes and glanced over at Colin, still sleeping beside her in the witch's bed. Lisa rubbed her hand on his back and slipped out from the luxurious covers.

The last few nights, in what already felt like a different lifetime, she'd slept atop a threadbare mattress with panties on, which she hurriedly removed in the morning before reporting for naked slave duty. This morning, for the first morning in forever, she could get dressed.

Her clothes were strewn around the room, still in the places where they'd landed when Annabelle had forced Shelly and Colin to strip her. She gathered them up and dumped them in the middle of the carpet. Then, after taking one last look at her strong, tanned body in the mirror, she put them on.

First came her panties. With a slight hesitation borne of the memories of her curse, Lisa stepped into them and slowly pulled them up. The fabric was soft against her skin. As it closed around her crotch, she braced herself for pain, but it didn't come. She was cured. For real this time. No more heat, no more claustrophobia, no more mind games. Everything was normal again.

Lisa's eyes grew misty as she clipped on her bra. The feeling of constriction on her chest was strange and unfamiliar after so long, but not unbearable in the way it had been before. It felt like it was supposed to, just a little uncomfortable.

Lisa pulled on her jeans next, and then her top. This time, she was able to focus on the feeling of fabric on skin that had been exposed for so long. It felt like waking up after a long, strange dream.

Finally, she pulled on her boots and sweater. She surveyed the final result in the mirror. The absence of skin was uncanny. It felt like she was looking at someone else's body with her head. She moved her arms and wiggled her hips, just to assure herself it was really her in the mirror.

Lisa exited the bedroom and proceeded down the hall. She walked normally, head held up, with no need to dart between cover or hide from onlookers. A long forgotten confidence returned to her with the knowledge that she could go anywhere and do anything without attracting undue attention. It was good to be normal.

She found Shelly in the witch's kitchen, making breakfast. Shelly had slept in the guest room, and was still wearing the dress from the night before. Her face lit up at the sight of Lisa, fully clothed.

"I love this, Shells," Lisa said, doing a quick twirl. "A gal could really get used to the feeling of fabric on her skin."

* * *

The girl who called herself Wendy sat cross-legged in the middle of her dorm room. The curtains were drawn, and an array of candles was arranged around her, casting flickering shadows. The smell of incense suffused the air.

A second girl stood in front of her, making upward motions with her arms. Between the two of them, a textbook hung suspended in midair.

"A little less jerky—yes, that's it. Now hold it there. Concentrate. Very good, Debra."

Debra kept her focus on the textbook she was levitating, but allowed the ends of her mouth to curl up in a slight smile. She had on a loose sundress.

Her mentor sat naked, with a large cushion underneath her butt. Her breasts bounced when she gesticulated to demonstrate spells to her student, which she hated. Although it had been months since that terrible day, she still couldn't stand to wear clothes for more than five minutes at a time.

Her eyesight was improving though. Through Wendy's glasses, she could make out the general shapes of things. And she was starting to regain feeling in her legs.

She couldn't do magic anymore, though, and she wasn't sure that would ever come back. Really, she was lucky to have survived such a concentrated magic implosion, and lucky that she was slowly recovering. Tutoring Lisa's witchling friend seemed to be helping.

Debra brought the book gently to the ground and waited for her next instruction. She was a good, fast learner. Annabelle was loathe to admit it, but Debra had the makings of a witch far more powerful than she had ever been. A witch able to make dents in reality itself, something she'd always battled with. Already, she was showing greater ability with teleportation than Annabelle ever had.

Annabelle glanced down at her body. It was a cruel joke, leaving her stuck in the form of this homely RA, with her fatty thighs, drooping tits, impossible curly hair, and all these freckles! "Wendy" was a character she'd invented solely to torment Lisa, and now she had become Wendy.

At least the body was young. That gave her time.

* * *

Her curse finally gone for good, Lisa returned to the life of an ordinary student. Despite having missed most of the semester's lectures, and being several weeks behind on her classes, she managed to catch up and do respectably well in her exams. Her lecturers were surprised at the sudden appearance of this eager, engaged and diligent lady. A few of them thought she was a transfer student.

The adjustment back to normal student life was successful, if a little dull. After everything Lisa had been through, returning to the humdrum world of studying, sitting around with friends, and going out, felt a little flat at times. She was happy, for the most part, and enjoyed making new friends and learning new things, all the while being just another normal student. Occasionally, she would recognize the face of an art student who she'd modeled for, and sometimes they'd recognize her too, but she looked quite different with clothes on.

It felt good to be able to blend into the crowd, to not have to sit in her room all the time, or furtively run around at night for fear of being seen. It felt good, when she was seen, to not become a spectacle. Of course she was still an object of attention, as an attractive young lady, but there was only so much to see with all her layers of clothing, especially as the winter rolled around.

Trudging through the snow one morning, boots crunch on the ground, coat tightly buttoned, and a thick scarf wound around her neck, Lisa was grateful for the ability to wear clothes, something she would never take for granted again.

Putting on, taking off and changing clothes became part of her life again. At first, it would take a long time, as she had become a cautious dresser, still waiting for her body to freak out at the last bit of clothing. But she got faster, and it soon became normal again.

Winter rolled into spring, and spring into summer. She continued to hang out with Shelly and Debra and Claire, and continued to see Colin. Her body, she told him one night, was now reserved for his eyes only.

But not every aspect of the curse had disappeared.

At the end of the academic year, Lisa returned home for the summer vacation. Her parents congratulated her on her academic achievements, and would remark to each other about how quickly she had grown up, how much she had matured in just a year.

One morning about a week into the vacation, they announced to Lisa that they would be holding a barbeque in the yard that afternoon. This had been planned for some time, but they'd forgotten to tell her about it earlier, and forgotten to even plan for it themselves. They needed her to mow the lawn and get everything ready for when the guests would start arriving, while they went to buy food and refreshments from the store. Lisa assured them she was up to the task.

As she heard the sound of her dad's car pulling out of the driveway, Lisa rushed into the backyard. After double-checking that none of the neighbors were in their yards, she pulled off her top and shorts, the only things she was wearing. Lisa then sprang into action, a tan streak racing the lawnmower across the yard.

An hour later, her parents returned, laden with shopping bags.

"Lisa, we're— wow!" Her mom stood slack-jawed, staring at the vista that had been their backyard.

"Tada!" Lisa said, motioning towards the cleanly cut grass; the neatened flower beds; the pile of neatly raked leaves in the corner; the chairs and tables all set up with table cloths; the barbeque, clean and ready to go; and even the lines of bunting she found in the shed and hung up.

"How'd you do all this so quickly?" her dad asked.

"Oh, nothing special," she replied, fingering the hem of her top. "Just raw talent, really."

The End