--------- The Week Begins ---------
Alice sipped her coffee as she recollected on the previous day's misfortune. Her ass still offered the occasional painful throb of protest after her meeting with Malone. The dryer continued its cycle as the last vestige of her alter-hooker-ego was being scrubbed away. She was still coming to grips with everything that had happened.
Her attempts at achieving a Zen-like state of inner peace was actively challenged by the crumpled note in front of her - Malone's list of tasks for her. Her gut urged her to rebel, but the throbbing lulled her into obedience. Her face shrunk to suppress a sob as she picked up the list. Alice grabbed her spare car keys and headed for the door. These events would not break her. She was being tested.
"Mom, where is the car?" her youngest son asked - startling Alice as she stepped out on the porch.
"Um.. wha... it was the strangest thing. It wouldn't start last night at the store. I took the bus," she stammered.
Her oldest stepped up onto the porch from the driveway. "The Bus!? Mom, you never do that! The people in that neighborhood. Why didn't you call us?" he stated with a light of concern in his face.
Alice thought to the list of characters she had met the night prior. She checked her pockets. "I guess I lost it. My phone.." she weakly answered.
"Mom, are you alright?" her youngest asked.
In a shameful reflex, her hands wrapped behind her back cupping her ass as she leaned against the house. "I'm ok. It has just been busy."
"Don't worry, Mom. God will reward you for your hard work. If anyone deserves it, it is you," her oldest preached with confirming nods from his brother.
With a small tear in her eye, she replied with a strained smile, "Yeah, you are right. Amen."
After dodging a half dozen offers of assistance from her sons, she was able to start the walk to the bus stop. Each step a reminder of the sinful pilgrimage she made during the previous evening. She exchanged neighborly waves and idle chit chat with the usual suspects wondering if anyone had seen her come last night. She couldn't remember. It had all become a blur.
The bus was timely. As she fed in her money, she noticed the driver was staring at her.
"I'm sorry. Am I doing this wrong?" she asked nervously.
"Oh... no, I'm sorry," the driver said shaking his head. "You just look like someone I saw last night," he added.
Alice froze.
"But you clearly aren't her," he smiled, "I hope you have a wonderful day, ma'am."
Alice tried her best to return the smile. She wasn't sure how good of a job she was doing. With her cheeks burning, she searched each strangers face for any additional glimmers of recognition and thankfully found none. She would be fine. She even risked a small smile as she took her seat. The bus pulled away from the curb heading into the city.
The car was as she had left it the night before - with one major difference. There was someone sitting in the driver's seat. Not just someone - she recognized this person. It was the mean prostitute she had met at the bus stop - Carmen.
"Excuse me, this is my car. What are you doing!?" Alice demanded.
"Oh, new fish - I was wondering when your shift started," Carmen answered. "I hope you don't mind that I borrowed your home office to conduct some business," she added with a big smile as she exited the vehicle.
"I am not a hooker! Leave me and my stuff alone," Alice stated.
"Yeah, sure. I used to tell people that too," Carmen replied before heading towards the bus stop.
Alice scowled at Carmen's back as she walked away. Who was she to judge her? She was a sinner. She was a dirty prostitute. She had nothing in common with her. Alice balled up her fists until she felt she had convinced herself of that.
The car looked fine. Carmen didn't seem to have stolen anything. Alice smiled to herself as she remarked that the tape deck radio was still there. Alice pulled the key from her pocket and reached for her sunglasses in the glove box. As she leaned over, her hand felt something wet on the passenger seat.
Alice froze and looked down in confusion. The passenger seat had about half a dozen little balloons. Some looked crusty, while others appeared a little slimy. Her mind raced as she tried to determine what these were. She picked one up for a closer look. Drugs? Did that bitch leave some drugs in her car? Alice was furious. She would pay for this - she would call the police. Wait, no.
Alice felt the bile climb her throat as the realization came to the front of her mind. Her eye caught a glimpse of a couple more lying on the backseat. Carmen had used her car for business - not pleasure. These were used condoms. That slut had sucked and fucked strangers in her car - probably all night. The bitch had then purposely left these for her.
Alice retched out the driver's side door onto the pavement.
--------- Errand 1 - The Concubine's New Clothes ---------
Alice's station wagon rolled to a stop across the street from "Damaged Goods" the lingerie store that Malone had sent her to. Alice wondered if the green neon of the second "O" being burned out was a sign of its own. She hoped not as she opened the door.
Alice had never been inside this store before. It had a reputation of being a resource for what she would describe as "sinful" women - strippers, escorts, and prostitutes. As she stood inside, her mind struggled to process the goods on sale before her. Fishnet, leather, and latex filled aisle after aisle with a couple aisles at the back dominated by boots and heels. Closest to her was a table of thongs and g-strings of various colors. Alice could not imagine that these covered anything at all. The prices in no way matched the amount of material alone she would be purchasing. Her mild embarrassment was interrupted by a salesperson appearing at her side.
"Hello Miss, welcome to Damaged Goods. Is there anything I can help you with?" the man asked. His name badge read - Derek.
"Hello... um, Derek. Steve Malone sent me here for Vincent. I'm starting a fan club?" she stammered blushing.
A small smile developed on Derek's face as he said, "Ah, an OnlyFans? Malone? You are in good hands. Vincent is in the back." Derek headed to the back of the store. Alice felt herself pulled into near orbit following him back.
Passing through a rear door, Alice trailed Derek into the stocking area for the store. Vincent sat in front of a small sewing machine working a custom order as a radio played a smooth jazz tune. His little alcove was bordered on either side by racks of outfits. Alice recognized Nuns, Nurses, Police Officers, and many more. Each outfit would probably not fit the uniform regulations of their indicated profession. Derek leaned to his ear and whispered.
Growing impatient, Alice stepped forward to speak. However, the sound of approaching footsteps startled her. If the name tags were an indication, two other sales staff had joined them. They each eyed Alice with a certain level of perverse interest that Alice found uncomfortable.
"So, this is Malone's latest little project, Hmm," Vincent offered with a legendary late night radio voice.
Derek and his coworkers whispered amongst themselves as if watching a play. Alice felt her a lump start to form in the pit of her stomach. She didn't like her position as each second passed. This is business. Let's get this over with.
"He..llo, I'm looking - Are you Vincent?" Alice stammered.
"Oh, you know it, Baby," Vincent answered with a big smile. "Welcome to the Dreamweaver..." he laughed as he looked around the racks of custom outfits with a sense of pride.
His work was clearly masterful. Each outfit far exceeded anything Alice had seen at the mall or local Walmart. If it wasn't for the clear purpose of these outfits, Alice might have offered admiration. However, Alice only saw smut - this man was just another sinner.
"Malone made some recommendations. I'm making the finishing touches on your order now," Vincent beamed as he approached. With a calculated stare and a couple soft passes of his hands, he continued, "Now, we just need to fit them." He motioned to a set of three of mirrors in the corner.
Derek appeared at her side holding the first outfit. Alice recognized the motifs as a Catholic school girl uniform but with a sinful twist. The old nuns would never have approved of this. Alice looked around at the leering eyes while carefully clawing through the set of clothes - a black thong with matching cup-less bra, plaid skirt that would barely cover her butt, thigh high fishnet stockings, and a cutoff button down shift that would show plenty of mid-drift.
"Where can I change?" she asked the room.
"Oh, we are going to be fast friends - nothing to worry about. Discretion is our motto here," Vincent quipped.
Alice's cheeks flushed as she understood the expectation was for her to change in front of the room. Some of these men were barely older than her sons. As she was about to voice her protest, she wondered if this was Malone's intent. What would he do to her if she refused? As if timed with her dilemma, she felt a couple waves of pain resonated from her healing anus. She would behave. She had to behave.
She changed as modestly as she could. One of the nameless associates brought her a pair of way-to-high heels. Alice could barely balance, but the size was perfect. Vincent had her slowly spin in front of the mirrors, while taking small notes and marking the fabric. He spoke little. This left Alice in silence staring at her reflection in the mirror. She wondered how many other women had ended up in this back room.
The next outfit, if it could be called that, was mostly a collection of straps. It covered nothing. Vincent mentioned its popularity amongst BDSM clubs. It provided no support leaving her breasts to noticeably sag. She averted her eyes only to notice the drooling stares of the men behind her. They were enjoying this. She watched a few of them subconsciously rub themselves. She compared her situation to a stripper at a local club. The shame was almost overwhelming, but she managed to maintain her composure.
As the next outfit materialized in her hands, Alice realized the straps weren't too bad. She was told this was a bikini. Alice briefly thought back to the last time she had seen the beach or even a pool. She wondered if she even still owned a normal bathing suit. She doubted it. The thong barely had a postage stamp of fabric to cover her. The top seemed to only be meant to cover her nipples. She struggled to get everything in place as Vincent tightened the strings to fit her curves. Her reflection improved, but not by much. Alice was nude - at least that is how she saw it. The realization let a small whimper escape.
"Awww, momma wouldn't be proud of her daughter becoming a star?" Vincent growled.
