The Daily (Coffee) Grind

Unfortunately, like so many other cursed souls, Dawn needs money to survive. Black eyeliner doesn't buy itself. Perhaps there's a spell to help with that particular problem... But she got perverted ghost hands instead.

And so, having used up all of her time off, Dawn had little other options than to risk it. She woke up the following day. Showered, ate breakfast, meticulously applied the make-up that helped with her spooky aesthetic, and dressed in her outfit for the day.

Then she stood. In the center of the living room. She stood still and waited.

It wasn't immediate, but it didn't take long, either. The hands appeared, and as they so loved to do, they began helping themselves to her clothes.

Dawn never noticed any real... Personality to them. That is to say, they never seemed to linger, or enjoy the activity. They were very methodical. Very efficient.

They worked from the top down this time; First her shirt. Up over her head, quickly, but not in a manner that would hurt. Her lacy black bra followed, along with any jewelry she'd been wearing.

Her boots came next. Socks. Then, they carefully eased her tight black jeans down her legs, followed by her thong. Dawn complied. She moved when needed, never protested, never squirmed.

Her clothes were whisked away, leaving the goth standing butt naked in her living room. She waited a minute. Then placed her hands on her hips, and spoke to the open air.

"Alright. You undressed me. Feel good? Everyone satisfied?" She asked her empty apartment. She waited another moment, then stepped forward. "That-- Was a freebie. Something to hold you over until I get home. Which means STAY. HERE. Understood?"

Of course, there was no response. It'd be nice if Dawn could teach these hands to... Clap, or knock on the wall to show acknowledgement... But teaching them NOT to strip her should take priority.

With a sigh, she returned to her room, where her clothes had been dutifully returned, and dressed for work. Again. And after an admittedly nervous moment, she left the house.

"DAWNIE! Welcome back!"

Cindy's voice cut through the air like a knife, making Dawn wince as she walked into the coffee shop. Her coworker. And best friend, if you were to ask Cindy. Dawn would never agree.

Your typical ditzy blonde, with the personality of a golden retriever and tits bigger than her head. Dawn couldn't stand her. Or that nickname.

"Don't call me that."

"How was your vacay?!" Cindy pressed, as Dawn clocked in for her shift.

"... Revealing."

With that, Dawn began ringing up the first of countless coffee orders.