Scrooge

"Ooh!" Clara said.

She hurried ahead over to a surprisingly large house, a distinctive knocker glimmering slightly. At first glance it seemed like a solid metal lion's head, but there was a faint mist around it, hint of some other features surrounding it.

"How well do you know your Dickens?" Clara said. "Ghost in a knocker. Rings a bell. Let's see..."

While she sonicked the door, Rose nervously stumbled closer, keeping to the side of the street. In lieu of being able to cover up with her arms, she hunched over near the house, still whimpering at the sound of more Victorians enjoying the view of her behind.

The door slowly swung open. Clara grinned, glancing back at Rose.

"Can we go in?" Rosa said, voice high.

"In a rush?" Clara teased.

Rose faltered. "O-only if you want me to be," she said.

She squeaked. She'd never be used to how things like that kept slipping out of her mouth. Worse still, how little she minded it. Rose's cheeks burned.

Smirking, Clara danced over the threshold, and paused, leaving Rose outside on the doorstep. The blonde waited, fidgeting a little, flushed and uncovered. Clara eyed her for a moment more.

"Give us a twirl," Clara said.

Rose yelped, but obeyed, flashing her tits to the Victorians for a moment too. The moment she was done Clara stepped back, letting her dart inside and shut the door behind her.

Rose faltered on the doormat, fidgeting, apparently oblivious to how much more appealing the constant motion made her tits look. Clara smirked; somehow she had the feeling this was going to be a lot of fun.

"Is it bad that I kinda like this?" Clara said. "You all embarrassed, and still happy to go along with what I say. Bit of a power trip. Probably says something about me. Ah well."

Rose whimpered.

"Hm? Whose voice is that?" a voice echoed suddenly.

A man's, slightly pinched, slightly hoarse; Rose yelped, while Clara just grinned. A second later and a figure in a nightcap walked out of a doorway, suddenly hesitating at what was, to say the least, an unexpected sight.

Clara clad in very non-Victorian clothes, and Rose in nothing but the collar. Clara rested a hand on her bare shoulder, still smiling. Rose just whimpered.

"Ebenezer Scrooge, right?" Clara said.

"What are you doing in my house?!" he said.

"Oh, don't mind us, just ghosts," Clara said. "You'll be seeing a few of us tonight. Three, ooh, four if Marley hasn't popped by yet. No big deal."

Scrooge hesitated. This was the Land of Fiction after all, expecting ghosts was part of his writing.

"You're... ghosts," he said slowly.

"Yup," Clara said brightly. She patted Rose's shoulder; the blonde blushed.

"A... naked ghost," he said. His gaze drifted to Rose, who squirmed again.

"Oh, yeah, well," Clara shrugged. "You know what they say, can't take it with you and all that. Mind if we just chill for a bit?"

"Your words are strange, spirit," Scrooge said. "If that is what you are, which I doubt. Your countenance may be pleasing, but I do not welcome beggars! Particularly ones who cannot even afford clothes."

"Oh, no, this is by choice," Clara said. She patted Rose's shoulder again, before her hand skated down Rose's bare back. "Tell the nice man."

Rose squeaked.

"I- I don't want to get dressed," Rose said, blushing.

She hated how true that was, how true it became the moment Clara said. This was still beyond humiliating, but somehow the prospect of getting dressed was worse.

Scrooge hesitated; Rose whimpered. After a moment, and a bit more staring, he merely scoffed and turned around, returning to his narrative.

"I expect to see nothing stolen!" he said.

"Oh, no worries," Clara said. "Sweet dreams!"

Her hand moved from Rose's ass to her hand, skipping happily into Scrooge's sitting room. It was cold, the miser not wanting to waste money on heating, but she was still enjoying herself.

It was a dream come true. Several, in fact. On one hand she could gallivant around all manner of famous literature, and on the other she had a rather cute girl wandering around utterly naked and obeying her. What wasn't there to like?

Clara sat down, then patted her lap. Blushing, Rose moved over, sitting on Clara's lip, letting Clara orient her so that she got the best view possible, from rather close range. Cheeks burning, Rose let the other woman take in the sight of her pussy, her tits, her bare ass squirming against her lap...

"Wh-why are we here?" Rose said, breathless.

"Oh come on, Christmas Carol? It's a classic," Clara said.

"You're just here for the book?" Rose said.

"Oh, no," Clara said. "Curious about a couple of things. Just waiting for- ooh, there we go!"

The unlit fireplace suddenly burst into green flame. Clara grinned, hopping up as she gestured for Rose to do the same; the nude blonde followed her upstairs.

"Hey!" Clara said. "Casper! Ghostie! Christmas Past, right? Can we borrow you?"

Rose yelped as a spirit suddenly passed through the door. A slightly androgynous figure, its voice was more feminine, a blinding light emanating from its head. The grand entrance aside, the blinding light that formed from nothing, it seemed bewildered.

"Uh..." the Ghost of Christmas Past said.

"Just passing through," Clara said. "And no offense, you're not my priority, mostly here for the others, but may as well go for everyone. See my friend here? Could I tag along while you work your mojo with her?"

"This... isn't how it usually works," the Ghost said.

"Yeah, yeah," Clara said. "You must be bored. I just want to see her naked to be honest. Can you work anything out?"

The Ghost hesitated; Rose squeaked, nervously shifting on the spot.

Somehow she'd guessed that Clara's idea of entertainment just meant more exposure.