You wake up to a supposed gift.

You're not sure how long you were laying there before someone shakes you awake.

"Hey, wake up!"
You sit up with a start.
Next to you, Al (the man you met this morning) has a hand on your shoulder.
Groggily, you say, "What? What time is it?"
Al replies with, "I'm, uh, not supposed to tell you that."
"You fuckin' serious?" You say.
"Yeah. Sorry." He says.
You stand up, pulling your wayward hair out of your face and straightening it the best you can.
"So, what's up man? Jake needs his balls drained, I'm guessing?"
Al says, "Not exactly..."
"What, then? What else could he possibly want from me?"
He just says, "You'll see."

You make your way to the living room, where Jake is lounging in his blowjob chair, sipping on a glass of something amber. He's dressed down, only in an unbuttoned white shirt and a pair of boxer shorts. Al followed behind you, waiting in a doorway some distance away.
"What do you want, man?" You say to him.
He gives you that shark-style smile and says, "Oh, nothing much. I got you something."
You look at him with skepticism. "Really. You bought me something?"
"Yes, I did." He gestures to the couch, which has several pieces of clothing draped over it.
Theirs's a button up shirt with a striking floral pattern, a plaid-patterned pleated skirt, a lacy garter belt and a pair of sheer stockings. Notably, there is nothing here that could cover up access to your pussy.
You lift up the garter belt, saying, "You want me to wear this shit?"
"I do. You wanted something to wear. So, I got you something. It's better than you rooting around in my closet."
"C'mon man! This may be the sluttiest thing I've ever seen in my life."
"Yes. And I very much want to see you wearing it."

Not having much say in the matter, you put on the outfit.
The shit is getting old, you think, as you pull the shirt over your shoulders. You leave it unbuttoned, thinking that he's just going to want to grope your tits anyway. The stockings roll up your slender legs without much trouble. The garter gives you a bit of grief, but you manage to figure it out and clip it to your stockings. Lastly, you do up the skirt and stand up in front of Jake.
"Well? What do you think?"
He makes a gesture to Al, saying, "Al, bring out that big mirror from the fitting room, if you would. Then you can leave us alone for the night. If I need anything else, I'll call you."
Al just says, "Certainly, Sir." and takes off.
Jake says "Turn around for me." and you do.
Behind you, you hear him set down his glass on a side-table and stand up. He reaches toward you and grabs at your hair, pulling it out from underneath your shirt. His hands linger near your neck for much longer than you like.
Al returns with a mirror that's as tall as you are and sets it down in front of the both of you. You match eyes with him as he leaves the room. You can't place the expression on his face. Is it pity, or jealousy? You don't know the man enough to know.