The Curse

"N-no. I'm sorry..but I already have an idea of what to do with myself." This was an obvious lie, but you were trying to be as polite as possible.
"Errm..okay, but if you have a change of heart then, here.." He hands you a card with contact details on it. You nod and walk off into the street, holding the blanket around yourself. Inside, you are hoping that the stranger doesn't ask for it back, but what kind of sick person would leave a teenage girl, naked, out on the street. The man merely walks off in the other direction, he knows you've had enough.

Men, women and children, constantly walking back and fourth, many keeping their distance from you, as if you were infectious. You assume this is due to, the only cloth between them and your most private parts is a wool blanket. The only humans that dare walk within a metre of you, are a few middle-aged men, randy at the thought of the checked cover falling off your body. A couple of the perverted males that stroll by even pinch your ass. You whine at each little nip and eventually train yourself to pick out the soon-to-be offenders and avoid them. Then, the headaches come back.

You hold your head, tight, and fall to the ground, allowing your only protector of your dignity to gently drift to the damp pave stones below. Mothers cover their children's eyes as your swollen chest is revealed, keeping your legs close together to hide your 'main attraction'. Men approach you trying to help, but with the clear intent of seeing your incredible being. The images from before appear and this time, you feel pulled towards them, as if guided, but you fight it and eventually come to. As one of the adults picks up your blanket and holds it against you, he makes sure he gets a firm hold of your wonderful orbs too. You slap his hand and stand.
"Pervert!" You have the urge slap him once more, this time across the face, but think against it and walk away. You have grown some of a spine, though, yelling at him in public. You need to find somewhere to go, but first, CLOTHES! Perhaps, one of these perverts could lend you money for them and by 'lend' in mean 'give'.
"P-p-plleeasse can I have a little bit of money to get me some sweet little clothes?" You ask in the sweetest, most adorable tone any living being has ever heard.
"S-sure." A man with thick, round glasses answers. He pulls out his wallet and hands over multiple notes.
"This guy must be loaded." You think as he empties at least a hundred pounds into your hands. "..And desperate." You chuckle to yourself and thank him for the generous sum of money he just gave you. You then make haste and head for the shops.

As you lay your hand on the cold, metal handle of the shop door, your head pounds for the..I lost count, but it sure as hell hurts. You lean against the door, trying to keep yourself up, but it opens and you fall, ending up in a pile on the floor, clasping your forehead, screaming.
"Oh...God..Someone...make it stop.." You whimper. Then the girl materializes before you.
"Follow me." She tells you, beckoning you.