Above It All

The Ten Pines Mall was a place where bad business ideas went to die. The business case was that just off a major freeway with a huge car park, the mall would be the easiest thing in the world to drive to and park. Unfortunately it was built in the middle of one of the most remote parts of South Carolina, nobody wanted to drive hours on the freeway for a mall with very similar shops to an average town high street. It closed five years after it opened, a glass and concrete monolith proclaiming the folly of hubristic spending assumptions from investors who'd never set foot in South Carolina.

When the mall went under, it bounced from one investor to another, each time the pattern was the same, they'd be thrilled that they managed to get a great location for their new conference centre/holiday resort/cineplex, and at such a cheap price as well. Then every time the cost of refurbishment would hit home and business analysts would come in to tell their bosses what a toxic investment it was, it would be sold on at another loss to another suit looking for a location for their pet project.

The most recent investor to go under at least had the stamina to convert a large section of the mall to fancy apartments before they went bankrupt. It seemed the only business able to thrive in the area was Grimsdottir and Skrive, the bankruptcy attorneys earning a sweet commission every time they sold the building yet again.

Hilda Grimsdottir resented her dad using his

connections to secure her a house in the hastily converted housing corner of the mall. Sure she now outright owned a two bedroom apartment that used to be a ski shop and staff room, but the money she saved on rent or a mortgage, she lost on petrol spending half her life driving to Big Mike's, the biker bar she worked at. Even more than that she hated putting down roots in a part of South Carolina she had always been determined to move away from. Now she had an unsellable apartment tethering her to a land of parental disapproval at her lack of "success" (which meant living her life exactly how they wanted), not to mention the locals treating her like a raving maniac for daring to have purple hair in a pixie cut, punk rock clothes that didn't fit the little house on the prairie look they wanted girls of her age to have, and headstrong attitude that didn't fit the little house on the prairie submission they wanted girls of her age to have.

Because of this Hilda spent a lot of time at home watching TV on her off days. One day when her internet went down and she found herself behind the TV fiddling with the tangle of wires that included the ethernet cable, she leant a bit hard on the wall and felt a section fall away under her weight. As she brushed herself off and straightened up, she found herself looking out into the echoing darkness of an abandoned mall.

Hilda stayed silent, she was excited at the prospect of exploring and didn't want any potential security guards or other residents to spoil it too early. As she wandered from one large liminal space to another, illuminating her walk with the torch in her phone, she worked out that she was truly alone here. The legal limbo of bankruptcy and ownership disputes meant the building had no organisation willing to pay for even the most basic security presence, and every other house that had been Frankensteined from the building had walls that were still intact. As she went from one darkened room to the next, she eventually hit upon a mesmerising discovery.

The room was a swirl of churning lights from the cars underneath, it was a glass box dangling appetisingly over the freeway. Originally designed for a car dealership to park their most appealing cars to advertise both their fabulous prices and the glamour of the mall at the next turning, it now stood empty as Hilda walked in and floated above the busy world. The hum of traffic bustling beneath her feet as she serenely sat cross-legged and marvelled at the oasis she had found.

Five minutes later she dropped her serenity as she had just thought of a great way to make some money.

...

Hilda couldn't believe she'd been paid a grand just to put up a large banner advertising a crypto currency website in the glass room above the freeway for a week. More crazy, it seemed to be a lowball offer because they were taking a risk investing in an ad opportunity they found in a random forum post online, with Hilda's pictures from her phone the only proof of her claims that she could perform the task she had been paid for.

Hilda had decided to be extra cautious just in case. She had the banner sent to one of the lobby postboxes for an apartment Hilda knew was unoccupied and the company's crypto systems were used to indirectly pay her. She even wore a beanie hat, some sunglasses and a face mask as she unfurled the banner up against the glass just before heading to work. As she drove past it on the freeway, it was visible and prominent, she was certain her paymasters would be happy with the result.

When she got back home after a shift at the bar, her inbox had exploded with offers to use the space from previously sceptical businesses.

...

For the next couple of weeks Hilda had no scruples in deciding what was in the freeway room, she simply put whatever the highest bidder wanted up there. After the crypto site the next ad was for an online vape shop, then for a dating website.

As the room became more established, so to did the adverts evolve. A music festival actually sent her over a cardboard stage and disco lights that she was allowed to keep after their ad period was over. Despite all this there was one rule Hilda kept to; no matter what, she was the only one who could go in that room. After all, her method of access was the thing these places were buying, if she let their technicians or marketing bods come over to set it up themselves, it would be inevitable that they would try to cut her out. She also starting putting bike locks on the three separate doorways someone would need to walk through to get to the room.

This is why she was so conflicted when she got her largest offer ever from a gambling website, Lucky Rabbit Games, but on the condition that a model dressed as a lucky rabbit be allowed to stand in the booth for three of the days waving at cars. As always Hilda asked if the model would be a deal-breaker, and the website said that without a model there was no deal.

Hilda, desperate to salvage the deal and get the huge payday, made an offer in haste that she would later regret.

'Add a model's salary to the fee and I could do it.' She replied, hitting send on the email before her mind could jump in with what she had just offered. The website was obviously also interested in salvaging this advertising idea and replied with.

'Maybe, the model was going to be in a rabbit mask so looks aren't that important. However they were also going to be wearing a revealing outfit. If you have the body for it we would be willing to bend. Please send us some current pictures of you in your underwear and confirm you would be comfortable in this role and we'll make a decision from there.'

Hilda's stomach let out a little gurgle of nerves as she weighed the offer. She had never been ashamed of her body, and the comments of the patrons at the bar regularly strayed into horny compliments so she certainly knew she would be able to impress the marketing guy she was emailing with. (If she didn't have the body, the kind of bikers who frequented Big Mike's would certainly let her know.) But the thought of modelling, standing in that booth and showing off her body to passing cars, was a whole different matter. She had never been the type to show off and smile, the cheerleaders at her school more commonly the target of her hatred and ridicule than envy.

Her attitude swayed wildly, one moment she was telling herself the money was far better than the next best offer and maybe it would be a bit of fun, the next it was crazy and she didn't want people lusting over her as she showed some skin for their benefit like some exhibitionist bimbo.

Hilda stripped down to her underwear in front of a mirror and admired herself, she turned and twisted to look at her body from all angles and smiled, it had been a long time since she had last slept with someone. It had been a terrible experience with a particularly clingy biker girl which made her swear off sleeping with bar patrons. As bar patrons were the only new people she met, this pretty much hit pause on her sex life.

She then stripped off her underwear and admired what was beneath, her body was pretty well toned from poverty food portion sizes and being on her feet several hours a day serving beers. If she took this offer she knew she would have to shave her legs, armpits, and at least a large part of her pubis. Her stomach was in proportion, but she felt it could be more toned and resolved to start doing some sort of core exercise routine. The brown roots were as much a part of her hair as the purple dye applied months ago, she'd have to grab some more bleach and dye.

As she continued to look herself over, a bolt of revelation struck Hilda. Ever since she had moved into her new apartment, she had stopped caring about a lot in her life, feeling stuck had taken away her passion to do pretty much anything. But ever since she discovered this ad space, she had felt less trapped. With this new purpose had actually grown the resolve to do something with her life. It became clear as she was looking in the mirror and making all these plans that they weren't idle suggestions that she would inevitably not follow through on, she was genuinely in the mood to work on herself. So she decided whatever this business venture was doing could only be good for her, and she needed to jump in with both feet.

Later that day, before she headed to work, Hilda took a diversion to a nearby town to go shopping. She had a nice store of savings from her ad revenue so didn't hesitate to buy an epilator, various skin creams, some exercise equipment, and some new hair dye. Upon reflection she also decided to get herself a blonde wig, as her signature purple hair would probably give away her identity pretty quickly if anyone was looking into her scheme.

Next she had to drive an extra hour out of her way to visit a shop that sold lingerie, figuring if the gambling company wanted a picture of her body in underwear, she might as well put her best foot forward on that front. She ended up surprising herself with the sheer variety of sexy underwear she ended up loading into her car boot, hoping nobody broke in and saw what she had during her shift at the Big Mike's that night.

...

Hilda's feet ached as she stepped back into her house, her shift seemed to last forever with her mind firmly on her plans for afterwards. She was tired, but she knew she wouldn't get a wink of sleep if she didn't do everything she had planned in her mind first.

Hilda followed the epilator instructions to the letter, exfoliating her skin before running the device over her and gritting her teeth as it mechanically removed all her body hair. She trimmed her pubic hair right back and epilated the outskirts but left a little tuft to give her vagina some definition. Next she showered, moisturised, and generally washed off the day's filth so she would feel ready to try on some lingerie.

Hilda spent more time than was prudent running her hands up and down her newly soft and smooth skin, before she turned to her shopping. One by one she tried on every naughty piece and lacy number, each time thrilled at what she saw in the mirror. Eventually she had to make the agonising choice of which one she would use for her photos.

For starters Hilda needed the right bra to go with her breasts. They were sizable but slender and pointy, earning her the nicknanes banana boobs and torpedo tits at various times in the bar. The matching panties would have to be just right for her toned bottom and untoned stomach. Then there was the question of how much she wanted to cover considering she was meant to be showing off her body. Would suspenders help or hinder her chances? How about high heels which would be very flattering on her legs and ass but out of place if she wasn't wearing much?

Eventually she came to a conclusion, she went with the half cup lacy red bra, showing off ample cleavage while allowing her bust to jut out as far from her body as physics would allow, paired with the matching red lace skinny hipsters. In the end she also decided against high heels as the only ones she owned were left over from her prom years ago.

Hilda started taking photos, firstly unposed, just giving an impression of what her body looked like. Then she started getting naughty angles, she'd bend and contort to bring out the sexiness of the situation until her phone filled up with her lavicious photoshoot. She chose the best photos where you couldn't see her face and hair to send off to the marketing men, then surprised herself by spending the rest of the morning playing with herself under the covers until she fell asleep in the afterglow of her orgasms. This was not the person Hilda thought she was, but her content sleep and kinky dreams seemed to disagree.

...

Hilda stared at the outfit Lucky Rabbit Games had sent over with the ad materials, then stared at it again. She couldn't believe what she was holding, she couldn't believe every part of the path that led to this moment.

She couldn't believe that a woman whose first unsupervised clothes purchase was baggy jeans, a rude band t-shirt, and a chrome studded leather belt would want to be seen in lingerie so badly. She couldn't believe a woman who at age of 13 once told an arch-bishop go fuck himself would hold her tongue as some distant marketing department criticised every minute flaw in photos of her body. She certainly couldn't believe that a bartender who once stared down a leader of a biker gang until he caved and agreed to pay for the damage he did to the pool table, had been so desperate to follow through on this deal that not only did she agree to waive the modelling fee, but also gave them a discount to compensate for her body being not quite 'up to Lucky Rabbit Games brand standards.'

Hilda was certain how she was seen by the marketing department was also reflected in their choice of outfit for her. She knew the lingerie would be on the theme of "Lucky Rabbit" (which didn't make sense as it was the foot that was lucky not the whole rabbit, but this was yet another thing Hilda held her tongue about.) She was expecting something that mostly ripped off a playboy bunny outfit (in fact that is exactly what the marketing department originally had in mind until they figured they could get away with sending her something more scandalous.)

She turned the small white bra over in her hands, the lace trim with red bows framing cups of a fine stretchy mesh that became less opaque the more Hilda stretched them over her hands. The matching high waist knickers similarly trimmed and with a red bow on above her pubis. The fine fabric barely covering her modesty before narrowing significantly to ensure her bottom was pretty much uncovered except for the small of her back where a white tufty bunny tail puffed out.

They had also sent over a white garter belt that connected to fine white stockings, wrist cuffs, and a collar, all trimmed with the same matching white lace trim and red ribbon bows. Finally they had provided clear platform heels that Hilda was very uncertain she would be able to gracefully move around in.

Hilda put the outfit out of her mind as she set out in the middle of the night to set up the rest of the advert, a large cardboard construction of a roulette wheel built at an angle facing the road with a sign above it for the promotion and branding. She marvelled that despite such a complex construction she moved through it smoothly with ease, the previous ad campaigns of the room giving her more and more skill at these sorts of rudimentary building projects.

Once done she went to bed and set her alarm for 4pm, the contract stated she had to pose next to the roulette wheel and wave to traffic between 5pm and 6pm the next day.

She awoke to her alarm, she had deliberately only given herself enough time to put on her outfit and head to her station, no wiggle room to think and for doubts to creep in. She stood in front of the mirror the entire time, watching her work uniform come together. As she suspected when she stretched the bra over her breasts, the darker tone of her nipples became just about visible through the weave. She pulled on the knickers, as she was not usually comfortable with thongs it took her some time to get used to the fabric delving into her buttcrack, time she spent staring at the clear dark shadow of her pubic hair visible through the fabric. She briefly wondered if she should shave her pussy completely, but eventually decided there wasn't enough time to do a good job of it.

The cuffs and accessories went on without a fuss and soon she stood in-front of her mirror, agape and willing herself on to the next part of this insane scheme. She put on her wig, then her rabbit mask and gawped at the totally different woman staring at her. She was Hilda Grimsdottir, angry punk girl who once sabotaged a building site at night because one of the builders made fun of her wearing a leather jacket on a hot summer's day. The reflection looking back at her was a smiling model in a borderline pornographic outfit getting ready to smile and wave at cars.

She took a step away from the mirror.

She paused.

Every step was agonisingly filled with indecision, but the clock on her microwave flickered in the corner with a reminder she didn't have time for this.

In the end she decided to quickly throw some comfortable shoes, baggy trousers, and t-shirt into her backpack as well as her phone, wallet and keys so she had what she needed for a quick retreat. Then she climbed behind her TV and into the abandoned mall.

Hilda's heart was thundering in her chest as she heard the sound of her unsteady heels clicking against the commercial tile floors and echoing into the darkness. Every step reminded her of the outfit she had chosen to put on and the thought of soon being seen in it. She pictured people hiding in the darkness, wondering what this crazy girl was up to venturing through their domain in lingerie, and embraced the sinister fantasy until she was at the door to the fabled car showroom that she had converted into advertising space. The key to the bike lock across the door shook in Hilda's hands until she was able to shove it into the lock and open the door.

Daylight flowed over Hilda's body as she looked out over the room, the faint roar of car engines seemed to reverberate through her body. She took a deep breath, plastered a smile across her face and strode forward as confidently as she could on unfamiliar heels. She leant against the cardboard roulette table structure, partly to convey the look of a glamorous casino showgirl, partly for support as her heels were unsteady and the reality of the situation was making her knees weak.

Hilda glanced down at the cars below her and a little shriek escaped her mouth. Cars were zooming beneath her, in each one that passed Hilda would see their eyes glance upwards as she posed and waved at them. At one point a car excitedly blared its horn so Hilda blew them a kiss, laughing at the attention she was getting. After a bit of time Hilda began to wonder how long had passed and how much longer she had to do this for, then she realised the only clock she had was on her phone. As she turned around to quickly go grab her phone, she could have sworn she heard tires screeching on the road below, the sound reminding her the public could pretty much see her whole bottom.