Habit To Heels Chapter 8

Dimes/ Scratchy Radio

Tara places 2 dimes in the payphone around the corner from her apartment.

"411 operator." Scratchy, barely audible over the rush of the Grand River.

A nun trying to be coy while on the street replies. "Yes operator, the number for Bonita's Spice Sweet Spice."

Still hard to hear, Tara hunches toward the pay phone, and cups the receiver end with her hand. Repeating herself. "Yes, that's Bonita's Spice Sweet Spice." Long pause listening. "I'm not sure the club or general number, hmm."

Rolling her eyes. "General please."

Her habit and veil fluttering in the cold winter breeze, two more dimes and dialing fingers almost numb dialing. "I'm calling about the amateur night... for dancing."

Looking over her shoulder in the street. "Yes, yes, Ahha. Wednesday's at 10:00 pm. $250.00.  Any rules?" Shaking her head. "No, I would never do that. No, I'll behave." Snickering. "I can wear whatever I want. Thanks for the info." Hangs up.

Warming her hands with her breath, another 2 dimes. Again dialing 411. "Yes operator, the number for Gold Ave. Exercise."

Another two dimes were additionally dialing, rewarming her hands with her breath. "Yes, Gold Ave. Exercise. Do you have an instructor named Dab? Does she teach a dance class? Um yes. Yes. Humm, I guess that's the one." Listening to the response. "They teach how to spin on a pole? Humm, I guess that's the one. OK, what time? Do I need to leave my name, or show up?" Pause nodding. "Thank you got it."

A few days later, Tara enters the small dance studio. In the dressing room, she puts on her one-piece sleeveless powder blue leotard. Over on the far side of the exercise room, there are 2 brass stripper poles reaching floor to ceiling. The nun becomes trance-like, as the inanimate objects toy with her imagination and bekon to her.

There are five other girls in the class. Some of the girls are wearing dance leotards. Two are wearing just panties and bras. 'This is not my usual crowd.' Tara spots Dollya, in the corner tying her shoes. Dollya has even less on, just a thong and an exercise bra. Does this girl ever wear clothing?

"Tara?" Dollya recognizes her. "From Taylor's studio." Scanning her new student. "I thought I might see you again. Nice outfit."

Tara, embarrassed by the attention, smiles and nods.

Deb Comes into the room from behind. "Hello hello hello again." Reaching out toward Tara, while gesturing toward Dollya.  "Oh yes, you two know each other. Dollya, Tara has the most beautiful antique negligée with matching gloves and a silk belt." Gesturing with her hand around the room. "I knew you would take our class. If you need me to do your makeup again let me know." Leaning in and whispering. "Next time you will look even better."

Dollya pops a cassette in, and the base and percussion of dance music take control of the class.

Dollya and Deb in front of the small group, warm the girls up and quickly move to provocative motions. Deb, as always with her outlandish comments. "OK BITCHES, let's move the money makers. Who is going to lose their clothing in today's  class?"

Tara leans over to the girl next to her. "Is she serious?"

The girl next to Tara shrugs.

Deb looking up, laughing. "Tara.... yes you pretty girl. Any questions?"

The girls dance to the music, sticking out their tushies, shaking, and shimmying. Deb walks right in front of Tara. Grabbing her hips hard "Tara move grind yes that's it." She moves her hands on Tara's shoulders, pushing backward. "Let go, Tara. Don't be afraid to show it.  Stick out your chest, just the way 'The Guys' want."

The class moves over to the poles. Tara watches closely as Deb demonstrates. First, spinning, then climbing, finally spreading her legs while clinging to the top of the pole.

Deb tells the first girl to climb the pole. Skidding down the pole, the class wincing as she descends.

The next girl is only in panties and a bra. Gets to the top quickly.

Deb looking up. "Nice job, while you're up there can you reach around with your free hand and undo your bra?"

Giggling from the top of the pole, with her free hand in one quick move, releases the bra strap and removes her bra. Her tits pop out with gravity. She gives her perky round breasts a shake. The class, including Tara, applauds.

As she makes it back to the floor and puts her bra back on, Deb asks. "Nice job, you have done that before, What is your name?"

"Cara" A bit out of breath Curtseying.

Deb further inquiring, "Do you dance?"

Cara smiles. "Only amateur night, Wednesday's t at Bonita's." Getting Tara's attention, she now sees the competition.

Tara's turn, she spins around the pole. She makes it up the pole, awkwardly pulling off a spin at the top. Coming down too fast, Tara burns the inside of her thighs.

Dollya saying. "We need to work on that, but you did get up there. Keep those toes pointed next time also."

Deb put her hand on Tara's shoulder. "You're doing better, practice every night for at least an hour. Come here to work the pole. I will make a dancer out of you yet."

Confession time for the nun. "I stopped by The Silver Mirage the other night, but I heard Cara talk about  Bonita's Spice Sweet Spice amateur night." Not giving away that she had previously known about Wednesday nights and the contest.

Dollya hearing the conversation comes to join in. "The Silver Mirage is a dump. Besides Bonita's has a contest you can get $250 bucks. Cara dances well, but you got the looks to win."

Tara pushing the limits a bit. "I may do it after practicing for a couple of weeks."

"You're good, Tara. But I need you to come by early on that Wednesday--get your makeup done. It's forty bucks, but it'll help you stand out." Deb lowers her voice. "Oh, and you'll need to dance in sheer lingerie. Trust me, it'll work, which that on and your looks you will win!."

As the weeks go by Tara finishes evening prayers, quickly goes home, and dances in front of the mirror. Additionally, she watches what she eats, mostly going to bed hungry and with a headache.

One evening, she goes to the department store in town. As she rides the elevator, she can faintly hear the Muzak version of American Pie.

Dressed in her sweats, she quickly makes her way to the intimate apparel section of the store. She quickly selects a pretty flower frilly bra, with a front clasp. Silver in color, and a matching g-string. At the checkout, she turns around to a familiar voice.

"Sister Tara?" It's Michelle the charge nurse from Maple Tree. "Hello, I have not seen you for a while. It's a pity about Ruth, I know you were close."

A bit shocked, and still with a headache, Tara. "Ohh hello, Michelle. Yes, thanks for the kind words. How are you doing?

Michelle noticing the G-string and bra. "Nice intimate outfit, very pretty. You nuns are always full of surprises."

Tara quickly thinks on her feet. "Oh, this is a wedding shower present for my cousin in Charlevoix." Gesturing with her hand. "Nuns don't wear underwear like this." Snorting with laughter. "Well see you at work." Close call.

Rushing home, she quickly practices in from of the mirror, taking off the bra and G-string, in many different and provocative ways. She is up half the night, dressing and undressing out of her bra and g-string. She pulls it up by the straps and then toys with it as she slowly pulls it down. Next, she turns and bends over at the waist and pulls them quickly down to her ankles. Ass in the air she briefly peeks at her pussy and ass in the mirror. Outloud she muses and chuckles, "Nice view Tara." She sometimes just tears them away in one quick motion.

The following Tuesday morning (before her dancing debut) during morning prayers at St. Rose, Tara is sitting with her usual entourage of Willa, Alexa, Andrea, and Asia.  After prayers, Sister Tabby comes up to Tara. "Oh Sister Tara, may I have a word?"

Perplexed and still with a bit of a headache, Tara. "Yes Mother Superior, what is it?"

Tabby continues. "Sister, you seem, how should I put it, hmmm preoccupied. You are not following prayers, and you seem to be daydreaming." Continuing. "Are you alright? You also look like you have lost some weight."

Smiling with excuses, Tara. "Well, I have been contemplating about all that has been going on at St. Rose lately. And I have had a headache or two, but I assure you I'm fine." Pausing. "Maybe I'm missing a few dinners, I have lost a little weight."

Tabby, trying to ascertain the truth. "I've got an idea. Let's have you lead prayer study tomorrow night, instead of quickly dropping St. Rose and rushing home. Stay, and lead us in prayers and discussion. It will be good for you." She reaches down and pics up a prayer book. Thumbs a few pages, and holds the spot. "Here discuss these 12 pages or so Tomorrow night, that can't be too much of an inconvenience can it?"

Tara reaching for the book, with a smirk. "Thank you for this chance Sister. Time praying with my sisters is always valuable, this is what I need."

Through the corner of her eye, Tabby sees Rich walk along the side of the chapel. "Well, then it's settled. Tomorrow night. Now I must go and take care of the Snow Plow monthly bill." She quickly hurries away.

Tara quickly turns toward Alexa. "Well Sister, Looks like I'm the leader tomorrow night." OK, I can still do this one-hour prayer session, then to Deb's for make-up then to Bonita's. Still plenty of time.

The next day Tara is in a daze. After her shower and shave, she packs her bag with a spare pair of sweats, the antique negligée gloves and belt, along with the silver underwear, and a form-fitting sleeveless cream-colored silk dress (that has a cute floral pattern along the bottom). With dance routines in her head. I need to decide exactly how to strip out of the cream-colored dress and remove my bra and g-string quickly and easily.

After evening prayers, she leads the discussion. Tara likes the lively debate between her sister, and for a while gets lost in the banter. She misses the comradely.

Saying her goodbyes and good nights. She braves the cold and changes out of her Habit and into her sweats while sitting behind the steering wheel in the driver's seat of the cold car. She throws her bundled Habit into the back seat.

Sitting in the Sky Chicken. She turns the ignition, and it will not turn over, the headlights dim. "Uggh, come on 'Sky chick'." With the window frosting from the inside. Shivering from the cold. She is one hour late for her makeup appointment with Deb.

On the verge of becoming frantic, she turns off the radio and the headlights. Turning the ignition one last ditch try.... Success! The final ignition fires up the engine. "Thank you!"

Relieved she turns back on the radio. Scratchy static from the AM tuner. News Flash. "The world seems to be holding its breath. Reports of a massacre, over 900 dead in Guyana--members of the Jonestown cult.  Including over 200 Children. The Cult leader Jim Jones was found dead with a bullet in his head. All of the cult members died as a result of drinking Koolaid with Cyanide poison."