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Sweat dripped down Nathan's face. Trish, his girlfriend writhed on all fours in front of him, her ass slapping his hips with every thrust. They were both eighteen years old, and tonight was their last night together. Tomorrow she would leave for college, and Nathan would continue on in town without her.

"Spank my ass, Nate," she said, looking back over her left shoulder. Perspiration beaded on her face, her brown hair tangled in it and stuck to her. He let a half-hearted palm drop with a smack.

"Harder." No more looking back, just head down, teeth grinding.

Bang. This time he gave her his right palm, and with a bit more force. Feeling the burning building inside him, he grunted loud, and tried to hold off. For distraction he let his left hand fly again, then the right again alternating from holding either side of her hips, and slapping her.

"Pull...my...hair." Trish's voice was barely clear enough to understand now, her own orgasm approaching.

With his right hand on the small of her back, he leaned in and snatched her brown locks with his left. Nate was in another world now. They had only done it four times before anyway, but all four had been standard missionary. Tonight was new, tonight Trish had wanted to try something different, and now she was asking for things he had never thought she wanted. His heart was pounding in his chest, and his head was swimming. Orgasm the only thing his body wanted now, his head finally gave up the battle.

Nathan was hit with the most powerful feeling in his short sexual career. When his balls started to pump, he lost control of his balance, and was unaware when he leaned forward and rammed Trish into the pillow. His hand still clutching the back of her head as she hit her own climax.

Four minutes later they were both aware enough to disengage. Both were huffing for air through wide sloppy smiles. It took them the better part of ten minutes to calm, and then Trish wordlessly rose and started for her clothes. Nate gawked at her skinny form as she dressed before he gathered his words.

"What was that all about, the spanking and stuff?" he asked.

"I wanted to try it out...since I'm leaving. What did you think?" She was fastening her bra now, and was already wearing her plain white panties.

"Awesome, sorry about smothering you." Now he was sitting up in his bed and lacing his hands behind his head.

"That was the best part...Listen." Trish grew serious now. "I'm gonna take off now. Be great Nathan. I'm really glad we got to know each other." She pulled her shirt over her head, and the last he saw of her was her rear end leaving the room clad in a pair of cut-off shorts.

Several minutes later, Nathan let out a deep breath. Trish hadn't been much of a girlfriend anyway; they went out only because neither of them had much going on. In bed her saw her as a supermodel. Out of bed, truth be told, her hair was rather mousy and her teeth were rather crooked. But, as Nathan glanced around the trailer he shared with his father, he knew that she had been just about the best thing he had going.

Now he was left living in a rented trailer with no car, and no girl. Advantages were simply something he did not possess. He was tall and thin, six foot, 130 pounds with plain brown hair, and ordinary brown eyes. Even in his nicest clothes, a lack of confidence grown from a life of have-not made him seem insignificant.

There was no money either, mom bailed out on him and dad when Nate was two. Dad meanwhile worked as a tow truck driver, and they used the company truck to get around. Eleven years ago dad had fallen asleep at the wheel and rammed a family on vacation in their minivan. Naturally they had sued, and now almost all of dad's checks went to the state to cover the lawsuit. At the end of the month there was never cash for nice things. Hell, they didn't even order pizza.

When the sun rose the next morning Nathan Prescott was acutely aware that his life was a clean slate. No more high school as of three months ago, no more girl as of six hours ago, and nothing left to do with his day.

Getting out of bed in his boxer shorts, Nate went to the trailer's front door and looked out. His father's tow truck was there as expected. Dad wouldn't go to work again until about six pm since he worked the grave shift. Taking three steps to the kitchen, Nate went about making himself a bowl of cereal.

For a few brief minutes, Nathan ate in peace. Sitting in a battered recliner staring at the news on TV, slowly shoveling a spoon loaded with cereal into his mouth, he was jolted when there was a knock at the door.

The door opened on it's own before Nathan could get up, and his gray bearded grandfather walked in with a brown package under his arm.

"Hey Pops," he said to his grandfather, and settled back into his cereal.

"Put that down Nate, I need to talk to ya." Pops sat down across from him in the old couch, and set the brown package in his lap.

In a moment Pops took in a deep breath and slowly began to speak, his eyes locked with Nathan's.

"Now I know you don't have much, and I get the feeling you don't expect to. So I want you to have something my grandfather gave me." The old man began unwrapping the package, and Nathan could see that the brown was actually old weathered paper. As Pops removed it the object inside was revealed to be a large book.

"You read this kid, and you can have or do anything you want. This can make your dreams come true, and your wishes turn to reality." The old man hadn't taken his eyes off of Nathan, and slowly held out the large leather-bound book.

With a bit of hesitation...Nathan reached for it also, but when he grasped it Pops wouldn't let it go. He thought he heard Pops saying something under his breath, and the book was suddenly quite heavy in his hand as Pops let go.

"There ya go buddy, every opportunity you could ever ask for, all bound in leather. Just remember to trust it, like you trust me. And do me a favor, kiddo?" Pops was softer now, almost frail. His eyes showed remorse and a bit of weakness.

"Sure Pops, what ever you want." Nathan stammered the words out not wanting to let the old man down, and also beginning to wonder what the hell he was talking about.

"Don't let your dad live like this forever, do what ever you can to get him up on his feet again. But as for the book, don't let your dad see it either, don't tell him I was here. Most importantly...don't let anyone else read it." Softness turned to ice when Pops spoke of the book, and the old man thrust a hand in his pocket and turned to walk out the door, stopping, only long enough to throw Nate a nod as he went down the steps.

Nate threw the book into his room, and forgot about it for the rest of the day. Much later, after his father had made off for work he remembered the tome, and dragged it out with him into the kitchen. Snatching a soda from the icebox, and dropping dramatically into the living room's lone beaten recliner, Nate closed his eyes and thought about how odd Pops had acted. A few sips of soda later, he plucked the book from his side and looked it over.

He first gazed at the front cover and read the title: How to influence people, and get what you really want! There was no author.

"That's a retarded title for an heirloom," Nate thought as he impassively thumbed the cover open.

Shortly he was looking at the oddest table of contents ever. The chapter titles were all blank...save the first. It ominously read, "How to start your adult life". As he turned to the first page of the chapter Nathan almost jumped out of his chair in shock. The page was blank when he first opened it, but the words appeared out of nowhere after only a moment. "Have all you desire and want. Just trust this text, and do as it says." The book will sort out the rest. Next came a list much like a to-do list. At the bottom of the list was a simple instruction telling Nathan to complete the list and then read more. It was pretty simple, everything on the list was something Nathan had planned to do anyway except for the third and last item.

It was a short and direct list. Get a job...something physical. Nate had figured he would have to do that anyway since he didn't have any skills. Then, get a car, again already one of Nate's current plans. Finally, and oddly "Go to a strip club". This was the one that had him confused. What the hell kind of person would put that on a "how to start your life" list?

However, since he was doing the others anyway, Nathan figured he'd end up doing the last one too. The next morning Nathan walked half a mile to a site where a company was going to build a strip mall. A foreman named Robert wasn't too impressed with Nathan's build or experience, but hired him to shovel sand into a cement mixer all the same. It took Nate the better part of the day to get to the company's main office and fill out employment paperwork. He got home just in time to see his dad driving off in his tow truck.

The next few weeks went quickly. Shoveling sand and hauling bags of cement was rough work, and he usually staggered back to the house aching all over, but by morning he was always refreshed, and never sore. It had to be the book...somehow it was taking care of him. He did what it said, and it took care of him. Or something to that effect that at any rate.

After three weeks, Nathan had managed to save up a few hundred dollars, and Robert approached him about staying on for a bit more. The concrete pouring was complete, but the job had to start framing. Robert explained that he would need some good grunt work to get that done.

"You don't bitch, and you work fast. My guys could use you. You'll end up as an apprentice in the union too. Once the union has you there's always work in this town." The bigger man had said all this through his morning coffee.

Since the jobsite was close, and he still hadn't gotten the car, Nate figured it was for the better. He just didn't realize how much better. The new job came with a five dollar an hour raise and union benefits. Work was still hard though; basically his "apprentice" job consisted of hauling tools and materials from wherever they were, to where ever they were needed.

Two months later, framing was almost complete, and Nathan had managed to buy a used pickup. It was ten years old, and pretty beat up, but it ran well enough. The morning after he drove it to work, Robert wanted to see him again.

Robert was a muscularly large Hispanic man with a think black mustache and dark penetrating eyes. He stood about three inches shorter than Nathan, but seemed immense. Today he was smiling, and flagged Nathan down as the apprentice was moving to unlock the power tools.

"Say hey, Nathan. Can I talk atcha?" Robert was leaning easy on the side of Nathan's truck.

"Yeah Boss what's up?" Nathan knew the job was almost over. Another contracting company would come roof and still different one's would handle the interior.

"So we decided. the crew and I, that is, that we like you. We want you to follow us to the next job, and, we'll keep you as framing apprentice, but start giving you more than grunt work. Sound ok?" He seemed sincere enough.

"Ok, then count me in." Nathan was glad to know they at least wanted him around. Most of the crew had ragged on him about being too skinny in the beginning.

"Good, ok now for the fun stuff, couple of us are going to a titty club tonight after work. You oughta go too." Robert was walking away now, heading for his hard hat and the day ahead.

"All right. I'll be there too," Nathan shouted as he trotted off after his work.

Later that day Nathan ran home for a quick shower and then headed out to the club, which was on the edge of town. Nervous until he noticed his boss's truck in the lot he walked up to the door. The club security gave him a quick pass with one of those metal detector wands, collected a twenty dollar cover charge and opened the door for him.

Once inside Nathan tried hard not to gawk or act stupid, it took a great deal of control to avoid doing either. Half-naked women were everywhere, and all the lights were either red or yellow or blue. Not a white light in the place. He took a few steps in before scanning the crowd for Robert and the other guys, and found them sitting a bit away from the stage in a corner booth. All of them had their eyes glued to a hot blonde who was clinging upside down to the pole on the stage. Wearing only a g-string, her legs were pumping to the music, giving a revealing look at the blue fabric of her g-string barely covering her crotch.

When he got to the table the guys absently shuffled around, making a spot for him on the edge. They were drinking pitchers of beer, and poured him a glass. One of them slid him a glass of soda too.

"Hey, kid? If someone comes over here, slide the beer away and drink the Coke alright?"

"Sure I got it." Nate took a big gulp of the beer. Beer wasn't new to him; Dad had been drowning sorrows for while now.

Robert leaned over the table to him as the girl's song ended, and she made for the cash that had been thrown to the stage.

"We got next week off Nate, the site ain't ready yet for the next job. You stay by the phone, I'll call you with an address in a few days," he said.

"Cool." Nate was watching the girl stuff the money in a small bag, and head backstage.

"Just so you know this next job is bigger too. We'll be picking up another apprentice. You been around longer, so you show him the score, just as long as everything gets handled with the tools and materials, you'll be able to do some work instead of just luggin shit around." Robert winked at him now, and pointed out in the aisle.

The girl from the stage was walking to their table. As she got closer Nate got a better look at her and imagined she was about thirty-two, maybe younger. Her dirty blonde hair was worn long, stopping just below her shoulders, and she had put on a blue string top to match the flimsy bottom. With her blue eyes scanning their booth, she flashed a pearly smile.

"So who wants a lap dance fellas?" she said indicating all of them with a wave.

"How much?" asked Robert.

She told them it was twenty-five bucks a dance, and all the men besides Nathan pulled out ten dollars, and handed it to Robert. He then gave her the fifty dollars, and indicated Nate.

"Don't hurt him; it's his first time," Robert informed her.

She grabbed Nate's arm, and he barely managed to put his beer down without sloshing the guy next to him. She was pulling him across the club to a side room. Once in it there were eight large plush chairs. Three of them had mesmerized patrons in them with dancers gyrating on top of them. Picking a chair, she backed Nate into it, and turned to face him.

"My name's Candy, you can't touch me, but I can touch you. So just sit back and have a good time, I'll take care of ya." With that, she began a slow undulation to the beat of the music, and ran her hands over her body.

Feeling a bit stupid, but also very enthralled, Nathan just stared at her. Candy cupped her breasts through the blue top, and squeezed them. Then she slid a hand behind her and pulled a long blue string, which caused the whole top to fall onto the floor. Gazing at her breasts, Nathan felt blood stirring in his pants. When she leaned into the chair and shook them in his face, the stirring was over. Only the sharpness of erection was left. She danced for almost three songs, eventually standing on the arms of the chair with her back to him, leaning her ass in his face, popping it up and down to the music. Finally she stepped off the chair and bent over to pick up her top. She gave him another great look at her ass by not bending her knees, then stood to put the top back on.

"If you want more, you know where to find me," she said as she walked away. A second later, Nathan stood up, an uncomfortable tightness in his pants. When he got back to the table several of the guys smiled at him and saluted him with their beers.

"Alright, now that we got that taken care of, let's get to drinkin," Robert said.

They stayed there for another two hours, before the guys started to head out to the door. Robert and Nathan were the last two to head out, and Nathan was more than a little tipsy when he got into the truck and drove home. Fortunately he didn't have any trouble on the drive, and collapsed onto his bed in a heap.

Around eleven a.m. Nathan woke up with his head ringing and his balls aching. He staggered out into the kitchen for his ritual cereal, and found a note on the fridge.

"Now that you're working, how bout some rent money? Dad."

Nathan had wondered how long it would take for this particular message to come across, and smiled because he had saved some money to give to dad when it did.

Around 12:30 he made his way back to his room and started to get ready for a shower. When he took his shirt off he noticed that the stripper had shed hair on him during her dance, and tossed the shirt in his hamper. He had stripped down to his boxer shorts before he remembered that he had finished the book's list last night.

Locking his bedroom door, he took the worn leather book from the drawer he had stashed it in, and flipped quickly to the page with the list. Now there were instructions below the list, and there was no denying that the book knew what it was doing.

"Put the hair in your hands and roll it between your palms. Focus completely on the person who left the hair, picture them solidly in your mind. Then, speak into your hands what you want the hair's owner to do. When what you told it is done, read the next page."

A little bewildered, Nathan reached into the hamper and pulled his shirt back out. Then he plucked one of the hairs off of it. It took him five minutes of staring at the blonde filament to decide what he wanted the stripper to do. He had decided to give her a task that would without a doubt prove finally and completely that the book worked. Then he did just as it described, rolling the hair in his palm, picturing the stripper perfectly in his head, and speaking into his hands. After it was all done, he placed the hair in his wallet, and went about his shower.

Shortly after four p.m. Nathan placed himself in the living room, and began watching TV...waiting. A bit after 4:30, the stripper walked through the front door wearing a red belly shirt, and a pair of low-rise jeans. Her heels clicked on the linoleum when she entered, her hair pulled back into a ponytail with a simple black tie. She looked at Nathan who jerked his thumb towards the back of the house where his father's room was. Nodding she briskly walked down the hall and through his father's bedroom door.

Grinning, Nathan went to his room, and snatched up the book. The next page had more to offer now.

"This charm will work for you from now on, as long as you obtain a lock for it, i.e. a piece of their personal property; clothing, hair, skin...etc. although hair will eventually deteriorate and prove to not be useful. The charm also has no effect whatsoever on family. In order to reveal the next charm, follow the following instructions. 1: Meet a new female and take her out. 2: Obtain three more locks for different people. 3: Get back to school. Come back after each task is completed. For unselfish use of your first charm you will be rewarded."

Nathan's mind again began to question the book's agenda. One and three were simple enough-meet a new girl, and get back to school-but then the part about new locks of different people. It was just as confusing as it was fascinating, and what was this about a reward?

It dawned on Nathan that he could hear a rhythmic thumping coming out of his father's bedroom, probably his dad's headboard hitting the wall. With his mind wandering all over the idea of what three people he would want locks for, he strode into the living room again and slumped into his chair. It was only a few months ago that he was a struggling high school student with no real future in front of him. Now here he was with the ability to get people to do whatever he wanted. There was a lot to think about in his world.