Atie's Dream

I had this weird dream. Not anything that made any sense while I was having it, but from the second I woke up, I just couldn't shake the images in it. I've NEVER been one to write down my dreams, but something about this one made me grab my laptop and just start pounding away. There were clear chapters, there was a story arc; it was about a girl and a character that was somehow some sort of father figure, it was dark and she was being used and she didn't like it...

At some point I had to stop... had to get in the shower and go to work. I tried to start again when I got home, but while I knew what was SUPPOSED to happen, I couldn't find that tone anymore. Whatever had come from that dream was gone. I tinkered with the end to give it a sort of happy ending.

So what we have is a story I wrote almost entirely in the half-hour before I completely woke up. It has almost nothing to do with the way I usually write. Let me know what you think.

Things had been much better for the last few years.

There was a while there, with the judges and social workers and the whole 'ward of the state' thing looming over my head that everything had seemed pretty dark. But now; I'm living with foster parents that were fairly nice, if a little strict. I'm going to a normal high school having the same normal problems as everyone else. I'm thinking about the homecoming dance and I'm worried about my senior thesis. I sit with a fairly popular group of kids at lunch, I wish I had more money for better clothes, but at least I know I'm pretty and I have nice hair and people seem to like me well enough and no one knows.

I was headed out the back passage of the school toward the student lots along with all the kids that drove themselves. I waved goodbye to my friend Britney; she was riding home with Chad Ambrose because they were supposed to work on a lab together except he had mentioned that his parents weren't home. I walked on alone, keeping my head down as I walked past Johnny Kline's pickup. He was hanging out with a bunch of the other senior football players, and I didn't want anyone to catch me staring at him as he laughed and swept his hand through his hair and tossed a football to one of his friends, making his broad shoulders ripple under his letter jacket. I just went past them, and headed toward the little secondhand hatchback my foster parents were letting me use as long as I stayed on the honor roll. I rounded a van one of the stoner band kids drove, trying to fish my keys out of my purse, when suddenly I stopped dead in my tracks.

He was here.

I glanced around, hoping nobody had seen him. People tended to notice him; he was good looking, in his way, or at least at first. He tended to evoke different eccentric celebrities, sort of a Johnny Depp by way of David Bowie. But he was a bit to tall and lanky, his hair less casual and more unkempt in the way if fell haphazardly over his eyes. He wore a faded 70's style light brown jacket despite the heat, and was in the middle of lighting a cigarette. There was a giggle behind me, and I knew some of the girls from school had seen him. They didn't know that he wasn't the sweet sort of dangerous you see in the bad boys on TV. He was something else.

He looked up at me, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke as he spoke, his smile as genuine as I remembered it. "Hi, sweet pea."

I bit my lower lip for a moment, shaking my head softly. "Please..." I said in a whisper. "I'm doing really well here."

He nodded, patting the side of my car. "I can see that." He said, lifting the cigarette to his mouth and leaving it there as he turned and held out his hand to me, not bothering to say what it was he wanted.

He didn't have to. I looked up at him pleadingly, but did as I was expected, taking the keys from my purse and placing them in his hand. He smiled, and took a step toward me, reaching up and cupping my chin. He took the cigarette from his mouth as he leaned down and gave me a gentle kiss on my mouth, just the same way he used to. The feel of it, the taste... it's not something you forget. I could feel eyes on me... the other girls. I couldn't begin to imagine what they were thinking. He pulled away from me, and walked past me, leaving me standing there as he walked around to the driver's side of my car. He unlocked the door, and pulled it open. I was standing there dumbfounded, not wanting to believe it was all happening again as he rested a hand on top of my car... of

the

car... and smiled at me. "You coming?" He said simply before he climbed into the driver's seat.

I could only give him a small nod as I reached for the passenger door, slipped my backpack off, and slid down into the seat. I closed the door, pulled on my seatbelt, and held my backpack on my lap as he started the car, and pulled away from the school.

I wondered if I would ever see it again.

-----

He had been driving for almost an hour. I didn't recognize the town out of the car window, but I hadn't done much driving other than from home to school. It wasn't exactly seedy, but a lot of the buildings were closed or boarded up, and there were a lot of people sitting on stoops or standing around on the sidewalk talking. I wasn't sure if I'd like to get out of the car here.

We hadn't gone far before he'd started again. After we had left the school, he had grabbed my backpack and lifted it from me, flinging it into the backseat. He had said that I had filled out since he had seen me last, and that he wanted to get a better look. As he drove, he reached over, and unbuttoned the top button of the shirt I was wearing, and then undid another, and another, until it was open to just beneath my bra. He gave me that smile; that appreciative, almost tender smile that told me he was pleased with me...

"Gonna have to find some new things to do with you..." he had said cryptically before his attention had turned back to the road, leaving me with my shirt open.

I looked up, seeing that the car was slowing. We were coming up to a pawn shop, the same type of building we had passed a dozen of on the way over. Standing outside there was a woman, maybe in her mid twenties. She was pretty, with a really amazing figure and a lovely face, but the first thing I noticed was her hair. It was jet black, but it had highlights in several colors, reds and purples and blues and orange. Most of it was loose and shiny, but bits of it were worked into thin, clean little dreadlocks. She wore tattered jeans that barely rose to her hips with a thick belt, leaving the bright red strings of her bikini underwear all but uncovered. She wore a simple white tank top that left her pierced navel exposed and did little to hide the dark purple of her lacey bra, one strap of which had fallen down her exposed shoulder. She had several tattoos on her arms, and on her lower back right above her bottom, and as she turned her head, I saw that there was a name in cursive script tattooed on her neck. She leaned down, looking into the car through my window, her smile lush and full.

He turned the car off, and lowered my window, dropping the only thing separating me from the girl outside. "This is my friend Zoe." He said, bringing his cigarette to his mouth.

"Hey..." She said, reaching through the window and petting my hair. "Nice to meet you". I realized as she spoke that the dot on the side of her cheek, which I had thought was a mole, was actually a piercing.

"Hi." I said meekly.

I felt his hand on my thigh. "And this is my daughter, Katie."

I looked up at him. Feeling him touch me like this was familiar enough, but he had introduced me as his daughter. I don't think he'd ever done that before. I couldn't even remember him ever

addressing

me as his daughter. It just seemed so strange, that I was almost nineteen before I'd heard him say it for the first time.

"Wow," Said the girl outside. "You really

are

kinky!"

He patted my thigh. "Why don't you crawl in back so Zoe can sit?"

I looked between them for a second, but I didn't hesitate long. It was a hatchback, you were supposed to get out of the car and push the seat forward if you wanted to get into the back. But I didn't want to get in their way; didn't want to be the thing keeping them from whatever they planned to do. It was just easier to struggle between the seats and climb into the back, even though it was filled with cd cases and a pile of books and even though I could feel their eyes on my backside as I struggled between the seats. My foster mom had thought these jeans were too tight, but she had let my buy them anyway. I had loved the way they hugged my bottom and showed it off, I had been thinking I might catch the eye of Johnny Kline...

Now I was sorry I had ever tried them on.

I finally got into the backseat and squeezed myself into the space behind the driver. He had pushed his seat way back, but the other spot would have been easier for him to reach. It also meant that, once Zoe had gotten into the car and he had started driving again, I could see the small black bag she had in her lap.

"Did you get it?" He asked.

She nodded, snaking her hand over into his lap and out of my field of vision as she opened the bag and pulled out a fairly new-looking camcorder. "All digital, just like you wanted."

"Good..." he replied, but his voice trailed off. I was fairly sure I didn't want to know what was happening in the front seat... I just closed my eyes and pretended to sleep.

-----

The condominiums were actually very tasteful. We drove past several stretches of well manicured lawns, a tennis court, even a small communal pool before we slowed down and parked in front of one complex in particular. He got out, taking a small satchel with him. He reached down to pull his seat forward as Zoe climbed out of the other side.

I slid forward timidly, not sure what I should be expecting here. This wasn't the sort of place he usually wound up. I reached up, and took his outstretched hand as he helped me out of the back of the car. He kept holding it as he closed and locked the door, and I felt myself growing smaller beside him as he led me by the hand toward the main entrance into the complex. We went up a flight of stairs that twisted around the back of the building, and came to a door into one condo in particular. He released my hand, and pulled a credit card from his back pocket, sliding it with a practiced move down inside the door lock.

I looked around, more than a little uncomfortable with the idea of someone catching us breaking into someone's condo. "Whose place is this?" I finally asked.

"Someone I used to be friends with..." he said, his attention still on the door. I exhaled, trying to slink closer to the wall so no one would see me. 'Friend' could mean a lot of things with him.

Finally, the door clicked open. He grinned, and pushed it open for us. I slipped in even before Zoe, eager to not be seen outside. I stood back against the wall as Zoe went into the room, dropping onto the couch and taking a small bag from her back pocket, arranging it on the coffee table in front of her. He had already closed the door, and had taken out a screwdriver and a replacement door lock from his satchel.

As he changed the locks, I looked around. The condo was small, but tasteful. There was a kitchenette just inside the front door, with a countertop that looked out over the rest of the main room. A set of double doors on the opposite side of the room provided a lot of light through their blinds, presumably opening out onto one of the small balconies she had seen from the front. There was a TV on a cabinet in the opposite corner, arranged just so that it could be seen from anywhere. The room basically had two pieces of furniture; the long sofa where Zoe sat diligently rolling a joint on the coffee table, and a single armchair. To the side, there was a door into the bedroom, and a second door into the bathroom, which was also accessible from the bedroom. Not a big place, but it was clearly well cared-for. I couldn't begin to guess how he had known the owner...

"There we go..." he said, closing the door and locking it.

Zoe had finished lighting her joint, and was exhaling a long, rich roll of marijuana smoke as she spoke. I tried not to inhale... I don't take to drugs very well. "Isn't she going to notice that her key doesn't work anymore?"

He shook his head, putting out his cigarette on the countertop, leaving a lingering smell of singed linoleum. "She won't be home for almost a month. That's just to keep out any unexpected guests." He said as he reached down and took her hand, easing her onto her feet. He took the joint from her, and slipped it into his own mouth, spinning her in a pseudo-pirouette, and slapped her on the bottom. "Why don't you set up the camera like I asked while I talk to Katie?"

She squealed, and hopped up, heading toward the TV, grabbing her little black bag. I watched her for a second as he took a long, savored drag, and then exhaled as he turned to me, his breath still holding the lingering smell of the weed. I winced, coughing a little as I spoke. "What's... what's she doing?"

He glanced back at her, returning the joint to his mouth. "Oh... we want the girl who owns this place to know what we do while we're here. The camera's going to be in the TV cabinet... basically, just look at the TV, and you're looking at her." He said; the smoke rolling around my face as he turned to look at me again.

I blinked, coughing again. It didn't make sense... but it was hard to think. I could feel his hands against my stomach, but my eyes were a little watery, so it took me a second to realize that he was unbuttoning my shirt the rest of the way. I felt it tug upward, untucking from my jeans. He turned me, another lungful of the acrid smoke swirling around me. His hands slipped around my ribs, and between my breasts, undoing the clasp that held my bra closed. I had only really developed in the past year or two, and it felt strange to have my breasts fall out into the exposed air, only to have his thick, firm, familiar hands close around them. He squeezed them... not tenderly, not exactly... there was a sense of roughness to him, but still, his touch was as delicate as I'd ever felt as he took my hard little nipples in between his fingers, tracing my areolas with his thumbs as he gave each one a firm little pinch... he exhaled again, and I coughed, feeling the heat and roughness of the smoke spilling from behind my neck down over my naked chest... he wasn't even taking the joint from his lips, he was just holding it there, exhaling marijuana out over me as he caressed my breasts for the first time.

"We're going to need money while we're here, Katie..." he said around the joint in his mouth. I nodded, reaching up to catch his hands, struggling to keep my head clear. "So we're going to take you out tonight and find a job for you so you can help support us."

"Am..." I started to try to speak, but my voice cracked. My knees were buckling, and only his arms folded around me cradling my breasts were keeping me pressed against him. "Like... burger king... or..."

He chuckled. One of his hands started to move down my body, his fingers spreading wide across my tummy. "Something like that..."

-----

I leaned way back, reaching over my head, gripping the pole back above my shoulders, swaying back and forth on the tall heels he had bought me, feeling my naked breasts swaying under the strobing light. I looked down my almost completely naked body at the man sitting at the base of the stage with the small collection of ones in front of him next to his beer, sliding my hand slowly down my body, between my breasts, down my stomach, all still glistening from the baby oil the other strippers had shown me how to rub all over myself. My fingers slid down toward my black bikini panties, teasing him as my hand slipped between my legs...

It was just like the other girls had shown me. It was an over 21 place, which meant we had to keep our panties on, but that just meant they would pay more if you acted like you were going to show them. Some of the other dancers had resented me coming in, so completely inexperienced, but most of them liked me, and helped me learn how to do this so that I could get decent tips...

None of them knew that I really didn't want to be here. That I was burning with shame every time I got on this stage and took my clothes of in front of the leering gaze of horny strangers, some of them reeking of booze. But I had to... he had told me that we needed money while we were here, and this was the job he had gotten for me. It made sense; I supposed... it was the most money I had ever earned. But I was under twenty-one, and I was sure they could tell when they looked at me. By how nervous and inexperienced I was, by how soft and new my body was...

But no one seemed to see it. I just kept dancing, and they just kept paying...

The man in front of me, the one I was pretending to rub myself for, reached out and caressed my ankle, just below the straps for my tall heels.

I froze for a second. They weren't supposed to touch me, it was a rule. I glanced over by the door, to the bouncer, the one who was supposed to keep them from touching me. He was smiling, looking at a dancer who was telling what was probably a dirty joke. He sat, his hands on a cup of coffee, not watching the dance floor...

I looked down at the man. He was looking up at me, expectantly, his fingertips still circling my ankle... my hand still drifting over my panties between my legs. I thought about what would happen if I told him to stop... would I get in trouble? Not here, not a work... but...

What would

he

say?

I smiled at him slowly... letting my fingers slip around my panties, and slowly pulled them aside, letting him see, if only for a second, the small little gash of my pussy. My face flushed dark red... I was always privately ashamed of my pussy... it was so tiny and unpronounced, and my hair was so fine and blonde, it was like I barely had any at all. I felt like a little girl, showing this random stranger my kitty up on stage.

I slipped my panties back into place, and twirled around, sliding down the pole slowly, pretending to look at the guy, but really glancing around the room, trying to see if anyone noticed. It didn't seem like anyone had. The guy stared at me for a minute, and then quickly reached down to his wallet. He looked inside, made a small cursing sound, and then looked at me, holding up a finger to say that he'd be right back, and then went hustling for the ATM.

I gathered up the small pile of ones that had been sitting in front of him, and slipped them back with the others, sniffling a little so that no one would see my eyes getting moist.

-----

He had kept my car in case he wanted to go out, so I took the bus. The bus stop was just outside the condominium complex, but it was still a bit of a walk to get back to 'our' building. I had changed after my shift was over... my dancing clothes and heels were in my backpack, and I was wearing much more normal clothes; a t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. Still, as I walked down those sidewalks, I felt like people could see me for what I was. There was no shower in the changing room at the club; I still had the baby oil on my skin. And I was sure I smelled like beer, and cigarette smoke...

But mostly, I felt like they could tell just by looking at me.

I climbed up the stairs to the condo, and even as I did so, I could smell the smoke from inside. They had been in all day. I exhaled, trying to steel myself to go inside, and knocked on the door.

Zoe answered the door, smoke drifting past her from the darkness inside. Her hair was spilling all over her face, and here eyes were red and watery. She was barefoot, and was wearing only panties and a t-shirt that had been ripped from the collar down to the navel, showing so much of her breasts that one of them was almost completely exposed. Her areola was wide and pink, but the edges were undefined, seeping away into the lighter color of her skin...