As she tied the end of the last thread her stomach rumbled loudly. Monique stretched and looked at the clock, 7 pm; she had been sowing for over 12 hours. She grinned proudly down at her little red dress. Lifting the dress carefully her looked over every detail, her fingers her were aching but she didn’t care. Monique had never been more proud of one of her creations. She traced her finger down the plunging back line and bit her lip nervously; she’d never worn anything quite this revealing before. She stood from her wooden chair and stretched her aching back. 12 hours is a long time to sit in one place.
Her father had still not come home, he would have started drinking again already and she doubted he wouldn’t be home until the early hours of the morning, if at all. Going without seeing him for days was a regular occurrence. Monique had to learn to look after herself from an early age. She had learnt to cook her basic meal of 2 minute noodles whenever she was hungry. It was the only thing her father would always have in the house. At that thought her stomach protested loudly.
She folded her beautiful dress carefully and put it back on her desk, trudging out to the kitchen. Opening the cupboard and pulling out a saucepan, she filled it with revolting coloured water and sat it to boil on the stove. She combed her fingers through her long hair while she waited, detangling the knots as she watched the water bubble. Taking a pack of noodles out of the cupboard and began making her staple meal. She sat at the table in the centre of the kitchen and ate her dinner.
Throwing her bowl into the sink, she then headed for a shower, she might as well start getting ready, she had a big night planned. She turned on the hot water and tied her hair up into a messy bun at the top of her head, the hot water washed over her body and she relaxed as her muscles began to unknot, she began washing herself with her favourite vanilla body wash. Her body wash was the one thing she willingly spent what money she did earn on, that and whatever she needed for her sewing kit. She turned off the water and stepped out, wrapping her old faded white towel around her bust, holding it close as she headed for her bedroom.
She pulled on pair of black lace panties and carefully undid the zip she had taken of an old dress and sewn on her latest masterpiece. She slipped the light material carefully over her head and pulled the zip back up. She traced her fingers over the plunging neck line to make sure it was in place and smoothed the material down on the slides. It was a lot shorter than she has planned, but when she did her measurements she realised she didn’t have quite enough material if she was going to hem it properly.
She slipped her hair out of the bun and walked back into the bathroom. Looking at herself in the dirty little mirror on the wall, she felt her breath leave her lungs as she realised exactly how sexy the dress was. The neck line plunged in-between her breasts and made them look amazing, she wasn’t a big busted girl, but they were just big enough that they sat perfectly in her dress. She turned herself slowly and her eyes followed the contours of her back, the back of the dress was completely bare, the line followed from the thin straps over her shoulders down to the small of her back. The material clung to her small waist and wide hips, making her hour glass figure look even more flattering. The skirt stopped halfway down her thigh, making her legs look incredibly long. She felt a smile creep to her mouth; she was certainly going to get some attention tonight.
Walking out of the bathroom she headed back to her bedroom and pulled out a shoe box. She had saved for weeks to buy these shoes. The back stilettos were high, making her legs look even longer. She buckled up the shoes, and stood carefully. Walking in heels came naturally to Monique, she has figured out a slightly seductive swing of her hips that made walking in them so much easier.
Monique glanced quickly at the clock. 9pm. She took a deep breath and headed to her father’s bedroom. Opening the door carefully she snuck into the bedroom. Even though she knew he wasn’t home, the thought of him catching her here still made her blood run cold, especially if he knew what she was about to steal from him.
She crept to his bedside table and opened the draw. Inside was a collection of small bags, all with the same amount of white powder. She stole her father’s stash every weekend, it was a miracle he never noticed anything missing, but then he was always so drunk or high, he could never remember if he taken or sold them. Her long slender fingers took 5 of the bags and slipped them carefully inside the cleavage of her dress. She took one of the bags and opened it carefully. Wetting her finger slightly, she coated it in the powder and lifted it to her mouth, sucking the bitter tasting power under her tongue.
She never took anymore than a taste, it was more of a test that the batch wasn’t a baking powder mix or something worse, her buyers would not appreciate muffins growing out of their noses because to her mistake. Monique felt her pupil dilate almost immediately.”Wow,” she whispered to herself, this was a good batch; she might make some good money tonight.
Monique slipped the little bag into her top and walked back out of the small, dark room, carefully closing the door to exactly where she had found it. She quickly applied what little makeup she owned in the bathroom mirror, rimming her sparkling blue eyes with black eyeliner and mascara and a quick application of blush and lip gloss, she pulled her hair over she shoulder and gave herself one more check. A pleased smile on her lips.
She walked the streets to the centre of town. The streets were dark and quiet. Her heal clicked along the ground as she made her way as quickly as she could. Turning a corner she saw the line outside the door of the club, it was long, longer than normal. She sighed as when went to check who was on the door. Being only seventeen it wasn’t legal for her be in a club, but she had her ways. Some of the bouncers were loyal buyers of hers; she would sell her wares in return of entrance to club, no questions.
Monique smiled when she saw she favourite bouncer, Lenny, on the door. Lenny turned his head and smiled when he saw her approach him, “Mona!” he bellowed as she got closer, she beamed when he used her club name. It was so easy to be someone else here, she had created a new person, Mona, was the confident, beautiful woman that wished Monique could be.
She skipped over to him drawn to him by his friendly smile. “Damn girl!” Lenny swooned; her face flushed as she looked to the concrete, Lenny was obviously older than herself, easily in his forties. He was tall and incredibly well built. His buzz cut and beard made him look that even more intimidating.
“Hey Lenny,” she looked back up to him and winked.
“Mona, that dress is amazing, one of your creations?” he questioned, he had seen her in things she had made before, it was obvious the girl had talent; “You should have you own label girly!”
Monique giggled, “You like? I spent all day making it,”
“Like it?” Lenny exclaimed “Hell, I have a feeling I may be throwing out a few drunk and horny young men tonight with you looking like that.” His eyes followed the contours of the dress, he was a married man but, damn, he knew a pretty girl when he saw one.
Monique blushed a bright shade of crimson and bit her lip. She rose on her tippy toes, even with the 4 inch heals she wore he was still easily two foot taller than her, she placed a soft kiss on his cheek and slipped one of the little white packets into the pocket of his leather jacket. “It’s good stuff tonight Lenny, you won’t be disappointed.”
He smirked at her, “You never disappoint honey,” He clipped open the red rope and motioned her inside, “Have a good night, and let us know if you have any trouble with hormone driven boys,” he winked at her and gave her one more sweeping glance.
“Thanks Lenny,” she walked past him and straight into the club. It was going to be an awesome night.