EroticReverie

Roselyn Nichols

I'm on the stage at the club I've been working in for two months. Was being a dancer my dream? No, of course not. But sex sells, and it sells well. It was time to move out, and in order to do that, I needed money. 

But as I'm on stage, and my little pink g string hits the stages baring my shaved/trimmed lady parts to the men in front of me. My eyes lock on one man as he enters the club with half a dozen other men. All of them dressed far better than the men around the stage, tossing dollars at my feet. And suddenly, I'm taken back by a face I swore I'd never forget. 

Thirteen Years ago.....

"We've got a problem." the man standing over my fathers body says, the silver gleam of the gun in his hand flickering as he brings it behind his back and tucks it away as he nods towards me. 

I'm five years old, in a knee length nightgown that my father told me made me a big girl, made of see through fabric and little pink frills on the hem and shoulders, a tattered pink rabbit stuffed animal hangs by my side, his soft paw clutches in my tiny hands. 

The tallest of the men, who has his back turned to me, turns his head and glances over his shoulder to the stairs, his eyes following the steps right up to me at the top of the left side of the stair case. 

It's my first vivid memory. That night. Hearing the shouting from my bedroom, and getting scared, and then somehow being brave enough to leave my bed. I heard my father yelling, and almost ran the other way, because I didn't like when he was mad. He was scary and mean, and he'd already yelled at me earlier when I cried about not wanting good night kisses.

The tall man was looking at me. I saw his expression for from annoyed, to furious. I remember my lower lip wobbling, because I was afraid of him. Of all of them. I somehow knew they were bad men, but they also killed my Daddy. Were they the same kind of bad men? Did they force their daughters to do things they didnt want to do? 

"Jesus." Another male voice says as they all look at me and mutter something about my father being a fucking pervert. I'd later learn the word, and agree that they were right. 

The tall man turns and walks to the stairs. I don't move. He pauses on the step, hand on the railing, his eyes on mine. 

"Are you Roselyn?" He asks and I nodded in response.

"I'm Silas." he says. "It's nice to meet you."

"I wont hurt you." He says when I dont say anything, and just lift my bunny and clutch it to my chest and wrap my arms around it tight. 

"Your father won't hurt you anymore either. Okay?" He says and I look to the body of my father on the foyer floor, blood staining and spreading over his chest and then back to the man who is slowly climbing the steps. I just nod. 

His voice was like a thunderstorm, even though he spoke softly. 

"He's taking a nap. A long one." He says and I nod. 

"He won't touch you anymore." He says and I nod again. 

"Can you show me your room? You want to put on some clothes?" He asks and I nod. 

"Good, show me your room."  He says and I point to the hall to the side and then I walk towards my room. 

"Jesus" I hear him mutter when he sees my room. My fathers room. He sees the few stuffed animals on my side of the bed, sees my underwear on the floor by the bed, along with my fathers briefs from earlier. 

"Lets find you some clothes." He said walking over to the closet and then slamming it shut and looking back at me. I just blink up at him. Even at five years old, I knew the closet full of "sexy" clothes in my size wasn't normal. I'd seen other kids on tv , none of them dressed the way my father dressed me. 

Instead of grabbing one of my fathers shirts, or even attempting to find something appropriate, he pulls off his jacket and walks over and wraps it around me. I remember it hitting the floor, and him taking my rabbit and tossing it on the bed.

"I'll get you a new one. Okay?" He said and I nodded. Looking back I understood he didn't want me to have any reminder of the man that had been molesting me. 

"Let's go." He says and bent dont and scooped me up. 

After he brought me to some nice ladies house, and shared whispered conversation, the nice lady looked at me with tears in her eyes and a forced smile. She took my hand and led me to a room in her house. She'd said bad words when she removed the tall mans jacket and saw my nightgown. 

She had the softest jammies ever, ready for me on the bed, footie pjs with unicorns and rainbows and they were warm. 

"You're going to stay with me for a little bit, okay?" she asked and I nodded. 

I watched her throw the see through nightgown into the trash in her kitchen, and I remember looking around for the tall man, but he was gone.  The next day the nice lady named April, told me Silas brought me a present. She handed me a soft black bunny with a bright pink nose, and it was much softer than the one my Daddy bought me. I never saw the tall man again.

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Thirteen years later, eyes the color of the sky look at me once again. I'm not sure I'm even moving. In fact, I'm not. I can hear the voices of the men near the stage telling me in various ways to "move". But those eyes are on my body, my very naked, very, exposed body. The trails from my stupid light up stripper heels, up my legs, my thighs, my hips, my pussy, my pussy, my pussy. He stares there for a long time. Then his eyes are on my navel, the little gemstone belly ring that dangles from it. Then his eyes are on my breasts, then...my face. I see his eyes squint slightly. Does he recognize me? He looks the same, other than his hair isn't black and gray now, it's all gray. Along with his neatly trimmed facial hair. But I don't look the same. Clearly. A lot happens between the ages of five and eighteen. 

Just like they did thirteen years ago, his eyes turn angry as he looks at me. His nostrils flaring and then he's saying something to the man beside him. The man, turns his head, looking at me, eyes popping, then he walks to the side of the club. Silas stares at me , then at the men who are now shouting, some of them calling me names even as they grow annoyed with my stalled performance. 

"Show us that cunt doll face!" 

"You dumb baby? Dance, it's what we pay you for!" 

I watch Silas glare at the men and then he's moving towards the stage, towards the seats and the music stops and I watch Silas as he walks right up to the one that called me dumb, grabs him by the back of the collar and drags him back, the mans seat skidding as he shouts and curses, then gets a punch right in the face. I hear his nose break. the blood immediately gushes. I just stand there, naked, in shock as the other men around all start to move and shout. Then I watch the other men in suits come over, the ones with Silas as they all start making sure to handle anyone who might choose to try anything. Thankfully , none of the other men want any trouble and are filing out of the club, my manager shouting for the patrons to get out. I look at the man, knocked out cold from the second punch that Silas gave right as the man howled from the first. Much like thirteen years ago, I watch familiar faces standing aroud a mans body, except this one isnt dead. 

Silas looks at me and walks over to the stage. I swallow. 

I just blink at him as he keeps his eyes on mine and lifts his hand up towards me, as if he wants me to take it. 

"Have I ever hurt you Roselyn?" he asks when I don't take it. I shake my head. 

"Get down from there." he says and I walk over and lean down, placing my hands on his shoulders, his hands grabbing my waist and I lean into him as he back up and pulls me off the stage, keeping me lifted and then setting me down on my ridiculous heels. 

I watch him take his jacket off. I just stare, and then, just like thirteen years ago. He wraps it around me, pulling it shut. 

I swallow hard. 

"I didn't save you from one monster, to watch you cater to other monsters." He growls at me and I just blink at him. 

"I..." I start. "I needed money." 

His jaw ticks and he looks at me, my eyes , my mouth, and back to my eyes, he growls. 

"Let's go." He says and I just blink. 

"What do you mean?" I ask. 

"I mean, you're coming with me." He says. 

Thirteen years, not a word, not a peep from him, and he just shows up, to what, save me again? Why? 

"Why?" I voice my question outloud.

"Don't ask questions." He says and I feel my face scrunch.

"I'm not a little girl anymore, I dont need-" 

He spins around and I nearly stumble back , but he grabs the center of his jacket, both hands and yanks me into him. The jacket is open, my tits are mashed against his chest and I suck in a breath as I blink at him. 

"You don't know what you fucking need." He growls at me and my brows pinch.

"I dont...where have you...how did you even know where I was?" I ask, a million questions coming out of me at once.

"I've always known where you are. I'm the one who put you with April. Do you not remember?" he growls. 

"I remember." I say and he looks at me. I swallow, because I might like the way my breasts feel against his expensive shirt a bit too much. 

"Let's go." He growls at me.