Shoeless Child by Schneider J. A

Author:Schneider, J. A. [Schneider, J. A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Psychological Thrillers, thriller, Mystery, Suspense, Crime
Amazon: B0775WWRFD
Goodreads: 36627745
Publisher: RGS Media
Published: 2018-01-24T08:00:00+00:00

34

“You’re late,” said a woman with a painted face.

Gina apologized, and rushed to an empty chair. Beside her, the woman was almost finished, adding more adhesive to her second fake lash and popping it on.

Sam, her name was. Short for Samantha. Her name used to be Jane, but she changed it to sound more like an exotic dancer.

“Wish I could do that.” Gina dug nervously through her makeup bag.

“Do what?”

“The lashes fast, like you do it.”

Sam smiled into the wide mirror before them, applying face powder, fluffing her blond hair. “It gets easy, like everything, ha. Hey, so hustle.” She got up and turned, checking her butt in the mirror. Her fake breasts bounced. Her barely there panties were just a slit up her slit.

Muttering about their “second shift, guys get antsy,” Sam hurried out, then stuck her face back in. “You still gonna wear your modest-girl panties?”

“Yeah, I’m okay alone with guys, it’s just…crowds.”

“No one’s complaining. The modest-girl thing’s a tease, too.”

The door closed, and Gina took a deep breath, deeper than she’d been able to breathe in hours. Here, before the mirror lined by glamour bulbs, was another world: soft light, vodka bottles in ice buckets, fancy boxes holding tissues, face powders, lipsticks. The music from just outside throbbed. Gina took a long pull of vodka, closed her eyes waiting for the hit, then pulled off her sweater – nothing underneath - and got to work.

Curl the lashes first, brush on the mascara. Gina’s hand shook a little; she slugged more vodka and checked. Lashes curling up nicely, to support the weight of the fake ones. The adhesive was usually her enemy, but this time it went onto the fakes more smoothly. They alighted, under her fingers, like black doves on her real lashes.

Done. The music outside throbbed louder. From the booze or the pleasurable ringing in her ears?

This excited her, it really did.

Rouge, lipstick, twirl the dark hair up, then let it fall to the shoulders. Perfect. She’d learned that from one of the other girls.

Then she stood and pulled down her yoga pants. Underneath, the modest-girl panties she’d donned at home. Turquoise-colored, reaching to three inches below her hips. Management was okay with that. She didn’t like showing her crotch naked here, there were women who grabbed. They were really into the bisex thing…

Silver, strappy shoes went on next, and in the mirror she admired the job she’d done covering her bruises. She’d really lathered on the skin stick.

For moments, a frantic feeling engulfed her. Then the beautiful girl staring back in the mirror helped push it down. Her breasts were perfect. The men loved to try to touch. They’d beg if she had to move through their sweaty crowd, but she always ducked. “Just to look, boys,” she’d say teasingly as if she didn’t really mean it. If anyone really bothered her the bouncers would be there in a flash.

So life really was better, don’t cry, have to stop all that crying. She’d found herself a job that paid double what any crap job would pay, woo hoo.

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