El Norte Ch. 02

LONGING FOR HER NEW FRIEND

A few minutes later Salma bade the man farewell and returned to her dressing room to prepare for her next set of dances. She removed her semen laden undergarments and held them to her nose, inhaling the scent of a man for the first time, imagining becoming pregnant and bearing the child of a loving husband.

But when she returned to the stage her new friend was nowhere to be found. The bouncer came over to collect the money the man had paid for her company, and she transferred the twenty dollars from her hand reflexly to his as she surveyed the bar; the thought that their mutual pleasure was to the owner of the bar merely a commercial transaction not entering her mind.

At first she was beset by panic over her friend's departure and wondered if he would be forever lost to her. But upon realizing if he could not afford her company for the rest of the evening that he would see her pass from man to man performing table dances, to best preserve what they had shared it was necessary that he leave.

But where had he gone? To another strip bar; no, he was spent. To his wife; there was no wedding ring nor would any woman let her husband be seen in public dressed like that. Would he ever be back?

She hadn't even found out his name. Worst of all, she ached to be taken into his arms for one last embrace and share a passionate goodnight kiss. But she hadn't even gotten that!

Tomorrow, would he feel like a fool for having been intimate with a stripper? She hoped not. Maybe he had somehow sensed that this was not her bag. The magic of the evening was finally broken when the girls were chained together to be taken back to the barracks in which they dwelt, sequestered from the good people of California, only allowed to mingle among horny perverts whom the dancers would try to get to part with their money thus helping to retire their country's debt.

The stranger failed to appear for the next two nights. None of the other dancers had ever seen him before. Salma was detached during her performances. The manager gave her a pep talk, warning her that there were less desirable places to which she could be sent if her dancing remained sub par.

The other women told her to put her disappointment behind her, but she could not let go. Each night he didn't appear she would cry herself to sleep thinking of him and fantasizing about the life they could have had together.

On the third night she was sitting alone at a table between dance sets, avoiding the company of the customers. Thoughts of sneaking out of the door into the night and throwing herself off in front of a car ran through her mind. She craved a glass of wine, but awash in a sea of liquor there was no way could she have a drink.

Her mind drifted between thoughts of suicide and proudly showing off her new American friend to her family in Mexico. But he was nowhere to be found. She felt abandoned, but why? The man had no obligation to her. Would she feel the same about him if she were free?

In her old life, the thought of a man obtaining sexual gratification in a place like this would have been repulsive. But he was different. She seemed to have taken advantage of him. He seemed painfully shy and vulnerable. Maybe he had just ended a relationship.

After her three years of servitude in America were over, she would track him down. In the United States of America, if one had the money, anything was possible. Thinking how she would be a rich doctor someday and use her money to track down the man who had given her her first orgasm momentarily lifted her spirits during this, the darkest time of her enslavement. Such hopes would have to keep her going until she was set free.

THE STAR DANCER GETS SOME COMPANY

The movement of the chair next to her interrupted her brooding. Her mood was uplifted as a familiar voice asked if he could buy her a drink. Her face became aglow as she saw her new American friend sit down next to her.

"You must have a lot of company on the nights you dance. So if anyone special comes in just say the word and I'll leave."

Salma had already taken his hand into hers. She wondered how she looked tonight. Too sleazy might turn him off. After anticipating his arrival every night since she had first danced for him, she had been taken by surprise and was without a plan. Panic set in. Her heart pounded as she contemplated her next move, as if she were the queen and he the opposing king on a chess board.

But this was not a man to be conquered or dominated. He was sincere. There would be no games or pretenses. The thought of throwing herself at his knees and begging him to take her away came into her mind, but such a man needed someone strong; someone who had both confidence in him and herself. Only when love was consummated with such a woman would he overcome the shyness that imprisoned him. Calmed by this realization, she set about to win the man's heart.

"I've only been working here a few weeks and you've been my best customer. Didn't we have fun together the other night?"

Her friend blushed. Embarrassed, he changed the subject. "Let's order our drinks now. Did you enjoy the tequila or would you prefer something else?"

"The tequila was fine. But as much as I need a drink now I don't think you came here to buy me a drink, watch me dance, or even have me get you off again."

Her friend looked stunned. Hoping that she would not frighten him away, she continued, "I know something special happened to me the other night and I sense that you feel the same. My only concern is how we can continue this."

A long pause ensued as the two contemplated each other. The man then leaned over and kissed her on the lips. The kiss was long and passionate. When their lips parted Salma was dizzy. After a few seconds she began to giggle.

"You make me feel like a teenager. And by the way, my name is Salma."

He extended his hand and replied, "Richard."

He then ordered their drinks. After the waitress left the table Salma seized her friend's glass and took a gulp of tequila. Emboldened by the fire water, she stood up and faced Richard, her crotch almost at his eye level, just a foot away from his face.

Clad only in a black bra, matching panties, and black thigh high hose, her pelvis began to undulate to the slow beat of 'Only You.' The eyes of the man she now knew as Richard became fixated on her crotch.

He felt her right index finger under his chin gently lift his head. She leaned over until his face was silhouetted by her hair and flashed him a smile to tell him everything was all right, that all she expected was that he should enjoy watching her dance, her gift to him for coming into her life.

Her arms glided forward and she placed her hands on the back of his chair to steady herself. The undulations spread from her pelvis into her torso and then through the rest of her body. Her eyes were now closed and her facial muscles relaxed as if she were almost asleep, but the corners of her mouth were turned up and her lips slightly parted as if she were in the midst of an erotic dream.

Her torso sunk slowly until her breasts were brushing against his chest as she swayed to the music. Her nose lightly touched his and after letting out a giggle, she planted a peck on his left cheek. Becoming more playful, she stuck her tongue in his ear and he let out a laugh. Suddenly becoming bashful before her red faced friend, she moved away, delicately stroking her torso as the rest of her body twisted and turned in rhythm with the music.

When the song ended she collapsed on his lap and kissed him, extending her tongue deeply into his mouth. By this time the eyes of all the patrons were on them. The crowd broke into applause when they finished their kiss. Richard blushed as Salma gave thumbs up to their audience.

When the noise died down and the men turned their attention to the next dancer, Richard asked Salma, "Are you working Saturday night?"

"They occasionally give us days off and Saturday is mine. But if you are planning to be here it would please me to spend the night dancing for you."

He hesitated before saying, "I think you have the wrong idea. I wanted to take you out on a date."

Salma's expression turned downcast. "I thought you knew I'm not an American girl. I can't just leave my barracks and tell them I'm going on a date." She pointed to her slave collar. "Do you not know what this means?"

Richard was perplexed and struggled to find the right thing to say. "Of course I know what it means. But if you're here to serve Americans there's no reason you shouldn't serve me."

He was immediately embarrassed over what had emanated from his mouth. An expression of pain came over Salma's face. "I, like most Mexicans, am a mestizo, meaning I have Indian blood. That makes me a little bit more American than you."

Richard's face turned red. His tactless remark had aroused her anger, but she had not wished to make him ashamed. She hoped he would not leave.

"You're right. It's terrible that we had to find each other this way. But you're the most beautiful woman I have ever been with. You've made me feel good in a way that I've never felt before. I've just been on top of everything since I met you. It's like you've put me in control. I'm confident for the first time in my life.

"You know and I know something wonderful is about to happen between us. You don't belong here. We need to be together. There has to be a way for us to be together alone."

A tear came to his new friend's eye. "I can get away but it's going to cost you. They rent us out by the hour. I'd pay for it myself but I have only the few dollars of spending money they allow us each month. But if you rent me won't that make me a prostitute?"

She then buried her head into his shoulder and began to weep.

"These are extraordinary times. If two people can find love together, isn't it worth sacrificing a little dignity?"

Salma looked at him awestruck. Did he just say he loved her? She wanted to ask him to repeat himself but was afraid that his words would come out differently. But then the DJ called her name. It was her turn to go on stage to dance. She stood up to take her leave, but first turned to Richard. "I'll be ready for you on Saturday night. But please don't think of me as a whore."

"You've nothing to worry about in that regard." He planted a soft kiss her on the lips and got up to leave the bar, leaving a twenty dollar bill on the table to pay for her dance. "See you Saturday night!" he called to her as she strutted to the stage.

THE DATE

Enthused over her upcoming date, she danced with special enthusiasm the next two nights. The owner even took her picture for a billboard ad, making her wonder if her unwanted fame would follow her if she someday ended up practicing medicine in these parts.

She dreamt that Richard would somehow take her away from her life in serfdom, but in her more realistic moments, it would satisfy her not to be stood up. As their date drew near Salma wondered what she would wear. Her wardrobe consisted of two prison smocks and the dancewear she shared with the other women at the club.

Another practical concern was her hygiene. The women at the barracks were only permitted to shower before and after dancing, making bathing before her date on Saturday night problematic. Therefore Salma decided to use her meager finances for a bribe.

Salma actually was relatively well off for a slave. The proprietor looked the other way, allowing the women to leave with a small portion of their tips, which at first many stashed in nooks and crannies around their encampment and later gave to the owner for safekeeping as they came to trust him.

Salma had become an expert at teasing generous tips from the patrons. A weekly cigarette ration was given to the slave women and not being a smoker, she was able to barter her allotment for cash and favors. Her meager savings would now come in handy.

She had befriended one of the Anglo guards by correctly diagnosing and suggesting treatment for her daughter's illness. The woman was happy over her charge's good fortune to meet a man and agreed to help her.

Salma gave her the money she had saved to purchase clothes and cosmetics. To obtain a shower Salma would feign a headache and be removed from the barracks for an ersatz trip to sickbay that would instead lead to the shower house.

On Saturday afternoon she received a package when the friendly guard arrived for duty. The woman had done well for Salma.

Inside he package was a black sleeveless blouse, flowing white pants, a simple black belt, strappy black leather sandals, and a silver chain for outerwear. A black bra and matching bikini panties were for underneath.

There was mousse and a fine shampoo for her hair. Her friend was also kind enough to supply dark red nail polish that would match her lipstick, foundation, blush, purple eye shadow, mascara, and eyeliner. There was even a bottle of perfume and a tiny black purse for the cosmetics. Far from taking some of the slave woman's money for herself, the woman had clearly gone into her own pocket to make her young charge presentable.

Salma smiled and began crying as she gazed at all the pretty things and gave her friend a hug. As she expressed her thanks, Roberta, the guard, interrupted, "Coming here day in and day out seeing you women who were taken away from your families, children, and country makes me feel like a monster. I am a poor woman who lacks the courage to fight against the system. Shopping for these few little things made me feel like a human being again."

Salma then experienced the headache as scheduled and the two women went off to prepare her for her date. They felt like teenage girls getting ready for a dance as the young physician fixed her hair and put on makeup, hoping to be beautiful for her new friend.

At five o'clock Salma was brought to the administration building. Her smile contrasted with the grim expression of the guard who escorted her, but her face soon matched his when she did not see her new friend. She was whisked into an empty room and locked inside. Rather than waste a few pennies by turning on the ceiling light for the slave woman, a guard opened the shade on the single window in the room. Light from the late afternoon sun shone in, but along with the illumination came heat, and the room quickly became stifling.

Time passed slowly and she became convinced that her preparations had been for naught. Dozing as she sat in a metal chair, she dreamed of the first night they met, remembering the special feeling with which she had been overtaken upon first laying eyes on Richard. She heard garbled male voices from afar, and wondered to what form of abuse she would be subjected if she were found alone and abandoned. The sound of footsteps going up and down the hall increased her unease.

As her wait grew longer, the warmth she felt for her friend turned into resentment. Her eager anticipation of a few hours of life in the normal world was turning into a tremendous letdown. As the sun went down and the room grew dark, she fought the urge to pound on the door and scream. Were the guards haggling with her friend over the price? How would her friend treat her outside the club? He would treat her wonderfully, she thought, if he showed up.

Finally she heard a key enter the lock and the door opened, making her squint against the bright light from the hall. Her face broke into a smile and tears came into her eyes as a guard pointed for Richard to enter the room. Before he could cross the threshold, she ran out and threw her arms around him. The two kissed and Richard looked into her eyes. "I've never seen you in clothes before."

His joke made her blush. "They're my only set." The two began laughing and kissed again.

"I'm going to take you out of here now," he announced.

The two left the room hand in hand. As they walked down the hall, Salma looked adoringly at her beau. Richard stopped at the front desk. "I'm sorry you have to see this but they wouldn't let me do it earlier." She turned her head as Richard took out his checkbook and paid her rent to the commander of the guard.

So I'm on the rental program now, she thought. In a detached tone she inquired, "How much was I?"

"Enough, I hope, to make you feel like a human being again."

Salma leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, and they walked through the chain link fence out of the encampment.

She felt giddy experiencing freedom for the first time since being taken away from her home in Mexico. They walked arm in arm down the street, and she examined every parked car, wondering what make he would drive. He wore a sport shirt, tan pants, and sneakers. His hair needed to be trimmed, his beard was too long, and food from lunch was still visible on his teeth. His appearance from a distance would be quite stylish, but up close he just didn't quite fit in.

She remembered the first time they laid eyes on each other at the strip club when she accepted his offer of a cigarette despite neither of them being smokers. Why was he there in the first place?

To afford to take her away from the barracks he must have some financial means. But what did someone like this do for a living?

Maybe his parents were wealthy but he was too maladroit to have a girlfriend. She had seen rich louts with too much money but he seemed too serious for that.

Had he recently broken up with a woman? That thought pleased her but she hated that someone could be so cruel to him. Maybe he was a computer whiz. He was too straight looking for that.

Was he a doctor like her? Could be, but would he tell her? And would she harm his reputation by being seen with her, an enslaved stripper from Mexico?

She smelled his breath and it was a little strong. She laughed to herself as she considered that one explanation for her good fortune might be the distaste of Americans for the natural smell of a human being.

She was very relaxed and had already made up her mind to let him do anything he wanted to her tonight. But when she looked at his face, she could see that he was still tense. It might be one thing for him to enjoy her company at the strip club but another to be seen walking arm in arm with a woman wearing a slave collar. Maybe they should have just continued their relationship at the club. But so exhilarated was Salma by her taste of freedom that they would have a good time together, whatever it took on her part.

They finally reached a parking garage and headed toward the elevator. The facility was used by people commuting to day jobs and by now was mostly empty. They entered the elevator. The car was surrounded by glass on the outside giving a view of the city as one ascended.

Salma saw the sun hanging just above the hills on the western horizon and then looked south. Somewhere beyond the mountains was her homeland.

She remembered how happy her parents had been when she graduated from medical school. She had had no contact with them since coming to the United States.

Telephone conversations between Mexicans and Americans were monitored. Cell phone links between the two countries were broken, preventing a prepaid phone from being surreptiously utilized by a slave. Internet links were monitored and mail was opened and censored to thwart any plans for an uprising. Her world was limited to televison, the barracks and the strip club.

She could not bear to look upon the vastness of California to which she as a slave was denied access. She turned away and faced the door of the elevator. Tears came to her eyes. She watched the floor numbers increase as their car ascended and looked down at the control panel to see upon which floor they would alight.

Her eyes stopped on the red button that was labeled "EMERGENCY." All that mattered now was how things went between her and the other passenger in the elevator. Despondency over the life she had lost in Mexico would get her nowhere. She knew what she had to do.