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Cassie Ainsworth [userpic]

Fic for just_fck_me

January 15th, 2010 (01:19 pm)

Prompt A body like that should be illegal
Pairing Cassie/Johnny White
Rating PG-15
Word Count 987

He stares at her passport for just a little too long before handing it back.

“You’re almost nineteen,” he observes.

“It’s sweet that you care,” she says, looking across at him in the darkened room. “They don’t normally.”

“I don’t care,” he tells her. “I just don’t wanna get involved with no kid. Not that I’m getting involved. Tell me something though, yeah? Why do you do it? Why do you let Greta dress you that way? Like a fucking little girl?”

She shrugs, even though she knows the answer, or at least she could guess the answer. “They like it, I need the money, so…it works, yeah?”

Men are fucking perverts, that’s what she’s saying. In the most polite way she can think to put it. You have to keep everyone happy, keep smiling, keep making the right noises, the right faces. It’s easy really. She likes pretending.

“That’s a bit fucked up, Y’know,” he says.

She laughs unable to stop herself, biting her lip the moment she realises she’s let the act slip if only for a split second.

“What?” he demands.

“Nothing just…it’s all relative, isn’t it?”

“Meaning?”

“Nothing, really,” she protests, wondering what he’s thinking. If he thinks she’s talking about him and all the stuff he’s into, because she really isn‘t. Is she supposed to know? Is he going to tell her? Christ, what is she even doing here? Alone in a room with Johnny White and he isn’t even paying her.

“Are you checking all the girl’s IDs?” she asks, in an attempt to change the subject. It isn’t good to upset Johnny White, everyone knows that.

“I have to be careful, with my record. Last thing I need is to be linked to a place that has underage girls, y’know? The rest of it, that’s fine. It does me good to have a reputation for violence. Makes business move a bit more smoothly if you know what I mean?”

“So that’s all it is?” she asks, wondering why she feels disappointed. He’s different to the rest of the guys they get in here though. He doesn’t pay for sex for a start. No his desires are something completely different.

“What else would it be?” he asks, with just a hint of a smile, half amused, half cruel. He has to admit she isn’t like the other girls. There’s a spark behind her eyes every so often, when she thinks no one’s looking. But Johnny White is always looking. It’s always a good idea to know who you’re dealing with. Good to know everything about everyone. That’s how he managed to get where he is today. Well that and a bit of possibly gratuitous violence.

“I just thought…” she trails off and sits up a little straighter. Focusing on her act. On who she’s supposed to be here rather than who she really is. Because if she lets herself be Cassie here, then what?

“Go on,” he orders.

You don’t say no to Johnny White.

“Maybe you were thinking of…hiring me sometime? But the pink nightie and pigtails probably isn’t what you want, is it?” She looks over at him and she knows she’s Cassie now. The fucked up little girl that ran away for a while, but came back and ended up here.

“Clothes can be changed,” he says like he doesn’t care either way. “You pull out those stupid fucking ribbons and it’s not a problem, is it? Do it now. Go on. Just so I can see what you‘d be like if you looked legal.”

She does as instructed, letting the ribbons fall to the floor and following them with her gaze. When she looks up again he’s standing, half way across the room and watching her like a hawk. “And the rest,” he says quietly.

“The rest?” she questions.

“Don’t play games with me, girl,” he says. “The nightie, take it off. Let me get a look at you.”

She should protest really, because he hasn’t paid, but he’s Johnny White. She knows to keep him happy. So she does as she’s told. Not quite looking him in the eye as she pulls the cheap fabric over her body and lets that too fall to the floor as she stands there, cold and naked and feeling more awkward than she’s ever felt before. Because normally they don’t pay that much attention to her. They’re not interested in the little details. It’s about the general image, the act.

“The scars,” he says, taking one step closer. “How’d you get them?”

She takes a deep breath and looks up at him finally. “Can we…all due respect and everything but-but it’s personal, you know? It doesn’t affect anything. It doesn’t change what I can do. It’s not like anyone notices, usually I mean.”

He nods slowly and turns away from her. “You can put it back on now. I’ll have a word with Greta about getting you some new gear for tomorrow. Something a bit more…suitable.”

“Tomorrow?” she says, watching him, as she shrugs into her clothes. Though she still feels strange and vulnerable because he’s seen her as she is. He’s noticed her and she can’t remember the last time anyone did that.

“You’re different,” he says simply, his back turned from her. “I feel like a change. Don’t get excited about it. Tomorrow, 10pm. You and me, Cassandra.”