Title: Midnight Express to Savior
Author: Phoenix Arrow
Part: Chapter 1 of 1
Keywords: F/F, Public
Redistribution: Only for personal, nonprofit use.
Short Summary: A Stripper finds herself repenting to a Nun 
		in a lowly subway car!



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Please, if you are under the age of 18, don't read this material. 
Just wait a few years and you'll be all good and legal for this 
kind of stuff. Now for the rest of you, Enjoy!

Phoenix Arrow - PhoenixArrow2000@yahoo.com

More Phoenix Arrow Stories Available at: 
http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/PhoenixArrow/
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Midnight Express to Savior
By Phoenix Arrow



Why is she looking at me?

Can she tell? Can she see through my coat and know what I wear 
beneath it?

No, it's impossible.

But is it?

Gosh I sure hope it's my imagination.

But there she did it again. Yes I am sure of it now. She's judging me, I 
just know it.

What makes her so much better? That she can sit smugly in an empty 
subway car looking down at me.

I'm just as good as she is!

No, not really.

She's a Nun, a woman of the faith.

Still how can she tell I just got off work?

Is the smell of smoke and alcohol that strong?

It must be, she couldn't possibly see my outfit beneath these cloths.

But she knows, I just know it. The way she keeps looking at me from 
time to time, with that look of lowly pity.....and disgust.

Well what the hell does she want from me? Not everyone can be as good 
as she is! Not every one can be righteous and sinless. I have to pay the 
bills somehow.

Besides, what's it too her that I do what I do? She doesn't know the 
hours I put in the gym, toning my body to perfection. She doesn't know 
how it's like performing before a bunch of salivating men. Its hard work. 
Why should she care what its all for?

But she does care. She surely pity's me for using my body and not my 
mind. How loving of her. But that's where her love ends, I'm sure of it.

In her eyes I'm nothing but a snake, a heathen snake. She's seen right 
through my thick coat, into my soul and seen the stripper inside.

But what does she want me to do about it? Take off my coat? Reveal 
who I am with out shame? I have no shame. So what if I'm a stripper? A 
woman who dances nude for paying men. I'm not trying to hid a thing.

Still why do I wear the coat then? If she already knows who I am, why 
do I try to hid it from her? That's what she must be thinking. She 
probably laughs at me for hiding what I am. 

I do suppose there's no use wearing it any more. She assuredly knows 
what I wear beneath it. No reason to hide what she must already know, 
that I'm a stripper.

Fine, I'll remove it. Then maybe she can shut up and stop staring at me.

Did her eyes just grow wide? Yes they did! But I thought she knew. I 
thought she could tell what I was already wearing. Well now she knows 
for sure. What other reasons could I have for wearing 5 inch heels, a 
micro skirt, and skin tight top? No doubt I just confirmed her suspicions 
of me.

Should I put the coat back on? No, it doesn't matter anymore. I'm a 
stripper, a shameful, shameful stripper.

Look at her, she thinks even lower of me now. I can see it in her 
disapproving eyes. She's no longer looking at my face, but at the 
spectacle I call cloths.

She detests them I can tell. No self-respecting woman would ever be 
caught wearing these. Only a woman who was a tramp, a slut. A woman 
whose only worth is as a sexual object for men to slobber over.

That's what I am and she knows it.

But what can I do about it? I am what I am.

Can't she just stop looking and leave me alone. I'll never be as good as 
her. I'm just a stripper, and that's all I ever will be. I'll even prove it to 
her. I'll strip right here and show her how I shake my tits and flaunty my 
hairless pussy!

No no no. This is a woman of faith. Of respect. She would never want to 
see my sinful displays.

But there is another look in her eyes. It's a look of compassion, of 
understanding.

Maybe she does want me to take off these cloths. Remove the symbols 
of my profession. Cast them away in hopes for something better.

Oh I so want her to accept me. To look at me in a higher light. Perhaps if 
I just....

The expression on her face hasn't changed yet. She has to know I just 
undid the clasp of my top. Does she want me to let it fall free? Why 
wont she let me know? Why is she only sitting there, staring at me.

I let it fall.

Nothing, just staring.

The cold night air hardening my nipples. Gosh she must think I enjoy 
this, that I'm a slut even here before her. But surely she knows how cold 
the air is? But she's looking at my left breast. I know what she see, my 
nipple ring. Yes, she does think I'm a slut.

I hook the tops of my skirt. Still not a change in her face.

There they go, off as well.

Gosh are those plastic seats cold.

Now will she accept me? Will this be enough? 

But where is she looking now? At my thong? Take that off too? Why? I 
must wear something. What if someone else comes in? I can hear people 
in the other sub car.

But I must. I have to shed the remaining part of my filth. This woman 
commands it.

The black garment pools around my heels. I kick them off as well, 
completely exposed to this pious woman. 

I resist the urge to cover my sex and breasts with my hands. She has 
seen through to my soul, surely she cares nothing for my sinful curves.

I can see her looking between my legs, at my shaved cunt. How 
disappointed she must be. Here she thought she was helping a woman, 
but I'm nothing but a girl. A girl with a hairless pussy. I did it for the job, 
where men like girls shaved. But to her I am still a little girl with a bald 
pussy. 

But will she still help me? Will she still forgive me? I look at her face 
but still I see nothing. No change. Does she accept me yet? I do not 
know. What else must I do? I have stripped my cloths, the symbol of my 
degradation! What else is there to do? Can't she see the tears forming in 
my eyes?

Now her eyes are down cast, looking at the floor. Yes, that's what she 
must want. She wants me to kneel before her, to announce my 
repentance and beg for her acceptance.

My knees touch the cold metal of the sub car, where thousands of feet 
have undoubtedly stepped before. I am completely naked, presenting 
myself humbly to my nun, my savior.

At first I can only look down, unworthy to look at someone so superior. 
But finally I look up into her eyes. Nothing, no change in her face. We 
just continue to stare into each other's eyes.

Maybe she wants me to ask her something. Beg for her acceptance. Yes, 
I should beg. I open my mouth to speak.

But I can't. What if she says no? What if she rejects me and cast me 
away like the useless rubbish that I know I am.

I can't help it. I break down and sob.

Quickly in a desperate last attempt to save myself I lower my head to her 
shoes and kiss them.

Over and over I cover them in pleading kisses as tears roll down my 
eyes and loud sobs echo off the subway car walls.

Suddenly I feel a hand grab hold of my chin.

It is her.

She ever so gently lifts my head until we are again looking into each 
other's eyes.

Tears are still rolling down my face as I whisper 'Please!'

My heart leaps as she smiles and gently shakes her head. Then moves 
forward to kiss my forehead.

It has happened. She's finally accepted me. She no longer sees me as the 
slut stripper I was but as a little girl begging for forgiveness and love.

The train begins to slow as she gently lifts me to my feet and covers my 
naked body again with my coat.

We exit the car together, hand in hand. My purse and clothes still on the 
seat left behind.

I don't know where she's taking me, but it's probably to her convent. 
There they know how to deal with girls like me.


The End!



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All Comments are greatly appreciated, please send them to: 
PhoenixArrow2000@yahoo.com

More Phoenix Arrow Stories Available at: 
http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/PhoenixArrow/

Your encouragements keep me going :)

*******
This work is copyright (c) 2003 by Phoenix Arrow.  You may 
download and keep copies for your personal use as long as the 
author's byline and e-mail address and this paragraph remain on 
the copies.  Please do not post this story to any web site without 
permission from the author.  All other rights reserved.  No 
alteration of the contents is permitted.
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