Chapter 1 - 1/3

Krissy was a girl who never had much. The smallest of six, she had long lived with the refuse handed down from her siblings. From food to footwear, Krissy always got the sloppy seconds. She was the family's oil change, the batteries in its smoke detectors - Kristina was an afterthought.

When high school hit, she was ripe for rebellion. Decked in dirty sneakers and threadbare halters, little Krissy cried out in the timeless language of adolescent insubordination. She fell in with the wrong crowd and learned to live right, ditching the bitter taste of class for the sticky-sweet flavour of young love and cheap booze. Her poor single mother would weep late at night when she came home from her second job to find Krissy still missing, but she just couldn't provide the attention her young daughter craved

So Krissy found what she was looking for in the back of the church parking lot, where guys would bring her booze and weed and slide their fingers through the holes of her sister's old jeans. She developed a woman's body and an appetite for men - and, eventually, other women. She met a lot of people and tried a lot of things, spending fewer and fewer nights at her mother's house in favor of coffee-stained couches and unfamiliar beds.

By the time Krissy graduated - and she did graduate, just barely - she was ready to leave for good. She moved into a rented flat near the local state college with a couple of girls she'd met at frat bashes, landing a part-time waitress job at an Italian place nearby. The pay was bad, but with her C-cups and the practiced wiggle of her waist she was able to make just enough in tips to pay rent.But her first paycheck didn't go to rent. She took it downtown to the fanciest fashion boutique she could find. She sauntered in wearing her sister's jeans and a torn concert tee, and left with a three-hundred dollar little black dress.

Back at home, Krissy modeled the dress in front of her grimy mirror. The material was soft as silk and hugged her every curve like a second skin. Her shapely shoulders were framed with tapered straps, her pert breasts teased with just a hint of cleavage. It clung smoothly to her slender waist and flared out with her hips, running perfectly down her legs until ending abruptly mid-thigh. It's tight fit gave the illusion that she was already naked, but covered just enough to remind admirers that there was one more layer to go. It was perfect.

From the moment she first walked out of her room, all eyes were on Krissy. The attention was intoxicating. Her roommate's appreciative "Damn!" was like a shot of Fireball, sweet and empowering. The poorly masked stares on the bus were guzzled like cheap beer. The rubber-necked glance Krissy received from the bouncer as she sauntered into The Crystal Palace was one last shot of liquid courage as she dove into the high-end nightclub.

The bass thrummed through Krissy's chest like an electric shock. All around her were well groomed men and well dressed women, most many years older than herself. She stumbled through the crowd until she found the bar. She ordered a drink that she couldn't afford and smoothed her dress, wondering if this had all been a bad idea.

Suddenly, a man tapped her on the shoulder. He had a handsome face and a well trimmed beard. "I'm sorry, but you look a little lost."

"I am!" Krissy half-yelled over the music. "This is my first time here."

"All alone?"

"Well, I was hoping to find a friend," Krissy said.

The man smiled. "I'm Matt. Can I buy you a drink?"

Krissy smiled and nodded as she slurped down two big fruity margaritas. As soon as they were gone she ditched Matt and hit the dance floor, wiggling her hips just like she'd practiced. Her little black dress stretched and slid over her curves, scoring her many admirers and a mess of free drinks.

Krissy moved fluidly between the bar and the dance floor, flirting shamelessly with any man who struck her fancy and accepting drinks from all of them. She drank and drank. She'd never had mixed drinks before, and her suitors were determined that she try at least one of each.

As the night wore on and her head began to swim, Krissy began latching onto one of her more devoted followers, a well-dressed man with dark stubbled cheeks who'd been buying her drinks all night. She clung to his arm and laughed drunkenly at his jokes as she dragged him to the dance floor. They grinded sloppily, his hands running over her perfectly-framed hips and slim stomach as Krissy massaged his crotch with her ass. Krissy smiled wildly as they sweated together, reminded of all the dirty frat parties she'd been to over the years. There wasn't much difference between Alpha Phi and The Crystal Chalice except better booze and richer men.

Nights like this quickly became routine for Kristina. Waiting tables with a hangover was hellish, but when the clock struck seven Krissy just couldn't keep herself at home. Weekend benders turned into week-long benders as she learned just how valuable her body was. After just a month her little black dress had payed for itself twice over in the calorie-packed mixed drinks she had learned to guzzle down like water.

When she wasn't at the club Krissy lived in a daze. Weed helped her work through the pounding hangovers for a few hours a day, most of which was spent in the kitchens flirting with the cooks and stealing bites of pasta as they were put up to order. What money didn't go to rent was spent on cheap jewelry or the frozen pizza rolls that made up the rest of her diet. As precarious as it was, Krissy felt her life was perfect - she had fun for free, and was never wanting for anything. Sex, food, drugs, and fun were all paid for with the shape of her young body in that tiny black dress. It never occurred to her that the lifestyle she lived was slowly ruining the figure that funded it.