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He was still deep in concentration when the blonde who had said her name was Candy walked out of the back bedroom. She was smiling lazily, and winked at Nathan as she shot her thong at him like a rubber band. Laughing briefly, she descended the front steps and got in her car.

Dad staggered into the hallway a few seconds later. Hearing him coming, Nathan shoved the red thong into his pants pocket, and stood to see his father wearing a white t-shirt, and a pair of faded beaten jeans.

"God damn son, where the hell did she come from, and who the hell is she?" George Prescott asked his son.

"I met her at a strip club last night. We were talking and I told her about you, guess she decided you needed some cheering up," Nathan lied.

"Well you go ahead and tell all them strippers about your poor old man then ok?" The older Prescott laughed.

Shortly they were eating a pizza Nathan had ordered, and discussing the issue of Nathan paying rent. They agreed that he would pay two hundred dollars a month, and that his father would just hold it until they had enough to put a deposit on a rent house that didn't have wheels on it.

After George had gone to work, Nathan contemplated going back to the club to see if another stripper would manage to leave some hair on him. He'd just use it to have her leave some underwear with him, and voila he'd have his lock. That's when it occurred to him that he'd have to pay the cover, buy two Cokes at stupid prices, and then come up with another twenty-five to fifty dollars to pay for the dances. Since he wasn't working the following week, he decided to figure something else out.

He fell asleep on the couch that night not thinking of the book's list as he expected, but strangely fixated on the image of his left hand grasping Trish's hair, and his right hand repeatedly slapping her ass, leaving bright red handprints when he pulled it back.

Sunday was spent contemplating what to do about the list, when it finally came to him. If he couldn't afford the strip club, he'd just go the cheaper route of hitting a regular nightclub and see what was going on there. Monday arrived and so did Candy, right at four-thirty. She continued to show up every day that week except Wednesday, which Nathan assumed was her day off along with Sunday since she hadn't shown up then either. His demand to the hair when he cupped it in his hands had been for her to show up before work everyday, and give dad an amazing sexual encounter. Obviously it was working. Nathan spent the rest of the week lounging, and trying to figure out what he would want of these people he obtained charm locks for. He did manage to squeeze in a trip to the grocery store to replace the mac and cheese style fare they had with food more along the lines of steak and potatoes. Dad had actually seemed to like this change almost as much as the great sex he was getting five nights a week.

By Thursday boredom was setting itself firmly in the front of his mind, and he was itching to hit a club the following night. Fridays, he had decided would be better, because the regular work crowd would be out. Some clerk type from the company called him later that afternoon, and gave him an address for the site next week. On a whim of boredom and desire, Nathan decided to go to one of the local clubs Thursday as well as Friday. Telling himself it was worth the extra money just to not sit at home the whole damn time.

Dressed with a black t-shirt that was strangely beginning to feel tight, tucked into a pair of jeans that had a pair of black canvas sneakers sticking out of the bottom, he jumped in the truck and went club hopping. Nathan had thought hard about where he wanted to go, and headed out on the freeway for a different part of town. The side of town with the university on it would probably show more promise anyway.

The scratched pickup was easily the worst vehicle in the lot when he parked in front of Club Torrid. It wasn't saying much though, considering there were only maybe a dozen other cars anyway. A smaller club close to the campus, and completely unknown to Nathan, Club Torrid had a large violet sign over the blacked out front doors, and Nathan could hear dance music, the kind that has no words, just rhythmic noise.

Just inside the dark club doors was a kiosk. A short man with big arms jutting out of his white t-shirt was standing behind it. The man looked briefly at Nathan's drivers license, and put a red armband on his left wrist before nodding slightly and gazing back at the door.

Twenty feet past the kiosk, the club opened into a large open area with matching bars facing one another along the left and right walls, a moderate dance floor had been placed in the middle of the room, and tall tables with stools circled it. The only other feature in the place was a modest deejay booth in the center of the far wall.

The place was defiantly loosely packed, maybe two-dozen people at the most, and they all seemed to know each other. Not caring what he did next, he walked across the dance floor towards the deejay booth. On his way there several interesting things happened. There were maybe ten people actually dancing, and as he walked through the small group, he got close to a redhead with pale freckled skin. She was clad in a tight green shirt, and a short flowing black skirt. After looking her over briefly Nathan caught a shot of her in his head. In the shot she was laying lamely on her back as he humped between her legs. She would alternate between yawning and rolling her eyes in the direction of his alarm clock the entire time.

More than a bit surprised by the sudden insight, Nate decided to postpone his trip to the booth and mingle a bit. Dancing around the main crowd he edged closer and closer to a few of the girls on the floor until he got a sight, and then danced away, edging himself towards someone else. He did this for two songs, and got a variety of images. None of them as depressing as the first one, a couple even seemed on the verge of climax in his mind. But nothing even remotely as interesting as the night he fell asleep seeing himself spanking Trish.

Deciding that he wasn't getting anywhere he set himself back to getting to the deejay booth. Half way there Nathan knew he should have just gone straight there. Now he didn't really care what the shot in his head showed him. This girl was interesting at a glance.

Bright pink hair parted neatly in the middle and hanging just below her cheekbones, and accented her striking cheekbones. A silver hoop pierced and divided her bottom lip just as neatly, drawing his eyes to her full and glossy lips. The girl was wearing a black shirt from some band that Nathan didn't recognize, and had ripped the collar so that it slid over the top of her left shoulder giving only a remote hint at her cleavage.

Within five feet Nathan took note of her dark blue eyes, and the pair of silver hoops in each ear. Upon reaching the counter of the booth, the sight came, and instead of picturing her having sex with him, it was a very interesting vision indeed. This girl was still naked like the others, but kneeling on the carpet, facing away from him with her head bent forward, the small ridges of her spine slightly visible through unblemished skin. His knees weakened when his mind's eye refocused to reality, and he had to lean casually on the booth to retain his composure.

Pulling her headphones down around her neck, she addressed him. "What's up?" she said in a businesslike tone, clearly expecting him to name a song.

"I need your phone number," Nathan intoned seriously, not really knowing where the audacity to say it was coming from.

The girl hesitated for only a second before responding "Eight-six-seven-five-three-oh-nine".

But she didn't replace the headphones, he thought before continuing.

"I'm serious, you're the only interesting girl in here." Nathan crossed his arms on the counter, and leaned in to be heard better, keeping his eyes on her. They were so blue he thought he might see waves at any moment.

"You'll also notice I'm the only chick working," she said with a casual air.

Still no headphones, she's waiting for the offer, he told himself.

"Ok then, when does this place pick up?" Nathan said, switching gears, and glancing at her tip collection.

Maybe three bucks...not much.

"On a Thursday, keep dreaming. This is...as busy it's going to be." The girl was now turning away from him and digging in a crate of LPs. Below the black shirt she wore a pair of low-slung gray cargo pants. A red lacy waistband was slightly visible over the top of them.

"Ok then, after you're done I'll take you to get something to eat. That way at least you get a meal out of a shitty night for tips." He laid it out for her, knowing he'd just turn and leave the club all together if she said no.

"What's your name?" She was standing now with a hand on either side of her headphones.

"Nathan, Nathan Prescott." He was grinning now, feeling her answer before it came.

"Ok Nathan, I'm Dani, and I'll be looking for you." She flashed a grin, the hoop in her lip flashing on a random dance light, and pulled the phones back over her ears.

Hours did not pass fast enough for Nathan. Staying planted on a stool for the rest of the time at the club, he watched her. He got excited when she danced to the music, he got excited when she studied the turntables, and he especially got excited when she refused to play something for the redhead who was rolling her eyes in his mind earlier.

Just before one a.m. she raised her head to make eye contact with him, and indicated the door with a hand. Almost knocking his stool to the floor, Nathan rapidly got to his feet before taking a deep breath and making his way to the door. True to her word, the club hadn't gotten any busier the entire time, and only the faces had changed slightly in the crowd, not the size of it.

Out in the parking lot, he leaned nervously against the passenger door of his truck, and waited. His nerves were getting the best of him and had his foot tapping on its own accord when she stepped out of the front door to the club. Not quite what he expected, he could barely see her behind the two cartons of LPs she was carrying stacked on top of each other.

Jumping off the truck, Nathan crossed the lot to her and lifted the crates out of her hands.

"Thanks, at least you have a truck," she said.

"Hey, it's paid for," Nathan replied slightly irritated.

"No, I really mean it, I was gonna take the bus." Dani added. She really could have insulted anything she wanted too. Nathan was letting her lead the way back to the truck, and finally go to admire her body all at once. Drinking it in with every step. Through her cargos, he could see her bottom wiggle slightly with every step. When she got to the truck and turned he saw the shapely outline of her chest heaving subtly behind the black tee.

Nathan made quick work of putting her crates in the back, and opened the door for Dani to enter the truck. They went to a small diner near the club, the kind with an old waitress, and milkshakes almost as thick as ice cream. Over bacon and eggs he told her about his job, and his dad. Dani followed him up with her own life in the college dorm, and trying to get a degree in psychology. As it turned out she was a year older than him, and in her second year of college.

The deejay job was just a product of her love of music, and more than a bit of an attempt to meet people. Nathan commented on how that seemed to be working, and swore he saw her flush a little. After the food was gone, they talked for another thirty minutes before getting up to leave. Dani told him how to get to the dorms to drop her off, and wrote her phone number on a scrap of paper she found in the truck's glove box before getting out.

He promised to call her the next week, and drove home completely alert and awake despite the early morning hour. The girl was intriguing, and he couldn't help but wonder what it was like to kiss her with that silver hoop in her lip. Nathan was trying to figure how to interpret the way she was kneeling in his mind as he slipped into bed and fell asleep.

The heat in his room became too much to sleep through at noon on Friday. Groggily he got up still seeing Dani in his mind's eye. Wanting to spend the next three days as lazily and simply as possible, Nathan was unprepared to find his father on the couch in a bad mood.

One look at George Prescott told Nathan that dad was upset about something. The man had his feet propped on the dining table, with his chair tilting back on two legs. He was staring at the ceiling with his mouth in a slight frown.

"What's wrong dad?" Nathan pressed.

"Its that girl, Nate. She comes over almost everyday, but doesn't' say anything." Dad didn't take his eyes off the ceiling.

"Not a word dad? She just comes over and gets down to business?" Nathan asked as though he had no idea what was going on.

"Well every once in a while she let's an 'Oh god' or two slip out," Dad said, finally taking his eyes off the ceiling to smile a bit at Nate.

"I'm going to tell her today that I'm not interested if she doesn't want to do anything else," Dad continued.

Noting this, Nathan excused himself to take a shower, and wandered back to his room. Once there he locked the door and pulled the book from it's hiding place. Then he went to get the red thong he had placed in it to mark his page. About to begin rolling it in his hands, he saw text on the page opposite the last page he had read.

The lone paragraph detailed how one could perform multiple charms using the same lock, and could have the charm be in effect only once, or have it be persistent just by choosing an exact time or not. It even made an example of the charm he had used on Candy, explaining that since he had not said before work on a specific day, that the charm would work on any day that she had to work.

Enlightened, he began rubbing the thong between his hands, and whispered into it what he wanted to happen, beginning with "In one hour..."