Atonement

Forward

Nickels and Dimes is a work of fiction. Characters and events come strictly from the imagination.

This is the third in that series about two truckers, owner operators (O O's), who, while finding trucking to be enjoyable and profitable, do not find it to be sufficiently lucrative to provide money for their eventual retirement.

Their solution is to take money from people who have plenty and won't miss what they take. Many of those from whom they steal are people involved in occupations that are on the wrong side of the law themselves. In this installment you'll find Steve trying to make amends to Ilysa. He makes progress, but finds the road to atonement to be a long one.

In each of these stories you will find sex, drama, and conflict, even, perhaps, a bit of humor. If you like the stories, please let me know. If you dislike them, I'd like to know that as well. How else can we improve what we provide our readers if they don't let us know what they like and dislike?

Thank you so much for reading this story. I hope you enjoy it. Kindly leave a comment at the end of the story.

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Table of Contents

Chapter 1: Breakfast with Molly

Chapter 2: I'm Outta Here

Chapter 3: A Warm Shower

Chapter 4: Lunch, Then Shopping

Chapter 4: Rick Gets His

Chapter 5: The New Ilysa

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Chapter 1: Breakfast with Molly

She glared at him. "I'm sorry," he repeated with an insistence that made her raise her eyebrows. "Come on I'll take you out for breakfast." They sat across his small kitchen table. He was trying to look her in the eye, but his eyes kept drifting to her breasts. It made her uncomfortable that he constantly ogled her. She realized that she was slumping, her shoulders rounded. She'd not have that. Let him look at her breasts if that's what he wanted. She'd not be less proud of herself because he was leering. She sat back. Let him look and see what he was missing.

"Let's put some clothes on and go," he urged her. "You certainly can't go like that."

Indeed, she was naked, as was he. They sat at his dinette table drinking coffee. The clock in the background, the only furnishing in his apartment that didn't show hard use, showed 5:30 AM. They had just arisen and showered.

She held out her hand, not for him to hold, but for him to look at. "You did that." Her boiling anger almost prevented her from speaking.

He looked. He knew he must look. Her wrists were chafed from the handcuffs, but the skin was not broken. She was more humiliated than injured, he thought to himself, but he knew he dare not speak it. Maybe she'd been a little frightened as well. "Let me put some lotion on that," he said.

"You get the lotion," she spat at him, "but don't you dare touch me." He was standing, listening and, though he spoke to her, his gaze was on her nakedness.

He didn't want to take his eyes off her, but even though he knew he mustn't stare or appear to stare, his eyes wandered from her face. God, she's beautiful, he thought as he went to the medicine chest in the bathroom.

He returned with the hand lotion and placed it near her. She examined it, then rubbed it on her hands and wrists. He stood at her shoulder watching. Sensing his closeness, she turned and found his groin at her face. "Get away from me," she said straining to lean away from him. "Get that thing out of my face."

"I'm getting dressed," he said evenly as he headed for the bedroom. She sneaked a look at his butt as he walked away.

She sat for a minute looking at her wrists, fuming. Finally she, too, headed for the bedroom where her duffle bag had been tossed near the bed. Unzipping it she tried to remember what it contained. What had she frantically stuffed in it in her rush to get away from the Braunhoffers? She pulled fresh panties from its depths, but paused to recall what he'd been like. It wasn't pleasant, "but at least he never handcuffed me."

Steve stopped dressing. "What?"

She hadn't realized that she'd said something out loud. "Huh?"

"You said something."

Confused she said, "It wasn't anything." She returned to finding clothes for breakfast.

Jeans, sandals, a scooped neck pink t-shirt would do. No need for a bra. It's just breakfast, she rationalized. She hated bras. At home in Sweden she'd rarely worn them.

They left for an all-night eatery close to his apartment. The sky was gradually turning gray. The sun would appear shortly. Traffic was almost non-existent. As they drove he tried for some small talk. She said nothing. "I'm sorry," he repeated, exasperation in his voice. She ignored him.

The parking lot was well lighted, but relatively empty. Inside the diner was old and shop-worn, but seemed clean enough. Tired dark red vinyl covered the seats of the booths along the perimeter, the back, and one side of the restaurant. The kitchen, with a counter facing into it, took up the remaining side while the cash register, manned by a sleepy woman guarded the doorway at the front. Faded vinyl gingham tablecloths covered the tables.

The woman at the cash register told them to sit anywhere they liked. Ilysa chose a table, then selected a seat across from Steve. They waited in silence as menus were presented. Their red haired waitress was younger than any of the other wait staff. She made no attempt at conversation. Her smile belied an end-of-shift fatigue that showed in her movements.

They took the proffered coffee and supplemented it with orange juice. Ilysa continued ignoring Steve as they selected their breakfast fare. The waitress returned for their main order. "Two eggs over easy with dry toast," she told the waitress. There was little pleasantness in her voice.

"Same for me," Steve said. Then, looking at the pretty waitress, he added, "You look a bit tired. Been a long night?" He smiled.

She smiled back, grateful that someone noticed how hard she worked. She glanced at the distant, frowning woman across from this engaging man and said, "It sure has. Fortunately I get off shortly." She chanced a look at the girl again. The girl was staring off into space, paying no apparent attention to their banter. "I'll really be glad to get home and go to bed. Good thing there's no one there to keep me awake." She stole another look at the girl. There was no reaction. Neither wore rings.

Steve blinked and smiled, then winked and nodded. The name tag said Molly. He'd find a way to exchange numbers with Molly.

Molly, Ilysa noted, wore the trappings of her name, red hair and porcelain skin. Steve's attentions were understandable.

In due time the food came. Molly served Ilysa first. Then serving Steve a plate with two eggs over easy, she bent near him. She bent lower than she had earlier. Her uniform had been designed for breakfast. It left virtually everything to the imagination except her shapely legs which the short skirt made no attempt to hide.

Nonetheless when she leaned toward him, he noticed she'd opened another button. His gaze flowed from her chest to her crotch. She could feel his gaze softly caressing her.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot your toast," she said in a voice unconvincing in its surprise and alarm.

Come back as often as you'd like, Ilysa thought to herself. You can have him. I don't want him.

With some effort Molly tore herself away from Steve and returned momentarily with the toast. "Anything else," she asked looking directly into Steve's eyes. She broke away and including the girl said, "More jam or butter?" They shook their heads. With a last glance at Steve, she turned and left. Her hips seemed to sway more now than before.

Steve watched as Ilysa pulled an extra napkin from the holder on the table. He watched as she wrote his name and phone number (where had she gotten that?) on it. He was puzzled when she didn't put it in her purse.

They ate in silence. Ilysa was angry, but it didn't affect her appetite. She was wiping the plate clean with the last of her toast when Molly returned with a coffee pot. "Anything else or are you ready for the check?" Molly beamed at Steve and ignored Ilysa.

"Just the check, please," Steve responded returning her broad smile. Molly reached into her apron and produced a check on which she'd written "Thank you, Molly". It was standard in this establishment. Underneath she'd written ten digits. No punctuation, just ten digits without any separation.

"Molly, this is for you," Ilysa said suddenly startling the waitress who looked with amazement at the napkin being handed her. Sure that she'd seen what it was, Ilysa slipped it into Molly's apron. "He's into handcuffs," she continued, showing Molly her chapped wrists, "and he's a cop." Molly's eyes widened. "You can show him your boobs now if you want. I showed him mine last night." Without a word Molly hurried away as Steve, head in hands, groaned loudly enough that several nearby heads turned.

Ilysa stood and walked to the cash register where she made it obvious she was waiting for Steve.

The ride back to Steve's apartment was even more quiet than the ride over had been.

When they walked in the door to his apartment, Ilysa said, "I'm going to nap on the couch. You keep your hands off me." She went to the bedroom and pulled the blanket off the bed which she tossed on the couch and, covering herself, lay down.

Steve found another blanket and lay on the bed. Five thirty had been much too early for either of them.

Chapter 2: I'm Outta Here

Rick called around ten. "Figured you two sleepy heads would be up by now," he said brightly to Steve. Then conspiratorially he added, "Did you nail her last night? She's a great piece and so willing."

Steve groaned. Was his friend telling him how easy she was and he'd completely screwed it up? No, was all he said.

"Bullshit," came the reply. "At any rate I want to pick her up. Can I talk to her for a minute?"

Steve handed the phone to the waking Ilysa. "It's Rick."

She took the phone, "Halla," she said forgetting herself. "Sorry, I meant hello."

He chuckled, "Hey, I just wanted to pick you up to talk about where we go from here. That OK?"

"Yes, I'm ready anytime. I need to buy some more clothes and personal things at some point as well."

"That's fine. We can run by the mall 'round lunch time, have lunch and you can shop. I'll be there in about fifteen minutes."

"OK. It's a nice day. I'll meet you on the street."

"OK. See you in a few. Bye."

She looked for a call end button, pushed it and handed the phone back to Steve who had returned to her side on hearing the call end.

"Ilysa, I'm really sorry. It won't happen again." He was pleading.

Glaring at him she rose from the couch. She said nothing, but Steve could see she was thinking bad thoughts.

In fact, going through her mind at that point were various thoughts including 'It'll be a cold day before you get me back in bed again', and others which dealt with relieving him of his manhood on a permanent basis.

She headed for the bedroom. There she used the bathroom, then tossed her belongings into her duffle. She exited the bedroom brushing past Steve, and out the door. Rick found her on the sidewalk sitting on her duffle some minutes later.

Chapter 3: A Warm Shower

When Rick pulled up, she wanted to desperately to hug him. She needed warmth and humanity. Instead she threw her duffle in the back seat and got in the front.

"Actually," Rick began when she was seated and before he pulled away, "we need to get you some new ID so we can get you an apartment and a car." He looked at her, "You do drive, don't you."

"Ja. And we Swedes even drive on the right side of the road." It should have been a humorous remark, but her voice was raw.

"I know a guy that can get what you need. We'll go over there to get a picture made."

"I'll put a bra on." There was anger in her voice.

"What's wrong?" Her voice was making it clear that time spent with Steve hadn't been agreeable.

"Drive. I will tell you." She waited until they were in traffic before starting her commentary. When it appeared to be a good time, she found it difficult to talk. Finally, she blurted out, "He handcuffed me to the bed, and . . . and . . . ," she was stuttering trying to find and use the distasteful word. She couldn't bring herself to say the ugly word so she said, "He used me."

She broke down in tears. "I would have made love to him," she said, her words almost lost in the sobs, "but he handcuffed me and used me. I had to sleep handcuffed to the bed!" The sobs were overwhelming. She put her face in her hands and let herself cry.

"I'll kill him!" Rick was furious. They finished the drive to Rick's home with Rick repeating, I'll kill him! at intervals and pounding the steering wheel.

She felt better inside Rick's house sitting on his couch, but she still cried with her face in her hands. Suddenly she felt someone lighter than Rick sit next to her. A hand pressed a handkerchief into hers and a concerned feminine voice said, "Rick told me."

Ilysa looked over at her. Janet was still in a bathrobe apparently in no hurry to get dressed for the day.

"Steve called and told Rick what happened. He's really sorry and I believe him. I've known him for a lot of years. He's a good guy, but that's no excuse for what he did."

"I want to kill him!"

"I don't blame you. I believe I'd kill someone who did that to me." They sat in silence for a minute or two. Janet put her arm around Ilysa. "We have a guest room. You can stay here until you find an apartment and get a car. Rick is planning to use the proceeds from the last endeavor on you, so don't worry about money. Would you like to take a nap now?"

Ilysa rose and began to pace. "No, I want to kill Steve. I want to rip his . . . how do you say penis in English?"

"That's pretty much it. We just pronounce it a bit differently." She laughed a little. "Come on, I'll get you a knife. How big a knife do you want?"

Ilysa looked at Janet surprised, saw her smile, then laughed and the women laughed together.

"Come upstairs with me and let's talk for a minute. I'll get dressed and go to lunch with you and Rick. Then we can go shopping together.

She took Ilysa's hand and led her to the master bedroom. The easy chairs in the sitting area were covered with clothing tossed or laid there by the room's occupants so she sat on the bed. "Could I make up the bed for you," she offered.

"Sure. That'd be great." Oblivious of her guest Janet dropped her bathrobe on one of the chairs atop other clothing. She continued preparing to dress by removing her silky pajamas. As she moved about the room it was impossible for Ilysa not to notice her and noticing her, to compare their bodies.

Ilysa finished making up the bed and sat on it. Janet sat as well and took her hand as if to talk. She paused as though suddenly realizing that she was naked. "You don't mind me getting dressed while we talk do you."

"No, it is common at home for people to do this," Ilysa responded.

Janet looked at her in a way that Ilysa could see she wanted to say something. The moment passed. Janet broke eye contact and in a light tone said, "Come on, let's do something different. We both need a shower. Get in with me and I'll wash your hair while we talk.

Maybe this was the American version of a sauna, Ilysa thought, and why not. She definitely felt unclean after the night with Steve, even after their early morning shower. "OK," she said, "we can talk about the best way to use the knife."

Their giggles had an undertone of cruelty to them.

Ilysa dropped her clothing on the bed and met Janet in the shower. It would really feel good to be clean again. Janet offered her hand as Ilysa stepped into the spacious shower stall. Several shower heads provided a plentiful, warm spray of water. A curtain of warm air, rather than a shower curtain kept the water in the shower and the bathroom dry.

"Let me do your hair first." Janet picked up a bottle of shampoo as she spoke. Then, without waiting for an answer, she turned Ilysa around. Using a hand-held sprayer she wetted Ilysa's hair then applied the shampoo. As she did their bodies came together. Her breasts rubbed against Ilysa's back. Their hips met and separated, then met again. "Doesn't that feel good?"

Indeed it did. After her harsh use by Steve the night before, the soft touch of a woman was welcome. She leaned on Janet. Janet paused her shampooing and reached around Ilysa taking her breasts in her soapy hands. Ilysa tensed, but relaxed as Janet gently soaped them with the fragrant shampoo. She lightly squeezed her nipples generating a pleasurable sensation that pulsed throughout Ilysa's body.

Ilysa alternated between tension from this new experience and submission to its pleasure. Finally she gave in and leaned heavily against Janet's naked, soapy body. It was at this point that Janet's fingers began to move lightly down Ilysa's body as if to cover it in fragrant suds. Ilysa closed her eyes waiting for Janet's fingers on her most private part. She tensed again thinking of it, then gave Janet permission to go where ever she would.

Janet's fingers stopped momentarily just above. She added shampoo to her hands, then turned Ilysa directly into the spray from a wall mounted shower head. Adjusting the shower head, she aimed the soft spray directly at her pussy, then gently soaped the puffy lips. As she moved her fingers up and slightly inside, she whispered, "Let yourself go." The touch on her clit was electric. Janet squeezed it lightly as she soaped. She squeezed and released. Each time she released a finger entered Ilysa.

Janet's left hand squeezed gently Ilysa's nipples as her right hand worked her pussy. Ilysa's breathing was rapid. "Scream, if you'd like," Janet whispered. "Anything's OK here."

Soon the solid walls reverberated with the sounds of her pleasure. Ilysa leaned hard against Janet.

A soft knock. "May I come in?"

"No. Perhaps another time. This time it's just for us girls. Ilysa's had enough of men for right now. Find a video on the TV and take care of yourself."

"Not the same," he said, "but after listening to you two, I have to get some relief."

"Take care of yourself right now and I'll take care of you this evening."

"Deal." He muttered it unhappily and shuffled away as the girls turned their attention back to themselves.

"Bend over and put your hands against the wall," Janet told Ilysa. "I suspect Steve used every entry. I'll see if I can sooth this one."

The low sounds of Janet's voice from the bathroom accompanied by small whimpers from Ilysa gave Rick a vivid fantasy of what Janet was doing for her. Rick wished he could be there as well. He'd find a time, he thought. Stroking himself he let his fantasy run until warm come landed on his belly and covered his hand.

He lay stroking for a minute or so then rose and cleaned up. He left the room expecting the girls didn't want him there when they got out of the shower.

Indeed, once dry the girls napped for an hour or more before getting ready for the lunch Rick had promised.

Chapter 4: Lunch, Then Shopping

It was nearing two o'clock when they were seated at a small cafe in the mall. The conversation no longer focused on Steve, but rather on Guaranteed Transport, the company Sandy and Rick had formed as their trucking business, and its subsidiary division, Truckers' Annuity as they had come to jokingly call their efforts to fund the retirement plan. They spoke quietly while the wait staff serviced their luncheon.

As the new and untested member of the enterprise Ilysa sought to take on meaningful responsibilities which would demonstrate her value. She was to get an apartment (not too expensive) and a car (also not too expensive). She would study and pinpoint upcoming locations for sources of revenue for Truckers' Annuity. She would also learn about trucking with an eye to taking over the responsibilities of the broker Rick and Sandy used to locate loads. She would become the face of Guaranteed Transport. In this learning process she would visit local businesses to understand their trucking needs and solicit their business. She would also maintain their website.