A New Life (Lost Lamb & rpfiend_123)

[Lost Lamb]

It was astonishing how it took little more than a five hour plane ride to end up in the middle of nowhere. Sophie spent her entire life growing up in the heart of Los Angeles; it was easy to feel displaced at the sight of simple rolling hills and the scarce collection of milking cows. Though, the true horror sank in once she’d realized a necessity to actually call a taxi company and talk to another human. There were no ubers or lifts. There weren’t any clubs to sneak into and any secret parties that occurred out here were likely held in a barn, and not in the sarcastic way. That was likely the largest structure most people had in these parts. Waiting for her ride, attempts were made to process how people around here survived.

The driver was overly friendly. In most cases, this was taken as polite and welcoming but the moody teenager just wanted to be left alone. He droned on for several minutes about the weather, attempting to drag some sort of conversation out of her until she finally snapped, “Look, I have a ton of travel cash. I’ll tip you more if you don’t try to be polite.” The entire time her eyes remained glued to the flawless screen of her cellphone. With no free wi-fi, she would be relying on cellular data. The longer the ride persisted the fewer bars she had.


The rest of the ride was silent.

Sophie’s parents had divorced at a young age. Left with her mother and rather hefty alimony and child support checks, the both of them learned to live a lifestyle that most people had to work for. It wasn’t long before there was a step-father in the mix, yet as she grew and began to run with the wrong crowds, little effort had ever been put into correcting her wrongs. The gifts were plentiful and abundant in countless attempts to bribe the young girl into proper choices. She always had the latest fashions and with plenty of cash constantly on hand, nothing ever stopped her from spending every dollar she was given. For years her uncle’s farm was the threat of choice to “knock some sense into her” whenever she was caught out late or when they smelled alcohol on her breath. What drove them to the edge was her new habit of picking credit cards from their pockets and purchasing fine jewelry after claiming to be “window shopping.”

It was a two hour drive and when they stopped, the girl was convinced there must have been a mistake. Nothing but a single-lane graveled path led to a two-story farm house about half a mile back. The driver was hasty to pull her designer suitcases from the trunk and set them at the side of the road. She paid the man, including a fifty percent tip. She didn’t care, it wasn’t her money. With a groan Sophie did her best to collect her belongings and roll her bags along the gravel.

She was not dressed for a farm. In fact, in this area she wasn’t dressed appropriately for her age, either. Nothing but a flowy, off-shoulder crop top draped over or torso and exposed far more of her leopard print bra than most would appreciate. Her modesty was barely maintained by means of stylishly ripped booty shorts. Her legs were fully exposed, her skin well-tanned in accordance to a true Californian lifestyle. All through the struggle her lengthy blonde tresses whipped about her face and neck, the wind throwing it any way it pleased. Finally, she arrived at the front door. Acting as though the past fifteen minutes hadn’t been a struggle, she lazily ran her fingers through her hair and straightened her sunglasses before knocking on the door.

 

[rpfiend_123]

Normally by this time of day, Matthew would have been out inspecting the perimeter of his fence, making sure there were no holes for members of his meager cattle herd to escape through. It was a common occurrence here in Northern Oklahoma, but one that he'd rather avoid nonetheless. He'd finished up some other chores near the house early and came inside to get showered and changed. Even a few hours in the Oklahoma spring sun would have the most experienced farm hand sweaty. So now he sat at his kitchen table, reading the latest email from his sister Penny; updating him on Sophie's travel itinerary.

Today was the day that his niece would come and stay with him on the farm. He'd seen her a couple times in the past 5 or so years, but only when he could find the time to travel out to LA. They'd never in a million years find themselves out at his farm. His sister had been afraid of cows ever since she was bitten by one at a petting zoo when she was 5. The thought made him smile as he sipped his coffee, the steam fogging up his reading glasses a bit. He ran a thick, calloused hand through his damp, greying locks and closed his laptop, leaning back to stretch as he enjoyed his rare moment of relaxation. His red flannel button up was loose around his toned midriff, but hung snugly at his broad shoulders. At 6' 3", he was quite an imposing figure, and the farm had left him in impeccable shape for his age.

He had been offered to take Sophie on after his sister's emails became more and more dramatic. Each one talking of the 'hellion' of a girl and how she was at her wits end. Matt figured she was just being a bit too harsh and chalked it up to Penny's weak will to deal with a wild child. His logic that 'maybe she just needed a few months hard work' seemed like a simple enough plan to him, and to be honest, he was glad to have the help and the company of a family member he'd lost touch with as of late.

His most recent memory of Sophie was from a few years ago when he'd visited LA the last time. He didn't remember her being that bad, at least not as bad as his sister had described her lately. He just thought she'd gotten a bit taller, a bit prettier, and a bit more demanding, but nothing that wasn't expected of a 13 year old. He was shaken out of his train of thought when a sharp knock came at the door.

He rose and walked through the modest, yet nice farmhouse along the hardwood floors and hunting trophies on the walls. As he rounded the stairs, he opened the door, his eyes widening when he saw a gorgeous young woman standing where he had expected a little girl. An involuntary chuckle left his mouth. "Sophie!" His broad, white smile spread across his face and he leaned forward to pull her into a big bear hug, squeezing her against him. "It's so good to see you! How was your flight?" He grabbed her bags, tossing them into the hall and shutting the door behind him.

For a moment, he'd been so lost in studying her face to see traces of his sister and ex husband; traits that mixed well on the young blonde. It was after he'd familiarized himself with her again that he noticed the manner in which she was dressed. 'Woah.' Was all the only word he felt appropriate to say in his mind. He knew it definitely wouldn't suit farm work, and he already began wondering how he'd broach the subject of modesty if he were to take her into town. No woman dressed like that around here. Well, no woman that didn't work at the local strip joint.

 

[Lost Lamb]

Admittedly, she knew very little about her Uncle. He was her mother’s brother, which for some reason was just weird to think about. They’d gone out to dinner as a family once, right? She recalled being greatly distracted by her current best friend at the time who was going through some sort of a fashion crisis at a party. Of course it was a fleeting and vein issue to focus on, making for a fairly rude dinner conversationalist and a missed opportunity to bond with family. She only understood that he lived on a farm. The thought never occurred to her that there were even different types of farms.

His approach was audible and as the door swung open, Sophie was momentarily stunned. In her home town, Uncle Matthew had always seemed out of place. He didn’t spend money on fashion, he knew nothing of celebrity gossip, and he didn’t seem to enjoy much family drama. Now that she’d seen the open fields and empty skies, standing before him things began to make sense. He was very different from the men walking the streets at home. What was a good word for it? Rugged. Not gang-related tough, just hard-working. The simplicity of it was refreshing.

While his overall vibe was growing on her, the greeting he offered wasn’t received with enthusiasm. Involuntarily pulled in for a hug, the two were able exchange scents. After all the travel, a lingering aroma of floral perfume still lingered on her skin. She could smell his body wash along with any aftershave or deodorant that might have been applied; it wasn’t unpleasant. Asked how the flight had gone, she offered little more than a deadpan stare through her shades. “It sucked.” While it was clear there was no enthusiasm about playing farm girl for the next few months it was unclear as to whether or not she was actually upset with him at the moment.

Hoping to avoid discussing any of her travels, she stepped to one of her bags and produced a charger for her phone and began searching for an outlet. Finding one behind an end table in the living room, she mindlessly bent and leaned over the table, creating quite a sight. Those shorts strained with every step she took and hardly seemed capable of handling such an action.

“Hey, what’s the wi-fi password,” she asked casually before straightening. “Mom told me to make sure I’m on it so I don’t make the cell bill go up.” Ah, and there it was, the first of what would come to be countless lies she’d likely attempt to pepper in and take advantage of. Penny had expressly mentioned no internet. She wanted its use to be minimized and by keeping it all on the cellular tab she’d be able to monitor it much more easily. There she stood, thumbs at the ready expectantly waiting for him to just give up the goods. She hadn’t even taken her glasses off; she was already acting like she owned the place.

 

[rpfiend_123]

He noticed an overall apathy with the way she 'hugged' him back, if he could really call it that. Her lazy body posture and 2 word answer had him wondering if this was all his sister had really complained about. Maybe she's just a lethargic teen? Too cool to care about anything. He had been like that once. It had been a long road to turn him into the excitable, optimistic man he was today, and he'd hoped he could rub some of that experience off on her. Make her care again. "Oh, well, I'm sorry it sucked. Don't worry though, you're in God's country now. Pretty land out here, right?"

He bent down to pick up her bags and was fully intent on walking them up the stairs to the guest bedroom when she bent over to plug in her phone. If his face had shown surprise at the young beauty when he first saw her, it was nothing compared to what he saw there. It took him a good 3 seconds to realize it was his niece's back end that he was currently ogling; standing there with his mouth agape.

He clamped his eyes shut, turning around to walk towards the stairs, shaking his head vigorously from side to side. "Dude, you creep." He thought. "Were you REALLY just staring at Sophie's ass?" Sure, objectively, as forms go, it was as tight and appealing as any, but just the thought that he could be attracted to family made him a bit queasy.

He was halfway up the stairs, his dark washed jeans tugging pleasantly at his firm back side, when he heard her ask for the wifi.

He stopped. She told her first bold-faced lie of the trip and she hadn't been in the house 5 minutes. He was a little shocked, bit by bit, he was already beginning to see a person he didn't like. Dishonest, disinterested. A frown replaced the smile he'd worn since she got in. However, he really didn't feel like imparting any sort of parental discipline just yet. He was determined to try his philosophy of 'kill em' with kindness' before yelling and punishment.

"Well, actually erm.." he paused "Your mama said no internet. Sorry, kid, but when you run out of data or whatever, you're out." He turned and began to trudge back upstairs. "Your room's up here." He pushed open the door to a large, comfortable bedroom with a rocking chair draped with a quilt and a queen sized bed with a brown comforter. It was plain, but had a large window looking out over the pasture. He returned to the top of the stairs. "Bathroom up here is broken so you'll have to use mine. Just knock cuz it's through my bedroom." He went back down stairs and walked into the kitchen. He figure he'd let her get settled before he threw too much of the 'house guest' stuff at her. He shouted back "I'm makin' lunch if you're hungry!" And set about making himself a sandwich, an identical one for her, just in case.

He leaned against the counter munching away as the thoughts of her bad attitude.. and her backside.. became harder to shake out of his mind.

 

[Lost Lamb]

So far the entirety of her displeasure had been focused on the fact that she’d been uprooted from home and forced to play in the mud all summer. Now that Uncle Matthew was becoming a hindrance to her access to friends and social life, it wouldn’t be long until he was zoned into her moody crosshairs. His refusal earned a moody groan; a noise that most children knew would be wise to keep to themselves than actively make it audible. Sophie had no fear of him hearing her disdain. “Whatever.”

She dragged the last of her suitcases up the stairs at his heels, observing to make sure they were bumped or damaged in transit. The bags themselves cost a pretty penny and preservation was of utmost importance. Introduced to her bedroom, it would be difficult to read much into her opinion of it due to the blank nature of her stare. After mentioning the state of her bathroom a sigh of agitation was her only response. Finally she was alone. While the room held basic amenities she still felt uncomfortable. Growing up, possessions and objects had been the only method she knew of defining herself. Now, graced with little more than an old rocking chair and simple bedding, the displacement was fully settling in.

Unpacking was chosen as the method of keeping her nerves at bay. Dozens of outfits were sorted and either hung in the closet or folded and slipped into her modest dresser. She was amazed how the clothing that was packed for the trip practically filled the majority of her storage space; this wasn’t even half of her full wardrobe. Jewelry, hair ties, and any other pointless bauble was messily dropped atop the dresser. Her phone buzzed, she could see it was her mother. Rather than bothering to read the text she dropped her phone on the bed and went downstairs.

While entering the kitchen she dragged her sandals and took a seat at the table while idly peering about. Noting the empty counter tops, a genuine emotion of surprise registered over her expression. “Oh my god, you don’t have an espresso machine, do you?” The deep concern prompted her to pull her glasses up and rest them atop her honeyed locks. Where many people would have taken a question like that as a joke, the look in her wide, hazel eyes confirmed the personal importance his next answer would hold. Was she expecting him to pull one out of the cupboard?

Regardless of his answer, she picked apart the offered sandwich, leaving nothing but lettuce on bread. What, had she gone vegetarian? Or did she have something against lunch meat?

 

[rpfiend_123]

He stood in a daze, chewing away like one of his cows out in the pasture. A glazed look over his dark eyes as his inner monologue rambled on. "I'm gonna have to take her to get some new clothes.." "But did you see those SHORTS.." "Stop it, perv." As he heard her come down the stairs, he was honestly relieved that she didn't stay up in her room pouting all day. He tucked one thick, muscular forearm under his bicep and slouched over, the shirt tightening a bit around his core.

He gave a good natured laugh when she lamented his lack of espresso machine. "Nope. But I do have some Folgers in the pot over here." he reached up and grabbed a black coffee mug out of some beautiful wooden cabinets overhead, setting it on the table. "You want some?" He grabbed the clear pot from the coffee maker, half full of black liquid and poured her one without waiting for her to answer. "It's good. Got it last week." It wasn't that he was scared of her, no, if anything he just wanted to make sure he didn't ruin any hope of getting through to her in the first day. So he'd stick to his niceness strategy, for now.

But her constant slough of eye rolls and groans was wearing thin on his patience. He knew that much for sure.

He sat at the table across from her, eyeing the half eaten sandwich. "Not hungry?" He smirked "That's ok, you will be tomorrow. Although umm.." He stopped, once more letting his gaze trail over her exposed stomach and legs. "We should probably go get you something else to wear. Those duds you've got on won't last a day out in the field" Checking the leather banded watch on his thick wrist, glancing back up at her "And there's no way you could wear that to church on Sunday. If we leave now, we can make it before the store closes. Come on, it'll be my treat." He stood up, "Great idea, Matt. Shopping! That's what she likes to do in LA. She should feel right at home doing that." He felt a bit proud of himself as he strode over to the end table and grabbed his keys.

He opened the kitchen door, leading out into the garage where his big blue truck sat. He stopped, turning to lean against the doorway in the kitchen, waiting on her to respond. Of course, even if she didn't go, he'd head out anyway. At the very least, she needed boots, jeans, and a shirt that covered her whole body.

 

[Lost Lamb]

When a mug of Folger’s was offered as a remedy to her desire for an espresso, he earned a look similar to a freshman attempting to understand an advanced lecture in rocket science. Her delicate brows furrowed with confusion as the ceramic cup was placed before her. Back at home she grew up around countless cafés that boasted the freshest locally grown or free trade coffees in an attempt to stay competitive. With a single glance this pre-ground, massively produced concoction would likely sum up the majority of her experiences with this rural community: watered down and popular due to nothing more than a lack of other options.

In an attempt to sate her uncle’s never-ceasing cheer, she tasted it. The liquid was sour, and not as a pleasurable undertone. The sensation of it coating her teeth and tongue was unpleasant. “Maybe I’ll just stick to tea,” she muttered.

At the suggestion to head out for an appropriate outfit for farm work, Sophie felt a strange mixture of emotions. Sure, she was curious as to what exactly his version of “downtown” had to offer, but she was learning to avoid expecting anything grand. Still, the opportunity to find anything of interest was alluring on its own. Maybe she’d be able to find a pair of those cute daisy dukes that always came back in style this time of year. “Yeah, okay. Let me go grab my purse.”

After dumping the remainder of her coffee into the sink she ascended the stairs and took a few moments to gather some necessities which included her phone, varying products of makeup, a brush and a travel mirror. Despite the near guarantee that nothing overly eventful would be happening tonight, she took the effort to apply a peachy pink shade of lip gloss before freshening up her mascara. Sure, her bathroom might have been undergoing maintenance, but that didn’t mean the mirror was suddenly out of operation. Sliding the straps of her leather purse over her slender forearm, she headed back down.

The sight of a truck was almost intimidating. Sophie couldn’t recall the last time she was even in one. Though there was the one homecoming parade where a truck pulled the float she was on, did that count? Stepping up to get to her seat was strange and the well-worn yet cared for interior smelled of earth mingled with a lingering scent of hay. “Where are we going to go?”

Without waiting for a response, she was already texting. “oh my god it’s so boring here. It’s just as freaking hot as home but there’s no beach to visit or shops to walk to.” Hardly three seconds passed before a response had been earned.
“girrrrrl, don’t you dare pass up the chance to find a cute cowboy. you could so have one in like, a week. don’t you worry, I’ll hit up all your favorite places double time for ya and catch all the good deals.”
“no you don’t get it. this shit isn’t cute. my uncle even mentioned church! I don’t wake up on sunday mornings, that’s just like a fact”

And so the pointless back and forth conversation continued, leaving the majority of their car ride to sporadic hums and the occasional nod to half-heartedly reassure her uncle that she was paying attention when in reality it was blatant that he no longer held her interest.

 

[rpfiend_123]

It was more than apparent that Sophie had no interest in talking to Matthew on the 20 minute car ride to the humble downtown. He tried to make some small talk, but he could tell that the phone she was absorbed in would be her only conversation copanion as long as the battery and data lasted. He knew that wouldn't matter much. Especially out in the fields where service was suspect at best.

Main street was lined with 1 of each kind of shop that a small country town needed, and the few roads that crossed over it offered the town's only glimpse of 'modernity' with the 5 street lights it possessed. There was a tailor, a feed store, a grocery store, a couple dive bars and a gun shop. As Matt slowed to the 25 mile per hour speed limit, he cranked down his window and waved to some people on the sidewalk. "Buddy, how are ya?" He shouted to a particularly heavy set gentleman in overalls sitting on a bench outside the liquor store. "Matt! You ol' sumbitch. Doin' good." he drawled back.

Matt smiled to himself. He loved his town. The stark contrast to LA was something he was now aware of more than ever seeing as he had west-coast incarnate on the bench seat next to him. He glanced over at her, the tan expanse of her legs coming into view before jerking his head back to pay attention while he parked in front of Julie's Outfitters.

"Here we are." He said, stepping out onto the runner bar of his truck and then down onto the concrete. His wood soled brown boots making thud stomps along the sidewalk as he held open the glass door for Sophie to go in ahead of him to the. In the window were advertisements for Justin Boots, Cruel Girl Jeans and Stetson hats and fragrances. The bell dinged and he paused a few feet in, reaching to tuck his shirt in into his jeans, revealing a simple brown belt with a silver belt buckle. The shirt clung nicely to his midsection now and you could tell his body had little, if any, excess fat on it.

He raked his fingers through his hair, pushing his greying locks to the side and patted it down neatly. Just then, a pretty blue eyed blonde woman walked by, easily in her late 30s. "Hey Julie." He waved, his smile widening. "Well hey Matty." She replied in a sweet southern drawl, pausing when she caught sight of Sophie. "And.. who is this? Is this.." She stammered, her eyes obviously flitting over Sophie's exposed outfit.

"This is my niece." He said, quickly. "Fresh in from LA. She's gonna be helpin me on the farm for a bit." He reached over and gripped her shoulder, pulling her in firmly to his side and clamping her there for a moment before releasing her again. "She needs some work clothes. And a church dress. We'll just be over in the ladies section." He pointed, obviously knowing where it is as he strode away quickly.

"Well just holler if you need anything." She said as they walked past ailes of hats, jeans and boots until they got to a large corner of the store. Matt exhaled a bit, seemingly preparing himself for the insurmountable task at hand of shopping with a California teen. "Alright, you need jeans, boots, some tank tops and shirts, and a dress.. Now I umm..I guess just pick out whatever you want as long as it's that?" he said, leaning back against a load bearing wooden beam in the store, folding his tanned, exposed forearms in front of his chest. The muscles tensing in an agreeable manner.

 

[Lost Lamb]

Her attention remained glued to her phone the entire drive. The wide open spaces were no match for a screen that kept her connected to anyone on the planet. It was obvious that this was her usual course of communication. Her thumbs rolled at an incredible pace over the button-less keyboard much like a professional pianist would make belting out Mozart seem effortless. It wasn’t until they began to slow and approach the main center of town that she even bothered to glance out the windshield. Oh good gods, no. This couldn’t be it.

Internally she panicked. There didn’t seem to be a single beauty boutique or salon. Where the hell was she supposed to buy her makeup, the goddamn grocery store? Her mental meltdown was interrupted by her uncle shouting to someone at the side of the road. Her nose wrinkled; who just sat around this dusty town? As the truck pulled into a parking space Sophie attempted to look casual while absorbing the store front. In less than five seconds, she knew that there was going to be some problems. Hopping down from her seat and slamming the door closed, she approached the entrance and stepped through the door once held open.

Spotting him tucking in his shirt, she managed a chuckle. This was something to get formal for?

Sophie offered a small nod as Matthew mentioned a desire to browse through the women’s clothing and as they walked over to the appropriate section, she finally spoke once more. “Yeah, about that whole church thing,” she spoke in a tone that was generally used to explain to a child that their pet had died. “I don’t think I’ll be going to that. So that’s one less thing to shop for.”

Rather than give him a chance to respond, she opted for an immediate exit by heading straight into the forest of clothing. She had never been presented with so many different camouflage options before. In LA, the only people wearing it were hipsters in a facetious manner. It didn’t take long to draw the conclusion that there would be one cut of jeans which was, of course, boot cut. God forbid if any of these people ever decided to shake their wardrobe up. While pawing through the denim, she felt a need to explain her frustration. “Look, I’m a petite height and boot cuts just don’t flatter me. I’m supposed to wear skinny jeans and no shoes higher than the ankle to help my legs look longer. These just don’t go with my aesthetic,” she whined.

It was becoming increasingly obvious that without any form of coaxing or coercion, she wouldn’t be swayed to even bring a pair into a fitting room. The simple act of trying on a pair of work jeans was already becoming a struggle that he likely hadn’t anticipated.

 

[rpfiend_123]

Her curt response about church made a visible frown fall over his normally cheerful face. His eyebrows furrowed. He wasn't a particularly religious man, but Sunday mornings were explicitly reserved for First Baptist attendance. Everyone knew it. Everyone did it. He got to talk about farming conditions with the other farmers and see some friends in town. Also, it was usually a free Sunday lunch so he didn't mind. He'd mentioned to the preacher and some other congregants that his niece was coming in town, and they'd all been dying to meet her. Partly because no one new ever came to town, and also because Matt was well liked, and any relative of Matt's was surely to be just as nice. "They're in for a real treat.. If I ever get her there." He thought.

He was about to open his mouth in protest, but decided that it'd be best not to have that sort of discussion in public. She was already wearing thin on his patience and he didn't know how many more obstacles he'd have to overcome. "At least one more, apparently" He mumbled as she protested to the jeans. He followed her into the denim forest and smirked. "Well, lucky for you it'll just be me and the cows that see you in these and we don't give a damn how long your legs look." He turned and grabbed a pair of women's plain brown boots off of a display, pinching the tops of them between his thumb and forefinger; proceeding clockwise around the circular rack, bumping Sophie out of the way, he grabbed two pairs of jeans, tossing them over his forearm.

He worked quickly and silently, grabbing things in sizes on the smaller end of everything. She didn't have to tell him how petite she was, her body was on display for him to get that message loud and clear.

A few tanktops went over his arm next, then a couple denim and flannel button ups. Before long the pile on his forearm holding the boots was surmountable. He turned to Sophie. "Here we go." He said flatly, gripping her on her upper arm just above her elbow, not hard, but definitely firm enough to move her towards the dressing "room" which was really just a row of stalls with a thick quilt curtain draped in front of each one.

He didn't have to apply much effort, the disparagement of a good 100 bounds and a foot and change in height meant that he could move her there with ease. He let go, moved back a curtain, and set the pile down in a bench on the side, stepping out, a pleased smile on his face once again. He leaned against the wall and pointed his thumb towards the open room. "In ya go." Staring her down with a look that showed neither he, or she, was going anywhere until she went in.

 

[Lost Lamb]

The cheerful remarks certainly weren’t what she had been expecting. Back home all it took were a few complaints and deflecting comments to get her mother off track while her step-father never bothered to try applying any sort of discipline or follow-through. Being sent here was genuinely the first form of discipline she’d ever been exposed to, which came across as incredibly haphazard and unfair in Sophie’s eyes. If she ever had to rate her family’s communication skills on a scale from one to ten, three would be high-balling it.

Once he took the initiative and began pulling things from the rack, the teenager gawked in disbelief. Dread filled her as he haphazardly grabbed colors that were out of season and even a denim jacket that hadn’t been fashionable for years. Wide-eyed she stumbled aside, observing as he thoughtlessly grabbed ahold of some jeans before securing his grip at her own arm and guiding her towards the fitting rooms. “Oh my god, wait! Red doesn’t go with my undertones! And you can’t wear faded jeans with an un-faded jacket!”

Despite the protesting she was old enough to fear the embarrassment of arguing in a public store, regardless of how empty it was. Once he designated a stall for her to use and shot her a look that said this wasn’t a battle to be lost, a groan of disdain was offered. Her eyes rolled while turning away and approaching the stall before grabbing ahold of the curtain with her manicured fingers and tugging it across the entrance to conceal her. Though the word conceal might have been a stretch. The edges of the quilt curled slightly to create a small gap less than an inch at each side of the changing room. She either didn’t notice or didn’t care due to the lack of other customers. A few moments passed before she kicked her sandals off, set her purse down, and the sound of material shifting about finally began.

Her shirt was a simple process to remove while her shorts presented a bit of a challenge. Even unbuttoned and with the zipper lowered they clung to her curves just the same. After gently hooking her thumbs at either side and applying gentle force, she wiggled her hips and the designer denim began to yield. Her panties matched the bra; lacey with leopard print and straining against the curve of her ass as she bent down to slide the shorts down to her ankles. Her frame was lithe yet had clearly developed into that of a young woman’s. Her curves were dangerous, an easy attraction for any weak-willed teenager. No wonder she’d been sent to her Uncle’s care.

Sophie just sighed and started shoving her legs into some jeans. There was an immediate disagreement with these jeans. The waist was too high for her liking and just as predicted, the terrible flair of the legs to make room for a pair of boots took away from her illusion of height. She slipped on one of the tank tops and a flannel before sliding on the boots. It all fit properly, but she would always prefer something tighter than proper. Finished, she emerged from the small room in her new ridiculous outfit. “It all fits and this is the tightest shirt, do I have to try everything on?” She acted like seeing herself in proper clothing was somehow detrimental to her mental health.

 

[rpfiend_123]

For a few moments, he wondered if she'd storm out. Scream. Throw a tantrum. No, it appeared that, at least for now, she'd hit her limit of what all she would object to. Although the expected groan was added for good measure, Matt couldn't help but smile to himself as she entered and shut the curtain behind her. He left his position of leaning near the dressing room and sat on a stool a few feet away.

He pulled out his flip cell phone and typed a text to his sister, his calloused thumbs clicking slowly at the 1-0 number pad "Sophie made it here safe and sound. Getting her some new clothes that fit. Love you." snapping it shut, he tucked it into his shirt pocket and leaned back against the wall. Crossing one leg over the other, the jeans tugged tightly at his firm thighs. His wranglers tugging snugly at his crotch. Not that it was common knowledge around the town, only one or two women had been out with him, but the accomplishment of that denim to keep a package of his size at bay wasn't the least bit an easy one.

It was this ever-present struggle that made the next few moments even harder. Glancing up from his phone, he noticed a crack in the curtain, his eyes flitting there instinctively, and getting a view of denim that quickly dropped down to the floor. His gaze followed. The small ring of blue plopped on the ground around her ankles, and they somehow looked even smaller off of her than they did being stretched by her ample rear. He swallowed hard. "Don't do it. Don't look up." He repeated in his mind. Quickly, he lost the inner battle and he shot his line of sight up the gap in the curtain.

He could make out a patch of tan, a patch of leopard, another patch of tan and a small strip of matching lacey leopard print. His mind could fill in the blanks where her curves teased through the small slit. Breathing heavily, he snapped his head away, down to his lap. "Shit." having to reach down now, and adjust the slowly hardening member in his pants, he uncrossed his legs and tugged it to rest down one of his thighs. It was at this moment that he heard the curtain open and he looked up quickly, not registering the first half of what he said.

"Uh wh.. yeah.. I mean, no.. Looks good. You don't have to try on the rest. Just get em and bring em up to the counter with you." He said quickly, standing up and turning to head toward the register. At least the tall racks of clothing would hide his otherwise noticeable problem while he walked it off. He stood up at the counter, making small talk with Julia while he waited on Sophie to return. "Just put it all on my card." He said, slapping it on the counter when she did come up with the items.

"I know your mom gave you some spending cash and all, but for stuff like this, I'll get it. I don't like handouts." his tone suggesting that it was a conversation he'd had with her mom previously.

Before long they were back in the truck and at the house. It had grown late in the afternoon, and too dark to work. He was honestly just glad to get through the first day. He went to his room and changed into some grey sweatpants and a white vneck tshirt that was able to show off the small rippling details of his chest and stomach. "Hey Sophie." He said loudly up the stairs, "We've got an early start tomorrow so I'm gonna hit the hay. If you need to use the bathroom any time you're more than welcome." Settling into bed with the side table lamp on, he popped open a book he'd been reading on the Civil War. It was to this reading that he'd be able to doze off early, ready for the rooster to wake him in the AM.

 

[Lost Lamb]

Despite her uncle’s strange behavior, she jumped at the opportunity to cut the terrible fashion show short. It felt wonderful slipping her airy shirt back on and wiggling back into her shorts. In a sense she felt as though she was back in her own skin, which offered a small comfort regarding the massive adjustments she’d been forced into. After retrieving her bag and stepping back into her sandals, the balancing act began.

With everything draped over her arms, she simply plopped everything down in an uneven mess at the checkout counter. With a sigh, Sophie stepped back to review it all once more. There were already ideas forming as to how she could improve the shirts and jackets, likely destructive in nature that would end up agitating her uncle. He seemed to be finished with agitating her as they paid, lugged it all to the truck, and headed back home.

Once home she found it comfortable to crash at the sofa and continue whatever discussion had started over text during the ride home. She perked up at the sounds of him settling down for the night. Sitting silently for a few moments, she stood and padded as silently as possible over to her uncle’s computer. She hovered for a few minutes, fearful of being caught yet determined to attempt connecting with her friends. Fretfully, her fingers prodded at the mouse in order to wake the monitor. Just as the pixels jumped to life, he announced his retirement to bed.

“Yeah, fine!” She responded before peering back to the monitor. She was greeted with a blank screen asking for a password. “Oh for fuck’s sake,” she muttered. Giving up, she too headed up to her bedroom to change and ready herself for bed. Resigning for the night, she simply plugged her phone in to charge and browsed for a while before falling asleep with the device in her hand.

 

[rpfiend_123]

The next morning, Matt woke up on his own. His internal clock had left his wake up times consistent and early. The sun was barely beginning to stretch it's red and orange rays over the vast expanse of the Oklahoma plains. He woke up and stretched, yawning and running a hand through his dark hair. For a moment, he had almost forgotten that there was a beautiful teen sleeping upstairs in his home, but then something like a dream, foggy at first and then clearly pictured came into his minds eye. The visions of the day before quickly harassing his memory.

"Stop it." he grunted to himself aloud, his normally low voice even lower with the morning grog. Stretching once more, he slipped off his sweatpants and walked over to the dresser, pulling on another pair of snug, dark washed denim jeans. He then pulled on a faded black tank top, leaving his tanned, toned arms exposed from bicep to forearm. Shuffling out to the kitchen, he made the coffee, put a couple frozen waffles in the toaster. His morning ritual went on largely uninterrupted before he figured that Sophia would sleep all day if he let her.

Walking up the stairs, he leaned against her bedroom door, pressing an ear to it to see if he could discern any rustling. The last thing he wanted to do was barge in on her assuming she was asleep and catch an eye full of something that would make the next few months awkward. He rapped his knuckle lightly on the wood. "Sophia? You up?" He spoke softly before creaking open the door and peering in.

"Yup. Asleep." He grunted, leaning against the doorway, he decided subtelty was no longer the object of the wake-up game and flipped on the bright overhead light. "Good morning!" He shouted in a booming, cheery voice. "It's already 6 AM! Time to get up.!" He walked over and nudged her over the comforter, rolling her easily to the other side of the bed. "I've got coffee and Eggos!" His tone was undeniably jovial.

He turned to leave, but just before he did, grabbed the edge of the comforter and flung it off, letting it land on the floor. "We've got a lot of shit to do today! And I'll need your help. Come on." he clapped twice