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An orange sliver from the street lamp seeped through an opening and slashed across the inside of the box. She breathed white clouds into the cold as her heart raced. That dream always made her wake up feeling scared and alone. She pulled the mound of old blankets tighter."Emma, Emma where are you? I'm scared!"She sat upright, as the silence of the empty box howled back at her soft sobs, street machinery answered her cry. She closed her eyes tight and the soft comforting arm of Emma wrapped itself around her shoulders and held her tight, like she used to."Sssshhh, it's all right. Everything's gonna be okay." Salina's crying subsided as the comforting words soothed her.Soon, she lay back down; feeling more relaxed as the dream-vision subsided. Her eyes began to close as she drifted off, the needles and pins sensation in her temples all but gone.One night, not long ago, Salina had been sleeping in her alley in some of the boxes that she always kept behind the dumpster. In the middle of. I suppose my routine - that's what got me into this, I guess.Each morning, after my mother went to work, I had three or four hours before my shift at the factory started. I would get the box from under my bed and dress myself. The stockings, the suspender belt, the bra, the patent heels.I would brush down my long hair and apply my make up, slip into a short mini-dress and admire myself in the mirror. I loved turning from Fred to Freda in the mornings. I'd always put my panties on last, for some reason; I just liked it that way. My Mother's friend and occasional lover, Uncle Steven, caught me dressed once. He promised never to tell anyone.I would lie there, dressed like a cheap slut, dreaming of being firmly filled with cock and cum and used for whatever kinky fantasy my tormentors dreamed up for me.One morning, on my day off, I had planned to spend the whole day dressed. I was just admiring myself in the mirror when I heard a noise. I tried for a second to identify the noise, but.
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