Chapter 2 - Friday Night

Friday night and Paul was at their meeting place at 6:30. At 7:15 Anne had still not shown up. At 7:30 she finally crept in looking nervous and scared. Paul was pissed at this point, all worked up thinking she had shown him up.

And to compound matters, she was dressed in jeans and a high-necked blouse. Hell, she looked sexier some days working at the video store. Paul got up, grabbed her arm, and hustled her out of the tavern into the parking lot.

"Why the fuck are you late!?" Paul hissed.

"My Dad made me stay until we all finished dinner," Anne whimpered.

"And what's this fucking shit you have on?"

"It-its my clothes, its what I wear when I go out."

Paul was pissed, really pissed and lost control. He reached out and slapped Anne hard - once each way. He was lucky that no one saw him - very lucky. And suddenly realized that he might have just blown all of his chances with Anne. And that he could very well have been arrested if the slap was witnessed.

Anne was in shock. She had never been struck in her life and now, she had been hit so hard that she had almost been knocked down. But Anne did not have a lot of willpower. Her father had spent the last 18 years teaching Anne that she was to follow the rules laid down. Anne looked at Paul and was very afraid. But she didn't run because she didn't have the willpower to confront him.

Paul suddenly realized that Anne looked like a deer staring at a car's headlights. She was petrified and realized what was going to happen to her if she stayed. But she couldn't run. She just wasn't capable of it. Paul reached out a hand to caress her cheek. Anne flinched but didn't run. He caressed her cheek and Anne shivered in fear wondering if, in any second, the touch would turn into a slap.

Anne's mind was in a whirl. The touch on her cheek felt good. But she was expecting another slap at any second so her body was scared of it. Her mind didn't know how to handle equating a caress with the pain of a slap so it just gave up - and she shuddered with uncertainty. Paul reached around to the back of Anne's head and held her head so she was looking straight at him. He got a thrill out of the look of fear in her eyes. Paul's emotions were on a roller coaster ride too and found that look of fear the anchor to grab onto. He liked that look, and he was going to use it.

"When we're out on a date," he hissed, "I expect you to dress sexy." "No pants, no blouses that hide everything."

"Bu-bu-but I can't go out in a dress. My father won't allow it." "And I don't have any sexy dresses - I'm sorry but I don't."

Oh god he thought, this is just great. Well what the hell, he made more money than he spent. He had a reasonable amount in the bank. And he couldn't think of a better use. "Ok, ok, Anne," he said pulling her to him and holding her, "we'll take care of this."

Anne just let go and sobbed and shuddered in his arms. He was the one who had scared and hurt her. But he was the one now taking care of her and she needed someone to reassure her. So she clung to him for safety - safety from him.

"I'll go buy you some clothes."

This actually got Anne excited - new clothes without her mother vetoing her more daring choices. They turned to go into the mall. Paul with his arm around Anne.

At the first store they went to, Paul saw dresses he would like to see Anne in but she kept picking more conservative arrangements. Anne wanted to be more daring, but she didn't want to advertise slut. But if Paul was going to spend his money, he was going to get his money's worth.

Finally after telling her no for the fifth time, Paul pulled Anne aside and told her that he would pick the clothes. When he started to protest he slapped her very lightly on the cheek - it looked like a love pat to the sales girl. And with that pat, all the fight went out of Anne. Paul picked a number of outfits. All of them exceedingly tight. All with hem lines at most, an inch below Anne's ass. All with necklines that showed off Anne's breasts. One dress was transparent everywhere.

Paul had her wear one of the skintight dresses out of the store. And one outfit was basically slit up the front and back but the slit didn't show if the wearer wasn't moving - otherwise everything could be seen. He next took her to an underwear store.

"That crap you have on underneath has to go too," he told her. He didn't even give her a chance to pick in the underwear store. He picked out some garter belts and patterned stockings. He also picked out some bras and underwear. All of the bras showed her nipples and all of the underwear has a split crotch.

Anne looked up at the pile of underthings to try on, started to say something, and then looking at Paul's face, the fight left her. It was easier to give in. She went to the dressing room. While she was changing into one outfit, Paul walked in carrying a corset (he timed it to walk in when she was naked).

Anne tried to cover herself in front of him. Paul pulled out the picture of her and asked, "If you want to cover yourself up, I can show this to the salesgirl so she knows what you look like? Or you can end this Bullshit and start changing."

Anne turned and tried to hide as much as possible while trying on the panties and bra. However, Paul made her stand up and turn around showing him the outfit. He continued for each additional outfit, having Anne stand up, and directing her through different poses.

With each outfit the poses got more obscene. Until Paul had her leaning back, spreading her pussy lips. He then pulled out the picture and got her to exactly mimic her pose from the picture, commenting on how dirty she looked.

Anne felt totally beaten down and used. Paul was making her act like a complete slut. And yet she was a virgin. She had only posed for the picture because everyone made fun of her for being the one cheerleader to chicken out. And now she was showing Paul her pussy and pushing out her tits toward him. God she wanted to die.

Paul then had her change into a corset and it seemed too big - at least he said so. He then asked the sales girl to come in and check it. The sales girl looked at Anne a little strange and Anne just wanted to crawl up and die. She moved her hands to cover her tits and pussy.

"Put your hands down little girl," Paul said. "The corset seems too loose to me, do you think we should go one size smaller or 2?"

The sales girl put her fingers between the corset and Anne's skin and said, "Depends on how tight you want it." Anne felt like an object on display being handled by the sales girl.

"Ok, we'll take all of this and the smaller corset. But leave this garter belt and stockings and panties for her to wear." The sales girl walked out and Anne changed into the remaining underclothes, black mesh stockings, a black garter belt, and black crotchless panties.

Then as she pulled the dress on Anne realized that the dress wouldn't reach the stocking tops. She just couldn't go out like this. Meanwhile Paul had picked up all of her other clothes and walked out to pay. Anne had no choice. She walked out to Paul and told him that the stockings weren't covered.

"I know - I like you this way."

"But I can't go out like this."

Paul didn't argue, he just grabbed her arm and walked her out. Needless to say, almost everyone in the mall looked at Anne who looked like an absolute gorgeous piece of jailbait. But Anne didn't see that. She had her head down because she was too embarrassed to look up. They must all think I'm a filthy tramp she thought.

They reached Paul's car and drove to a nearby nightclub. With Anne's looks they weren't about to card her. So they went in to dance. Every slow dance Paul danced with Anne and told her how she looked so hot, so sexy, and so slutty.

And with each comment Anne felt worse and worse. She wasn't a slut, she couldn't be. And her mind became even more confused because Paul held her close and danced slow, which had always meant a boy cared for her before. And he held her like he cared for her. But he kept telling her she was a slut.

And during the fast dances they would sit at a table in the back. And Paul would talk to her as though she was his girlfriend. Nice, caring comments and questions. Anne felt totally pulled apart. The hormones had been hitting her for several years now but she hadn't yet really fallen in love with anyone.

She had discussed sex with her girlfriends but she didn't really understand it. She had nothing to use as a reference point. And here was this older man who was kind and caring one minute, and told her she was an absolute slut the next. And he was always holding her close as he called her a slut. The holding felt so good, but the words made her feel so low. And with her mind overloaded, Anne stopped thinking. She held Paul back while dancing.

She listened to his words. She kissed him back. And she shook with shame as he whispered in her ear. "You are such a little slut," he told her. "Look at you here in your tight dress showing off your body to everyone in the club. No wonder you spread your pussy for those pictures. A slut like you has to show her pussy to everyone. Can you imagine all of the men in here looking at your legs, looking at your garters, and dreaming about throwing you down on the ground and fucking you? You'd like that wouldn't you little slut, having all of these men standing around your naked body jacking off and cumming on you."

"N-n-no - please don't say that," she sobbed. Anne buried her face in Paul's shoulder and sobbed quietly. She hung on to him because she needed to hide and pressed against Paul she could at least not look at the others in the club. She felt so cheap. She really did look like a slut dressed the way she was. But she wasn't a slut she kept telling herself, she wasn't.

Finally it was approaching time for her curfew, She had to be home or she wouldn't be allowed out for two weeks. Paul was no dummy. When she mentioned the curfew, he took her out to the car. Once they were in the car he had her get out of her new clothes.

Before he let her dress in her old clothes, Paul insisted that Anne kiss him. Anne was scared. Here she was, naked in a car with a man who had told her she was a slut, and he wanted a kiss. She held back and put her arms up.

Paul reached over and pulled her to him. "Kiss me or you're going to have to do a lot more" he told her. She put her lips up and felt his tongue pushing at her mouth. She let her mouth open for his tongue. Jesus, she isn't using her tongue or putting her arms around me thought Paul.

He backed off and slapped her face again. While not as hard as the earlier one, it did hurt. All the emotions were too much, Anne started sobbing. Paul lifted her head up and made sharp taps on her cheek while telling her "When I kiss you, you use your fucking tongue and put your arms around me slut. Now do I need to slap you again?"

Anne slowly moved her arms around Paul and he mashed his lips down on hers. They kissed with tongues intertwining and arms around each other. Paul fully dressed and Anne naked and crying in shame. Paul broke the kiss and told Anne "you kiss like a slut but only a slut would be kissing on a first date naked in the parking lot."

Paul enjoyed the feeling of holding a naked Anne in his arms. A naked Anne who was crying her heart out. It felt so good to feel her body shudder in his arms. Her naked body, so firm and fresh felt so desirable under his hands and arms. While he couldn't go too far, he didn't want to scare her off, just feeling her breasts pushed against his shirt, and caressing her back, was more of a turn-on than any woman Paul had ever fucked.

Anne acted like she had been slapped again as Paul kissed her again. Paul loved it, the naked body in her arms, Anne's body shaking with fear and shame, and the salty taste of the tears running down her face. Finally Paul relented. "Get dressed," he said.

Paul then drove toward Anne's car, as she got dressed. He handed her one of the new outfits as she got out and told her to meet him at his house tomorrow afternoon for their next date. Anne looked at him in shock. She couldn't do this. Not anymore.

"By the way, I mailed a picture to your father today. Make sure you wait for the mailman tomorrow first and get the envelope out of the mail."

Anne's face went white with fear.

"Oh, and I do know his business address if I ever want to make sure he gets the picture." He drove off laughing as Anne hurried home, knowing she would spend the entire day waiting for the postman. And then she would go to Paul's house - she really didn't have any choice.

And Paul spent the night reliving the feeling of holding the naked scared delicious Anne in his arms.