Chapter 10 - Dancing

Over the next few weeks Anne learned to cope with her new body. The most difficult part was having to wear heels everywhere. She even got plastic heels to wear in the shower because it hurt too much to stand flat-footed for that long.

And all of the shoes Anne wore had very thin heels, Paul saw to that. Even at school. Balancing on stiletto heels is not always an easy task. And Anne's new chest threw off her balance. So she was always in danger of falling. This had the effect of making Anne very unsure of herself whenever she was standing or walking.

And Anne's new boobs totally threw her off balance. And she wasn't used to them so she would constantly bump into things or people. Or turn and knock something down with them. They were just always getting in her way and throwing her off.

The end result was that Anne became very unsure of herself physically. The only time she could relax was when she was lying down. And she was almost always playing with herself or fucking when she was lying down. So she started to equate sex with the only time she was physically confident of her body.

Anne was alternately repelled and excited by her new body. One minute she would look at her giant cow udders and shudder at the thought of her whore body. Then she would watch a movie where a big-titted whore was being tortured and would love squeezing her tits and loving how, even with both hands, she could not circle a single tit.

Paul had Anne tell him what she enjoyed watching when she masturbated to her porno movies. Anne loved watching women get pierced with needles. As she saw more and more needles pushed into a woman's breasts and ass and pussy she would rub her clit faster and faster. And she would tell Paul how much she loved watching it. She would tell him what was coming next. How the next set of needles would go through the woman's clit. And as the woman on the screen was screaming in agony, Anne would be climaxing and screaming with joy.

Then, as she came of off the climax, Anne would want to turn the video off. Without the build up toward a cum the films didn't excite her, they disgusted her. And the thought that she had just cum while watching it disgusted her even more.

But Paul would make her leave the film on, make her continue watching it. And make her tell him what she loved about it. And Anne would have to talk about the parts that minutes ago would have made her cum. She had to talk as though watching a needle pressed into a woman's breast was exciting and arousing.

Anne didn't even know herself anymore. Who was this woman telling Paul that these movies excited her? How could she even pretend that she liked something so vile. And as Paul would stroke her face and tell her that she was his special love slut, and that he loved watching her cum to these videos, she would look at Paul and realize how much she loved him, and how special he was to her.

And then Paul would tell her that she was a dirty little slut. A whore for dumping cum into. That she was just a little piece of fuck meat. That she was only good for one thing, but that he loved her anyway. And Anne would cringe as he told her this. But then Paul would point to her whore body. He would slap her big cow udders and remind her that only a whore would have tits that big. That only a whore would have a bare pussy and wear heels everywhere. That only a whore would sit and watch movies like these and get off on them.

And Anne would shake her head back and forth, no, no she wasn't what he said. The movies disgusted her. Her big whore tits disgusted her. This wasn't her. But even as she would be shaking her head, her body would be starting to work up again. The thought of how disgusting she acted when she was hot, the vision of the dirty little piece of hot trash should would be, that vision would get her hot again.

Her disgust with herself would turn her back on. And so, she was in a vicious cycle, coming down from a cum, getting disgusted with the dirty little tramp she had become, and getting turned on by the image of the dirty little tramp, to cum again.

And Paul would watch her, and talk to her, and see her cum again and again, all afternoon long. A sleazy little whore using a vibrator and her hands on her pussy, her clit, and her tits. And every once in a while he would see in her eyes the look of a trapped animal, An animal trapped in her own cycle of lust. Wanting to break out but not able too.

And with Anne's new body, Paul had had to take her shopping again. None of her old clothes fit anymore. But that was ok. This time he took her to the lingerie store and had her stand in the changing room with the door open as the sales girl brought her clothes to try on.

And through it all, other shoppers, mostly women, but a few men, would walk by and look in on Anne changing from one bra to another or from one corset to another. And Paul would keep her facing the open door so that they could see her bare pussy and humongous tits.

And Anne could hear them. The women would make comments like "whore" and "slut" and "cow." And the men would look right at her, imagining their pricks buried in her pussy or between her tits. And Anne would hang her head in shame, knowing that all these decent, good people knew that she was a dirty little whore.

Oh god, she was so disgusting. And then Paul told her to play with her pussy while waiting for the sales girl to bring back some more stockings. And Anne, who had zoned out to avoid the comments of the people walking by, just dropped her hand to her clit without thinking and started to rub her clit.

Oh god, it felt so good. The debasement up to now had made her feel totally disgusting. So almost immediately her body started to respond to her fingers. Yes, she was a dirty little cunt. Oh god yes, everyone knew she was a whore. Just looking at her they knew what she was.

Anne was so wrapped up in playing with herself that she didn't notice the sales girl at first. The sales girl stood in shock looking at Anne. Here was this woman standing there, naked, with giant whore tits and a bald pussy, rubbing her clit and building toward a cum. She couldn't believe it. How totally disgusting.

Anne suddenly realized what she was doing and stopped. She saw the look of total disgust in the salesgirl's eyes and turned away in tears. Oh god, how could she be so dirty. How could she. She was sick, just plain sick. And Paul grabbed her, turned her toward him, and slapped her, asking her how dare she be so disgusting.

Anne started to collapse to the ground when Paul grabbed her and held her up, his head next to hers, his mouth by her ear. "Rub your clit," he whispered. "Make yourself cum."

Anne froze in shock. WHAT? DO WHAT? She couldn't do that. That was too disgusting even for a slut like her. The sales girl already thought she was a dirty whore. She couldn't keep playing with her clit.

"Now slut," Paul whispered through clenched teeth. "You know you have to cum you whore. Think of yourself playing with your clit in front of this innocent little girl. She's probably never seen another woman nude before. And you're going to show her what you look like when you cum. She will think you are such a dirty little pig, and she'll be right. Cum for her, show her how dirty you are. You know you want to do it."

And with each word from Paul Anne got hotter and hotter, until she couldn't stand it anymore. The thought of appearing to this young girl as a complete slut was getting her hotter and hotter. Oh god, she had to cum. She just had to. And Anne dropped her hands to her clit and started to play with herself again.

The young sales clerk looked on in utter disgust, rooted to the spot by the utter depravity of it. She had never seen anyone have sex, and here was some big-titted whore masturbating right in front of her. How could she. How could any woman sink to such an utterly low level of depravity.

Anne saw the look on the girls face, closed her eyes in shame, and came and came and came. And as she came she sunk to the floor, still rubbing her clit. And then finally she stopped, kneeling on the floor, with her head hung in shame, unwilling to look at anyone.

And Paul bent down next to her, pulled her head back, and said, "Anne, you need to apologize to this young girl. This sales girl here is a decent and good girl, not a dirty little whore like you. You need to tell her you're sorry you did this in front of her."

And Anne looked up at the sales girl and realized with a shock that she wasn't that much different from Anne. She was 17 or 18, probably had a boyfriend, friends at school, just like Anne. No, nothing like herself. This was a good girl, a decent girl. This girl was disgusted by Anne, and she should be, Anne was nothing like her. Anne was a depraved big-titted whore. She was not at all like this girl.

And as Anne realized how different she was from this girl. This girl who was exactly what Anne used to be, she started to cry. Oh god, she had sunk so low. Look at her, naked, making herself cum in front of a stranger, on the floor of the changing room. Oh god, she was so dirty. "Tell her you're sorry."

"I--I'm s--sorry," Anne whimpered and started to cry.

"Tell her you're a dirty little whore and you can't help your self." Oh god no. "I--I'm a dirty little s--slut - I can't stop m--myself - I have to cum - I'm--I'm sorry. Please forgive me," Anne begged.

And at that point the sales girl lost it she was so disgusted she threw the clothes she was carrying onto the floor, turned and ran out of the changing room and slammed the door to the room, finally giving Anne the privacy she wanted.

"Oh Anne, my dirty little whore. Why can't you control yourself? Do you realize what that girl thinks of you my little slut? She thinks you're the most perverted person in the entire world. And she might be right you know. Do you think that's possible my little fuck toy?"

And Anne looked up at Paul with horror on her face. Oh god, she was so dirty and perverted. She hadn't ever seen the contrast before between what she had been, and what she had become. Oh god, she was so filthy. Oh god help her. And Anne threw her arms around Paul and cried, "Ooh no, oh god no. What have I become. Oh god help me."

And Paul put on arm around her back to hug her and whispered to her, "It's okay Anne my little slut. I love you Anne. I love your big cow tits and your shaved whore pussy, and your dirty slut body that masturbates in front of innocent little girls."

And as Paul talked to Anne his other hand went down to her clit and started rubbing it.

Anne stiffened immediately. 'Oh god no, no,' she thought, 'Don't do this.' I'm not a slut, I'm not. Why am I getting turned on by this? I can't be, its too dirty. Oh god I should be ashamed by this and I'm getting turned on by it. No, no, n --- "OH GOD, OH NO, OOOHHH." And Anne came.

And as she came she cried even more, because only a true sex slut would cum now. And Paul continued to rub her pussy as Anne came and came and cried and cried. Until finally she could take no more and collapsed. And Paul looked down at his lovely slut, awash in tears and sweat, wrung out from cum after cum, and smiled.

It cost Paul a $300.00 tip to stop the sales girl from calling mall security. And as Anne walked out the store she heard her call her "whore" and flinched as though hit. Because the truth hurts.

Paul was invited over to Anne's house for dinner, to thank him for saving their daughter from the bum who had punched her. Anne's father, mother, and younger sisters all thought Paul was wonderful. And Paul charmed all of them.

Anne was incredibly nervous the entire time. She didn't know how to act with Paul in front of her parents. And whenever she started to relax, Paul would make some comment, innocuous to the rest, that set her off. She was mostly quiet, deferring to everything he said.

But through it all, there were looks of care directed by Anne toward Paul. She couldn't hide her love for him. Of course her parents thought it was the looks of a young girl for an older man who had saved her. Not the looks of a sex toy for her master.

And when Paul asked if he could take Anne dancing that night, her parents said ok. He was a nice boy who had saved her. And she seemed to like him. Yes he was a little old, but they knew him, and that made it ok. So Anne and Paul left to go dancing, with Anne's parent's permission.

Once they were in the car, still in sight of Anne's house, Paul had Anne start undressing. Once she had stripped and was naked, Paul threw her clothes in the back and handed her, her outfit for the evening. It was one they had bought earlier in the day.

The skirt was a white thin material that tightly stretched around Anne's waist and was basically transparent letting anyone view her cunt and ass. For the top, all there was, was two white suspenders, each about 2" wide that went up, over her shoulders, and attached in the back. The straps went over her nipples but didn't cover much else of her tits. And with her big tits, that left a lot to be seen.

The bottom of the skirt had garter belts attached that then attached to her stockings, which were also white. And then to top it off, she had white lace gloves and white 7" heels. It wasn't the same as being naked Anne realized, it was worse. Because everything could still be seen, but the clothes were a reminder that most people wore clothes that did cover them up.

And when Anne stood up, the full effects of the skirt became even more obvious. The skirt was only about 4" wide unstretched. The combination of the garters and suspenders stretched it to a decent length - above her thighs. But where it ran across her pussy and ass, it was only 4" high. It didn't even cover all of her pussy or ass.

Anne was a whore. And as she imagined the evening in store for her. As she realized how she looked, she shuddered and started to finger her pussy. Oh yes Paul she thought. Take me and use me. Show your little whore to everyone. Make me suck their cocks and cover me in cum. Fuck me all night long. And Anne came on her fingers thinking about the night ahead.

Paul pulled into the parking lot of the strip club. He parked the car and got Anne out. Anne looked around wondering what this was going to be like. As they walked up to the door, Anne barely able to walk in her 7" heels, she was starting to get nervous.

Inside she actually relaxed a little. All the other women in there were dressed like she was. It was actually comfortable to be among other women dressed the same way. Of course they all worked there but still, it was nice not to stand out.

Paul walked her up to 2 chairs next to the stage and sat her in one, sitting down next to her. He looked up on the stage where a woman was spreading her pussy for the crowd. He pulled out a pile of tens and slapped one up on the stage.

The dancer on the stage moved over Paul's way to collect and he handed a 10 to Anne. "Put it up on the stage slut."

Anne took the 10 and placed it up on the stage. The dancer looked at her funny, and reached for it, spreading her legs giving Anne a beaver shot as a thank you. Anne blushed and looked away.

"Don't look away whore - you paid 10 for that beaver shot" Paul told Anne. "Here, hold this 10 up for her and she'll let you put it between her garter belt and leg."

"Wha-what?" asked Anne shocked.

"Give her the 10 now." hissed Paul. "Before I get pissed."

Anne turned back toward the stage and held the 10 out, her hand shaking. The dancer came over, pulled Anne's hand over, and helped her deposit the 10. The dancer then leaned back the give Anne another beaver shot and as Anne turned away, she heard Paul say "look at her pussy slut. You paid so you look." Anne stared as the woman spread her pussy lips giving her a view of her pussy.

For the next couple of dances Paul let Anne just watch. And Anne found herself enjoying the show. These women were sluts. Maybe not as big a slut as she was but there were someone she could relate to. They were not from a different world like the sales girl she had cum in front of earlier. These girls wouldn't mind if she played with herself here.

Anne started to enjoy the show, one hand slipped down to her clit and started to rub it. God that felt good. This was so nice, That girl up there looked good, sort of like the one who had her tits bound and whipped in one of her favorite films. Oh god she would love to see that, to see that woman bound to the stage, her tits tied tight in ropes and whipped with a cane. God she would love to watch her scream.

And as she fantasized, she started rubbing her clit faster and faster. Several of the people near the front started watching Anne instead of the show. And as Anne realized they were watching her she rubbed her clit faster and faster. Oh god, it felt so good. Oh yes she wanted to cum. And then when she was about to cum Paul grabbed her hand and pulled it away. "NNNOOOoooo!!!" she cried. "Please let me cum. Please let your little whore cum."

"You can cum, but first give the dancer some money. Give her enough to come over here and spread her pussy for you. You can play with your clit while looking at her pussy."

Anne grabbed the pile of 10s from Paul and put them all up on the stage. The dancer came over, and seeing the pile, immediately dropped her g-string, laid back, and spread her legs for Anne. Anne immediately started frigging her clit while staring at the dancers pussy.

It looks so gorgeous thought Anne. All bare like mine. Oh I'd love to see it whipped, that would make me so hot. Oh god, she's pulling her pussy lips open, she's spreading her cunt for me. Oh god, I'm going to cum I'm going t--- "OH GOD!" Anne yelled as everyone looked over at her.

The manager ran over. "God damn it, you can't do that her. I'm going to get arrested. Get out of her you fucking whore" he said. Anne looked up stricken. Oh god no, she was too slutty even for here. Paul looked up and calmly said "how about this. Instead of throwing her out, let her dance. She just needs an outlet for her urges. If you kick her out she'll end up blowing everyone in the parking lot and you'll be in even more trouble. Let her dance."

Oh yes thought Anne, let me dance. Don't kick me out. Let me spread my pussy for everyone in here.

"Ok" said the manager, she's up.

And with that Anne walked up on the stage and started to dance to the music. She wasn't very good but she had an incredible body. She shook her tits and spread her pussy. And the customers could tell she was hot. This wasn't a fake act like most of the dancers did. They could tell the girl up there, the one with the big whore hooters and the bare slut pussy, she wanted to fuck every man in the room.

And Anne loved it. She was acting like a complete slut and the men were all cheering for her. This is where she belonged. This was where the new Anne could be herself and be accepted and appreciated for what she was. And she danced and gyrated, and without even touching her clit, she came. Up there on the stage in front of all those horny men she fell to her knees as she came.

And for the next several months, almost every Saturday night, Paul would pick Anne up from her house for a date. And he would take her to the strip club where she was one of the most popular dancers. And Anne loved it because she could sink down to her most depraved level and the customers loved her.

But Paul was wrong about one thing. It didn't work off her urges. Every time, as soon as she finished her number, Anne went out to the back alley. And back there she would suck off every man who came back for a blow-job.

Because the dancing wasn't enough. She had to have the sex. She had to be used by the men in the club. She needed to be drowning in cum. To have it in her hair, on her face, and all over her lovely big tits. She needed to be their fuck toy.

And finally Paul had to stop Anne's career as a dancer. The night she blew 86 men. It wasn't that it was too many for Anne. But at this rate the police were bound to notice. Hell, at that rate sooner or later she would end up blowing someone who knew her.