The Cheerleader Picture

Chapter 1 - Introduction

The other day (night actually), while downloading pictures
from a.b.p.e.teen, he discovered one that had pictures of
three girls in it. It was labeled "George Washington
Cheerleading Squad" and the three girls were each lying
back, completely naked, and spreading their pussies.
While the girls each had nice bodies, what really aroused
him was the impression the pictures gave. They looked like
girls who, on a dare, had allowed themselves to be
photographed naked. The painfully obvious amateurishness of
the poses added to the allure. Because, while each of these
girls thought that one or 2 boys would see them naked, their
picture was now transmitted world-wide.
Paul had a job that was not terribly great. Not terribly bad
either. It paid well, and left him with quite a bit of free
time since it barely required his efforts 40 hours a week.
The day after viewing the pictures, and fantasizing about
the girls in the pictures, Paul was driving into work.
Shortly after leaving his house, Paul passed George
Washington High School.
While Paul was realistic enough to know that there were
probably thousands of high schools named George Washington,
in his fantasies the girls in the picture went to the GW (as
the students referred to it) near his house. For the next
week the girls in the picture remained center stage in his
dreams.
But time moves on and even the most intense fantasies wither
with age. A month later the picture had been replaced by
other pictures more recently downloaded, although it
remained on Paul's hard drive. And because of the passage of
time, Paul almost missed it.
Paul went to check out a video at his local store. A new
girl was working there and as she handed Paul his change he
suddenly realized, she was one of the girls in the picture.
At least he was pretty sure she was. He was so startled he
dropped his change. After mumbling an apology, he raced home
from the store, pulled up the picture, and looked.
He was sure it was her. But the nagging doubt came back -
what were the odds of this girl being here, where he lived.
He printed the picture out and drove back to the video
store. Yes, it was her. He had found his fantasy girl.
Needless to say, she came back to center stage in Paul's
fantasies. Over the next several weeks he became obsessed
with her. Every day he would rent a video, usually from her.
In the course of those weeks they became casual
acquaintances as they would exchange small talk. Her name
was Anne and Paul wanted her more than anything.
As an older man (Paul was all of 24 but that's ancient to a
17 year old), Anne showed absolutely no sexual interest in
Paul. However, he did learn that she had no serious
boyfriends. He also learned one evening that she had very
strict parents, when he overheard her tell a friend that she
was grounded for 2 weeks for swearing.
After a month Paul was desperate. He had to have Anne but it
was also clear that she would never find him interesting. He
wasn't ugly or uncouth. He was just too old to be someone
she would become interested in. So, in desperation, Paul
hatched a plan. A plan that would hopefully gain him Anne's
body, although not her love.
In the early afternoon the video store business is
exceedingly slow. Housewives are home waiting for their
husbands and the working men and women are finishing up at
work. Many days you won't see a single customer between 2:30
and 3:30, at least at this store.
So on Tuesday, Paul left work early. And with a clean color
print of the picture of Anne laying back naked, spreading
her pussy, went to the video store. As he had hoped, Anne
was the only person in the store. He walked up to her,
smiled, and asked her to look at the picture.
Anne took one look, gasped, and looked at him horror
stricken. "Where did you get this" she asked. "That's not
important" he replied. "The important thing is to insure
that your father never sees this."
Anne felt a cold knot of fear grab her stomach - so bad that
she half fell to the floor. If her father saw this her life
would be over. This was so far beyond the things she had
been punished harshly for there is no telling what he would
do. She had to insure that her father never saw it.
Paul was getting scared looking at Anne. It almost looked
like she might have to go to the hospital. To reassure her
he said "don't worry Anne, you're father will never see
this." She looked up at Paul with such a look of relief and
thankfulness that he almost backed off from what he was
going to do. Almost.
"Anne, I want you to go out with me this Friday" Paul said.
This was the crucial moment - would Anne be willing to date
him to keep the picture hidden from her father. Anne looked
up at Paul stunned. She suddenly realized that he was
offering her a trade, a date for silence. "Isn't there some
other way" Anne asked Paul, pleading with tears in her eyes.
God, am I that awful though Paul - well fuck her in that
case. "Sure Anne, I'll just mail a copy of the picture to
your Dad and another to the school principal." At that Anne
did start crying sobbing "oh god no, please no, please
please no."
"So I take it we have a date?"
Anne just mutely nodded her head up and down.
"Where should I pick you up?"
Oh no, it couldn't be her house - her Dad would forbid her
going out with a 24 year old man. And she couldn't let her
friends see. "How about the Rose Tavern next to the mall"
Anne asked.
"I'll see you there Friday night at 7:00."
With that Paul turned around and walked out. He was
ecstatic, he had his first date with Anne. And Friday was
only three days away. Needless to say, the next three nights
were filled with visions of Anne fucking and sucking him in
every way imaginable.

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 17 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
skin tight 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 cuming 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.

Chapter 3 - Saturday afternoon

Anne spent the entire morning sitting in her room, looking
out the window at the mailbox. When the postman pulled up,
she ran for the mailbox, ignoring the call from her mother.
She grabbed the mail and there it was, a large envelope to
her father from Paul. She folded it and stuffed it into her
pants and took the rest of the mail in.
She took the rest of the mail in to her mother, and after
some small talk, went up to her room and opened the letter.
Inside was a picture as well as a letter from Paul
explaining that the pictures had been Anne's idea, that she
had forced the other girls to pose too, and afterward she
had fucked half the football team.
Oh god, if her father had opened this. She would rather die
than let that happen. Paul was treating her like dirt, but
he hadn't even tried to fuck her. In fact, he hadn't even
felt up her tits. It was an easy choice.
So at 2:00 she drove off to meet Paul. She stopped in a
deserted parking lot and changed from the clothes she had
left the house in to the outfit Paul had left with her. The
skirt seemed to have a hundred short petticoats that caused
the top to flounce out at almost 90 degrees. Yet it was so
short that again, you could see her stocking tops.
This time the stockings, panties, and skirt were all white.
And the top was a lace ribbon that wrapped around her tits,
leaving a little view of both the top and bottom of each
breast. And finally there were little white socks and 5"
stiletto heels to complete the combination.
Anne looked in the mirror and saw a stranger, half whore,
half virgin, looking back at her. She couldn't go through
with this - she wasn't a slut. But then she saw the envelope
and realized she had no choice. Beaten down by Paul before
she had even arrived at his house, she pulled out of the
parking lot and headed toward his house.
At 2:30 the bell rang at Paul's house. He opened the door
and there was Anne, looking at the floor, scared of what he
was going to do. Anne walked in and just stood in the center
of the floor. Paul smiled, this was going to be easy he
thought.
"Well Anne, I asked you here because I want to take some
pictures of you. That one just isn't enough for me. But this
will be a little unusual for a slut like you, I want to take
pictures of you with your clothes on."
At the mention of keeping her clothes on, a wave of relief
swept over her. She actually felt thankful toward Paul for
letting her stayed dressed. And he had called her a slut but
she had posed naked for the picture at that party.
So for the next half hour Paul took photos of Anne in her
different outfits. And each outfit and pose was more and
more suggestive. Until finally Anne was posing in the see-
through dress so you could see her tits and cunt through the
fabric. And then, when changing out of the transparent
dress, Paul reached out to Anne and had her stop, dressed in
just stockings, panties, and half bra.
"I want some pictures of you like this" he told her. Anne
just nodded, it didn't seem much different to her and she
was now used to being told how to pose and what to wear. So
she posed, first standing, then leaning back, and finally,
as in the original picture, laying down and spreading her
pussy.
Paul then had her pose in her different sets of underwear,
each time placing her in more and more lewd positions. And
all the time complimenting her on how she looked so
beautiful, the most beautiful slut she had ever seen.
Telling her how gorgeous her cunt and tits were.
And Anne listened to it all getting even more confused. Paul
was complimenting her and saying everything nicely. And he
obviously though she was beautiful. But he found her
beautiful because she looked like a slut. Anne couldn't
separate the two. She wanted to be beautiful and appreciated
and if looking like a slut was how men appreciated her, then
she would do it. So she continued to pose, enjoying Paul's'
comments about her beauty and trying to ignore the ones
about her sluttishness.
After the last set of pictures Paul sat down next to Anne
with a vibrator in his hand. Anne had never seen one before
although she had an idea of what it was used for. She
suddenly panicked. "Please don't put that in me, I'm a
virgin. Please Please don't" she sobbed. "I'm saving myself
for when I get married.."
Paul quickly reassured her that nothing was going in her
pussy. "I know what you want" he told her. "You're a slut
and slut's want to cum. This will help you cum. I'll show
you how."
Paul then proceeded to turn on the vibrator and use it on
Anne's clit. Anne had touched herself a couple of times
before but it had always been very fast, with major feelings
of guilt. Now her clit was feeling things it had never felt
before. And all the time Paul was whispering that this was
all good. That she should feel this way.
Anne's first climax hit her before she understood what was
happening. And a second rapidly followed the first. Paul
kept working her clit with the vibrator as climax after
climax cascaded through Anne's body. She had never felt
anything like this before. All other thoughts were lost as
Anne luxuriated in the afterglow of the most awesome orgasm
she had ever felt. Nothing else mattered.
After about 5 minutes Paul figured she could pop again, so
he started in on her clit again with the vibrator. Anne
immediately started panting, staring at Paul as though he
was a god. The fact that she could have another orgasm was
beyond belief. All the repressed emotions in a young 17 year
old girl who had never really had an orgasm before bubbled
to the surface.
Paul moved Anne's hand to the vibrator and had her use it on
herself. He then got up and grabbed the camera and started
taking pictures. Anne was totally oblivious to the pictures,
totally focused on bringing herself to another orgasm. Anne
again hit a string of orgasms and Paul captured her in the
throes on film.
After another 15 minutes, Paul decided to bring her off one
last time. He had Anne use the vibrator and after she was
real worked up, he grabbed the smallest butt plug the local
sex shop had, and already greased up, started pushing it up
Anne's ass.
Anne jumped when she first felt the plug. Its ok Paul
assured her, its just a small plug to make you feel good
down there. "Trust me" he said.  Anne realized it did feel
sort-of good pressing lightly against her ass, and she
didn't want to stop the vibrator. So she continued and Paul,
ever so gently, pushed the plug in and out, just a little.
As Anne neared orgasm, Paul pushed the plug in and out
further and further until, as Anne peaked, he pushed the
plug all the way in. Once again Anne hit a string of cums,
made even more intense from the plug in her ass.
As Anne laid there, all worn out, Paul got the most
tremendous hard-on of his life. At 17, Anne's young body was
still firm and fresh. And there is virtually nothing more
erotic than the view of a woman, totally worn out from
cumming repeatedly, lying back totally open.
"You know" Paul said, "I helped you cum. And now I need help
to take care of my problem."
Anne looked up at him fearfully. Oh god no she thought.
Please I can't do this. I won't have sex with him, not even
if he shows the picture to my father. I just can't do it.
Paul saw the abject fear in Anne's eyes which turned him on
even more. God he would love to just jump on her and rape
the shit out of her. But if he did that she would probably
run and never return, pictures or no pictures.
"Relax slut, I'm not going to fuck you." Relief poured
through Anne's body. "I just want you to jack me off." "To a
little slut like you a hand job should be nothing."
Anne tentatively reached up for Paul's crotch and started
rubbing his cock through his pants.
"Not like that, pull it out." "Don't you want to feel my
cock in your hand."
Anne pulled her hand back and Paul, desperate to cum, opened
his pants and pulled his cock out. He then grabbed Anne's
hand and wrapped her hand around his cock. "Start jerking
it."
Anne started moving her hand up and down his cock, looking
as though she was scared it might bite her. This was
actually her first view of a cock and it scared her.
Paul stroked Anne's hair while talking to her. "You are such
a pretty little slut. Do you like jacking my cock? I'm going
to squirt my cum all over your face. Bet a little slut like
you would like that. Playing with your clit and covered with
cum - that must be your fondest dream."
Anne looked up at Paul shaking her head no, with a pleading
look on her face, whispering "no, no, no I'm not. Please god
no."
"What's the matter slut, my cock isn't good enough for you?"
Paul angrily jerked Anne over his lap, face down, ripe for
spanking. Before Anne realized what was happening Paul was
spanking her butt as hard as he could with one hand while
holding her down with the other.
"Oh god no, please don't, please stop" Anne wailed.
"Fuck you slut. I made you cum god knows how many times and
now you say you're too good to jack me off. Your nothing but
a little piece of slut-meat." Paul continued to nail her
butt. Anne's smooth stomach on Paul's legs and cock felt
absolutely delicious. And her ass was so smooth and firm it
just begged for more swats.
Anne finally gave up fighting and just sobbed in pain and
humiliation as Paul whipped her. It hurt, it hurt so bad.
And the thought of being paddled naked, with Paul's prick
poking insistently into her stomach, mad her feel like a
complete slut. This did not happen to nice girls. Nice girls
did not play with themselves, especially in front of men.
Paul was right, she was a slut.
Finally Paul could stand it no longer, he was about to
burst. He pulled Anne off of him and dumped her on the
floor. "Jack me off now bitch" he screamed.
Anne jumped to comply jacking his cock. Almost immediately
it started to shoot, the first 2 shots landing on Anne's
surprised face, before she pointed Paul's cock away.
"On your face slut" Paul yelled, turning his cock back
toward Anne's face, covering it with jism. God she looked
beautiful there, totally humiliated at his feet, with her
face covered with his cum. "Rub it in" he said.
Anne didn't understand. She looked up at Paul wanting to
know what he meant.
Paul grabbed Anne's hands and pulled them up to her cheeks.
"Rub the cum into your skin. All sluts rub the cum in cause
they like it so much."
Anne just looked at him - she couldn't do that. The stuff
was yucky, she needed to wash it off.
"Do it now" he screamed standing up and towering over her,
looking like he was about to hit her.
Anne started rubbing the cum into her face. By the time she
was done there was an even coating all over from her
forehead to her chin. Anne felt like a complete slut now,
totally covered with cum.
"Now lick your hands clean."
Anne shuddered in disgust and then brought her hands up to
her mouth and licked the cum off of them. She was a slut and
sluts licked cum off of their hands. She started to cry as
she realized what she looked like now, covered with cum,
naked, kneeling in front of Paul, licking the cum off of her
hands.
Paul stood Anne up and dressed her in the clothes she had
worn from home, leaving the butt plug in. He then handed her
the vibrator. "Every night and every morning I want you to
use this" he told her. Anne looked at Paul and nodded. She
was a slut and sluts used vibrators. Besides, it felt so
good.
"And another thing, that butt plug stays in you except when
you shit. I'll be checking and if its out you will get one
hell of a spanking." Again Anne nodded. She had actually
forgotten it was there although with his reminder, now she
was acutely aware of it.
"I'd kiss you good-bye but you would taste of cum you little
slut." And with that Paul pushed Anne out the door of his
house.
Anne suddenly realized that she was standing out in public,
holding a vibrator. If someone saw her they might get the
wrong idea. Then she suddenly realized, no it would be the
right idea. She was such a slut Paul wouldn't even kiss her
good-bye. She cried so much on the way home she could barely
see the road.

Chapter 4 - the next 3 weeks

Anne's father would only let her go out one night each
weekend. And Sunday day was for church. So for the next
several weeks Anne and Paul fell into a routine.
Each morning and each night Anne would use her vibrator to
cum. She said to herself that it was only because Paul made
her. But she knew better. Paul would never know if she
didn't do it. The truth was that it felt good and she liked
it. So she did it. But because her parents had told her sex
was bad, and because Paul was "making her" masturbate,
Anne's mind then decided she was a slut when she
masturbated.
And every day Anne wore the butt plug. Well, every day
except that first Monday when she had "forgotten" it. And
Paul showed up at the video store that Monday. Before Anne
could say anything he turned her around and felt her
asshole. When he felt no butt plug he locked the store
doors, dragged her to the back office, pulled down her
pants, and used his belt to whip her ass.
Anne begged for forgiveness the entire time while Paul never
said a word. Finally, when all of Anne's ass was bright red,
Paul let her go and she tumbled to the floor. "We can do
another hundred or we can have just 6 more, which will it
be" he asked her.
Anne looked up at him in bewilderment. "No more, please no
more" she managed to plead between sobs.
"6 or 100, pick or I'll choose for you - pick now." he
shouted.
"6, oh god just 6 more please" she begged.
"Fine, then stand up and put your hands against the wall.
Push your butt out and ask me to whip you. For 100 I'll hold
you down. For 6 you have to hold yourself in place and beg
for each one."
Oh god Anne thought, I can't do this. But she started
getting up because no matter what she had to do, she just
couldn't survive another 100 hits from the belt. She leaned
against the wall with her hands supporting her.
Paul adjusted her until she had "assumed the position."
Hands up high on the wall, legs out and apart, butt arched
out to meet the whip. "Oh and one more thing. If your hands
come down, or your butt isn't sticking out for any one hit,
we start over."
Anne closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. Somehow she had
to get through this. No matter how much it hurt, 6 was a lot
less than 100. So motherfucking much less that she would
freeze in place no matter what. She would hold on no mat---
Anne suddenly realized that Paul was talking to her. She had
been concentrating so hard that she had blocked him out.
The pain was so bad, god her butt was on fire. It had to be
bleeding, it just had to. In fact, it felt like there was a
fire down there, but that couldn't be. But the pain was just
so bad. Wait, what was Paul saying. Oh yes, she had to beg
to be whipped. How could she beg for something that hurt so
much. She was standing here, wasn't that enough.
Suddenly Paul reached out to her to pull her over his lap to
give her 100 strokes. No, not that, please not that. "Please
whip my ass, please do it, oh god please don't whip me 100
times, please whip my ass." She said frantically. She was
begging him to whip her. The real source of the begging was
to avoid the 100 strokes but the words coming out of her
mouth were begging Paul to whip her ass. Her ass that was
already on fire.
The first one hit and Anne screamed. She couldn't take this
anymore. Yet she kept babbling, "please whip my ass, please
whip it, oh god please." A part of her stepped outside her
body and observed. There she was, arched out against the
wall to meet the belt, begging for a whipping. What kind of
slut was she. There were girls at school that put out for
all of the guys, but even they would turn their noses up
seeing her like this. Slut was too good for her, she was
complete scum.
And the picture she made in her mind, combined with the pain
from the belt, cause her body to heave with sobs as she
cried her heart out. Finally the last stroke ended and Paul
picked her up and held her. For the next half hour her sobs
slowly subsided, while, the entire time, Paul just held her

and told her how much he loved her.
And she grasped on to that love to pull her back up from the
pit her mind had sunk into. The mind and body can only take
so much and Anne's had been overloaded with pain and
degradation. She needed a rope to pull her out and Paul's
love and caring was that rope.
She started to hold on to him, and then to hold him so
tightly that it hurt. She held on to Paul for dear life and
sobbed her heart out. She was lower than a slut, and her ass
was on fire. But it was ok because Paul loved her and would
take care of her. Her mind pushed away the fact that Paul
caused all of this because she needed a rescuer.
And Paul, he got to spend a half hour holding a naked Anne
while she came to hold him tighter and tighter. Such a
lovely young body and it was all his, to use any way he
wanted, as long as he was careful.
Anne made it through the rest of work that day by being very
careful to not let her ass touch anything. And she was very
careful from then on to have the butt plug in her ass every
day.
On either Friday or Saturday night Paul would take Anne
dancing. Each time she would wear slutty, revealing clothes
and during the slow numbers Paul would whisper in her ear
what a slut she was and how much everyone wanted to fuck
her.
When they sat down Paul would always make her sit with her
legs spread so that anyone looking under the table could see
her pubic hair. As the night went on he would make her
spread her legs wider and wider till, toward the end of the
evening, her legs would be fully spread and anyone who
looked knew she was flashing them on purpose. And much to
Anne's dismay, many looked.
Each Saturday afternoon Anne would pose for Paul's camera.
She would model the clothes and use the vibrator and butt
plug. The second Saturday Paul brought out a video camera.
At first Anne refused but when Paul showed Anne the new
collection of pictures for her father, she relented.
Paul had Anne face the camera while using the vibrator and
tell the camera what a slut she was. How she liked playing
with her clit and loved to get off. And then he filmed her
bringing herself to orgasm time after time.
And at the end of each session, Anne would jack Paul off
onto her face and rub the cum into her face. So Anne always
left knowing that she was a complete and total slut. This
was her life and the human mind can adapt to a lot, so Anne
came over the next few weeks to accept this as her natural
life.

Chapter 5 - a Haircut

About a month later Anne arrived at Paul's house for their
regular Saturday afternoon session, which would be followed
by the evening out. By this time Anne was actually looking
forward to the sessions. Paul would drag her through the
dirt verbally but in the course of that trip, she would cum
ever harder than when she took care of things in her own bed
at home.
So she walked in and started to remove her leather skirt.
But Paul stopped her. "We're going out" he informed her.
"But why" Anne whined. She was looking forward to the
session and didn't want to give it up.
"Because your pussy is too hairy. I want to get the hair
removed.. Sluts don't have hair on their pussy - its bald so
that everyone can see their hot cunt."
"Go out, I don't understand. And I can't shave my pussy,
girls just don't do that."
Paul sighed. "Do we have to go through this again? I can
show you the video tape I've made for your father, pull you
across my lap, and spank your ass till its hotter than the
sun. And then you'll go. You know it. I know it. Besides,
your a slut. We both know it. And sluts aren't supposed to
have hair on their pussy."
Anne acted as though each sentence from Paul was him hitting
her. Yes she would do it. Yes she was a slut. She didn't
have any choice. Anne dropped her head as she realized her
total lack of control over her body. "ok" she whispered and
turned to go.
"Just a minute. Just because you realize you have no choice
now doesn't excuse your telling me no before. You have to be
punished don't you."
Anne looked up at Paul and nodded very slightly yes.
"Don't you" Paul said with a large threat in his voice.
"Yes" Anne said, fearful of Paul.
"Pull your skirt up and assume the position. Oh, and don't
cry because we are going out immediately after the spanking
and I'm not giving you time to fix your makeup."
Anne leaned against the wall and arched her back.
"Beg for it."
"Oh please Paul, whip my ass. I'm sorry I said no, please
forgive me, please do--- AAAGGGH, OH GOD IT HURTS SO MUCH,
NOT ANO--- OOOOWWWWWHHH, DEAR GOD DEAR GOD I'M SORRY I'M SO
SORRY, PLEASE FORGIVE ME. I'm sorry I'm sorry please forgive
me, oh please I'm sorry."
"Tell me you love me and beg for another. Do it NOW."
"Oh Paul, I'm sorry, I love you please don't, oh please
don't, I love you, I love you, I love you, I'm sorry, pleas-
AAAGGGHHH, OH GOD IT HURTS SO MUCH, OH GOD PLEASE DON'T,
PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I BEG YOU, I LOVE YOU PAUL."
"You said please don't so that one doesn't count" he told
her grinning. This was the first time she had said she loved
him, and it was while he was whipping her. Definitely a
strong foundation for their future. "Beg for it or it'll go
a lot worse for you, and tell me how much you love me -
slut."
"Oh Paul I love you, I do love you. I know I'm just a slut
but I love you. Please spank me, please please span---
AAAAAGGGGGHHHH OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD, IT HURTS, IT HURTS SO
BAD, ITHU---"
"Tell me that you love me slut."
"OH GOD I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU PAUL. IT HURTS SO MUCH I LOVE
YOU. I love you I love you it hurts oh god it hurts."
"Beg slut."
"Please whip my ass, please whip it. Whip your slut's ass, I
love you so much and I want you to whip my ass, plea---
AAAGGGHH OH GOD I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU. PLEASE
PLEASE OH GOD please don't - don't, oh god I love you."
And with that Anne turned and threw herself on Paul holding
on to him and with sobs wracking her body kept repeating "I
love you, I love you." Paul held her until the sobs receded.
Then kissed her on the lips pulled her skirt down, and
pulled her out the door to her car.
After driving a bit Paul pulled over and showed Anne 6
packages. They were all the same size and addressed to her
father at his work address, her school's principal, the
local newspaper, and the 3 local TV stations. He then
explained what was in the packages, a collection of the best
photos he had taken as well as 2 hours of the best scenes he
had shot on video tape.
Anne was scared. This was much worse than the original
photo. This would show the world that she was a full-fledged
slut. And with the information going to the principal and
news media, the word would get out all over town. She
wouldn't be able to live if this happened. Oh god, what was
Paul going to do to her.
Paul then laid it out. "We're going to a beauty salon to
have your pubic hair removed. They will do what you tell
them to do. If at any time you tell them to stop, they will
stop and there is nothing I can do to make them continue.
You get to decide what happens.."
"However, if at any time you tell them no, or don't answer
any question the way I tell you to, I will leave immediately
and mail these packages. There is no second chance. If the
women in this store think anything funny is going on they
will probably refuse to continue and may even call the cops.
So you can't disagree with me and then immediately change
your mind to make it right - one screw-up and you become the
front page story for this town."
With that Paul grabbed Anne by the chin and held her face
about 2 inches from his. "Do you understand my little slut -
one fuck-up and the whole town gets to see what a slut you
are. Do you understand me my little whore?"
Anne, totally afraid now, both about the packages and afraid
of Paul nodded her head up and down and said "yes." She
didn't know which was worse, an angry Paul or the packages
mailed out. But she didn't want either to happen.
"Another thing, this will hurt. Not anyway near as much as
when I spank you but it will hurt. You can cry and ask me to
hold you. But you must endure it until they are done. You
got that?"
Anne just nodded. Whatever he wanted, she was not going to
cross him right now. Not with those packages waiting to be
mailed.
"Finally, we need to remove your butt plug. The people
working at this salon might not want to touch you if they
realize what a slut you are. And only a real cunt walks into
a salon and shows the world her butt plug.
Anne blushed and realized that she would have done just
that. The butt plug had become so much a part of her life
that she had forgotten it. God what a slut she was if she
would show people that. She really was becoming quite a
slut. Oh god help her.
Paul then pulled back into traffic and drove the rest of the
way to the salon. They went in and Paul informed the
receptionist that they had an appointment. They were shown
to a private back room where the girl showed Anne a chair to
sit in. Anne removed her underwear and skirt as instructed
and laid back in the chair, spreading her legs.
The stylist walked in and started getting the electrolysis
equipment ready. You understand that this will hurt she told
Anne.
Anne nodded and said "yes, I do."
"Now, what exactly do you want taken off?"
Anne looked at Paul with a question on her face.
"All of it, isn't it dear?" Paul said to Anne.
"Yes, all of it" Anne said to the stylist.
The stylist looked at Anne a little strange but started to
work. It hurt Anne every time the needle went in and every
time it zapped. She held on to Paul's arm and gritted her
teeth. But as time went on (it takes a long time to remove
an entire bush) the pain moved into a dull constant in the
background.
Anne started to think about how she looked. Lying there with
her legs spread letting another woman work on her cunt. And
when she was done, she would have no pussy hair - ever. Boy,
she would really look like a slut then. In a way she
couldn't hide. Anyone who saw her naked would knew, she was
a slut.
The funny thing, thinking of how this was marking her as a
slut, combined with the constant pin pricks, was actually
arousing her. Not a mind-blowing orgasm kind of arousal but
it was putting her mind on sex. And on sex that degraded her
as a slut. And that was getting her worked up.
And then she suddenly realized, the stylist working between
her legs would see the juices leak out of her cunt. Hell,
she would smell it. And then she would realize that Anne was
getting turned on by this. The thought was too awful to
bear. But Anne found herself getting even more turned on by
the thought of this woman knowing what a complete slut she
was.
About this time the stylist was moving up to remove the
hairs around Anne's clit. This got Anne worked up even more.
Paul noticed first because of Anne's clutching of his hand.
My god he thought, the whore's getting off on this.
The stylist noticed next. This little tramp is actually
enjoying this. I just hope she doesn't cum on my hand, oh
yech.
But Anne was getting closer and closer, and suddenly, a zap
of a hair at the base of her clit put her over the edge.
Anne tried to hide it but couldn't. The stylist stopped and
both Paul and the stylist stopped and watched Anne orgasm.
Anne then sank back in her chair totally mortified. "Sorry
about that" Paul said. "I'm afraid she is a bit of a tramp.
I'm really really sorry about this."
"I can't work on a woman like this" the stylist said,
standing up and looking disgustedly at Anne.
"Please reconsider. She's almost done and if we have to go
elsewhere then another stylist has to put up with the same
reactions. She's done now so you should be able to complete
the job before she gets out of control again."
Anne tried to sink deeper into the chair. Oh god, how could
she have had an orgasm right in front of this stranger. What
kind of woman was she. She really was a slut. She just
wanted to crawl in a hole and die. Yet her she was, lying
back with her legs spread for this stranger.
"We don't want to leave here with the job incomplete, do we"
Paul said to Anne.
Anne suddenly realized what Paul meant. They couldn't leave
yet or he would mail the packages. Oh my god no. "Please
finish it" she begged the stylist. "I'm really really sorry.
I won't do it again. Please forgive me." God she wanted to
die, pleading with the woman to continue removing her hair,
apologizing for cuming on her ministrations.
"Ok, I'll finish up the job, but no more enjoying it you
little whore" the stylist said, contempt dripping from her
voice. "I'm not gay and I'm not getting paid to get you off.
So hold still and try to behave as a lady would - although
god knows no lady ever had all of her pubic hair removed."
Anne felt like dirt. This woman was right. She was not a
lady anymore, not by any stretch of the imagination. She was
a whore, getting off on the hands of another woman. Oh god,
how had she become so sick.
The stylist was in a hurry now, jabbing faster and deeper to
get the job done quicker. But it caused Anne's excitement to
build up again. Anne grabbed Paul's arm and looked up at him
with pleading eyes. Help me she thought, help me not enjoy
this.
Paul looked down and realized that she was getting off
again. The combination of the fear and the stylists utter
contempt were building her up even faster. He actually
needed to do something if they were going to complete this
job. Paul slapped Anne firmly.
The shock, both of the slap itself, and being slapped in
front of this woman who considered Anne a dirty slut broke
the building orgasm. Thank you Paul, thank you thank you
thank you she thought, looking up at him.
The stylist looked back at Anne's pussy, but hesitated.
"I'll pay you a $500.00 tip if you finish the job" Paul
said. "And I'll do my best to get her to behave. Please
finish this, I know she's a slut but I love her and she
wants this."
Anne couldn't believe her ears, Paul was blaming it all on
her. Of course, it was her fault that she was cumming. And
if she was a slut, then she did have to get her pussy hair
removed she guessed. Maybe it was all her fault. No it
couldn't be. It was all Paul's fault.
But she glanced down at the stylist and saw the utter
contempt in her eyes for her. The stylist knew she was a
worthless tramp. The stylist thought Paul was a nice guy.
Maybe the stylist was right. After all, the stylist was
grossed out by Anne's cuming and wasn't that the reaction a
normal person would have.
But here she was, getting all excited again. In fact, she
wanted to cum. She didn't care if the stylist saw her cum.
In fact, she wanted to be seen. She wanted the stylist to
look at her with utter contempt, convinced she was a
complete slut. Just the thought of the other woman's
reaction had Anne building up.
Paul saw what was happening. She was getting off again. He
slapped her face. But this time Anne expected it and it just
furthered her debasement. He slapped her again and again.
Anne kept looking up at him with a the blank look of someone
building towards an intense cum. Each slap seemed to build
the cum.
Anne couldn't stand it any longer. The slaps, the jabbing of
the needle, the thought of how she looked, only a pig could
get off on this. The thought of enjoying this was so
sickening to her that it got her even more excited. She
tried to hold it in, to cum because of this meant that she
was turned on by being treated as a complete slut. She
couldn't cum from that - it would mean she was nothing.
Anne held it in as long as she could, but finally, the dam
burst. She started grunting and moved her hand down to rub
her clit. The stylist and Paul jumped back. While Paul was
secretly loving it, the stylist was totally disgusted with
what she saw. The little whore had cum again. What a piece
of trash.
"That's it" the stylist said. "The dirty little slut keeps
getting off on my hand. This isn't worth $500.00. No way."
"Wait" said Paul. "I'll let you punish her for being such a
whore."
"Punish her?"
"Yes, when you're done, you can spank her for being such a
bad girl. Don't you want to make her pay for getting off on
you?"
The woman paused at that. It would be nice to teach this
little whore the error of her ways. And she would like to
punish her for using her as a vibrator. "Yes, I'll do it."
Anne was watching this all with disbelief. Paul was going to
let this woman spank her. Paul expected her to let this
woman spank her. Anne was starting to realize how low she
had sunk. A good girl would not be here, would not have her
legs spread, and would not let anyone spank her. She was a
good girl, she knew it deep down inside. The real Anne
started to bubble to the surface.
The stylist looked at Anne and told her, "lie back you
little whore. And I've had enough of you getting off on my
hand. You may want to fuck every man woman and child you
meet but I don't. Try this once more and you'll find
yourself getting the spanking you deserve immediately little
girl."
How dare she talk to Anne like that. "I'm not a whore" Anne
protested. Don't call me a whore and sto---
"Not a whore" the stylist laughed. "How many times have you
gotten off on my hand jabbing you with this needle. Most
women come in here and say it hurts to have their hair
removed. You cum from a stranger doing it to you. You're a
dirty little whore."
Each word was like a blow to Anne. Yes it was all true. The
real Anne buried itself back in her subconscious somewhere
and Anne the slut reasserted itself. Anne looked up at Paul
with tears in her eyes. She was a slut wasn't she. Oh god,
she was so low. At least Paul wanted her. "Paul, I love you"
she said, desperate to know someone wanted a slut like her.
Paul leaned over, brushed away her tears, and said "I love
you too little Anne." Don't you worry, I'll take care of
you.
The rest of the removal passed fine. The stylist worked,
Anne quietly cried, and Paul stroked her hair. And Anne kept
thinking, I'm a slut but Paul still loves me.
Finally, it was completed and the stylist handed Anne a
mirror to inspect the work. Anne looked down and realized
that it was as bald as the day she was born. And it would
stay that way for the rest of her life. She was marked as a
slut forevermore.
The stylist then pulled Anne, still naked from the waist
down, over to a chair, sat in the chair, and pulled Anne
over her lap. "A bad girl like you needs to be punished
don't you."
"Yes" Anne whispered.
And the stylist then proceeded to use a hair brush to paddle
both of Anne's ass cheeks bright red. The whole time she
kept up a monologue - "you're a dirty little slut. You
probably want to show that bald pussy to all the boys at
school don't you. I bet you can't wait to have everyone's
cock sliding into that little pussy. I bet you get yourself
off whenever you can don't you. Do you play with yourself
every night and morning?" All the time raining down the
blows.
Anne quietly sobbed realizing that she deserved this
punishment. Yes it was true, she was a slut. When she heard
the question about playing with herself every morning and
night she sobbed out "Yes, yes I play with my pussy whenever
I can, I'm a slut, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
And at that the stylist pushed Anne off of her lap. "You
little whore, you were probably getting off on my spanking
you. You need to be punished, not rewarded for being such a
whore. Get away from me. I'm going to go wash my hands to
remove your smell from me you dirty slut."
Anne sat on the floor feeling totally worthless. Paul leaned
down in front of her and told her to play with herself. Anne
looked at him in shock - how could he say such a thing after
what had just happened. The stylist had told her that she
was a dirty slut. She didn't want to be a slut. Anne started
to pull herself together.
Paul reached down, took one of Anne's hands, and used it to
rub her clit. Anne resisted for about half a minute, but
then it started to work. After another minute with Paul's
assistance, Anne took over on her own, rubbing her clit.
Paul stayed kneeling down facing her and telling her what a
slut she was to be getting off just after the stylist had
spanked her for being such a slut. Even a slut had some self
respect. Anne was just a mindless nympho, rubbing her clit
trying to get off, not caring what anyone thought of her.
No that wasn't true, the utter contempt of the stylist
helped her get off. Paul's whispers that she was a total
slut was getting her off. the fact that someone with the
slightest shred of self-respect would at least go somewhere
more private first built her up.
Anne played with her clit wallowing in her debasement. Her
whole world was her clit. She rubbed it furiously listening
to Paul. She was a complete slut. A complete slut could get
off anywhere because nothing else mattered.
Over the past few weeks Anne's young body had received a
crash course in how to satisfy the sexual urges her hormones
had awakened in her. But there had been no course in love or
respect or willpower. She had been taught how to satisfy her
strongest urges immediately and fully. And like a powerful
drug, it would be difficult, if not impossible, to break her
of the habit.
And it was the feeling of utter worthlessness that allowed
Anne to give up the civilized restraints each of us normally
uses to moderate our more primal impulses. The more slutty
and worthless Anne felt, the more she felt free to satisfy
her sexual urges.
And more than that, there was something in Anne's makeup,
probably from years of being raised as a child who should
always obey, that reveled in having her nose rubbed in the
dirt. The more degraded she felt, the more she got off.
So Anne crouched there, dripping pussy juice onto the floor,
rubbing her clit and cascading from orgasm to orgasm.
Rubbing her forever bald slit, and staring at Paul who was
watching her get herself off.
Until finally she collapsed in the puddle of her pussy
juices, not even realizing it she was so wiped out. Staring
blankly into space as Paul lifted her up and put her skirt
back on her. They then walked out, past the stares and
whispers of the stylists to Paul's car, and drove off.

Chapter 6 - that evening

Paul let Anne sleep the rest of the afternoon. The session
at the hair salon had wiped her out. While Anne slept
soundly, Paul would keep moving a vibrator on her clit. He
was pretty sure that her dreams were interesting.
Anne woke up from a long series of erotic dreams. She didn't
remember much of the details but it felt like she had been
cuming non-stop for the last several hours. She got up and
went looking for Paul, not bothering to get dressed first.
Paul had a vision of loveliness walk in on him. Anne's 17
year old body was almost perfect. Still thin and firm all
over that no one seems to retain past the age of 19 or 20.
Add to this how beautiful a completely bald pussy is. Not a
pussy that was recently shaved or with a slight stubble, a
pussy with absolutely no hair on it.
And there she was, standing there and looking at Paul. Not
covering anything up or acting at all shy. Anne was his.
Paul got up, walked over to Anne, and hugger her gorgeous
naked body to his, loving the feel of her naked body.
"I love you" he said and gave her a gentle kiss on the lips.
"I love you" she replied hugging and kissing him back.
"Lets get dressed for tonight" he told her. He handed Anne a
waist cincher that was flesh colored. One of the few
negatives about Anne's body was that, not having filled out
like an adult, her body wasn't as curvy as he would like.
While he couldn't, and didn't want to do anything to make
her hips bigger, he could make her waist smaller.
He put the cincher around her waist and started pulling in
the laces. Each time he had Anne exhale he would pull the
laces a little tighter. Finally he had it as tight as
possible. Anne had to take shallow breaths and couldn't bend
over. But her waist had been reduced by 6 inches giving her
a phenomenal hourglass figure.
The cincher was designed to blend in with her skin by
snapping flaps over the laces. Paul then handed Anne her
dress. It was a gauzy material that was almost the exact
same color as Anne's skin. Anne pulled it on and suddenly
realized you could see right through the dress.
Anne's ass and pussy were not terribly obvious, although if
you knew to look, you could see both. But her tits, because
of the different color of the nipples, were strikingly
obvious. Paul loved it, there she was in all of her glory,
clothed yet still naked.
The dress was skintight. Even at her waist which had been
pulled in 6 inches. The effect was electrifying since each
breast had its own little pocket of fabric it pushed out
from her chest, with the fabric following every curve of her
breast. And her incredibly thin waist was so obvious with
the dress in tight around her waist. And finally, with the
fabric tight over her ass and across her mound, it was
relatively easy to discern her ass and cunt if you looked.
To top it off, he handed her black mesh stockings that held
themselves up and 6" black stiletto heels. The black
stockings would show under the dress, making it more obvious
that she had no other underclothes on.
Anne freaked. She couldn't go out in public like this. She
might as well go naked. It was worse than naked. She turned
to Paul with a pleading look on her face. "Please Paul,
please don't make me do this."
Paul smiled. She wasn't saying no anymore, she was asking
him to not do it. He owned her now. Paul handed her black
lace gloves, to match the stockings, had her put them on,
and turned to go out of the house.
Anne looked at Paul in despair. She couldn't do this. This
was showing everyone what a slut she had become. But Paul
was standing there and if she didn't go, he would make her.
He would spank her and send pictures to her father. And he
might stop loving her.
A shudder ripped through Anne's body and she started to put
on the gloves. As she was putting them on she discovered
that all the fingers had been sewn together as well as the
tip of the thumb to the tip of the fingers. She could give
Paul a hand job wearing the gloves, but not much else. In
fact, Paul had to help her finish putting the gloves on, and
once on, she would need his assistance to remove them.
Paul then turned to go to his car and Anne followed. She was
his slut. She hated it but she was his slut. Across the
street one of Paul's neighbors was getting out of his car.
The man stopped and stared at Anne. Anne wanted to melt into
the sidewalk. Instead Paul took Anne over to meet him.
"Hi Fred, this is Anne."
Fred just stared at Anne's nipples.
"Do you like her body" Paul asked. "You can see her pussy
too if you look closely. She's such a slut she had all the
hair removed. Shake hands with Fred slut, there's no reason
to be impolite."
Anne wanted to sink even further into the ground. She
couldn't shake hands with the gloves on. And Fred was now
staring at her pussy. And she was standing here letting him
look at her body. Paul moved her arm up and Fred
automatically put his hand out to shake. He seemed
disconcerted at her hands shaped in an O but then went back
to looking at her pussy.
"Well, we have to go now. See you later." Paul and Anne
walked off with Fred now staring at Anne's ass the whole
way.
Anne was in a state of shock. She was used to boys looking
at her with a sexual interest. But nothing with the
intensity of Fred's stare. Fred's look was not tempered by
anything. He wanted to push her down and fuck her till he
came. A virgin who had never felt a cock in her pussy and
Fred wanted to rape her.
When they got out of Paul's car at the dance club, he came
over to her side and put little bracelets on Anne's wrists.
Before she could appreciate them though, he pulled Anne's
arms behind her and connected the bracelets.
To the casual observer Anne was merely holding her hands
behind her back. However, Anne was now unable to defend
herself in any way. She was truly at Paul's mercy. And to
make it worse, having her hands behind her back pushed her
breasts out.
Anne looked so small and helpless standing there that Paul
couldn't help himself, he pulled her to him and held her
while kissing her. He then reached down and started playing
with her clit right through the fabric of the dress.
Anne started to get hot, and then realized that there were
other couples near them walking through the parking lot on
their way to the club. He couldn't do this, not in front of
all these people. She buried her face in Paul's neck hoping
he would stop. Please don't do this in front of others she
prayed.
Paul stepped back and Anne's hopes rose. But he kept playing
with her clit, standing a foot back fro her. Anne stepped
toward Paul but he reached out and held her back. He then
raised her head by the chin so Anne was looking straight at
Paul.
Paul then started to really go at her clit. Anne started to
loose it. People were walking buy and looking at her. No one
was having any trouble figuring out what was going on. A
little way off, one group of men had stopped and was
watching. Others would slow down while staring. Across the
distance she could hear the comments "whore", "slut",
"cunt."
She didn't want this. She wasn't this kind of girl. Yet Paul
would start in on her and she would start panting in heat.
She would change into a sex hungry slut. Let them look. Let
them see the slut cum. She didn't care, she just wanted to
cum. Closer, closer, almost there. She stared at Paul and
prepared to cum - AND HE STOPPED.
"NO, NO, DON'T STOP" she shouted. Everyone looked over to
see what was bothering the dirty little slut. "Please Paul,
please keep going" she whispered. "Please Paul, I love you,
I'll do anything, but please don't stop."
"Don't stop what" he asked with a smile.
"What you're doing, please don't stop."
"What am I doing?"
"Getting me off."
"Not like that, tell me to get my slut off by playing with
her clit."
"I can't say that."
"Fine, lets go in."
Anne swallowed and whispered even quieter "please get your
slut off by rubbing her clit."
"What, I can't hear you."
"Please get your slut off by rubbing her clit" she said a
little louder.
Paul brushed her clit and asked again "what, I can't hear
you."
"PLEASE GET YOUR SLUT OFF BY RUBBING HER CLIT" she said loud
enough to be heard 20 cars away.
Paul started rubbing her clit again. "You better keep
telling me what you want, or I'll have to stop."
"Oh yes, rub my clit, rub your slut's clit, make me cum. I
need to cum so bad. Oh please don't stop. Oh yes, here it
comes, here it comes, I'm going to cum. AAAAGGGHH, oh no no
no. Don't stop, oh god don't stop, it keeps cuming, it keeps
cumming, oh god yes yes, get your little slut off, oh yes
get me off."
Paul moved up to Anne's side as she kept climaxing, rubbing
her clit with one hand and pulling on her hair with the
other to raise her head up. "Open your eyes slut and look at
your audience. They all want to see the slut cuming in the
parking lot."
Anne gasped as she saw 30, no 40 people staring at her with
lust in their eyes. What kind of cheap slut would get off in
front of so many people. None of them, that's for sure. They
all knew she was the biggest slut at the club tonight. And
they were all watching her cum.
"Oh no, oh god no" Anne moaned as she saw everyone looking
at her. She tried to bring her arms up to cover herself but
couldn't because of the bracelets. She tried to crouch down
but Paul's grip on her hair stopped that.
And Paul's other hand, Paul's other hand kept working on her
clit. And the climaxes kept coming, even more intense now
that she was aware of her audience. How could she cum with
people watching her. She was sick, sick and perverted. She
was getting off on the audience and that was just sick.
And Paul whispered in her ear "do you want me to stop."
Of course she wanted him to stop. She didn't want to be this
disgusting girl climaxing in front of this growing crowd.
But the words wouldn't come out of her mouth. She kept
cumming and cumming in a never-ending roll of climaxes.
"I'm going to stop" Paul said loud enough for the crowd to
hear. "I'm going to stop playing with you my little slut."
"NO NO DON'T STOP, OH PLEASE DON'T STOP" she begged loudly.
The words were out of her mouth before she even thought
about it. She didn't want to stop cuming. Each cum was more
powerful than the one before and she didn't want it to stop.
Let them all watch her. Let everyone know how sick and
disgusting and perverted she was. As long as she could keep
cuming she didn't care. And the thought of everyone watching
her turned her on even more. And then she started to hear
them.
"What a hot slut." "dirty tramp" "pig" "perverted cunt"
"whore" "fuck-meat"
And then Paul stopped. "OH NO NO NO, PLEASE DON'T STOP, JUST
ONE MORE CUM, PLEASE JUST ONE MORE CUM" she begged, sobbing
with need.
"You stopped telling me my slut needed her clit rubbed."
"Oh please, your slut needs her pussy rubbed" she pleaded.
"Too late, you stopped."
"Oh please please please. I'll do anything, anything." Anne
had totally forgotten about her audience and was begging
Paul.
"I don't know, lets ask your fans." he said turning her to
once again face the audience. "You have to get them to ask
me to rub you. Ask them."
Anne paled. She couldn't do that. She couldn't sink that
low. She just couldn't. But that next cum was waiting right
there on the edge, with another right behind it. And these
people would watch the dirty little whore cum more - seeing
how badly she needed it.
"Please she said, looking at the ground, please please."
"Please what slut" said a voice in the crowd.
Anne looked up with both shame and hope in her eyes.
"Please, please tell him" she begged looking for the source
of the voice.
"Tell him what" came another voice.
Oh god Anne thought, as another cum shot through her, just
from the thought of having to ask a stranger to cum. God,
she was such a disgusting little fuck-wad. "Please tell him
to get me off."
Some of the crowd started to tell Paul when a loud voice
said "I don't think so whore. I don't think you've asked us
properly. I say no until we here the slut ask correctly."
Other voices then picked up the same refrain "not yet, ask
us better."
"Please ask Paul to get his little slut off. Please ask him
to play with my clit. I'm a dirty little whore and I need to
have my clit rubbed. Oh please please ask him to get me off,
I need to cum, I need it. I need it."
Once again the voices started to tell Paul to get her off,
and he was actually brushing her clit, when the same loud
voice said "no I don't think so. Maybe later but she just
doesn't sound sincere to me. Maybe later in the club."
No she thought, no they can't mean it. "Please, please I
have to get off. Paul's dirty little slut needs to get off.
I'll do anything to get off. I have to get off, oh please
ask him to get me off. I'm a dirty little pig cunt whore
slut who needs to get off. Oh please."
But the crowd was turning away. A few were staying but when
they saw the others leaving, everyone started to move. No
one wanted to be the one person left staring at the dirty
little slut.
"PLEASE PLEASE, OH GOD DON'T LEAVE, I NEED IT I NEE----"
Paul slapped her hard, once twice, three times until she
shut up. Anne looked like she had just run a marathon. Her
hair and body were totally soaked in her sweat. Her eyes
looked like the eyes of a wild animal. She was shaking with
need.
Paul pulled her to him and held her for a minute as her
shaking died down a little. The he backed off and asked her
"we can leave right now if you want. I'll take you to your
car and you can drive straight home. Or we can go in the
club. But if we go in you're going to have to dance with
others and they will touch you. No one will fuck or hurt you
but they will touch you."
Anne looked up at him in desperation. She couldn't go home
now. Her little vibrator in the privacy of her room just
didn't come close to the need she had right now. But letting
others touch her. She just couldn't do that. She just
couldn't. She might be Paul's sex toy but she wasn't really
a slut. No other man had touched her and Paul hadn't
actually fucked her. For all she had been through, most of
her prudish upbringing hadn't been violated.
"Wha-what kind of touching?"
"None of your business. If you don't want it we'll go home"
and Paul turned toward the car.
"NO" she shouted. Again her instincts had betrayed her, or
maybe shown the true Anne. "No, I don't want to leave.
Paul put his jacket on the parking lot and pushed Anne down
so she was kneeling on it looking up at him. Paul reached
down and put his thumb in her mouth. Anne automatically
started to suck, it was a reassuring thing in what was
presently a very uncertain world.
"One last thing. I'm really horny right now. I can't wait
all night before you get me off. I got you off so I think
its only fair you get me off." Anne pulled at her arms and
then asked Paul to undo her bracelets. "Oh no" he said,
"those stay on for now. You're going to have to do it with
your mouth."
Anne blanched. Finally here it was, the moment she had been
dreading up to now. Paul was asking for sex. Her mind had
never actually addressed the fact that her virginity might
truly be at stake. Through all of this she assumed, since
she was a "good girl" and a virgin, that sex would somehow
be magically avoided.
Paul looked down at Anne as she looked up at him. He used
his hands to lightly stroke her face. "Beautiful beautiful
Anne, you are going to suck my cock. I'm going to stick it
in your mouth and down your throat. And you are going to
love it because you are such a slut - aren't you?"
Anne looked up mesmerized by Paul's face. So many
conflicting emotions running through her mind. She was not
really a slut. She was just a 17 year old kid playing a
grown-up game. But sex, that was a part for grown-ups. At
the same time, she was hot. She had cum she didn't know how
many times and had even more cums waiting to explode. Her
body was telling her to do anything, just so she could cum
again.
Paul reached out and used one hand under her jaw to hold her
mouth open. He then used the other to move his thumb in and
out of her mouth. Anne started sucking again. It was
something safe to focus on. And it felt good. But still, she
couldn't, she just couldn't do it.
Then she heard Paul's soft voice telling her that he loved
her, that she was his little slut, and that she had to suck
his cock. Because a slut sucked her boyfriends cock. There
was no two ways around it and she had to do it - she had to.
Suddenly Paul pulled his thumb out of her mouth and there
was his prick. She had seen it before when jacking him off
but it had never looked this menacing before. Paul put one
hand on the back of her head forcing her head toward his
prick while the other held her jaw open.
She didn't resist. Paul moved her and then his prick was in
her mouth. Paul held it there, barely in her mouth, and told
her to suck it. He was telling her that that's what a slut
did, when a prick was in her mouth she sucked it. Paul's'
voice mesmerized her, telling her that he loved his sweet
little whore and that she had to suck his cock. The voice
kept repeating in her head. Pretty soon it seemed like a
message, not from Paul, but from within her.
Up to now, Paul had actually been bringing out parts of Anne
that had always existed. Parts that normally would be
counterbalanced but parts of her nonetheless. Now for the
first time he took her beyond what was really Anne. As Anne
started to suck, a part of her died.
It was not a blaring event. But Anne felt part of herself
permanently betrayed. She had crossed a line. And she
started to cry. Not major sobbing, but the tears started
flowing out of her eyes, down her cheeks, and dripping onto
Paul's jacket.
She continued to suck Paul's cock, just as she had his
thumb. Paul held her head and fucked her mouth. And she
heard his voice quietly repeating, "that's a good little
slut. Good little sluts suck their master's cock. this is
what you are supposed to be doing." It kept repeating again
and again as she sucked, in rhythm with the cock going in
and out of her mouth. And again, after awhile, it seemed
like the message was actually coming from within her.
Paul looked down at Anne. She looked so beautiful with her
hands behind her back, her chest stuck out with the tits
clearly visible, and her mouth quietly sucking on his cock.
And most beautiful of all, the constant trail of tears
dripping down her face. Tears so constant that he had
obviously broken some strong limit that used to be within
her.
Cuming was almost anti-climatic. Anne didn't even seem to
realize Paul had cum, continuing to mechanically suck until
he pulled his cock out. Paul knelt down next to her and held
her. And Anne sobbed and sobbed into Paul's shoulder over
what she had lost. She wanted it back so bad but it was gone
forever.

Finally, Paul stood Anne up to take her into the club. Anne
was still crying but he didn't want to spend the rest of the
night in the parking lot. As the entered, the bouncer
demanded an ID for Anne. Needless to say, she didn't have
one. Paul the offered to let the bouncer play with her tits
if he let them in.
Suddenly Anne woke from her fog. What had Paul just said.
Suddenly there were a pair of hands mashing her tits. She
tried to move away but Paul was holding her. Oh god, this
couldn't be happening. She didn't know this person. She
wasn't some slut anyone could handle. Oh please stop her
eyes begged Paul.
Paul finally pulled her away to the rude "nice honkers" from
the bouncer. She hung her head in shame. She was now not
just Paul's slut, but the slut of anyone he gave her to. The
next several hours were pure hell for Anne, even though she
spent most of it aroused or cumming.
Paul had her dance with a different man every dance. And
they all took advantage of her hands locked behind her back
to play with her tits and cunt. Some just reached in and got
her off. Those weren't so bad.
But most of them made her beg for it. She had to tell them
exactly what she wanted, what a whore she was. And she had
to listen to them telling her that she was the dirtiest most
perverted little slut they had ever met.
And she came and came and came. Each dance was one long
climax. And the whole time she knew that she was nothing but
a piece of fuck meat to all of her partners. Most of them
actually came in their pants while dancing with her.
And each dance others looked at her as she was brought off.
No one made any big secret about it. The slow songs were the
worst because everyone on the dance floor could hear her
begging to be jerked off, and then cuming.
After an hour of this, Paul undid her bracelets so her hands
could move in front. But he then had her jack off her dance
partner. There she would be, stroking someone's cock on the
dance floor while everyone watched. And with her busy the
men didn't bother to get her off, so she didn't have her
orgasms to hide behind.
And each of them, as they came, would hold her close. Her
hands, and the front of her dress became totally covered
with jism. She would walk off the dance floor and each time
people would see the growing patch of whit semen all over
the front of her dress. That had to be the worst, walking
off the floor with everyone looking at the cum covered slut.
Toward the end of the evening men were starting to push for
a turn at her. It became clear that not everyone would get a
chance. Paul started sending out two men at once, one for
each hand. Then, as soon as one had cum, he would leave and
another would go out to her on the dance floor. It stopped
those terrible walks off with everyone looking at her. But
instead, it was now so obvious that everyone else had
stopped dancing and stood in a circle watching her.
Pretty soon two wasn't enough and there were 2 more, one
sliding his prick against the front of her dress and one
against the back. Pretty soon cum had coated all sides of
her dress. Then someone tried pulling up the back of her
dress. Paul stopped him and pushed everyone back - thank
god. She had almost lost her virginity.
But it was still a dangerous situation. There were about 40
or 50 men who all had monster hard-ons surrounding her. Paul
forced her down to her knees and had everyone gather around
her. There were too many for Anne to get them off, so he
told her to play with herself to turn them on.
She looked at him, she couldn't do that. It wasn't a
question of would she, she just psychologically couldn't.
Then Paul got down next to her and whispered "if you aren't
very careful, you'll get raped by 40 guys and I can't stop
it. Play with your pussy and tits - and stay kneeling. If
you lay down you'll be raped."
Anne realized she had to and brought a hand to her pussy and
started rubbing. She started talking dirty to all of the
men, "please cum all over my slutty little face, please jack
off over the little whore. I'm a little slut and I need to
feel your cum all over my face. Please give me your cum."
And as Anne talked she pulled up the front of her cum-
encrusted dress and started rubbing her clit as fast as she
could. The other hand went to squeeze her boob. That was all
it took. Pricks started exploding.
There were so many people a lot missed her. But a lot got on
her too. I had never seen someone drowned in cum before. But
Anne was. She had cum covering every part of her body. What
a delicious little piece of fuck meat.
And as the cum started landing the most amazing thing
happened. Anne started cumming. Cum after cum wracked her
young body. The utter degradation of having 40 strange cocks
pour their semen on her had her hitting a level of climax
she had never before achieved.
The whole way home in the car Anne was playing with her clit
and scooping cum with the other hand into her mouth. She
never stopped having an orgasm the entire way home.

Chapter 7 - the next few weeks

Poor Anne, when she dropped by the next week, Paul showed
her the tape a friend of mine had made of the entire
evening. What that tape showed was not a young girl, but a
insatiable cum receptacle. With some very minor editing it
showed a girl who got off on the most filthy degradation.
Who could never get enough cum. And who came and came
repeatedly.
After showing it, in front of her Paul put the tape in a box
addressed to her dad. Anne turned white as a ghost. She
suddenly realized that the old tape was tame stuff compared
to this. For this her dad might very well kill her. She
turned to me with the look of an animal that knows it is
about to die.
"Don't worry sweet slut" Paul told her. This will remain
here as long as you behave yourself. And then Paul slapped
Anne as hard as he could.
Anne's hands flew to her cheek as the tears started and she
backed away from Paul.
"Come back here NOW Anne. In front of me with your hands
down or by god, I'll drive the tape over to your father
now."
Anne stepped back braced for another slap. Paul reached up
but didn't slap. Instead he gently pushed her shoulders
down, and moved her head so it was back normally, not all
tensed up. Then he slapped her again on the other cheek, as
hard as he could.
Anne dropped to the floor crying "why Paul, what do you want
me to do, just tell me" she begged.
"Get back up NOW he said" pulling her up. Paul's hands went
to move her around again but Anne knew what would follow and
stayed tensed up. "If you're not going to relax tell me now
and I'll just take the tape and go."
"Please tell me what I did wrong. Oh god, please don't hit
me. I'll do anything, just tell me what you want me to do"
Anne sobbed with tears running down her cheeks.
"I want you to relax and hold still slut. Now do it before I
loose my patience."
Anne did the best she could, holding still with her eyes
wild with fright. Paul faked several slaps causing Anne to
jerk and cry out. Finally, after the fakes slowed her down,
Paul let out another slap knocking her down again.
"Please please oh my god please tell me what I did" begged
Anne. "I'll suck your cock, I'll fuck you, I'll do anything
you want."
Paul pulled her up as she kept babbling with fear. The look
in her eyes had him hard as a rock. It was pure victim. She
didn't want to get hit but she wouldn't defend herself. She
would beg and plead and abase herself. But she would stand
there and take the slap. "there is no reason" he said. One
more should really get the message through.
Paul this time positioned her head perfectly for the slap.
He lined his hand up, making real clear it was coming. Anne
closed her eyes in anticipation so Paul told her to open
them. Anne stared at Paul's hand in abject fear as he swung
and nailed her again.
But during the entire swing, Anne never moved out of the
way. She didn't know why Paul was hurting her. She knew the
slap was coming and she stood there and took it. Because
Paul had the right to do anything to her. With those slaps,
those unexplained slaps, Paul tore away Anne's belief that
she could tell Paul no. She was his.
Paul then pushed her down on her knees and had her suck him
off. However, it wasn't gentle this time. Each time he
pushed a little further into her mouth ignoring her
protestations. When Anne put up a hand to hold stop his
prick from going in as far Paul pulled out, slapped Anne
twice, and pumped back in, without saying a word. Anne kept
her hands down.
Pretty soon he was into her throat and then he was all the
way banging her nose into his crotch. Her young throat felt
so good around his cock with her gagging massaging his cock.
Paul started holding his cock in for 20 seconds and then
letting it our for Anne to take a breath.
Anne couldn't breathe. The last time out she hadn't gotten a
good breath and now Paul was down her throat again. She had
to breathe, she reached up and pushed at Paul, trying to get
him to back out. Paul pulled out and looked at her. She knew
it was coming and held her face up for it.
But he didn't slap her. She opened up her eyes to see him
looking at her. He turned around and then he was holding
something in his hands. Paul flicked one of her tits with
his finger. It hurt but it made her nipple stick out. Then
suddenly her tit was in agony. She reached for her tit but
Paul held her arms. She looked down and saw an alligator
clip on her tit squeezing it.
Paul then handed her the second clip and nodded toward her
other nipple. Oh god no she thought. I can't stand to have
that on there. I can't put it there. Then she heard him say
"I can put it on your clit if you'd rather." She had to do
it. She was Paul's' sex toy and that's what he wanted. She
reached up and tried to gently release the clip on her
nipple. It still hurt like crazy.
Paul the grabbed her head and started fucking her throat
again, holding her head by the sides. She now had even more
trouble breathing because her nipples hurt so much that she
sometimes forgot to take a breath. But even when she was
about to pass out she didn't raise her hands. Not to push
Paul, not to save her nipples.
And then Paul rammed her head against his cock, almost
breaking her nose against his pelvic bone and he pumped his
cum directly into her stomach. He held his cock all the way
in her throat for the next 3 minutes but his cock got small
enough that she could breathe around it.
Then as she looked up at him in fear, Paul reached down and
removed the clips. Finally - relief. Anne held her mangled
tits and waited to see what was next. After what had
transpired, the rest was pretty tame.
Paul had Anne watch porno flicks. Every afternoon when she
could come over, he had her watch the videos while playing
with herself. Anne actually came to enjoy this. The films
turned her on and playing with the vibrator felt good too.
It was not the kind of climaxes she had when Paul dragged
her through the gutter. But it was pleasant cum after
pleasant cum. And after the first afternoon, it was a
welcome relief.
Sometime while watching Paul would walk in and have her blow
him. Nothing major, just a blow job and then back to the
movie. Paul even had her use the vibrator on herself while
blowing him so she got off too.
And occasionally Paul would have her get on all fours facing
the TV screen and would spank her bottom while she watched.
Anne actually found herself looking forward to the spanking
sessions since that turned her on more than just watching.
Of course, Paul was careful to pick out the right kind of
videos. He never got any that had scenes of men and women in
love with each other. Instead, all the videos were ones
where men used the women. And over time the films got
nastier and nastier until Paul was showing Anne European
films that couldn't be rented in the US.
Meanwhile, every day Anne wore her butt plug, removing it
only to shit and shower. And each week Paul gave Anne a
slightly bigger plug to help open up her ass. One day Paul
gave Anne an enema bag and told her to start using that
daily, increasing the volume regularly and reporting the
size she could take.
And through all of this Anne tried to live a normal life
away from Paul. She went to school, worked at the video
store, and spent time at home with her family. However, Paul
was always there somehow. Every morning and night when she
used her vibrator, his face filled her fantasy.
One Sunday he met her at church just before the service. The
slipped into a bathroom and Paul gave Anne an enema and then
plugged it with her butt plug. Anne spent the entire service
next to her father, wanting to release the enema and unable
to during the service, and afterward when she had to walk
around with her parents. Finally she got away and released
it.
And finally Paul gave her tapes to play on her walkman when
she was jogging. The tapes were a combination of the sound
from porno movies, and Anne's commenting about herself while
cumming. And behind it all, was Paul's soft voice telling
her how she was his slut, and that she was his to use
however she pleased.
Anne would be jogging down the street, normal people all
around her, and she would be hearing people fucking or
herself in the throes of passion. She was hearing this so
often while viewing everyday normal life that she started to
associate everything with sex. It was never off her mind.
And on the weekend they would go dancing. But it was always
so tame compared to the last time that Anne never objected
to anything. Paul would play with her tits while ordering
from the waitress. Or he would spread Anne's legs and life
her skirt and play with her clit for people sitting across
from them.
Many times he had Anne scrunch down, spread her legs, and
pull her pussy lips apart to show others the view under the
table. He started training her to never sit on her skirt,
but to always raise the back of it. For many of her tight
dresses this had the effect of pulling the skirt to her
waist, clearly showing her pussy. But Paul allowed no
exceptions.
Anne came to accept that others would see her tits and
pussy. Every time she showed any modesty, Paul took a belt
to her ass and beat it out of her. And Anne much preferred
showing her cunt to being whipped. So when they went out, it
just became a fact of life to Anne that others would see her
cunt. She was Paul's slut and that was that.
And when they slow danced, Paul would usually play with her
pussy. Anne loved that, out there in the middle of all those
people being brought to a quiet orgasm. And at least once
per evening she would return the favor, bringing Paul to
orgasm, staining the front of her dress.
And as she continued to watch the porno films each
afternoon, she started to see women tied down and whipped
lightly, the whippings became heavier and heavier. Women
were pierced. Women drank piss, Women fucked dogs. But each
time something new was introduced, it was a gradual change.
And Anne had become so conditioned to climaxing constantly
while watching, that she kept climaxing to more and more
depraved acts. And they were turning her on. Anne loved
seeing a woman treated in the most vile manner.
Pretty soon there wasn't anything worse to get for Anne. So
he had her pick favorite parts to watch again and again.
Anne found herself judging the films and repeating the
scenes where women were treated the worst. She was selecting
knowing what Paul wanted. But in the course of making those
selections, she was making her own preference be for the
films where the woman was treated the worse.
And this was Anne's "normal" life. To watch women tortured
unmercifully every afternoon and to get off on it. To jog
around town in everyday places listening to tapes of violent
sex. To go out Saturday night and arrange her dress so men
could easily see her cunt and tits. Wearing an ass plug
constantly. Giving herself an enema daily. And using
vibrators every night and morning.
All this poured into the mind of an impressionable young 17
year old girl who had never known love, had never been told
there was another way, and who had all the normal worries of
a high school senior, homework, parents, friends. The mind
is a wonderful thing. Make almost anything routine and the
mind will adapt to handle it. Anne remained a well adjusted
teen girl, at least it appeared so.

Chapter 8 - Halloween

Both Paul and Anne had been very careful to keep Anne's
"normal" life separate from her life with Paul. Just a
whisper of Anne's seeing an older man, older being anyone
out of High School, would bring way too much scrutiny from
Ann's father, and possibly the police. Paul did not want to
see that happen. And Anne, she would never be able to face
anyone ever again if the truth came out. So Anne lived two
lives.
But with a Halloween dance at Anne's school, Paul was
determined to go with her. With a costume on, no one would
know who he was, or his age.
Anne on the other hand felt depressed when Paul told her
that he would go with her. She did not understand why but
inside her, school had been her refuge from Paul and her
family. School was the one place where she could relax with
her friends and just have the worries and problems of every
other 17 year old girl. School was where the real Anne
lived.
But Paul didn't ask Anne if she wanted him to go. And Anne
didn't offer Paul her opinion - not on anything. So Anne was
going to the dance with Paul. She arrived Friday evening at
Paul's house as instructed.
Paul then laid out her costume for her. It was a bridal
gown. Anne was uneasy as soon as she saw the gown. This
wasn't right. Marriage was something very special to her.
Like most young girls, she knew that someday she would find
the right boy and they would get married. And that day would
forevermore be one of the most special days in her life.
Marriage was for love and caring and a lifetime commitment
with that one special boy. Anne's eyes started to mist over
as she thought of someday finding that boy and being happily
married. And then, with a word from Paul she was shaken out
of her daydream.
"Get dressed my little whore wife."
NO, no he couldn't drag this dream down into the gutter with
her. Not this. It would mean that when she really got
married, it would just be a reminder of one more sex game
Paul played with his little whore. He couldn't do this to
her. He couldn't destroy what would someday be the most
special day of her life. He just couldn't take that away
from her.
"Oh no Paul, please not that dress. I can't dress as a
bride, I just can't. Oh god, please don't make me do it."
And with that Anne threw herself at Paul's feet sobbing and
holding his feet and begging him to let her wear something
else.
Paul was totally taken aback by this. He had plans for later
in the evening that would make the dress appropriate. But he
had never expected this kind of reaction. Just the thought
of wearing it was devastating Anne. He really really needed
to take this into consideration.
Paul crouched down and pulled Anne up so she was kneeling
too, facing up to him. He had never seen a face so full of
anguish and despair. Anne was shivering with fear. So much
so that she would probably have fallen over if he hadn't
been holding her.
"Dear dear Anne" Paul said softly stroking her face. "Don't
you love me. Don't you love me more than anything?"
"Ye-yes Paul, I love you. Oh dear god I love you. But please
do---"
Paul put a finger on her lips and shushed her. Then he went
back to stroking her face. "And I love you my little piece
of fuck-meat. You're my sweet little whore. You're my
special little hot cunt."
And with each word Paul said Anne shook as though hit. Her
poor little mind didn't know how to take the loving words
that also called her a slut. The gentle hand stroking her
face as Paul continued to tell her how he loved to watch her
suck his cock and spread his cum all over her face. Her mind
wanted to both hold Paul for saying he loved her and run for
being called a slut.
Paul continued to talk to Anne watching her get wound up
tighter and tighter. "Such a beautiful little girl when you
lie back and masturbate while watching porno videos. I love
you so much when I see you dancing with other men jacking
their cocks off onto the front of your dress. Such a vision
of loveliness when you spread your legs under the table and
pull your pussy lips apart to show other men your cunt. I
dream of you every night, thinking of you at home, using
your vibrator on your clit, while your parents are sleeping
in the room next to yours."
And Anne got more and more confused. Paul was talking in the
gentle voice of a kind man who loved her. And he was telling
her that. But with each comment about the acts he made her
perform, she wanted to scream and run away. God, her shaking
was getting so bad she had to put both arms around Paul's
neck to not fall over.
Yes, she was a slut. But Paul loved her that way. It was ok
that she was a slut, no - no it wasn't. She wasn't really a
slut. She was a good girl. Yes, she really was - wasn't she.
But no, a good girl wouldn't do all those things. She was a
slut and Paul loved her anyways. Even with everything she
had done, he still loved her. But no, no, she---
And as Paul say her eyes go totally vacant and her shaking
become even more pronounced, he reached down to her clit and
started rubbing while whispering to her "whore, cunt, slut,
fuck-meat, cum for me you little slut - you know that's what
you want. Cum all over my fingers and show me what a whore
you are."
No, he couldn't be doing this to her. What kind of slut did
he think she was trying to get her to cum now. She wasn't a --
oh my god, "NO NO NO, OH GOD NO PLEASE GOD NO" Anne
shouted as she started to cum.
She didn't know it, but her mind was so overwhelmed, it
needed anything to release all the tension it was under -
anything. And so it released through the cum. And released
and released and released. Paul stopped rubbing her clit and
still, Anne climaxed for about 5 minutes. It was the
strongest cum she had ever had.
And the entire time, Paul held her close and whispered
lovingly in her ear "that's it, cum my little cunt. I love
you my little slut. Just let it go my little whore. Show me
how you need to cum and cum and cum my sweet sweet piece of
trash."
And the words kept pounding into Anne's mind as the cum
rolled on and on and on. And to not get totally lost in the
anarchy her mind was in, she clung to the one rock that was
available. She held on to Paul. And she fastened her mind on
to the fact that he loved her. Paul loved her and would save
her. It was all ok...

Finally the orgasm stopped and Anne slumped in Paul's arms.
Paul stroked her head for a minute and then stood her up.
Anne was on automatic pilot. She just stood there as Paul
dressed her. First he put a white corset on her. It went
from her waist to the bottom of her breasts.
Paul then tightened and tightened it. Because Anne was so
zoned out, her body didn't fight the tightening at all and
Paul was able to reduce her waist by 7", more than ever
before. She now was almost a charactature of the perfect
feminine waist.
After that came white lace stockings and gloves. The gloves
went almost to her shoulders. And both the gloves and
stockings had a special feature. Sewn in at the wrist and
ankle were very unobtrusive restraints. Even looking close
it merely looked like heavy lace with a decorative
shoestring. But once Paul tied up the shoestring Anne could
not remove them and the loops in the shoestring could be
used to tie her down.
And then came the dress (no underwear for Ann on her wedding
night). It didn't have a train because that wouldn't work at
the party. What it did have was almost 100 buttons that
buttoned from the throat (where the collar could also be
used as a restraint) to the hem at the floor.
From the hips down it billowed out with multiple petticoats
underneath. But from the waist up it was skin tight, giving
Anne that virginal look all wedding dresses achieve, while
still fully displaying and incredibly sexy body.
Paul buttoned up most of the buttons, leaving Anne's breasts
exposed for the moment. And then he put Anne's wedding hat
on her, complete with veil. There she stood, a vision of
loveliness, the radiant bride, waiting for her groom.
Now Paul couldn't let anyone see him. One look at his face
would let people know he was in his mid 20s. So he had
rented a gorilla suit. And over the gorilla suit he wore a
tuxedo. So Anne had her groom - a gorilla.
After Paul dressed he walked over to Anne and pushed her to
her knees. He then pulled out his cock (a popular feature in
the gorilla costume was a removable crotch piece), lifted
Anne's veil, and pushed his cock into Anne's mouth.
Anne started sucking automatically. And with that she woke
out of her daze. Here she was in her wedding dress, with a
beast as a groom, sucking his cock. That was only right for
a slut like her. She did not deserve a normal wedding with a
nice young boy. No, for her wedding she belonged on her
knees, blowing the man she loved. A man who was a beast,
which a dirty piece of scum like her was lucky to have.
And tears started rolling down Anne's cheeks as the dream
within her, that special dream in every young girl, about
that special wedding that would some day happen, as that
dream was replaced by the reality of what would be. That
some day, the little whore would drop to her knees, blow her
groom, so he might be willing to marry a sleazy tramp.
Paul looked down and saw the tears. God how he loved to
watch her cry. He loved that more than anything else he
thought. If he could have her constantly in tears,
constantly crying for parts of her soul she was loosing,
then, well life would be just about perfect.
Paul reached down and pushed Anne's head away from his
prick. He then pulled her veil down and pushed his cock,
with the veil around it, into Anne's mouth. "That's it my
blushing virginal bride. Suck my cock through your veil.
Whenever you wear a veil again you can think of sucking my
cock through it. Won't you love your wedding when you walk
down the aisle and all you can think of is my cock coming
through your veil, into your mouth?"
And with his words Anne's tears became even more pronounced,
gushing down her cheeks to land in her lap. Yes she was just
a cock-sucking whore. And that's all she would be when she
got married. Oh god Paul, don't ever leave me she thought.
No other man would be willing to marry someone as slutty as
her. Oh please don't ever leave me.
And then Paul started to cum. He pulled his cock out of her
mouth and sprayed his cum all over her still exposed
breasts. He then wiped his cock off on her chest and put it
away. "Button up your dress whore, you don't want your
friends to know what a dirty slut you are."
Anne looked down through her tears. There was cum all over
her chest. She sobbed even harder as she buttoned the dress
up, mashing the cum between her wedding dress and her tits.
Anne, the little girl would still have her dream of someday
having that special wedding. But that dream would always
include having fresh cum on her tits while walking down the
aisle. Another little piece of Anne had died.

Anne and Pail had a fun, and relatively normal time at the
party. There wasn't much Paul could do there if he wanted.
So instead, he acted as though there were bride and groom,
about to get married.
And Anne, Anne was in heaven. Paul, who she loved so very
much, was there by her side and being just wonderful. Anne
was actually, for the first time in her life, seeing how a
normal relationship worked. Anne didn't know it was normal.
She found it very strange. But she also found it wonderful.
And the euphoria swept her up into the play-acting. Yes they
were bride and groom, about to get married. And it was
Halloween, and kids were drinking in the corners, so what
was one pair acting as though it was their wedding. Totally
normal by any standards.
Yes thought Anne, this is wonderful. I'm in love with a
wonderful man that I'm going to marry. And he loves me and
everything will be so wonderful. Not even the dried cum on
the inside of her wedding dress could spoil it.
On the drive back from the party to Paul's house Anne laid
back and floated on a cloud. This had been the most
wonderful night of her life. Yes, everything was wonderful.
When they got to the house Paul insisted on carrying Anne in
through the doorway. He then looked down on the serenely
happy face and smiled. She was so completely happy right
now, he couldn't imagine a better setup.
"Well my blushing bride, its our wedding night. And you know
what that means don't you?" Paul asked as he headed toward
his bedroom.
It took a couple of seconds to sink in through the euphoria
and then Anne started to realize, oh god no - he can't be
planning to have sex with me. oh god no.
Paul say the horror creep onto Anne's face and smiled again.
Yes, as he had thought, from the heights of estacy to the
depths of despair. This was going to be one hell of a ride
for her tonight. He had guessed as much, Anne hadn't really
believed that they would ever have sex.
Yes, Paul had dragged Anne through a lot. But he hadn't had
to override any of her central beliefs. He made her
masturbate - but that certainly didn't go against any basic
instincts. And she watched porno films that completely
degraded women. But the truth was she had come to get turned
on by those and Paul was a good excuse for watching them.
Even the blow-jobs weren't that bad. Around school they were
discussed as the last-ditch safety valve. If a boyfriend was
too insistent. If they both got too hot and heavy, well a
blow-job was ok then. It was a totally different area of the
body. It wasn't sex.
But sex. No she couldn't have sex. It was so inconceivable
to her that they would have sex that she had never really
seriously considered it. Sex was for that one special boy
when she got married. And there was not just 17 years of her
parents message, there was millions of years of evolution
behind this. No sex except for that one special boy.
And when that special boy would have come along, it would
have taken months to build up to the point where they had
sex. She had no experience of slowly blossoming love that
leads to that beautiful act of making love. Her mind had not
learned how to tie the two together and use making love to
build on the love between two people.
Suddenly Anne's body started struggling. Paul almost dropped
her at first, but then grabbed tighter and stepped into the
bedroom.
"NO NO NO NO NO. I WON'T DO THIS. YOU CAN'T DO THIS. LET ME
GO RIGHT NOW. I DON'T CARE ABOUT THE PICTURES, I DON'T CARE
ABOUT ANYTHING, LET ME GO, LET ME GO." Anne started
shouting.
Paul threw her down on the bed, threw himself on top of her,
and went to work fastening first her arms, and then her legs
to the straps he had waiting. "You're not going anywhere my
little slut bride. Its our wedding night and I'm going to
fuck your cherry. And it was so sweet that a little whore
like you kept her cherry for our wedding night."
"OH GOD NO, YOU CAN'T DO THIS. PLEASE LET ME GO. SEND MY
FATHER THE PICTURES, I DON'T CARE JUST LET ME GO RIGHT NOW.
YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME, I'M NOT A WHORE, I'M NOT, I'M NOT."
Anne was screaming now and struggling as hard as she could
against the straps tying her down.
Paul watched her frantically trying to get away while
unbuttoning her skirt from the hem to the waist. He had
expected resistance, but not this much. This wasn't a timid
creature that had to be pushed into place. This was the real
Anne fighting to save herself. This was a creature that
would not relent.
Paul suddenly realized that he could easily loose her
tonight. She had to return home or the police would be
called. And if he didn't break this inner Anne who had
surfaced, she would never return. Oh yes, he could ruin her
life. But he would still have lost Anne. And he didn't want
that to happen. He loved this wild creature he had tamed. He
loved her more than anything. And to keep that love, he
needed to break her.
"LET ME GO, LET ME GO, YOU CAN'T RAPE ME YOU CAN'T. I'LL
TELL THE POLICE, I'LL HAVE YOU ARRESTED. LET ME GO LET ME GO
YOU SON OF A BITCH."
With that Paul put his cock at the entrance of Anne's pussy
and pressed it in. "I'm raping you you little whore. How
does it feel to have your little slut pussy raped you
fucking cunt?"
"NO NO NO, DEAR GOD NO. TAKE IT OUT, OH PLEASE TAKE IT OUT.
DON'T RAPE ME, DEAR GOD DON'T RAPE ME."
"Feel my cock rape your wet hole. Tell me no, tell me no all
you want and I'll keep fucking your slit. You're a whore and
whore's need to be fucked. Slut, cunt hole whore fuck you
fuck you fuck you."
And as Anne fought and screamed, her body started to
respond. And Paul kept talking to her, telling her what he
thought of her as he fucked her. And Anne's body responded
more and more, and yet she was totally oblivious to that
response.
Until it mid-protest she came. "OH GOD NO, NO THIS CAN'T BE
HAPPENING, NO NO - OOOHHH GOOOODDD" and as Paul continued to
pump and Anne continued to climax her cries turned to ones
of joy "OH YES, YES, OH DEAR GOD YES."
"Its not rape if you cum slut. You can call it rape but if
you're loving it its not rape. Look at you, I raped you and
you're such a dirty little whore you're cumming. What a
disgusting little slut. You just love having a cock up your
pussy don't you whore?"
Anne looked at Paul in shock. No, no that wasn't true. It
was rape, He was raping her. She looked up at him and panted
between climaxes, "no, you're raping me you-- ooohh shit,
oohh god, oohh -- yo-you're raping meeee ooohhh goooddd."
And they argued for the next 3 minutes. God she has a strong
will thought Paul. And all during that time he kept pumping
his cock into Anne and she kept cuming and cuming, arguing
and fighting between climaxes.
And finally Paul said "ok slut, its rape, tell me to stop,
tell me to stop fucking you - TELL ME NOW TO STOP YOU
FUCKING WHORE." And then Paul fucked has hard and fast as he
could.
And Anne looked up, started to say something, and came, and
came, and came, and then she started to say stop, but she
couldn't she just couldn't the cums were too powerful. And
then she broke. She couldn't say stop. She had to keep
cuming. "OH YES, OH YES, FUCK ME FUCK ME, OH GOD YES
OOOOOHHHHH GOOOODDDD YYYEEEEEESSS FUUUCCCKK MMEEEE."
And inside Anne, a very important part of what made Anne
crumpled up and blew away in the winds generated by her
voice screaming at Paul to fuck her. And as it left, Anne
tried to recapture it, but another cum hit, and she asked
Paul to fuck her again.
And Anne realized what she had lost. She had lost her moral
limits. If this wall could be torn down, than any wall could
be torn down. She had lost her willpower. Oh god, she had
lost everything. And with that, giant sobs took over Anne's
body and rivers of tears flowed down her cheeks.
And Paul continued to pump and Anne continued to have giant
climax after giant climax, and sobbing and crying at the
same time. And Paul looked down and knew he had never seen
her as beautiful as she was now. And this beautiful broken
creature was his.

The next 5 days Anne came over she always put up a fight at
first. But each time Paul would tie her down and fuck her
till she begged for more. And then she didn't fight anymore.
And then Paul made Anne beg to be fucked.
And Anne came to love being fucked by Paul. But each time,
in the back of her mind, a little voice would tell her that
it was wrong, very wrong. And that she was a slut for
enjoying it and asking for it. And usually, when she came,
Anne would cry from the shame. And Paul was very happy.

Chapter 9 - An New Body

Life was good. Anne was getting more and more wrapped up in
the porno movies she watched. She loved being fucked from
behind by Paul while watching a woman being tortured on the
screen. She was dressing and acting even more slutty when
they went out, flashing her pussy at anyone who looked,
without Paul even having to tell her to.
Anne always sat with her legs spread and never sat on the
back of her dress. Her tight dresses spent more time up
around her waist than pulled down over her ass and cunt.
Paul had fucked her several times seated at the table, and
even once on the dance floor.

Then one day he realized what was bothering him. He owned
Anne's mind but she still owned her body. Not control of her
body but the body itself. He had taken her will and bent and
destroyed it until she had no will except for what he
allowed.
But her body still looked like the body of the girl who used
to be her own person. And while she had a nice body, a
killer body in fact, her tits were only B and watching the
films, Paul had grown accustomed to the over-inflated
breasts that most of the new porn stars had.
Just the thought of DD breasts glued to Anne's petite little
frame got Paul so hot that he grabbed Anne's head and pumped
a load down her throat in 10 seconds.
And the face. It was beautiful but it had to change. Paul
didn't want anything different in particular, he just wanted
to change Anne. Then she would be completely a creature of
his own making, body and soul.
And so Paul dipped a little further into his savings. And he
found a plastic surgeon who was willing to work on Anne. The
doctor merely thought that Anne was an eager participant and
just wanted to hide the operation from her parents. But for
the money Paul was paying, he didn't really care to press
too hard about some of the requests. Because after all,
money was money.
But it did have to be kept hidden from Anne's parents. This
required two steps. The first was that Anne's breasts had to
"naturally" grow over the next several months. So Paul had
Anne start wearing a padded bra.
Paul didn't tell Anne why. And Anne didn't argue with Paul
anymore. What was a padded bra compared to jerking off 20
strange men in the parking lot outside a club, shooting
their semen all over her face. If Paul wanted her tits to
look bigger, then that's what Anne would do.
"You're such a little slut my dear" Paul said stroking her
face and explaining it to her. "And sluts have big slut
tits. You need to make everyone think you have big tits so
they know you're a slut. And as your chest gets bigger and
bigger everyone will start to think of you as a whore. They
may not say it but they'll know it."
And Anne looked up at Paul and knew he was right. Yes she
was a whore and a slut. And she needed to have whore tits so
everyone knew what a dirty little slut she was. So she wore
the padded bras everywhere, even under her nightgown in bed
at night. Because if her parents found out she was wearing a
padded bra, that she wanted to have tits that big, there
would be no end of hell to pay.
And every week, when Paul would give her a slightly larger
bra, she would get more and more stares at her chest. Pretty
soon she noticed that the boys at school never looked at her
face anymore. They would stare at her chest - their gaze
riveted on her swelling mounds. She even caught her father
looking at her at times in a totally different way.
Yes, yes, this was only right. Everyone was now seeing the
true Anne. Anne the whore. Anne the big-titted whore. And
every once in a while Anne would see someone who used to be
a friend, some who liked her for her, staring at her growing
udders and fantasizing about them, and something would catch
in her throat. Because she wasn't the kind of girl who had
friends - no she was a whore who was there for boys to fuck.
And then one Saturday the doctor was ready and Paul sat Anne
down and explained to her what was going to happen. "You've
been pretending that you're a big titted cow for 2 months
now. But you don't really have whore tits. All you really
have is little girl breasts. You're just a little baby."
Anne didn't know what to say to Paul. He was the one who
wanted her to wear the bra's. She couldn't help how her body
looked. What did he want her to do. Oh god, please don't let
him decide that she wasn't good enough. Why did she have to
have this little girl body. It wasn't fair. And she started
to cry despairing that her body wasn't good enough.
Paul smiled. "Its ok my precious little slut. Its ok. We're
going to fix it. We'll fix you're little girl body and turn
it into the body of a whore. Into a body to match the
perverted little slut that lives inside there. You have an
appointment in 2 hours for a plastic surgeon to give you a
boob job."
Anne looked up in shock. What, surgery? A boob job? She
looked down at her body. That was her. That was Anne. OH MY
GOD, a boob job meant this would never end. Any boy she met,
ever, would know she was a whore. They would all treat her
that way forever. There would never be any escape.
Anne suddenly realized, even with all the walls that had
been knocked down, with all the parts of her that had been
destroyed, her mind had still hidden away in some corner,
the hope that someday this would all end. And when it ended,
she would meet a normal boy, and they would lead a normal
life.
But the stares her fake chest had caused over the past
month. EVEN FROM HER OWN FATHER. No, no boy would settle
down to a normal life with a big titted whore. No, all she
could be then was a slut - forever. Paul couldn't do that,
not forever, no not that.
"Please Paul no, please don't make me do this. I'm still
just a kid. I'm only 17. I don't want to be a whore forever.
This is forever Paul, please dear god, I can't do this. Let
me wear the bras. I'll keep wearing the bras. I'll fuck you -
come on Paul, don't you want to fuck my pussy right now."
Paul looked down at Anne and took her face in his hands.
"You have to do it Anne, you're a whore. You're a complete
slut and slut's need big slut udders, not these little girl
breasts you have now. I love you Anne, I love my big titted
cow."
But she was still a little girl. Anne wanted to crawl back
into her mothers arms and have her mother make everything
all right. Your mommy used to do that when she was littler.
Her mommy would never hold a big titted cow in her arms. Oh
dear god, she didn't want to change. This body was her, this
was Anne, a little scared 17 year old child.
Paul looked down and saw the confused little girl looking up
at him and whimpering. So beautiful and sexy and adorable.
And how much nicer she would look with big whore udders
sticking out of that little chest.
"Ok my little slut, ok we won't do it." Paul said watching
Anne's face light up. "Leave."
Anne looked up confused. Leave? They hadn't done anything
yet today. Paul hadn't fucked her or had her suck him off.
She hadn't watched her videos yet. She was soo looking
forward to watching one where one woman had her pussy sewed
up and another was hung by her tits. Her big whore tits Anne
recalled with a jerk.
And tonight. They were going out tonight. Paul would make
her show men her pussy. She would have to dance with men and
let them feel her up and jack them off. Oh god, Paul would
probably make her jerk them off in the parking lot. Jerk
them off all over face and hair.
And as Anne catalogued what she had expected to do that day,
all the disgusting things she told herself, even then, that
she detested, she got aroused. Aroused over all the times
she would cum that day. And how intense it would be.
She suddenly heard Paul again - "Get out." What, get out?
What was wrong. didn't he want her? Didn't he want to spend
the day together?
"Get out, leave. Leave right now little girl and don't come
back. I don't have time for a little girl like you. Get out
of here" Paul said and with that he dropped his hands from
her face, turned and walked away.
oh no, OH GOD NO. Paul was throwing her out. They were
breaking up. No, NO NO NO. OH GOD NOOOO. She loved Paul. She
loved him more than anything. She couldn't lose him. She
couldn't. She just couldn't.
Anne ran after Paul and threw herself at his feet wrapping
her arms around his ankles and sobbing her heart out. "Oh
please god no Paul. I love you. I love you. Please don't
leave me. please please."
Paul smiled. The little whore did love him. Paul crouched
down and pulled Anne's tear streaked face up to him. "I
don't have any use for a little girl. Come back when you
grow up little baby. I need a woman who is a grown up big-
titted cow. I don't have any use for a little girl slut like
you. I want a woman whose body shouts out that the only
thing she could ever possibly be is a slut."
Anne looked up at Paul. Yes, yes she could be a big titted
cow for him. She could change. Paul had even set up the
operation for her. Paul loved her so much that he was
willing to help her change instead of just getting rid of
her. Oh god, Paul loved her and tried to help her and she
had blown it.
How could she have done this. Yes, Paul needed a slut with
big tits. She needed to have the kind of chest a whore
should have. She was Paul's special whore. She needed to
give him the kind of tits a whore should have. Oh god, how
could she have been so selfish after all Paul had done for
her.
"Ok, ok, I'll do it. I'll do it Paul" Anne sobbed up to
Paul.
"Its more than just your tits slut. He'll change your face,
he'll reduce your waist, and he'll change the tendons in
your feet so your feet are only comfortable in heels. This
is a complete make-over my little love fuck. You go in a
little 17 year old baby girl. You come out a grown up whore.
Do you want that? Do you slut?"
Oh god shuddered Anne. Oh god, she didn't want to do this.
But she loved Paul. She needed to keep him. And Paul needed
her to do this. This was important, no necessary to Paul.
How could she tell him no for something so important. Yes,
yes she would do this for him.
"Yes Paul, whatever you decide. I love you, I love you so
very much. Yes my love."
"There's one last thing my love" Paul said tenderly.
"There's only one way to get this past your parents."
Oh my god, her parents. The bra would have them ready for
new real boobs. But not changes to her face. What could she
tell them.
"I have to hit you in the face" Paul said, actually looking
sad. "That way the hospital records that you were assaulted,
the doctor fixes up your face, but in the process it
changes.
Anne looked at Paul in fear. Hit her, he had to hit her. "No
Paul, please no. Don't hit me, please don't hit me. I'll
work it out with my parents. I will. I'll make it ok, I
promise. Please don't hit me" Anne wailed.
"I love you Anne. I don't want to hurt you. But I have to.
You can't make it right with your parents otherwise. I love
you my darling darling Anne. I'm sorry but I have to hit you
and break your nose."
Anne looked up at Paul and realized he really didn't want to
hit her. He did love her. Oh god, he loved her so much. He
didn't want to hit her and was going to do it anyways
because he loved her so much. Yes, yes, if he had to do it
she didn't want to cause him more pain by fighting it.
"Ok Paul, hit me. Break my nose. Do it, hit me" Anne said
and looked up at Paul.
Paul cocked his fist back, prepared to swing, and looking at
Anne suddenly realized, he couldn't do it. He couldn't hit
this beautiful creature. He loved her too much. He loved the
little slut. And he lowered his arm.
Anne was so tensed up for the punch it took her a couple of
seconds to realize what was happening. He wasn't hitting
her. Why not? What was wrong. Oh god, did she do something
wrong.
"I-I-I ca-can't do it" Paul said. "I can't hit you dear
Anne."
Relief swept through Anne's body. And then she realized, he
loved her so much. Oh god, he loved, her he loved her, he
loved her. But - but he needed a big titted whore. How would
she get in to the hospital. Oh god, what if left her now.
Paul looked over at Anne. "You need to help me Anne. Help me
hit you."
Anne looked confused. She had to help him. She couldn't do
that. It was all she could do to let him hit her. But wait,
she couldn't lose him. Not after he said he loved her. She
had to keep Paul, she had to.
"Its ok, go ahead and hit me" she said. "Its ok, I want you
to hit me Paul. I love you and I want you to hit me. Please
hit me, please hit me dear Paul my love" Anne begged.
Paul looked down at her and saw this yearning face that
loved him. He couldn't do it. He couldn't hit that. "PISS ME
OFF YOU CUNT."
"Wha-what?"
"Piss me off. Get me mad at you. Make me want to hit you you
dumb slut."
"You-you-you're mean, you're bad. You-you, oh you're a shit.
You're a lousy fuck. I love sucking all the other men off
but not you. I dance with other men because their cocks feel
so much nicer. My vibrator feels so much better than your
cock."
And it was starting to work. Paul was starting to get pissed
at this little tramp. How dare she say things like this to
him. How dare she.
And Anne could see he was starting to get worked up. She
continued to piss Paul off every way she could think of as
he got angrier and angrier. And then she could see it in his
eyes. He was ready. Ready to hit. And then she realized what
was holding him back. Even though he wanted to hit her now,
his love was stopping him. His love would stop him, no
matter how mad she got him.
And then she knew what to do. "I don't love you. I don't.
How could I love someone who can't even hit me. I hate you.
I hate you Paul." And as she saw Paul swing his fist toward
her face she shouted "yes hit me, hit m-- OOOOWWWWW OOOOHHH
GGGOOOOOODDDDD, IT HURTS IT HURTS. OH GOD PAUL IT HURTS SO
MUCH. OH GOD MAKE IT STOP PAUL."
And Paul collapsed to his knees next to Anne and gathered
her in his arms. "I love you Anne. I love you, I love you I
love you. I'm so so sorry Anne."
"Its ok Paul. I wanted you to do it. Oh god Paul, it hurts
so much. Please get me to the hospital. Please hurry."

Paul rushed Anne to the hospital. He reported that he had
seen some bum punch her so he ran over punched the bum and
rushed her to the hospital. At the hospital they were very
fortunate, Dr. Smith, an excellent plastic surgeon had just
had a patient "cancel" and had his team standing by. It all
worked just as Paul and Dr. Smith had planned.
Paul stayed in the surgery waiting room with Anne's family.
He was the concerned bystander who had helped a stranger
out. And with that act, was welcomed into Anne's family as a
hero. Someone who had rescued their baby from some awful
stranger. They all talked for hours as Anne was in surgery.
Meanwhile, Dr. Smith reduced Anne's nose to a much smaller
size. The cheeks he moved up. Paul hadn't cared how her face
changed as long as it was significant. For extra effect, Dr.
Smith removed most of Anne's eyebrows leaving two thin
lines.
Next came Anne's waist. The good doctor went in and
rearranged Anne's organs a little. The idea was to bring her
waist in by pushing some a little toward the ribcage and
others into the pelvis. It actually didn't take much to make
more room. And then he excised virtually all the fat in
there, cut out two strips of skin, and when sewn back up,
Anne had a waist that was permanently 4" narrower. Even in a
swimsuit, with no corset, Anne would have an extreme
hourglass figure.
The doctor then proceeded on the riskiest part of the
operation. He had talked to Paul about this and Paul though
it was worth trying. Instead of using silicone, the Doctor
was going to put the fat from Anne's stomach into her
breasts. Normally this wouldn't work. But at 17 Anne's body
was still growing. And her breasts were definitely still
growing. And the growing body had a decent chance of
accepting fat from another part of her own body.
Finally, after finishing Anne's new natural breasts, the
doctor moved to her ankles. He shortened her Achilles tendon
and loosened the tendons on the front of her ankle. Anne's
feet would now slip into a 5" heel when relaxed. And it
would be painful and difficult for her to hold her feet
flat.
Finally the doctor injected Anne's breasts with a growth
hormone to increase the chances of her body growing and
accepting the transplanted fat. Even in the surgery, with
surgical clothes draping her body, the doctor could see,
Anne now had a body designed for one thing - sex.
He then went out to report to the worried parents that their
daughter was ok. And to warn them that he had had to perform
major reconstructive surgery on her face. She would still be
beautiful, but her face would be a little different. Anne's
parents were so relieved that they didn't care. Their little
baby was going to be ok.
And the nice young man who rescued their baby, they invited
him in to the recovery room to to see her. When Paul started
to cry seeing how lovely she looked Anne's parents felt even
more special toward him. How very nice that stranger cared
so much. They would have to invite him over for dinner.

Anne spent 3 days recovering in the hospital. No one thought
anything of the nice young man who had rescued her coming in
regularly to see her - it was an all too common situation.
And no one noticed that when he was alone with her, he would
finger fuck Anne to the brink of orgasm.
And Anne never resisted when Dr. Smith on his rounds would
let his hands stray from her tits to her pussy. She was a
whore and whore's didn't complain when men felt their
pussies.
And Anne saw her breasts. Her giant cow udders. They looked
obscene on her small petite body. The bra had never bothered
Anne because she knew it wasn't real. It wasn't a part of
her. But these were a part of her. And it did bother her to
see them. Anyone who looked at her could only think of one
thing, fucking her. And after making herself cum each night,
she would fall asleep crying over what she had become.
Then the day came to get up. Paul helped her get up and had
thoughtfully provided her with slippers that had a heel so
she could actually stand up. In her weakened state she would
not be able to walk flat-footed. Anne walked over to the
mirror and a stranger looked back at her.
Her face, it wasn't her face anymore. It wasn't that much
different but it wasn't her. Not the face she had slowly
seen grow up in the mirror the last 17 years. And she
suddenly realized, this was Paul's face. This was the face
Paul had selected for her. And he owned her face the same
way he owned her.
And her waist. God how did it get so small. Her tits looked
even more oversize on top of her small waist. That wasn't a
woman's body in the mirror, that was every man's wet dream.
Suddenly Anne had to go back to the bed. She laid down and
cried and cried for hours as she realized, Anne was gone.
She didn't know who that was in the mirror but little Anne,
a little 17 year old girl was gone. The body in the mirror
belonged to the grown up big titted whore Paul wanted. And
Anne was gone. And the little girl Anne trapped inside the
cow with the big udders cried and cried because she was gone
forever.
And Paul sat by her side in the hospital room and stroked
her hair and told her how beautiful her new whore body was
and how he loved his little fuck slut. And as he saw her cry
over the little Anne that was forever gone, he loved her
more and more.
And Anne realized that she truly was nothing more than a big-
titted whore, in body as well as in spirit now. That she did
deserve to have this body. Because all she was was a fuck
toy. All she wanted to be was Paul's slut cunt. And that she
now had her natural body.
And as she spent the next couple of weeks mostly
recuperating in bed, she played with herself time and time
again imagining all the things Paul would now have her do
with her new slut body. And she came time and time again to
those fantasies, never understanding why she cried after
each cum.

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 to.

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 salesgirls 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.
And 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 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 slut - I can't stop it - 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 "oh 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 "its ok 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 parents 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 amoung 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.
And as 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---
"OOOHHHHH GGGOOOOOODDDDDDDD" 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.

Chapter 11 - Birthday

Every day Anne went through the same routine. She would wake
up and use her vibrator to make herself cum. She then would
go in to the bathroom, remove her butt-plug, and shit and
pee.
Then, she would fill up the enema bag and give herself an
enema. At Paul's instructions she would hold the enema while
she soaped herself off, and rubbed herself to another
climax. Then finally she would let the enema out, lube up
the butt-plug, and re-insert it.
Aside from the morning in the bathroom the butt-plug was
always in Anne's ass. And over time, even as Paul had kept
giving Anne bigger and bigger butt-plugs, Anne had come to
feel as though it was normal to have the plug there. She was
actually uncomfortable when it was out.
And so, wherever Anne was, at breakfast with her family, at
school, with friends, when she was sitting down she was
always reminded of Paul by the extra pressure the butt-plug
brought on her ass.
And every night, as she went to sleep, she used her vibrator
again, getting herself off. Sometimes only once. But many
times 2, 3 , or more times. And while many times her
fantasies started off as something romantic, the visions of
men using her, dumping their loads of cum on her face,
whipping and beating her took over. And Anne found herself
climaxing to scenes of utter depravity in her mind. Because
her mind could only connect an orgasm with being used and
abused.

And then it happened. It was inevitable in hindsight. How
normal can a young girl act around her family and teachers
when part of the time she is a wanton slut. If sometimes the
normal position is to sit with your legs spread, pussy
exposed, playing with your clit - then its hard to remember
other times you are supposed to be prim and proper, showing
nothing, doing nothing.
While Anne's parents had become more and more worried about
how she was acting, Anne had managed to brush them off. But
when one of her teachers reported her to the school
counselor for masturbating during class, then the shit hit
the fan.
The school called Anne's parents who came in to talk.
Talking to each other it became obvious that Anne had
"problems." No one wanted to say sex. The actual specifics
never came up. But when Anne was called in the counselor and
Anne's parents had decided - they were going to work
together on Anne to straighten her out.
And Anne's parents laid part of the blame on Paul. They
should never have let her date someone so much older than
her. That just couldn't be allowed anymore. Anne needed to
concentrate on school, and then, once she had straightened
herself out, find a nice young man her own age.
And so, suddenly Paul was cut off from Anne. When school
ended Anne spent an hour talking to the school counselor.
And then she had to go straight home to her mother and do
her homework. She was only allowed to go out to school &
parent supervised parties.
And the counselor did a good job. Anne didn't tell her about
Paul - oh god she couldn't tell anyone about that. But the
counselor realized that Anne had almost no self-respect. And
so she slowly built that up. And she talked with Anne about
love and caring and respect. And Anne started to realize
what she was missing.
And without Paul there to reinforce his lessons, Anne
started to think about finding a boy who would love her, and
be kind to her and take care of her. And she found her
sexual fantasies started to have caring men, even as she
came.
And then one night, she didn't even play with herself. Anne
just dropped off to sleep thinking of the man who would
someday come sweep her off her feet. And a few days after
that, the butt-plug was put away. Anne didn't stop the
enema's because to her, that was part of being clean. But
the rest was put away.
And over a period of 2 months, the school counselor had
worked a minor miracle. In the place of a dirty little slut
with no self respect stood a young lady. Like any teenager
Anne was filled with worries and self-doubt. But they had
rescued the young girl who still lived inside her. And her
time with Paul was becoming a remote, bad dream.
Anne even discovered between the occasional battles that she
liked and appreciated her parents. All these things that had
disappeared in the haze of constant sex were returning. And
she liked it. She had a happy life again.
And the boys at school really liked her. She knew a lot of
it was because of her new body. Most of them couldn't keep
their eyes off of her giant tits. But they talked to her.
They were nice to her. They would do anything for her. And
she loved being treated that way.
And as her parents saw Anne return to normal, they started
letting her date again. And the boys who dated Anne were in
heaven. After what Anne had been through, giving a kind
desperate boy a quick blow-job or even a fuck was nothing.
And the boys all got to fuck this stunning girl, who would
spread her legs at the slightest chance.
And as Anne was living her dream, a problem started to
descend on her. They didn't turn her on. Yes she got a
little excited. But she never had an orgasm on a date. None
of the boys at school got her off. Now this was probably due
to the fact that they came so soon. But Anne didn't know
this. All she knew was that gentle lovemaking wasn't giving
her what she needed.
And so we have Anne, dissatisfied with her love life. Plenty
of sex but no turn-on. Not sure what she needed but knowing
that there was something better. And not sure how to get
there.
And meanwhile we have poor Paul. Desperate for Anne, his one
true love. The one woman who gave him everything he needed.
Unable to contact her because of her father. Trying to think
of some way to get her back.
And then Anne's mother brought them back together. Not
realizing what she was doing, Anne's mother sent Paul an
invitation to Anne's birthday party. Anne was turning 18 and
her parents were throwing a party for her at a local teen
dance club.

Anne was welcoming guests when Paul walked up. "Wh-what are
you doing here" she asked.
"I was invited - didn't you send me the invitation" he
replied.
"N-no, I didn't" Anne was getting a little flustered. She
wasn't really sure what she was feeling inside except
confused - really confused. Why oh why did Paul have to come
tonight.
"I brought you a present, don't you want to know what it is"
Paul asked.
"Sure - what is it."
"Well, I call it my favorite highlights. Its 2 hours of you
doing what you do best. I thought you would like to see it."
"Oh no Paul - no - no more. I won't do it anymore. I don't
care what you say. I'm not going to do it." Anne said
feeling very scared, but very determined too. She had been
rescued from the depths of depravity and she wasn't going to
go back down again.
"I'm not going to show it to anyone else - at least not if
you watch it one last time with me."
Anne felt elation when Paul said he wouldn't show it to
anyone, and then dread at the thought of watching it again.
She couldn't do that - she couldn't relive those times.
"Its very simple my love. We go watch it in the office back
there by ourselves right now - OR I put it up on that big
screen TV over there. You'll see it either way. But I think
your classmates would like it better."
Oh god no. She had her life back together. She couldn't let
everyone see what she was. She could watch it. The party was
going and she wouldn't be missed. This was supposed to be so
fun, turning 18 with everyone paying attention to her. It
was all ruined by Paul. But she would survive.
Anne turned and walked toward the office Paul had pointed
to. Paul followed with his tape. They went in locked the
door and Paul started the tape.
Oh my god thought Anne. That can't be me. I wouldn't dress
like that. All those people can see my tits through the
dress. OH GOD, they can see my pussy and my ass. I'm dressed
like a complete slut. No no, that's not me. Oh god, did I
really do that. I'm jacking strange men off on the dance
floor. Everyone in there can see what a slut I am.
Paul looked over at Anne as the tears started to flow down
her face. She was sitting there all stiff fighting what she
was seeing. Paul reached over and stroked her hair and Anne
jumped as though hit.
Oh god, he's here. He's touching my hair. And look at what
he made me do. Look at all those men jacking off on my face
covering me with their cum. He made me do that. That's not
me. I'm not a whore. Paul made me do it. Oh god, I'm playing
with myself as they do it. Oh no, I got off from being in
the center of a circle jerk. How could I have ever been so
disgusting.
"Is it too much for you" Paul asked. "Can't handle seeing
what a slut you were? That's you there in the middle. And
you loved every minute of it. Look at yourself cum. You
can't even see your face under all that cum and you're
jerking in continuous orgasm. God you are such a whore."
And Anne stared mesmerized. She couldn't have been turned on
by this. Oh god no. And then the screen showed Anne
masturbating while watching a TV. And then it turned to show
what was on the TV. While listening to herself cum Anne
watched skewers being pushed through another woman's
breasts. NO NO NO she couldn't be cuming while watching
that. It was so sick. That woman was in pain. And Anne was
cuming over her pain. No, there was something wrong here -
she never did that.
And then the camera was facing Anne as Anne talked to the
camera. "God I love that. That's one of my favorite films. I
love watching that girl scream as he pushes skewer after
skewer through her tits. Oh god its so hot when it pops out
the other side of her breast. It makes me cum."
And Anne saw herself on the screen getting off just
describing the scene. "Oh please let me watch the one where
they whip that blonde's butt and tits till they bleed. Oh
please Paul it gets me off so much. Look at me I'm cumming
just thinking about it. Oh please let me watch Paul."
And then Anne saw a new tape start and she saw herself turn
and frantically rub her clit while watching another woman
get whipped.
And Anne suddenly realized that she was breathing real hard.
Her blood was racing. And as she pushed her hand down toward
her stomach, her hand kept going until it was pushed against
her clit. NO NO she wasn't getting turned on by this. It was
disgusting. That person on the screen was a disgusting
little creature. That wasn't her.
And Anne pushed her hand against her clit harder trying to
stop the feelings boiling up through her blood. No no, stop
it she thought to herself. She had to stop it. "Stop it,
stop it right now Paul. I've seen enough."
Paul looked over. What was going on. Her face looked like
she was in utter agony. Every muscle in her body was
stretched. Her eyes looked like those of a wild animal. She
looked like she was about to run. He couldn't loose her.
This was his only chance to keep this beautiful creature he
loved so much.
And then Paul saw the fist against her clit, pushing as hard
as it could. "Rub that clit you slut. rub it and you can go.
Rub it now and you can go you little cunt."
And Anne grasped at a way out. Rub her clit and she could
go. He would let her out of here. She had to get out of
here. She started rubbing her clit like a madwoman. Oh god
yes, this would get her out. Rub her clit and she could get
out. Oh yes.
And up on the screen she saw herself dancing on a stage. All
around her men were looking at her as she spread he pussy
for them. Look at that cheap whore up on that stage. Look at
her show her cunt to anyone with a dollar bill. God she was
a cheap slut. Look at her get off on that.
And then the camera shifted to the parking lot outside as a
line of men worked its way to her. And as each man got in
front of her, she desperately reached for their cock and
sucked them off. And she was rubbing her clit so hard now as
she saw herself greedily drinking down cum shot after cum
shot. She was such a disgusting tramp.
"no no NO NO NO - THAT'S NOT ME" Anne shouted. "That's not
meeeee. Oh god nnoooo." And then she heard Paul whispering
in her ear "yes it is. You're a little whore. You're not
happy unless you have buckets of cum on your face and in
your stomach. I had to drag you away from there you slut."
And with that Anne broke into tears whimpering "no no no no.
oh god please no." as she started to cum. And then the
orgasm started to blast through her. Waves upon waves of
pleasure. Oh god, it felt so good. Oh yes it felt good. "Oh
yes yes YES" she shouted.
And as Anne saw Paul fucking her on the screen, telling her
what a dirty little fuck she was. How she was nothing but a
bitch dog in heat, she came and came and came. Oh god it
felt so good. She forgot how good it felt. OH GOD YES.
And Anne continued to cum for the next 20 minutes, with
climax after climax rolling through her body while she
watched the film. And as the film ended, Anne's climaxes
decreased in volume. Aftershocks still shooting through her
body as she laid there, totally limp.
"Bye Anne. I love you but I'm leaving you as you asked" Paul
said as he got up to go to the door.
"No wait" Anne gasped. "Why are you leaving?"
"You watched the film. That was the deal. I'm out of your
life now - isn't that what you wanted?"
"No - no, I - I - " and then Anne stopped, not knowing what
to say.
"I love you Anne. I can make you happy. But only if you want
me. And since you don't - bye."
As Anne saw Paul turning to leave she didn't have time to
think. But the aftershocks she was feeling now were more
than anything she had had with any of the boys in school.
She couldn't let that go (at least not right now in the
afterglow).
"Don't go Paul - I still love you too" Anne said.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes - yes I'm sure. Don't go."
"Fine, kiss my foot."
"What" Anne said shocked. He couldn't mean that.
"Right now cunt. Kneel down and kiss my foot or say good-
bye" and Paul turned to go again.
"Wait" Anne said moving toward him. Oh god, he was just
standing there watching her. She couldn't do this. And then
another aftershock hit her and her knees buckled a little.
Ok she could drop to her knees. There she was on her knees.
There's his shoe down there.
Oh god, he's starting to pull away. Anne held on to Paul's
leg and started to slide down his leg as she held on. There
it is. Just push my lips out and kiss. I can do it - what is
Paul saying? He's telling me that I'm his little sex slave.
That I'm his toy, his plaything. That he can do anything he
wants to me.
Oh god, why can't he just tell me that he loves me. Not
this. I don't want this. I'm not a whore. I'm not a slave.
I'm Anne. I want love and caring. "Oh please Paul" Anne
whimpered as she started to cry. Anne hung on to Paul's
ankle and sobbed.
"Kiss it whore. Kiss your master's shoe. Show me who owns
you. Show me that your body is a toy for me to use any way I
want. Kiss it now slut or I'm leaving you."
And Anne turned her face toward Paul's shoe and kissed it.
She held his ankle crying her heart out, and kissed his
shoe. She belonged to him. He loved her. He gave her what
she needed. She couldn't be happy with anyone else.
And she cried as she realized what she was. She was Paul's
slut, his sex toy, his slave. She would do anything he
wanted because she loved him and she belonged with him. And
she belonged to him. And Anne shuddered as she realized what
that last part meant.

Paul finally knelt down and bent Anne's tear streaked face
up so he could see her. "Who owns you slut" he asked.
"You do Paul."
"Damn straight. And to show it, I'm getting you some rings"
he said.
`Rings" Anne asked looking puzzled.
"Yes, rings. Rings for your tits, for your pussy, for your
clit. Just like those whores you like watching on the video.
I need something to show everyone that I own you. That
you're my property."
No thought Anne. No this is wrong. I need to leave him.
Every time I come to him he pushes me further into the
sewer. I won't do this. I won't. "No - not I was wrong" said
Anne. "I-I'm leaving."
"Oh really" asked Paul. "What about the tape. Should I show
it to everyone."
"I-if you do, I can't stop you. But no, no more" Anne said,
her resolution building.
"And what about the tape I just shot? That tape of you, the
new improved you, getting off on the other tape. And telling
me you're my slave. Do you think everyone will like that?"
Oh no NO NO thought Anne. The other was before. But this
showed that she was still a slut. Oh god, didn't it ever
end. Couldn't he just let go of her. "Please Paul, please
let me go. Please" she pleaded.
"I can't little pussy. I love you too much. I can't let you
go. I want you more than anything. Your my little whore. Now
lets go."
Anne stood up next to Paul resigned. She couldn't let her
new life get ruined. She would do what he wanted. And
somehow she would find a way out of it. Anne fixed her face
and then turned to follow Paul out the door.

The club was off a mall so they left the club and walked
into the mall. Part way down they found an earring store
that did piercing. They walked in and Paul found the
salesgirl. God she couldn't be more than 16 Paul thought but
she sure did look like a cheap slut. And she had rings in
just about every part of her anatomy.
"Whadda you want" she asked.
"My girlfriend here wants some parts of here pierced. Can
you do that" Paul asked, a little worried.
"Sure - where does she want it."
"How about her belly button and her tongue" Paul suggested.
Oh god thought Anne. She couldn't do this. This was too
scary. But Paul was holding her hand. Holding her in place.
She couldn't move against him. Maybe, maybe the girl
wouldn't do it. That's it, she would say its too weird.
"Sure - she'll look good with those" the sales girl said and
smiled. This will be fun she thought. "Sit you ass over
there slut" she said to Anne.
Paul was elated. This girl was having fun. There probably
wouldn't be any problem. Still, one step at a time. He
pulled Anne over to the chair and sat her down. Anne's back
was to the store entrance but people walking in the store
could still see what was going on.
The girl came up and said "unbutton your blouse, we'll get
the navel first." Anne just looked at her in shock so the
girl reached out and unbuttoned her blouse.
What is she doing thought Anne. She's unbuttoned all of
them. Oh my god she's pulling her entire blouse open.
Everyone can see her breasts in her bra. And Paul has her
arms so she can't move her hands up now.
Oh no, that man over there. He's looking at her breasts. And
those two kids - they're staring at her. Oh god, they can
all see her. They all think she's a slut. She has to do
something.
The salesgirl looked up and smiled. This was nice. Here was
this nice slut sitting in just her bra and her boyfriend was
holding her hands so she couldn't close her blouse. In fact,
maybe... "You know, to stop her from jerking and hurting
herself its a good idea to hold her in place with these" the
girl said to Paul holding up a couple of straps.
"I think you're right" said Paul. "We don't want anything to
happen to her."
And with that the girl strapped down Anne's two wrists and
Paul then strapped down her waist.
Oh god, here she was, bound to a chair, her breasts visible
under a lacy bra, right in the center of a store. Anyone in
the mall could walk in and she couldn't cover herself. They
would all see her. See Paul's little slut and her big tits.
What's the girl doing? She has something down by her
stomach. Its cold on her OH MY GOD THAT HURT. "Oh god, oh
god, oh god please stop" Anne whimpered. She couldn't yell.
But it hurt so much. "Oh please Paul, no more, no more" she
pleaded looking up at him with tears in her eyes.
"Tongue next" Paul said looking down at his little whore.
God he loved her like this. Helpless, in pain, and feeling
totally degraded. This was how she belonged. If only he
could keep her like this 24 hours a day. He was getting hard
just thinking about it.
The salesgirl was getting off too. This was too much. This
big titted cow hated this. God she would love to be able to
rub her clit right now. Maybe the next piercing would be
enough to get her off. If only the cow would scream.
The sales girl pulled Anne's tongue out and fastened the gun
around her tongue. "Don't jerk your tongue or it will tear"
she warned and pulled the trigger.
Anne couldn't take it. Crowd or no crowd all she could think
about was how much it hurt. She drew her breath in to scream
and then couldn't. Paul had his hand over her mouth. She
heaved in the chair but the buckles held her in place.
Somebody help her she thought. Oh god, anything was better
than this. Show the film to everyone - she didn't care. Just
stop the pain. Here comes that man. He'll help her. He can
see she is in pain. He sees the tears running down her
cheeks.
He's not helping. He's just looking at her and smiling. Oh
god, he's enjoying this. He's looking at her giant breasts.
He just wants to fuck me. Won't anyone help me. The hurts
starting to go away. Not a lot but its bearable. Oh just get
me out of here.
The salesgirl held up a mirror and asked "how do you like it
slut? I think it suits you."
Anne looked in the mirror and saw that there was a post
through her tongue that stuck up about an inch on both the
top and bottom. It seemed to fill her entire mouth. When she
closed her mouth she had to keep her tongue in the center.
Everyone would see this. This was awful. And it hurt so
much. Please Paul please lets get out of here now she
thought.
Paul turned to the salesgirl. "Can you do her breasts too?"
Oh this was awesome thought the salesgirl. Her panties were
going to be soaked shortly. Could she do some more to this
cow. Hell, she'd pierce anything he wanted