Maing of a Slut

Fran gets her first lesson Chapter 2

His cock spent, the fisherman slowly withdrew it, wiping the residue of sticky come along the cheeks of her buttocks. Without uttering a word, he zipped up his flies and sat on the rail of the boat and studied Fran. He surveyed her firm body, which was still shaking and twitching. He smiled to himself as he watched the trail of spent seamen trickling down the top of her legs.

Fran somehow managed to stand upright, her knees somewhat still shaky. The sweat dripped off her like someone had soaked her with a hosepipe. Her little summer dress, still around her chest, stuck to her skin like glue. She eventually managed to pull it down with a struggle and then sat on the wooden crate facing her attacker. She suddenly felt so embarrassed and naked as she faced the stranger.

“Enjoy it?” he remarked casually as if nothing had happened.

“It was rape you know,” hissed back Fran, trying to keep the tremor from her voice. “What you did, was nothing short of rape.”

The man laughed before replying, “Yes I suppose it was, but did you enjoy it?”

Fran bit her lip, in a quandary as to whether or not to admit the truth, that she had enjoyed it. She had enjoyed it immensely! The problem was she didn’t know this stranger, sure he had given her the best fucking that she had had for years, but should she admit it?

“Yes, I suppose I did,” she admitted reluctantly, “But it was still rape.”

The man laughed again before replying. “You’d have a hell of a job proving that in court.”

Fran shrugged her shoulders and bit her lip deeper. She knew that the man was right. Who would ever believe her anyway? As soon as it came out that she wasn’t wearing any panties, underneath an incredibly short dress and deliberately flashing a complete stranger, not to mention the climbing down the ladder onto his boat. She decided to change tact.

“Can I have a cigarette?” she asked sheepishly.

The fisherman reached into his pocket and removed a crumpled packet, offering one to Fran. “Tell me,” he said. “Do you do this sort of thing often? You know, the naughty, come and get me if you dare, routine?”

Now it was Fran’s turn to laugh. She had never heard it called that before. She inhaled the smoke from her cigarette before replying, “Would you believe me if I said that this was the first time?”

“Mmm, I see,” replied the man, “Your right, I don’t believe you. Besides it doesn’t really matter. What really matters is the fact that you did it, enjoyed it, and no doubt you’ll look forward to doing it again.”

Fran could feel a slight tingling from her groin; the man’s words were voicing her own thoughts. Whether he believed it or not, this was her first time. Well the first time that she had gone this far. Sure she had wondered out of the house before without panties, but always underneath more moderate clothing. What she had done today had come about through years of fantasy, and frustration.

“What do you do?” asked the man, suddenly breaking the silence. “Besides being a blatant exhibitionist and slut!”

“I’m not a Slut!” replied Fran; insulted that he could think such a thing. “Well ok I suppose I was…a little. If you must know I’m a Teacher.”

“Wasted…bloody wasted. You’d make a far better slut than a school teacher,” he joked. Then he suddenly became more serious, one could even say sinister. “And what do you think they would think of you at school, if they knew what you got up to?”

“Lets hope they don’t find out,” laughed Fran, now a little afraid of where the conversation was leading. “Anyhow I don’t think they would believe anyone, if they did decide to tell what I get up to.”

“No…but they’d believe this,” volunteered the fisherman, walking back to the small cabin and returning with the video camera. “Perhaps they may even enjoy it! Watching their prim and proper school marm getting bent over a barrel and fucked up the arse by a complete stranger. I think they’ll particularly enjoy the sight of you coming down the ladder showing all and sundry to the world.”

Fran suddenly felt sick. The pit of her stomach felt like lead. ‘Oh God what have I done’ she thought, trying to hold back the tears. “Look if it’s money you want.”

“I don’t want your money girl,” he replied, “I want you…all of you. I want to release you to the world.”

“How do you mean?” she stammered, fighting back the tears.

The fisherman offered her his handkerchief then replied. “ Look…I don’t even know your name…I don’t want to hurt you, quite the opposite. In fact I’m going to give you what you’ve only dreamt about, complete freedom. I’m going to make you the slut you’ve always wanted to be.”

Fran dried her eyes and listened to his demands. Her breath came in short sobs as he outlined his plan for her. Although afraid, the man had hit the nail right on the head. She had always resented her prim and proper upbringing. She was a twenty three year old, highly sexed girl with needs. Perhaps…No she was sure, this man could meet her needs admirably.

“So what do you say?” he enquired, after he had outlined his plan.

“ Lets get this right,” replied Fran. “I have to do whatever you command…no matter how shocking or distasteful it may seem, for one whole week, and then you’ll give me the tape?”

“That’s correct.” He replied.

Fran could feel her heart racing. She had already made her mind up the minute he had bent her double over the crate, that she wanted to be dominated by this man…to do his every bidding. The thought of being his sex slave for the week was what she had hoped.

“Ok,” she agreed at last. “When do we start?”

The man lit another cigarette and passed it to Fran. He then told her to come around to the pier entrance at six pm that evening, he would be waiting for her. She was to come alone, and bring along a night bag.

“Oh and one more thing,” he added, “Don’t overdress!”

Their business finished Fran stood up and moved towards the ladder. Her legs felt weak, and she was trembling slightly with anticipation. Gripping the rung with her hand, the tiny dress’s hemline crept up revealing her naked bottom. During their long conversation, she had completely forgotten that she was naked beneath the thin chiffon. She felt her love bud starting to swell once again, as the excitement of revealing herself to the man again took hold.

The fisherman had positioned himself at the foot of the ladder, and commanded her to climb it slowly. He could feel his cock growing inside his jeans, and had to control himself from grabbing her and screwing her again. Smiling he just watched as she stepped upwards, her slim legs opening slightly between each step and revealing her charms. “Till tonight then,” he waved as he watched her depart.

Fran half walked, half ran across the pier to the safety of her front door. The hem of her tiny dress, fluttered as she ran. Fran couldn’t have cared less; all she wanted was the sanctuary of her small apartment. Slamming the door, she flopped down onto the sofa and tried to take stock of what she had done. Never in her wildest dreams could she have anticipated the turn of events. This afternoon she had been a bit naughty, but tonight if everything went well, she would be positively wicked! The thought thrilled her.

She removed the dress, throwing it into the laundry basket and walked towards the bathroom. She glanced quickly at the clock on the dresser. She had two hours to prepare. Two hours in which her life would be changed forever. Fran could hardly wait.