Angela was considering Jodie with some annoyance. She might be a reasonable babysitter but she was also a first class pain in the neck. She acted as though she was the bee's knees. She was better than everyone else. Smugly arrogant and totally sure of herself.
The arrogance and the being sure of herself Angela could have tolerated. After all, the girl was still young. Not even twenty, yet. It was the subtle put-downs that got to Angela. Her parenting was wrong. Her dress sense was wrong. Her makeup was wrong. Not that Jodie blatantly said so. She just let it be known by inference and, also by inference, how much better Jodie was at all these things.
She even had the gall to put down Harry, Angela's husband, hinting that it was a case of bad luck but that's the best Angela could hope to do. Jodie, of course, intended to marry into the rich and famous. Not that she was aiming high but she gave the impression that Leonardo DiCaprio would have to queue up to get her number.
Angela was quite relieved when they were able to depart, leaving the kids to Jodie's tender mercies. Fortunately, Jodie believed in early bedtimes for small children and could be counted on to get them down in good time.
Angela and Harry went on their merry way. They enjoyed the show and then stopped at the local for a couple of drinks on the way home. Harry was driving and only has a single beer but Angela felt entitled to have a couple of glasses of wine. Subsequently she was willing to admit that maybe she should have skipped that third glass.
They got home and found that Jodie had coffee almost ready. Angela had to admit that the girl was nearly as good as she thought she was, always efficiently organised. The three of them sat and had their coffee while Angela and Harry discussed the film. Jodie, naturally, had her own opinion. Not that she'd seen it, but she had read the official reviews.
Jodie subtly put down the comments Angela made about the film, implying well, yes, you would think that because you don't know any better. Angela fumed quietly and pointed out that Harry had also enjoyed the film.
"Yes, well he would, wouldn't he," said Jodie. The implication that Harry was too dumb to know better came through loud and clear, and that third glass of wine spoke for Angela.
"Harry, dear, be a sweetheart for me," Angela cooed sweetly. "Would you be so kind as to pull down Jodie's panties and fuck her so hard her ass falls off."
There was a startled silence from both Jodie and Harry. Jodie found her voice first.
"Are you mad? You can't rape me," she said with great indignation.
Now Harry was a little confused. He could understand Jodie being indignant about the threat but a little puzzled as to how she phrased her protest. If she had put an emphasis on any of the last three words she would have been demonstrating her objection to being raped. She'd put an emphasis on the first word, you, indicating that Harry was the source of her indignation.
"Ah, and why can't I rape you?" he asked, curious as to her reasoning.
"You're a nobody," pointed out Jodie.
"Excuse me?" Now he was offended.
"Well, look at me. I'm gorgeous, even dressed in this tracksuit. I was the Prom Queen and my boyfriend was the Prom King and captain of the football team. Men follow me around and I can have my choice of them. You're a nothing. Just a husband."
"I see. So if you're going to be raped, who should be doing it?"
"Well, obviously someone who is someone. You know, someone like the quarterback, not that he did, of course. Or maybe one of the teachers, as long as it was one of the popular teachers. Someone like you? No thanks."
"So it's not the rape you object to but just who does it?"
"I didn't say that but if I have to be raped I'd expect it to be with a bit of class. One must have standards, you know."
The look Jodie gave Harry indicated that he totally failed to meet her standards for a potential rapist.
"I see. Have you ever been raped?"
"Of course not." Jodie seemed indignant at the very suggestion.
"So you're saying you're still a virgin?"
Jodie actually laughed at that.
"I said my boyfriend was the Prom King and the football captain. What do you think?"
"I'll take that as a no," said Harry.
"I see why you think it would be a good idea to have me fuck her but do I dare? I'm just a nobody," Harry said, turning to address Angela.
Angela glanced at where Jodie was nodding in approval at Harry's reluctance. She smiled.
"I think you should dare," she said. "After all, you're my nobody and that counts for a great deal."
Nodding in agreement Harry rose from the table and moved towards a suddenly nervous Jodie.
"Hold on," she protested. "I don't want to get raped."
"I sort of think that that is a given," Harry said. Taking her arm he coaxed her to her feet.
"Do you know the correct protocol for being raped?" he asked her.
"What?"
"The way to behave. Police give out these little pamphlets. They advise you not to scream or struggle but just to go along with what the rapist wants. They say it's better that way. I think they're insane but who am I to argue?"
Jodie's tracksuit trousers were done up by a simple tie. A firm pull on the bow and they were no longer done up. Another firm pull, this time on the trousers, resulted in them sliding down, Jodie feebly protesting all the while.
Her protests went up a notch when she found her panties following her trousers but she didn't actually scream. It seemed she had a new favourite word. "But, but, but," she stammered, fresh indignation rolling through her. This was so wrong.
