Naughty Girl Ch. 03

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Bernice is ensnared.
5.8k words
4.48
43.2k
16

Part 3 of the 9 part series

Updated 08/29/2017
Created 05/18/2012
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Chapter 03

Bernice is ensnared

While bent over the sink in a cheap burger bar, a young guy had taken advantage of her. So worked up from what happened with a gang of boys in the forest, she had given in. While she recovered from the orgasm, he wiped his mess from between her legs with an old dish cloth. She had been used, and put in her place as his stupid young waitress.

As humiliating as it was, Bernice had to ask the young guy for cab fare. It would be impossible walking home dressed like a slut. Besides, anything could happen on a long walk in the dark, as she had already found out this afternoon.

"You promised!" Bernice retaliated.

"When you've finished the shift. That was the arrangement with Harry, to pay for the burgers and drinks. Unless you want paying for the fuck," Joe smirked.

How could she agree to that! It would downgrade her from a dirty slut to a whore. It was difficult to think of herself as a responsible business woman, after letting him take her and the way she had behaved.

She dare not think about her husband either, or she might crumple on the floor in a sobbing heap. She had to find some way to get through this. She would have to carry on pretending to be Barbara, the gullible young slut.

Walking from behind the counter to serve customers, she could feel the fraying cotton of the cut off jeans, digging at her crotch. There had been little enough holding them in place, and with every step it seemed they were parting.

The steam from the washing up, together with sweat, plastered the little top to her breasts. It was all the more imperative to switch off from what she was, to escape the indignity. As Barbara the slut, it was just possible to carry on.

"I'll have another strawberry shake," a guy said. He was ogling her body, while the girlfriend looked daggers at her. The anger turned to a derisory sneer.

Bernice wanted to run and hide, though as Barbara it was possible to withstand the embarrassment. She waggled her hips from side to side, as she wrote down the order. In retaliation to the girlfriends look of rudeness, she smiled at the boy.

They were only eighteen, so they should have given her the respect a mature woman deserved. With a baby faced complexion and her hair tied in pig-tails, they thought she was a teenager. Dressed like a slut, she received an admiring look from the boy, and a look of disdain from his girlfriend.

Returning to the counter she wiggled her ass, feeling the cheeks bulging out of the tight jeans. Annoying the girlfriend was her only chance to get back at everyone who pushed her into this degrading situation.

Fetching a shake, she carefully placed it on the table with exaggerated care. Leaning over the boyfriend showed off a deep cleavage, with the darkness of her nipples on display.

"I like the wet t-shirt idea," the boy broadly smiled. His girlfriend dug him sharply in the ribs.

"I was only being friendly!" he complained.

"Don't encourage the slut," she crossly told him. "You, leave him alone, slut," she warned. The sound of her voice was a feral growl.

Somewhat satisfied from having wound-up the girlfriend, Bernice wiggled her way to another table.

"What time do you close?" Paul asked.

Looking over her shoulder, she sighed with relief. "Fifteen minutes," Bernice replied.

"I'll just have a coffee," he said, with a deep penetrating voice.

Only then looking at the man, she realised who it was. He was the consultant hired to advise her on raising capital, for a business expansion. He had witnessed that nasty session behind the counter, with the greasy haired boy. He had watched her orgasm!

At least he didn't know who she was. On Monday she would wear plenty of make-up, and dress in an expensive business suit. She just hoped he wouldn't remember her being here. She imagined him in the conference room, trying to figure out where he had seen her before. She almost broke down in a fit of nervous giggles.

This time walking back to the counter she couldn't sway her hips, for it seemed so rude in front of him.

The crotch of the tight shorts was cutting her in two. The frayed cotton at the crotch was down to a few threads, and was perilously close to parting. From the moment she pulled them on, her cheeks crudely bulged from them. During the short time she wore them, her lips were becoming more prominent. She just hoped it would hold together until the burger bar closed.

At last it was time to close up for the evening. She watched a couple of the guys leave a generous tip, only for the girlfriends to snatch the notes from the table. They gave her a farewell sneer, while the boyfriends looked longingly at her, before being dragged out the door.

"That's it. You can turn the closed sign on your way out," Joe offhandedly told her.

"What about the taxi fare?" Bernice asked, in dismay.

"You earned the bill for the gangs burgers and drinks. That's it, unless you want to whore for it," Joe taunted her. "I'm about ready for a blow job," he leered.

She was about to ask how she was going to get home dressed like a slut. To him she was just that, a dirty slut, so what was the problem. Unable to bring herself to answer him, she strode to the door purposely not switching the sign to closed, and left. It was a pathetic protest, yet all she could think of. After all, the whole afternoon and evening she left acting pathetically.

She should have taken control of the situation from that first moment, when being dragged off into the forest by those boys. It had all happened so quickly. At the time all she could think of was avoiding a scene. The last thing she wanted was to be discovered dressed as a schoolgirl. It had been a daring adventure with her husband, which rapidly degenerated into a disaster.

Standing outside in the gloom, she wondered what to do. Hearing the locks clicking shut meant she couldn't go back in to plead for the fare. He wanted a blow job, and there was no chance of that! The lights flickered off, leaving her in the dark. There were no other stores, just that one cafe on the edge of the park.

It was either walk out the nearest exit, with a long walk home, or a short cut through the forest to the entrance she used earlier. She wished she had taken notice of the paths the gang had dragged her along.

A crackle of branches put her on high alert. Being attacked by a wild animal would end the worst of days ever experienced.

"Hey! Babs!" Harry called.

Although he started the dreadful events, she was relieved to hear his voice. He had meant well. He thought he was saving her from an old letch in the park, not knowing she was just playing a game with her husband.

"Hi Harry," she said, sounding full of relief. "I need my clothes, will you take me back to the tree house?" she asked, with a plaintive note to her voice.

"Sure! It's not far, but be careful in the dark, stick close to me," he encouraged.

Again he had that nice caring note in his voice. It won her around when they first met. At least now she had lost the heat of arousal, which earlier loosened her morals to a frightening degree. It was shocking to know how badly she behaved when hot. Now she knew, she was at least fore-warned. A defence would have to be worked out, against becoming so vulnerable. Her husband had teased her about it, only she thought he was joking.

Harry held her hand, to guide her along a narrow track. She stumbled in the dark, eventually making it to the familiar clearing. Looking up at the tree house, she remembered her wayward behaviour, and cringed. No wonder he treated her like a stupid slut.

Despite the rangers warning they had lit a fire. The glow threw wavering shadows of the boys sitting around a camp fire onto the trees. They were only adolescents, yet from their treatment of her earlier, she knew to be careful.

"I need my school uniform, could you get it for me?" she asked, trying to sound reasonable, yet firm.

"Why don't you come up with me," Harry playfully suggested.

"No. I'll wait here," Bernice said. There was no way she could possibly go through that again.

"Please yourself," Harry shrugged, and climbed the rope ladder.

He threw down the skirt and the top, which one of them caught. At least she could go back home dressed as she had left the house. It would be easier to explain to her husband why she had been so long. Of course, it would have taken some time to find her way out of the park, and he should be happy to see her at last.

Turning up dressed in the shorts and top would take some explaining. Especially when she was flaunting her body so crudely. She would have to be careful not to reveal she had lost her panties. Recounting what happened this afternoon certainly couldn't include everything.

"We need those clothes back," Jimmy leered at her, while holding onto the uniform.

She glowered at him, with hands on hips. It was certainly true, she could cope with this now she wasn't all fired up. The sound of the crackling wood broke the expectant silence while she stared him out.

"No! I paid for your burgers and drinks by working in that stinking burger bar. You owe me these trashy clothes. I'm not striping off in front of you lot," she angrily flung back at him.

The hush was broken by laughter. They were laughing at both of them. Their eyes were still on her. She could see the glow of excitement in their eyes, though their faces were in shadow. The light from the flames flickered, reflecting off her soft flesh. There was too much of it showing while in the company of a bunch of wild boys.

"Just a friendly kiss, and you can have the clothes," Jimmy suggested.

"Harry, I need to go," she said, as he landed at the foot of the ladder.

"That sounds like a fair deal. I'll have the kiss though," he defiantly told Jimmy.

After sucking his cock earlier in the tree house, a kiss didn't sound so bad. In comparison it sounded perfectly respectable.

"OK. Then you'll show me the way back to the gate!" she firmly stated.

"Deal," he smiled at her.

Although his face was in shadow she could tell he meant it. He wrapped his arms around her, to the approving sounds of his friends. The words weren't vulgar, they were encouraging.

He didn't just dive in for a smooch. He looked into her flame lit face. He smiled, while gently pulling her close. He kissed her forehead, a cheek, her nose, then sucked her upper lip between his, to nibble on it. In the firelight it was a romantic moment.

She was sweaty and smelly from the cafe, and had been a dreadful slut, leaving her feeling inadequate. She was undeserving of such gentle consideration. All the doubts of adolescence came flooding back, to leave her feeling nervous. He was a handsome young guy, leaving her feeling young and attractive.

When his tongue touched hers an electric shock of passion gripped her, as tight as his arms. His hands cupped her cheeks. It felt natural for him to take advantage, as she was lewdly flaunting her body. She was Barbara, the young slut he had saved. She felt so hot, her passion was deepening.

Warning bells were peeling, yet she couldn't help kissing, sucking, and twining her tongue with his. The duel went on, seemingly endlessly. She didn't hear the bawdy encouragement from his friends. His hands were exploring her body, with very little clothing protecting it. Her world had closed in to the small sensitive point of their teasing tongues.

Her body was on fire, as hot as the crackling wood. Her nerve cracked, and her mind sparked with passion. She was past the point of no return. Her legs felt weak, giving way as he lowered her to her knees.

She didn't want to see his cock, she wanted a romantic cuddle in front of the fire. She looked up at him with pleading eyes, trying to tell him not to spoil the moment. Instead, he eased his cock into her mouth.

Sinking into the role of Barbara the slut wasn't an option. She had to keep him happy or she would never find her way out of there. She knew it was an excuse. As bad as it was, her body was desperate and couldn't be refused. She needed satisfaction from a deep lustful craving. Instead of offering up her sex, she would have to make do with on with this.

As much as she wanted a cock between her legs, her head bobbed enthusiastically. It was taking too long. She was cooling down, beginning to recover her wits. Too late, she couldn't stop now. At last he spilled his load into her mouth. She spat it on the ground, with a grimace of disgust dribbling across her face.

The shame left her too weak to stand. She remained kneeling where he left her. Yet again he dismissed her, by turning his back after making use of her. She wondered if it was her, or had he some problem with what she had done. He had been so caring before. It left her feeling like a worthless slut, not worthy of his attention.

When another of the gang stepped in front of her, their voices came into focus. They were drawing lots to see who would be next. This boy had won her mouth, and a second was already lining up to take her! They were going to make use of her body, and keep her as a gang slut!

She was so empty of emotion, feeling so pathetic, she said nothing. It was impossible to defend her pride, for it had burnt away leaving an acrid taste of ashes. There was nothing left of her self-worth, as it had gone up in smoke. She knelt on the ground, prepared to endure the ordeal.

She heard them discussing her, saying that a slut like her wouldn't be able to grip tight with her pussy. Another of the gang suggested using her asshole. It was bound to be tight enough.

Their coarse remarks left her beaten into submission. She couldn't cry, or complain. They were wild adolescents and she had proven how debased she was. She opened her mouth ready to suck on the cock nudging her face. In dismay she realised how wrong she had been. A deep arousal still griped her body and thoughts, leaving her helpless to resist.

"Hey! What's going on! Stop that right now!" a man fiercely shouted.

He strode into the clearing. Up close he seemed to tower over her. She couldn't see who it was, and didn't want to. He grabbed an arm, forcing her up off the ground onto shaking legs. Seeing her school uniform on the ground he scooped it up, and dragged her away.

The gang slunk back, thinking the stranger must be her father.

A torch lit the path, only she saw nothing through tear filled eyes. The shame of being found like that numbed her mind.

Trotting along, keeping up with his long strides, meant it didn't take as long returning to the cafe parking lot. Again she was led by the hand, making her feel like a naughty little girl. He didn't ask, he just opened the car door expecting her to get in. Once in she felt weak and numb, as though from running a marathon.

She dare not look at him, but recognised the voice.

Paul drove off, watching her out of the corner of his eye. She looked shamefaced with head down, looking as though about to shrink to nothing.

Bernice squirmed in the seat, wondering what frightful situation she was in now. At least he had saved her from herself. She couldn't blame the boys. She had been up for it, so they were just helping themselves to a willing victim.

Feeling the cotton finally give way, she sat perfectly still. The only thing covering her pussy was a flap of denim! Getting into the car had pulled the crotch until just a strand kept it together. Now that had given up the fight to hold her swollen lips in place.

There was no mistaking her state of arousal. That it was from the prospect of becoming a gang whore was unforgivable. Playing at being Barbara the slut, couldn't be blamed. It was her mouth that had been splashed with a strangers cum. It was her, preparing to take on that rough gang of adolescents.

"Home? Where to?" Paul asked.

"No! I can't go home like this," she whined. She trembled in anguish at the thought of her husband seeing her like this. A hotel was out of the question, even if she had the money.

"Your parents will be worried about you," Paul stated.

After awhile she answered. "They're away," she lied.

"I had better make sure you don't get into trouble, AGAIN!" he emphasised.

Sitting there with her pussy bare and everything else on show, she felt disgusted with herself. Her knees were caked in dirt and probably the rest of her bare flesh was filthy too. She felt as though she was just a dirty little schoolgirl, being told off by an adult.

Being caught having sex with an adolescent for a second time by this man, was too much to bear. She felt broken, and irreparable.

"Sorry. I'm so sorry, sir," she whispered.

"You had better spend the night at my apartment, until your parents get home," he told her. "You can't be trusted to be left alone," he added.

He knew she was lying to him. From the start he hadn't intended to take her home. He figured she would be afraid of going home, and not because of trouble from parents. They said nothing more on the journey.

***

"Stand there and don't move," he ordered.

He settled into his favourite armchair. He let her stand before him while he studied the dishevelled woman.

Every part of her body had smears of dirt over it, especially her knees. Tracks from tears ran down her face, through the dust and wood smoke. She smelt of sweat, stale burgers, and burnt wood. Her hair was a mess, and what little she was wearing was falling off.

She looked like a tomboy after playing in the woods all day.

"You've sperm on your face. Don't touch it, or you'll spill it on the carpet. You'll wash in a moment," he told her.

The bachelor pad was clean and minimalistic, though richly decorated. She recognised some of the artists paintings on the walls, and an elegant bronze of a naked woman. They were expensive pieces of art. He was obviously unmarried, to be able to indulge such a hobby.

She kept her head down, trying to hide her face in long hair. After this she wouldn't dare meet him on Monday. Some excuse would have to be thought of, to cancel his consulting services.

At the moment she was standing before him like a naughty little girl. The feeling was overpowering, and he was making it all the more difficult. She felt he was justified, after what would have happened if he hadn't saved her.

When he pointed out there was cum on her face, she nearly collapsed with shame. She dare not reveal who she was, so the persona of Barbara the slut would have to be endured for awhile longer.

Surely he wasn't going to take advantage of her. Did it matter, after all that had been endured already.

"The school uniform will have to be washed. Like you its caked in dirt," he said.

She looked around for it.

"It's in the laundry room. I'll get you something more suitable to wear. You can't go home like that. What would your parents say?" he asked.

"Don't know," she whispered.

"Don't know? I imagine they would be shocked. You've been running around without panties. Those shorts are tight enough to reveal almost everything, and what they should be covering is on public view," he scolded her.

He had to suppress a laugh from the way she squirmed like a schoolgirl before the principal.

"As for your despicable behaviour with those boys, I'm shocked. Your parents should throw you out of the house. Are you ashamed of yourself?" he asked.

"Yes, sir, sorry sir," she whimpered.

She wanted to plead with him not to tell her parents, despite them having passed away several years ago. Besides, it would be just as bad if he took her home to face her husband. She sank further into the role of Barbara, the bad slut.

"You're a filthy little girl, and I don't want you polluting my apartment. You had better get showered and freshened up. I'll get some clothes for you. My cousin sometimes stays over, so maybe she's left something that will fit. I can't say you deserve decent clothes, after what I witnessed of your disgusting behaviour," Paul said, laying it on heavily.

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