Chapter 2 #2
“Are you sure? Why did you come to a drunken college party wearing a short, tight jean skirt and a see-through pale-pink blouse if you didn’t want a boy to fuck you?”
I keep shaking my head. “I don’t,” I manage to whisper.
He slides his finger along the edge of my skirt, the rough pad of his pointer grazing my thigh. “I bet this outfit isn’t even yours. It doesn’t suit you. No part of it does. I haven’t seen your panties yet. Those might be yours, but nothing else. Am I right?”
I sniffle and nod. How does he know that?
“Did one of those girls you came in with lend you this slutty outfit, princess?”
I nod again.
“Words, princess.”
I swallow. “Yes.” My whole body shudders. I’m scared out of my mind, yet he’s mesmerizing me with his voice. It makes no sense.
“You’re a good girl, aren’t you, princess?”
“Yes,” I murmur.
“You’ve never worn a skirt like this in your life, have you, pretty girl?”
“No.”
“Mmm. I figured. You’ve been tugging nervously on the hem since you left your house.”
My breath hitches. He’s been watching me since I left the house.
Does he know where I live? He must. I wonder if I would recognize him if I saw his face.
“Please, let me go. I won’t tell anyone about this.
Just let me go.” I’m still dangling several inches off the floor.
He’s still holding me with absolutely no exertion.
“Mmm. Not yet, princess. I’m enjoying getting to know you.”
I whimper again.
“Yesterday, when you moved into your rental house, you had on khaki shorts. They were far less slutty than this skirt.”
A soft moan escapes my lips. I’m not slutty. I’ve never been called slutty by anyone in my life. I’ve always been the good girl. I dress to blend in. Subdued in high school. Definitely not part of the in-crowd.
“Tell me about your panties, princess,” he says as if he’s asking me about a homework assignment.
I purse my lips. My face heats.
His finger comes back to my neck and down between my breasts. “This bra is lacy and dark pink, but it’s about a cup too big for you.”
Jesus. He knows so much about me. It’s unnerving.
“Have you ever owned a lace bra before, princess?”
“No,” I murmur. It seems like a good idea to humor him.
His lips come to my ear. “Does it feel good against your nipples?”
My nipples stiffen at the suggestion, making me shiver.
He slides a finger along the strap at my shoulder and gives a tug.
I gasp at the way the stupid bra abrades my swollen bud.
“Mmm. I think you liked that.”
Damn him.
“Do you want me to open your blouse, tug the lace cups down, and play with your ripe little nipples, princess?”
“No. Please…” I squirm against him. My body defies me, though. Some perverted part of me wishes he would do just that. Why is he asking me? He could just reach into my blouse and toy with my nipples without my consent.
“Then tell me about your panties. If you do a good job, I’ll let you go. If I think you’re lying, I’ll flip on the light, lift your skirt, and see for myself.”
Another sniffle escapes my nose. “Please…”
“I’ll have to blindfold you if you want me to turn on the light,” he warns.
“No, please.” I’m breathing heavily. “I’ll tell you.”
How is he so calm? It’s eerie. I can’t make sense of any of this.
“Wait, let me guess first. I bet they’re white cotton bikini briefs. I bet you brought a pack of six with you to college and pulled this pair out of the clear package this morning.”
My breath catches in my lungs. Has this man been stalking me? Has he been in my room?
He chuckles. “Am I right, princess?”
I don’t move.
“I swear it was just a guess, pretty girl. I haven’t been in your panty drawer…yet.”
Yet?
It seems like my heart is beating too heavily in my ears. Pulsing.
He brings his hand to the hem of my skirt again and starts to lift it.
I wiggle in his embrace, trying hard to free myself. “Please don’t.”
“Answer me, princess. Was I right about your panties?”
“Yes. Yes, you’re right. Please.”
“Good girl. See? That wasn’t hard, was it?”
I keep squirming.
He stops lifting the denim, but his fingers dance along my outer thigh, teasing my skin. “So soft,” he murmurs. “Do you shave your legs all the way up to your pussy, princess?”
I think I’m going to hyperventilate.
“What about your pussy? Do you shave that, too?”
Gripping my thighs together, I purse my lips. My face is so hot. It’s probably bright red.
He chuckles. “I’m embarrassing you. I bet no one has ever touched this pussy, have they, princess?”
I shake my head.
“What about you? Have you touched it? Do you rub your little clit at night until you orgasm?”
I’m going to die of humiliation.
His lips come closer to my ear again. “Do you masturbate, princess?”
“No,” I whisper almost too softly to hear myself.
“Because you’re such a good girl, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to be a good girl if I let you go?”
“Yes.” My voice is stronger. Is letting me go a possibility?
“Will you go straight home and get into bed?”
I nod. “Yes.”
“Are you going to wear this skirt again?”
“No.”
“Good girl. It doesn’t suit you, and I don’t want to see you trying to attract the wrong kind of attention again. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” I’m feeling hopeful. It’s like he’s going to let me off with a warning. Though this is madness. Who does he think he is?
“Do you own plain, white cotton bras in a size smaller, princess? I bet your bras are a B cup.”
“Yes.” I think my face is going to combust. I’ve never had a discussion like this with a living soul, let alone a stranger. And I’m furious that he’s making me feel something I can’t explain.
My stomach is in knots, and my pussy is swollen, achy. I think wetness is leaking out of me as if I’ve peed myself. But that didn’t happen.
“Good. I don’t want to see you dressed slutty again, understood?”
“Yes.” At this point, I’ll agree to anything.
“Wear your own clothes. The ones you brought to college. I’ll be watching you. I don’t want to see any of your bra straps.”
I swallow. “Okay.”
“Are you going to tell anyone about our little chat, princess?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
I’m panting, partly from fear, partly from irrational arousal. What kind of a question is that? “Uh… Because I don’t have any idea who you are or what you look like, and no one would believe me.”
Another deep chuckle vibrates against my neck. “Oh, princess, they would believe you, but you’re right. They wouldn’t know who I am. It’s best we keep this encounter between you and me, don’t you think?”
“Yes.” This man knows where I live. He’s been watching me. There’s no telling what he would do if I went to the campus police. Maybe he would be angered, break into my house in the night, and…
“Good girl. I’m going to set you down. Find your housemates and go home.”
I nod. “I will.”
He grips me slightly tighter, nuzzles my neck, and groans. “Damn, you smell good.”
A second later, he bends just enough to set me on my feet. His arm is still wrapped around me. “Are you going to be my good girl?”
“Yes.”
“I’m going to turn you around. I want you to face the back of the pantry. Stay in here for one minute, and then come out and go home.”
I nod. “Okay.”
He spins me to face away from the door. The moment he releases his grip, I feel an odd sense of loss. I nearly stumble forward. My lungs finally expand fully.
Before I can get my balance, the door opens and closes at my back. It happens so fast, I doubt if I could catch up with him even if I spun around this very second and yanked the door open.
It doesn’t matter. There’s no way I’m going to disobey him. I wouldn’t dare.