Chapter 26: Anne

Anne was a girl that I knew only slightly. We were more acquaintances than friends. After September, however, she started to say hi to me a little more, and she seemed to always be looking at me.

Anne was a cute girl, but she didn't work at it. She had blondish/brown hair, and with a little work could have made herself look real pretty, but she never wore makeup. The way that she dressed made her look mousy and she was almost pathologically shy. That was why I was surprised when, on a number of occasions she attempted to strike up a conversation. I probably would have talked to her under any circumstances, but I really had lost many of the friends that I used to hang out with, so I was willing to take just about anyone that would accept me.

Our first conversations were fairly innocuous, but towards the end of the fall, she finally sprung the conversation that she had clearly been working herself up to have.

"How does it feel, being that way?" she asked me one day when we were alone.

"What way?" I asked.

"You know..." she said.

"Oh, you mean a slut?" I asked with a smile. I assumed this conversation would come up. Most of my friends had asked me at one time why I had become such a slut.

"No, I mean, how does it feel to be Jeff's slave?" she asked.

I was shocked. First of all, while I listened to everything that he said, I wasn't sure that I considered myself to be his slave. Second, while Jeff was involved in a lot of my humiliation, most of it was done remotely, where he would tell me in advance what to do, but I would do it myself. For the most part in school, we still acted like friends. If I ever walked into school wearing a collar and leash and being led around, I was pretty sure he would have someone else do it.

So the fact that Anne had decided that I was a slave, and that I was Jeff's slave, meant that she had been paying far better attention than anyone else.

"What makes you say that I am Jeff's slave?" I asked.

"I've seen the marks on you when you shower," she explained. "They are mostly faded, but I can tell by the bruises and marks that you are being whipped and beaten. Your attitude and demeanor tells me that you don't object to them, so I don't think that you are doing this against your will.

"And I've seen the way that you look at Jeff, and more importantly, I've seen the way that Jeff watches over you. It's like he is always watching out, making sure that nothing too bad happens. Anytime that you do something really outrageous, he is somewhere nearby, as if he's ready to jump in if there is a problem."

"Really?" I asked. Anne nodded, and I thought about what she had said. It was true. Jeff was always watching out for me. He accepted the role that I thrust upon him, and he took his job seriously. It made me want to go find him right now and give him a really big kiss, and probably a blowjob too.

"So what is it like?" Anne prompted.

"Why do you want to know?" I countered.

Anne just looked down and muttered something about being curious.

"Oh, no you don't," I said. "If I am going to share my deepest sexual secrets, you're going to have to do better than that. You did not ask out of simple curiosity!"

Anne mumbled something, but I couldn't hear what she said.

"What was that?" I asked.

"I want to be a slave," she said in a low voice.

"Really?" I asked, surprised.

"Yes," she said, looking at me right in the eye for the first time since she asked the question. "I want to belong to someone. I want to belong to someone who will whip me and beat me like Jeff does to you. I want to know what it feels like to be completely under someone's control, to be unable to protest as they hurt you. Please tell me what it is like!"

I sat back and thought about that for a minute, and then I started talking to her. It turned out that she was a complete virgin. She had never been with anyone, man or woman, but she was an avid reader, and her favorite genre was BDSM. She dreamed of being kidnapped and raped, being a harem girl, being a slave. She did not enjoy the humiliation that I did, but she wanted the pain, the bondage, the servitude.

I thought about her, and I compared her to me. Her home life was not anything like mine. She had very strict parents who seemed to want to keep her a baby forever. They did not let her do all the things that a teenager wanted. I thought about how I was feeling before I asked Jeff for the Favor, and I realized that when Anne went away to college, she might end up even worse than I was afraid I would.

We talked some more, and the conversations seemed to help her. She was the first person other than my mother to whom I told the whole story of the Favor. I explained why I asked for the Favor, and what Jeff was doing. She was so envious.

One day I asked her, "Do you want to come to my house after school, and maybe I can show you some of my stuff?"

"I couldn't today," she said. "My parents expect me home."

"What if I have my mother call and tell her that we need to study together for a project?" I asked. "She could explain that it is just me and her that live there, and that you can stay for dinner. Do you think that they'd let you do that?"

"I can ask," she said excitedly. I gave her a hug and we went on our way.

That night she called and said that her parents had agreed, but they wanted to make sure that it was OK with my mom. I told Mom that I wanted Anne to come over, but that her parents were really strict. I decided that at this point, I would not violate Anne's confidence and tell her about Anne.

The next day at school, I didn't see Anne too much, but when I did see her she seemed to be bubbling with excitement. I had told Jeff that I would be unavailable after school, and he was OK with that. After school, we walked to my house, and Anne could barely contain her excitement.

We walked into the house, and as soon as we closed the door I began removing my clothes.

"What are you doing?" Anne asked.

"No women may wear clothes in this house of slavery," I said. OK, so I was exaggerating a little bit. Call it poetic license. However Anne was a lot like me, only more unsure of herself, and I knew that someone saying that to me would get my engine going.

Anne looked around nervously. "But what about your mother?" she asked.

"No women may wear clothes in this house of slavery," I repeated.

By this point I was completely naked, and I just stood there looking at her. She looked me up and down and asked, "Me too?"

"No women may wear clothes in this house of slavery," I intoned.

She gulped mightily, and then she started unbuttoning her shirt. As I have mentioned, her clothes were not stylish. They looked like Sears standard, and they did little to flatter her. She removed the shirt, and I was surprised. Beneath the baggy shirt that she wore were a set of truly impressive tits, encased in a truly utilitarian white bra. She unfastened her baggy jeans, and pushed them off, so that she was standing in her large white bra, large white panties and white sweat socks.