Chapter 2

Bouncing up and down in her seat with the bumps in the road and her hair blowing fiercely in the wind, Molly was racing along in her brand new hot pink Jeep at the speed limit, but her mind was racing at the speed of light ... just as it had since the very first moment she had met Jason.

After returning home on Thursday she had reluctantly complied with his demand that she always be naked from the waist down. She had hated it and she had hated it even worse when, for the first time ever, she'd had to suck her Frankie's dick and swallow his spunk, but she was grateful that at least it hadn't taken long and she was quickly able get back to her own thoughts.

"I'm going to make him pay ... big time," Molly swore to herself, but she knew she had no legal leverage. It would just be her word against his and he had all the evidence to prove her a liar. She would simply lose everything.

There was also something else that Molly realized was keeping her from doing anything rash ... Jason. She was scared to death of him, but at the same time, she was fascinated by him.

It was Jason, after all, who had given her the experience of a lifetime, he had given her an orgasm, bunches of them, more even than she could count, and she realized she really liked orgasms. She hated Jason, but she loved sex, more than she had ever thought possible.

She almost cringed every time she thought about how enthusiastic she had become that second day, eagerly lifting her legs and guiding his dick into her pussy and then howling her head off as he fucked hell out of her. She also hated the fact that she couldn't keep from grunting and groaning in a most un-ladylike manner, but that's the way it was.

Even when he would purposely back off and fuck her ever so slowly, she couldn't help but continue moaning and groaning and grunting and crying out and kicking her legs about with every stroke or push or grind.

She couldn't get enough and Jason had made her dance on the end of his dick like a shameless slut. Over and over he had made her howl ... time after time and hour after hour until she could barely move.

So there it was. She hated Jason, she hated sucking his dick and she was deathly afraid of him, but there was also something else about him, even apart from the sex ... she also liked him.

He was fun to be with and worst of all, she couldn't shake the fact that, more than anyone she had ever met ... he made her feel good about herself. He listened to her. He was interested in her and she found it intoxicating.

"Oh! Honey! You've never been naked in front of people have you!" the cheerful and flamboyantly gay Jean Paul exclaimed after he had escorted Molly to a dressing room and casually shown her where to put her clothes, only to be confronted by her sudden tears.

"No," whimpered Molly, as she wiped the tears from her cheeks with one hand.

"Well, I can tell you're a fine lady," he kindly assured her, "You'll do fine."

"Ladies don't go naked in public," countered Molly, despairing almost to panic.

"Oh, my, Honey! Who told you that! Of course they do!" laughed Jean Paul, giving her a little reassuring hug, "Come on now, let's have a look at you."

Reluctantly complying with his wishes, Molly finally stood in front of him, carefully covering herself with her hands for a long moment until Jean Paul's warm and assuring smile prompted her to drop her arms to her sides and reveal herself for his appraisal.

"Oh! Molly! My word, girl!" declared Jean Paul, using her name for the first time, "Aren't you just the cutest thing! I swear!"

"I don't have any hair," Molly softly cringed, "and my pussy is too big."

"Oh! Honey!" With a big laugh," What you have deserves to be seen! Trust me, Molly! You are lovely, perfectly lovely! And that pussy of yours is just about the most beautiful pussy I've ever seen! Trust me, if I had a pussy, and I certainly wish I did, I would want it to be just like yours."

Not saying anything or knowing what to do, but somehow comforted by Jean Paul's assurances and the humor inherent in his attitude, Molly didn't have any more time to think about it before Jean Paul sprang into action.

"Come on now, come with me," he instructed, placing his hands on Molly's shoulders and urging her toward the door, "There's something I want to show you."

"Are there people out there?" asked Molly, fearfully.

"Yes, of course, but they're all busy and they've seen it all before," declared Jean Paul, "No one is going to pay any attention."

Allowing herself to be ushered into the main studio, Molly quickly looked around to see it was just as Jean Paul had said it would be with the dozen or so artists busily preparing their materials and supplies and not paying her any attention other than two or three who glanced up at her only momentarily before assuming their preparations.

"Perhaps you know who she is?" asked Jean Paul, as he began walking her along the walls of the studio, which was covered with past works and pointing to one in particular which Molly recognized as a famous actress.

"Yes," confirmed Molly, surprised.

"And who said a fine lady never goes naked," teased Jean Paul, "There never was a finer lady than her. I can tell you that for sure. She was also one of my finest models."

Walking Molly around the perimeter of the studio, Jean Paul continued his tour, showing her drawing after drawing, many of them famous women who had worked and posed for him through the years and each one naked as the day she was born.

Glancing quickly back and forth from the portraits to the artists every time she got a chance, Molly slowly began to get at least a little more comfortable as she could tell the artists weren't gawking at her as she had imagined would happen. They had all looked at her she was sure, but only in the same way that everyone see's everything around them.

At one point she even caught the eyes of one of the artists as he glanced up to look at her, but he simply smiled casually and went back to what he was doing. She had forced herself to give her own matching return smile, although it was one of her best acting jobs ever.

Molly began to realize Jean Paul's studio was very much indeed a high class endeavor and part of a very exclusive world ... a world Molly had never even really thought about. Certainly a world she had never thought she would ever touch in any way.

"All these drawings, Molly, what do you notice about them?" asked Jean Paul, bringing her out of her momentary personal thoughts and back into the present, "Think carefully, what is it about them all? What do they all have in common? What is the theme?"

Taking a deep breath and forcing herself to concentrate, Molly formed the only conclusion she could think of and hoped for the best, "They all tell a story."

"Ohhh! Molly! Honey!" enthused Jean Paul, "Jason said you were very smart! He wasn't kidding! Well! done!"

"You know Jason well, then?" inquired Molly, as casually as she could.

"Oh Honey," declared Jean Paul, "Jason owns this place. If it wasn't for him I would have gone broke a long time ago. I'm really good at art, but business ... not so much."

"So if it wasn't for Jason, you would never have hired me," declared Molly, realizing she already liked Jean Paul, perhaps because she felt he too was also at Jason's mercy, "Sorry."

"You listen to me carefully now, Molly," replied Jean Paul, suddenly shifting his tone as he took both of Molly's hands in his and spoke more softly, "The truth is I would hire an ugly bulldog and swear it was a butterfly if Jason told me to, but then, you're hardly an ugly bulldog now are you."

"I guess not," offered Molly, smiling weakly.

"Really, Molly, I mean it," continued Jean Paul, "You're perfectly fine and I think you'll make a great model, but in all candor, I really would appreciate it if you would do your best."

"You have my word," replied Molly, "but you have to do something for me ... just between you and me."

"And what would that be?" asked Jean Paul, now clearly ready for some awful caveat.

"You have to teach me how to be a lady," replied Molly, "How to be more sophisticated."

"Oh, Molly," replied Jean Paul, more sincerely than ever as he gave her a hug and then looked straight into her eyes, "it would be my pleasure."

"Thanks," replied Molly, "I'll do my best, I promise."

"Now look over there in that corner," instructed Jean Paul, getting back to business and pointing to a big cabinet with a small refrigerator next to it and a small stool, "That's the model's station. You can bring your own drinks and snacks and whatever and leave them here. Just put them in a container and put your name on it. I've already put a fresh sanitary cover on the stool for you.