A Schoolgirl's Lesson Ch. 01

"But I have not worn the clothes. That I promise you!" Alice screamed back, she was once more looking straight at Freddie, determined that this battle was not yet lost.

"Yes, but you bought them, and you bought them for a reason. You bought them because you wanted to experiment about what it would be like to look like a proper lady, a lady who displays her body just as it should be displayed." She said nothing. She could not really argue with Freddie's logic without the risk of revealing the true reason behind her purchase. Freddie pressed home his case: "And Alice, I think it makes sense that a young, beautiful teenager should experiment with clothes that bring out the best in you. Clothes that will please a man." Still no retort from Alice. Her fight back had been short-lived.

"And Alice, in order for me to prove my point, I want you to put on exactly what you bought."

"What?"

"Yes, Alice, I want you to dress like a sexy schoolgirl. I want you to appreciate your body. To display it as God intended. Only then will you understand what you possess, how men will appreciate it and how it will ultimately make you happy." Freddie was now being more direct with her than he had previously been. He was taking a calculated risk that she would agree to his request and experiment in front of him. Of course it could backfire and she could just as easily storm out. He was not really in a position (yet) to force her to do anything.

"I am sorry, I know I agreed to be an assistant with your case, but I don't want to do this. I think this is going too far and I don't think it is relevant…"

"I think it is relevant Alice. I think this will help you. I think if you dress properly, see how you feel, you will come around to my point of view. I mean, what harm could come of it?"

That was true, Alice thought, it was not like the man was going to attack her…

"Well, I suppose I could. I have not actually worn them so it might be interesting to see how I look..."

"Good. Now, you said you bought a blouse, skirt, stockings suspenders, heels and a g-string. Wear them and nothing else other than your school tie. Keep that on, I think that would be most fetching."

"Ok"

"Oh and Alice, lose the bra, you don't need it."

"D-don't wear a bra?"

"No, I want you to be free up there. Go, dress as I have ordered."

His orders were clear and Alice found herself needing to obey him. Was this normal, she wondered? As she thought about how this once committed feminist was taking and following orders from an old sexist man, she found herself retrieving the relevant items from her wardrobe. They were still in their bag and box. Once she had them all, she made her way out and towards the bathroom. She had no intention of stripping off and dressing in front of him.

When she left, Freddie sat back in his chair, quietly satisfied with his morning's work. He was largely making this up as he went along, but her revelation about her recent purchase allowed him to improvise and step up his attack. Of course, there was still no guarantee that she would follow his orders. Without the necessary leverage over this girl she (although she did not know it herself) was still controlling whether Freddie's evil plan would bear fruition or not. He could only just sit back, wait and hope for the best…

And the best followed.

For about ten minutes later in walked Alice, transformed from dowdy geeky schoolgirl to stunning sexy teenage schoolgirl slut. Gone was the long skirt, flat shoes and oversized jumper to be replaced with a stunning sexy slutty schoolgirl outfit.

She was wearing five inch black high heels, a tiny skirt which barely covered her bottom and revealed the tops of her black stockings and the white cream flesh above. She had on black suspenders, also visible to Freddie, which darted up her skirt to be attached to a garter belt. Up top she had on a tight white cotton shirt made from some sort of transparent material which meant that, since she had been ordered to go bra-less, her big tits and thrusting nipples could clearly be seen.

The only links to her old self were her glasses, which she kept on but which still did nothing to hide her beauty (Freddie made a note that she would have to wear lenses in future) and her school tie which emphasised that, for all her slutty appeal, she was still an innocent schoolgirl.

It took a lot to leave Freddie speechless but the transformation of this teenager left him with his mouth hanging open and struggling for words. He was amazed at what she was wearing, and the fact that she would actually wear it for him. I mean this was not a subtle transformation, going from something dowdy to a little more revealing. This once geeky looking teenager, who dressed like she was going to church, had immediately transformed herself into someone who would not look out of place on a teenage porno film set. And what was even more shocking was that in reality, Alice was here with him, looking like she did, by choice. There was nothing really compelling her to dress this way, other than an innate sense that she had to do what Freddie ordered. She would have seen how she looked in the bathroom and could have ended it there and then. There was no need for her go out like this. She could have called the whole thing off and asked Freddie to leave. And Freddie knew that, faced with a girl who wanted him out, and with nothing to blackmail her with, he would have had no choice but to leave. Violent rape had never been his sort of thing. Coercing women who had no choice but to submit to his evil will without the use of physical violence was his forte.

But turn up she did, looking like the perfect teenage slut. And this could only mean one thing to Freddie: she, like her mother, was a subservient wannabe whore who needed to be dominated by a man. She almost certainly did not know the full extent of what she was herself, these feelings were only being brought out now under the expert tutelage of Freddie. But the very fact that she chose to display herself like this to him meant that deep down she wanted to be proven wrong and to be led by him.

Indeed, as Alice had gotten ready in the bathroom, she could not believe what she was doing. She had never once in her life dressed like this. Her mother had asked her many times before whether she wanted to try and wear things other than the dowdy skirts and pants, but she had always steadfastly refused, saying she was happy with how she looked. (The one notable exception was the time her mother had persuaded her to wear a skimpy bikini. She had reluctantly agreed since on holiday no one would have seen her.)

But what was happening now was entirely different. She was dressing like this not for her mother, not even for Louise, but at the behest of this man. And she had agreed, despite every feminist bone in her body telling her to resist, and found herself doing exactly what he had ordered. She could not explain it. She was normally such a sensible, rationale girl but as she slid her g-string on and made sure it slipped perfectly inside her teenage buttocks, she could not explain why she was behaving in such an irrational way. Her brain was screaming out: "Stop! Stop, you idiot! Tell Freddie that this is over! Tell him that nothing he could do or say will ever convince her that she was wrong, or that her mother's behaviour could be excused in any way." But some other part of her body was telling her to carry on. Fulfil her inner instincts, dress in a way that would please this man. She did not know where this overwhelming surge of power was coming from but, as she adjusted the front of her g-string, she noticed that her pussy had become soaking wet…

When she had finished putting on her outfit and looked at herself in the mirror, she could not deny that, dressing like a slut did make her look, and feel, oh so good. But mingled with that was a feeling of fear. The fear of displaying too much of her young body. After all, she had never showed off so much leg before by wearing such a short skirt. And it was short. Too short. Whatever she did, however she walked, she could not prevent the little mini from flapping up revealing the tops of her stockings and suspender straps. And when she looked at herself from behind to see if things were any better, she was horrified to see that if anything, things were a worse for the beginnings of her lovely teenage bum could be seen. Naturally the g-string did nothing to help.

Indeed, the g-string was a source of much consideration for the young girl. Previously all she had ever worn were big cotton panties which, although comfortable, were hideous to look at. She had never even put on a pair of silky French knickers, let alone a g-string. When she had bought it, she thought it would have been too uncomfortable for her and would instantly dislike it. But somehow now, the feeling of a piece of string riding up her butt cheeks, leaving them fully on display seemed to be the most natural thing in the world. And for a feminist, this was something she could not easily believe

She would have spent more time dwelling in these contradictory feelings if it wasn't for the fact that she was forced to focus on her blouse and her breasts. Her naked breasts that could clearly be seen though her shirt. This, more than anything else, horrified her. She had abnormally large breasts for a girl so young and had always done her very best to hide them by wearing large clothes. But now, by wearing a tight fitted white shirt made from the thinnest of cotton, and being forced to go without a bra, she had performed a complete u-turn and was doing all she could to highlight her marvellous teenage tits. And they were marvellous. They were so big that the tight shirt could barely contain them. The buttons seemed like they could burst open at any moment, such was the pressure being exerted on them. She had wanted to buy a bigger shirt but Louise had told her that one a couple of sizes too small would be better. But better for whom, she now wondered? She might have agreed with her girlfriend had she been here, but she was with Freddie, an old man who would no doubt derive a great amount of pleasure from seeing her tits being displayed in such a way. And why were her nipples so erect. They never got so hard. Even when she was with Louise, they had never felt so big and firm.

This was all so wrong. She should change back into her original uniform, return to her old self and stop becoming a sexy schoolgirl slut for this old man. She was a bright intelligent girl, a straight "A" student who always valued what was inside over appearance. A lifetime's values instilled by her family, school and Church surely could not now be blown away in a matter of minutes by the ranting of an old man. She was going to change. She was going back to how she was. Her brain was going to finally overpower the feelings in her pussy. Commonsense would prevail…

And as poor Alice stood in front of Freddie, dressed as the sexy schoolgirl slut she swore she would never be, she contemplated the power of the pussy over the brain and wondered where this would all end…

After thirty seconds or so of Freddie ogling the teenage beauty, he finally spoke. "Well well my Dear, you look splendid, don't you think? You finally look like a girl should, when in the presence of a man."

"Err, I am not so sure, it is a little too revealing for me, perhaps?"

"Nonsense, my dear! Ha ha, if anything it is not revealing enough!" Alice wondered how much more revealing an outfit could get? "Admit it, when you saw yourself in the mirror, you felt a sense of pride. Pride in your body and how it looked when you displayed it properly?"

Recalling that she was still answering questions for the "prosecution" and had promised to do so honestly, she had no choice but to tell Freddie the truth. Not that she liked it. So, hands clasped demurely in front of her, head bowed down, and unintentionally presenting herself as the perfect submissive slut, she replied: "Yes, I was slightly taken aback with my appearance and could appreciate that, to some people, I would look attractive…"

"But do you think you look attractive? Do you like looking sexy?"

"Yes." She whispered, knowing the answer was an admission of defeat in this particular battle. She wondered how many further battles with Freddie she would lose.

"Alice, I want you to now walk up and down the room. I want you to model your outfit for me."

She immediately obeyed. She no longer listened to the rationale voice in her brain. She was now listening to the deafening noises coming from her pussy. Her wet pussy. And her pussy told her that it was her duty to be a model, to allow this old man to appreciate her young teenage body all dressed up in a sexy slutty way. So, this once firebrand feminist began her career as a glamour model and, as she did, Freddie uncrossed hid legs to allow his now fully erect 11 inch dick some room to breath.

And Freddie took great delight in humiliating this once haughty teenager. Just like her mother she was simply powerless to control her feelings when presented with the supreme will of a powerful man. They all crumbled and, like her mother, the lines of defence faded fast.

He allowed her to walk up and down the room for a good couple of minutes, her black high heels pounding away on her girly pink carpet. Her grey mini flapped up with each step, revealing the bottom of her arse. Her tits, although tightly encased in her blouse, still shook up and down, the nipples seemingly getting more and more erect with each step.

Finally, with Freddie's dick at bursting point, he decided to continue with his verbal assault. "You can stop now, my dear. Here, come and stand in front of me. That's right, right in front of me, good…" Alice moved to stand a couple of feet away from him. Again she clasped her hands in front of her and looked down but, as she did, she could not help but see Freddie's enormous cock protruding up against his black trousers. If she was afraid before, she was downright terrified now.

"The outfit is splendid, Alice, and I believe I have proved to you that you do feel more of a woman when you are dressed in an appropriate way. Don't you think?"

"Yes, I suppose you have."

"Good! And let's explore that a little further, shall we? How do you feel not wearing a bra? It is nice, is it not, to have those big breasts of yours free, just as God intended them to be? Men like to know that a girl's tits are free and available to them, don't you think?"

By using the word "tits" Freddie was, was the first tie today, using a derogatory term in front of her. Alice should have been shocked. But she wasn't. In the circumstances, dressed as a slut, she felt it only appropriate that this man should use slutty language.

"They do seem different when they are free. They do shake up and down and well, my nipples do graze against my shirt, but I suppose it is nice, you know nice to experience the feeling of freedom. But I can't comment on what a man would want since I have never been with one before…"

"Of course you haven't. Of course you haven't. And I take it you have worn, the g-string as ordered. I only ask because I cannot see it to be sure."

"Yes, yes I have."

"And how do you find it? Uncomfortable?"

"I did at first, but now…"

"But now?"

"Well, it doesn't feel too bad. I do a feel a little naked, I thought I wouldn't like that, but actually, as with my bra, it does feel rather liberating." As she spoke, Alice could not believe what she was saying. The feminist in her was dying, and it was being killed by the power of her pussy.

"That's only natural. You see, a girl, just as with her tits, needs to display her arse to her man. Too often women choose to wear ridiculous big panties, the ones I am sure you were wearing before. But as I said, your needs are irrelevant when it comes to the needs of a man. A man insists on his bitch wearing something that aesthetically pleases him. That goes for the heels, stockings and short skirt. But the g-string is the very epitome of what a true bitch should wear." Freddie's language was deliberately getting cruder. He had noted her completed lack of response when he had used the word "tits". He now wanted to step it up. And when he in effect called Alice a bitch, he noted that she looked up at him, and licked her full lips.

"Alice, come closer and turn around so I can see your bottom. I need to inspect it."

Alice obeyed. Being called a "bitch" and not protesting was the biggest sign to her that she had lost any will to fight back. It was now only a question of how far this wicked old man would push her. She walked over to stand just a couple of feet away from him and then turned around. She assumed she just wanted to look at her bottom. She still had a lot to learn about Freddie.

"Now, I want you to reach behind and lift your lovely skirt up for me so I can take a good look at your arse."

Alice at first did not move. Could she do this? No man had ever seen her bottom before and yet she was being ordered by a man who, was not only calling her a "bitch", but was rapidly treating her like one. The orders, like his language, were being aggressively ratcheted up and she found herself unable to resist or challenge him. So, ever so slowly, her hands reached back to find the bottom of her tiny mini. Grabbing hold of it, she slowly moved it upwards, revealing her teenage bottom to the greedy eyes of her attacker.

"That's it, right up to your waist… Oh my, that is beautiful. Just simply beautiful. I see the g-string has disappeared right up your cheeks. That is perfect. The perfect way a bitch should display her bottom. To her Master!"

"Master?" At this, Alice finally questioned her interrogator.

"Yes, Alice, every bitch needs a Master. A man whom she completely obeys and submits herself to." Freddie, as if to emphasise that it was he who was her Master, placed his hand on her bottom and gently stroked it. "Yes, every bitch needs a Master, Alice, don't you agree?"

"I-I don't know? Oh, please, you should not be touching my bottom this way, it is not right…"

"It's ok Alice, I am just, as the lawyer for the prosecution, trying to show you that a woman's role is to be subservient to a man. You remember our little argument, don't you Alice?"

In truth Alice had completely forgotten the original reason why she had gotten herself into this predicament, so engrossed had she become in performing Freddie's every order. However when Freddie reminded her, it allowed Alice to try and regain some composure and reassert control over the proceedings. "Yes, I remember, but how is this helping? I mean this is not right. I should not have to display my bottom to you. You should not be touching me. And I am no one's "bitch" nor do I need a "Master"… Oh ouch, Freddie, p-please…" On hearing Alice disagree with him, Freddie did the only thing a man could do when a bitch dared disobey her Master. He spanked her. And he spanked her hard.

"Freddie, no! No! Stop! What are you doing?" She screamed, truly horrified at what he was doing to her.

"Schoolgirl's need to be punished when they are naughty".

Spank!

Spank!

Spank!

"No, p-please stop…"

Spank!

Spank!

Spank!

Freddie ignored her and merely carried on implementing what he deemed to be the necessary punishment for a wilful schoolgirl's bottom. Each bottom cheek received his cruel attention and was spanked several times. And during this assault on her person, Alice just stood where she was, keeping her skirt raised and providing him with an unobstructed access to her teenage cheeks. She found that she was no longer in control of her person - she now seemed only able to act following strict orders from Freddie.