Molly's Date Night

"So he has no fashion sense, and you have no decency." Molly isn't dressed badly at all. She has on a lime green tank top. I give her an extra point just because it's lime green. I can see the straps of a bright blue bra on her shoulders, too. She has on dark jeans with a low-cut waistline that leaves the tank top drifting along it, where it will flash just a sliver of skin when she moves fast enough. And she has sneakers on. No makeup yet. But I caught her with a hairbrush in her hand, so the makeup would have come later, once she had her hair done.

Molly has the GND, Girl Next Door, kind of look to her. She's not a beauty queen, but she's definitely attractive enough. She has a slightly oval, and slightly full face. She has long, light-brown or almost blond, hair that hangs freely down to the bottoms of her shoulder blades. She has radiant gray-blue eyes. She has a nose that's just slightly wide. She has a wide mouth, framed with moderately full deep pink lips. And beneath all of that, she has a softly rounded jawline. She's pretty enough that I wonder why she's wasting time on a loser. She should have no problem getting dates.

"Obviously I will have to teach you how to behave like a proper gutter tramp since it's clear there's no hope of you behaving like a proper lady. On your feet." I wave to hurry Molly up to her feet.

That nervous edge is back instantly on Molly's face. She cautiously gets up to her feet. I quickly tell her to stand with her hands behind her back. Back straight. Eyes forward. She obediently straightens herself up.

I stand in front of Molly, this time giving her a little space. Not so much, but a little. I hole my crop in my right hand and lightly tap my left with it. It keeps Molly's eyes focused on my whip.

"Let's see what I've just bought. Take that shirt off." I tell her matter-of-factly, my voice soft but firm.

Molly's eyes pop wide again. She blushes, but just slightly. She looks more shocked than anything as if the idea of undressing or even taking her shirt off, in front of me had never entered into her mind. And it probably hasn't. Not yet. Her face is an open book. Since I walked in here, the pages have been turning so fast I can't keep up. It tells me that a billion thoughts have been racing through Molly's head, all of them too fast for her to really comprehends what she's thinking.

She moves a little slowly. But she lifts the tank top over her head. It lets me see that her breasts are ample, but I could already tell that with the snug tank top on. It shows me a fairly modest full-cup bra that almost completely covers her mounds. It's satiny, but not see-through. There's no lace trim to it, either. It also has wide straps. But it holds her mounds up well enough that I can see the wire under its cups. It's cute, but not to my taste. I prefer sexy bras on breasts.

It also lets me see that Molly isn't that big of a girl. She's maybe 5'6" and I'd guess about 140 pounds, but I maybe ten pounds off. She has shoulders that are lean enough for me to make out the outlines of her collar bones, but not so lean that they look bony. She has somewhat straight sides with only a modest curve at her waist. But she has full, curvy hips. I can see a flat stomach, it's skin almost fully taut. I can see a slightly deep navel that's pierced. I wonder if her parents know about that. Probably. Less probably that they approve of it. Her arms look lean, but with enough fullness to them that they don't show much in the way of muscle or bones. Just her elbows and at her wrists.

"Good girl." I tell her as it's coming the last bit over her head. "now fold it up neatly and put it on the bed." I wait as she does that. She stands facing me. It takes her half a second to remember to get her hands behind her back, but she does it. So I let her get away with it.

I smile at her, showing her that I'm pleased with her performance so far. "now take that bra off and show me my new boobs." I say gently, but firmly. I picked the wording to reinforce to Molly that it's my body now. Not hers. That I will decide who sees what, not her.

Molly blushes again, but this time a hair deeper. She takes a deep breath and reaches behind her back to unclasp the bra. I see the straps fall away and notice that its wide strap has three clips on it, not one. That's fairly standard on the larger cup sizes. They need the extra support. She hesitates for a fraction of a second before pulling the straps off her shoulders and pulling the bra free from her chest. She hurries to fold the bra, holding it in front of her as she folds it up. Then she stands.

It lets me see those ample breasts. I'd guess she's a 34-D, maybe even a 34-DD. Her mounds are milky white with no tan lines at all. Then again, what I can see of her body is all the same hue. Her mounds look to be both firm and soft at the same time. They're well rounded, hanging on her chest with no sag or droop at all. They have smooth, curved undersides that rise straight from her chest, leaving no crease as they do. They also hang slightly to the outsides of her chest, leaving a wider-V of cleavage between them. They're topped with a pair of wide rings of medium-pink that has the faintest tinge of purple to it. And centered in each ring is an equally wide nipple. But a short nipple that doesn't so much rise off her mound as swell up and poke its rounded tip up. Both nipples point slightly to the outside. Both nipples are as hard as rocks now, too, by the look of them. And it's not cold in here.

"Stay," I tell her firmly. "That means do not move." I give Molly a second to process the command. Then I reach my hand out slowly, putting it to her left breast. It's closer to me. I put my fingertips to her mound where it begins rising from her chest and slowly stroke them down. It lets me feel the silkiness of her skin.

Molly must like it. As my fingers near the colored ring atop her mound, I see goosebumps sprouting up throughout the ring. It pokes her nipple just a little bit more out at me. Molly stands there submissively allows me to feel her breast.

My fingers get to her nipple. I stroke a single finger over the tip of her nipple, feeling the slight roughness to its hard tip. Molly breathes a faint purr.

I slip my hand down along the underside of her breast, letting her mound come to rest atop my palm. I give it a gentle squish. It lets me feel the firmness of it, like a hard, wet sponge. All natural, too. Just soft enough that the ample mounds will jiggle nicely.

I let my hand caress its way back to the nipple. I take the nipple in my fingers, pinching it so gently and rolling it softly between my fingers. It doesn't take but a second for Molly to purr again. I keep rolling the nipple and, in a very honeyed voice, ask "What size bra do these boobs wear?"

"34-D, Ma'am..." Molly answers with a purr in her voice.

"I want you to answer me like a lady. A full sentence that tells me what you were asked, and the answer. Try again for me..."

"My boobs wear a size 34-D bra, Ma'am," Molly says sweetly.

"Good girl!" I tell her with a little enthusiasm in my voice. "I'll have you acting like a proper lady in no time for me!" I take my hand away from her breast. "Now take those jeans off and let me see the legs I just bought."

Molly hesitates for a second, but this time she's only using the time to collect herself. It's clear she enjoyed having her breast touched. I wonder if it's a new experience for her or if she's gone that far with some guy. I almost ask her, but change my mind. I don't care. It's clear she enjoyed my touch. Or at least her breast did.

I wait as Molly slips her jeans off. It takes her a few seconds. They're a little snug on her bottom. It reveals a pair of long legs that have about one extra pound on each. It's just enough extra weight for the very top of her thigh to have a slight looseness to it. But not to have any flab. Not even to be big enough to hide the crotch of her panties.

Of course, it helps that her panties are red. They're low cut on her hips with narrow sides. And black trim at the legs and waistband. But most noticeable is the black cat embroidered atop her pubes with "bad kitty" around it. Cutesy, but not exactly the sexiest. Then again, I don't think any guys would complain about seeing her in them. I wonder if she shaves her pubes. I don't see any hairs sticking out around the edges of her panties, and these are small enough that I would.

Molly obediently waits for her next instruction. I think it's pretty obvious to everyone what her next instruction is going to be. The only thing left on her body is those panties. She tries to hide it, but I can see that she's slightly edgy as she stands there.

"Take those panties off and let me see my new pussy." I tell her to remind her that I own her pussy, too.

Molly doesn't blush this time. But she does have that nervousness to her face as she slides them down. More the nervousness of wondering what I'm going to think of the body she's showing me. Will I like it and approve of it, or deem it fat, or ugly... girls are so sensitive about that. Unlike if I were a guy, Molly knows she can't count on me being so glad to see a pussy that I will love whatever I'm shown.

It lets me see "barely a bush" atop her pubes. At the center, there's a dense tuft of brown tangles. But outward from there it quickly thins to nothing. It's well-trimmed inside the creases of her thighs, and along its top. The dense tuft is just above the top of her slit. From there, I can see a fairly plump mound puffing down between her thighs, her lips covered with a fir that's neither dense nor sparse. But that is well-trimmed. It gives her slit a longish look to it.

"Turn around," I tell Molly. What I haven't done is give her what she wants, and needs, yet. Reassurance that her body measures up. That I'm not unhappy with it. And more so, that I'm happy with her.

Molly turns around. It lets me see that there's a little tattoo on the small of her back, now mostly hidden by her hands. I'll bet her parents were not happy about that! But that's not what I wanted to see. I wanted to see her bottom. And now I can see two fully rounded cheeks swelling out at me. Globes that have a slight softness to them. And a fullness that has her crack completely closed, the insides of her globes flush against each other. Globes that have a pronounced roundness to their bottoms.

I put my hand to one of her cheeks. This time, with her back to me, Molly can't see it coming. She doesn't know I'm going to touch her until she feels my hand on her bottom. It sends a light shudder through her.

I give her cheek a gentle squish, feeling its softness. It's a little softer than her breasts are. I guess those potato chips went to her bottom, and just her bottom. But not enough to make it look fat or flabby. Just full and soft. Her cheek is like a soft sponge in my hand covered with a rather silky soft skin. But under that sponginess, I can feel a firm muscle.

I let go of the squeeze and use my hand to tenderly caress her cheek. It doesn't take but a second for a fresh layer of goosebumps to sprout up and cover the globe. I give it another second or so.

I slowly move my hand around until it's at the top of her globe. I lift all of my hand from her bottom except for the tip of one finger that's directly above the top of her crack. I start drawing that finger down along her crack, caressing the inside edges of her cheek with it, but not pushing it far enough between those cheeks to touch the bottom of the valley.

Molly shudders again. I'd bet it's the most erotic touch she's ever felt. The most teasing, too. I'd bet it's arousing her hotly.

"Good girl," I tell Molly. "Now turn back around."

Molly turns to face me. I smile at her. "You've been a good girl so far tonight." She needs to know that I'm happy with her. I knew it. And now I see it. The wide smile that blooms on her face as I tell her that I'm happy with her. Renee was right, Molly is a submissive. She's just a naive one. If she had any experience giving herself to another, she'd never stand for Nate's childish attempts to control her.

"Slave, find this whore something to wear tonight," I tell Sophie.

"Yes, Mistress," Sophie answers with a grin. She doesn't know what I have in mind for Molly. I'd never tell a slave anything like that. But I did refer to Molly as a whore. Which tells Sophie all she needs to know. It tells her I want Molly to look sexy tonight.

I stand there and wait. Molly stands there, nude and facing me, and watches anxiously as Sophie starts hunting through Molly's drawers and her things. Sophie finds Molly's underwear drawer and starts there. Molly looks slightly uneasy as she watches Sophie casually going through her panties.

Sophie finds a matching black bra and panty set. It's lacy and fairly sexy. And from what I've seen, it's the skimpiest thing in her drawer. Molly is definitely going to need a wardrobe improvement for this Queendom. I insist my peasant bitches dress like the whores they are!

Sophie goes to Molly's closet. She comes back with a black dress and high-heeled shoes. She folds it all neatly and makes a pile for me. Then she waits.

"Slave, do something with this whore's hair," I tell Sophie in a sweet voice.

Sophie hurries to get Molly's brush. She spends just a minute brushing the tangles out of Molly's hair. Then she hunts through the hair accessories that Molly has on her dresser. She finds a huge white clip. Sophie pulls Molly's hair back and puts the clip in it at the back of Molly's head. It holds Molly's hair back, showing off her neck and shoulders.

"Dress this whore." I tell Sophie.

Sophie doesn't hesitate. She gets the black panties she picked for Molly and kneels down to slip them over Molly's feet.

Molly blushes. A slightly embarrassed look sweeps over her face as if she wants to insist that she can dress herself but already has figured out that would not be such a good idea. She cringes just a tiny bit. I almost miss that. She starts to lift a foot to help Sophie get the panties on her. I just tap that foot with my crop. "I didn't tell you to do anything. Stand there. My slave will dress you." Molly quickly lowers her foot again.

A half-second later Sophie is lifting that same foot. Then the other. Then she's slipping the panties up Molly's legs and settling them into place on Molly's bottom. At least these have some lace trim to them. And they leave a slice of her cheeks bared at the outsides.

Then Sophie is putting the bra on Molly. She starts by pulling the shoulder straps over Molly's arms, then fastening the wide band behind Molly's back, but with the bra still off Molly's breasts. Sophie pulls the bra up, bringing the straps up onto Molly's shoulders. Sophie doesn't hesitate even the tiniest but to cup Molly's ample breasts in her small hands and settle them snugly into the cups of the bra. Molly flinches only slightly but doesn't seem to really mind, as Sophie handles her breasts. I can see that Molly's nipples stay very hard the entire time.

Sophie kneels again and puts the shoes on Molly's feet. She's been saving the dress for last. It's a fairly skimpy dress, one that's definitely appropriate for a date. It's silky, but it's a cheap fake silky. Like a dress from Wal-Mart. Maybe it is. There isn't much in the way of shopping in the area where they live. It has spaghetti straps for Molly's shoulders, then a deep V cut in the front to show off her cleavage. A cleavage that the bra leaves mostly bare. It leaves a nice bit of her back bare at the top as well. It's a fairly loose-fitting dress. It hangs down to about halfway between her bottom and her knees, so it leaves a good bit of her legs bare as well. And in the three-inch heels she now has on, her calves are shapely with a defined muscle to them.

"There's only one thing left!" I squeal excitedly. Molly doesn't know me well enough to know that whenever I'm excited, she should be nervous. She just stands there, wondering what I might have to put on her now. I hold my hand out to Sophie, "a peasant's collar."

Sophie puts the collar, and a shiny padlock, in my hand. This collar is the one I reserve for the lowest forms of life. Those I haven't even decided are worthy of being trained to serve me. Or worthy of being given away to my Domme friends. It's nothing but a small piece of silver chain. I wrap it around Molly's neck, pulling it almost snug against her skin, but leaving a little room. I lock it on. It already has a dog tag on it that proclaims "I am the property of Miss Rodgers / If you find this whore unescorted, please call 251-509-1212 - REWARD." Once the collar is locked around Molly's neck, there are only about two inches of it left dangling free.

I clip a leash to the dangling bit. "Come along..." I teasingly tell Molly. I'm already leading her out of her bedroom by the leash. Molly has no choice but to follow her leash.

I walk her out to her living room. Her parents are sitting on the sofa. Both look very anxious as if they've been wringing their hands the entire time, waiting for some sign. I think Molly on a leash is a pretty clear sign. Walk Molly over and tell her to sit beside her mother. A stern look from me reminds Molly to sit politely. And when Molly does, my look changes to a wide smile. And that gets a smile from Molly. I hand Renee the leash attached to Molly's collar. She reluctantly takes hold of it.

"As you can see, Molly has no issues with being owned by me. I've told Molly she's not to see Nate anymore." I turn to Molly, "are you going to speak to that turd?"

"No, Ma'am, I promise I will not speak to Nate ever again." Molly politely answers.

"I hope not. I will be unbelievably disappointed in you if you do. Especially since I've decided to be kind to you tonight. I know you were expecting to have a date tonight. Since you've been so good for me up to now, I've decided you may have your date. Just not with that turd. Your date will be picking you up shortly."

Almost as if id' arranged it, the doorbell rings. I send Renee to answer her door.

A minute later Renee is showing a young man back to the living room. I can see on her face that she likes this boy. He's about 6'1" and 200 pounds, but all of that is muscle. He has short, sandy brown hair. He's rather handsome, too. And unlike Nate, this boy is properly dressed in khaki slacks and a button-down shirt.

He's also been very polite to Renee. He turns to me "Good evening, Miss Rodgers." He knows my name. He's not one of my toys. He's a frat boy I know from school. He's also the back-up kicker for the USA jaguars. It's not exactly the best position on a football team, but at least he's on the team. And maybe he'll even get to kick once or twice this season, for real, instead of in practice.

"Hey, Kent." I smile at him. I take the leash Renee set down when she went to get the door. I just wave with my fingers for Molly to get to her feet. Molly stands up. Already I can see the grin on her face, and the twinkle in her eye. Kent is a handsome man. "This is Molly. She will be your date tonight."

Kent smiles at her. "Hi, Molly, I'm Kent. It's nice to meet you."

I tap Molly on her bottom with my hand. I tell her what to say. "Hi, Kent. It's really great to meet you, too, Sir." She says it with a smile. And a little bat of her eyelashes that I didn't tell her to add in.

"I hear you're about to graduate next month."

"Yes, Sir," Molly seems to have no problem being polite, at least not while I'm still holding her leash and the threat of my crop is fresh in her mind. "May I ask where you go to school, Sir?"

"I'm a junior at USA. I'm a dual major, social work, and sports management. I'm kind of hoping to make a career out of using sports to motivate disadvantaged youth to excel. What are your plans for after high school?"