“So,” I said, reaching over and turning down the radio, “about last night …”
I saw Bailey stiffen in the seat beside me. She gripped her hands in her lap and looked down at them.
“I just wanted to …” I was searching for words. “Discuss what happened. That was …strange.”
She took a deep breath.
“I know,” she said. “I’m so sorry. I know that it was …messed up. I’m messed up.”
“You don’t need to apologise for anything,” I reassured her. “I just want to understand. I’m not …comfortable with my part in it. I just need to know what is going on.”
Bailey looked out the window and spoke, avoiding eye contact with me.
“Mom …” she said, “mom really messed me up. She was always calling me things like that. Slut. Whore. No matter how good I was, no matter how good I tried to be, she didn’t care. She would just always tear me down. It go so I was always paralyzed. I couldn’t do anything.
“Not that that helped. Mom would insult me about that. Calling me stupid. Calling me lazy. Accuse me of trying to … do things. Trying to seduce people. Men who came to the house to do work. Dad. Everything.
It got to the point where I had episodes like you saw last night. I couldn’t catch my breath. I was having, what you said. Panic attacks.”
She leaned her face against the window, pressing her forehead to the glass and continued to speak. I said nothing, trying to let her get out what she seemed to need to share.
“She had always slapped me but that didn’t seem to be enough for her anymore. That was around the time she started to make dad spank me.
“It was humiliating. I hated it. She always had me take off my pants so I felt it more. She would watch and demand he hit me harder.
“The most messed up thing, though, was that it worked. It would call me down. It would always stop the attacks. I’d be able to catch my breath. I started to need it. So I would do things that made them do it to me. He would spank me and she would call me a slut and a whore and the screaming in my head would quiet for a bit.”
Bailey looked at me with tears standing out in her eyes.
“I’m sorry. I know it’s messed up.”
I was gripping the steering wheel very hard. I was seething with anger. How could my father let this happen to his daughter? How could her mother do this? Bailey’s treatment by them had left obvious scars. I was furious with her parents. Furious with myself for being a part of it last night.
“You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry for what happened to you. I’m sorry for taking advantage of you last night.” I said.
“What?” she said, looking quickly over at me. “Don’t say that! You were amazing last night! I needed you and you were there for me!”
“I kind of felt that I was inappropriate,” I said.
“No!” she said vehemently. “Let me decide that about myself! In the past I always felt better after Dad spanked me, but also wrong. He was only doing it because Mom made him, and she was always there leering at me. I felt safe with you. And after, you were sweet. Just what I needed.”
“I’m not sure I’m up to do that too often. It felt like I was hurting you,” I said.
“It hurt, yeah,” she said. “But it was what I needed. What I wanted. I promise I won’t ask you to do that too often. But…” she bit her lip. “If I need you will you be there for me? In the future? Please?”
I had only really known Bailey for a couple of days but I was already finding it difficult to say no to her.
“Let’s just play things by ear. I’d rather not have to spank you.”
“Ok,” she said and grinned at me. “Thank you!”
+++++
I rarely went to the mall any more. There was not much for me but Bailey seemed happy to be there. She made a bee line for a shop that carried clothing catering to young people and quickly selected a bunch of things to try on.
I tagged along feeling pretty useless. I nodded and said things like, ‘that looks nice’, and, ‘sure. Why not?’ To the things she showed me.
Once she had a decent collection in her arms she announced that she was going to go try them on.
“Ok,” I said. “I’ll just wait out here. I’ll look through the men’s section.” I gestured to the couple of racks with t shirts and jeans. It would take me about thirty seconds to look at all of it but it was something to do.
“That’s stupid,” she said. “You wouldn’t wear anything they have here.”
She was right about that.
“Just come and give me your opinions on what I’m getting. C’mon!”
She led me to the waiting area and I leaned against the wall outside of her booth feeling awkward. She emerged shortly wearing an outfit she had picked out.
She looked very good. It was a white blouse and high waisted jeans. She spun in front of me and I had to admit her ass looked fantastic in them. It was a more grown up look than anything I had seen her wear so far.
“How’s this?” She asked. “Think it’s suitable for your office? I’m guessing it’s less formal there? Or am I wrong?”
“You are right,” I nodded. “That would fit in there just fine.”
“Ok. Just a few more,” she said. She shot a grin over her shoulder at me. “A few dozen!”
I mock groaned in frustration and she stepped back into the change room. She was out again shortly.
She modeled several more outfits for me. She looked good in all of them. She was a natural beauty so she looked good in anything, I suspected.
The last outfit was closer to what I had seen her bring with her. It was a tank top and shorts that were loose but very short. The tank top looked a bit small, and her bra straps were visible. It did show off a nice line of cleavage. Something I tried to avert my eyes from.
“How’s this,” she asked, posing in front of me.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Looks good.”
“You said that about everything!”
“It has always been true,” I said, laughing.
“These shorts might be a bit short,” she said. “What if I did this?”
She turned away from me and leaned forward at the waist. My eyes widened as the almost non existent legs of the shorts pulled up. I could see her pink panties through the holes.
“You might not want to do that,” I said, unable to look away. “How often are you doing that anyway?”
“True,” she said, straightening up. “Maybe just for around the house. They are really comfortable.
She gathered what she had chosen and we took it to the cash desk. I paid with my credit card, assuring her it was not too much.
We stopped at a couple other stores repeating the same setup. She would choose outfits and model them for me. I would give feeble feedback and buy her what she wanted. Soon we had several bags.
We swung through a pharmacy to pick up toiletries and I assumed we were done. We were walking down one of the hallways leading towards our exit when Bailey tugged on my arm.
“Umm …” she said, hesitantly, “I also need …I only have like a couple …can we go in here? Do you mind?”
She was gesturing to a slightly fancy lingerie shop. It took a brief moment for her request to sink in.
“You need …” I said, “right. Yeah. Of course. For sure. You head in there. I’ll give you my credit card and get what you need. I’ll go grab a coffee.”
Bailey shook her head.
“No,” she said. “I need you to come in with me. We have a system! And I’ve never been in a place like this before. Mom always bought my …you know. And she always got the worst, ugliest stuff at Walmart. Please. Come in and help me?”
I sighed. I was not really comfortable shopping for underwear with my sister but she seemed to need me.
“Ok,” I said. “Whatever you need.”
We went in.
The shop was not large and, mid day, it was quiet. There was one other woman paying at the cash register, otherwise no other customers. The girl checking her out looked bored and annoyed. There were bins of panties, and bras hanging on shelving. The lighting was low and pink hued. There was an erotic cave type feel to the shop.
“So,” I said looking around at a loss, “what are you looking for?”
“I don’t really know,” Bailey said, picking up a pair of white panties before dropping them again. “Like I said, mom only bought me the lamest stuff. I’m not sure what I should get. You probably have more experience with nice panties and bras than I do! What do you like to see on your girlfriends?”
“Well,” I said, trying to put aside my uncomfortableness and be helpful, “that depends. It depends on what you want. These,” I picked up a pair of light blue basic panties, “are probably very comfortable. And they are cut so they would look pretty cute.”
Leave a Reply