"I don't know about that, Angel..."
Joe didn't call Angel "Angel" because Angel was Angel's name, which it was. Joe called Angel "angel" because she was, literally, an angel. At least to him.
Not just to him alone, mind you. Plenty of other people could see the angle as well. For one thing, Angel's hair was honey-blonde and naturally curly. That's already pretty much enough, isn't it ? Angel also had a very simmetrical, ever so slightly oval face and deep baby-blue eyes. She was tall and slender, and when she moved she did it easily, gracefully one could say. As if she was floating about in a helpful breeze.
Then again plenty of men call their baby "angel", especially in Joe's millieu. Joe's daddy was a trucker -- he woke up at four-forty to drive that truck day in and day out ; to drive that truck so Joe could go to college (which didn't exactly work out all that well for Joe, but that certainly has nothing to do with trucks and colleges and therefore not with our story, either). Joe's daddy never called Joe's mom "angel" as far as Joe knew, which simply means he started the count too late, after an abortion and other occurences. Joe's daddy's brothers, though, all did, even if the angels kept changing, and their sons and friends and acquaintances and so following.
The Angel in question frowned playfully. "We said you were going to be enthusiastic about it, Joe" she cooed.
"We... uhh...you... umm. That's right!"
"Were you being enthusiastic right now, Joe ?"
"I... I wasn't... I..." he stuttered, helplessly. Angel's left eyebrow rose a shade. "No ma'am!"
"Were you being otherwise, Joe ?"
"I... Yes ma'am! I was being otherwise, ma'am".
"Aaand what did we say was going to happen otherwise ?" she toyed with the words, almost purring them out.
"You said... umm... we said there's going to be extra chores."
"And..." Joe's voice failed him, he just yawned inaudibly. Then he caught himself "extra rolls. Extra rolls, ma'am!" he yelped, almost like a recruit in trouble.
"How many extra rolls, Joe ?"
"One ma'am". But that eyebrow again. "One the first time, ma'am. Then two. Then... then more."
"Was this the first time, Joe ?"
"It was. It... uhm... it was whatever you say, Angel."
"I think actually it was the first time, huh. Wasn't it ?"
"Tell you what Joe, considering it was the first time and we did say it's only one roll for the first time and then two for the second, I'll cut you a break. How about you do three rolls, for the first time and for the second time, together. Would you like that ?"
"I... I... I would" yelped poor helpless Joe, somehow reduced, in spite of his muscular build and towering stature, to a heaping pile of whiffles and snortles by the twenty-one year old inexplicably towering in front of him, half his weight.
"You would what, Joe ?"
"I... I would like three rolls, ma'am. Please." then after a short pause. "May I get the table ?"
"Ah, one moment, Joe. Not just yet. Wasn't there more ?"
Joe's eyes widened. There was more. Indeed there was, plenty more, and his flimsy plot to deflect it had fallen completely flat. "Yes. Yes there was more, ma'am."
"What more was there ?"
"You said... I mean we said that if I'm not enthusiastic about it... if... if I'm not enthusiastic then... then when we go to buy the clothes you will ask your girlfriends to come along. And... and... and help me... I mean help you... us, help us pick."
"Pick what, Joe ?"
"Pick the sluttiest ones." then after a short pause, recollecting himself, "Ma'am."
"How many girlfriends, Joe ? Wasn't it just one for the first time ?"
"It was... it was... you... we said just one, Angel. But it should be more."
"It should be more, huh. Yeah, I think so. I'm just going to invite over anyone who has time, we'll have a great party."
"A service party, ma'am ?"
"But of course."
"You didn't think we'd do something like that on the sly anyway. Did you Joe ?"
"And they'll have to take selfies and whatnot with you, of course."
"Oh... oh Angel..."
"Of... of course. Of course they'll take pictures."
"And put them on the web."
"So people can see what a pretty boy you are and how well you dressed for the trip, isn't that right, Joe ?"
"Oh yes... yes Angel. Yes ma'am. So they can all see..."
"What do you think, Joe, do it make it a couples event ? Should they bring a boyfriend each ?"
"Oh Angel!" Joe's voice had lost a lot in audible volume, but had gained even more in imperative desperation.
"Ok, alright, no boyfriends. This time."
"You know you've been putting it off long enough ?"
"Yes... yes ma'am."
"One of these days you'll have to break down and show real men your pretty true self."
"Yes ma'am. I will ma'am. Anything you say."
"That's a good baby boy. Ah, Joe, I'm so proud of you... now run fetch that table."
Joe leaped through the livingroom towards Angel's bedroom. It was technically a one bedroom apartment, but the bedroom was spacious enough, with a very nice king sized bed and even a few square feet's worth of walk-in closet. Of course it was Angel's bedroom, Joe just slept there on an old mattress on the floor. In fact, it was Angel's old mattress from her Freshman dorm. She said it'd be the best bed for him, to give him sweet dreams. Angel had been busy in her first year away from home, and the mattress was indeed well worn, uneven and lumpy in many places. Joe had indeed spent many sleepless hours contemplating the precise manner in which the item might've been so reduced over the course of many other sleepless hours...
The "table" was a modified Monopoly game. Angel was clever like that, she had re-made all the community chest and chance cards. The community chest ones were the worst -- or maybe Joe was just shy. The turns worked exactly in the same way as with the old game, except Joe was the only player (though they preferred to call it "sucker"). There was no $200 for passing go. Instead, Angel would distribute the property cards before the game started. She'd give them all to herself, or split them with her friends when they were throwing a party, maybe even leave some unclaimed in the bank sometime. Then Joe rolled the dice. If he landed on any piece of owned property, he had to buy it back from the owner, by opening his wallet. A week's wages for a little piece of paper saying "Boardwalk" on the face and "Anilingus qs" in black sharpie on the back was a little steep, but Angel wouldn't have it any other way. Then after paying for it, he had to perform it, too, and "qs" meant something in latin to the effect of "until she's had enough".
The rules had many variations, most of which ad-hoc, especially when there was a party going on and a turn could stretch over hours -- the girls could always drop back to Joe's table whenever there was a lull in conversation, and so they did. One popular variation was "backsies", where after buying and performing a card, Joe had to gift it back to the original owner, and "giftsies", where he could give it to any girl he wanted.
Sometimes, especially with Angels' closest friends, they'd play "Pimp". This meant the cards don't have to be bought, and the sucker only paid the rent value on the card whenever he landed on it, but the owners could build houses and hotels on the cards -- by buying them from the Pimp, which was always Joe's own angel, Angel. This could get very expensive, and Joe was never allowed to stop playing once he was out of money. Instead, he had to write IOUs. The girls had a lot of fun with this especially, they made him write elaborate IOUs with complicated guarantees and clauses and whatnot. Then in the coming days he had to earn his IOUs back, which almost always involved working as a maid and other such things. The girls were clever and inventive, and Joe's life hadn't had a dull moment he could recall, ever since that day almost a year ago he had first seen Angel at the club and, three walkers on the rocks later, worked up his courage to go talk to her.
But he couldn't, of course, simply bring the table over ; he'd have to get into costume first. It didn't take him very long. With practiced moves he opened up Angel's closet, selected one of Angels' outfits and flew back.
"My, my, don't you look fetching in my grease skirt. But... what's that ?"
"That's my penis poking out, Angel."
"Well it'd better be poking out, it's a really short skirt. But... why is it so small ?"
"That's just how my penis is, baby."
"Not much of one, is it Joe ?"
"I mean... I've seen real men meat before, but it's nothing like this." she cooed in his ear while fondling his manhood.
"Were they... were they much bigger, Angel ?"
"O yeah, much. Much much bigger. And thicker. And... what is this ?"
"Oh, that's just a little penis aid, Angel."
"But what's it for ?"
"It keeps my penis short and small for you, baby."
"You mean it could grow big and strong if it wasn't for the penis aid ?"
"I think so..."
"Are you sure ?"
"Well... you've seen it, ma'am."
"Yes, some time ago. But... are you sure ?"
"I... I don't know."
"Wouldn't you like to find out ?"
"So why don't you take it off ?"
"I can't take it off. It has this little lock, see ?"
"Oh, that's right. Do you know who has the key ?"
"You do, Angel."
"Oh, that's right! So am I going to let you out ?"
"Why not ?"
"My time's not up yet, ma'am."
"When is your time up ?"
"Only you know that, ma'am."
"Would you like to know ?"
"I... uh... yes. No, I wouldn't. Yes, please. I... I... not really. Actually..."
"Alright, well, let's play a game. What was it, you had three turns ?"
"What's that ?"
"I had to do three full turns, ma'am. Three full turns, however many rolls it take. And more if I'm not any good at it."
"That's right. We'll play on credit this time, you don't have to pay cash."
"How much do you think you'll end up owing me ?"
"At least ten thousand, Angel."
"Make it twenty. Actually, you know what, make it twenty-five."