Roberta Vickers - Bondage whore

"So, we shall do what we can to make you appear younger." Michelle laughed her bitter, piercingly harsh laugh and pulled out a small shaving kit.

"We are going to remove a bit of that fine hair from around your moist little twat. Ten-year-old children don't have a fine bush like yours, you understand."

Michelle awaited some reaction to her speech, but was very disappointed. Mindy impassively took the news that her fleecy snatch was going to be shaved off for a patron's increased sexual pleasure.

Throughout the shave, Mindy remained motionless and said nothing. She could tell that Michelle enjoyed this kind of psychodrama. The leather-clad woman carefully drew the razor over the lathered pussy mound, a smile lingering on her brightly painted carmine lips. Mindy quivered once when Michelle accidentally – or perhaps intentionally, Mindy could not tell – nicked her.

"Don't worry. I have just the thing for a tiny little gash like this!"

Mindy couldn't refrain from squirming when Michelle crammed two fingers far up her cunt, but she did not say a word.

Again disappointed at the lack of response from her captive, Michelle located the styptic pencil and drew it down the tiny cunt. Mindy flinched again at the pain near her sensitive clitoris, then coldly said, "Be more careful. You'll damage valuable property."

Michelle's violet eyes speared into emerald-green ones, hatred flaring from both sets of orbs. Michelle announced, "You won't be quite so cold after the professor is finished with you."

"The professor?"

Michelle sneered, "You'll find out. The hard way. Now let's finish preparing you for your… encounter session."

She snapped shut the shaving case, then rolled Mindy onto her stomach to unlock the shackles on her chafed wrists. The girl managed to twist around onto her back and rub the raw skin that had been chewed away by the metal of the handcuffs. Circulation returned to her hands after a few minutes of vigorous massaging.

The woman threw a little girl's outfit down onto the bed. "Put this on and be quick about it."

Michelle stood, hands on hips, as she watched Mindy don the dress. The bodice compressed Mindy's boobs but not painfully. When the gingham dress was complemented by calf-length white stockings and red, patent-leather shoes, Mindy looked the ten years old she was supposed to be.

Michelle nodded curtly, then indicated the door. Mindy curtsied, then hastened through the doorway before Michelle could use the whip dangling from her wrist. The young girl felt triumphant, even over such a small point as this. It gave her the psychic lift she needed to face whatever was ahead, whatever hideous things "the professor" held in store for her.

They walked in silence from the hallway until Michelle stopped and pointed. "This is the room. Inside and be quick about it. I'll come for you when the professor leaves."

"Yes, ma'am!" Mindy curtsied again to be rewarded with a stinging slap. Instead of cringing as she had done before, she allowed the barest trace of a smile to dance at the corners of her mouth. Before Michelle could hit her again, Mindy quickly slipped into the room to await the coming of her first patron.

As with all of the other rooms she had seen, this had a distinct and distinctive decor. It appeared to be a cheap hotel room with a moth-eaten rug on the floor, sooty pictures on the wall, unpolished, battered and dilapidated furniture littered about the room. A massive four-poster brass bed dominated the center of the room. Mindy couldn't help but wonder what the professor's trip was that required such tacky surroundings and her portrayal of a little girl.

She soon found out.

The professor entered the room from the other side. Immediately, he told her, "Don't be frightened, little girl. I'm not going to harm you. You've been very brave, and I'm sure you'll enjoy our little party. Do you want some mote candy?"

Mindy quickly pieced together the puzzle. She had supposedly been enticed up to a sleazy hotel room, duped by the use of the time-honored "Want some candy, little girl?" routine.

"Sure, mister. You're nice." Mindy almost laughed when the chunky little man smiled ingratiatingly.

As she reached for the proffered candy, however, the entire scenario took on more ominous overtones. A vise grip seized her wrist and pulled her forward, off balance. Mindy stumbled and fell to her knees, skinning one on the rough, tattered carpet.

"Yes, I'm very nice. I'll give you something you've never had before. I'm going to cram my cock up your tiny, virgin quim. I'm going to make you suck me off I'll fuck you all afternoon. And then, then…"

Before the professor, if he was a professor at all, could continue, Mindy wrenched free of his clutching hand. She stood, then backed away from him. "Look, mister, let's talk about this for a while. Okay?"

"Talk! TALK!" the man shouted. "I want you to beg me for my cock. I want to hear your innocent young lips ask me to fuck you deep into your virgin cunt."

Mindy began edging around the room, the professor following her movement with his eyes like a cobra follows its prey. The man slipped out of his suit coat and dropped it to the floor. As Mindy continued to back away, the man removed one article of clothing after another until he was naked to the waist. His physique surprised Mindy quite a bit. She had expected him to be fat and out of condition; there was a slight roll of flab hanging over his belt, hut her antagonist was mostly hard, compact muscle that rippled and glistened with a dull sheen of sweat.

As the professor pulled off his belt, he quietly, menacingly said, "You're being naughty. You are going to have to be punished if you don't behave." He snapped the leather belt in front of him several times as if testing its resiliency. It was obvious he did not want her to acquiesce to his demands. He enjoyed the pursuit, the denial of his lust. When he forced his attentions on her, this would make the game all the more rewarding for him.

Mindy bolted for the door through which the man had entered the room, hoping it would not be locked. The brief instant she fumbled at the closed door was all the time it took for the short, stocky man to hurry across the room and grab her. When he spun Mindy around, a brief flash of fear illuminated her features.

Seeing that spurred the professor on. His struck out with the belt and landed a sharp blow on the girl's leg. As Mindy turned in an involuntary movement to clutch her injured leg, the professor swung again with his long, broad belt. The rough strap landed squarely on Mindy's jutting butt. She tried to elude the man by crouching, then sliding past him into the room, but the move was unsuccessful.

Another tingling belt-blow landed on her pert ass, warming her. Mindy couldn't understand it, but she fleetingly wondered why this scene was so erotically arousing to her. Every time the professor landed his belt on her rear, tiny pinpricks of delight surged into her crotch and warmed her entire body. The heat seemed to diffuse through the flesh of her rear and burn brightly in her cunt.

Could she actually enjoy such treatment? Was she really being turned on by this whipping?

Mindy didn't have the time for soul-searching and inner reflection on her true desires and needs. The professor trapped her against the rough, paint-chipped wall, a forearm resting on each side of a honey-haired head. For a split second, Mindy's mind saw her father staring into her eyes instead of the round face of the professor. Scared, reliving the rape scene with her father, she struck out with vicious strength fed by revulsion and loathing for her father.

The short man was taken aback by the ferocity and violence of her attack. She clawed and scratched and aimed for his eyes with her fingernails. Mindy's fierce assault was quickly terminated when the man drove a short, powerful punch into her stomach.