Roberta Vickers - Bondage whore

"Well, my pretty pretty, I see you've eaten. I have a special treat for you. Two of our patrons have decided that they want someone new. They want to try something different." The way Michelle said that sounded lewd to Mindy.

But Mindy didn't bat an eye. She just stared, glacially cold green eyes meeting flaming violet ones.

"How should I dress for this special occasion?"

Mindy's tone indicated she couldn't care less about what was done to her.

"My pretty pretty is learning. Your clothing is satisfactory. These patrons don't really care about how the merchandise is wrapped… as long as what's under the outer cover is exciting enough for jaded palates. Come!"

Mindy reluctantly pulled herself erect on the bed, then heaved off the mattress on to her feet. She wondered how many of the other inmates had to put up with Michelle and her dildo, then the professor and two more patrons after supper, all in one day.

Mindy suspected this was some scheme of Michelle's to break her spirit, possibly to make her beg for the filthy rubber cock again. She wouldn't let this get to her; she'd show Michelle and everyone surreptitiously observing her at The Institute that she was made of stem stuff. She wouldn't break. She'd break them first.

Or even better, she'd make a break for freedom. And possibly be the very first to ever escape the clutches of these evil people.

Mindy allowed the leather-clad woman to lead her to another room, this one a gorgeously furnished bedroom. The furniture seemed to pale into insignificance because of the monstrous circular bed in the center of the room. Mindy estimated the diameter of the bed to be at least eight feet, perhaps as much as ten feet. It would accommodate not a couple but a dozen people. She idly wondered if this was to be the scene this time; a dozen people fondling each other and fucking anyone who came close enough.

However, that didn't seem like the sort of thing the clientele of The Institute would enjoy. It lacked anonymity and that seemed to be the single overriding consideration in all of the encounters. Thinking back to the professor, Mindy had to admit rather ruefully that she didn't really remember that much about his appearance. If forced to pick someone from a line, she'd probably fail.

And the man Michelle claimed to be a senator and the other woman with a penchant for young girls… Mindy couldn't remember very much at all about them. Her shock had still not yet worn off to the point where she could study her surroundings.

Mindy vaguely wondered if the shock would ever truly leave her.

"My pretty pretty will just stay here, then do whatever the nice men want you to do." Michelle leered slightly as she left.

The girl took a quick look around the wall and thought she could positively locate the ubiquitous one-way mirror. It dominated the area immediately behind the bed, if a circular bed can be said to have direction. Ostensibly placed for the gratification of the fucking patrons, Mindy suspected that Michelle now lounged behind the glass, possibly with a drink in one hand, and waited for the show to begin.

Mindy wasn't going to disappoint her. She'd give that leather-clad bitch the greatest spectacle ever witnessed by modern man!

The dull click of a door opening caught Mindy's attention. She turned and faced the two men entering the room. Both were in their late twenties, neither could be older than early thirties. Mindy smiled a little and decided she might enjoy this. Both men weren't that bad-looking. In fact, the one with the black hair had a subtle sexiness about him that insinuated itself into the girl's mind and did things to her libido.

Not that the blond and blue-eyed guy was ugly. He had a rugged, weathered look about him, as if he spent many hours outdoors in the harsh winds of the mountains. He was obviously a man accustomed to working with his hands rather than shuffling papers in some air-conditioned office.

The black-haired man spoke, his words coming from his mouth like snails crawling. "Goddamn, Woodie, I don't believe it! Look at 'er!"

Woodie, the blond giant, spoke in that same strange molasses speech. "I told you this was a high-class place. They always have first-rate chicks here. Always."

Mindy inhaled deeply when the pair approached her. Although she had never smoked marijuana, she recognized the odor. Many of her friends had smoked dope in the girls' restroom at school, but she had been paranoid about getting caught.

The girl knew all the symptoms, though. These two men were stoned out of their heads.

"Hey, Jeff, give the girl a light. She doesn't have any matches."

The dark-haired man fumbled for a moment, then said, "Hell, she doesn't even have a number." He rummaged in his pockets again and pulled out a yellow cylinder curiously twisted together at the ends. "Here you go, doll."

Jeff thrust the joint out to Mindy. She hesitated, then decided to go ahead. All her friends had told her how great it was, how grass improved sex. She doubted it, but maybe getting blasted out of her mind before things began would let her just lean back and accept whatever came her way.

"Go on, give 'er a light." Woodie slurred his words together, then carefully sat on the bed. He bounced a few times, then cried in glee, "Hey, man, this is just like riding on an ocean liner! I can feel waves sloshing back and forth and everything."

Jeff pulled out an ornate, extremely expensive lighter and spun the wheel. The flame leaped out, and Mindy cautiously stuck the tip of the joint into the fire. She coughed as she inhaled, and both men laughed.

She inhaled again, this time getting the hang of not swallowing the smoke but forcing it down into her lungs. She kept puffing on the yellow-papered joint but felt nothing except the warm feeling of the heated smoke in her lungs. Mindy tried to offer it to her two companions, but they steadfastly refused.

"No thanks. Had enough to get off how do you like the wheat straw papers? Can't hardly find them around here, here in the middle of the dope capital of the world."

Mindy asked, as casually as possible; "Where's that?"

"Huh? Here! You know, here in L.A."

Woodie began unfastening his shirt, his coordination faulty at times but adequate for the task. "Let's cut the chatter, you two. I want to fuck. Why we come here, you know?"

"Right!" agreed Jeff; and he, too, began peeling off his clothes.

Mindy watched them, noticing the quality of their clothing. It appeared to be cheap denim but the labels indicated otherwise. Whoever these two were, they had lots of money. Seeing this convinced Mindy that her keeper and self proclaimed guardian had been correct when she said that The Institute only catered to the highest class of people. And the wealthiest, at that.

The two men were soon naked, but Mindy was still fully clothed. Jeff began to protest, "Hey, kid, get out of those clothes… those clothes, hear that? I made a rhyme!"

"Yeah, and I want to make some great rhymes with her!" Woodie seemed to have one thing on his mind, and that was fucking.

Mindy didn't feel any effect of the dope on her body yet. She had smoked the entire joint, holding the fumes in her lungs like she'd been told at school. But nothing had happened. Maybe she was a freak and couldn't get high on the stuff like everyone else seemed to. She didn't care. She decided to lead these two potheads a merry chase and have some fun doing it.

As she rose to her feet, Mindy felt the room spin around her. Legs turned to rubber, and when she tried to speak, all she could do was giggle.

Woodie smiled broadly and said, "Dope's getting to her. Come on, Jeff, let's help our little doll out of her rags."

The two naked, stoned men advanced on her, and Mindy could only watch and giggle. The sight of the stark-naked men struck her as uproarious. The two were well-hung and their pricks dangled and bobbed between their legs as they came after her.