Roberta Vickers - Bondage whore

There was always tomorrow. Tomorrow they'd have the time for a good fuck. He looked at Mindy, an angel with a golden halo fluttering around her head, then honked his horn and keyed his Chevy into roaring life.

Mindy watched Bill race down the street and stood in the chill night air for a few minutes after he had turned the corner and vanished from her sight. She did not want to go into the house, and possibly face her father. Her mother was bad enough, taking several handfuls of pills a day. Mindy didn't believe for one minute they were the vitamin pills her mother claimed they looked too much like the hideous red things that Mickey Links at school was always trying to force on her. She'd seen what the downers did to him; she knew what they were doing to her mother.

Mostly her mother either wandered around in a drugged daze or was asleep, dead to the world. But her father and his boozing intruded more and more into her personal little world. He had been almost unbearable this past month. It was ironic how she had found happiness with Bill, only to be plagued with increasingly difficult parental problems.

Mindy tried the doorknob and found that it rotated easily. Since it was not locked, this could only mean her father was waiting up for her. If she were lucky, he might have passed out and she could sneak into her bedroom and avoid the ugly scene until morning.

As she silently slipped into the darkened house, Mindy knew her luck had left her when Bill drove away.

"Where the hell have you been?" her father roared. The teenager could tell immediately that Larry LaFarge was extremely drunk and not a little bit mean.

"You know, Daddy. I was with Bill."

"Yeah, you was with Bill, probably letting him fuck you cross-eyed."

"Daddy!" Mindy was incensed. "Lower your voice or you'll wake up Mother."

"Don't go giving me advice, you little slut! Daisy's on her Goddamn pills again, and nothing short of an atomic bomb's gonna wake her up. Even if it did, she wouldn't know what was going on."

Mindy tried to sidle by her father and gain the sanctuary of her small bedroom. It wasn't much of a refuge, but it was better than cowering before her drunken father out in the hallway.

Larry made a grab for the girl's shoulder, spun her around to face his alcoholic breath and said, "Answer me! You been out there on the street screwin' in that flashy car?"

Her father's cruel grip crushed her upper arm. Mindy felt a tearing in her gut, a cold, icy feeling forming in the pit of her stomach as she replied, "That's none of your business. And what if I have? I'm old enough!"

"Old enough, hell! You're only a teenager. All you kids think of these days are dope and sex, dope and sex…"

"Good night."

He refused to release her arm. With the suddenness of a liquor-fired rage, he began to shake her until Mindy's teeth jarred together.

"Look at the way you're dressed! That tight blouse and no bra underneath, your belly showing and those jeans! Jesus H. Christ, girl! Every time you move in those things, your ass wiggles."

Mindy began to tremble slightly. Her father's mood was different from the last time. The previous time this had occurred, he'd slapped her once or twice, then had been content to let her go to bed. This time, the way he looked at her was almost obscene. It was as if he were ripping her clothes off her lithe, young body and exposing her, naked and quivering, for his own kicks.

"Please! Let me go!" Mindy yanked back, attempting to free herself from her father's punishing grip. She only managed to smash bruisingly into the wall. If is powerful hand tightened even more on her arm, making the girl wince in pain.

"You'll go when I tell you! Just look at you! You're just asking to get fucked. The way your jugs swing back and forth, your bouncing little ass."

Larry LaFarge groped down with a dirt encrusted hand and closed his paw over Mindy's right tit. The girl tried to back up, but the wall refused to budge an inch. She was trapped.

"Daddy! Stop! Please!" A note of hysteria crept into her voice. She no longer felt she was in control of the situation, and now began to worry about what might happen to her.

"Yeah, you little tramp. Beg me. Beg your old man for it! You beg Bill for his cock?" The liquor-slurred voice seemed to retreat, become distant, as Mindy's mind slipped out of gear. She was aware of all that was happening, but it was as if her brain refused to comprehend, as if she were watching a movie with the complete and total detachment of an observer. She was detached, clinical, nothing more.

Filthy hand still clutching at her boobs, Larry released his hold on Mindy's arm and reached down to fumble with his fly. Mindy glanced down fearfully, and saw the telltale bulge at her father's crotch. She watched the broken-finger nailed hand painstakingly run the zipper down its track to reveal a swollen, purplish-red cock jerking and pulsing with its lewd longing to be embedded in warm, juicy cunt.

"You like that, huh? Well, you little bitch, you're gonna get it. Every singe inch of it!"

The alcoholic stupor did nothing to hinder Mindy's father in his single minded pursuit of a fuck. Locked in her timeless limbo, Mindy couldn't say how long it took her father to kick free of his dirty jeans. The girl's entire universe centered in her right tit where Larry LaFarge held her captive.

Whiskey-sodden breath gusting in her face, Mindy closed her eyes and turned her head to one side as the man began untying the large knot that held her blouse together in the front. She felt his callused hands coursing over her smooth stomach, scratching and furrowing her tender young skin. When her blouse flopped open; Larry gasped out, "Jesus fuckin' Christ! What a set of knockers!"

His face descended to nuzzle between the twin peaks jutting from Mindy's chest. She shivered involuntarily as the rough stubble of his three-day old beard moved against the slopes of her tits. When he discovered the pink nipples cresting the snowy mountains of tit flesh, he began slurping and licking with obscene fervor. In spite of herself, Mindy felt the stirrings of arousal creeping into her crotch. She didn't want her drunken father doing this awful thing to her, yet her wanton body was betraying her.

Her mind refused to cope with her predicament, and she retreated even further into the defensive shell she had erected around her consciousness.

Larry's drooling lips surged over Mindy's left tit, then her right, leaving behind trickling trails of saliva. The young girl's breath came faster and faster, and blood began to pump into her nipples. The erectile tissue grew with frightening rapidity that only added fuel to the erotic flames of Larry LaFarge's lust for his nubile daughter.

The skin-tight material of her pants annoyed the man. He wanted to feel real flesh! He slipped his hands under the waistband of the jeans and gave a mighty yank, ripping the thin, fragile cloth on both sides. Mindy sobbed silently, her jugs swaying to and fro in the dimly lit hallway.

But it was not her boobs that Larry now lustfully ogled. He saw the widening circular patch of cunt juice on Mindy's panties. "Goddamn slut! You do want my cock in you, don't you?"

The girl could only sob, "No! No! No!" over and over, but her pleas fell on lust-deafened ears. The man was like a racehorse sighting the finish line. He raced on with increasing deftness that belied his drunkenness.

"Well, baby, you're gonna get it balls deep!"

With that declaration, Larry ripped off the girl's panties. She stood, pinned against the wall, whitely naked save for the blouse that fluttered loosely about her shoulders.

Her father slammed the numb girl hard against the wall with his body. Mindy smelled the cloying mixture of liquor, stale sweat and animal cravings as his body rubbed suggestively against hers. She kept her eyes tightly closed and head averted. It was bad enough experiencing the sensations her body was transmitting to her brain without being forced to witness the lewd act.