Roberta Vickers - Bondage whore

"Good enough for now. I'll let you go back to sucking donkey dicks or whatever you do best. But the next time I want a real youngster. You're far too old for my tastes."

With that, the woman heaved herself off the bed, dressed and left.

Mindy lay on her stomach, silently gagging and fearful of touching the humming vibrator still buried up her asshole. She didn't want to inflict any more damage on herself than had already been done. As the vibrator merrily buzzed away, Mindy's dreams of becoming a permanent member of the staff at The Institute began to evaporate.

Now, she wanted more, far more. She wanted revenge on Michelle for doing this to her.

The vibrator buzzed and quivered and seemed to bore into the very core of Mindy's being. She could not suppress the tears that trickled down her cheeks, nor did she try very hard. The pain in her cunt was excruciating. The blood no longer flowed from her hole in the quantities it had the wounds deep inside her pussy would be clotting over, her body attempting to repair the damage wrought by the white-haired lesbian.

Mindy never heard the door open or Michelle walk in.

"My pretty pretty didn't seem to enjoy this as much. That's such a pity, because I have another patron for you. I'm sure you'll enjoy him much, much more than your last one."

When the leather-clad redhead made no motion to remove the vibrator from her asshole or even turn it off, Mindy sobbed, "You degenerate bitch! One of these days you'll pay for this! I swear it! I swear it!"

The lump that formed in her throat prevented the girl from continuing. She had come to hate Michelle as much as she did her father. In her mind, the two were inexorably linked in the scheme to humiliate and totally degrade her.

How her father could have sold her into slavery in the first place was still something of a mystery. The man was a wastrel, profligate and subhuman. But Michelle was even worse. She seemed to dedicate her life to a career of evil. Dominance and submission were her stock in trade, and was she expert at them! She no longer had to use the whip to force Mindy into bowing to her will. Michelle had adopted more subtle ways, ways that would make it appear the patrons were responsible.

The cold, polar-frigid hatred that formed inside Mindy encompassed both her father and Michelle. But her father could wait. Michelle would be the enraged girl's first target.

How or when wasn't obvious. All that was apparent in the young girl's universe was the damned buzzing and vibrating of the imitation prick cruelly rammed up her asshole.

Michelle said, "My pretty pretty just isn't grateful to me. That's such a pity, too, because I have another patron coming in less than an hour whom I am sure you will truly enjoy."

Only then did the woman flick off the switch on the vibrator, but the way she withdrew the instrument from its tight surroundings was as painful as the white-haired woman's insertion. Mindy winced but had regained enough control not to say anything. She was determined to take whatever Michelle could dish out, remember each and every atrocity, then repay her at some future date. With interest. Lots of interest.

"Come along and we'll get you cleaned up far our dear Laurence. He's such a sweet man, I'm sure you'll love him immensely. And he has such a droll sense of humor." Mindy's skin erupted in goosebumps at the tone of Michelle's voice. It possessed a leer, a sneering quality that told the battered girl that this Laurence man was going to be even worse than the white-haired dyke.

Mindy's mind refused to imagine how such a thing could be possible.

Michelle supported Mindy back to the girl's cell, then left her with instructions to be ready for her next patron in forty-five minutes. Mindy took a quick shower, the feel of water jetting across her tortured genitals soothing and relaxing. The bleeding from her cunt had stopped; Mindy hoped the damage was not serious because nothing had been said of bringing in a doctor to check her. She had ghastly visions of bleeding to death, her bed a veritable swimming pool of blood, her dead body soaked in the red fluids that poured from her cunt.

She hadn't been told what to wear, but one thing was immediately apparent. She would not be able to tolerate ordinary panties. The slight scraping of even satin or silk across her cuntlips was sheer agony. Mindy searched through her dresser drawers until she found a pair of crotchless panties made from nylon tricot. Even these felt peculiar, irritating, but it was far better than the self-inflicted anguish of regular underwear.

Dressed in a short plaid skirt and a simple black blouse that was semitransparent, she waited for Michelle to return. As she waited, she thought. Hard.

Her imprisonment had been pleasant for a few weeks. Now it was turning into unbearable abuse again. Mindy had been seeing a patron only once every other day; today she'd survived through one patron, and another was coming up in a very few minutes. Could she expect to meet still another after this ominous-sounding Laurence creature? Was Michelle out to kill her?

The possibility existed. Mindy had slowly wrested power from the leather-clad, whip-toting guardian, and Michelle resented it immensely. Mindy could not see how she could regain the upper hand as long as she was a mere inmate and Michelle was a guardian.

That must change.

Mindy thought furiously and could not devise a plan that seemed halfway feasible. That left only her escape route through the wall. One block had been removed. The chipping away of another three blocks, which would be easier than breaching the wall for the first time, was all it would take. She could slip out one night and vanish. The sound of the nearby ocean meant that a highway had to be within walking distance. She could hitchhike – even remembering where that had gotten her the last time she had tried it – and get the hell away from The Institute and Michelle.

Yet that didn't seem quite right. It cheated her of revenge on Michelle.

The imprisoned girl had no further time to ponder her situation. Michelle came strutting into the cell, a wide, evil smile splashed across her face. Mindy didn't have to ask what the smile meant; it could only mean more pain for her.

"My pretty pretty is oh, so pretty! Come now, we simply must not keep our friend Laurence waiting. He is such a special patron with such special tastes that I'm sure you'll find him to be amusing."

Michelle pointed to the door in an imperious manner, her entire attitude changed from that which she had exhibited before sending Mindy in to the lesbian with the penchant for young girls and domination.

Mindy reluctantly crawled off the bed and started down the hallway. The pair said nothing, but Mindy imagined she could hear Michelle humming a tune as they went. They stopped in front of a door, a portal totally unlike any of the others Mindy had seen at The Institute.

This door reminded her of old prison movies she had seen. It was painted a dull green just like the door into the execution chambers in penitentiaries. She couldn't help herself. She trembled visibly.

Michelle noticed and smirked. "So you realize this is a special room, eh? Well, my pretty pretty, this is what we call the kennel club."

"Inside!" With that, Michelle pushed Mindy through the door, then slammed and loudly locked it behind the girl.

Frightened eyes surveyed the room.

It was as if this were her first day, and she was unnerved and expecting anything to happen. From the apparatus strewn around the cold, barren room. Mindy began to wonder just what might happen to her. There was a rough-hewn wood platform resting against the wall. Mindy quickly amended that appraisal; it wasn't so much a platform as some kind of brace on rollers. It was in the form of a cross. She shuddered, thinking about the position she would be forced in if chained to that ugly thing.