Cindy: The Professor's Bane Ch. 02

"Go on, tell me." Her hands peeled back her miniskirt so that it rested above her hips, her bald cunt lips and supple inner thighs only a forearm's length away from Johnson's mouth.

"Please," he said, not having the words. Her strong scent made him salivate.

She reached her arm up and tilted her head back as she ran her fingers through her silky hair--pulling it back off her forehead. God, she was built to get fucked.

"Beg me, and maybe you'll get it." Finally, she snaked her hand down across her flat navel and started fingering herself.

"I want to fuck you." If this is what it was going to take, he couldn't restrain himself anymore.

"Be specific, Professor." Her eyes looked up from her pussy, staring into his. She stuffed a finger into herself, and stretched open her lips in front of him.

"I. . . ." He didn't know what she wanted. He didn't care anymore. "I want to fuck my cock into you, you fucking slut!"

She bit her bottom lip in a sigh of obvious pleasure, and closed her up-cast eyes as she pulled her finger back out of her tight cunt. It was slick with her pussy juice. She got off on control--it was the only explanation for all of this he could think of, but there was something else in her eyes. He didn't understand it.

"Hmm. I don't know. I'm not sure a pathetic Slick Prick like you deserves a cute slut like me." She held her wet finger in front of his mouth. "Open up. Show me how much you like me."

He willingly opened his mouth, and Cindy slid her shiny finger down his tongue. Johnson tasted the salty juice, freshly extracted from her ripe twat. He felt like a simple minded, salivating dog as his mouth closed around her sticky finger. When she finally slipped it out of his mouth, Johnson leaned sideways without thinking--following her finger with his tongue, wanting to taste her juice directly from the source.

"No. Nah, uh. You little hungry doggy!" She grabbed the back of his hair and pulled him back upright. Her other hand reached down and grabbed his balls over the thin scarf that clung to his cock. "Bad boy! You don't do that."

Cindy's grip on his balls was just hard enough that he didn't dare move. She pulled his hair back hard--hovering her face over his. "You want to get spanked again?" Her lips closed and her mouth worked behind them; she let a glob of her spit drop out onto the tip of his nose. It ran down onto his cheek as she released his hair.

His hands were still stuffed behind him. He felt completely worthless--a slut's slave. Finally, she released his balls and sat back on the arm of the couch, leaving his shaft once again exposed as the scarf bunched around his sack.

"Now, are you going to be good?"

Johnson was insane with need. He wanted to touch himself.

"Can I touch my cock?" He couldn't believe he was asking permission.

"I don' t know," she teased.

"Fuck! Please. Jesus. Can I just touch my cock, Cindy?"

"Well, only if you want to a be a pathetic cock-jerker like you were last night. You might get some fresh pussy if you can be a good boy, though."

He exhaled violently. "Fuck!" He was a slave to the moment. He felt her wet spit slithering down his cheek. He kept his hands where they were.

"Do you want to taste some more, Professor?"

"Yes," was all he could muster.

"Then tell me what you want. Tell me what you'd like to do to me right now. Don't be bashful." Her finger had returned to her pussy, stuffed between the moist folds, gathering more sex juice for her "slick prick" to eat. He helplessly watched her finger disappear.

"I want. . . ." His mind was alive with overlapping images of brutal, hair-pulling, cock-stuffing revenge. He could hold back no more.

"I want to stuff my cock into you. I want to spank you and teach you a fucking lesson. I want to pull your hair and rape your tiny ass hole. I want to skull fuck you and pump my cum down your little throat. Specific enough for you, you fucking bitch!"

"Oh, gosh." Her finger slowly slipped in and out of her wet cunt as she fucked herself. Her head dropped backwards as she exhaled. He could see her curly hair tickling against her upper back. She was so hot--obviously struggling to maintain control. He didn't know if she was turned on by what he was saying or simply because she was making him say it.

"Hmmm," she said, seeming to will her mind back to the task at hand as her blue eyes once again met his. "Pretty big talk, little doggy. She removed her shiny finger again and held it in front of his spittled face. He opened his mouth with uneven breaths. Once again, Cindy rubbed her wet finger all over his lips and across the bumpy surface of his tongue. His slurping and suckling had a humiliating desperation about it as Cindy literally fed her bitch-juice to Johnson.

"Beg me."

"Pwleesz. . ." Cindy's finger probed his mouth.

"Please what, Professor? Do you want to fuck a slut?" she said in her best innocent little girl voice. She slid her other hand across her navel and teasingly lifted up her green sheer top. Grabbing the stretchy tube top material, she popped it upward, finally revealing her bare breast. Her small nipple was erect and pointed straight at him.

"Tell me," Her finger slipped from his mouth to retrieve more pussy juice from the sopping honey-pot between her legs.

"I want to. . . I want to fuck a slut." Johnson couldn't believe he was saying these things to her, but at this point, he didn't care anymore.

"Good boy," she praised him like a puppy. "Beg me, Slick Prick." She stuffed another finger full of her juice into his mouth. The thick, salty liquid washed into his mouth and slid down his throat. His attention had wandered to her perfect, exposed tit jutting out from under the strip of stretchy material that once covered it. Her blonde hair danced across her shoulder; her tongue absent-mindedly rubbed her glossy lips, once again driving him mad with her own wicked arousal.

"I want to fuck. Please." God he wanted to take her. He wanted to grab her legs, force her onto her back, and fuck his unrelenting tormentor into complete submission. "God, please. . ." he whispered, out of his head with single-minded lust. "Please!"

"Okay!" Cindy defiantly shook herself out of her own daze, and once again displayed her bubbly demeanor. Instead of jumping on top of him, she quickly covered her small breast back up and closed her legs.

"Yay, the naughty Professor likes the sluts!" She looked at her prey brightly. "I knew it!" She was obviously very excited as she bounced in front of Johnson--a once charming and powerful man who had been reduced to begging, wearing a shirt that basically proclaimed him as Cindy's sex toy. "Come on, Mister Johnson, let's go open your present!" she giggled.

Johnson felt intoxicated. "Please, Cindy, stop this." He didn't seem to be in is own senses. Cindy's musky scent was still heavy in the air. Her sticky girl-juice coated the inside of his mouth and tongue, slithering down into his throat like the ultimate teenage date-rape drug. He couldn't help but think of her as a young, teasing bitch in heat. He could see the effort it took for her to remain focused on her task--whatever that ultimately was. Her taste in his mouth somehow made him feel all the more like her property.

"Please, stop, Cindy."

- - - -

"Here you go, Professor!" Cindy flung the door of the crate in the garage wide open. He could hear her giggling distantly at him as he simply stared, open mouthed, at the contents of the box.

To be continued. . .