Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Author: Torx73 / MLyons
Title: Cindy - The Professor's Bane
Part: Chapter 3 of 5
Summary: Cindy forces Professor Johnson to fuck his brand new little
slut.  Themes of reverse objectification and humiliation abound.
Keywords: MF, M~doll, Mdom, Fdom, blackmail, revenge, humil, va, coll,
nc, bd, sm, sp



   (C) 2004 by MLyons / Torx73

   Author's Note: The following story and the characters within it are
purely products of my imagination, and they are meant to be enjoyed only as
a fantasy.  Any similarity to real people or events is unintentional.

   Reproduction of this story is permitted, as long as no charge is made
for its access, and it remains unaltered with all disclaimers and
authorship information intact.

   Synopsis of Chapter 2: Johnson received a large wooden crate, and
watched the videotape that Cindy gave him as homework.  It was the last
tape he'd made of Sarah Jennings, 10 years previous.  The purpose of him
having to watch the tape was unclear to Johnson.  Cindy finally arrived,
and more turn-the-tables humiliation was in the cards for the Professor,
along with a long bout of cock-teasing dress up games where Cindy's method
to her madness started to take shape.  Finally, desperate to fuck after
having been ruthlessly teased and denied all evening, Johnson was allowed
to open his present.

   Chapter 3

   Stephen Johnson stared into the stout wooden crate in his garage. 
Inside, slouched onto a wooden shelf, was a lifeless female figure strapped
into place in the box.  It was a doll.  It was one of the most life-like
dolls he'd ever seen, but it was a doll nonetheless.  It might have fooled
him into thinking that it was meant for display as a mannequin in a shop if
it wasn't for the slightly parted lips of its rubber mouth, the tip of its
flat tongue peaking out from behind them, and the fancy paper card that was
pinned to its tank top.  The flowery handwriting was now all too familiar.

   'Professor Johnson's Little Slut'

   "Do you like her Professor?" Cindy asked happily.  "Don't you want to
fuck her?" She squinted her delicate eyes with the word for emphasis.

   Johnson was speechless.  His mind reeled with a combination of desperate
lust and self-loathing.  He was at once a lump of clay to be used, and a
taut spring ready to snap.

   Cindy approached the doll giddily.  "See!" she gushed with excitement as
the doll's malleable tit reacted authentically to Cindy's mauling fingers.

   "Don't you like her boobies, Professor?" Cindy couldn't contain her
excitement.  "How about this mouth," her finger pushed down on the doll's
bottom lip revealing its waiting silicone tongue.  "Do you like her tongue,
Professor?  Don't you want her to lick your dick for you?" Cindy's face was
glowing with a wide-eyed energy.  It strangely softened the Professor's
heart, even as his humiliation deepened.

   "I'll bet she'll suck your cock if you ask her." Cindy was saying as the
Professor continued to stare at the doll.  It was dressed sexily, with a
printed white tube top, a pair of skimpy shorts, and some understated high
heels.

   Cindy grabbed one of the doll's articulated hands and stuffed it into
its shorts as if it was diddling its clit underneath.  Given the way the
doll moved, it seemed to boast of an anatomically correct skeleton
underneath its soft silicone exterior.  "See, she's already horny for you!"

   Johnson just felt more debased.  As he stared, stunned, at this
meticulously crafted concoction of silicone and steel, it was now becoming
clear to him that she was going to make him fuck the doll, and she was
going to watch.  He hated himself for it, but the deepest cut of all was
that his over-teased cock was ready to take what it could get.  The blonde
teenager's tangy pussy juice still lingered in his mouth, sticking to the
sides of his cheeks and seeping into the taste buds on his tongue.  Images
of the tiny capillaries in Cindy's smooth inner thighs, and the wispy hairs
on her slender forearms still lingered in his mind.  He wanted to ravage
her--to pick her up, throw her on the floor and pork her teasing cunt in a
way that befitted her whorish outfit.  He worried that before too long,
even her threats of prison might not be enough to stop him.

   "Well?" Cindy had bounced her way over to Johnson.  Her necklace,
plainly displaying the word "Skank" in gold letters, jingled around her
neck.  She looked up at him.  "Don't you like her?" Her eager blue eyes
captured his, begging not to be disappointed.

   Johnson finally mustered a little self-awareness.  He closed his gaping
mouth, and looked back at the grinning young teenager--stunned.

   "Cindy, I. . ." he didn't know what to say.

   "Aww, poor Professor," Cindy pouted at him, looking down at his
shameless erection.  "You're so cute.  You're like a horny little puppy."
She shifted her legs underneath her.  "Gosh Professor, I'm pretty wet too,
huh?" Cindy reached down and placed her hand in front of her mini-skirt. 
She looked into his eyes and with a deliberate motion, pushed inward,
stretching the material up and between her luscious thighs, rubbing it
against her bare pussy underneath.  She shifted her hand and spread her
legs slightly, and although Johnson couldn't see it, he could imagine her
wet lips spreading and stretching as she used the front of her skirt to
wipe them off.

   "Geez," she sighed with obvious, conflicted pleasure as her eyes
fluttered closed.  Her head floated back on her shoulders as her hand
worked a few passes over her hidden slit.  "What the heck?" she whispered
almost inaudibly, betraying a kind of surprise and frustration with
herself--as if she'd forgotten he was there.  Her eyes slowly opened once
again and focused on Johnson, whose gaze was locked on the hypnotically
expressive girl.

   She bit her bottom lip in a mischievous grin, seeming to know what
Johnson wanted before he did.  "Here you go, little puppy." Her hand
released the tension on the material and she knelt by the waist, allowing
her ass to stretch her miniskirt.  His eyes fixated on her butt and
lingered downward along the bare small of her back to her sheer blouse, and
her thin black tube top underneath.  His gaze focused on her glistening
fingers as she lowered her hand only inches from the floor of Johnson's
garage.

   "Come on little puppy.  Come on."

   It was humiliating how desperate he was to taste her again.  He dropped
his bare knees to the concrete floor.  He wished he had been able to see
the crack of the freshman's ass as her cheeks strained against her
miniskirt.  His cock screamed for her dripping twat.

   "Come on, you horny little puppy.  All the way down." The back of
Cindy's hand rested against the garage floor, her juice slicked fingers
wiggling at him.  Johnson dropped to his hands and passed her flushed face
as he abjected himself in front of her.  He seethed with hateful
helplessness.  "Go on," she whispered.  He longed to feel her nose poking
against the scratchy, shaved skin of his ball sack as he splayed the slut
on her back at his kitchen table and gag-fucked her.  The unmerciful images
of retaliatory grudge fucking would not give his filthy mind any peace. 
The dangling gold letters of her necklace glittered at him.

   Finally, Johnson enveloped her sticky finger with his mouth, once again
tasting her fresh juice.  Cindy tittered above him.  She removed her finger
from his mouth and quickly stood back upright, positioning her strappy
slut-heel only inches from his face.

   "While you're down there, Professor. . ." the smooth skin of her foot
was buckled tightly into place.  He could see the thin straps crisscrossing
her calves and tied off just below the knee as his eyes continued upward.

   Peeking out from the outline of her miniskirt, partially obscured in
shadow, was Cindy's bald twat.  He felt sickeningly subservient to it, his
face now lingering just above his student's foot.  Her slit glistened from
the light that the skirt allowed through to illuminate it.  With a defiant
will, he broke off his gaze at her pouty cunt and looked to her face.  The
tiny blonde seemed to tower above him.  He could smell her aroma radiating
from under her damp skirt, and the lingering taste of her juice on his
tongue made his body shudder.  He was frantic with the desire to teach the
cock-teasing princess her proper place.

   "Why don't you show me your place, little doggy." She wiggled her foot
under his lips.  Cindy's hair dangled in front of her shoulder and beside
her cheek as she stared down into his eyes, breathing shakily through her
mouth.  Johnson could detect a shuddering in her thighs, an unsteadiness
that betrayed her raw sexual energy.

   Johnson's mixture of humiliation and hunger for this sweet slut above
him was confusing and overpowering.  He wanted to taste her skin, even if
he was meant to lick her slut-heels to do it.  He buckled his elbows and
brushed his tongue along her smooth foot.

   "Good, boy." Cindy whispered above him.  "Unbuckle them with your
teeth."

   Johnson tasted her clean skin on his tongue, and his cock was as hard as
ever.  He longed to use her, to get his brutal satisfaction, even as he
slid his tongue along the leather encasing her foot.  He ran his teeth
across the buckle of her shoe and pulled the strap loose.  The buckle
released.

   "Good, now use your teeth and untie my legs, you dirty foot licker." Her
oppressive calves sprouted upward above him, and he felt as small as a
mouse underneath her.  His tongue slid upward along the straps and skin
below her knees.

   His mind imagined that he was licking her face from chin to eyebrow,
slopping his saliva over her pretty features so that it dripped down her
cheeks.  He imagined pinning her thin arms down as his dick slipped in and
out of her abused slut-hole, not allowing her to wipe the spit off her
face.

   He savored the taste of her salty flesh as he desperately yearned for
both sexual release, and freedom from her humiliating tyranny.

   "Professor, don't you want to fuck?" Cindy's playful voice floated above
him.

   He wanted to ignore her.  He knew what she wanted, and he didn't want to
give it to her.  His teeth grasped the tiny strap just below her knee, tied
into a tight bow.  He pulled and it released, and at once the straps
imprisoning her calf were loosened, the pattern of them still etched into
her tight flesh.

   "Help me out of it, Professor," ordered Cindy.  "And you haven't
answered me yet.  Don't you want to fuck her?"

   Johnson raised his hands and pulled down on the straps as Cindy raised
her foot out of the complicated shoe.  Once again he caught a taunting
glimpse of her petulant cunt lips above him.

   "Don't you think she's pretty?  Come on, suck on my toes and beg me,
Professor." She held her red polished toes only inches from his mouth.

   Johnson could no longer deny his needs.  "Please." he said finally, as
his girl-hungry lips enclosed Cindy's middle toe.

   "Please, what?"

   "Please, let me fuck her." Johnson couldn't believe he was saying it. 
His tongue slipped over her nail polished toes, sliding between them, as he
savored the sweaty taste.  The disgusting mental image he had of himself at
this moment was mortifying.

   "You mean your dolly, Professor?" Cindy giggled as she wriggled her toes
inside Johnson's drooling mouth.  "Come on, beg me for it, little Slick
Prick." He could hear the girlish grin through her voice.

   "Please, let me fuck my dolly." He hated the words.  The images of a
desperate man, forced to masturbate himself inside a horrendously expensive
sex doll stabbed at his brain.

   "Yay!" Cindy praised as if she'd just successfully potty trained him. 
She guided his head down with her toes so that he was sucking them as her
heel rested on the concrete floor.  "I'm not sure I should let you, you
filthy horn-dog!" She yanked her foot from his mouth and quickly stepped on
the side of his head, bringing his face in direct contact with the cement
below.  Her saliva-slicked toes tickled against his ear.  His knees ached;
his ass thrust in the air behind him.  His straining eyes once again traced
along her perfect leg curves all the way up to the shadowy outline of her
juicy pussy.  Johnson was once again made to ask for what Cindy wanted.

   "C'mon.  Beg."

   "Please," he said, his lips squeezed together, trapped between Cindy's
soft foot and the garage floor, "Let me fuck my dolly."

   How much more of this was he going to have to take?

   "Well, I don't know, Professor." Her bare foot still resting on his
face, Cindy bent down to release her other leg from the confines of its
sexy heel.  He could see her fingers manipulating the buckle as her sole
pressed against his cheek.  His status as her footrest was revolting to
him, yet his cock raged, bobbing below his belly.  He wanted to jack it
off, or cut it off.

   She finally released Johnson's head from underfoot and slipped her other
leg out of the loosened shoe.  "Take your dolly into the living room for
me, and put her on the couch.  I need to visit the little girl's room one
more time." She looked down at his dusty face and shook her finger at him
with a playful sternness.  "Now, Professor, don't you dare cum without me.
You just bring her over and sit next to her while you wait for me." She
giggled, "Maybe you could whisper sweet nothings into her ear while you
slip off her pretty clothes."

   Suddenly her cute features brightened with a revelation.  "Wait, I know
what you'll like, Professor!" her gaze settled on the limp straps of the
heeled shoe Johnson had removed with his teeth.  "Since she is your little
slut, why don't you dress her up just like one of your students?  Make her
wear these." She smiled as she kicked the lazy straps of the shoe into his
face.  "God that'll be hot!  " she decided, bouncing above his sickeningly
obedient form like a giddy child.  She clapped her hands adorably, "You'll
have the rest of her outfit in a jif.  Don't go anywhere now!" She had an
air of innocent fun that gave no indication of what she was capable of.

   Cindy darted off into the bathroom, and Johnson, with his anguished
hard-on, grudgingly began un-strapping his silicone sex-date from her box.

   - - - -

   The physical exertion of carrying the unwieldy sex doll into his living
room had allowed Johnson to recover some of his lucidity.  The combination
of his own endorphins and Cindy's potent pheromones had kept him off
balance and in a haze of arousal and debasement.  He was still desperate to
fuck.  His nerves were raw, and he'd long since given up hope of knowing
what Cindy ultimately wanted from him.  Perhaps it was to be this kind of
sexual torture of denial indefinitely--but why?  Perhaps he did deserve
this.  Perhaps he deserved worse, but even if he did, the most mysterious
question of them all plagued his mind: who was Cindy, really?

   She was clearly not to be underestimated.  She'd had this doll waiting
in storage for months.  There were careful plans behind her eyes, as well
as anger--and sadness.  It frightened him.  She had him by the balls.  One
thing was certain.  Underneath her beautifully cute, happy-go-lucky persona
was a selfish, ruthless girl with what seemed to be a boundless sexual
energy.  What's more, her constantly wet pussy seemed to be fueled directly
by his humiliation.  Her sensual reactions to his most debasing moments
were nerve racking, and yet so disgustingly exciting.  His internal
conflicts played into her hands, and somehow, instinctively, she knew it.

   He had followed orders and undressed the sex doll, although he had
omitted Cindy's suggestion of whispering sweet nothings.  He hadn't had a
chance to put Cindy's heels on the doll before she finally came out of the
bathroom.  His sex-saturated senses were once again assaulted with another
of her archetypal fuck-fantasy images.

   Cindy stood outside the door of the hall bathroom.  She bit the nail of
her little finger as she grinned at him in a completely congruent gesture
of innocence befitting her new outfit.  Her hair was now tied back into two
tight pigtails.  She wore a round collared, white button up shirt with
hemmed short sleeves, once again showing off her delicate arms.  Around her
waist was a plaid catholic schoolgirl skirt that hung just above her knees.
White lacy knee socks and shiny black shoes completed the prick-teasing
image.

   "Do you like schoolgirls too, Professor?" She twisted her torso back and
forth over her hips.

   Johnson sighed unsteadily, his overworked cock once again reacting to
the girl in front of him, seemingly with a mind of its own.

   "Not as much as sluts, huh?" she decided.  "Well, you might change your
mind.  Come on, Slick Prick.  Get up, and crawl over here."

   Johnson obediently lifted himself off the couch.  As he crawled up to
her, she grabbed a handful of clothes from the bathroom and held them out
for him to take.

   "Here professor, these are for your slut over there." She beamed at him.
They were the clothes she just had on, complete with her "skank" necklace
on top.

   "Oh, my pussy was kinda messy, so I wiped it off with my skirt." Her
eyes and mouth squinted upward as if in an unfortunate warning, "It's still
a little damp.  Sorry."

   Johnson sat on his knees in front of her and took the clothing.  He
resisted the urge in his gut to bury his nose in the outfit and treat his
senses to the full force of the fruity body fragrances and lusty cunt-juice
that seeped into the air.

   "Come on, go dress her up, Professor." Cindy said giddily.

   The doll had a body type that was somewhat curvier than Cindy's.  It had
slightly larger breasts and longer legs, in addition to being a brunette,
complete with a runway of trimmed pussy hair.  It was remarkably life-like
to the touch, with high-grade silicone enveloping a steel skeleton that was
for all intents and purposes, anatomically correct.  The result was the
perfect sex doll, but one that was exceptionally heavy and difficult to
manipulate.

   Cindy sat across from the spectacle and watched, laughing occasionally
as Johnson struggled with his doll, trying to squeeze Cindy's tiny whore
outfit around the limp figure.  It took a great amount of effort cramming
the doll's ample breasts into Cindy's small tube top and stretching her
damp miniskirt around the doll's shapely legs.  When he finally got to
strapping up the heels, Cindy giggled at him again.

   "Professor, you're not very good at this are you?"

   Johnson sweated with his effort and seethed at her mockery.  He
responded with silence, but Cindy would not be ignored.

   "Come on, Professor, talk to me!" she whined.  "You've been awfully
quiet tonight."

   Johnson couldn't think of anything he wanted to say to her.

   "So when you played with your students," Cindy continued un-phased, "did
you dress them up yourself, or did you make them do it?"

   Struggling with the straps of the heels, and purposefully not looking at
her, Johnson reacted without thinking, "Played with them?  Come on." He
caught himself.  He really couldn't deny it.  "I'm really not comfortable
talking about it, Cindy." His fatigued frustration was getting the better
of him.

   "Well, tell me anyway, Slick Prick." Cindy's spoiled tone of voice
disregarded his comfort.  He hated the name more each time she used it.

   Johnson sighed, "I sometimes bought them clothes, and they put them on,
Okay?" Something possessed him to fight back his humiliation and really
take a good look at her.  Her blue eyes and soft eyebrows betrayed a
youthful energy that seemed the antithesis to her ruthless capacity for
domination.  It was simply bewildering.

   "Well," she stared straight back at him, "that certainly explains a
lot." Her eyes broke from his and looked at the loose and uneven straps
lying around the doll's calves.  Cindy leaned forward on the chair and
placed her elbows on her knees, while resting her head in her hands.  He
could feel her eyes watching him as he continued to struggle with the doll.
"Then what would you do?" she asked earnestly.

   "What do you mean?" he semi-successfully tied off the first shoe.

   "Well, you fucked them, right?" she giggled in her small palms as her
pigtails bounced behind her.

   Johnson sighed again as he looked downward, remembering why he didn't
like looking at her bright eyes when she blurted out such things.  "Yes."

   "Wow." Her eyes drifted away for an instant.  Johnson could only
interpret it as girlish admiration.  If nothing else, he thought, Cindy was
full of surprises.  She came back, "So, did they like it?"

   The exchange started to feel like an actual conversation.  Johnson
couldn't help but let his guard down a little and crack a smile of pride.
"Oh, most of them liked it alright, I think.  I made them cum."

   "Really?  How do you know?" Cindy was suddenly serious, genuinely
interested in his answers, as if he was teaching her about sex.

   "Well," Johnson had to suppress a laugh, but he was glad to at least be
talking rather than simply being degraded.  "I just knew, Cindy."

   "Oh," she wondered again.  "Wow.  Geez.  You know, I really like to. . .
." She stopped short abruptly.  He had started to relax a bit.  She seemed
to want to really talk to him, but her eyes suddenly looked at him with
intense confusion.  It was eerie.

   Her powerful will took back the reigns, seemingly vetoing the
conversation she wanted to have with him.  Her face turned more focused. 
"Well, you must be really good then, huh?"

   "I. . . ." Johnson was sorry he'd opened his mouth.

   Her hands framed her face as her smile reappeared.

   "I guess." He shook his head not knowing what she wanted to hear, "I
don't know."

   "Well, did you at least kiss them first, Professor?"

   "What?" He looked up at her as he tied the second bow around the doll's
leg finishing off its acquiescent picture of whorishness.

   Cindy bit her bottom lip and squinted her eyes mischievously.  "Do you
even know how to kiss a girl, Professor?"

   Johnson's eyes closed.

   "Answer me!" Cindy petulantly struck the arm of her chair with her hand.

   "Yes."

   "Yes what?" Cindy smiled.

   "Yes, I know how to kiss girls." He played the subservient puppet for
her.

   "Prove it, Professor." Cindy leaned back in her chair and stretching her
knee-socked legs in front of her.  "Why don't you snuggle up to your filthy
little whore there and give her a nice kiss.  I don't guess that whores get
kissed very often before they're porked raw by dirty old men like you."
Cindy's confounding mixture of gutter language and sweet innocence
continued to jar him.  "Come on, I think she'd like it!"

   Johnson reluctantly got up and sat next to the slouching sex-toy.  He
looked at Cindy pleadingly.  "Please, don't."

   "Don't what?" Her legs kicked playfully out in front of her.  "Come on,
Professor, at least give the girl a little kiss before you slut-fuck her!"

   Johnson looked at the indecent "O" formed by the sex doll's lifeless,
rubbery lips.

   "I can't," he looked back at her, "This is ridiculous, Cindy."

   "Professor." Cindy was instantly annoyed.  She reached into the pocket
of her catholic skirt, and pulled out her tiny cell phone.  "If you don't
give her a kiss right now, I'm going to take you into the bathroom with me
and show you how girls pee--unless you want to go to jail.  Now come on,
give the poor girl one little kiss, it isn't going to kill you!"

   Johnson's heart seemed to stop.  He couldn't believe what he had just
heard.  Looking into her unflinching eyes, he was actually afraid for the
first time.  She wouldn't--would she?

   His decision was an easy one.  He leaned his lips closer to the doll's
vacant face, angling the toy's neck so that it faced him.  His stomach
lurched with self-loathing as he lightly touched his mouth to the
unresponsive rubbery lips.

   "You call that a kiss, Professor?  Come on," she said impatiently as she
stood up and stepped over to the couch.  "Give her a real kiss." Cindy
brought her knees up to the couch on the other side of the doll and looked
at the horny man.  Johnson could see her legs underneath her, as her tight
ass bounced in response to the couch's springs.  Hints of her white cotton
panties peaked out from underneath her plaid skirt.  He couldn't help his
desire for her, but he was beginning to see Cindy differently.  She wasn't
just playing games.  This was real.

   "Just like this," she said as she lowered her face to the doll's.  He
watched as she rubbed her lips around the sex doll's mouth, deliberately
coating the silicone opening with stringers of her saliva.  She ran her
glistening tongue along the inside of the "O" hole and licked suggestively
at the rubber tongue inside.  Finally enveloping the doll's mouth with her
own, she stuffed her tongue down as far as she could go.  Her blonde
pigtails dangled playfully down to her neck as Cindy showed the Professor
how to give his slut a proper kiss.

   "See?  Now you try!" she said condescendingly, smiling at him as she
wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.  Johnson's stomach was tight
with humiliated rage, and his cock was back to full blown erection despite
it all.

   He tried again, this time with Cindy's face smiling right next to the
doll's as she watched him up close.  He felt Cindy's wet saliva around the
dolls mouth, and savored the taste of it, wishing he could sample it from
the source, and then spit it back onto her face.

   "Good boy," Cindy whispered into Johnson's ear.  "Run your tongue in her
mouth.  Give her a nice long, sloppy kiss.  I think she likes it!"

   Johnson surrounded the doll's lips with his, and probed his tongue
around the inside of its mouth, tasting what Cindy had left behind for him.

   "Yay!  I think you're really turning her on, Professor!  Hey, you know
what else I'll bet whores don't get too often?" she bubbled.  "I'll bet
she'd like it if you licked her pussy."

   "Oh, Jesus Christ." Johnson couldn't help but blurt it out.

   "What?" Cindy sat back on her knees on the couch in a gesture of
innocence, her skirt riding up and revealing the top of her thighs above
her knees.  "The least you could do is give her pussy a little lick before
you fucked her like a rag doll, don't you think?" She tilted her head at
his lack of response, "Slick Prick?"

   "Cindy, please stop calling me that." Johnson's anger was bubbling,
ignoring his better judgement.

   "What?  Slick Prick?" the phrase tripped off her tongue like it was the
most natural thing in the world.  "But that's what you are!" she giggled.
"It says it right there." Cindy lifted her self up on her knees, reached
across the silicone tits spilling out of Cindy's black tube top, and poked
Johnson in the chest, pointing out the words embroidered over his netted
jersey: "Cindy's Slick Prick".

   "Now, you just shushy, mister.  Go ahead and get down between her legs
and lick your little skanky whore out."

   "Dammit," Johnson awkwardly moved down into position between the doll's
lethargic legs.  He pushed his body between her strapped up calves and
could already smell Cindy's pungent, drying pussy juice on the mini-skirt
he'd stretched over the doll's hips.  The scent turned him on, and yet
every thing about what he was doing was repulsive to him.

   "Lift her leg up, so I can see." Cindy pulled up the doll's leg, bending
it at the knee, causing its fake pussy lips to spread slightly from the
strain, and the mini-skirt to stretch around the toy's upper thighs.  Cindy
sat on the couch next to it, looking down at Johnson, her legs dangling
over the edge.  Johnson stabilized the doll's leg by pushing up under its
thigh, the strapped up heel dangling over his shoulder.

   Johnson's face hovered directly in front of the opening.  The tip of his
nose almost touched the damp skirt.  He felt filthy.

   "Go on, silly," Cindy's delicate chin rested on top of the doll's knee,
her big eyes staring down at him.  "Whores need their pussies licked too,
don't ya know."

   Johnson couldn't believe he was doing this.  He opened his mouth and
stuck his tongue out, planting it on the soft rubber pussy lips, and
started licking along the opening.  Pussy eating was never something he
particularly enjoyed, much to the dismay of some of his past "girlfriends".
That made what Cindy was forcing him to do all the more demeaning.  Still,
the scent of Cindy's cunt was all around him, and his cock was defiantly
responding to it.

   "Oh, nasty." Cindy stared down at him wide eyed, her breathing shallow.
He was repulsed and captivated by her arousal.  "Good, slut licker," she
said with her special brand of angelic venom.  "Get your tongue in there.
Here let me help." Cindy stood up and manipulated the doll's legs around
him, bending them upward and forcing both of them up so that the doll's
heels dug into the front of the couch.  Its whorish cunt lips were now
spread wide for Johnson's dutiful tongue.  Cindy returned to her seat next
to the toy and wrapped her leg in front of the doll's, resting her shiny
black shoe next to Johnson's face, while her other leg splayed similarly on
the other side of her.

   "You dirty fuck," she blurted as Johnson saw her lift up her school-girl
skirt to reveal her panties with the words "Pretty Pretty Princess"
embroidered across her slit.  A clear wet spot soaked through the material
just below the words.  Johnson thought his strung out cock was about to pop
off.

   "God you're so pussy-whipped, Professor.  Go ahead and rub your dick
while you bury your tongue into your little slut." With that, Cindy pulled
her panties aside revealing her slick cunt to him once again--her frilly,
white knee socks hugging her calves, and her shiny Mary Jane's clinging for
dear life at the edge of the couch.  Her skirt was draped over her flat
tummy and her fingers started to diddle her swollen clit as the Professor
lapped at the dead, rubber lips.  Despite his past disinterest in eating
pussy, he'd have done anything right then for just a taste of Cindy's.

   "God," Cindy breathily whispered, her legs spread beside Johnson's face,
her eyes fixed on his working tongue.  Her face was racked with conflict.
She flinched toward him and then backed off again, as if trying to fight an
almost uncontrollable urge.  Finally, she lost the battle.

   "Come here." Cindy, rubbing on her clit with frantic impatience, bent
down and reached over with her other hand to grab a fistful of Johnson's
hair.

   Johnson struggled to get into position in front of her, with his bottle
of lube swinging below his neck and Cindy impatiently yanking his head
toward her slurping twat.

   "Just stick out your tongue," there was a sense of urgency in her voice
that he hadn't heard before.  "Just put your head right there," her fingers
pulled on his hair strongly, and she forced his head into position, his
nose practically touching her wet slit.

   "Put it right there, stick out your fucking tongue, and don't move, you
sad, filthy fuck!" Her breath rushed in and out of her mouth shakily, her
fingers worked over her clit like she was a sex-starved animal, and her
sleek legs seemed to vibrate and convulse out of her control in the
periphery of Johnson's vision.  Her perky chest heaved up and down under
the thin material of her button-up and her eyes bore daggers into his with
a sense of single-minded purpose that until now, she had only hinted at. 
Johnson was there to do as he was told, and for once, he did so willingly.

   Cindy's sopping cunt dangled over the edge of the couch--Johnson's
tongue reaching for it.  He stroked his cock underneath him with as much
single-minded purpose as Cindy had, and her body finally edged close enough
to his tongue for him to taste her warm wetness directly.  Her juice
mingled with his saliva and seeped into his mouth, washing over his taste
buds with her musky flavor.  Her silky cunt danced around his outstretched
tongue as her fingers worked feverishly above him.

   Her breath was ragged, her whole body shivering.

   "Wait, wait, wait, wait." Her shivery voice was accompanied by her
fingers squeezing into his hair.  She pulled his head upward, and looked at
him with piercing eyes, as if she was urgently remembering something.

   "I swear to God, Slick Prick, if you fucking cum right now, I'll make
you wear my dirty panties to school on Monday, then make you suck yourself
off in the girls' room." Johnson immediately backed off his dick stroking.
Her transformation was mind-blowing, but threat or bluff, he was not about
to disappoint Cindy now.

   "Oh.  My God. . ." her pigtails bounced with a mind of their own.  She
threw her head back against the couch into a deep breath, and then sharply
exhaled.  Johnson wriggled his tongue, daring to delve deeper into the
folds of her sticky twat as Cindy started convulsing above him.  Her legs
dropped off the couch and she squeezed his head like a vice between her
thighs.

   "Oh my fucking God!" she wailed.

   Johnson could see nothing but her bare naval and the flitting fingers on
her clit.  His ears were squeezed between her fleshy thighs, and he heard
the muffled sounds of Cindy's cries over top of him as his head was shaken
by her convulsing legs.  His nose and tongue were saturated with her juice,
and her finger continued flicking across her engorged clit until finally,
after several more violent spasms, she released him.

   Johnson looked up to see Cindy's flushed face, an absolute picture of
vulnerable, dazed pleasure.  Her eyes locked on him as she tried to catch
her breath.

   "Wow. . ." she slumped back against the couch.  Her eyes squinted upward
in an amazing smile at no one in particular as she giggled through her
heavy breaths--a look of giddy, beautiful euphoria.

   Johnson couldn't help but look at the youngster with fascination. 
Seeing her now made him think of Sarah Jennings.  She would get so lost in
her own feelings that she would forget where she was.  It was an eerie
moment that he found himself wanting to savor.

   "No, no.  Wait." Cindy snapped her head forward and looked down at
Johnson with a mixture of intensity and contempt--perhaps even guilt.

   "No, get away." She raised one of her legs, planted the sole of her
shiny black shoe onto Johnson's face, and pushed him away from her.

   "I think your dolly wants you to fuck her, Professor," she finally said,
still breathing heavily, but with a look of frustrated intensity.  She
pulled her panties back over her spent cunt and lowered her skirt once
again.  She got up and walked back to her chair opposite the couch and sat
down, running her hands over her hair and checking on the status of her
pigtails.

   "Go on," she said plainly.  "Fuck her."

   Johnson lay splayed on the floor, his face glistening with Cindy's
girl-juice.  He felt used and uncertain.  He didn't understand his feelings
about what had just happened.  He was desperate to fuck, and he was
trapped. He looked over at the sex doll slumped on the couch.  One of its
legs still held its bent position upward.  The other had fallen down, and
the high heel rested limply on the floor.  Johnson's mind reeled with need.
Cindy's powerful display of uninhibited, selfish release had made him want
her more than ever.  He looked at her helplessly, greatly preferring her
vulnerable features to the doll's.

   "Don't leave her hanging, Professor." Cindy said teasingly.  Her bubbly
demeanor had started to return.  "Go ahead and slick up your dick and pump
that strung out whore."

   Johnson's hyper-charged ache for an uninhibited, cunt-stretching
grudge-fuck gave him no choice.  He just wanted it over with.  He popped
open his lube bottle and lubed up his cock.  His breathing was anxious, and
his movements clumsy with blind need.

   "Lay her on her back on the couch and stuff your dick inside so I can
watch, Professor." He looked at her.  She looked as if she was a proud
breeder just about to watch her dog mate with its bitch.  His desperation
superceded his dignity--he knew now that he wanted this more than she did.

   He positioned his body over top of the lifeless slut and stuffed his
dick into her rubber cunt.  It felt so disgusting in his mind, but was such
an incredible relief for his cock.  He couldn't help but give out a light
moan.

   "Oh fuck." Dream like images of a vulnerable Cindy flooded his
mind--submissiveness and dominance at once.  Cunt stretching.  Throat
fucking.  Hair yanking.  Ass pumping.  His cock squeezed and thrust into
the slicked rubber hole.  "Oh. . ."

   "Yeah, Professor?" Cindy asked excitedly, obviously responding to his
pleasure.  "Does that whore's cunt feel good?  Go ahead." She sat up on the
edge of her chair, her pigtails flipping happily around the back of her
ears.  "You can fuck her harder if you want.  She's just a stupid whore
after all."

   Johnson couldn't help himself.  The soft, rubber cock-hole squeezed his
member as he slurped in and out of the expensive love toy.  His hips
slapped roughly against the doll's ass cheeks as the whole couch began to
shake.  The "Skank" necklace around the limp doll's neck jingled with the
deep thrusts of his rod.  He imagined taking Cindy's pussy against her
will, her young body thrashing wildly underneath his dominating frame as he
pumped her exposed slit.  His pace quickened that much more.

   "Wow!" said Cindy, "Does it feel good, Professor?  Do you like fucking
your slut?"

   "Uhhhh," he groaned both with defiance and unanswered need as he pumped
his hard dick into the rubber skank below him.  He sat up, and his hands
grabbed her thighs, lifting them up and making her knees bend, spreading
her fabricated pussy wide for his monster thrusts.  Sweat dripped off his
forehead onto the doll's tummy, he felt like a mindless animal.  It was a
desperate, horrible feeling.  Still, he continued to fuck his artificial
whore.

   "Good boy, Professor.  You know what else whores like?"

   "No--please, just. . .  I need to fucking cum.  Just shut the fuck up,
and let me cum," his pelvis slammed into the sweat-slicked silicone.

   "Not yet, you horny-toad!" Cindy quipped.  "Whores like it when you pump
into their throats, don't they?  Why don't you fuck her mouth, Professor."

   "Jesus Christ!" He just needed it over with.  He pulled out, and
extracted some more lube for his cock.  Per Cindy's instructions, he moved
the doll so that it was sitting, legs spread flat on the floor in front of
the couch, its back resting against it, and its open mouth and rubber
tongue ready for Johnson's long overdue sperm.  Cindy giggled at the
struggle it took to get the toy in position, and at Johnson's increasing
desperation to release his load.

   Finally, the instant it was in position, Johnson stuffed his dick, balls
deep into the doll's oral cavity.  His hands clenched its hair as he
violently fucked its perfectly compliant throat, using it as it was meant
to be used.  The tight orifice and his movement within it created a strong
sucking action on his cock, and he knew that he could hold out no longer.

   Cindy stepped up silently beside him as the silicone folds rubbed all
the way against the base of his dick.  His sweaty balls, sticky with lube,
slapped against the fuck toy's subservient chin.  He could feel the soft
material of Cindy's schoolgirl skirt rub against his thigh, her perky titty
sandwiching her thin shirt against his arm.  He could smell her fragrant
body so close to him as she leaned up on her tiptoes and slid his earlobe
lightly between her teeth.  Her breath was a hurricane inside his head.  He
stuffed his dick into the toy's willing throat as deep as it would go, his
shaved crotch scratching against her nose.  Just as her cock-milking
fuck-hole began coaxing Johnson's sperm from his body, Cindy whispered four
measured words against his ear.

   "You horny, filthy, fuck."

   An animal moan escaped his lips, and Cindy's demeaning words coincided
with the swell of a shame-ridden orgasm just crossing over into
inevitability.  An inexplicable tear of both desperate pleasure and utter
humiliation swelled up in his eye.  He could feel the tight nub of Cindy's
little nipple rubbing against his arm under her shirt just as he thrust
once more into the doll's face and started squirting his thick load inside
of it.

   "Oh, God.  Jesus." Johnson's face contorted with both the sadness of his
shame, and the joy of his release.  A tear ran down his cheek as his voice
cracked in crying moans with each thrilling squirt of his man-seed.  His
knees wanted to buckle, and the rubber whore below him extracted the thick
sperm from his pulsating cock like a milking machine.  While Cindy's teeth
played with his ear, one of her soft hands trailed up his chest hair
underneath his sweaty jersey and started pinching and twisting his nipple.
The pain of it only served to further contribute to the chaotic conflict of
feelings.

   "Tell me how that feels, little doggy," Cindy whispered just as the last
of his semen was evacuated by the doll's slick, sperm-sucking throat.

   He felt both satisfied and used, both pleasured and humiliated.

   "Bitch," Johnson hissed, almost crying--not sure if he was talking to
Cindy or the doll, and not able to differentiate between them in that
moment.  His knees finally gave in, and both he and the doll collapsed onto
the floor.  His sperm was already oozing white dollops out of the
fuck-toy's limp mouth, and dripping off her chin in front of him.  Tears
continued to swell in his eyes even as his rapidly deflating cock sent
repeated signals of post-orgasmic bliss to his troubled brain.  It was a
complex cacophony of feelings he'd never had before, and he wept.

   He covered his face with his hand in order to hide the feeble display
from Cindy.  He remembered the face of pure, fresh beauty and vulnerability
that accompanied her orgasm.  He remembered how remarkably similar Sarah
had looked those many years ago, and an unexpected sense of tenderness that
he hadn't felt in years overwhelmed him.  He felt weak, and shameful.  He
finally realized that perhaps that's how Cindy wanted him to feel.

   The question still remained.  Who was she?  He leaned back and rested
his head on the carpet with a mental and physical exhaustion he'd never
felt before.  He saw the cute visage of an innocent catholic girl standing
above him, her big blue eyes watching him with what Johnson could only
attribute to child-like awe.

   "Wow, I think you made her cum, Professor."

   - - - -

   Johnson moaned as his eyes fluttered open.  He had been roused by some
kind of jingling or clanking sound.  He didn't know how long he'd been
sleeping.  It might have been minutes.  It might have been an hour.  All he
did know was that his muscles were sore, and he was exhausted.  At once he
remembered where he was, wishing it had been a dream.

   The sex doll's cum-leaking mouth was the first thing in his field of
vision.  Its body lay limp on the floor next to him.  The watery sperm that
still leaked from its mouth onto the carpet was an indication that he
couldn't have been sleeping too long.  He wanted to get away from it--to
never see the fucking thing again, but Cindy was still here, and he was so
tired.  He would leave well enough alone.

   "It's almost sleepy time, Professor," Cindy was saying, somewhere near
the couch.  "I think you should go potty."

   "Cindy," he said with a strained voice as he lifted his head off the
floor.  "Can't you please just go home?  I've learned my lesso--" He froze
as he sat up and looked at the couch.  It was covered with sheets that
Cindy had raided from his linen closet.  On top of them were a series of
nylon straps that draped over the couch seat and terminated in ratcheted
metal buckles.  They looked like the straps used to pack furniture into
moving vans.  "What the fuck are you doing?"

   Cindy had changed her clothes again.  She now wore a printed cotton
nighty with short, frilly sleeves.  Her hair was made up in a single braid
down the back of her neck.  Although Cindy didn't have quite the effect
she'd had on him before he'd orgasmed, he still found it hard taking his
eyes off of her.  He marveled at how different Cindy could make herself
look, and her skill with clothing and makeup.  She was working on spacing
the straps along the large couch, which was now missing its back cushions.

   "If you don't go now you're gonna be sorry." she warned without looking
at him.

   He wanted to lash out in helpless frustration, but instead, he quietly
acquiesced and went to the bathroom.

   "Okay, Professor, lay your dolly on the couch."

   "What are you going to do, Cindy?"

   "You and your dolly are going to sleep together, silly!" she giggled.

   Johnson didn't have words anymore.  He felt sick to his stomach.

   "Come on," she patted the sofa cushion.  "Get her on up here and I'll
tuck you two love birds in."

   He yearned for her to just leave him alone.  Johnson grabbed the doll
under its armpits, hoisting its heavy frame up and laying it down across
the couch on its back, cum still drying on its mouth.  He wanted to wipe it
off, and grabbed a corner of the sheet covering the couch to do just that.

   "No, no, no, she likes your cum, Professor!  Honest!" Cindy slapped his
hand away from the doll's mouth.  "Now, slick up your cock."

   He opened the flip top on the lube bottle around his neck and squirted
some into his hand.

   "A little more.  I really think she likes you." Cindy grinned at him.

   He applied lube until his cock was positively dripping with it.  His
hard on had started to return, although not near as urgent as it once was.

   "Ok, now hop into bed with her, doggy."

   "What. . .  how. . ." He was afraid to ask.

   "Well, get on top and slip your cock into the slut.  Show her what a
stud you are."

   He looked into Cindy's eyes--pleading silently with her.  She returned
his gaze with a silent mixture of compassion and unwavering conviction.

   "I know.  Come on," she said, almost apologetically.  He crawled on top
of the steel and rubber frame while Cindy helped guide his stiffened cock
into the doll's pussy.

   "Good boy."

   "Cindy, please.  Don't make me sleep like this." Johnson's neck
strained, trying to hold his head above the doll's chin.  He saw the thin
residue of his seed pooling inside the "O" of its mouth.

   "Shhhh, Professor." Cindy covered his lips with her fingers.  "Time for
sleepy." She grabbed one of the long straps that draped under the dolls'
torso and wrapped it around Johnson and his whore.  She buckled and
ratcheted it tightly so that his waist was against hers.  He felt the damp
mini-skirt pressing against his belly, and the slick confines of the doll's
pussy massaged his slowly rejuvinating cock.  Cindy continued strapping the
doll and Johnson together, chest to chest, shoulder to shoulder, and
eventually using smaller straps, arm to arm and leg to leg.  He craned his
neck to avoid laying his cheek onto his own drying cum.

   "Cindy," he stammered, trying to figure a way out of this debasing
situation.

   "I'm sorry, Professor, but it's the least you can do.  Aw, you two are
so cute together!  I wouldn't fuck her all night, though, if I were you. 
Big day tomorrow."

   "Tomorrow?" he said incredulously.  "Are you going to do fucking worse
than this?" He was beside himself.

   "Well," she paused, thinking the question over seriously.  "I guess that
depends on your point of view." After a strange moment of consideration,
she leaned down in front of him, and kissed her soft lips to his forehead.
"I'll see you in the morning." She looked like she wanted to say more, but
didn't.  She left him there in the dark.

   "Cindy.  Cindy!"

   She ignored his cries, and before long he decided to quiet down lest she
decide to make an effort to shut him up.  Eventually, he was forced to lay
his cheek against the doll's face, but most of his cum had become a dried
crust on its skin.  He tried to struggle against the straps, but the doll
was impossibly heavy.  All his struggles seemed to do was remind him that
his dick was buried deep inside of it, and each time his hard on stirred,
he felt more and more a slave.

   Shortly before he finally fell asleep, he could swear he heard Cindy's
sharp breaths and thin grunts escaping his bedroom.  She was masturbating
herself again, he was sure of it.  His disobedient cock hardened against
the soft walls of the doll's rubber pussy.  He didn't think he could sink
any lower when he heard her thin, breathy voice from the other room:

   "God, that's a good doggy!"
   To be continued. . .