Cindy: The Professor's Bane Ch. 03

"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. . .