"Hmm...Slut, Whore, Piglet, Ass, Cunt, Little Bitch, Bumhole, Fucktoy, Bimbo, PopTart, Dirty Brat...all fitting names, so many nasty words to describe this nasty, ill-mannered little girl."
"How's about Little Cunt?", I say, adding my own suggestion. Sara smiles, "I like that. It describes her petite fuckable body, and also the fact she is an annoying, stupid cunt. And, of course, her most useful feature is her tight little cunt, so its perfect." Sara approved.
"Huuullleeehhhummm!" Little Cunt attempts to speak through her ball-gag.
I spank her ass hard, causing her to yelp, eyes wide. She's now a million miles from the smug, self-satisfied teenager I had met on a train. She begged and pleaded with her eyes, doing her best puppy impersonation. Not that it worked, I felt not even a twinge of sympathy for this spoilt, self-serving little brat. I slid my hands all over her body, savouring her sweet, sensual body. Her redeeming quality was her delicious, immensely fuckable body. She'd learn humility in humiliation, and at long last this useless, stupid girl would finally be of positive use to the world.
I slide my fingers into the crotch of her jeans, and find her to be even wetter.. The vibe is certainly doing its work here. Despite her protestations her pussy was dripping wet. So much for her self-control. "I think even her pussy is pissed off at her and wants her dealt with", I said, with a smile, as I removed Little Cunt's clothes. Her jeans are left in a muddled heap on the floor, while her top is torn off, much to her horror. Sara lifts Little Cunt's ankles and removes her socks and shoes, leaving her dainty little feet to stand on the cold surface of the hard floor. I grip the back of her panties and tug, pulling her up by her ass, and grip her hair, running my fingers through it. The soft buzzing of the vibe can be heard clearly now that the jeans are gone.
Sara turns and walks ahead, "let's take our toy to the bedroom, I have so many things there waiting for her..." Little Cunt's eyes widen, her mind no doubt filling with thoughts of the torturous instruments Sara likely has.
I grip the teenager's crotch tightly, making her squirm, and lead her into Sara's lair. She groans into her ball-gag, an air of resignation now in her tone.