Chapter 3

I found a mirror I could put in the room. I was beginning to like this little room. I dug up a few more things to make it look homier. The only thing missing was water. The walls were solid concrete. Running plumbing was not an option. I settled for a basin and large thermos. At least the girl could freshen up a little. Hell, it worked for our ancestors for centuries.

That afternoon I smelled smoke again. Smiling, I threw a couple condoms in my pocket and sauntered down to the boiler room. It was Brandy again. She took another puff as I came into the room. "So, you couldn't stay away even after Cynthia took care of you?"

Brandy looked disgusted. "She didn't. You had her so fucked out she went right to sleep. I was so frustrated."

"I bet," I said. "I'm glad you came back. We do have some unfinished business."

Brandy smiled and held up the cig. "Mind if I finish? I hate to waste them."

"Not at all. I'm starting to like the smell of cigarettes. Used to hate it," I said leaning against the door jamb.

Brandy smiled, "I bet you like it." As she finished the cig, she said, "I told Miss Gonzalez that you caught me smoking and I had to tell you who gave me the cigarette. She looked really worried. I told her that I didn't think you were going to be telling anybody about it. You won't, will you?"

"I'm sure her secret is safe with me," I responded.

Brandy took a last drag, carefully stubbed out the cigarette and stood as I entered and closed the door behind me. "Show me the room. Cynthia said you had it fixed up nice," she said.

"Cynthia certainly likes talking, and other things," I said looking at Brandy.

"I guess I'm a bad girl. Are you going to punish me?"

"I don't think so," I said. She looked disappointed. I went to the door to the converted room, opened it and turned to Brandy, "I think instead I'm going to ravish you."

Brandy threw up her hands and said, "No, please. Don't ravish me. You seem like such a nice man. You wouldn't do that to poor me, would you?"

I reached out and grabbed her wrist, "In a second, little girl. I'm not a nice man at all."

"No, no," she pleaded in a little girl voice. "I'm a nice girl."

I dragged her, quite easily actually, into the room, closing it behind us. "Take your clothes off."

"Not that," she said as she unbuttoned her blouse and quickly stripped off her skirt and underwear. I took a step toward her and she fled to the other side of the room where I had set a couch. She put her hands in front of her, "No please. I've never done this before."

"Then how come you've shaved your pussy?" I asked.

She looked down, "Good question. Um, 'cuz Cynthia likes it that way." Then in her little girl voice again. "I haven't grown any hair yet."

I pulled off my shirt, shoes and pants. She was still in her shoes and white socks looking young and vulnerable but with a devilish smile. I grabbed her hand and pulled her to the bed. She fell onto it theatrically, with her legs spread and her arms thrown akimbo. "Oh, I am to be ravished. Be gentle," she begged putting her hand against her forehead.

Even though she was acting, and badly at that, I found myself caught up in her little girl performance. Her body had an innocent look, small breasts, bare pussy and the little girl shoes and white socks. My cock gave a lurch. I stared at her bare pussy peeking out from her labia and it looked sweet, virginal and delicate.