It was now obvious from the woman's behavior that she didn't give a shit how much she hurt little Sandy.

The black haired beauty could tell right away that the blonde counselor was relishing the pain she dished out.

The diminutive teenager could feel the nylon stocking cutting off the circulation of blood to her hand.

She could tell without looking that the tips of her left fingers were turning a deep purple color.

The little girl could feel pins and needles in the tips of her digits, but she knew they wouldn't be there long.

Sandy could tell that soon she would be able to feel nothing in her fingers. They would be completely numb.

Sandy tried to wiggle her fingers at the knuckles and found that she could only do this with increasing difficulty.

She could tell that before long she would not be able to move her fingers at all. They would be rendered immobile by the stringent bondage.

Since the head of the bed was pressed flush against the wall, Miss Richardson had to circle around the foot to get to the other side.

Miss Richardson moved with an animalistic grace. She moved as if she were a wild jungle beast in heat encircling her helpless prey.

Miss Richardson repeated the process with the other arm and moved to the foot of the bed. Sandy had an expression of unadulterated terror on her face.

"Why are you doing this to me?"

"Because I think it is fun."

"But you are hurting me badly."

"That's what makes it fun."

"But why? Why, Miss Richardson?"

"Because I don't like your attitude."

"What about my attitude?"

"You are a smart ass, Sandy."

"I'll be nicer. I promise. Just untie me."

"Not until I have had my way with you."