Vicki didn't see Mr. Valentine for over two weeks and it was pure bliss for her. Her wounds healed and she was able to move without her guts protesting loudly. The kerosene enema had burned her insides, but even this pain was residing.
True, she had to wear the dog collar with the chain, but her chain had been lengthened to allow her to go to the window. It was barred as she had suspected and was covered with a one-way reflector material. No matter how long she stood in that window, stark naked except for the black, frilly garter belt and mesh stockings, no one would see her.
She had a window on the world but was still a prisoner. And there was simply no way anyone could ever find her. Keith and Vic wouldn't admit having raped her and then selling her into white slavery. That would incriminate them in too many crimes to ever get off easy.
Besides, what would lead anyone to suspect them in the first place? She had had the unfortunate luck to pick Vic at random when she was hitching. This was just another link in the long chain of events that ended with her being kept like some animal in the estate.
Still, Vicki couldn't complain too much about the way she was being treated now. She had the finest foods to eat, she could sleep whenever she wanted, she had a color TV, books, a maid who waited on her hand and foot.
It was a life of luxury. And slavery.
No amount of creature comforts could change the fact she was a prisoner of Mr. Valentine.
And that man did horrid things to her when the mood moved him. Vicki wondered how many other young girls this madman had captured and held prisoner here. The thought was almost too awful to bear up under. She knew she wasn't the first to occupy this room. The bed had that slept in look and the clothes in the closet were in many different sizes, all obviously worn.
She was sitting on the bed, wondering what she could do to escape when Mr. Valentine walked in. He never knocked. He simply came in. She looked up at dm but said nothing.
What did she really have to say to this man? There wasn't a damn thing she could think of that would mean shit to him.
"I've been away on business. Have you missed me, slave?"
"Like an asshole misses hemorrhoids," she said. She was feeling cocky. It had been almost two weeks and time had blurred the sharp edge of Mr. Valentine's myriad tortures.
She learned quickly, however, that the man never forgot. She yelped as the long whip almost leaped off the wall into the man's hands. He reached back and sent the blacksnake whip arching through the air, seeking her soft flesh.
It found it.
The thin stripe of blood welling up from her shoulder should have told her this was a man who meant business. But she had to open her mouth.
"You cocksucker! How dare you…"
Then she screamed. He gave her intense pain by wrapping the whip's supple end around her buttocks. The cracker on the whip sought out the recesses of her body and raised another bloody welt across her rear. But it was the front end of the whip that really aroused sudden pain.
The leather had run across her cunt lips.
"Go on, slave, tell me all about my short comings."
He curled and uncurled the whip in lazy circles under his hand. It was only taking a twist of his wrist to send the whip writhing around like a living thing. Vicki bit down on her lower lip to keep from telling the man what she really thought of him.
If he would lash her with the whip over such mild stuff, he would beat her to a bloody pulp if she really told him what she thought. Her vocabulary was raunchy enough to burn the eats off a longshoreman. But she wisely kept it all to herself.
"No more pithy comments? A shame. I was beginning to enjoy this. But then there's no reason for me to stop, is there?"
She tried to avoid the lash of the long, black whip again and failed. But the next time, she was more successful. As long as she crouched on the bed, the huge posts surrounding her would protect her a little bit. She wanted to flee cross the room and hide in the closet but the chain around her neck prevented her moving that far.
"You're spoiling my fun, slave. I don't like tat." He tossed the whip aside and picked up the totter riding crop. He had to move quickly to catch the dodging girl, but he was up to it.
She screamed as the riding crop landed squarely across her shoulders. Making the mistake of turning to face her attacker, she received the crop directly on her tits.
She blacked out for a second with the intense pain shooting down into her chest. When she was aware of what was happening around her again, she found herself on hands and knees, the man straddling her like she was some sort of race horse.
"GO on, slave, trot around. Try to buck me off." He applied the riding crop to her ass just as he would to a real home.
The teenaged girl wasn't strong enough to support his weight for long. Nor did she like the way he was whipping her with the riding crop. But his words kept her going.
"Do I have to knock out a few teeth and put a bit in your mouth, slave? I will do it if I have to."
She was trying to crawl around the room while he rode her back. It was a sorry sight for her as she glanced into one of the mirrors. The man was obviously enjoying this humiliation immensely. Every time he would beat her torn ass with his crop, he smiled broadly.
She finally collapsed to the floor, unable to keep going. His weight was just too much for her.
"So my mount is worn out. Very well. Bark like a dog I think I would be fucking a bitch in heat."
"Huh?"
"Dammit," he flared. "Bark like a dog!"
He began hitting her across the upper arms and shoulders with his riding crop. Each blow stung like a million bees. Finally, the girl got it through her dazed head what he wanted.
"Arf, arf!"
"Not good enough. Bark, really BARK!"
This time she barked loud enough for him. And she kept barking and howling like a dog as he dropped down behind her and shoved forward. His prick found her cunt with unerring accuracy.
She moaned softly then. This was more like it. Why did he want her to act like a dog? She didn't know or really care at that moment. All she was interested in was the way his cock seemed to fill her hungry cunt with a hard-fucking prick.
She began moving her ass in rhythm to the way the man was fucking her. This crammed his prick even more deeply into her now juicy twat. She loved this more than anything the man had done to her before. Sure, she was humiliated by having to bark like a dog, but he had stopped whipping her a long time ago.
Even the pain in her beaten body seemed distant to her now. She had a cock being stuffed into her juicy pussy. That was all that mattered to her now.
"Bark, damn you, bitch, bark louder! I want to hear you barking like a dog!"
He began fucking her even faster. She discovered that he would really pull out the stops the louder she barked. Her cunt was slowly coming alive due to the friction of his cocks head against her softly yielding pussy walls. She was having to groan in between the loud yaps.
Her breath was coming in harsh, hard pants now. She could barely control her rampaging emotions. She hated the man with all her young soul, but she loved the way his cock made her come alive. For two weeks, she had been abandoned and virtually alone in this room.
Now she had a man with a virile cock to fuck her yearning cunt. That seemed like heaven to her. If she had to act like an animal, she would. As long as he didn't pull that prick from its hot, juicy berth inside her seething cunt.
"More, give me some more!" he was yelling.
She could barely hear him. The blood was pounding like the ocean's surf in her ears. She could feel the blood excitedly pulsing throughout her lithe body. Her tits were swelling up with the aroused blood and her cunt lips were rigid with lust.
She felt those labia strain as his cock came surging into her pussy. One second her cunt was totally empty. The next, it was filled to overflowing with the thick plug of his cock. It was more than heaven for her, it was close to paradise.
"Oh, master, fuck me harder! I need that prick of yours!"
"Stupid slut!" he snarled. "Bark, don't talk!"
So she barked. She didn't want to do anything to endanger her pussy full of cock. The way it was driving in and out of her, she could feel every detail of its surface. The big blue vein on the very top of the cock was pulsing madly with his lust. She could even feel the thinner veins on the sides of his prick. They, too, were enlarged with the sudden swell of desire in his loins.
She drove her ass back to meet his forward thrust. As he fucked forward, her ass fitted neatly into the curve of his crotch. It was almost as if the two of them had been cut from the same erotic jigsaw puzzle.
"I… oh, I… aieeeee!" the man cried out.
And then she felt a sudden emptiness in her cunt once again. He had yanked his spewing prick from her twat and was hosing her with his jism. Blast after pearly blast of his come spattered onto her back and into her hair. Once again, he had robbed her of not only a climax but the delight of feeling his seething hot jism gush into her greedy cunt hole.
He stood and said, as if nothing had happened, "Keep barking. I want to hear you barking, slave."
She barked. She barked and hated the man as much as she had ever hated anyone in her entire life. It didn't seem fair. She had been locked up here alone for two whole weeks. The hunger in her cunt had been real and the man's prick had been the obvious answer. And he had withdrawn it at the very last.
He knew how much she'd needed that cock fucking her. He'd known and made her degrade herself like some domesticated animal to get it and then had pulled it away at the last second.
The man was a master, alright. A master at molding her feel like shit. Everything he did was designed to put her down, make her feel less than human.
What really bugged Vicki was that he was succeeding so well.
She hated herself as much as she hated Mr. Valentine for doing these awful things to her.