Vicki lost all track of time. She might have been in Mr. Valentine's clutches for a week or a year. She had no real way of telling. The girl had thought of doing the old prisoner in the slammer routine of marking a line on the wall for each day, but she had discarded that when she realized that either the maid would erase it or Mr. Valentine would punish her for defacing the walls.
She slept when she wanted and ate whenever she was brought food. This should have been three times a day. Sometimes it felt as if they were force feeding her twice as much as normal and other times, she seemed to go for days without food.
Still, it wasn't too bad an existence except that she was bored. And the occasional visits from Mr. Valentine made her uptight. She didn't like being used.
She could have gotten in to being the man's mistress – if the freedom to come and go as she pleased had been part of the deal. This was a posh mansion and the food was excellent. She was eating things she had only heard talked about on TV. But she wasn't free.
That was what bothered her the most. And, eventually, this overwhelming need for her own personal freedom drove her to think of ways to escape. The problems were obvious.
The chain and dog collar around her neck were permanent items. On some schedule she never quite figured out, either Mr. Valentine or the maid would come in and take her to the shower.
She shuddered thinking of one time when Mr. Valentine had seen to her bath. He had damned near drowned her while he was fucking her. And he had laughed! The bastard had laughed when she came up sputtering water, almost dead.
It was out of the question for her to force the lock on the collar. It was the best money could buy. And she was hardly dressed so that she could figure a way to pick the lock. Clad normally in just the black garter belt and stockings didn't provide her with much in the way of material for an escape.
The only key she knew of to her dog collar was on a string around Mr. Valentine's neck. Getting to it would be difficult because he was on a kick now where he bound her hands behind her back using the soft leather cuffs. Once he got her into this position, she was helpless and at his mercy until he had finished.
Bars on the windows, a sturdy lock on her bedroom door, even if she did escape her dog collar, those would thwart her escape from the mansion. The only route out seemed to be via Mr. Valentine. She would have to wait for him to make a mistake, then act swiftly on it.
Almost on cue, as she thought of the man, Mr. Valentine came striding into the room, an arrogant look on his face. She sighed softly to herself. Whenever he looked this smug, she was in for a hard time.
A very hard, painful time.
"On your feet, slave. I would take my pleasure with you."
She stood. Vicki had long since learned that it wasn't a good thing for her to buck Mr. Valentine, even when he demanded it from her. He had nasty ways of punishing her that seemed to last an eternity.
She hadn't thought the old fashioned stocks like the Puritans used could be much of a torture. She had been wrong. Having honey dipped all over her tits and twat and then having ants released onto her tender body had been sheer agony. Feeling the tiny insects nipping away at her flesh, even going up into her cunt, had almost driven her out of her mind.
Mr. Valentine wasn't a nice man.
"On the bed, slave. I want to fuck you."
It wasn't going to be that simple. She could see him pulling out the leather cuffs he fastened to both, her wrists and ankles. Whatever he had in mind, it wasn't an ordinary fucking. But she obeyed.
The velvet bedspread was soft on her back. And when he fixed the cuffs to her, she tried not to shiver or cry out. He fastened her wrists over her head to a ring mounted in the wall. Looking up, she could see how this pulled her tits almost flat on her body. Her nipples looked like two fried eggs.
It was terrible. But the view wasn't there for long.
The other cuffs went onto her ankles and then the man bent her double fixing her legs to the same ring where her hands were already securely chained.
She was bent double, her cunt widely exposed to the man's every carnal desire.
"Good. Now, slave, get your cunt all juiced up for my cock."
The way he said it, it was as if he figured she could summon up her cunt oils on demand. It wasn't that easy. But she was his slave and he expected her to deliver whatever he requested. It was that simple – for the man.
Then he was on her, his chest pressing down hard into the bottoms of her thighs. This forced her legs down into her tits. She felt as if she were being permanently folded in the belly.
His cock sought and found her dry cunt. But it didn't stay dry for long. Regardless of what he did to her, he was a fine cocksman. He could use that prick better than any man she'd ever found. This was why she would have considered being his mistress – minus all the chains and whips.
But he wasn't going to give her the chance. He had purchased her fair and square. She was his slave.
He didn't need her cooperation. He could take whatever he wanted from her. And that seemed to be the way he preferred it. A man as rich and powerful as he was could have had any woman. And once in bed with him hand his pussy pleaser, any woman would have wanted to stay.
If only he didn't want to tie her up before he fucked her!
His cock drove into her snatch – hard. She shuddered with the impact of his groin against hers. He started a tiny circular motion that ground their crotches together. She was sobbing now from arousal. Her cunt was coming alive with desire.
She wanted that cock to really fuck her.
To hell with being tied up, bent double, humiliated. What she wanted was so simple. Cock!
"Fuck me good, master, I want it so baddddddd!"
"Of course I'll fuck you good, you stupid bitch. Your master is supreme at this! Every time is good!"
She couldn't argue with him. The words wouldn't form on her lips. Breath coming harder, she felt her tits rubbing against her upper thighs. Every time he fucked into her gaping cunt, he pressed her legs down onto her nipples. The tiny little nubbins were soon hard and erect with excited blood.
And the friction in her pussy was burning her up! This was the way fucking should be all the time!
Her entire body was slowly coming alive, responding to the man's powerful strokes deep into her cunt. She tensed her pussy walls around his cock to let him know how much she cared for him, how much she wanted to please him. She felt his prick dance with joy as it drove ever farther into her belly.
She was succeeding!
Her legs were beginning to hurt but she ignored them. The stay with Mr. Valentine had turned her into something of an acrobat. She could bend herself into a pretzel now and not really feel too much strain. She was limber now than ever before.
And she needed it for some of the weird positions he demanded that they fuck in.
The cock seared into her gripping cunt. The man grunted in surprise as her entire cunt convulsed with orgasm. The friction of his cock against her cunt walls had set off the ultimate human response. As the orgasm ripped through her, she was moaning loudly.
"So nice, I love this! So good, that cock! So niiiice!"
He fucked harder. Each inward thrust rocked her back onto her shoulders. Bent double as she was, chain around her neck and hands and feet fled together over her head, she found that the feelings caused by the fucking were even more intense. The girl had been learning to use all the pain and discomfort as a comparison for the wondrous feelings of his cock delving hard into her pussy.
She came again.
And this seemed to upset Mr. Valentine.
He began fucking hot with the wild need of a man denied sex for months and months. His cock threatened to burn her cunt walls up. And still she loved the feel of his prick surging into her cunt. He could fuck her all day like this and she would only beg for more.
This was so much better than having him string her up and fuck her as she swung to and fro. Or making her bark like a dog. That degraded her more than she cared to admit. Yet, she had come to like those horrible things while she had been captive here.
She was beginning to get off in a big way on the degradation he was so expert at handing out to her. Even the ropes and chains binding her to posts and beds were at the point of turning her on.
It was sexy being tied up, then fucked. She was discovering entire new vistas to her personality. The girl was actually looking forward to the sessions with Mr. Valentine that didn't cause her excruciating pain.
And even those, at times…
"What's wrong with you?" he bellowed.
"Hmmmm?" she dreamily replied. "Wrong? Nothing, master. Your slave is just lusting after more of your prick. Fuck me faster!"
"Fuck you faster! Goddamn!"
Her cunt was suddenly empty as he pulled out. She felt a cool breeze caress her rigid cunt lips and then she began to shiver. Not knowing what she had said to infuriate the man, she decided to say nothing more.
"You claim to like this to make me angry, is that it? I'll show you, you stupid cunt!"
He quickly unfastened her wrists and ankles.
The pain gouging into her belly was almost enough to give her cramps, but she kept her muscle spasms under control. She had to if she wanted to escape the torment of the long whip he was uncurling from the wall.
She jumped, but not soon enough to avoid the painful lash of the whip across her upper arm. She cringed at the pain, bit back a loud outcry of rage, then rolled to avoid the second lash already singing through the air.
This licked lightly over her ass as she scampered to the other side of the round bed. But the man was furious. She knew that nothing would appease him short of blood.
Then he seemed to calm and the storm clouds in his face hardened into something more brutal, mote calculating.
"Stand still, slave," he commanded.
Something made the teenager obey. Never in her eighteen years had she heard a man use that tone of voice to a woman. This wasn't going to be pretty, but she could guess what her fate might be if she disobeyed him flow.
The whip lashed, through the air and lightly touched her belly. There was almost no sting. Her white skin turned a rosy color, then quickly went back to normal. By then, the whip was dancing through the air, a sinuous length looking more like a living creature than a whip of harsh leather.
The tip cut through one of the frilly bands on her garter belt. Then another and another was cut. Finally Mr. Valentine's whip cut the frilly lace of the garter belt itself. From around her waist, the garter belt fluttered to the floor.
"Don't move," the man cautioned her again. It was obvious he was getting a charge from his little expertise with the whip. She could see his hardon jerking lustily in front of his crotch. The man was actually getting off on this in a big way.
She almost expected him to jerk off while he was wielding the whip. But he didn't touch his prick. He was too intent on the girl's frightened face, the way she cringed with every snap of his whip.
He began stripping off the mesh stockings from her legs. And his aim wasn't as good – or he was deliberately inflicting pain now. Each time the leather caressed her leg, it took a little bigger bite from her soft flesh. Streams of blood oozed up from the welts on her creamy skinned legs and began dribbling down her legs.
"Dance," he ordered. "Dance for your master."
She danced. She didn't know exactly what he wanted but she soon found out. The whip educated her quickly. It licked painfully across her ass, sought her cunt lips, hit her tits. Anywhere it might cause pain, the whip landed.
And the man laughed with gusto. This was pleasing him more than any of the fucking ever had.
As the whip sang and whistled through the air, Vicki began thinking of escape. This was slowly becoming uppermost in her mind. While the man had been fucking her, she could forget about such things. She could ignore the pain because the fucking was so good – or even, the pain contributed even more to the fucking.
She didn't know.
But now she was anxious to get away from this awful, evil man in any way she could.
Almost without thought, her arm reached out. The whip painfully curled around it, cutting deep in her flesh. But she yanked as hard as she could. The man was taken by surprise and fell forward, off balance.
He hit his head on the post beside the bed, momentarily stunning him.
"Ummm, my head," he moaned, putting his hand to a bloody wet spot on his temple. "I'll get you for this! You'll pay your dues in pain!"
Still acting on instinct, Vicki stripped off one of her tattered mesh stockings and quickly stepped behind her would-be master. The stocking went easily around his neck. She pulled hard.
As he tried to roll to one side to escape the strangling stockings, she remembered her first day in his mansion. She placed her knee in the small of his back and pulled even harder. When he had passed out from lack of air, she released him. He fell limply to the rug.
For a long minute, Vicki didn't know what to do. She had attacked her master!
Then the ingrained training he had beaten into her weakened. She realized this might be the only chance she ever got to escape. Reaching down into the front of the man's shirt, she found the key to her dog collar. For the first time in weeks, perhaps months, the thick leather collar studded with spikes came off.
Breathing more easily, she searched the man for more keys. There was only the key to her door. But that would be enough, she knew. If she could tie him up, she could run away from here.
But simply tying him up wouldn't do. The man would be free too soon. And besides, she owed him something. She owed him for one hell of a lot of pain and agony during her stay in this velvet covered prison.
Vicki looked around the room, then slowly cast a glance at the ceiling. In a flash, everything came together in her mind. She moved a big chair under an eyebolt in the ceiling. A loop of rope went through the ring and around her master's neck in a noose.
As he slowly regained consciousness, the girl began to pull. When he was standing on the chair, on tiptoe, trying to get noose off his neck, she fastened the loose end to the post beside the bed. Then she moved faster and with more certainty than she had thought possible.
The cuffs came off her wrists and went around Mr. Valentine's. In a twinkling of an eye, she had the man's hands bound behind his back. He was standing on tiptoe to keep from hanging himself and his hands were securely fastened behind his back.
He looked like the victim of a lynch mob. And that was the best sight Vicki could have witnessed.
She sat on the bed and laughed hysterically. It was such a relief seeing Mr. Valentine, her tormentor for so long, tied up like this.
"Let… let me loose, you fool!"
"Not on your sweet life. You know, Mr. Valentine, I heard that men get even bigger hardons when the blood's being cut off to their heads. Something about bigger blood vessels or something. I want to try it and see."
"Stop it this instant!"
Then she had his cock in her mouth, sucking hard. She felt his prick twitch and jerk passionately. And, she discovered, she was right. Cutting off some of the blood to his brain was actually making his cock grow larger. She could even tell that the man was getting more of a sexual thrill out of this blow job than he ever had from anything else she'd done for him in the past weeks.
She was strangling him to death and giving him the blow job of his life. It seemed a fair trade.
She sucked harder. Her tongue began whirling around the end of his cock. The huge purpled glands was literally pulsating with lust. She sucked and tried to stuff her tongue down his piss-slit. This caused the man to groan and begin trying to move.
For a moment, she took her lips away from his cock and warned, "Move much and you'll fall off the chair. That'll hang you."
But the head she was giving him must have been more intense than she believed possible. He wasn't able to stop shifting his weight from one foot to the other in a vain attempt to stuff his prick all the way into her mouth.
She decided to give him a real thrill – a last thrill. She started face fucking herself. Her head bobbed up and down the length of his prick. Her teeth scored red markings on the top and bottom of his cock until the man was screaming out his lust. Then she bobbed a bit farther and felt his prick sail down her throat.
She gave the man a good accounting, then moved back to where she could let her tongue dance all over the tip of his cock. She ran her tongue across the underside of his prick until the cock exploded in a wild surge of jism.
Sucking hard, she gobbled up every trace of his come. The pearly white man seed was milked entirely from his balls by the time her mouth moved away from his prick. But miraculously, he stayed erect. His boner had hardly changed after he came.
So she sucked some more. There wasn't any jism locked up in his balls, but the half-hanging obviously did great things for his cock. He kept that hardon longer than any other man the girl had ever even heard about. She figured Mr. Valentine for a world record erection. Even when her jaws tired of wrapping her mouth around his cock, he was still half-erect.
"Cotta go master," she said sarcastically. Vicki knew he wouldn't be able to cry out. The noose was too tight around his neck. And standing on tiptoes insured he wouldn't get loose easily. The hands fled behind his back simply added to it.
One slip and he hanged himself. It was that simple.
Vicki went to the closet that had been denied her and rummaged through the clothes. She found several really attractive, expensive outfits. She stuffed these into a small bag. She found no bras but this didn't bother her. And the only panties had no crotches in them.
She turned to the dangling Mr. Valentine and did, "You're a dirty old man, you know? Imagine. All those panties and not a one with a crotch. Oh well, beggars can't be choosers."
Lithely, she climbed into a sexy pair. Then she donned an outfit that cost at least a thousand. Knee high boots finished the outfit. She picked up her bag, went to the door and unlocked it, turned and said, "I don't think we'll be seeing each other again, Mr. Valentine."