The chain around her neck was threatening to choke her again. The girl tried to maneuver around so she would be in a little better position. He prevented it.
She felt the thick purpled glands of his prick spread apart her anal sphincter muscle. The tight anus had been denying him entry up her back. But her asshole surrendered to Mr. Valentine's pressure.
The cock surged all the way up her back when the anus simply relaxed. She screamed out, "Aiieee!" as the pain filled her and threatened to drive her mad.
She had been possessed of a large amount of sexual tension in her body. He drove it all out. Nothing but pain remained in the young girl's body. And he was fucking her ass, making sure his cock gave her nothing but more pain and discomfort.
The weak feeling in her bowels spread. Her guts turned to water. And then she cried openly. She had been holding it all in trying not to show the man how terrified she was. It no longer mattered. He had to know the full extent of her fear. The way she was shaking was just a beginning at telling him how she loathed him, feared him, hated him.
"So tight! I like my slaves to have tight asses. I love fucking my slaves up the ass!" he bellowed.
And he lustily fucked her butt. The girl was so shaken by now, she didn't know what to do or say. She wanted to enjoy this ass fucking. She usually did in the past. Sometimes, it had hurt – bad – but it was always so nice in the end.
Not now. Not this time.
He was reaming her out good and it hurt as bad as anything Vicki could remember.
"Your ass is hot, too. I love that! And the way your assflesh is on fire! I can feel it seeping into my skin!"
Every word blazed a path to her brain. She knew he was mouthing those words to get to her. If he had been yelling obscenities it wouldn't have been so bad. She could have stood that.
But he seemed to enjoy tormenting her with the cold, almost emotionless words. And he pointed out each and every thing that would hurt her the most if she noticed it.
Like her assflesh. Where he'd whipped her was burning just like he had rubbed a red hot poker over her flesh. It warmed her guts, true, but it also hurt like hell. She wasn't able to think of much else after he had told her how he loved her butt whipped.
And her asshole was so tight due to his huge prick backing into her bowels. She couldn't stand the way he stretched her to the breaking point. But how could she run? She couldn't fight him off. She had that Goddamn dog collar fastened around her neck. And that was chained to a sturdy post beside the bed.
She was his prisoner and he could do anything he wanted with her. She would just have to accept that.
But the pain! The humiliation!
She was sobbing hard even as he butt fucked her. The man was cornholing her with a vengeance now. She felt the heat of his fucking burn into her anus, then spread. It mingled with the heat from her spanked ass and then exploded in a wild frenzy around her cunt.
Gasping for air, she came.
It took her totally by surprise. No matter how brutal he could be to her, she had gotten her rocks off. And that horrified the young girl. She was getting off on this degradation. She was getting a sexual charge out of being whipped and butt fucked!
She found herself hating. And hating not only Mr. Valentine and all he was doing, but herself. She hated herself for loving this, for responding to his brutal attentions.
"You like it, don't you, slave?" he demanded.
All the while he was talking, his cock seared into her asshole. Each thrust shook her teeth, restled her senses, made her long for death, but death wasn't for her. She was going to be fucked until she could no longer bear it.
Mr. Valentine would see to that.
"Admit it, cunt, you like this. Don't you? Don't you?" he repeated.
"Yes, damn you, yes! I do like it!"
She was shocked at her own words. She had thought about lying to appease her master. But as the words gushed from between her lips, she knew she wasn't simply saying all that.
She liked what he was doing to her. She had gotten off on it once and the girl could even feel the beginnings of another come building in her loins.
She more than liked it, she needed it!
"Fuck faster! Burn up my ass with your cock!"
"You didn't call me master!"
She felt the sting of the riding crop across her shoulders. She didn't even want to think how he had dropped the long, ugly whip and picked up the shorter riding crop. He simply had. And he was beating her with it.
Just like she was some race horse. He whipped her on.
"Fuck me, master!" she corrected herself. She was hardly aware that she had said those vile words. She didn't want to call him master. She wanted to mouth obscenities, to tell him what she really thought of him.
But she called him master and demanded he fuck her even more than he was doing.
Her entire world was wrapped around the man's prick driving into her asshole. She tensed up just enough to clamp down on his cock. The man groaned out loud.
This made the teenager feel a surge of pleasure.
She was able to torture the man! She was able to get even with him – but in a totally erotic way. Her asshole tightened like a hangman's noose around the end of his prick.
She felt her muscles spasm once as the strain got to her, but that was all right. She was giving him pleasure. She was giving her pew master all he could handle.
The teenager came again when the riding crop smashed into her shoulders.
Mr. Valentine groaned and then she felt the hot gush of his sperm and semen blasting into her back passage. Her entire rectum was filled with his jism before he finished coming.
The girl wanted to collapse but there was still so much locked up in her tender young body. The sexual tensions had mounted to the point where even a dozen comes wouldn't help her.
And the way her tortured body felt confused her. The pain was nagging and tearing at her consciousness. The way he had beaten her ass raw and then fucked it made her sob in agony.
Still, the way he had fucked that small asshole made up for it. She was afire inside. And it was a good, warm feeling. But most of all, the lashings across her shoulders confused her. They were both good and terrible depending on whether his cock was sliding slickly into her ass or pulling out to leave her empty inside.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Vicki slept. She curled up on the soft, deep-piled rug and slept like a baby. It was many hours later when the maid awakened her. She looked up, rubbed blurred eyes and then suddenly asked, "What time is it?"
The maid calmly answered, "Time means nothing to us. Only the master is able to answer your question and he won't. What difference does it make? You're not going anywhere."
Vicki looked to the single window in the room. The light was coming through the window and casting a peculiar pattern on the floor. It took her a couple minutes to realize this would be the pattern caused by light shining through bars.
The window of her room was barred!
But she wasn't able to go over to it and check it out firsthand. The chain fastened to the collar around her neck was too short by several feet. And besides, even if it had been long enough, the best she could have done was jump out and hang herself.
No, she wasn't going anywhere.
Mr. Valentine had thought of everything.
"Eat," the maid told her. Then she turned and left. But Vicki saw the red lash marks making erotic patterns on the maid's ass. She, too, had been whipped brutally. The girl wondered if the maid had then been fucked.
Probably. And maybe even in ways worse than she had. After all, it wasn't that bad getting fucked while on a nice, soft carpet. The chain and dog collar around her neck got in the way, but not that much.
What if Mr. Valentine had whipped the maid's butt, then bent her over a hot stove to fuck her from behind? The woman's tits would have been in danger of being seared off.