There was a quick glance between the two truckers, then Keith said, 'Sir, you got yourself a deal!'
CHAPTER SIX
Vicki sat on the edge of the seat, at rigid attention. Her back was beginning to ache but she said nothing. Those had been her orders.
She felt as if she'd been inducted into the military. The commands, snapped out, the outrageous orders to do this and do that. She was to sit perfectly still on the front two inches of the seat, eyes forward, back braced.
Still, she was able to see a bit of the countryside through which the large limousine drove. These weren't the farms she'd first thought but instead was nothing but one palatial mansion after another. Each huge house was surrounded by hundreds of acres of landscaped lawn. It would exist millions to buy one of those homes.
And she was being driven up the long, winding driveway to the biggest and most lavish of all the houses.
Mr. Valentine obviously was filthy rich.
'The servant's entrance, James,' he told the driver. When they pulled to the side of the house, Mr. Valentine gave Vicki a hard shove out the door and said, 'The maid will feed you in the kitchen.'
Then the car drove around to the front of the house. Vicki didn't know what to do. She could run. But it was miles and miles to the highway. And she doubted if Mr. Valentine would take kindly to his purchased slave running away. He might send dogs after her.
The teenager shivered at the thought. She hated dogs. She imagined their huge jaws opening to devour her. To feel the pain of their teeth chewing on her arms, her legs.
Then flight was impossible. The maid came out and grabbed her by the arm. Pulling her inside, the maid told her, 'The master wants you to eat. Then, he'll personally see to your accommodation lions.'
Vicki had to look twice to see what was wrong with the maid's uniform. It seemed trim and proper enough – until she turned around.
There was the maid's perky ass, all neat and round and naked. The rest of the uniform was ordinary but there was no back to the prim costume. This was one kinky household!
'What… what am I supposed to do?'
'Eat.'
And that was all Vicki could get from the maid. She watched as the woman set the table with fine silver and served a meal such as the young girl had never before seen the likes of. It was just as if she'd gone to the finest restaurant and ordered an expensive meal.
And this was mid-day snack!
Just as she was finishing, the maid returned and said to her, 'Upstairs. At the head of the stairs and to the right you will find your room. It's the… master's bedroom.'
The words rang like doom in Vicki's ears. She hadn't been purchased for pure ornamental qualities. She was going to have to put out to survive around here. And she guessed that Mr. Valentine could be ruthless if he was ever crossed.
Like a zombie, she walked up the stairs. Her nakedness bothered her again for the first time since she'd sucked Mr. Valentine off. She tried shielding her tits with one arm and her exposed gash with the other. It all seemed so ineffectual.
Standing in front of the door to her bedroom, she knew fear, real fear, for the first time. The door was padded in red leather and heavily studded with brass. This wasn't the doorway to any ordinary bedroom. She could tell that right off.
Opening it and staring into the room convinced her she was right. The room was dominated by a huge round bed. Over it and on the walls behind and to one side were mirrors. But it wasn't the plush rugs or the gold ornaments towering to each side of the bed that impressed her the most.
It was the set of chains dangling near the bed. Large metallic links descended and looped toward the bed, like a leash for a huge animal. And the thick leather collar with the spikes on it convinced her just what that animal was. Her.
She was going to be chained in this room. And from the weighty chains, it would take a hell of a lot more strength than she possessed to ever break free.
'Enter,' came the cold words, hidden and aloof.
She involuntarily obeyed. It was as if her will had been sapped totally. She jumped as the door silently closed all by himself behind her. The soft rug muffled the sounds of her feet moving toward the bed. And then she saw her own reflections in the minors around and over the bed.
She looked like some Greek Goddess striding forward. Her tits were proud and up thrust. She could see the coppery rims of her nipples plainly in the crystal-clear mirrors. And her bush was neat like a brown arrow pointing directly down into more interesting territory.
Ass flaring out into very womanly hips, the girl knew fully then why Mr. Valentine had bought her for such a large sum of money.
It would be a cold day in hell before she ever left this room again. She knew that with all her soul.
'Sit on the bed,' came cold words from the side of the room. Vicki jumped a foot at the suddenness of it. Her heart hammering fiercely, she put a hand to her trembling lips.
'You scared me,' she admitted. Mr. Valentine was standing there, hands on his hips as if he disapproved of everything he saw.
'The bed. Sit on it, slave. And from henceforth, you will call me master. Is that clear?'
'I guess so.'
And Vicki was rewarded by a backhanded slap across the face. He said, his voice never changing pitch, 'I ordered you to address me as master. Do so!'
'Y-yes, master!' she blurted. The girl was beginning to feel really afraid again. For a while, it had seemed almost a game to her. Now the cold reality of it all came crashing down on her slim shoulders. She wasn't sure she could bear up under the burden.
He shoved her to a sitting position on the bed. She twitched her ass just a little as she felt the soft velvet crush under her naked bottom. It was so soothing, so nice. And the bedspread must have cost a fortune. She couldn't believe such richness, such a wild spending of money on things that didn't really matter.
Her hands nervously rubbed across the bedspread, then worked under the thick covering. Satin sheets covered the bed. There was no expense spared when comfort and sheer sensuality was at stake in this household.
And she knew whose pleasure was being catered to. And it wasn't hers. It was the man standing before her, towering high above as he reached out and took the dog collar in his hands.
'This is yours,' he said. Before she could move, he had it snapped shut around her neck.
She reached up a trembling hand and touched it. She wanted to scream, to rip and tear at it. But the thick leather band was too tough for her. And the tiny spikes sticking from it would have prevented her from really grabbing it tightly enough to pull.
Mr. Valentine – her master – ran a thin chain from the post beside the bed and fastened it to a ring on the back of her collar. He stepped back and looked at her, an evil sparkle in his eyes for the first time.
'On your hands and knees, slave. Your master wants you.'
'I'm not your Goddamn fucking slave!' she cried. 'And my name is Vicki Craig! Do you hear me!'
He must have for he slapped her – hard. Ears ringing, the girl slumped to the softness of the bed. When he grabbed her by the leg and dumped her onto the floor, she was sobbing out loud.
'On your hands and knees, slave,' he repeated as if nothing had happened. 'And if you don't,' he added, 'I have a fine collection of whips.'
She turned frightened eyes up to the man. Then she looked past him to a rack on the far wall. Hung there were long whips and short. A riding crop with a nasty looking snapper on the end was even an ugly red hue that she thought must be dried blood. But it was the long blacksnake whip which seemed to fill up her universe.
