Frantic, her mouth sucked even harder on the end of the man's cock. She used her tongue as a rough, wet battering ram to try and force entry down his piss-slit. It wasn't possible. But it got him hotter than he had been. She could tell by the way his heart beat was echoing through his entire prick.
Running her tongue back and forth across the tiny triangular flap of skin dangling under his cock's head, she tried to make him come – fast. It was working, but not fast enough for the girl.
She felt her asshole losing its battle to keep in the fiery flood of the kerosene enema. She licked faster. She had to suck him off before that oozed from her ass.
The tiny drop of pre-cum was bitter against her tongue, but it was the sweetest thing she could remember. His come wasn't far off. She redoubled her efforts on his cock.
Twisting her head from side to side wasn't quite the same as face fucking herself, but it accomplished the same end. She managed to pull and stretch the skin on the man's cock. This tightened up the hairy bag containing his balls and lit his fuse.
He exploded with a rush into her mouth.
And all the time she was drinking down his pearly white come, she was thinking of the vibrator up her gooey cunt and the burning, hot, corrosive enema searing all the way up into her intestines.
When her neck tightened up to the point where she could barely move it due to the stiff muscles, she realized that the cock was going limp under her tongue.
She let it slip out.
And immediately fell face first onto the rug. She wasn't hurt but the tumble had made her lose control of her asshole. The kerosene and shit came gushing from her anus in a torrent.
The man said nothing. He glared down at her, then turned and walked off, leaving her in a pool of liquid shit, tied up double with the vibrator still in her cunt.
And there she stayed for another twenty-four hours.
CHAPTER TEN
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?'
