Robert Vickers - His daughter_s keeper

And the fucking! She didn't know whether to thank the man or kill him for that. She'd gotten off at unexpected times, but he had denied her the final satisfaction of a climax. That had left her needy and wanting. Her entire body had hurt, bit the crying hunger in her cunt was the worst of all. She hadn't been able to get a nice, realistic relationship built up with anyone except Clive. Only he had given her pleasure when she needed it. Miss Olson took a fiendish delight in tormenting her, and Mr. Strong was even worse. His cold blooded calculating desire to humiliate her seemed like a general's battle plan.

She tossed her head and felt the chain snap hard. She swallowed hard and tugged futilely at the dog collar around her neck. A quick study of it told Carole that it was impossible for her to break the thick leather band or snap the metal links of the chain. As long as it was in place, she wouldn't be able to stray more than a few paces from the bed. She couldn't even reach the window and took out.

The girl tried to analyze what all had happened and found it jumbled up in her head. She didn't even know where she was. The huge mansion of Mr. Strong might be anywhere within an hour's drive of her house – or a day's drive. The time spent in the silent, gliding Rolls Royce that had brought her here seemed unreal. When she wasn't feeling sorry for herself on that trip, she had been sucking off Clive.

The door opened and she turned to see Mr. Strong standing in the doorway, hands on his hips. She swallowed hard and self consciously her hand went to the collar around her neck. She hadn't realized how attractive the man could be.

Slim waist, powerful arms, massive chest, he looked like some God leaping from the pages of a history book. He had oiled his body and it gleamed in the dim light. Something stirred in the girl's body and made her begin to respond to him. She hated herself for it but she couldn't hold don the rising tide of passion she felt for him.

"Axe you going to do… that… to me again?" she asked, her voice almost breaking from nervous strain. Her wrists were still bruised lightly from where the cuffs had circled them and her shoulder muscles knotted painfully at the mere thought of being strung up like a side of beef.

"Do that again? Of course not. I explore. I experiment. I try to find the things that will give us both the maximum amount of pleasure. Consider me a scientist pushing back the dark frontiers of human experience."

"You mean you get your kicks torturing me in different ways each time?"

"Torture? Nothing of the sort. Don't lie and tell me you didn't enjoy that little session we had. I can't tolerate a liar."

She pursed her lips and began to feel stubborn. Yes, she had enjoyed parts of the fucking. But she wasn't going to admit that to him. That would degrade her even more than he was now. The mere idea that a man could do such a thing to her made her angry.

"I hated it!" she cried. "And I hate you!"

"Ah, you're lying on both counts. You loved it when I fucked your ass. You might have felt a little pain to begin with, but it was a new and wondrous experience. And hate when you refer to me? Hardly." His muscles flexed and she licked her lips as she saw the powerful play of sinews under his oiled skin.

"What are you going to do?"

"What are you going to do, master. That is the proper way of addressing me from here on; I think you will have to be shown respect and only a dominant attitude will suffice."

"What?"

"What, master," he said. "And that's the last time I will tell you. The next lapse of respect will cause me to discipline you. Severely."

"Go to hell, you miserable little turd! I hate the sight of you!"

She rolled over turning her back to him. And immediately found herself sliding across the bed at the end of the chain. She choked as he yanked hard on the cable but couldn't even utter a cry of rage. The words were stifled while in her throat.

"I warned you, slave. Now I must punish you." Quick hands produced a length of rope and he began wrapping the cord around her ankles. She fought. Kicking out, she landed blow after blow on his powerful body. He didn't even seem to notice although several bruises, green and blue and ugly, began to appear on his chest.

"Stop it, you son of a bitch! Stop it!" she screamed. She used her fingers to rake and claw for his eyes. He deftly avoided her. She cried out again as he managed to tie each, of her legs to the headboard of the bed. She was bent double again. Twisting to one side hoping to turn on the bed and escape the pretzel position, the girl rapidly found this was impossible. The chain around her neck threatened to strangle her.

As she struck out wildly at him, he snared first one wrist and then the other. Quick loops of rope tied them above her head. She was now firmly held on the bed, on her back, so that her hands and feet were both above her head. In this position, her legs were held straight and her cunt was widely exposed to whatever horrible things he wanted to do.

"Why are you doing this?"

"I am your master," came the slow response. "As soon as you learn that, perhaps then we shall do other things. Until then, you must be punished."

"I won't say it – ever! I'll die first!"

"That might be ranged." The words chilled the girl. She was just beginning to feel the effects of the position he had tied her in. The strain was across her stomach. She rolled backwards as much as she could and put some of the weight on her shoulders. This opened her pussy to his erotic exploration even more but she didn't care. Anything to stop the pain beginning to form in her gut.

He lightly stroked over her gaping pussy lips. A finger shot into her pussy, then came out, almost dry. "You must become more aroused when in my presence. Your master commands it."

She glared at him but didn't say a word. She didn't trust herself. If she told him exactly what she thought, he might really do something terrible to her. The position he had tied her in was uncomfortable but tolerable. If she had to stay here until hell froze over, she'd do it. But never would she call this horrible man "master".

"I am not going to fuck you. I am going to truly punish you now." He went to a cabinet and came back with a black velvet hood. He pulled it over the girl's head until she was cut off from the rest of the world. Blind, she had only her sense of feel to rely on. Even smell couldn't penetrate the thick bag on her head. She wondered at the faint sounds which reached her ears. The man had effectively imprisoned her in a dark world hoping to scare her.

"Go to hell!" she screamed again. The words seemed to be eaten by the thick fabric of the bag. She settled down and waited for him to fuck her. The teenager figured, that was all that remained. But she didn't even feel the lightest of touches on the bed. Carole thought she might have heard the door closing but the velvet bag muffled sounds effectively.

She lay there for what seemed an eternity, waiting, anticipating. Each second dragged like an hour. She didn't have any idea how long it was since Mr. Strong had trussed her up and blindfolded her. She thought it had to be at least an hour. Maybe two.

Or was it a full day. She didn't know. Time ceased to have meaning. All she had in the way of a clock was her own heartbeat, but attempts to count the number of beats failed. Her heart seemed to race, then still for long minutes. It reacted to the amount of fright she felt.

What if Mr. Strong forgot about her? She couldn't scream and attract attention. No one looked in on her that she knew of. Perhaps Clive might wonder and come looking for her and find her. But what if Mr. Strong had sent Clive away? Or what if Miss Olson wanted to see her competition for Mr. Strong's favor, dead. The woman wasn't above allowing the girl to die in the darkness and pain being inflicted on her.