Robert Vickers: His daughter_s keeper

She rubbed across her belly trying to erase some of the hurt she had received. The skin prickled wherever the tongue had dragged across her flesh and left sticky spit. Even her legs tingled and itched from the dried saliva. But it was her pussy that sang the song of delight. She had gotten off at long last. While the tongue had left her asshole too soon, she didn't have that insatiable gnawing hunger in her body that she'd felt before after each of her sexual encounters.

"Wh-what are you going to do to me, master?" The last word still sounded foreign to her, yet if it helped keep him from abusing her more she would do anything, even calling him master.

"You must learn to obey me without question – and instantly. There can be no margin for dispute when I give an order. On your feet, bitch."

She quickly rose, only to be snapped back by the short length of chain around her neck. She felt her neck tense and the air was momentarily cut off. All she could do was gasp out, "I can't stand! The chain is too short for that!"

Mr. Strong shook his head from side to side as if rebuking a small child. "You didn't obey me. Now I shall really have to discipline you severely." He turned and walked to the cabinet that Carole had come to hate so much. That was where he kept the riding crop he had whipped her with before fucking her ass. And that was where the extra chains and locks were stored. She didn't know what else was within and didn't think she would enjoy finding out, either.

She furrowed her brows as she watched the man pull out a rubber sack that looked something like a hot water bottle. He filled it with various liquids from bottles, then hoisted the filled bladder and hung it from one of the hooks in the ceiling. Then he turned to Carole and said, "Over here. Immediately, you dumb cunt."

"But, master, the chain! I can't!"

"Excuses, all the time excuses. I see I shall have to do everything for you." He went to the head of the bed and worked at the lock for a moment. Carole bit back a sarcastic remark about him hurrying. She knew such would only increase the man's vengeance. She had no idea what was going to happen, but it wouldn't be nice.

He dragged her to a spot just under the bag filled with the noxious liquids. Carole saw an empty kerosene bottle and a couple plastic bottles which could have contained anything from battery acid to distilled water. The man came and ran a tube into the bottom of the bloated sack.

The way he held the end of the tube told Carole immediately what he intended doing, with it. She backed away, saying, "No you don't. You're not stuffing that Goddamn thing up my ass!"

The way he held the end of the tube told Carole immediately what he intended doing with it. She backed away, saying, "No you don't. You're not stuffing that Goddamn thing up my ass!"

A tiny smile crept to the corners of his mouth. He said nothing as he grabbed her. A brief fight and she was overpowered, as she knew she might be. What really irritated the teenager was the ease and contempt with which the man snared her. A quick movement and a pair of handcuffs held her hands firmly behind her back.

"Stand straight, damn you!" he snapped. Then he shoved the tube all the way up her ass. She felt the tube bite into her asshole, then snake its way up into her bowels. The plastic hose was limber and followed the curves of her bowels for several inches. In a way, it wasn't uncomfortable the way she thought it would be. It was even a bit sexy.

Then came the agony.

He opened a tiny valve on the bag and the hot, burning fluid came gushing into her bowels. She screamed as the hot liquid seared its way into her body. She tried twisting away, hoping the tube would fall out. Strong arms held her rigidly in place.

He hissed, "Move and I'll beat you until the flesh falls off your battered bones!"

The way he said it told the teenager that he meant every last word of it. She didn't dare move, no matter what pain she got from the enema.

"It's hot! It's burning me up inside!" she complained.

"Dumb cunt," he snarled. "Of course it's hot. If it had been cold, it would have killed you. Now I want you to listen carefully. I'll beat you like you've never been beaten before if you don't obey my every command. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma-master!" she stuttered.

"When that bag is empty, I'll remove the tube from your ass. I don't want one singe drop to leak from your asshole. Not one drop. If it happens, you'll know real agony."

"What are you going to do to me?"

"Master! Call me master!" He slapped her with the palm of his hand. The resounding, stinging slap echoed throughout the room. The girl fell to her knees, momentarily stunned.

"Don't let one drop out!" he repeated. She had to concentrate to clear the pain from her check and to keep her asshole clamped tightly on the tube. She'd felt the first stirring of a drop of the burning acid going into her guts squirting around the tube.

"Wh-what are you going to do with me, master? After the – oh, it hurts! – after it's in me?"

He only smiled. That gave her agile imagination more than enough time to come up with a dozen horrifying possibilities.

She felt bloated as the liquid flowed into her intestines and distended her gut. The hot kerosene mixture seared at her innards and made the slightest movement painful. She cursed him silently, hoping he would die a messy death. She even wished she could trade places and do this to him. That would be a fine revenge.

The door opened and in came Miss Olson. The woman smiled knowingly and said, "Is the bitch obeying you properly, Mr. Strong?"

"Of course she is. I can control her without any aid from you."

The woman's face fell a little. "I had wanted to whip her ass a little. I have this new whip I wanted to try out. It needs blood to get the newness worn off it." She pulled out a short whip and snapped it in the air under Carole's nose. The girl flinched but something made her control her bowels. She didn't let one single drop of the hot kerosene going into her body out.

Displeasing Mr. Strong overrode her fear of Miss Olson.

"That will be enough, Miss Olson."

"Can I watch?"

"No."

That singe word caused the woman to blanch. Carole didn't understand the relationship between the two but it was obviously complex. And Mr. Strong had just given a firm, final command. Miss Olson hastily left the room. Carole almost allowed herself to breath a sigh of relief. Yet, that wasn't quite possible.

Not with a gut full of fuming hot kerosene enema.

"I could have used wine, then made you drink it," the man said in a conversational tone. "But I've tried that already. It wasn't entirely successful from my point of view. It disciplined the girl properly, but it also broke her spirit. I think you're made of sterner stuff, but I don't want to take the chance. Any of the kerosene leaking from your ass?"

"No, master. None!"

"You lie!" he roared. "Bend over and allow me to check!"

She did as she was ordered, even though the simple act of bending at the waist caused intense pressure to build up in her belly. The enema had almost entirely filled her intestines now. There was even a hint of vomiting beginning to assail her. She held down the urge. She knew Mr. Strong would not like that at all.

His fingers probed into the deep crevice between her meaty asscheeks. He pressed the tube a bit farther into her asshole, then stroked up and down her smoothly curving buttocks. He cupped each of the moons in his hand and squeezed.

The girl found this excitingly different and would have really turned her on except for the enema burning brightly in her guts. Still, a little thrill went into her cunt and began to form her fuck fluids.

The man didn't miss this. His finger dipped into her cunt and came out, filmed with her cunt oils. "So, you're hot for me, eh? Even though I am disciplining you?"