Robert Vickers: His daughter_s keeper

"So this is the new acquisition, eh?" she said. The words dripped ice. While the woman's carefully glossed lips smiled, there was no hint of it in her eyes. She was inspecting Carole as she would a piece of meat ready to be cooked for dinner.

"Yes, Miss Olson," Clive said obediently, but the inflection he used told Carole there was nothing but hatred between them. He hated the black clad woman as much as he desired to maintain his position with Mr. Strong.

"What is this place?" Carole blurted out. "You've got me chained to the bed like I'm some kind of a dog and my hands are still lied and I've been sold and humiliated and…" The slap across her face silenced her. She collapsed to the soft surface of the bed and looked up at Miss Olson with an shocked expression. No one had ever slapped her before. The surprise of it, more than the sudden pain, silenced her.

"No questions, bitch. You will simply do as you are told and like it. Nothing else is expected of you." Miss Olson crossed her arms just under her tits causing theme to spill over the ledge of her arms. The sight made Carole vaguely uneasy and she couldn't immediately figure out why.

Then she understood. As the woman talked, her nipples were slowly growing. Whatever she was thinking about the teenager, it was turning her on in a big way. Carole repressed a shudder when that knowledge penetrated her numbed brain.

"Will there be anything else, Miss Olson?" Clive said quietly. The look of hatred in his eyes wasn't missed by Miss Olson. She sneered a little at him and started to motion him away, then stopped.

"Yes, Clive. There is. I want her naked. Undress her for me. With your teeth. Only your teeth." The leer on the woman's lips was cruel and promised agony if the man didn't obey her instantly.

"I'm not one of the slaves around here, Miss Olson. I've been in Mr. Strong's employ for several years. You can't make me do that."

"And I've been in Mr. Strong's bed for some little while, Clive. You may be a valued employee, but I'm a bit more than that. But of course you are right. I can't force you to do such a terrible thing. I suppose I'll have to undress her myself. Where is the black snake whip? I'll use that since I'd hardly want to touch her loathsome body with my fingers."

Carole cringed at the words. The woman intended to rip her clothing off using a whip! A frightened glance at Clive confirmed what she feared. Miss Olson was capable of any cruelty.

"Why don't you be a good butler, Clive, and go fetch that whip for me? The one with the bloodstains on it. The last time I missed every now and then. I really must practice more." She licked her lips with the tip of her pink tongue, obviously enjoying both the girl's fear and the man's disgust.

"What do you want me to do? Tear her clothes off with my mouth?"

"Yes, Clive darling… You've got the idea marvelously well. Mr. Strong was right when he said there wasn't a more loyal man in the whole world than you. Just get in there and rip her clothes off – without using your hands." The last words had the sharp bite of command.

He glanced at Carole as if imploring her not to be afraid. The girl couldn't be anything but terrified at this turn of events. She knew that Clive had saved her a lot of bruises, welts and cuts from a whipping, hut she wondered what his motive was. None of them seemed like humanitarians around this awful place.

She cringed as Clive moved closer to her on the bed, his teeth cracking like a dog's. He bent down and gripped the neck of her blouse in his strong teeth and began pulling. She flinched away and this caused the top three buttons to go spinning off wildly, clattering onto the floor.

"Ah, the slut has such nice tits. So young, so firm. They will be a real pleasure to play with," said Miss Olson, moving closer to the bed. Carole didn't miss the telltale wetspot spreading from the woman's snatch. She was getting hot watching the forced striptease.

Clive gave another yank and sent the last three buttons tumbling onto the bed. With a couple of jerks, he managed to pull the teenager's blouse entirely off her milky white shoulders. Like all redheads, she had translucent white skin that looked like marble but was vastly warmer than any cold stone could ever be. As if on impulse, he sent his tongue stroking across her left nipple.

Carole gasped in surprise. And she was even more astounded when she felt that nipple begin to fill with excited blood. The way her knockers felt, they might explode with all the agitated blood pumping into them. When Clive drew his rough tongue across her nipple again, she sighed and laid back on the bed, forgetting all about the dog collar fastened around her neck, the way her hands were bound behind her back and even about the evil Miss Olson watching so closely.

"Ummm, dye, that's delicious," she purred like a contented kitten. "Do it some more."

"Don't, Clive," came the cold order from Miss Olson. "I don't want you to do anything but strip her clothes off with your teeth. Leave such pleasures for those of us who can truly enjoy them."

He shot her a look of pure hatred, then glanced up into Carole's green eyes as if silently shrugging, then went to work on her jeans. The tough denim was too thick for him to rip apart as he had her blouse. He had to lick across her belly, dipping once down into the deep depression of her navel, and then slide his tongue under the snap. With his lips and tongue he finally succeeded in doing the impossible – her jeans were unfastened.

"Lift your hips, bitch," came the distant voice of Miss Olson. "Let him get those awful things stripped from your body. It's simply too glorious to hide with cheap fabric."

Carole obeyed. She seemed to be in a daze. Nothing quite was real. The tongue stroking avidly across her belly had aroused her as had the touch of that rough oral digit across her nipples and down her tits, but the way Miss Olson commanded them was a jarring feature in an otherwise pleasurable world. She felt Clive pulling her jeans down her legs. HIS tongue lightly brushed the inside of her thigh and a tingle shot electrically throughout her body. Her pussy began to drool in anticipation of his tongue all over her snatch. She couldn't even contain the sighs of delight escaping from her lips.

"The cunt likes your mouth, it seems," said Miss Olson. "Rip those panties off her. NOW!"

Clive jerked in response to the snapped order. Carole screamed in pain as the panties fled her body. The elastic band was pulled to the maximum, then it broke but not after cutting harshly into her soft flesh. And the way the crotch of her panties cut into her pussy lips was a crime. She felt a sudden ice pick of sensation drive all the way up into her cunt. The pain almost made her pass out.

She opened pain-blurred eyes and stared at Clive. Her panties dangled from his lips like some dog's prize from a mailman's trousers. The sight would have been funny but she couldn't find it in herself to laugh at him. The way he felt had to be as bad as the way she felt. Being ordered by the austere Miss Olson wasn't very nice.

"You've done well, Clive. Now you may leave. I'll ring for you when I'm ready for you to further instruct this cunt."

"Why are you doing this to us?" blurted Carole. "I've never done anything to you! Whatever he's done to you to make you humiliate him like this is between the two of you. Leave me out!"

Miss Olson smiled and said, "Clive has done nothing to me. He wouldn't dare. Would you, dye darling? No, he doesn't have the balls to do anything. He's a servant. Just as you are, my dear. You're here on earth for people like Mr. Strong and me to use. And I fully intend to use you."

"That's… evil!" Carole cried, not being able to think of any other word that would fit the situation. This was beyond her experience. Sold into virtual slavery, raped by her father, forced to suck off the butler, now chained like an animal, she didn't know what to do next.