Caging Cadence Ch. 04

If she couldn't see his kindness - if she took advantage of it just to twist his feelings against him - well, she had made her choice. She wanted to be treated like she was a worthless whore, not a captive princess. If that wasn't true, why was she fighting him so much, every single step of the way? Why couldn't she just let him be soft and sweet with her without making him regret it?

He had let his guard down once. Never again.

He was going to make her hurt for what she had done to him. For making him believe.

"I want you to listen carefully, because when I take my foot off your head, you're going to answer me. Whatever you say, I'll interpret it as your choice. So don't fuck it up with your bratty mouth."

She trembled underneath him, but didn't say anything. David took a deep breath.

"You have two options. The first - we go back into the closet, and I punish you. You've really, really fucked up this time, kiddo. It's not going to be some bittersweet orgasm torture, or fucking your cute little ass - which I know you loved, because you're a mindless, stupid slut."

Her hands clenched, but she still didn't speak. He could hear her breathing quicken - no longer panting, nearly hyperventilating. She was frightened. He hadn't even started threatening her yet. He had a sneaking suspicion she was wet, too - she was pressing her thighs together, her ankles and knees crossed. A ridiculous posture for attempting escape, but a convenient one for hiding her wetness, or trying to satisfy her need with clenching alone. The pose of a desperate, scared whore.

"I'm going to make you suffer. It's almost six o' clock - I'm going to give myself an hour in that room to do whatever I want to you. And I mean whatever I want - you think I don't care about hurting you? Let me prove to you that, so far, I've been gentle. I've been kind. I haven't come close to letting you see how sadistic I really am."

She trembled again, her hands unclenching. A little whine of fear escaped her.

"Don't like the sound of that? Awww. Why? Are you worried you can't handle it, sweetheart? I get it, it's okay. You're so delicate, and pretty, and sweet. You've never really been hurt before this weekend. It'll change you. That's the point. I want to make sure that every aspect of your life is different when we part ways at the end of all of this."

Another whine, or maybe a sob. It was hard to hear her as he continued talking, shifting his weight carefully.

"But you can make another change, instead, if you're too afraid of the pain. That's the second option."

He took his foot off her head. She lay still on the ground, not making any move to get up or escape him. He figured that meant he had her attention. He stepped around, kneeling down near her shoulders. She turned her head to look at him. Her hair was still spread out on the floor, dripping into her face. He gathered it up, brushing it away from her cheeks, making a loose bundle. When he had it all in his fist, he looked her straight in the eyes.

"You have such beautiful hair, Cadence. I bet you hear that all the time, right?"

She nodded, hesitantly.

"I want it."

She blinked, her brow furrowing. "What?"

"I want your hair. Call it a souvenir. We don't have to go into the closet. We can go downstairs instead. I'll order some Chinese food, we can watch a movie...maybe drink a little, if you're into that. Once you're comfortable, you'll take your punishment. In the kitchen, on a stool. Just you, me, and an electric razor."

"I don't -" Cadence's face clouded, and she glanced away. "I still don't understand."

David laughed coldly. "Of course you don't. Let me make it simple. Either you stand up, walk into that closet, and let me string you up for an hour - or you walk downstairs and let me shave your head."

"What?" Cadence gasped, looking stunned. "You can't be serious."

David licked his lips and swallowed. "I am. What did I say at the beginning of this conversation, Cadence? About interpreting your choice?"

"Wait, that wasn't - I haven't decided yet, sir, please -"

"It's time to."

Cadence shivered, her fingers uncertainly tapping against the carpet.

"Why?" she whispered, gazing up at him with wide, blue eyes. "Why would you want to do that to me?"

"Because it's humiliating," David said, simply. "It's demeaning and shameful. You really love your hair, don't you? It's a big part of what makes you so stunning."

"I thought you loved it, too," Cadence said quietly.

"I do," he said. "That's why I want to keep it. Since I don't get to keep you."

"All of it? Can't you just...cut it or something?"

"That's not the point, Cadence. Your femininity is bound up in your hair. That's the truth for many women. I want to change key aspects of you - I want to leave an indelible mark. Making you walk back into school with bruises under your clothes is my preference. Discretion and all of that. It's easy to hide bruises - harder to hide a bald head, or explain it. But I don't want you to think you don't have some choice in what happens to you here."

"I don't," Cadence said, her eyes welling up again. "You know it."

"I sure do," he said. "But you still seem to be struggling with the concept."

Cadence seemed to be considering, biting her lower lip and gazing around at the room around her as if it could provide an escape.

"And if we go into the closet instead..."

"I do whatever I can to make you hurt," David said, his voice low. "No limits."

That wasn't true. He wouldn't permanently disfigure her. He would try to avoid making her bleed. He wouldn't burn her or scar her.

That still left him with plenty of options.

"What's it gonna be, princess? The kitchen, or the closet?"

Cadence closed her eyes. After a long moment, she opened them again, meeting his gaze. She slowly started pushing herself up, so she was crouching opposite him. He stood up, almost automatically, maintaining a sense of imbalance between them.

She held his eyes as he rose, but she made no attempt to stand. There was fire in her gaze again. Her chin was set, her lips a thin line. Finally, she spoke.

"If I have to think of you every time I look in the mirror for the next two years, I'll kill myself."

David almost laughed, but he managed to bite his lip, cutting it off.

"The closet it is, then."

***

She had been so close. For a moment there, she was certain she had him.

Nothing was going right. For one thing, being fucked in the ass felt way better than it should have. After everything David had put her through - caging her for hours, the consecutive orgasms, leaving welts on her thighs with his belt, coming on her face, threatening to drown her, and then fucking her ass - everything he did should have made her skin crawl.

And it did. Sort of.

It was so strange. One moment she was burning with rage and hate, wanting to strike out at him, wanting to hurt him and then abandon him swiftly. The next, her body was melting underneath his careful touch, or his brutal roughness, or the divine, mind-obliterating feeling of his cock sawing in and out of her holes.

Two of her holes. First her mouth...then her ass. She knew so many girls who told her stories of giving their boyfriends sloppy first blowjobs - and of an indeterminate and varying amount of time passing before that would lead to another story about their first time having "real" sex.

There were never many stories after that. Cadence had always suspected that sex was too routine to bother talking about, once that first, terrifying time was over with. Maybe few times, if it took some getting used to.

She didn't know any other girls who had had anal sex, or at least she didn't know any who talked about it.

So when it felt good - really, really good - it was as though all the wires in her mind became crossed. What was the burn of hate became the warmth of affection. What was the rush of fear became the rush of need. Was this how it was supposed to be? She had no frame of reference.

When David attended to her in the bathroom gently, spoke to her soothingly, even thought of keeping her hair dry, it only increased her confusion. She felt invaded - raw - like he had reached up inside of her and raked out her insides. But it was the rawness of a peeling sunburn - it felt new and fresh when it was healed. And he played a part in healing it, when he immediately swept in and tended to her, when he showed her how kind and affectionate he could be. It made her feel safe, which was the strangest thing in the world, given that he had been the one to terrify and violate her in the first place.

She was so conflicted. She couldn't help but feel touched by his softness - and then she resented him and herself for feeling that way. She still felt scared and confused about how good anal sex had felt, completely unable to process it, having hardly known it was even something men and women did together until the previous day. She felt exhausted - twisted tight, wrung out completely. She wanted affection and comfort - from anyone, even her captor.

But underneath it all, she felt a lingering suspicion, a recognition of a pattern of David's that was so simple - but so effective.

He would push her low - lower and lower each time - then bring her back up again. He would make her feel worthless one moment, then priceless the next. He pushed and pulled on her emotions, making her hate him, then making her appreciate him, then making her hate him again.

When he wrapped her up in the towel, for just a moment, things made sense.

It was so brief Cadence had no time to appreciate it as it happened - she could only react. He had reached up, brushing her hair out of her face - and then he met her eyes. The intensity there - the longing, the adoration, the frightening level of devotion and possession - made everything click into place in a way Cadence hadn't experienced yet. He held her so close and he looked at her like she was his favorite toy - a toy that he deserved, was entitled to.

It was never going to stop. Not after this weekend, not when she kicked him out. Whatever promises he had made to her were lies.

He would never let her go, not really. He didn't see it as a possibility. She and him were destiny - in his eyes, at least.

And the things he was doing to her, the things he was forcing her to endure...they were changing her. She wouldn't be able to just move on, no matter what she had told him earlier that day. She wouldn't be able to let him go, either. Even if she never saw or spoke to him again.

This weekend had altered her path, set her life on a different course. And every moment with him - each act of cruelty, each moment of kindness - only gave greater weight to what he future would hold. She was already different, already changed. He knew it, and so did she.

She didn't believe in destiny. But David did. Anything she did that seemed to support his desired outcome would gain her leverage. Make him drop his guard. Make him kinder.

Keep who she was before this weekend began just a little more intact. Keep some part of herself whole.

It was a simple realization, a gut instinct that suddenly opened new windows of possibility for her - even as it frightened and disgusted her at the same time. What David wanted, more than anything, was for Cadence to desire him, to crave him as badly as he seemed to crave her. He wanted her to fight, sure - that's why he had targeted her, attracted by her cold aloofness, the rejection she had showed him entirely by accident when they met for the first time, and nearly every time after that. She had known he was the type to chase what he couldn't have early on. The more she struggled, the more he wanted her. But he wouldn't want that forever, and to him, victory was inevitable.

All of this was abundantly clear as he looked down at her, a greedy little boy with a toy that didn't belong to him, but that he believed he owned simply because he was holding it, because he had hidden it in his closet.

It was a single instant, a moment of clarity that made her bold.

"But I think there was something else you were asking, Cadence. Something you've been asking yourself since this all began. How is it that I can make you feel so good, when you hate me so much?"

"I don't hate you," she had lied, on instinct. Frankly, she was pretty sure even she hadn't sounded all that convinced.

But he bought it. It was what he wanted, more than anything. What he hoped would happen, somehow, at the end of this insane weekend of his. She didn't understand his logic. She wasn't sure she ever would, or even if she wanted to. But at that instant, she was able to pretend it made sense. She steeled herself against her revulsion, her hatred, and let herself experience the moment exactly as it was.

When she saw his open shock, his completely unmasked surprise, she had pushed on recklessly, without really thinking ahead. She kept talking, telling him what he wanted to hear.

She tried to coldly analyze his reaction the way he might hers. It was so hard to keep track of how she should present to him and what she should be looking for from him. She almost admired the effortless way he seemed to manage this - it was the key to controlling her. Was it the key to controlling him, too? Could she even pull it off?

When she ran out of things to say - which happened quickly - she did the next thing she could think of. She pulled him in and kissed him.

This was the easy part, as hard as it was to admit to herself. David had only kissed her twice, in moments of passion. It was clear that he saw kissing as too affectionate, too tender. It was even clearer that he wanted it, badly. There had been other times when he had been looking at her, and it was clear that he wanted to - but he held himself back. He doled it out to control her, or when he himself lost control.

She had to admit she was curious, too. She felt something when they kissed. Something that repulsed and intoxicated her all at once. She wanted to explore it more. She wanted to see what it was like when she wanted it.

He gave in faster than she expected, tumbling with her into her mother's bed, tangling up with her ardently. The rest was instinct and sensation and a growing, aching wetness between her thighs...

No, wait -

It was too easy to get lost in it when his hands were on her, when he was making her feel good, when he was pushing and pulling against her as insistently and relentlessly as the tide. She broke their kiss and frantically made another move, hardly aware of what she was doing, wanting nothing more than to keep this fleeting control, than to avoid whatever awful, terrifying episode he had planned for her next.

"I still have to punish you for lying," he had said, during her bath.

She knew what was coming. More pain. Unless she gave him pleasure.

So Cadence took his cock into her mouth, willingly. She tried as hard as she could to make it good, to keep him distracted, to ignore the fact that he had been in her ass less than an hour ago. But she realized, as she tasted him, that he had rinsed or wiped himself off at some point during her bath - he was clean.

At first, she pretended he was someone else, but then she found it was easier when she just focused on the moment - even if it was a moment with him. There was something very satisfying about pinning him in place, immobilizing him with her ministrations. She found vindictive, almost sadistic pleasure in his feeble protests, in the way he seemed too shocked by her enthusiasm and the wet, soft warmth of her mouth to stop her.

He had to go and ruin it, of course, choking her on his cock, making her suffer, reminding her again exactly what kind of man he was, exactly who she was servicing so enthusiastically. It wasn't that he didn't care about how she felt - it was that he wanted her to feel bad. Even when she was willing. Even when she was being a good, desperate-to-please little girl.

She glared up at him, saw his open relief, and realized (almost too late) what he was doing, that he was intentionally trying to provoke her. So she had renewed her assault. But from that moment forward, her heart wasn't in it. She had managed to create a tiny, fragile bubble of affection for him, had managed to transfer some of that to the way she sucked his cock. After he forced his cock down her throat, trying to regain control, all she could feel again was resentment.

So she made a reckless, ultimately fatal choice. She sucked and licked and stroked until he was close, until she heard his breathing hitch, until his fists clenched over the back of her head - then she pulled back sharply, climbing on top of him as quickly as she could. For the first time all weekend, she was relieved to be naked already. She thought, maybe, if she fucked him, willingly and with as much enthusiasm as she could muster, that he would let his guard down completely. Maybe even fall asleep, trust that she wanted him enough to stay. And then she could make her move - try to escape for real this time, and get those videos in the process. It seemed like a good plan -

Until he caught her, holding her tightly, seeing right through her at the last, crucial moment.

After that, it was all over. David's threats were taking on new, sadistic, almost inhumane levels. As he maneuvered her to the floor and outlined his next plan, Cadence felt her fear overwhelming her again. It was tinged with anger, outrage at David's audacity, embarrassment at how easily he had seen through her flimsy ruse. She was certain that, before this weekend, she had never felt such a constant conflict of emotions.

Clothespins? Head shaving? Everything before, Cadence could understand. David got off on being in control, on reminding her how aroused this all made her. He enjoyed having someone pretty and feisty to punish and tease. But what he was talking about was far beyond what they had done before.

She made her choice. Because, as embarrassing and shallow as she knew it was, she did love her hair. She took good care of it, let it be the one part of her body that she took particular pride in. She had never dyed it, trimmed it herself regularly, and rarely used products or tools that might damage it. The idea of David taking all that hard work away - of having to walk into class on Tuesday with a shaved head - made the choice easier than she cared to admit.

She only started to have seconds thoughts as David reached down and plucked her off the floor. His grip was painful on her arm, and he gave her no time to get her feet under her as he stomped towards the closet. He swung her up onto her feet and pushed her inside in the same motion, following her swiftly.

Cadence stumbled, nearly ending up on the ground again. The closet door snapped shut, and Cadence heard the lock click into place. She whirled to watch David as he approached. He was still shirtless, the sweat on his skin glimmering in the red light. She could see veins straining in his arms, and his hands were shaking. Her heart started to pound. His anger was back, masked underneath the cold sadist. This was the man that beat her thighs with a belt after she passed out from coming too many times. This was the man who chased her through her home and made her believe he would drown her. This was the man who took her ass and taunted her for enjoying it.

He scared her more than he turned her on...but those feelings were there, even as he came close to her and forced her to her knees. His jeans were unzipped, but he had tucked his cock back inside his boxers at some point. She could see his hard length pulsing behind the cotton. For a wild moment, she wondered what he would do if she reached out and grabbed him while she still had a chance -