Caging Cadence Ch. 04

After a while, her screams softened into uncontrolled keening, and her wincing became less pronounced. He kept going, even then.

When he finally stopped, around a dozen strikes later, he was practically gasping for air. He dropped the cane, letting it clatter from his shaking hands, hardly noticing as it hit the floor. The back of Cadence's thighs were striped with glowing, red welts, some overlapping the others. A brutal, beautiful series of x's and crosses, decorating her delicate skin. His cock throbbed in his boxers. He wanted to take her from behind, to plunge into her wet, hot hole while she cried. He wanted to brutalize her within as much as he was without.

He took a deep breath, turning his back on her, closing his eyes, rubbing his face. He couldn't get careless. He didn't want to do permanent damage.

Her sobs reverberated in the red air - little pathetic, cringing whimpers that were muffled by the clothespins digging into her soft mouth. He shook his hands out, taking another deep breath, then took a confident step to her front side.

She didn't look at him. Her knees were trembling, but he could see the juices coating her pale inner thighs, could see the clamps on her spread labia slipping against her slick flesh. This was the point at which he had always stopped before - when she was blubbering and broken, when he felt himself crossing lines he should not cross. When her suffering became too much for his cock to bear, and he had to get himself off with her gorgeous body.

But she had promised him an hour of pain, and he intended to use every last minute.

David examined the clothespins. He was impressed that she had managed to keep them in place while she screamed and struggled. Her lower lip was trembling constantly, making the wooden arms clack together. The parts of her lower lips that were exposed were swollen and red. He gently removed the clothespins from her lip, then casually flicked the last one off her tongue. She gasped, swallowing spit, curling her tongue back into her mouth. She looked up at him warily, but didn't speak. She looked scared and exhausted, wary of what was coming next. He smirked.

"Getting better," he said. "Maybe there's hope for you after all, Cadence."

She let out a dry sob, closing her eyes.

"No more clothespins. You got through the caning without giving me too much trouble. I'm proud of you." He stroked her cheek, wiping away fresh tears. "We've got another half an hour, though. Your thighs are too fucked up for me to keep hitting you there. We'll have to move on."

Cadence furrowed her brow. She looked at him with a pained expression, then opened her mouth to speak. He lifted his eyebrow, waiting - but she licked her lips a moment later and closed them. He chuckled.

"Good girl," he said, patting her cheek condescendingly. "You're learning."

She bit her swollen lip, wincing.

"Now, I'm gonna need your help with this next part, okay? I can't get carried away like that again. You don't want me to, right? Answer me."

"No, sir," she whispered.

He went to the desk and picked up the paddle he had chosen earlier. It was much heavier than the paddle he had used on her the night before. It would leave deep bruises, which was an entirely different kind of pain from the stinging welts his belt and cane provided. He wanted to paint her body like a canvas of overlapping agony, to make certain that every small movement she made for the next week would bring him to mind. He turned back to her, hefting the paddle in his hands.

"See this?" he asked, holding up in front of her face. "I'm going to beat your ass with this - twenty spanks should do it."

She nodded, looking relieved.

"Twenty on each side, little girl."

She shook her head, eyes widening in horror. Her fight was gone - she wasn't really trying to convince him to stop, he suspected. She was just in denial about how much pain her body could endure. It was easy for him to forget that, only the day before, she had never been spanked in her life.

Her pussy loved it, even if she pretended not to.

"It's your job to keep count," he informed her, looking at the paddle in his hand appraisingly. "After every strike, you're going to count and say 'thank you, sir'. Do you understand?"

"Sir, I - I don't know if I can -"

"I don't care if you can. You will."

"Yes, sir," she said softly, casting her eyes down.

But he saw a hint of defiance in her face again - the ghost of the bratty girl he had dragged into this closet half an hour ago. That wasn't working for him.

Time to sprinkle in a little humiliation with her pain.

"Ah-ah-ah," David admonished her, using the edge of the paddle to tilt her face back up. "Kiss it, first."

Cadence frowned. "What? Sir?"

"Kiss the paddle," he said. "Go on. Show it the proper respect. It's an extension of me. Treat it that way."

Scarlet bloomed on her cheeks, and she glanced sideways, looking embarrassed. She mumbled, "That's stupid."

He shook his head, then slapped her across the face with the palm of his hand. It was lighter than his previous strikes - he didn't want to bruise her there. She looked up at him again with watering, desperate eyes.

"I didn't ask what you thought, slut. You don't have any thoughts worth sharing." He held the paddle up to her mouth, keeping his expression stern. "Don't make me tell you again. This will hurt a lot more if I hit you in the face with it."

He wasn't going to do that, of course. But he loved seeing the fear in her eyes that threat elicited. Slowly, she puckered her lips, straining to touch them to the wood. He smirked, combing stray strands of hair behind her ears, touching her cheek gently.

"Good girl," he said. "Let's keep going."

"S-sir," Cadence said suddenly, swallowing. "The clamps, sir."

He shrugged. "What about them?"

"Please, sir, I - I can't concentrate on counting, if...if...they hurt so much, please..."

"What are the clamps there for, Cadence? Do you even remember?"

"They're for...for enjoying the anal sex too much."

"And for not calling Lily," he reminded her. He laughed, mocking her. "You know what I'm planning with her after I leave here, right? After I'm finished with you?"

Cadence's eyes flashed up to his. He watched her fists curl in their bindings and smiled, loving her relentless defiance.

"There she is," he said, tugging on the chains connecting her labia and nipples. She gasped, wincing, trying to follow his tugging motion with unsteady, awkward steps. This was such a deliciously exquisite position to have her in - so precarious for her, and overflowing with opportunity for him.

"No," he said. "These stay on, until the very end. Maybe even until you offer her to me."

"That will never happen," she spat, her face contorting. He gave the chain another sharp pull and she cried out, her chin trembling, her eyes fluttering closed.

"Don't tempt me into trying," he warned her. "Because I know I could make you."

He dropped the chain and moved behind her again, giving her no chance to respond. The paddle was a heavy, comfortable weight in his hand, full of potential. He took another look at her striped thighs, checking to make sure none of the welts had split open. They were angry, red, and glowing, but she wasn't bleeding.

He lifted the paddle in silence, swinging hard, relishing the feel of it crashing into her right asscheek with tremendous force and no warning. Cadence screamed, her voice more uninhibited now that the clothespins were gone. The chains rattled on her torso with every movement, prolonging her agony. She jumped in place, howling, completely forgetting to count.

"All right, we'll start again," David said, after ten seconds of waiting.

"No-no-no- wait, one, thank you si- fuck!" She screamed the expletive as he struck her again, and he held back his laughter.

"What was that?" he asked, "Couldn't hear you."

"One," she spat through gritted teeth, "thank you. Sir."

"Good girl."

Again, he hit her. He aimed for her other cheek this time, wanting to distribute each strike evenly.

"Tw-two," she gasped, shuddering in her bindings. "Thank you, sir."

And so it went.

By the fifteenth strike, Cadence was sobbing again. She had stopped dancing in her cuffs, her body swinging limply forward with each hit. She was still counting, struggling to speak through stuttering breaths.

He stopped for a moment, stepping around to her front. He wiped away her tears absently, appraising her broken expression and defeated posture.

"You get so low so easily," he whispered, stroking her cheek. "It's pathetic. Honestly, I actually feel bad for you right now. It's almost like you're finally seeing how hopeless it is to fight me."

He paused for a moment, narrowing his eyes. She was panting, her mouth wide, her shoulders trembling. Being bound this long was a new experience for her too, he realized. He would have never jumped in so quickly with a willing submissive. It was fun and frightening to see how much Cadence could take despite her lack of experience.

"I think you're getting a little too low to stay focused, actually. I want you to really feel every single one of these, Cadence. And I want you to understand that this all comes down to you, and the choices you made, and the things you denied me. So I'm going to need you to ask me to keep hitting you."

Cadence shook her head, twisting desperately against the cuffs binding her wrists to the ceiling. "I can't. I really can't, please - what else can I do?"

David smirked. "You really think I'm going to fall for that again?"

"This is too much, sir, please."

He scoffed. "Of course. I should have expected as much. You're not as smart as you think you are, Cadence."

He shook his head sadly, then returned to her backside.

"You've really disappointed me. You have to start trying harder if you want my mercy."

She took a few shuddering breaths. He could see the muscles in her ass tightening and relaxing, trying to anticipate the blow.

He aimed the next strike lower, so it landed over some of her welts. She howled, her legs kicking in the spreader bar, her torso twisting. The chains wriggled on her chest, making her cry out again. She sobbed loudly, too distracted to remember his orders.

"I'm waiting," he said. "Or are we starting over?"

"Six-sixteen," she gasped, "thank you, sir."

"Good girl," David said. "Since you couldn't ask for it, these next ones are going to come a lot faster, okay? So you have to be quicker with your counting. If you fuck it up, I'm starting over."

She shook her head slowly, mumbling under her breath, almost as if she were praying.

He lifted the paddle, then struck her quickly.

She choked the words out. "Seventeen. Thank you, sir."

He hit her again, almost before she finished her sentence.

"Aah - eighteen, th-thank you, sir," she gasped, struggling to speak quickly.

Once again, he struck her about halfway through her second sentence, smirking as her words turned into a shriek.

"Nineteen! Thank you, sir!"

He stopped again at twenty-five, watching her go slack in her bindings in relief.

"Over halfway there," he murmured. "You're doing great, little one."

He was legitimately impressed. She had kept up with him. Focusing on counting quickly seemed to make it easier for her to take each strike. But once she had a few seconds to let the pain set in...

"Please," she whimpered, "please, sir, no more."

"Mm, not what I wanted to hear, Cadence."

Cadence sobbed, shaking her head. David shrugged.

"I told you, twenty on each side. And we won't even be done after the paddle. The last ten minutes will be the worst."

"I can't do this," she cried.

"You're already doing it, Cadence," he reminded her. "Look at how far you've come since last night. Did you ever imagine you could endure so much in so little time? What's fifteen more, huh?"

He wasn't sure why he was encouraging her. It just felt natural.

He reached over her shoulder and turned her face to look at him. She had to craned her neck awkwardly to meet his eyes, looking distant in her pain. He felt something twinge deep in his stomach - something compassionate, something entirely too inconvenient for the moment. He swallowed, trying to quash it. It was easier when he wasn't looking her in the eye, but he needed her full attention.

"If you beg me to keep going, we'll make it five more instead."

He watched her eyes flutter closed.

"You really have to make it convincing, though. Remember when we were in Laura's bed before? You're a pretty good kisser, you know, for someone who hasn't done it before. A little sloppy, but..."

David stepped closer to her, turning her head forward again, stroking his fingers down to her throat. He wrapped his hand there, just below her collar, holding her in place. He pressed his cock against her beaten ass. She whimpered, trying to scoot forward, but he just followed her. He bumped his hips against her, letting her feel how hard he was, how much torturing her excited him...and how much self-control he had, choosing to continue punishing her in spite of that. It was so satisfying to be this close to her again. Her ass was glowing red, warm to the touch. He gripped her upper thigh cruelly, making her gasp.

"It didn't matter so much, because you were so sweet, so excited. I don't think it was all an act, Cadence. I think you liked grinding on top of me like that. I think you wish that's what we were doing now, instead. I think you like how powerful being wanted makes you feel - that's why it was so easy for you to put on that little show for me."

She trembled in his arms as he spoke, her breath quickening. He might have imagined it, but it seemed as though the longer he spoke, the more her ass pushed back towards him.

"I want you to do that again, Cadence. But instead of kissing me and trying to convince me to fuck you, I want you to beg me to hit you. Do you think you can do that?"

A small sound escaped her, somewhere between a gasp and a sob. "I-I don't know, sir, please...p-please..."

"That's not quite right. It's cute when you get all sad and desperate, don't get me wrong, but...that's not how you were on your mother's bed a little while ago, right?"

She twitched a little in his arms and he smirked, enjoying the way this comment cut at her.

"Why do you make me do this?" she whined.

"Mm...two reasons," he said, speaking slowly. He traced his fingers over her thighs and ass, letting his nails drag against her sensitive skin, drawing out a hiss. He gently dipped his fingers between her legs, just barely stroking the slick, hot opening of her cunt. She gasped, her arms jerking against their bindings as her hips bucked, involuntarily pushing back against him, silently begging him for more. He chuckled, moving forward. He circled her clit from behind slowly, just once, then withdrew.

Cadence let out a disappointed sigh, bouncing in place a little.

"God, you're adorable," he murmured into her hair. "The more I hurt you, the more you want it. That's the first reason I make you beg me to do things you think you don't want me to do. I'm hoping it will help you come to terms with the fact that you do really want them, that you're a dirty, hungry little slut that enjoys being touched, and hurt, and fucked..."

She was trembling again. He wanted to finger her while he spoke, to feel her grind her wet pussy against his fingers, to hear her sweet little moans and her cries of disappointment when he denied her. But that wasn't the point of this lesson. It was easy to get distracted by her body, by how turned on she was by the things he was doing to her. Even her denial of it, her refusal to admit it, just made it even more delicious and tempting to prove her wrong. He was so hard he thought he might burst. He took a deep breath, stepping back from her body, trying to concentrate.

"The second reason," he said, "is because it makes me hard. I like it when you beg."

She shook her head again, clenching her thighs.

"What's it gonna be, Cadence? Fifteen, or five? Can you admit that you're enjoying this?"

Silence, stillness. He waited, holding his breath, trying not to make a sound as she considered.

"Fifteen," she said, her voice low.

"What was that?"

"Fifteen," she said, a little louder. "Give me fifteen more."

"Since I don't take orders from you, we'll make it twenty."

"Wait, that's not - that's not what I meant -"

David laughed. "I don't care. Keep count from where we were."

He lifted the paddle and brought it crashing against her skin again. She shrieked, caught completely off-guard, then sputtered, trying to remember the next number.

"Aagh, fuck-fuck-fuck - wait - twenty-six, twenty-six."

He pushed her brutally hard for the next nine strikes, giving her barely half a second between each count, forcing her to stutter and speak quickly to keep up with his pace. By the end, her ass was a delicious shade of dark red, bits of purple already beginning to bloom in the center. He stroked this tender place, then gave her playful a swat with her hand.

"Thirty-six?" she squeaked, sounding hopeful.

David cracked up, secretly impressed. "You wish. Don't push your luck."

He lifted the paddle again, but before he could resume hitting her, his cell phone buzzed in his back pocket. The sudden sensation startled him, making him jump. He was glad Cadence hadn't seen. He frowned, taking a step away from Cadence, then fished his phone from his pocket, looking down at the screen.

It was Laura.

***

It felt as though her legs and ass were on fire.

She had never felt pain like this, so relentless, so constant. David had orchestrated such a thorough system to abuse her body with - her lips and tongue were aching where the clothespins had pinched them, so that every sound, every word, made her lips throb. Her nipples had ceased to feel like anything other than small, burning points on her chest, nagging at her constantly for relief.

But the nipple clamps paled in comparison to the ones on her pussy lips. Every time David hit her, she felt the pain reverberate from her thighs or her ass and into her pussy, felt her lower body clench and convulse.

In the midst of that, her clit ached in a different way entirely, and her cunt dripped juices onto her inner thighs. She was humiliated and terrified, knowing David could tell how much his abuse was turning her on. She could see it was turning him on too, could see that he was enjoying her helplessness and fear.

By the time he was finished caning her thighs, Cadence was obliterated. She had so little sense of what was happening. Each sting of the cane blurred together, creating a landscape of pain on the back of her legs that went beyond tears, beyond any vocal expression.

She had to admit, she was relieved when David switched to the paddle and asked her to count. He knew how to keep her awareness on the moment, how to prevent her from escaping into her mind and going limp until it was all over. It was an intense, incredible present experience - she kept feeling a spike of shock each time another five hits passed, certain that she shouldn't still be conscious.

But the counting kept her clear, kept her focused. She found herself anticipating the next strike almost eagerly, falling into the rhythm of the count, each strike and her gratitude for it becoming a mantra that kept her going.

It amazed her how different the agony from the caning was from the bite of the paddle. She knew she preferred the latter - the heavy, smacking weight against her skin awoke her senses, jolting her in a way she had never experienced before. She noticed that, the more he hit her with the paddle, the less the welts from his cane hurt.