A Gilded Cage Ch. 02

Part 2 is yours. I am still very new to this and a whore for feedback, but I'm definitely getting into it. I hope you enjoy it!

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The turning on of lights woke her and she stirred before thinking that it would have been better to have pretended to be asleep.

"Ah, pet, awake? Good. You performed perfectly." He leaned down and brushed his lips against her forehead.

Perhaps it was the rest, or just that his actions repulsed her, but she felt live with new energy. Sitting up she recoiled from him. "You raped me you monster, get away from me" she hissed, bringing her knees up to her chest.

"And you liked it, slut. You came for me. I took you roughly in a room full of soldiers and you came, you delicious little creature." His eyes wandered down and she realised with a jolt that, in her haste to sit up, the blanket had fallen from her chest. He plucked at one newly visible nipple but turned and left her be. "I'd fuck you again, but I am tired and a little drunk. That and I need a clear head for tomorrow - we shall have to work on your behaviour."

He was neither drunk nor too tired to fuck her but thought it better for her to think he was growing careless. He needed this girl broken and quickly. Having her kneeling at his feet in public was a useful symbol of his total victory, not to mention his personal power, and with guerrilla rebels threatening to become a nuisance in her homeland he needed to get this right. There was a show trial arranged for their king in three days' time and he had half a mind to contribute to the breaking of the man by showing him what a good slave his daughter had become.

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She woke to find him awake and dressed. He was sitting at a small table to eat breakfast, surrounded by mounds of papers, reading a folder open in front of him. He noticed her wake - he seemed to have been waiting for it.

"Here, pet, now." He gestured at a spot on the carpet beside his feet. She sat up and found that the chain tethering her to the foot of the bed had been removed, but the collar hadn't. She made no movement towards him, however, and drew her knees up under the blanket.

"If I have to come and get you, the pain and humiliation of last night will be nothing, now come here and be good." He didn't look at her, his concentration had already returned to his files, but he seemed quite aware of his surroundings. As she stood to do as she was told he seemed to reconsider her for a moment. "No... stop" he drawled, still not looking at her, "down slave, crawl like a dog, crawl to me and kneel at my feet."

She froze. She would not crawl to this brute, whatever it cost her. She preferred not to think of what it might cost her, but she refused to be broken that easily.

"Five lashes then. And I shall double it for each extra second you take to get here. One, two..." He finally looked up. She still hadn't moved. "I had intended to start with this after breakfast but if I must beat you now to get even the most meagre semblance of obedience then so be it."

He looked weary and irritated as he stood and turned towards her. Now was as good an opportunity as ever, she thought, and made a dash away from him and towards the door leading back out to the corridor.

Moving quicker than she would have thought possible he reached her before she had gone two paces. Seizing her upper arm he swung her around and threw her back into the room. With her hands still bound in front of her she could do nothing to stop her fall. The backs of her knees hit the chaise lounge and she collapsed into the foot of the bed, hitting it with the same shoulder that had caught the hearth stone last night.

She cried out, head spinning, and scurried to retreat into the corner of the couch and protect her face from the blows she was expecting. But nothing came. She raised her head, peeking out from behind her hands, but the light from the tall windows was blocked by the man standing looking down at her.

"Stupid girl. What on Earth did you hope to achieve? Idiot. Even if you did somehow manage to get out of the house you'd never make it across the grounds and past the guards. Even then, even if you did, you have a bloody tracking chip on your spine, you simple, simple creature. I have no intention of losing any of my property."

Aneira sunk. How could she have failed to guess? She had been an idiot and though he had all of the outward appearance of a calm man, the anger in those grey eyes terrified her. He hooked his fingers into the collar at her throat and dragged her onto her knees in front of him. With his other hand he slapped her, the force of it knocking her sideways onto the floor, and sending her head spinning again. Her cheek was on fire. Franticly she fought with herself to get away and began to squirm under the couch. He did nothing. No hands grabbed her and he let her edge her way into the tight space. She could see his feet - he was standing quite still. She didn't understand. With a burst of movement he pulled the light couch aside and left it skidding across the room, leaving her entirely unprotected.

Panic seized her. She attempted to move further back, under the bed, but the footer was too close to the ground, barely two inches of clearance. He stood over her, watching her struggle, then appeared to have had enough. Taking hold of her collar once again he dragged her flailing body across the polished wooden floor, kicking aside rugs and furniture as he went. He pulled her through a small door she hadn't previously noticed, in the corner furthest from the main door and on the side of the room away from the windows. Down a short, narrow corridor, he opened another door into a wide, low ceilinged room. He threw her inside, following quickly and locked the door behind.

This room was like nothing she had ever seen or imagined. Gone were the rich furnishings, elaborate upholstery, and comfort of the rest of the house. This room was clinical, cold, and terrifying. There were things covered in wide leather straps and she didn't want to begin to think what they were for. Along one wall there were ranks of steel draws and she didn't want to think about what was in those either. She squirmed away, refusing to bow to the inevitable. She would have to pay for her stupidity but she wouldn't break. She told herself over and over, trying to convince the doubting parts of her brain. She would not break.

He kicked her in the ribs as he stepped over her. Not too hard, there would be lasting damage, but enough to wind her and prevent her from thinking straight, and enough that the fight was gone for a moment. He lifted up the limp, cowering thing, and uncuffed her hands, binding each to a chain coming from the ceiling before she had a chance to struggle. Fluidly, and before she had caught her breath, her ankles were similarly cuffed and chained to heavy bolts set into the floor such that she stood over a small drain. He stood back to admire her. "Still beautiful" he murmured. With her long legs wide apart he could glimpse the pink between them. His cock twitched, but he ignored it; he had work to do. Her head lolled onto her chest, that wouldn't do at all, it made her look untidy. Pulling out one of the deeper steel draws he retrieved a stiff leather posture collar and put it on in place of the light band she had been wearing. Now she was forced to look at him. Perfect. He teased a few strands of hair out from under the collar where they had caught and laid the entire mass of chestnut over her right shoulder. Even like this it fell past her waist. It needed brushing but that could wait too.

"Was it twenty lashes you had earned for your earlier refusals? I believe it was. Twenty for not doing what you were told, and I shall have to think of a fitting punishment for your escape attempt and your struggle. You understand that you are being punished for acting stupidly? I cannot abide stupid people. Well?"

"Yes." It was barely audible. He slapped her again. Thankfully it was the other side of her face but this time the pain was considerably more, Aneira having no ability to recoil to absorb the blow.

"Yes, what, slave, yes what?" He demanded. "You will address me properly in future. Any of my titles will do. Lord, General, Master..." The last was entirely chilling. She was certain that the tone of his voice had changed. She would certainly never call him that so long as she had any will remaining.

"Yes, Lord."

"Better. If I have to correct you again then I will remove from you the privilege of talking, and save your delicate little mouth for... sweeter things"

She didn't respond. She could follow his train of thought and was disgusted by its direction.

He didn't seem to have noticed. He was pulling out draws and inspecting their contents.

"This one will do for today" he mused, picking up a long leather riding crop and flexing it. It was hardly the harshest of his instruments but he had no intention of breaking the skin and damaging such valuable property. The point was to scare the girl not scar her pretty flesh.

He caressed her cheek with the folded leather tip. She was fighting back tears. Good. He liked a challenge, but it shouldn't take too much to break her. He had plenty of other things to do today. He paced slowly round to face her back, trailing the crop across the gentle curves of her little waist before pulling it away.

He didn't give her time to prepare herself, delivering five sharp blows in quick succession to her smooth little arse. He listened carefully as he paused. The slightest of sobs perhaps, but certainly no screams, she had impressive restraint when she wanted. Five more to her arse and he heard his first whimper. "Getting there" he thought to himself, "ten more should do it for a scream." He delivered the last nine all together, falling across already reddened skin. He could see her little body tensing as she fought with herself not to give in to her pain. The last blow landed on the soft flesh of her already sore cunt. With that she screamed. He could hardly blame her, the agony that he had suddenly brought to her body must have been blinding. He stepped back to admire his work, feeling quite satisfied. Her arse was pink and red all over, but without a single break to her skin. Perfect. He smacked it as he walked back to face her. Another scream, shock as much as pain, but it would certainly do.

She was sobbing openly. What a beautiful broken little thing she was. He leant in to lick the tears from her face in one long stroke. Even through her pain, she was evidently disgusted: anything to keep the girl off guard and prevent her from collecting her thoughts into resistance. He licked her other check too, and placed the softest of kisses on her forehead.

He had done pain, but now for humiliation. Fingers edged down and teased at her cunt, repulsing and confusing her as he had intended it would. He could not have her behaving like she had this morning. An idea struck him. Anything he did here would be simply between them, but to a girl of high social standing there was nothing as humiliating as public disgrace.

"Slave, I am dining out this evening, there is a party in the city centre. You shall accompany me." He enjoyed the confusion on her tear streaked face for a moment before carrying on. "You shall crawl naked at my feet. You will not speak unless I speak to you and most of all, you shall behave. I do not wish to have to beat you in public, but I will not hesitate to if you embarrass me. Is this all understood?"

She was only just starting to take in what he had said, but thought better of getting herself into more trouble than she was in already. "Yes, Lord." And then for good measure "I promise to behave."

He smiled and left, clearly done with her. She was progressing very well indeed.

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She was left there, sore and aching all over. She longed to cover herself up and get out of this blinding light. It bounced off of every polished surface straight into her eyes, and shutting them made little difference. The room would have been silent except for the drip of a tap somewhere behind her. She was sure the noise and the light would drive her mad. She screwed up her eyelids and tried to block it all out.

After what must have been several hours the door opened again. Rogers entered, followed by a diminutive woman somewhat north of middle age, carrying a neat black case. Rogers barely glanced at her as he strode past, but the woman tutted, clearly disapproving of the state she was in.

As the woman fussed over her case in one corner, Aneira felt a shard of pain through her arse. She thought immediately that Rogers had hit her with something, but quickly realised that it was only cold water which had stung her recently whipped backside. The power in the jet lessened as Rogers turned it down, muttering to himself that the hose always had had a beastly kick. He hosed her down all over, standing back to allow the woman to scrub her down and shampoo her hair before washing off the suds. She winced as the woman soaped the aches on her shoulder, which must surely have bruised, and again as she touched her ribs where he had kicked her.

"The master has made rather a mess of this one eh. Is she badly behaved?"

"She certainly has more fight in her than most of the vapid little things he buys, yes." Aneira was surprised to hear the stiff soldier, Rogers, speak so plainly, but then remembered that there was no reason for him to stand on ceremony when the general wasn't around.

"The talk amongst the rest of the staff is that her blood is even bluer than his, that she is some royal of that little country we conquered. Is there truth to that?"

"I suppose it doesn't matter if I tell you since it will be known soon enough. She's not just some noble's daughter, but the only surviving heir of the king. There's something he wanted in that out-of-the-way valley and for some reason he needs her. Something about old laws I think, I don't really understand. As her owner any possessions of hers fall to him. I suppose that includes countries."

Only surviving heir... That couldn't be true, she had siblings. She had two elder brothers. She sagged to the floor as best she could with her arms held above her head, her legs collapsing, and she wept.

She felt strong arms around her waist, lifting her back onto her feet, Rogers' arms.

"I have brothers, I'm not the heir, I have siblings, please..."

"I'm sorry girl, but it's just you. I was one of the first into that citadel - you and your maids in that top room were all we found alive. Will you be good and stand? I don't want to have to get him in here to make you. He's busy and he'll make you regret my having to disturb him."

She sobbed, despairing, but allowed him to stand her up.

"Rogers look what you've done to the girl. Think next time you speak. Poor thing, how am I supposed to do her makeup now?" She made a start brushing Aneira's hair instead. By the time she was finished, Aneira had cried her eyes dry and allowed her face to be gently washed and made up without a word of complaint.

"Now don't you go crying and messing it all up there's a good girl. You look so pretty with your hair tidied and your eyes done. Shame about those bruises but they'll soon fade. Don't go getting any new ones now will you dear." With that she left, tutting at Rogers who stood stiffly by the door, looking rather guilty.

Both Rogers and the woman had been kind to her, but she was under no illusions that they might help her to escape: their loyalty to him must surely far outweigh any sympathy they felt for her. The sudden news of the death of her brothers had left her stunned. She hoped that they may have escaped. Perhaps Rogers would answer a question.

"Sir, Rogers sir." He looked startled at having been addressed as sir, but she pressed on. "Sir, are you sure my brothers are dead? Is there any chance...?" She trailed off as she saw how grave he looked.

"Now don't go crying again or May'll string me up for spoiling your makeup, but I'm afraid not. Two young lads, nice looking, well dressed, with eyes like yours, both with fairer hair though, does that sound like your brothers?"

She nodded. Her green eyes were not common among her people, and she knew of none aside from her brothers who might fit that description.

"They died defending one of the inner gates I guess. They needn't have bothered, they never would have held, but I can't say I'd have done differently. Those courtyards are all open to the sky you see, they were probably picked out by snipers in helicopters before they could have raised a hand to anyone. I hear they got half your guard like that. The general and I..."

He stopped abruptly as footsteps approached the door. The general stepped through and turned to her with a smile. Gone was the tailored civilian shirt and trousers of the morning: he was back in his dress uniform, a cap in one gloved hand, a collar and leash in the other.

"All ready? I see May has worked her art as well as ever."

"Yes sir, all ready."

"Good, thank you Rogers." The man disappeared with startling speed given his bulk. The general took off the high, stiff collar and replaced it with the one in his hand. He quickly freed her wrists and ankles but left the cuffs on.

"Kneel, slave" he murmured as he wrapped the handle of the leash around his gloved right hand. She had no energy to resist him and dropped to all fours. "Good girl. Keep on being good and you'll find your life far easier. Now crawl along beside me as I walk, and keep up."

He kept the leash short and she was forced to crawl immediately beside him. He walked fast, but not his usual brisk, long strides. As they passed through his bedroom she noticed that all of the furniture was back as it had been - someone had clearly cleared up after the mess he had made dragging her out. He noticed her looking. "Eyes to the floor slave. Unless I am talking to you, keep your eyes on the floor, especially around company."

She saw little else of the house but various floor coverings. The rugs were soft enough but crawling over them at pace did her knees no good at all and she was glad when they gave way to a broad tiled entrance hall. Rogers appeared out of nowhere and fell into step by her side, smartened up considerably in the five minutes since he had been dismissed.

"Eyes down and keep them down. I won't remind you again." As she looked down again she noticed a gravel drive just past the wide doors, down a set of broad stone steps. She forgot herself and slowed her crawl. He wanted her to crawl naked over sharp stones?! The drive stretched for miles.

He chuckled, perceiving her fright. "No, pet, I won't make you crawl across that. It wouldn't do to ruin your knees when you will be spending so much time on them in the next few days." They halted on the top step, and within a few seconds, a large black car had swept up in front. Rogers stepped forwards to open the door for him and he lifted her in by the waist.

She was sat in a large foot well, and he nudged her further in with his foot as he took his seat. The door was closed and Rogers climbed in the other side. He kicked her gently again.

"Up on your knees girl, you look so untidy slouched in a pile like that." He pulled her close against his legs and laid her head on one of his thighs, stroking her gently. "Sleep now girl, it is a long drive and I have work to do."

The feel of his hand in her hair and stroking her cheek, pressing her head against his thigh repulsed her. But after the horror of the last day she caught herself almost accepting his comfort. At any rate sleep did sound appealing.

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He nudged her awake with the side of his foot. Rogers had already gotten out and was holding open the general's door. With no real effort he picked her up by the waist and passed her to Rogers, who set her gently on the ground. As he stepped out beside her and pulled the leash tight she realised quite where she was.