Caging Cadence Ch. 02

At some point, she heard movement in the bedroom beyond. She held her breath, listening hard, but she couldn't pick out more than a few footsteps, some drawers opening. She frowned, listening to David leave the room. How long was he planning to just leave her stewing here this morning?

Minutes passed, and Cadence grew more restless. Her stomach grumbled, protesting its empty state. Her bones ached with exhaustion, something she usually chased away with a cup of coffee - but she doubted she'd have that luxury today. And, perhaps the most pressing - her bladder felt as though it might burst. She started repeating facts from her textbooks in her head, trying to block out the sensations of need, hating David more and more with each uncomfortable moment.

Finally, she heard his footsteps - much louder and more confident than when he'd left - approaching the closet door. She leapt to her feet, grasping the bars of her prison, pressing her face between them. If she ambushed him, maybe he'd be surprised enough to let her go to the bathroom. She didn't want to even imagine what kind of other, disgusting alternatives someone as depraved as David might have.

When he first walked in, he was smiling like a kid on Christmas morning - but his face darkened when he saw her standing, fully clothed. He clenched his jaw, storm clouds in his eyes, and slowed his pace, taking measured steps. Cadence felt her heart pound, but she stood firm, meeting his gaze as he walked towards her.

"What the fuck is this, Cadence?" he asked, his voice low and deadly. "How are you supposed to greet me when I walk into the room?"

"David, I'm exhausted, and I really have to pee," she said, ignoring his question. "Seriously, this has gone on long enough. You made your point, and you had your fun. You have to let me go now. I got you off - we're done! I'm a human being, not just some toy you can lock up when you get bored with me."

He listened her short speech with an impassive face, still moving slowly. As he passed by the vibrator on the coaster he raised his eyebrow, but made no comment. He didn't hurry, just took measured steps, until he was standing directly in front of her. When he was so close she could feel his breath, he stopped, and his eyes bored into hers. She swallowed, trembling, but didn't look away. It seemed like he wasn't blinking, but that wasn't possible, right? His eyes pierced into her, puncturing her confidence. She wilted a little, hands gripping the bars more tightly for support.

He didn't speak. It would have been scarier if he'd raged, if he'd scoffed or scolded or shouted. Instead, he simply folded his arms and stared at her. The moments stretched on, so suffocatingly uncomfortable that Cadence forgot all about her bladder. Her throat tightened, and she blinked, willing herself to be brave. But the way he was looking at her made her feel like she was facing down an angry teacher in high school again. She felt a blush bloom across her cheeks and cursed herself, finally looking down at the floor. His eyes didn't move from her face.

"I am far from bored with you," he said, finally. His voice was detached. "You have no idea what kind of terrible things I have planned. The list is endless."

"I just -"

"Stop," he said. "You don't have my permission to speak."

He reached for the padlock, unlocking it smoothly, and opened the door. He stepped back, then beckoned her forward with two fingers. His muscles were tense, his jaw a hard line in his face. His expression was still unreadable. She took a timid step backward, reaching for the bars behind her. He was so still and silent, completely calm and controlled. She had expected anger, even violence. The tiniest part of her had even hoped for that. She was wearing clothes, hiding herself from him. She hadn't knelt when he entered, and she'd called him by his name. She intended to provoke him. But this? This cold, indifferent, boiling-below-the-surface tension? This was agonizing.

"Come here," he said, "and don't make me ask again."

Reluctantly, she left the cage. Her feet had barely touched the carpet when his hands were on her, brutally rough. He whipped the tank top over her head, yanked her pants down, and forced her to the ground. She went limp, falling to her knees, ducking her head and bringing her hands up to defend herself. He had her by the hair (never before had she regretted her long locks so much) and one of her arms. She expected him to let up a little once she was on her knees, but he kept pushing. She hit the ground face-first with a grunt, feeling the heel of his bare foot dig into her back a moment later. She let out a scream of frustration and shock.

"What the hell are y-"

"I will duct tape your mouth shut if you keep talking without permission," he growled. "I was thinking of going easier on you this morning, given the kind of night you probably had, but it's clear the only thing you understand is violence. What rules have you already broken today, Cadence? You can speak to answer me."

"I didn't agree to the stupid rules in the first place!" she cried.

"Wrong answer," he said. He released her and she moved to rise. He pushed her back against the floor roughly, shaking her. "No. Stay down."

He stalked across the room, unlocking and opening the cabinet they had yet to explore. Cadence craned her neck from her place on the floor, trying to see what he was doing. When he returned, he was holding a few things with straps attached, maybe some rope - but that's the last thing she had time to notice before his fist was in her hair again, pinning her face back to the floor.

He pulled her arms roughly until the were folded behind her back, then wrapped a length of rope around her forearms, from her wrist to her elbow. She struggled underneath him, feeling weak and impotent, her anger and fear swirling for dominance in her mind. She kicked her heels against his back, but she may as well have been kicking a brick wall, for all the good it did. She was too afraid to speak. The way he'd ripped her clothes off and forced her prone to the ground re-triggered the mindset he'd brought her to the day before. She forgot all her quips, her carefully crafted arguments, and just fearfully waited for a better moment to challenge him again.

He collected her long hair into a bundle around his fist, wrapping it tightly, pulling her head up with the handle it created. He looped something around her neck with the other hand - he tightened it, then released her hair, buckling the strap of leather into place. Cadence looked down at the silver ring dangling from the front of her throat, then looked up at him incredulously.

"A collar?" she said. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

David shook his head, eyes tight. "Not a collar, your collar. When I put this on, it means you've really fucked up. If you don't want to experience what real suffering feels like, you'll stop being such a mouthy little brat. You have ten seconds to speak - respectfully - and tell me what rules you broke when I walked in today."

Cadence felt absurd, face down on the floor, arms immobile behind her back. The collar was tight against her throat - not cutting off her circulation, but certainly putting pressure on it. Breathing was just that much harder. It was an efficient means of limiting her ability to struggle. She had to make herself still, let her neck muscles relax, and take deep, intentional breaths. This resulted in her speaking directly to the floor.

"You...you told me to kneel, when you come in," she said. "And to call you 'sir'. But I don't remember - I don't think there were any other rules." She craned her neck up to lock eyes with him, struggling to ignore the increased pressure on her throat. "But I never actually agreed to do any of that, you forced me to. And we're done. I want you to let me go."

He crouched down, grabbing her chin, making her keep her head up. She gurgled, struggling to breathe. Her eyes watered.

"Are we done? Because you're lying underneath me with your arms bound and your collar around your neck. It seems to me like we're just getting started." He let her go and she slipped, wincing as her cheek bumped against the ground. "And I don't give a fuck what you want, Cadence. Never forget that."

"Do you give a fuck about what I need?" she spat, resentful. "Because I seriously have to go to the bathroom, I wasn't kidding."

"What's stopping you?" he asked, shrugging.

Her face paled. "You're joking, right?" He just smiled, lifting his eyebrows. She pushed on. "Besides, I'm starving, too. I have blood sugar issues. You don't want me to pass out, do you?" That wasn't true, but she was desperate.

"I don't know if I buy that," he said, rising back to a standing position. "But you've made your point. I'm not totally heartless. We can address your needs first, then your bad behavior."

He reached down, heaving her to her feet, giving her barely enough time to get herself stable before he dragged her towards the door. There was still something else in his hands from the cabinet. When they reached the closet door, he stopped, showing her what it was. It was a short, black, leather leash, complete with a silver fastener on one end and a short, secure loop on the other. She shook her head, brow furrowing, mouth slightly open in shock.

"Nope," she whispered. "No way."

"Yup," he replied, reaching up to affix the collar to the ring dangling from her throat. It clicked with finality, but he held the loop loosely in his hand. "And you're going to crawl to the bathroom."

"I won't," she insisted. "I'm not going to do that."

"It's either you crawl to the bathroom, or your piss yourself right here in front of me. I'll make you clean up the mess, and explain the stain to Laura."

Cadence felt the blood rush out of her face. Trying to stifle her revulsion, she closed her eyes. She hated it when he mentioned her mother. It made everything he did a thousand times worse.

"Don't even say her name. She can never know about any of this."

He shrugged again. "Then I suggest you get on your knees." He wrapped the short leash around his hand twice, so he gripped it only six inches or so away from the silver ring. He waited, staring at her pointedly.

Cadence sank to her knees, resigned. She was so distracted by the collar and her horror at David's words that she nearly forgot about her bound arms. She looked up at him, dark red hair in her face. She tossed her head, trying to focus, her lower abdomen aching. She was reaching the real critical point. "How exactly am I supposed to crawl without my arms?"

He jerked on the leash emphatically. "I'll help you. Keep your back straight and shuffle your knees. You're probably going to get some bad rug burn, you should've thought about that before you forgot all the rules this morning. It'll be the least of your worries soon."

She sighed, waiting for him to open the door. The minute stretched on and she bounced a little, bending at the waist just a bit, trying to hold it in. She stared up at him pleadingly. He looked back down at her, but he seemed to be considering something, and hardly noticed her pathetic look.

Finally, impatiently, she burst out, "What are you waiting for?"

He knelt down so he was level with her, then reached out, patting her thighs, trying to get her to open her legs. When she took longer than he wanted, the pats turned into harsh slaps. She yelped, spreading her legs out, desperately clenching her pelvic muscles, willing herself to ignore her full bladder. She closed her eyes in agony, but they flew back open when his fingers slipped between her folds and found her clit. He rubbed her softly and she groaned, torn between how good his fingers felt (how did he do that?) and how badly she needed to pee.

He leaned in, looking directly into her face. His expression was cold, but there was a glimmer of humor in his eyes. His lips parted, his hot breath just a few inches from her open mouth - she could smell mint and that undefinable undertone of him that she could only sense when they were this close, or when he kissed her (which, she realized, had only happened twice). Between his close proximity and the irresistible sensations he was eliciting in her cunt, she found herself unable to focus on anything other than him. It was terrifying how he had that effect on her.

The next thing he said was even more terrifying.

"You forgot one of the rules. Interesting which one...convenient, even."

Her stomach dropped.

"Did you touch yourself last night, Cadence?" he whispered. Her eyes went wide. She glanced at the vibrator on the coaster, momentarily impressed it remained there after their struggles. David looked over her shoulder at it too, cocking an eyebrow, and then he smiled. He looked back at her. Cadence cursed herself.

She tried to recover quickly. "No. I didn't. You told me not to."

He rolled his eyes, and his hand left her clit. She sagged, then yelped - he had reached up and pressed lightly against her swollen bladder. Her legs snapped together and she fell face-forward into him, squirming hard, trying to thrust her hips back away from his hand at the same time. He gave some slack to her leash and grabbed her with the hand that held it, pushing on her lower back until she straightened out again. His other hand left her bladder, and she practically sobbed in relief.

"I really, really can't hold it," she cried. "Please don't do that again. I wasn't lying, I didn't come last night, I swear."

He cocked an eyebrow. "Oh? Really? I didn't say anything about lying. I'm ready to believe you, Cadence...if you're telling the truth. But you keep forgetting one of the most important rules. You will refer to me as 'sir'. I want it in every sentence, until it's as natural as breathing, do you understand?"

"That's - that's really hard to remember," she sputtered. He clucked his tongue, pressing against her bladder again, and she yelped. "Sir! I'm sorry, sir. I understand, sir."

He moved his hand away, chuckling. "I might just keep you like this," he said, voice low. "You're so cute and obedient when you're desperate."

"Please, don't," she whined, biting her lip. "It won't last much longer. Sir."

"I'm going to ask you again," he said, his tone even. "Tell the truth, and remember the rules, if you want to get to the bathroom quickly. Did you touch yourself last night? Or use that slutty little toy over there to get yourself off? Did you make yourself come?"

"N-no, sir," she breathed, praying he would believe her. "I swear, I didn't. Sir."

He blinked, then looked down and smiled with his lips closed. The moment weighed heavy in the air. Then he stood up.

"Okay, little slut," he said. "Let's go."

Cadence sighed, relieved. She was certain, for a moment, that he hadn't believed her.

***

She lied.

David was over the moon. It took all of his self-control not to whip his phone out force her to watch herself right then and there. He kept his face as blank as possible, keeping his movements deliberately smooth and unhurried as he unlocked and opened the closet door. Cadence winced as the sunlight hit her face, closing her eyes.

"Open your eyes," he said. "Blink slowly. You'll adjust."

She did as she was told, blinking her blue eyes against the light, her face relaxing as she got used to the shift from unnatural red to brilliant yellow. He led her away from the closet and around the unmade bed, towards the master bathroom across the room.

Cadence shuffled on her knees at his side, looking cute but absurdly awkward as she made her way across the carpet. He kept her on a short leash, jerking her upward by the throat whenever she leaned too far in one direction or the other. She met these incidents with an adorable glance that managed to mix relief and resentment in one instant.

When they arrived at the threshold to the master bathroom, David stopped. He gestured with two fingers. "Up."

Cadence struggled to her feet, and he guided her into the bathroom. Her steps were light against the cold tile, and she shivered a little as she looked around at the luxurious room. He wondered if she'd ever sneaked in here to use the whirlpool tub when her mother wasn't home. Laura had strict rules about privacy, but she didn't keep her bathroom locked up like her closet. And it was a really fucking nice bathroom, complete with a separate standing shower, the sunken tub, and dual sinks. Given the way Cadence gazed around in wonder, he expected she hadn't. She really was a good girl at heart. Just not for him. Not yet.

Cadence stood and faced him once they were standing next to the toilet.

"Uh..." she said, looking at him expectantly. He kept a hold on her leash, smiling at her a little, cocking his head.

"What is it?" he asked.

Her eyes, wide and uncomfortable, flickered back and forth from the leash, to his face, to the toilet.

"Can I have some privacy? Uh, please, sir?"

David folded his arms. "Do you think a collared bitch like you deserves privacy?"

The collar had been a stoke of brilliance this morning. He had bought it specifically for her weeks ago, of course - but she'd never guess that, simple as it was. Nor would she understand the significance of a dominant giving his submissive her own collar. When he bought it, it had been with vague, idealistic fantasies about his plans panning out well enough that she would want to be his, permanently. He'd imagined presenting it to her with an explanation of what it meant, the symbol of commitment a collar was, maybe a small ceremony of some sort.

He was feeling far less idealistic now, and a lot more sadistic. He couldn't believe her audacity this morning. Wearing clothes, calling him by his name, refusing to kneel. So, the collar became a different symbol. If she wanted to be a bratty little slut, act like a misbehaving animal, than he would treat her like one. He didn't see her lingering with him after this weekend - so, for now, the collar would mean she was in deep trouble. If he associated the collar with a deeper level of humiliation or pain, she would become more pliable when he put it on her again. Whatever it took to make her understand how serious he was about what he expected from her when it came to the rules.

He realized that he was going to have to hold off on showing her the video, as satisfying as that reveal would be. She wasn't ready to see it, to face her desire for him. He needed to pull out the shame in her again, the guilt and embarrassment - and the lust.

But first, the former. That was really his favorite part, anyway.

Cadence was staring at him apprehensively, chewing on her lower lip. Now that she was standing, her legs were crossed, and she was squirming around desperately, bending at the knees and waist. She was blushing brilliantly, a beautiful scarlet that stained her cheeks a color he never would have noticed in the red light of the closet dungeon. One drawback of the ominous mood lighting he preferred to torture women under. He was going to have to keep her out of her cage and in natural light more often this weekend.

"Go on," he said. "If you really have to go so badly, it shouldn't matter if I'm here or not."

"I really, really don't think I can," Cadence said, her face pinched. "This is so...this is so out of the ordinary, Dav- I mean, sir. You're the first person that's seen me naked. I've never..." she swallowed, looking faint, "I-I've never gone to the bathroom in front of anyone before, not even my best friend. This is something I would never, ever do. Please, I-I want to be good, but...can you at least turn around? Please, sir?"

He narrowed his eyes at her, considering. He knew this was a big leap, a significant jump from teasing and bondage and spanking. He hadn't really expected her to be okay with it. Be he wanted to threaten her with it, to show her that there was no boundary he would not push, if she continued to defy him. She'd begged nicely enough, and looked truly miserable. He relented.