Passions of a Caged Bird

"Stop stalking me and I'll go. And I have to change first." I watched as his face lit up with satisfaction and excitement. "You know where I live, pick me up in two hours." He smiled and extended his hand for another awkward handshake. I gladly took it and watched as he leaned in to kiss it.

"What is your name?" I hesitated.

"Caitlyn..."

"Caitlyn." He repeated and smiled. "I will see you in two hours Caitlyn." He picked up and handed me my bags , helping me close the store as I left. I watched him walk across the street and down an alley, and my heart raced with excitement. I practically ran home and threw my bags at the door.

The problem was, I had dedicated my life to long nights of study, and a cup of tea and book in the daytime. My wardrobe was painfully lacking anything that could be perceived as date night ready, forcing me to get creative and read up on a few DIY's. I ended up finding a green dress I had worn to high school graduation, and some flats I basically lived in. I looked in the mirror at myself, praying to suddenly become a beautiful makeup and fashion guru. My long dark brunette hair was pulled into a bun, with my growing bangs hanging listlessly around my face. My eyes were a dark hazel, and my lips were bare, but I looked presentable. I was decent looking, but never satisfied with my reflection. I found myself plain and boring, although some argued. I gave myself one last look in the mirror before grabbing my only coat and bag, and waiting on my couch.

He knocked at exactly eight o'clock and I promptly took a deep breath and prayed for the best as I opened it. Reed stood tall and confident, his peacoat unbuttoned and exposing his white button up shirt that was only a little more than half buttoned. He had it tucked into his jeans, and his hair looked as if he had just run his fingers through it.

"You look... beautiful." He half smiled and extended his arm for me to hold onto. I blushed and looked down, halfway muttering, "You look pretty hot too." He laughed at me and called me bold.

He walked me to a little restaurant near the train, covering my head with an umbrella the whole time. I was surprised at the amount of gentleness he treated me with, a stark contrast with his previous frightening and bold demeanor. Throughout dinner he kept polite conversation going, and I found it very easy to talk with him. He seemed kind, and overall just as curious about me as I was about him. It felt good, refreshing to be out with him on a date, and as it came to a close, my stomach leapt.

"So did you enjoy yourself?" I was already in love with his half smile. I giggled as he wrote the check.

"That was my first date in a while, and surprisingly I did."

"Me too. To both." He handed the waitress the check and she told us to have a good night. I anxiously grabbed my bag and looked up at him.

"So uh my place or yours?" I stuttered, unsure of his response.

Seriousness suddenly broke out across his face. His brow darkened and his half smile disappeared. He leaned closer to me.

"I don't think you want that." I laughed and shrugged.

"It's been a while, I think I'd be fine." He stared deeply into my eyes, with no hint of laughter evident. I recoiled slightly in fear, his intensity clashing with my casual approach.

"Really. I don't think you do." I leaned away from him, embarrassed. Everything felt wrong now, and I just wanted to go home. His gaze was too intense for me. I had made a wrong assumption.

"Oh." I looked down at my hands that nervously twitched.

"It's not you it's just I... " He exhaled, exasperated. I could tell he was getting frustrated, and he quickly ran his fingers through his hair. He slammed his fist on the table and I jumped. As soon as I did he looked up at me, with concern.

"I'm so sorry...It's not you it's that I...can I show you something? I just want you to understand Caitlyn." I gripped my bag harder. That sounded somewhat scary. However, I wanted it too bad at this point, and perked up when he asked if I would come to his home with him. Butterflies replaced my anxiety and I looked back up at him. He still looked serious, and more than hurt, but I saw a chance and took it.

"Of course." He solemnly looked at me and offered his arm for support as we headed out to where he lived.

Outside, the rain was pounding the concrete, and the night was settling in. Cars headlights flashed at us as we walked up the street. As I had begun to notice since I moved here, most people seemed to hibernate during the winter, because the rain and chill was infectious. Hardly anyone was still out, and all I could hear was the rain on a thousand roofs and our feet making tiny splashes in pools on the sidewalk. He continued to hold the umbrella for me, but without the warmth and gentleness as before. He was extremely guarded, and there was a darkness hiding in his beautiful and stony face that hadn't been there before. Briefly, I wondered if I had made a mistake, and NOW is when I'll get murdered. The change that came over him was so fast and abrupt, I hardly had time to decipher why he could be so upset. All I asked was if he wanted to have sex with me, and most men would be grateful for my bluntness. Reed obviously wasn't most men. This didn't help my near obsessive intrigue with him.

We rounded a corner and reached an old brownstone, that stood at a good 10 stories. He quickly entered his pin and opened the door for the two of us, shaking off the umbrella.

"I'm on the eighth floor." He sounded distant, but his voice was as smooth and low as before.

I looked around for an elevator, and noticed there was only a long flight of stairs. I watched him nervously run his hand through his hair again, and begin the ascent up to his room. I am no athlete, and beyond that, I actually loathe any physically strenuous activities. I tried to conceal my embarrassing panting, as he was completely silent and unaffected by the hike uphill. When we finally reached the eighth floor, my cheeks were slightly rosy, but I was able to conceal by breathing almost silently from my mouth. Damn me and not working out. I should be in better shape. We approached his room and he put the key in the hole. He hesitated.

"I'm not..." he sighed, "I'm not a bad guy."

I put my hand on his shoulder, getting more nervous as time went on. What if I made a mistake? I wanted to trust him, but his behaviour was odd.

He turned the key and opened the door, revealing a room completely decorated as an old english manor. The walls were decorated in hundreds of clocks, almost obstructing the deep red walls. They all clicked at the same time.

"This is the drawing room. I collect clocks." I watched them all run in unison, and felt slightly anxious. The couch was deep red and looked straight out of an Anne Rice book. He had several tables, all black and with bear feet. I admired the room as I took it all in. It was comfortable, and beautiful in an old fashioned romantic way. I turned to him only to find he had been watching me the entire time. He tried to put his sarcastic smirk on, but I could tell he was desperate for my approval. I gloated in this for a moment before saying,

" Wow. I love the style. It reminds me of victorian London." Relief flooded his face and he nodded, with his half grin.

"I'm a bit of a fan of it. " That seemed to be an understatement. Every room that I could see was decorated in this way as well, minus the clocks. Although initially I found it slightly off putting, it began to grow on me, and it helped create the atmosphere of romance. I looked at him. His hair had fallen over his eye and he was looking down at his right hand. He was intensely beautiful. All I wanted to do was slowly take his clothes off and feel his body pressing against mine. I thought about this for a moment, then stepped toward him. I put my hand on his shoulder. He looked at me and, turning, pushed my hand off of his shoulder.

"My tastes aren't traditional Caitlyn. I don't want to frighten you." I laughed.

"Obviously. I'm not scared off by your weird clock collection or your old english obsession. I'm not that easily frightened." He looked me dead in the eyes, unrelenting.

"Follow me."

We walked down the hallway until we reached a door with a heavy looking lock. He took a large key from under his shirt out and off from around his neck.

"What you're about to see might scare you, but I assure you it's safe." I took a deep breathe as my heart began to race.

He turned the key in the lock and slowly opened the door.

What was inside, I wasn't sure of at first. I walked in slowly, taking in my surroundings. The black walls were hung with assortments of strange things, some that I knew, and some that were foreign to me. I recognized the several leather floggers, the horse crop and cane, and a long snaky looking black whip. They glinted in the white light. The room seemed to glow rather than having one direct light source, and everything was visible. There were several complicated looking appendages hanging from the ceiling, and many bars that looked as if they were to have a body tied to them. In the corner, there was a heavy wooden chair that looked like a throne, and small cuffs at the foot. I took in the room, my mind racing and my heart speeding up. So he wasn't a murderer, he was a rapist. I loathed my choice in men in that moment so much it hurt.

"I'm a sadist, but not the kind you might think. Seeing just anyone in pain doesn't do things for me...I...I enjoy inflicting pain...on women." He walked towards me and studied my face for any signs of a reaction, but I yielded none. I had been with many men, and seen a lot of fucked up shit, but never had I seen such extensive measures taken, to cause pain to another. I looked at him as well.

"It's a sexual game I play. There are rules. If you choose to play, you can tell me yours, and I can tell you mine. There are also safe words, and I encourage you to use them. The pain will never be more than you can bear, and as long as you do what I say, it'll be fun." He turned to face me and grabbed my face gently.

" I understand if this is too much. Most people would have left already. And by no means would I ever subject you to any pain you aren't okay with. I'm not trying to scare you away, but it's a part of who I am and I can't change that." He let go of my face, but refused to avert his intense gaze. I looked round the room again, and imagined what it would be like to be tied up in one of the machines. To be completely under his control, and subject to his sadistic pain inducing fantasies. I also imagined going home and never speaking to or about him again, and found that solution equally, if not more painful as being a part of this room. There was always something. This was the weirdest thing I had seen though, but it gave me a rush I can't exactly describe. I looked back at him, at his eyes that were burning holes in my skin and at the whip dangling delicately on the wall.

"Okay." He raised an eyebrow.

"Okay what?"

"Okay, I'll do it. I'm curious to say the least." He leaned back and folded his arms, studying my face more intensely than before, and causing me to want to shiver with nerves.

"Are you sure Caitlyn?" I straightened myself up and smirked at him.

"I said I was. Now, what do I have to do?" His arms still folded, he snickered and looked down, letting his hair fall in front of his eye again.

"Rules first." I nodded and he half smiled, leading me outside of the room, and back to the drawing room. He sat across from me at his black dining table and folded his hands on top of each other.

"My rules are, don't touch me unless I tell you you can. Once in the room, I am not Reed and you are not Caitlyn, I am your Master and you are my slave. Do you understand?"

I nodded slowly. God, what was I getting myself into.

" You will not talk about what goes on in the Red room with anyone besides me. And lastly, if anything is too much for you, use the safety word Caramel Apples and everything stops."

"Okay. I can do that." I shyly stated.

"Now your turn. Any rules?"

"No buttstuff. And I don't do girls." He chuckled.

"Is that all?"

I thought for a moment and then nodded slowly again. " That's it."

He smiled at me and leaned in.

"Are you sure you're okay with everything?" I smiled back.

"Yes Reed, I am okay with it."

I sounded so much surer than I felt. The idea that I could be tied up and flogged in a matter of minutes made my stomach sink, but sent adrenaline throughout my body, quivering with curiosity. He stood up and extended his hand. I reached for it and we walked back down the hall towards the Red Room. I began picking at my dress with nerves, desperate to get it over with. But I wanted his body, and this was the price I had to pay. As he reopened the door and we entered, he tucked his hair behind his ears, and I took a deep breath.

"Turn around." Before I could protest such a harsh command, I realized obedience was rule I had agreed to it. I turned my back to him and focused my eyes on the dangling hooks from the ceiling. He wrapped his arm around my waist, and began unzipping my dress. It fell like a puddle of green around my feet, leaving my body completely exposed besides my underwear, which was plain black and unconsidered. I mentally scolded myself for not putting on cute underwear for my first date in years. A first date that ended up being far kinkier than I could have imagined.

As soon as his fingers met my bare torso, I felt myself get goosebumps. They were so cold, but they felt perfect. They felt how I thought it would.

"Step out of your dress and face me."

Cautiously, I did as I was told, and faced him. His eyes scanned me over, with no shame for staring at my bare breasts. He brought his hands up to cup them , and he leaned towards me.

"Keep your hands where I can see them." He began rubbing my nipples back and forth between his index and forefingers as I moved my hands from behind my back to resting on my thighs. He spat on my breasts. The saliva slid down to my nipple where it slowly dripped off and onto the black tile.

"Get on your knees in the center of the room."

"Okay." He chuckled darkly.

"You say yes sir. Do you understand?" As I got on my knees carefully, he made his way over to me and towered over me. He leaned in close to my face, At first I thought he was going to kiss me , but he withdrew and spat down on my face. I shuddered but didn't shrink away. He turned his back to me and walked to the wall where he took the horse crop down. He slowly swaggered back, swinging the crop back and forth. Its slim head glinted in the light, revealing it was made of pure leather. I bit my lip to keep from anticipating the pain.

"You didn't answer me."

"Yes sir." He drew back his arm and brought the horse crop down on my thigh. I yelped.

"You will speak when you're spoken to. Is that understood?"

"Yes sir." The spot on my thigh had turned a bright pink. The funny thing was, I didn't hate it. It burned, but the pain merely fueled my excitement. He began walking around me in slow circles, staring at my body.

"Your body pleases me." I held back a slight giggle at this awkward kinky compliment. That was probably as sweet as this was going to get, but it was still kind of sweet none the less.

"Thank you, sir." The crop came down hard again this time on my back and I cried out.

"Your job is to please me. You are my slave. You are nothing. Do you understand?"

My back burned intensely, and I bit back the tears caused by the pain.

"Yes sir." My voice faltered. He leaned back down and this time, his lips met mine, and my body was sent into a flurry of butterflies. God his lips were soft. I could kiss them forever. but just as I was about to go in for another one, he stood up and spat on me again.

"See the table? Get on it and spread your legs." I looked around for it, then slowly made my way over, aware of his eyes following my ass. I settled down and opened my legs as sensually as I could. I watched his eyes trail from my face to my breasts, down my stomach and to the spot between my spread legs. He's eyes looked like an animal's closing in on its prey. I suddenly became wet at the thought of what I was doing and how exposed I was. The nerves got to me. He stood above me still, running his hands up and down my thigh and making eye contact with me the whole time. Everything he did was intense. It drew me in.

Reed slowly began taking off my panties, retaining eye contact all the while. Finally, they reached my ankles and he threw them off. The horse crop laid beside me on the table, as a warning to me, and I was reminded of it when he reached for it.

"Spread your legs." He lightly slapped my inner thigh with the crop, sending fire throughout that area of my body. With his other hand, he pulled my legs open so harshly, I fell onto my back. I could feel myself get more and more lubricated as he sat at the chair level with my pussy. I closed my eyes in anticipation, and nearly jumped when his hands suddenly clamped down on my wrists, pinning me to the table.

"You aren't allowed to move, and you aren't allowed to come. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir." My voice was low and much more relaxed than I had assumed. This atmosphere he had created got me on a deeper level.

His tongue carefully circled the lips of my vagina, and I shivered and moaned. My back arched upon initial contact and he pinned my hands harder. I could feel his warm, wet tongue flick up and down my pussy, which became increasingly wet the more he teased me. He began to work faster, and I practically started dripping onto the black surface, as his teeth closed in on clit. It was almost too much. I let out another moan and he abruptly stopped. He reached for the horse crop again. Still in the aftermath of the intense pleasure he gave me, I didn't notice him drawing back his arm again and screamed when my right breast erupted in intense pain.

"Answer me slave, what did I tell you to do?"

"You said not to move or come." The horse crop flew down and met my left hip and I sharply drew in air through my teeth.

"You call me sir. Try again." The crop came down on my left thigh and I cried out, my face scrunching in pain.

"You said don't move or come sir." He half smiled and lowered his face towards mine.

"Thats a good girl." His lips brushed against mine, but he pulled himself back before we could kiss.

"I'm afraid you're going to come, so get up and get down on your knees."

Feeling euphoric from the near orgasam I almost had, I gladly sat up and got back

on my knees on the cool tile floor. I heard him undo his belt and gaped when he turned around revealing his cock. Maybe it was because I hadn't seen a real one in two years, but I couldn't help but feel impressed at what I saw. It was huge, and he held it in his hand like a trophy. He didn't give me much time to investigate it however, before carelessly

forcing my mouth open with it. I gaged upon impact, but quickly remembered that this used to be a fairly engaging skill of mine, and began using my old tricks. His hands never left my head, as he forced himself in and out of my mouth, so hard I couldn't help but gag every so often. This lasted until my eyes started to water from my gag reflux, and he sharply withdrew himself, and I allowed air back into my lungs. He grabbed my chin and spat in my eye, rubbing it in as he pulled his pants back up, concealing his massive cock.

"You pleased me slave. I'm going to reward you, because I am a generous master, do you understand?"

"Yes sir, you are a generous master." I wasn't sure why, but I could slowly feel my sanity slipping, and I found myself at a point where I would do any sexual favor he asked of me, willingly. "Get back on the table."