Caged By Them (Descent Into Darkness 1)

Oh god—that hurts—I’m afraid to scream.

Reynard dripped the wax on my nipples, down my abdomen, and let a few drops fall on my clit. Fear of screaming no longer mattered—that hurt too much for me not to cry out. He didn’t seem to be upset by my whimper, in fact, I think it turned him on. He spent nearly an hour torturing me with the candle wax, letting it burn skin that had never been kissed by fire before. There was something erotic about it, even though it wasn’t something I would have sought out on my own. He had all the power—I had none. That was a strange feeling—one that pulled at my mental fortitude. Did I actually like it? I felt my pussy getting wet—desires burning my soul like the wax burned my skin. When the candle was snuffed out, I felt an almost—sadness. I wasn’t going to feel that pain anymore.

But he has more in store for me—he’s going for one of the whips.

“Teased and tortured,” Reynard chuckled. “I wonder how much of a tease this will be.”

Reynard snapped his wrist and I felt the whip strike my inner thigh. It was a cat-o-nine tails with several braided strands. It was hard enough to leave a sting behind, but not so hard as to break skin. A whip like that could have easily peeled away a layer of skin of Reynard wanted it to. He whipped my inner thighs several times, coming dangerously close to my pussy, but never letting one of the braided strands land there. Then he worked on my abdomen—my breasts—the nipples that were clamped. The whip chipped away at the wax when it got to my breasts—and then I felt it strike my exposed nipple. The clamp caught most of the impact, but that just made it twist and shoot agony through my veins.

“Ow…” I pushed my tongue against the gag and whimpered.

I immediately felt the whip—a little harder than before. I had managed to form a word instead of a scream, even with the gag in my mouth—I wasn’t supposed to talk. Reynard punished me for it with several hard snaps of the whip. I wished I could close my mouth—I could bite my tongue—that would keep me silent. But the gag kept my mouth open, so all I could do was mentally tell myself not to speak again. Reynard worked me over with the whip until my flesh was sore—soreness that extended from my breasts to my inner thighs. I saw him put the whip back on the wall and then he walked back over. I looked up at him—wondering what else he had in store for me.

“Turn over.” Reynard leaned down and started unfastening the straps.

Yes Master. I nodded and obeyed, feeling the cool leather against my punished flesh as I turned over on the bench—it actually felt good against the burn.

“You’re so fucking wet.” I felt his hand on the back of my thigh once the cuffs were put back in place. “I guess it wasn’t a lie when you said this would turn you on.”

I never imagined that would become reality.

“I’m going to use your mouth, and then I’m going to attach a vibrator to your clit—one that will hum for the entire night—you remember him telling you about that, don’t you?” Reynard chuckled and positioned my chin against the leather.

Oh god—no, please don’t!

I didn’t get a chance to think about the vibrator. Reynard unfastened his pants and pushed his dick into the ring gag—and my mouth was his as long as he wanted it. I could barely use my tongue, much less my lips. Reynard shoved his cock deep in my throat—gagged me—and then started to fuck my mouth. I remembered when John said he would do that to me—I remembered how much I told him I would love it. The reality was different, yet it still made my pussy react and it sent a strange excitement through my body. That excitement was going to last long because an entire evening of torment awaited me when he was done. I took his length—over and over until I felt him start to throb.

“Such a filthy mouth—designed for taking cock and nothing else.” He let out a gasp and then he started to erupt in my throat.

It was harder to swallow with the ring gag. He emptied his load and when he pulled back, his lust was pooled against my tongue and dripping down my chin. I couldn’t tilt my head to force it down my throat. I felt his hands on my body. Even after being punished, I was still feeling that urge—a need to come. I heard a drawer being opened and then he started fastening something around my waist—something that pressed against my clit when it was secured. He walked back in front of me and I saw a remote in his hand.

“I have a camera right there.” He pointed to the wall, where I assumed the pinhole was what he referenced. “I’ll be watching you—and every time you feel the vibration get stronger—I’m enjoying your torment.”

He held out a remote and pushed a button—one that made the vibration immediately start. It amplified, then lowered—lowered to nothing more than a slight buzz. I knew I was going to be wearing the harness all night—that was what John said he would do to me. Reynard walked to the door and turned out the lights without another word—then the vibration got stronger. I moaned as all of the desires that had been bottled while I was being punished started to flood my veins—but he didn’t give me enough to come. He let it tease me until I was at the cusp of bliss—and then it was turned off. I felt the aching—the need—desires that had never been stronger—then, the vibration started again. It was dull, but it got faster—until I was about to come again. Then he turned it off for the second time. And that was just the beginning.

Reynard

I watched Lizzy on the monitor, teasing her with the remote as I aimlessly stroked my satisfied cock. It was already starting to get hard again—begging for another taste of her hot, wet mouth. I thought about returning to chase my desires again, but my needs had to be throttled. She needed to endure the vibration for the entire night. I spent nearly two hours just watching her suffer—watching her come close—then pulling the pleasure before she could orgasm. When I finally felt sleep calling my name, I let her come—then I left the vibration at a dull roar. That’s where it would stay—and I planned to sleep late. She promised her victim that she loved being tortured and teased—it was time for her to make good on that promise.

I have a feeling she’s going to regret that promise.

The next day

I woke up the next morning with a smile on my face when I remembered the torment Lizzy had endured. I stayed in bed for thirty minutes, stroking my cock to the thought of it before returning to the monitor and staring at her exhausted face. I wondered how many times the dull roar had made her come in the six hours that I had been asleep. She looked like she had been destroyed—her eyes were red-rimmed with lingering tears—and her groans were like music to my ears. They weren’t just groans—she was begging and pleading with every echo that rushed from her throat. A part of me considered leaving her there for the entire day, but I had made promises too—promises in the contract that I had to fulfill.

I guess I’ll give her a little respite before I send her back to the cage for the day.

I turned off the vibration and gave her some time to recover while I made breakfast. My cock was throbbing in my pants the entire time. I wanted her—lips, ass, pussy—it didn’t matter. I just needed to sink my cock into her body and ravage one of her holes. I wasn’t going to be able to make it through another night without taking her innocence. Her mouth had been a wonderful distraction, but what I truly craved was her tight virgin cunt. It was mine when I wanted it, and I had tortured myself long enough. She would fully

understand by that point that her question about Wyatt was what kept me from taking it—and she would beg to give it to me as penance, even if she wasn’t fulfilling one of her promises.

“I trust you had a pleasant evening.” I put a cheerful tone in my voice as I opened the door to my playroom and stepped inside.

Silence—the only response she was allowed to provide. She was definitely learning, like the good little submissive slut I was turning her into.

“Let’s have breakfast.” I removed her restraints and let her get up from the bench.

Her body is such a beautiful canvas—one that deserves to be painted by agony every single day.