CAGED

Chapter 3: Punishment

I pull away from the man as he stares at me, watching my tear stained face as I struggle against the bonds around my wrists. Slowly, he lifts the knife to his face and runs his tongue across the blade, lapping up my blood that lay on the cold metal. My eyes widen in horror as he lifts the knife away from his mouth and peers at me. He points the blade, leveling the tip with my collarbone. "Every lesson you learn will be followed, or you will be punished. Your new master is quite the sadist, so he doesn't mind me marking you up. It's always more fun when I can make my pets bleed. Are you going to be a good girl, learn quick, and behave? Or are you the stubborn kind of girl who fights the lessons and believes she can escape?" He presses the tip of the knife into my chest, barely puncturing the skin. "Time will tell," he laughs. "I do enjoy breaking the stubborn ones."

He presses the blade deeper into my skin, twisting it a little this way and that until a faint, bloody 'M' is marked on my chest. The blood drips down staining my pink bikini and suddenly I decide that I hate bubblegum pink. What a stupid thought to have as the man brings the blade back to my skin and begins drawing another letter, this time an 'A.' I continue to scream out as he draws eight more letters across my chest. The blood drips down my stomach and onto the shower tile and another stupid thought enters my mind: the shower must allow for an easier clean-up.

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The man, Master, walked out a while ago after turning the shower on; he left me hanging from the restraints as icy water pours over my entire body. I am shivering and shaking so hard that I can't keep my feet under me any longer and just leave my body to hang from the restraints. My shoulders ache against the weight of my body and I cry pitifully as the water washes away the blood that covers my body. That bastard cut me all over my stomach until I agreed to call him my master. My stomach hurts so much from the pain, and the water makes the cuts sting. My leg throbs from where he sliced it before, and my chest has finally washed clean so that I can see what he cut there. 'Masters Pet'

I have no sense of time and can feel myself fading away. My bodies violent shaking is the only thing keeping me conscious, though my senses are dulled entirely. The only thing I can hear is the water raining down on me and my teeth clinking together as they chatter in the cold. My vision is blurry, though I'm not sure if that's from the water or exhaustion, and my skin feels like needles are poking every inch. I don't hear the door open and I barely acknowledge the person in front of me as he reaches into the shower and turns the water off. My eyelids feel heavy as the man reaches above me and unclasps both restraints, my body falling to the floor in a heap. I'm vaguely aware of his rough hands grabbing my arms and pulling me from the bathroom, dropping me to the floor of the bedroom. My eyes close as exhaustion begins to take over and time becomes even more funny.

The man is standing beside me when my eyes close, but when they open again he's over near the dresser, turning towards me as they droop closed again. When I open them a second time, the man is standing over me with a long black stick in his hand. It kind of reminds of the ones you see riders hit their horses with to make them go faster. Did he want me to go faster? I wasn't even moving, but maybe that was the problem. I try to prop myself up on my arms, but they refuse to hold my weight. My eyes droop closed again.

A stinging pain across my back forces my eyes open again as I cry out. Before I can focus or figure out what's happening, the stinging pain strikes my back again. I bring my eyes up to the man and watch with disbelief as he brings the black stick down across my back for a third time. The fourth hit brings me fully awake and I clutch my hands into fists as I scream. Five, six, seven. The stick has sliced into my skin now, new blood drawn. Eight, nine, ten. He knows exactly where to aim to make the pain worse. Eleven, twelve, thirteen. Each new strike is hitting an already flayed part of skin and causing my blood to gush out. I lose count of how many times he strikes me and I feel my consciousness fading away once more. Black edges cloud my vision, creeping in until I can't see anything against the void. I pray that I can finally pass out and be taken away from this moment. I feel a rush of relief as I no longer feel the devil gouging my flesh from my back.