Caged -- Days 4 & 5
Natasha slept fitfully on her third night in the cage. The aches and pains in her body were too persistent to ignore and the particular locations of her injuries meant she could not find a position in which to alleviate the discomfort. Her chest was the worst, throbbing painfully under the bandages. But when she tried to lie on her back, her ass and upper thighs suffered in turn. The area the subject of the caning was still very tender and would take at least another week to heal. The overall effect -- mentally, as well as physically -- was devastating. At a tender age of twenty-one, Natasha had never experienced anything like it. It was little wonder she was having second thoughts.
Lying in bed listening to her tossing and turning restlessly, Gabriel pondered his next course of action. He was not particularly concerned about the young woman's lack of comfort, but he knew from previous experience the kinds of complications that could arise and what they could lead to. Some women were tougher than others, it went without saying, but generally speaking they were weak. Much weaker than the men he had tortured and that had lasted for weeks before breaking down. Had this been just any girl he likely would not have cared so much, but this was Natasha. The daughter of an Army general and the most coveted girl at every base they went to. Gabriel had grand plans for her future. Notwithstanding all the things he put her through, he also planned to keep her healthy and in fighting spirits. Finally, he made up his mind, springing lightly from his bed. Time to give her a helping hand.
Halfway through another turn, Natasha realised Gabriel was there, leaning over her. In the darkness his blue eyes glowed like a wolf's and she cried out in fright, throwing an arm up before her. He caught her wrist with lightning speed and brought it back down.
"Relax," he ordered, firmly. "I'm here to take care of you."
While she looked at him in a daze, he pulled her out and placed her on a sort of a padded trolley on wheels, low to the ground. After strapping a wide belt around her waist, he proceeded to wrap leather cuffs around her arms and ankles, immobilising her completely. She moaned in sudden fear, but on this occasion at least, it was not justified.
"Shhh... shhh... be a good girl now and relax. Just relax," he crooned to her soothingly while stroking her hair, and slowly but surely, she grew quiet under his hand. She saw him turn away briefly and in the next moment he was strapping a piece of rubber over her bicep.
"No! Please... what are you doing?" she pleaded, her eyes wide. Instead of replying he tapped her skin lightly, looking for the vein. Having found it, he inserted the needle and taped it in place. He unstrapped the rubber letting the blood flow resume, before connecting the tubing and hooking her up to a drip.
"You'll feel a lot better soon," he told her as he wheeled her back into the cage. The gurney he was using seemed designed for the narrow space, for it fitted perfectly. Natasha watched him through drooping eyelids as he hung the drip on the outside of the bars and locked her in once more. Whatever it was that he gave her was fast acting, because she could feel her body relaxing already.
"Mmm..." she tried to thank him, but the powerful mix of anaesthetic and morphine was in full effect and before she knew it, her world went black.
*******
When Natasha next came to, the lights in the dungeon were on, which usually meant it was daytime. She felt better, if not exactly awake, and she gazed around her curiously wondering where Gabriel was. Although he had hurt her as he promised he would do, he had also given her pleasure -- and besides, he was the only person that she could hope to see while she was here. She felt pretty sure he was also the only one who knew where she was, a thought that scared her if she dwelled on it for too long. Supposing he left, what then? She could easily starve to death, alone where no one could find her. She shivered delicately, feeling the panic set in. Then through the bars she saw a shadow fall on the floor, and she realised he had been there all along. Watching her with his blue wolf eyes.
"Hello Natasha," he said in his usual calm voice as he strolled over to her cage. "How are you feeling today?"
She waited until he was squatting beside her, on the other side of the bars, to answer.
"Better, thank you," she said, looking him in the eye. He seemed pleased at the response. With a corner of his mouth lifting into a smile, he reached into the cage and placed a hand on her forehead -- the hand that had slapped her and cut her and caused her pain. Now it simply felt big and warm and very much male. Noticing the pattern of her thoughts, Natasha closed her eyes in embarrassment. What the hell was wrong with her? He was not interested in her, except for the purpose of his sadistic game.
Reading the expression on Natasha's face, Gabriel smiled more broadly. She was weakening, it seemed. That would make everything so much easier.
"You've been out for two days," he told her, watching as she recoiled in shock. She was still strapped down, however, and soon she slumped back weakly.
"I don't believe you," she said, frowning. Then, "What did you give me?"
Gabriel reached for her arm. He had left a needle in her vein, in case it was needed again, and he pulled it out as he replied.
"I gave you what you needed," it was all the information he would provide. He had neither the time nor the inclination to discuss the matter further. As he turned to her with a look of anticipation on his face, he saw her pupils narrow in fear.
Squirming inside her straps Natasha watched helplessly as the door to the cage swung open. Gabriel pulled the gurney out in one quick movement and took hold of her chain before undoing the straps. Then he stood back and waited for her to get up.
"No," he said when she tried to sit up. "On your hands and knees."
Shakily she complied. To her relief she did not feel dizzy and when he walked away tugging at the chain, she followed. She was wondering what he had in store for her when suddenly she saw him stop and place something on the floor. When he stepped to one side, she saw it was a bowl of food. Not milk or soup, but chunks of meat and vegetable and pasta that smelt as delicious as it looked. The only problem was, there was no spoon or fork and puzzled, she looked up at him for guidance.
"Eat," he ordered, in a tone that brooked no refusal. She reached for the bowl, but he kicked her hand away.
"No hands," he told her. When she failed to act immediately, he bent down and grabbed her by the back of her neck. Shoving her face into the bowl he repeated his earlier command.
"Eat," he said calmly. "Or I will feed it to you through a tube."
Natasha needed no further prompting. Feeling humiliated beyond words, she lowered her head and began to eat. It was not a very large serving and despite her handicap it did not take her long to finish. He made her lick the bowl out -- then he marched her to the tiled area that served as the bathroom. He never let her get up, but hosed her off on all fours, making her feel like his pet. Her hair was lank and sticky, and he shampooed it for her, pulling her head back to keep the soap out of her eyes. All his movements were measured and graceful and despite herself she found herself enjoying the attention. She even let him spread her legs and lather her private parts. He shaved her with a men's razor until there was no hair left. When he was done, he made her kneel before him so he could check her chest. She winced when he touched her scars, but he gave her a warning look that quickly shut her up. Having finished examining her, he nodded satisfied and led her back across the room.
"Time for some more fun," he announced. But as he pulled her to her feet preparatory to tying her to a large vertical wheel, Natasha had a sudden and irresistible urge to fight him. It was totally irrational, for two reasons. One, she could have used the safe word, and two, he was much bigger and stronger than she was. Yet, once the urge possessed her, she could not resist. She did not want to use the safe word and end the game, dammit! She only wanted him to cut her some slack, she thought miserably. Then, without warning, she stuck out her arms and shoved against him with all her might. While he was busy maintaining his balance, she kicked him as hard as she could between his legs.
Gabriel's reaction was not what she predicted. She knew she had hurt him, because he bent over gritting his teeth, but he did not fall down, nor did he give her a chance to get away. Instead, he yanked at the chain, pulling her toward him. Before she knew what was happening, he was lifting her off the ground, with one arm wrapped around her waist. A second later he had slammed her against the wheel with brute force. The air rushed out of her lungs, leaving her struggling for breath. He pushed against her with his great bulk while pulling her arms above her head. A second later, she felt the thick leather straps close around her wrists and she knew she was trapped. Again.
To say that Gabriel was angry would have been a vast understatement. Natasha's latest attempt at defiance outraged him. After all the care he had shown her, it was hard to believe she was dumb enough to try kicking him in the balls. Not that she missed. She just did not connect with enough force to incapacitate him. In Gabriel's opinion she could not have failed more dismally. She had not hurt him, but she sure as hell had made him mad. And there would be a price to pay.
"You stupid, stupid girl," he clucked, spreading her legs and tightening the straps around her ankles tighter than was necessary. "That's no way to treat your host. I have half my mind made up to escort you out of here, right now. What do you say to that?"
