A Gilded Cage

*** I am completely new to this -- it is my first ever story! Please give feedback and help me learn.***

The sounds of gunfire were getting closer, it wouldn't be long now she thought. The war had been quick, her people had presenting little challenge for the heavy armaments of the empire. They were informed that they were now an imperial domain and forces had swept in the very next day, obliterating their tiny army. Nobody knew why it had happened.

Aneira sat high in the citadel, providing what comfort she could to the others as they awaited the inevitable. Her father, the King, had been taken from the summer palace within hours of the declaration of war, her brothers had left to aid the defence as best they could, and it was her duty to remain and provide strength to the household in the last hours. She'd have fought if she could but she didn't know how. She didn't suppose her brothers did either.

The bangs were getting closer now and she could hear aircraft overhead. They were barricaded in, in a small room set back into the rock of the cliff face. They were protected from air strikes here but little else. Worse than that, they were trapped -- they had come up here for safety, but the windows were small and high and the only way out was past the battle. There was a blast of gunfire in the corridor and then silence.

The room stank of fear in the late summer heat and those inside clung to one another for comfort. There was a chance that they would go unnoticed, she hoped it might be the case. She knew little of the empire or its ways but was afraid to fall into its hands. Her heart plummeted as she heard boots, and almost stopped entirely when they stopped by the door.

"Get this door open, I want this place searched."

There were heavy thuds as men rammed their shoulders into the wood. It creaked but did not break. One of the younger girls let out an audible wail of terror. All too audible -- they had heard, they knew. They were surely lost now. But then the banging stopped, replaced by an uneasy silence and then a low hiss, a low, but growing his. Her head swam and her eyes dimmed. Too late to escape, gas, they had pumped in gas.

"Oh now this might be something." Aneira heard a cold voice as if from far off, speaking with mild interest. The fog of her mind cleared just enough for her to be aware of a boot easing her arm away from her face. "Well that is a bit of luck. What a pretty creature she is too... Rodgers, come here. Get this girl back to my estate. Leave the others -- they are unimportant. Leave them for the slavers." A shape appeared from her periphery, large man, bending to pick her up. "Oh and Rogers, sedate the girl. It wouldn't do to have her flailing around and damaging my property." Aneira didn't even feel the needle, but the world dimmed again.

***************************

Charles smiled to himself as he opened the transportation crate. A pretty creature indeed, but with value far beyond her looks. He lifted her from the cushioned create and laid her gently on the rug. Eager to inspect his prize he cut the light dress away and stood back to admire her. She was pale against the deep red rug, with long shapely limbs and the tiniest little waist. He rolled her over. Rogers had done his job well. She had been freshly tattooed with his personal insignia, just above the curve if her arse. Just visible, along her spine above the mark was the faintest of cuts. Picking up a tablet from his desk he swept over the spot. It beeped satisfactorily. The tiniest of tracking devices, making her his beyond doubt.

Opening a box on his desk, Charles selected a pair of stout leather cuffs, and secured her hands behind her back before rolling her over again. Better that she wasn't capable of anything too drastic when she woke. He brushed long chestnut strands from her face before settling himself in a deep armchair, reading from the tablet. It shouldn't be too long to wait now.

Indeed it wasn't long before he glimpsed movement out of the corner of his eye and turned his attention back to the girl in the middle of his floor. She stirred and her eyelids flickered, peaceful and oblivious. With a jolt and a start she appeared to notice that her hands were bound. Fear gripped the little frame. She twisted and fought, naked and bound in a high grand room. He watched motionless as she struggled to a corner away from the fire, hiding her naked vulnerability in shade and attempting to asses her surroundings. Her fear amused him. What good sport her reaction had been, and what fun to come...

Her eyes adjusting to the flickering firelight but still dim from the sedative, Aneira began deliberately to calm herself, looking for an escape. As the panic and confusion ebbed she recalled the last day of the assault on the citadel. Was she now a prisoner? She must be, but this was no prison.

"Well isn't this good fun. I could watch your terror all evening, only I have other things to be getting along with."

She froze. Her eyes strained through the dim light to see the source of the voice, a man's voice, a rich, baritone, but hard and chilling. Then she caught movement. As he walked past the mantelpiece the dancing orange brought him into sharp relief. Tall and strikingly handsome, strong jawline and broad shoulders, he'd have been a pleasure to see but for the coldness of the grey eyes that watched her.

Retreating further into her corner she looked franticly for a weapon. He stood between her and the fire-irons following her gaze.

"Sharp little thing aren't you, but no, I don't feel like letting you hit me over the head with a poker this evening". The casual amusement in his tone frightened her more than any threat he might have made, but before she could edge further back into the wall, he darted towards her. Taking hold of a fistful of hair he dragged her roughly back to the hearthrug and flung her towards it. Her shoulder hit the edge of the wide granite hearth stone and she screamed. It was more in shock than pain, though doubtless it had hurt, but that shock was nothing to what she felt when she heard him begin to chuckle.

"There there girl, now be still and listen or you'll get far worse than a little bruise." He pulled up a wooden chair and set it next to her, sitting so as to tower over the crumpled figure. She saw high boots of fine leather as he crossed his legs, a foot settling mere inches from her face.

"Let us set a few things straight, shall we? You are the eldest daughter of the 1st wife of the king of that backwater valley you call your home country, yes? You are Aneira -- what silly names you primitives have -- and you are 21 years old? Oh don't bother answering, I don't have time to make you and I don't need you to confirm it. You are now nothing more than a prize bit of loot. You are a slave, and you are mine."

At this she began again to struggle away but he didn't seem to mind terribly. She was scared, in pain, and her mind was still clouded by drugs, she posed him no threat.

As he began once more to laugh at her struggles, a heavy door creaked at the far end of the room and she looked up to see a liveried man standing just within the circle of firelight.

"General Berkeley, your guests will be arriving within the hour. The main hall is arranged, and all is in order..." His eyes had strayed to the girl at his lord's feet and he quite forgot what he had intended to say.

"Good, fine. I'll be there shortly. We shall have an additional guest" eyes flashing towards Aneira "I shall be introducing her to the officers. Have Rogers meet me here in 15 minutes."

"Yes, my lord."

And with that he was gone. Aneira had no idea what he meant by 'introducing her to the officers' but she certainly didn't like the sound of it.

The General's attention was back on her. He was amused to see how far away she had managed to crawl: he did like a girl with fight. He stood up and kicked the light wooden chair back into the gloom, striding over to her and seizing her by the throat. She screamed and kicked and thrashed but could do nothing to hinder him. Before she knew how it happened she was face-up on the hearth rug, him straddling her hips with fingers still on her throat and feet hooked across her calves, pinning her down.

He ran his free hand across her cheek and down her neck to her breasts. "Small, perhaps a little small for some men's taste, but such pretty pink nipples" he circled his thumb around one hardening bud, talking to himself almost absent mindedly. His hand resumed its progress down across her narrow waist and curving hipbone. He sat back slightly to reveal her cunt and pushed one finger down into the slit. She tensed as a shudder of pleasure ran through her, taking her entirely by surprise, his finger had found her clit. Quickly joined by another, his fingers played lightly around it, teasing and caressing. It took all the strength she had left not to let out a moan. As quickly as they had arrived, his fingers left and edged further down. He leaned forwards into her, his chest against hers, their noses almost touching.

"Look at me, girl, eyes on mine, there's a good girl." She tried to turn away but felt his fingers tighten on her throat. Her eyes met his and she held his gaze in what she hoped was a defiant glare. This time she couldn't help but cry out, he pushed a finger roughly up inside her. In horror she saw his face break out into the largest smile she had seen so far. "Not only are you wet, my little slut of a pet, but you're a virgin. Oh you really were such a good find. I shall enjoy this."

And with that he appeared to be done, leaving her mortified that her body had betrayed her. Standing up he wiped his fingers on a pocket handkerchief. He picked up a heavy, charcoal grey military jacket from a table where it had lain unnoticed, and buttoned it over his fine white shirt, careful to ensure that it sat correctly across his broad shoulders, taking his time over each brass button. It occurred to her as he fussed with a broad leather belt, elaborate epaulettes, gloves, and a sword, that this must be his dress uniform. She preferred to focus on his dressing than think about what might be ahead, but her concentration was broken by a sharp knock on the door.

"General, you called?" This must be Rogers, she thought. His hulking silhouette had a familiarity she couldn't quite place, but she'd work it out later. Right now the general was distracted, she took the opportunity to crawl away as best she could.

"Yes, Rogers, thank you. The girl will be at supper tonight. Would you take her down to the hall and secure her, behind the top table; do you know where I mean?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. Do so now. Do you know where you can find everything you need?"

"Yes sir. I remember."

"Girl, you are to..." he noticed that she had managed to move a few feet from where he left her and grinned. "Oh I will have to beat that habit out of you, but no matter, plenty of time. You are to go with Rogers. Any trouble and he has my permission to drag you by the hair. And before you think about it, do not attempt to get away from him. He is a little bigger than you and little girls snap so easily." He knew Rogers considered it more than his life was worth to damage his superior officer's property, but there was no need to tell the girl that.

The larger man threw her easily onto his shoulder in an effortless display of quite staggering strength. He strode from the room and quickly down various corridors and stairs which Aneira barely glimpsed. She knew she should be making every effort to map the layout in her head but couldn't tear her mind away from wondering what would happen to her. She noticed that they were moving away from what she assumed to be his private apartments into far grander spaces until there were no longer walls either side of her and she was being carried through a great hall of spectacular proportions. Up past long tables set for what must be several hundred people, up onto a dais at the back of the room and round the top table. He climbed half a dozen broad steps behind the table and stood her on a small stone platform at the top.

She was barely aware as he uncuffed her hands from behind her back and fixed them again above her head, securing them to a hook such that she was forced to stand on tip toes. Satisfied that she wasn't going anywhere he disappeared through a narrow door to her left and out of her sight, returning moments later with something in his hand.

"Are you going to open up or will I have to force you to?" She didn't move, not quite comprehending, her brain nothing like as sharp as usual. He sighed and held her nose, causing her to gasp for air, at which point he shoved a gag in her mouth with the other hand, fixing the strap around the back of her head. With that he turned smartly and strode from the hall.

With a jolt Aneira's mind sparked back into action. She was bound, and entirely naked. This hall must surely soon be full of guests for dinner and with her elevated position she would be visible to the entire room, exposed to all eyes. There were four long tables stretching down the length of the hall, each seating at least 100. On the raised platform below her there was one smaller table parallel to the back wall, with room for perhaps two dozen. The thought of a thousand eyes on her naked flesh was alarming to the point of terror. She struggled, though without much hope, and soon decided that the energy would be wasted. She supressed the beginnings of a tear brewing in the corner of her eye: she would not give them the satisfaction.

The sound of men's voices brought a new surge of fear. As the hall began to fill up eyes fell upon her, some simply curious, but many with more than a hint of lust. She shut her eyes and squeezed the lids together, it would have to do for now.

"Eyes open slave, you can't make it go away that easily. Now. Before I have to make you." He spoke directly into her ear, hot breath on her neck. She opened her eyes. The hall was filled with men in smart dress uniform, similar to his but a little less elaborate. They were turned in their seats to face the top table, where more officers sat, twisting to see what was happening between their general and the girl. "Look, girl. Look around and admire. These fine men are my officers; they are the ones who obliterated your homeland."

He turned to face his men, and began to address the room. She didn't take in a word of his speech. Her gaze fell upon each of the faces in turn. Every one of them had some part in the destruction of a peaceful nation of scholars and artists. Some of them may even have killed people she had known.

She heard her name and was brought back to her current situation with a jolt. It was the general; he was still making his speech to his men. He was gesturing towards her, having clearly just introduced her.

"... and what better symbol could there be of our utter victory than this. She is a jewel amongst her people, pure and beautiful. And this is what we do to those who defy us."

Applause, a few cheers, she thought this might be it, that perhaps now dinner would be served and she would be forgotten. She had got her hopes up too soon. He turned to her and unlocked her hands from the wall, but left them bound together. He carried her down the steps to woops and jeers and dropped her down onto the top table in a clear space which had not yet been set for dinner. She was winded as her back hit the wood and cried out into the gag. He leant over her to remove it, whispering to her that he thought the men might enjoy hearing her scream.

He dragged her hips to the edge of the table, her legs either side of his. A finger began working against her clit as another pressed her down into the solid table. That wasn't all that was solid either, she felt him. As he ground his crotch into hers she felt a growing hardness. She suddenly realised what was about to happen.

"No! No, please, you mustn't, please stop, no!" Her fearful cries only increased the laughter and jeers from the men, but she kept it up. She struggled and attempted to squirm away as he dipped a finger inside, thumb on her clit, distracting hew with shards of pleasure. He held her firm with his other hand tight on her hip and leaned over to whisper again in her ear.

"Eyes on me remember, if you look away I'll have someone hold your eyes open. Now scream for me." Defiantly she fell silent, but did not look away.

His hand left her cunt and moments later she felt him press against her moistening hole, cock free of his trousers. He lined himself up grasped both sides of her hips firmly. He paused, to look down at her tearful, trembling face, large green eyes begging him to stop. He pushed himself into her, roughly, brutally, tearing through her maidenhead.

She had been determined not to scream, but as he forced his thick length of cock up into her with so little warning she could do little to stifle it. As she cried out in shock and pain a cheer rang out amongst the assembled officers. She steadied herself and tried to ignore them all, she knew her ordeal was far from over, he had barely started.

Giving her thirty seconds to adjust to the intrusion, and revelling in the applause, the general fought with himself not to carry on immediately. The squeezing tightness would have been enough on its own, but her squirming escape attempts felt glorious.

She felt him pull out and push back in to the hilt with a grunt. She was being ripped apart, cunt full of burning, tearing steel. He began to move inside her, a finger now working gently on her clit, long, controlled strokes deep inside her.

It hurt, everything hurt. His grip on her hips hurt, the edge of the table digging into her spine hurt, and most of all his intrusion into her body hurt. But there was something else too. As he thrust into her she felt a warmth bubbling up from deep inside. She tried to push it from her mind; it was unthinkable that she might enjoy this. He was moving faster now, rapid strokes, filling her up, still painful, still ripping, but the pleasure was building and coming in waves.

It took her with such surprise that she couldn't restrain the moan. She bucked her hips and arched her back, lost in the feeling. Her cunt squeezed down as she lost control and she became aware that his movements had changed too. He was deeper than he had been before, his cock twitching and pulsing, then warmth flooded her. He held her on him as he emptied into her, his eyes never leaving hers.

The sounds of the room rushed back as he pulled away from her. There were cheers, and claps, but she didn't care, she didn't want to think about any of it. She felt herself lifted by strong arms, it was Rogers again, but he was far gentler than he had been before. She was carried through a side door and away through a maze of rooms that she didn't care to see.

Everything blurred and meant nothing. She remembered a bathroom where he allowed her to clean herself off a little. There was blood in the cum that she washed from her thighs. And then through the room with the fireplace from earlier, to a door on the far side, she saw a grand half-tester bed and was placed carefully on a chaise lounge at its foot. A collar was fitted to her neck, attached firmly by a short chain to a bolt in the footboard. Her hands were released and retied in front of her, but this time with softer cuffs. Rogers threw a light woollen blanket over her and bent down to sweep stray tassels from her face.

"Dinner will take several hours, you'll be left alone. There's no point trying to escape, so try and get some sleep, there's a good girl." He spoke softly, not unkindly, but it did nothing to reassure her. He turned the lights off as he left.

She stretched as best she could. The couch wasn't deeply cushioned, but the damask coverings were soft enough to ease her aches. Her shoulder throbbed from the impact against the hearth and her lower back felt tight and uncomfortable. The burning between her legs was less than it had been, but she felt raw and torn. She was sure she wouldn't be able to sleep.