A Gilded Cage

The next installment - for your pleasure.

Trigger warning: this chapter gets quite nasty towards the end. I can't say much without spoiling but if it all gets a bit too horrible for you, just skip, and I'll include a summary at the beginning of the next one. I felt it important to include this section, but it is rather grim at times!

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She woke up fully dressed on the chaise lounge to find him already working at the small table, with his back to her. It wasn't even dawn yet - had he been to sleep at all? The enormity of it all pressed unbearably upon her. She was alone, aside from him. All she had in the world was the monster that took such pleasure in raping and humiliating her. She wanted to get away from it, for it to be over, but she did not even know where to begin.

She no longer cared. She wanted this over. She didn't care if he did kill her, but she wanted the bastard to suffer. There was a letter opener on the desk. If she could reach it? She stood and walked to him, noticing the coffee pot and litter of cups amongst the paperwork, standing with her back to the desk.

"My lord, what has happened?" She smiled sweetly, her tired eyes meeting his, but her fingers behind her back had found the letter opener.

"What? Oh, you are awake. I'm sorry pet I can't talk now."

She edged closer, lowering her eyes. "There's no need for us to talk, lord. You look so weary and tense. I thought I might help..."

He glanced at the screen of his phone. "Yes, yes I have time. I'd appreciate it. You are being such a good girl this morning." She had slipped the letter opener up her sleeve and the blade rested coldly against the inside of her wrist. It was hardly razor sharp, but she hoped it would do.

She knelt between his legs, her heart pounding, threatening to burst through her chest. As he helped her take off his trousers she kissed and licked, feeling him relax. She didn't really know what she was doing, but thought only of getting close to his most vulnerable places. Still, he seemed to be enjoying her work. She placed her left hand on the shaft as she slid the knife from her right sleeve, her tongue working against the tip of his cock as the blade found the soft flesh of his inner thigh.

All of a sudden he felt cold steel in the most sensitive of places, and froze.

"How long will it take you to bleed out if I cut this artery?"

"Long enough for me to kill you bloody. Don't even think about it."

"I'm more than thinking about it." She pushed the blade, drawing blood. But it was only a letter opener, and with all the force she could muster she wasn't sure it would work. Damn. It was no good. She slid the knife up to his balls. "You'll never hurt me that way again. You'll never hurt another girl. I don't care what it costs me." The blade had found its target and she tensed, ready to push with all her might.

There was fear in his eyes and she savoured it - revenge for all that he had done to her and all that she knew. She had never deliberately caused pain before in all her years, but she was prepared to enjoy this, whatever he did to her afterwards.

A bead of blood ran down the knife, staining her thumb nail, and out of nowhere he sprung, seizing her wrist, twisting it, wrenching it, forcing her arm behind her back as he pushed her to the floor.

"Next time pet, only stop to glory in your victory once you are sure it is in your grasp." He buckled his trousers with his free hand as he spoke. She was very afraid now, but she didn't regret it. She'd try to hurt him at every opportunity she had, regardless of the risk. She hated him more than ever.

"I'll kill you. I'll kill you in your sleep." He gave her a savage kick, and felt a rib crack. "Go on, you monster, beat up a girl half your size. Is that the only way you can feel like a man?" He took the knife from her hand and thought about breaking the wrist before letting her go. She didn't crawl to a corner or under the table, but turned to face him, clutching her side, with fire in her eyes. "Go on. Are you too coward to hit me?"

"You are nothing to me, whore." He hissed every word, spiteful and angry. He seized her throat and dragged her to her feet before bending her backwards across the table. "Be very thankful, cunt, that I am immensely busy today. I'll thrash you until you don't remember what it is not to be in pain." He threw her across the room, landing like a rag doll, choking for air. "I have more important things to be doing today. But I'll be back." He aimed a heavy kick to her thigh. "I'll be back and I'll deal with you." Another struck her shoulder.

He tied her hands and ankles, leaving her bound on the floor, the fight gone from her for the moment, a mess of swollen, bleeding lumps. A few minutes later she heard a helicopter take off and she breathed again, guessing him to be gone.

Strong hands lifted her, but they didn't feel like his, and were far more gentle. "Shit, you're a mess girl. I'm going to help. Don't fight me." It was Rogers. "If I cut you lose do you promise not to cause trouble?"

"What if I tried to kill you too?"

"It would be a stupid way of getting more things broken. I don't want to hurt you, I really don't. I'm not him. Come on girl, let me help you." She relaxed and felt a steel blade - much sharper than hers had been - slice through the ties.

"Rogers! What the hell happened here?!" It was May's voice, and the little woman had run to her side, fussing over her wounds.

"I couldn't tell you. But he's angry. I thought he'd kill her. I'll get her up, you go and run a bath. Come and get me when you are ready." Rogers sat her up, looking immensely concerned. Aneira couldn't meet his eye. She had forgotten how to react to kindness without ulterior motives.

"Why did you do it girl? What possessed you?"

"He destroyed everything. He rapes me. He hurts me. He'll kill more. I have to."

"No, please, don't think like that. If you fight him he will make every day of your life an agony beyond what you can imagine. I know him - I have worked with him for a decade. If he can't have you he will destroy you so thoroughly you won't know yourself. Please, I could not bear to see it happen to you."

"Then stop him. Help me to stop him."

Rogers sighed, looking rather distressed and a little guilty. "I can't. I can't and I wouldn't if I could."

"You are twice his size! You could hurt him like he hurts me."

"No, I couldn't. He's like nobody I've ever sparred with. I don't stand a chance."

"Shoot him. Or give me a gun. Leave one where I can find it. Anything!"

"No." He spoke more firmly now. "He is my commanding officer. He is a brilliant general. My loyalty is to my homeland and I will not do this for you. If you want to hurt him you are on your own. But if you want to survive him, and endure him, then I will help you.

"What have I got to live for? I have nothing. What do I care if he kills me?"

"You must understand. He will not kill you. He will torture you to insanity, use you, hurt you, torment you, until there is nothing left. Please girl, do not anger him, just accept this."

"I cannot. I won't. I will not be his creature to fuck and beat as he pleases."

"Then I am sorry. I cannot help you. But it isn't only you that you need to think about now. You are a queen this morning. You can choose to work with him. You can help them. You can make the difference between mutually beneficial co-operation, with peaceful relations, or him carpet bombing your people."

"My... Would he? What can I... How?"

"Please him. Work with him. Beg him if you must. Forget your own dignity and sacrifice for them. Just try it. Please?"

"I don't know. I hurt all over. I want it to stop. I want to stop him. I want to end him."

"Well you can't. But you can work to soften him. Use your looks and his interest in you to persuade and influence him."

"But he simply takes..."

"Tease. Offer him what he wants. Grow to understand how he thinks. A clever and beautiful woman may learn to have all the control despite an outward appearance of subservience. Learn to use what you possess as a woman."

May returned, and Rogers carried her gently to the bath. When clean and dry, May applied ointments to the cuts and bruises before her and Rogers bound them.

She was carried back to bed, and felt that another hour of sleep to think things through was exactly what she needed, but try as she might, the pain kept her awake, her ribs in particular giving her trouble.

She sat up in bed and turned to Rogers, seeking to take her mind away from her own troubles.

"What has happened? Why did he have so go so early?"

"Civil unrest. One of the cities on the coast is on fire and the riots are spreading."

"Are we safe here?"

"For now, we are. He has declared martial law in the affected cities and is going to restore order. I would not like to be one of the troublemakers right now."

"What is he going to do?"

"He isn't famed for his mercy, though you know that better than most."

"Yes, of course..."

"It is still very early miss, you had better go back to bed. I'll keep watch, don't worry."

"No, I would prefer to get up. Could you call for May so that I can dress?" May arrived and helped her, with Rogers never leaving her.

"He's had your clothes put up with his so let's go and find you something. Your wrists are much better my dear but still ugly. I have never known the lord so concerned as he was when you panicked like that. What on Earth made you cause trouble this morning, silly girl. Rogers and I are both looking out for you, aren't we lad."

"Yes ma'am." If Rogers outranked May in the hierarchy of the household he certainly didn't act like it. He always acted slightly warily around the tiny old woman.

"When the lord's father bought me oh god knows how many years ago I screamed and fought and was really quite a horror. But I soon learned my place. It is much easier if you accept his will with grace. You are a clever girl." May wittered constantly as she brushed her hair and Aneira found the banality of her chat comforting and homely. She spent a great deal of time telling Rogers off for his poor choice of a girl. Aneira remembered that he had been deep in conversation with a young woman at the party.

"She has no hips, man. A girl you intend to marry must have hips or she'll struggle to manage more than two children." Aneira had never really considered that Rogers had a private life.

"Yes ma'am, but she is slight all over, I'd much prefer that to a woman like that Sophie, however high she might be."

"Hmmm." May was clearly unconvinced, passing her things, commenting on this and that and wondering aloud what would best compliment her eyes.

"I think I'd prefer something plain for today, if at all possible. I am in no mood for bright colour."

"Oh of course dear. I had quite forgotten that he had insisted on taking him with him to that morbid thing last night. Not for young girls' eyes. Not for anybody's eyes really but especially not young girls'. How about this? It is plain and light and modest enough given the circumstances." She held out a silver-grey dress. It was a light silk, almost sheer, and laced at the front from waist to bust. It was closer to what she had worn at home than any of the others.

"That is perfect, thank you."

"He has a good eye, the master does, and knows a good dressmaker and quality fabric when he finds them."

She spent the rest of the day reading in the library, but couldn't help but notice that Rogers was getting more and more uneasy. At one point another man came and spoke to him quietly, handing him a gun which he holstered at his hip.

"It isn't going well is it?"

"No miss, not well. He'll get it under control, he always does, but for now it is a little rough."

"Are we safe here?"

"We are only ten miles from the capital, but we are well guarded. Still, he wants you out of here. We are to head away from it all and wait it out with a relative of his who has a stronghold to the West, in the mountains. Come along, we should leave before the trouble gets any closer."

Two cars were waiting outside and they headed off at speed, joined by half a dozen more soldiers.

"He tried to send a helicopter but there were none that could be spared. We cannot go any more heavily armed or in greater numbers than this or we would be noticed."

"What of the rest of the household?"

"Gone miss. I dismissed them this morning. There is a large garrison still though, large enough that the house will not look deserted and nobody should know that you aren't there."

"What is happening, I mean what is causing it. Is the emperor losing control?"

Rogers snorted. "No, this is just a bit of disquiet. It is hot and there are a decent number of revolutionary types who use a bad mood to cause trouble. It happens every year near enough. Bit worse this one but not the worst it has been."

They couldn't have gone more than a mile before there was an almighty bang that shook the car and it rolled to an unsteady halt.

"Fuck. What the hell was that?" Rogers knocked on the partition that separated them from the driver. "What the hell just happened?"

"Tires went sir, the road is littered with traps."

There were gunshots. The car behind them had stopped and the soldiers were clearly under heavy fire.

"Stay here, get in the footwell. Do not move, do not make a sound." And turning to the driver: "if anyone approaches this car other than me, drive as far and as fast as you can."

Rogers edged out of the car, gun in hand, and closed the door behind him. More gunshots, shouting, chaos that she couldn't quite follow, she kept her head down and prayed.

There was gunfire very close to the car now and she heard a man cry out in pain. The driver swore and started the engine. Better to fuck up the rims than lose the girl - better by far. He had barely managed a few hundred yards before trucks pulled up, blocking the road ahead. He tried to swerve around but bullets shattered the windscreen. Aneira was sure she felt them whizzing over her head. The car veered and left the road at speed. She was thrown around, disoriented, trying only to protect her head. She was a crumpled heap by the time it came to rest, bruised and in a lot of pain, but she didn't think anything was broken. She hoped only that nobody would check the car for survivors.

There was silence. Perhaps she wouldn't be found. She was still for what felt like an hour, her heart rate returning to a more normal tempo, but thought she'd give it a while longer before venturing out. Then the worst happened. The car door was wrenched open and she was seen immediately. A large man pounced on her and dragged her from the car despite her terrified struggling.

"I've found someone alive boys, I've got one." He yelled as he dragged her into the road.

"Hold her still Bert, let's see what you've found."

The man holding her pulled her arms behind her back and pushed cold steel towards her throat.

"I like my women warm and struggling, but I'll cut you if you give me cause." She froze.

"Bert you've done good here. I recognise the bitch - that's his whore, the traitor whore daughter of that king."

"I've never fucked anything royal before. I can't wait to get inside this bitch."

"Well wait a little. We have to move. He'll hear of this before long and bring down more firepower than you can imagine. Tie her hands and put her in the truck."

"No! Stop! I'm no traitor! I hate him. Let me go. I'll help you..." A violent smack to the mouth silenced her.

"Shut it, lying whore. Get her in the truck."

Her hands were bound with rough cord that cut into her already sore wrists and she was thrown unceremoniously into the back of one of the trucks, the second man climbing in after. He was tall and broad with ruddy good looks, but the look of unrestrained lust in his eyes filled her with fear.

"I heard you were something, but thought it was just talk. It wasn't though, was it? You really are something." He ripped her dress away from her chest, letting her boobs fall free of it. "Quite something indeed." He grabbed at her breast with one hand and began lifting her skirts with the other.

"No, no please. Please stop." She struggled away as best she could though her aches, fear and disorientation, but he held her easily.

"And just why would I do that?" His hand had found her cunt and he pushed a finger up inside her. She was dry and it hurt and the casual violation brought a tear to her eye.

"Look at the marks on me, he is a violent man. He hurts me and I hate him. Please, please don't hurt me. I'll help you destroy him. I know things about the house and his security."

"Why should I believe a lying slut? You're going to take cock as long as you live, and I don't suppose that will be very long. We do not take kindly to traitorous whores."

"Please no. I'm not a whore. He forces me. Help me escape him!"

He pulled her dress off entirely and ran his hands all over her before roughly rolling her over onto her front, throwing her over some crates that were strapped down in the back of the truck, ignoring her continuing pleas.

"I don't want to see your traitor face - it spoils the mood." He pushed her face into the rough plastic and wrapped strong fingers around her hip. When she felt him press against her entrance she screamed and struggled and begged for him to stop but he laughed and held her steady, pushing himself inside and fucking her as hard as he could.

This was nothing like how the general took her. He paid no attention to her arousal and simply forced his way inside, it was pure pain. She was almost entirely dry and it felt as if he were ripping her inside, it was agony and there was nothing she could do but cry and scream. He finished inside her and rested for half a minute before pulling out and leaving her alone. She crawled to a corner as soon as she had the strength, trying to hide her nakedness with the scraps of her dress.

"I owe your master a quid for the use of his whore, but I hardly think it was worth that much."

"If he ever finds you he'll put a bullet between your eyes."

"If, whore, if. Until then I'll keep track of my debt to him. You any good at sucking dick?" She gave no response, huddled in her corner away from him. "You'd better learn if not. A good cocksucker has a bit of value. It might keep you live an extra day or two. Every man likes lips on his nob even if it is your whore face. Come here and clean my cock whore. You bled on it. I don't want your cunt blood on my cock. Get here whore."

She remained, attempting to back into the space between boxes. He made his way over to her but the truck gave a jolt and he nearly fell. That was all she needed. She edged into the gap, feeling a little safer. At least less exposed.

"Out you get cunt. Don't make me make you." With all of her remaining strength she kicked a lose box at him, catching him in the knee, sending him reeling and cursing. "You'll pay for that, whore." He spat at her before lunging, seizing her arm. In kicking the box away she had let him get her. She wished she had done this better, been quicker, or stronger, but panic had robbed her of her thoughts, and she doubted she could have evaded the brute for long.

He forced her to her knees, and with her hands tied behind her back there wasn't much she could do from here. He slapped her face, pulling her between his legs as he settled on the edge of a crate. He held her nose to his crotch and she almost wretched from the stink of sweat.

"Suck it, whore, suck it and you'll live to see dawn." The horrible thing was hardening, pressing at her lips, streaked with her blood and his cum. He wiped it on her cheek before slapping her hard with the heel of his hand. "Open up and suck, bitch. It is all you are good for. You are just three holes and a pair of tits. Since your tits are barely a handful, your holes had better be entertaining. Now suck." Still she refused, summoning up all her will to defy him, no sense of self-preservation left, no longer caring about the pain. He slapped again and again and didn't stop until her lips parted in a gasp as it stung.