Things Will Only Worsen
“Are you comfortable in your cage, my love?” Tender words weighted with ironic scorn.
“No,” his voice a ragged whisper. His screams had stressed his vocal cords.
“That is too bad. My sweet one, you will live behinds its bars for some time.”
“Do you want to argue with me? Are you hungry for my whip?”
“Please, I’m sorry. Please don’t hit me again.”
“You are such a tender fool. I’ll whip you daily. How lucky you are my arms are tired. You must be punished.”
“I’ll be good, I promise.”
“A wise decision. But good behavior cannot save you. You are male. That is crime enough.”
“Speechless? Good. Weeks in the cage – unless you need months – will train you for your new life.”
“As my slave. You said you would do anything to win my love. When I called you my slave, did you refuse the title.”
“No but …”
“You thought it was a metaphor. Just as you thought flirtatious smiles were promises. They were bait. Your ‘love’ – which is just fancy talk about your penis – put you in my power. Now that you are mine, I will keep you.”
He sighed, too exhausted to argue. Whatever he said would provoke only mockery.
“That was a fib. I will keep you until you bore me. After that? Let it be a surprise.
“For now, my love, cages and whips – chains and shackles – are enough.
“There are so many games. You will learn them all.
“Pitiful thing, you’re so sad. You should relax. It’s only going to get worse.
“And continue to worsen for a long time to come.”