[Sasha Girl]

Originally posted as "Caged" on another site. I recommend reading this, if you are reading "Betrayed". It was my most popular story, with more than 30,000 views in just a few short months.

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The night was cold and stormy and the underground shelter in which the girl was caged was isolated. There would be no one passing by any time soon and if they did they were unlikely to spot the carefully hidden entrance. The girl’s host had made sure of that when he started work on the dwelling months ago. He did not rush it and he spared no expense either. With his wealth he could afford to be extravagant and as a result the large concrete room was fitted out with an impressive array of equipment. Besides the furniture included for his comfort, there was a St Andrews cross and a stretch table and a rotating wheel that he could tie his victim to. From the ceiling there hung a proper industrial strength winch and in the floor there was a deep hole in which an entire person could be stowed away securely. Then of course there was the cage. The size of a large dog kennel, its thick wide spaced bars were strong enough to contain a wolf, let alone a slender young woman. Leaning against the wall watching her, the man reflected on all this with dark satisfaction. She was his at last and there was nothing she could say or do to change that. His rules were simple: once you agreed to become his captive, the only way out was on foot. That was one of the reasons he had chosen such a remote location for the dungeon. The mountains were a harsh place for a lone naked woman and she would be naked for sure, because he had burned all her clothes the day he brought her there.
Right before he locked her inside the cage.

The poor little thing did not know it yet, because she had passed out along the way from exhaustion and whatever it was she had consumed… She would find out soon enough though, and the thought made him smile. Tired as he was, he would not rest without seeing the look on her face when she woke up. Idly he wondered if she would scream. It would not make any difference of course, except that he liked hearing women scream.

He was a sadist, after all.

*******

Natasha had never felt so groggy. Her consciousness was tenuous at best when she first began to emerge from her alcohol-induced stupor and for a long time she was content to lie perfectly still, while attempting to gather her thoughts. The process was slow because she was worn out from all the partying she did the night before. It had started as all rave parties did: with raucous laughter and way too much vodka, that always got people’s tongues wagging. The subject had quickly turned to sex and it was then that she told a group of almost perfect strangers about her secret fantasy: of being tied up and dominated and maybe hurt as well. Whereupon one of the girls came up to her and said:
“There is someone here I think you should meet.”

Natasha's limbs twitched as she relived her first meeting with the mysterious stranger the girl introduced her to. The moment she laid eyes on him she had found him attractive – irresistibly so. He was tall and very muscular and his hair was cropped short like a soldier's. But it was his eyes that truly grabbed her attention. Pale blue and almost glowing in the darkness, they reminded her of the eyes of a wolf. He watched her just like a wolf, too. As though deciding whether to shake her hand or have her for dinner that night. Natasha found his aloof self-confidence intoxicating. It made it difficult to say more than two words to him, so in the end it was the girl that introduced them who did most of the talking. Natasha did not hear most of what was said, but she saw the mystery man gazing at her with ever increasing interest.

When at the end he came up to her and asked if she would like to take part in a game – a game that he would be hosting – she could not resist the raw sexual energy he exuded. She said yes and he took her hand and kissed it.

“I will be seeing you again soon,” he promised and then he turned and left her with her new found friends. Natasha wished he had warned her not to take anything they offered, because her night sure took a turn for the worse after that point. As a matter of fact, she did not remember who took her home at the end of the night – or even if she made it home.

It was at this point that Natasha finally decided to try and wake up properly. Trembling with effort, she moved one leg experimentally. She was lying on her side on the floor and her hips rolled easily so that she sprawled on her back. As her bare skin registered cold concrete, Natasha’s eyes flew open and she saw the bars of the cage for the first time. She opened her mouth and screamed.

“Mmm... such sweet music,” the man said, laughing. He did not move from where he stood, but enjoyed the show from a distance. Smugly superior. In control. A predator toying with his prey.

Natasha heard the deep male voice and recognised it instantly as the man from the party. It gave her cause to pause and turn her head toward him. He was dressed all in black, looking even more attractive than she remembered, and for a brief moment she stared at him in silence. But then awareness of her naked and vulnerable position took over and she started whimpering softly. Watching her cry, the man thought how beautiful she looked and how much like a beast. It fuelled his desire, so that he moved toward the cage.

Seeing the man approach caused Natasha’s fear to rise sharply. With a frightened scream she scrambled to her hands and knees and backed away from him. She was pressed against the bars of the cage as far away as she could get, when he came and squatted before her. It was not far enough. He let her scream for a few seconds longer before reaching casually inside and grabbing her by the hair. In a single brutal move, he pulled her toward him until her head struck the bars. Then he started speaking to her. Quietly. Calmly. The way he did when he first met her.

“Hello Natasha,” the man said, “I’m so glad to see you awake. I was beginning to get worried.”

His tone suggested nothing of a sort, but she did not dare contradict him. He kept hold of her hair, pressing her face firmly against the bars, and she moaned quietly as she felt the cold metal dig into her cheek. The sound seemed to please him, because he reached inside the cage and began to stroke her face with his free hand.

“My little girl,” the man went on. “Tell me, how are you feeling?”

Natasha’s heart skipped a beat. The way he was talking to her… it was demeaning in the extreme, yet she found it strangely arousing. Blushing wildly, she did her best to ignore him, until he pulled her head back, forcing her to look at him.

“I said: how are you feeling?” he repeated patiently.

“I… I'm hurting,” she mumbled. Her captor reached in with his free hand and resumed the gentle stroking of her face.

“And where are you hurting exactly?” he said, running his thumb over her lower lip.

“Mmm...” she began and he moved his thumb away to allow her to speak. “Everywhere.”

It was a truthful answer and it made the man laugh.

“How unfortunate,” he said, adding: “I guess I should’ve warned you not to take anything at that party… Still, as long as you remember agreeing to come here that’s all that matters. You do remember don’t you?”

Natasha felt sick all of a sudden. Averting her gaze, she swallowed hard and said: “I… You never said anything about a cage.”

Still keeping her gaze averted, Natasha felt the man's hot breath on her cheek as he replied, simply: “You never asked.”

His voice was silky smooth in her ear, but for all that it sent shivers down her spine. Robbed of speaking ability for the moment, she closed her eyes, allowing him to continue uninterrupted:

“Here’s how it is, Natasha. You’ve agreed to take part in a game… only it’s not really a game because you can’t back out until my say so. For all intensive purposes, you’re my prisoner now… but hey, it’s what you’ve always fantasized about, right?”

By the time he had finished speaking, Natasha was shivering violently all over.
“No, please…” she whimpered. In response, he took hold of her chin and tilted her face upward.

“Look at me,” he said, with such calm authority that she found herself obeying without question.

“Poor little girl,” the man said, staring her in the eye. “You’re about to get raped. You know that don’t you?”

Natasha gasped. As attracted as she was to the handsome stranger, she was upset at the way he just came out and said it. Like she had no choice in the matter.

“Please, don’t…” she pleaded in a shaky voice. She hated herself for begging, but she could not help it. Then she remembered something. A piece of information she ought to have and yet, did not.

“W... what is your name?” she asked, quietly. She stared into his eyes trying to see into his soul. His look was as cold as ice as he leaned in close and said:

“You may call me Gabriel.”