Page 3 of Prelude to Madness

I was clean now, though. Or so I thought. My memory was fuzzy where that was concerned, and I didn’t understand why.

Rick!

His Highness picked up the pace, and as I watched, I increased the tempo of my music, matching him stroke for stroke.

I was mesmerised by him, the taut muscles in his arse clenching with each thrust. His long blond hair was wet with sweat running in rivulets down his back. He grunted, impaling the man on his long cock. He yelled, and his movements faltered as he shot his load.

As His Highness pulled out, the young man cried out, his arse dripping with cum tinged with the telltale sign of blood. I got a closer look at the cock that had done that to him, startled at its size. I’d seen some dicks in my time, but never one that big. Not just its length but girth too.

His Highness climbed off the bed, leaving the young man writhing in agony, or was it ecstasy? Honestly? It was hard to tell.

The man crawled to the top of the bed and curled in on himself, trying to make himself as small as possible. I wasn’t sure I would have done anything differently.

I continued to play, uncertain if I should stop, but the style of my music changed to a more melancholy theme, suited to the mood of the room.

His Highness stood off to the side, legs wide and his arms outstretched. My captor knelt before him, washing him down with a silken cloth, removing all evidence of his encounter.

Amazement replaced my disgust at what he’d done as once again his cock rose to attention. How the fuck? It’d take almost every man I knew a lot longer than that to recover, but here he was, his massive prick looking like it was more than ready to go again.

He glanced over at me, a wicked grin on his face. Was it my turn? Did he want to do that to me? While part of me was terrified, another part of me was intrigued. What would it feel like to have that inside of me.

“Play on,” he said. “Music is the food of love, or so Mr Shakespeare said.”

Not wishing to suffer his wrath, I continued and watched in awe as he took the other man, holding him upright, his front plastered to the back of his partner. The man was too high to notice anything and grinned as His Highness wrecked his hole. He lasted a little longer this time, but not by much. I’d barely got to the end of my next piece before he howled again, falling forward and slumping over the back of the young man.

Neither of them moved, both spent from their exertion.

“You, out. Now!” The lid of the piano slammed down, grazing my fingers. I sat, drawn to the still body of the young man lying on the bed, facing me. His Highness was now lounging on a sofa on the other side of the room, a lit cigar between his fingers.

The young man stared without blinking, and he wasn’t breathing either. No telltale rise and fall, just an unnerving stillness.

“Let’s go, princess.” I followed my captor, eager to be out of the bedroom, visions of the dead man in my head. Hopefully, all he ever wanted me to do was play the piano.

Back in my cage, shackled and hungry, a feeling of nausea and dread hung over me like fog, clinging to me, suffocating me.

Rick? Are you in there?

Who the fuck was Rick, and why was I hearing this voice?

Unsure of how much time had passed, I lay down in my cage and pulled the threadbare cloth over me, trying to dispel the chill that had seeped into my bones. Sleep claimed me within minutes, my dreams disturbed by the events of the day.

I needed out, but I had to think of a way to do that without losing my life in the process.

Eric

Several days had passed since they had taken me to His Highness’s bedroom. Days where I’d lain awake, thinking about what I’d seen. I wondered, not for the first time, what had happened to the young man. Was he dead?

He sure had looked that way. I suspected a drug overdose but had no way of knowing for definite. It’d been a while since I’d seen anyone so far under.

My captor had taken the other occupants of the cages one by one. Several didn’t come back. Had they had met the same fate. Were they too lost to the ravages of cocaine, smack, or whatever it was they ingested or injected?

On the fourth day, my captor stopped by my cage, and I was more than eager to talk to him. I did as he asked with no arguments or sass, desperate for news. He released me from the cage and walked away, beckoning me to follow him.

“Those men, the ones from before. What happened to them?”

“None of your business, princess. You do as you’re told and don’t ask questions. Life will be much easier for you.”

Like it was easy living in a cage five feet square. I quickened my pace, staying as close to him as I could.

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