Page 7 of Good Girl

5

Cadence

Istare up at him in shock, my back pressed hard against a cage. Vin has struck me before, but always with permission and never this hard. He’s never done anything I haven’t explicitly asked for or negotiated. This is so far from our usual script that I’m having trouble comprehending what has actually happened. He can’t have kidnapped me. He just can’t have.

“Vin…” I say as calmly as I can though I’m shaking and my voice is hoarse. “Are we… are we roleplaying?”

The brutal look on his face melts for just a moment as he laughs. My heart sinks. This isn’t a game then. He’s crouched in front of me wearing dark jeans and a black hoodie. The sharp angles of his face are made even more harsh by the dim lighting he’s installed in his basement. I look past his shoulder and the fear settles even deeper into the pit of my stomach. No longer a basement, but a dungeon. I can see his spanking bench, something we’ve used a few times upstairs. There’s also a large St. Andrew’s Cross and a bed that looks like a massage table but has bars along each side. There’s a small cage toward the back of the space, just big enough to fit a large dog. Or a medium-sized woman. And on the wall is a row of implements, some I recognize, many more I don’t. Next to the row of whips and floggers there’s a cabinet.

“No, Cadence, no roleplaying. This is for real.” He reaches for me and I instantly flinch away, trying to scoot to the side. He grabs my hair at the crown and drags me toward him until my ear is pressed against his lips. I cry out as pain slices through my scalp. “New position, new rules.”

“This is stupid, Vin!” I yell, despite the fist in my hair. I’m over this fucking game and ready to get back to real life. He’s being a fucking prick. Doesn’t want to lose his submissive, so he set me up. “It’s time to fucking uncuff me right now!”

His fingers stiffen against my scalp but otherwise he doesn’t react angrily. Instead he pushes me away. I lose my balance and fall onto my side. I twist around and fling my hair back so I can glare up at him. The look on his face is terrifying. Not anger, or frustration. Not a man that’s reached the end of his patience. No, he looks peaceful. Happy. Satisfied. This is exactly where he wants me.

“You’re a fucking psycho!” I scream up at him, struggling to push myself up.

He reaches down and hooks me by the elbow, dragging me off the floor. He lifts me slightly until my feet dangle, showing me his superior strength. I grit my teeth against the pain shooting through my shoulder. Before the gripping pain can become too much he lowers me until my feet touch the floor. He doesn’t give me time to relax though. Instead he drags me through his homemade dungeon toward the spanking bench.

My heart picks up as dread floods my system. Excitement clashes with fear as my conditioning kicks in. Vin had taught me to love the bench. He’s had me bent over the padded seat, sticking my ass in the air and hanging onto the wooden beam on the other side, alternately beating, caressing and massaging me until I’m a puddle of subspace happiness. And though I can feel my pussy flooding with anticipation, logically I know this time will be different. Vin isn’t playing. He’s not following protocol or established rules. He’s laying down a new law.

He pushes me head down over the bench. I yell as my arms strain. He places a heavy hand against my lower back and releases the cuffs. I feel a brief moment of relief as my arms come down, but it’s short-lived. He drags my wrists around to the front of the bench and recuffs them around the wooden beam.

He lifts my chin and forces me to stare into his dark eyes where he’s crouched at my head. “I’m going to beat you until I’m done, Cadence. I’m going to beat the new rules into you.”

I glare at him through the fall of my hair. “Uncuff me and I won’t press charges, asshole.”

“Rule one,” he says standing. His crotch is near my head. I can’t help myself, I peek. His bulge is unmistakable, even under the thick denim fabric. My mouth waters in response. I love blowing him this way, with my body draped over the bench, his hand in my hair and me taking him deep in my throat. “I am now your Master. Not sir, not asshole, not any other nasty thing you can come up with. Not even Vin until you’ve learned some respect.”

He moves away, standing at my side. I tense, waiting for his next move. He grips my blouse at the back of the neck in both hands and tears it open like it’s paper, right down to the waist, baring my entire back. I shout in protest as he completely, carelessly ruins one of my favourite shirts. After he’s finished shredding the blouse, he grips my skirt and yanks it right up to my waist, revealing my ass in nothing but a tiny thong.

“Goddammit, Cadence, thought you were getting fucked tonight, didn’t you? These are some pretty little panties.” He slaps my ass hard enough to make me jump and then walks away.

“Fuck you,” I snarl.

“Maybe if you’re a good girl, but that’ll take some time. Not today, that’s for sure.” He’s standing somewhere behind me where I can’t see him. My arms are stretched far down the front and when I look over, I can only see my shoulder and the wall. I hear him lift something from the tool rack. I wonder what it is. Wonder if he’ll make me guess. Usually when I’m in this position he forces me to guess what he’s using and won’t stop until I either guess or we’ve reached the stroke limit. Somehow I think there won’t be a stroke limit any longer.

“Vin…” I say pleadingly. In this position the only thing I have left are my words. I need to get him to listen. But before I can speak he cuts me off.

“Did you already forget rule one?”

The way he says it, tone dripping in sadistic pleasure, raises goosebumps of fear across my flesh. This man is eager to hit me. To punish me. He wants to see my pain, to revel in it. He’s angry about the date, yes. But there’s something else too. Something I’m missing. My eyes flash around as much of the space as I can see. How long has he been building this dungeon? But before the thought can settle something slices through the air. I tense in fear, not that it helps. Pain radiates through me as leather slaps against the cheek of my ass. I hiss but swallow any further sound. He hasn’t hit me any harder than he has in the past. I think he’s using the riding crop.

The beating continues, the force intensifying as he goes until I know we’re past my usual pain tolerance. Past the point where I would normally beg him to slow down or stop. I don’t utter the words, don’t utter my safeword. I bite my tongue, bite my lips, squeeze my eyes shut. I pray for it to stop. I pray for the tolerance not to cry out before he stops. I can take a lot of pain. Surely I can take this?

He doesn’t stop and I lose count. The pain is so intense I’m having trouble catching my breath. Tears squeeze past my sealed eyelids, trailing down my cheeks and dripping onto the floor. My nose starts to drip too. On a better day I might try to rub the snot off on my shoulder so I’d look prettier when he unfastens me. Today I don’t care, can’t care. There’s nothing inside me except blind focus on the wrenching pain radiating out through my ass.

Finally… finally, after what feels like hours, he stops. The only thing I can hear is my own harsh breathing as I try desperately to contain the tearing sobs. My ass is on fire, but also numb. The parts that aren’t numb feel like they’ve been sliced open and had hot pokers shoved inside the flayed skin.

I know better though. Vin is good at this. He wouldn’t rip into my flesh unless he meant to, and I’m convinced that as much as he wants to punish me right now, he doesn’t want to mark me permanently. Maybe I’m wrong though. Maybe he really is that sadistic. But I have to believe otherwise or I’ll go insane. I’m at his mercy in this hellish basement. If I don’t believe that there’s some shred of decency left in Vin then I’ll fall to pieces.

“I think that was a good enough warm up, don’t you Cadence?” he asks and I can hear his footfalls walking away, back toward the implement rack.

A warm up? We aren’t done? A tiny sob bursts free and I almost beg him to stop. But I know he won’t. He’s determined to carry out this extra harsh punishment. Maybe if he works through it, if I survive, then we’ll be able to talk. Maybe I’ll be able to convince him to free me. Then I’ll run as far and as fast as I can. To the nearest police station, where I’ll have some fan-fucking-tastic bruises to back up my charges. The thought of revenge lights a fire in my veins, almost making the heated pain in my ass worth the beating.

“Now we’ll go over the rules.”

“Fuck you!” I shout with as much venom as I can manage.

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