* * *
Nayla Bell
It must have been his bedroom. It was the only thing that would explain why a large king-size bed, mahogany dressers, full-length mirror, another oriental rug like the ones downstairs, and a brown leather chair by a small table and lamp were in this room. If I didn’t remind myself that I was underneath the Jumping Jack Power Plant, I would have no idea and mistake this room as one belonging inside a mansion or some rich Manhattan penthouse.
My eyes darted to the bed, and my breath hitched.
Oh, God, was he going to take me against my will?
Was he going to tie me to his bed and have his way with me?
I couldn’t have made my feet move even if I wanted to. There was no way my inner soul would allow me to step across the threshold on my own free will. There was no way at all. So, I stood in place and willed my knees not to buckle.
“I’m not going to fuck you, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he said, pulling me into the room with a hard tug. “I have something else in mind for you.”
I stumbled inside and would have fallen if it weren’t for Eddie reaching out and steadying me. My head spun, and I didn’t know if I wanted to scream, curse him out, cry, plead for mercy, or simply break into a million pieces never to recover again.
“What do you plan on doing with us?” I somehow asked.
“Well…” he began as he led me to the far side of the room. There were no windows on the walls due to how low this secret bunker was, but there was a very large skylight high above us where the last of the day’s light was pouring in. “You’ve been working effortlessly night and day to put me in a cage for the rest of my life.”
I froze when I saw what was before me.
“And since you want to put me in a cage so badly…” He walked over to the large metal cage against the wall on the other side of his bed. “It seems fitting that I put you in a cage instead.”
I wouldn’t have been able to speak even if I had anything other than futilely begging for mercy to say. The steel cage was about waist high, and about six feet long. It was something that would kennel a large breed dog of some sort. The door had a padlock on it, and nothing else inside.
“Get in,” Eddie demanded.
“You can’t be serious,” I said as the reality of my situation knocked the air out of me.
“Now,” Eddie said. He accentuated the ‘now’ with a severe slap to my bare ass that had me squealing out in surprise and in pain.
I still remained frozen. Not out of defiance but out of paralyzing shock. Eddie, however, must have read my lack of movement as the former. Without warning, Eddie picked me up under the arms and walked the couple of feet to the edge of his bed. He then folded my body over and pressed my upper torso against the mattress. I could hear the swish of his belt again being removed from his pants.
“No,” I said. “No.”
I tried to stand up, but he held me firmly with one hand. I then tried to reach back to protect my backside from another whipping, but Eddie snatched both my wrists and pinned them at my lower back. Sadly for me, it only took one of his hands for him to be able to do this, so the other one was free to wield the belt again.
I pressed my face into the mattress, which muffled my howl when he brought the leather down on my still-sensitive flesh. The fiery lick was enough to break any of my pride that was still present.
So I would beg.
“Please. I’m sorry! You don’t have to do this! I’ll get in the cage. I’ll get in!”
“I don’t repeat myself, Miss Bell. It’s best you learn this now,” he said as he continued to spank me with the belt.
It didn’t seem like he was bringing the leather down on my butt as hard as he had done outside on the hood of the car, but my skin still ached from the earlier discipline, so every crack of the belt on my upturned bottom had me crying out. Thankfully, the punishment didn’t last long. As I lay on the bed—not daring to do a thing without his permission—I could hear him place his belt back on and buckle it. It terrified me that he would spank my pussy once more and then fuck me with his finger. I didn’t want the shame of that again, and almost would prefer a beating like Dylan received rather than the humiliation of Eddie knowing that once again my body reacted to his heavy hand.