Page 33 of Caged
My body is weightless with ecstasy, untethered and set free by satiety. I am nowhere and everywhere all at once, and I never want this sensation of unadulterated, unholy bliss to end. Theheaviness of life dissipates, and I remember why I first fell in love with Kieren, my uncut gem.
I remember us.
He set me free, even if he took part of my soul in the process. And now, I want to feel free once more. For him. For this. For us.
13
KIEREN
Seven Months Prior to Present Day,
Early February, Junior Year,
Sigma
Her nipples, still raw and puckered from the clamps, press against the side of my ribcage, and I have to actively resist the urge to roll her onto her back and suck one into my mouth. Getting Monroe cleaned up was a Herculean effort. Even after I removed the wrist restraints, ball gag, nipple clamps, and blindfold, I could not coax her off the floor. Her glassy eyes reminded me of my own during my ketamine days, sophomore year – seeing but not seeing at the same time. She had dissociated almost to the point of unconsciousness, and it made me so goddamn proud to know it was my dick that fucked her into oblivion.
It’s difficult to describe the unbridled need I feel toward Monroe. From the moment I first laid eyes on her at the Sigma return-to-campus barbecue our freshman year, I felt an uncontrollable need to own her. It was as if the Universe hadplanted her at that barbecue specifically for me to find. There she was, standing alone at the edge of the crowd, admiring the trees like a princess in a goddamn Renaissance painting.
Sometimes I forget how perfect she is for me.I did forget.Most men my age aren’t actively practicing hardcore BDSM to the point of owning an entire arsenal of accoutrements. Whether it’s intrinsic to my DNA or the product of having too much alone time as a teenager, I’ve always found the act of controlling someone’s pleasure to be alluring. Once I got into high school, I began to dabble, although at first, finding willing participants was a challenge. But the more entrenched I became with wealthy Manhattan socialites, the more my pool broadened. Those raised in New York City seemed to mature more rapidly than the rest of us. A person who grew up in Manhattan has lived three lifetimes by the time he or she turns eighteen, and in my circles at least, that included sexual experiences. Even so, finding someone who is comfortable with experimentation and finding someone who enjoys pain play are two different quests. Submission is not enough. I want someone who needs this kind of stimulation to find release, because that means they need me.
The first time I pinched Monroe’s clit and felt her spasm around my fingers, unable to control herself, I knew I had found my diamond in the rough. She was so innocent and curious when we were freshmen, ripe for the picking. I claimed her. I trained her to perform to my liking. I molded her into the deviant pain slut she is today, and everything was so fucking perfect until I lost my mind toward the end of our sophomore year, which, admittedly, I knew at some point would happen. You can’t join the most notorious and powerful fraternity on the fucking planet and not expect to lose yourself in the process.
But by then, I had already allowed her into my world. Letting her go was never an option. Mine until the bitter end, if only the bitter end weren’t right around the corner. I can’t marry her. Ican’t even date someone like her in the eyes of my father. Never once while I was home, fixing my father’s mess, did I mention Monroe, and it infuriates me that I was bequeathed such an impeccable gift, only to find out that I couldn’t keep her.
Now her body is curled against mine, asleep, and I can’t quiet the rage festering in my mind. This situation Monroe and I have will get bleaker by the day, although I don’t think she’s aware. How could she be? I haven’t and will never tell her the truth, because if I did, she would abandon me again, and I’m far too ensnared by my obsession with her to let that happen.
Perhaps this obsession should be worrisome, but the problem is, I can’t find it in me to care. Monroe was put on this earthfor me. The way I see it, she is rightfully mine, even if I know there is no future for us after graduation.
But the thought of someone else owning what’s mine, fucking her, claiming her, filling her pussy with their cum… I can’t. The thought makes me want to rip my fucking hair out. I want to cage her for an eternity, locked away from the rest of the world. I want to stroke her silky blonde hair, glide my fingers across her smooth, supple skin, tilt her chin upward so her pleading ocean blue eyes, brimming with unconditional love, can find mine while she kneels obediently at my feet.
My perfect pet.
Mine.
She’s mine, and no one gets to have her other than me.
And herein lies the problem.
What to do?
We graduate in sixteen months, a thought that should feel comforting. Plenty of time to own her, to fuck her, to tie her up and do the most depraved things to her body until she collapses in a pool of her own drool like she did today. And goddamn. Sometimes, I convince myself I need this woman like I need air. I need her so badly, I want to scream. I want to rage. Calling hermine drives me to madness, and I fucking love every second of her insatiable high. I want to inject her into my fucking veins like heroin, because that’s what she is to me, and that truth is a secret I’ll take to the grave.
I can’t graduate and simply end things with her – watch her walk off into the sunset, knowing she’ll eventually end up with someone else.
No.
But I don’t know what to do.
Monroe doesn’t know it yet, but she plays an important part in my plan for Sigma Little Sisters. She’s the ultimate status symbol given her position as president of Delta Gamma, the perfect endorsement to have by my side. It might take convincing, but she’ll partake in the process. Of course, this means I’ll have to tell her about said plan. Well, not all of it – only the parts she needs to know. She’s already asked about my grandfather’s ring so many times that it’s starting to get fucking annoying, so these scraps of information should satiate her curiosity.
I just have to make it through the next four months, get to summer break, then I’ll be able to think clearly about what to do with Monroe without the noise of my father and this nefarious X character breathing down my fucking neck. If anyone can pull this off, it’s me. I was made to play this part, and as long as Monroe complies, we’ll be the picture-perfect example.
The king and his queen, leading the sheep to slaughter.
14
GABI
