Page 39 of Caged
“Repeat after me: I swear my soul to Sigma.”
“I swear my soul to Sigma.”
This time, it’s not just the women who repeat the chant, but the men too. I’m unsure if I’m meant to do so as well, but I don’t move my lips. Instead, I bow my head, praying my disobedience goes unnoticed.
“The spilling of Sigma’s secrets is punishable by death.”
“The spilling of Sigma’s secrets is punishable by death.”
“A death which I will gladly accept should I prove disloyal.”
“A death which I will gladly accept should I prove disloyal.”
“Should I be called upon in the name of Moloch, I offer my soul as sacrifice.”
“Should I be called upon in the name of Moloch, I offer my soul as sacrifice.”
My lips quiver, my hands have gone clammy because what in the actual cult have I unknowingly joined? Not a single peep of dissent.
“Congratulations, initiates, for you are no longer Sinners in the eyes of Sigma, and later tonight, after you receive your brand, you shall from now on be known as Sigma Little Sisters, binding your soul to the Brotherhood.”
Kieren pauses and then shouts, “Let the Ceremony begin!”
Trap music fills the space, a jarring contrast to Kieren’s broadcast. Women are helped to their feet. Wrists are unhooked, but the cuffs remain, as do the lace masks. Men and women mingle, some lounge on furniture around the room, and some sit on pillows strewn across the floor. Cups begin circulating with what I assume is alcohol. I make the mistake of glancing to my right and see a masked brother standing against the wall while a woman kneels at his feet. Another masked brother kneels behind the woman, stroking the woman’s ribcage as she unzips the standing man’s pants. My eyes flare wide when I see his cock spring free. The woman grasps the base of his shaft whileshe licks and sucks at his tip. The man’s head tilts backward, and I can hear his moans even from where I’m stationed. The man kneeling behind the woman now fondles her breast with one hand and fingers her pussy with the other. She rocks into his fingers, releasing moans of her own, as she deep-throats the cock in her mouth.
Heat spears my core at the sight, but I remain kneeling because, honestly, I don’t know what else to do. My initial shock has subsided, and now I’m flooded with self-consciousness. I’m a voyeur watching an orgy unfold, and I have to mentally shoo away my traitorous fingers every few seconds because they keep drifting toward my center.
“Puppy,” Kieren says, keeping his voice at a volume only I can hear. “Come sit on my lap.”
My body feels fuzzy as I stand. My legs tingle with dissipating numbness.
I sit at an angle as Kieren wraps his arms around my waist, and I lean into him, fighting the urge to curl against his chest like a child. His dress pants are tented with the beginnings of an erection, and I have an overwhelming urge to unzip them. His right hand slides effortlessly under the leather triangle of my bra, and he begins to knead my right breast, stroking and squeezing and twisting my nipple between his fingers. I arch into the heightened stimulation and almost don’t notice his other hand pushing past the elastic band of the thong. Thick fingers tease at my clit before dipping inside.
“You’re soaked, puppy.” The first two pumps of his fingers are reserved, but that doesn’t last. I writhe against him as he buries his fingers to the knuckle.
“You’re so fucking turned on by this, aren’t you?”
His right hand greedily slides across my chest, and in the process, exposes both breasts. The triangle top might as well be on the floor, but I suppose that was the point.
“Turn around and fuck me,” he growls through his mask, removing his fingers from my pussy. The unexpected and immediate absence of pressure almost brings me to tears.
A momentary flicker of hesitation passes through my consciousness. Am I really doing this? I guess so.
I climb around to face him and shamelessly tear his zipper apart. It takes effort to pull his boxer briefs over his fully erect penis, but at last, I have him freed. Using the head of his cock, I push my thong aside and once it’s aligned with my entrance, I sink down on his length, and goddamn… nothing has ever felt so good. I pant unabashedly as I grind myself against him until I feel the firm resistance of his pubic bone against my clit. The teeth of the zipper scratch the insides of my thighs in a way that feels strangely good. If I could feel my quads, which I can’t, I’m sure they would be on fire with the amount of bouncing I’m doing.
Is this why people caution against having sex on ecstasy – because nothing will ever feel as euphoric again? I don’t even have the benefit of the clamps or our usual pain play to heighten my pleasure. But in this moment, I don’t need them. I want to savor this feeling. I want to remember how good the veins of his dick feel as they glide against my walls, because I can fucking feel each and every one of them. The overwhelming urge to cry surges behind my eyes, and more than anything else, I need to kiss him.
I can’t bear to look at the sight of Kieren’s demonic mask. It feels wrong. I try to lift it, but he shakes his head.
“Please kiss me. Please.” My words sound more like a sob than a beg.
“Please,” I ask again. I hear my voice growing desperate as if I’m having an out-of-body experience, and I physically feel my heart start to break. I might have started crying. I don’t know. But as soon as I see Kieren slide his mask back, exposing thebottom half of his face, my lips crash against his. I kiss him with more hunger and desire than I’ve ever felt before. I cup his face as best I can despite the interference from both our masks, and relish in the heat of his skin, damp and sticky with sweat. The pad of my thumb skims over his slim silver nose ring and brushes along the ridge of his cheekbone. I want to memorize the feel of his face in this moment. His tongue fills my mouth, and this taste alone could satiate me for a thousand years. The swirl of bodies around us blurs until it’s only me and Kieren, cocooned in a vortex of blood red clouds, and I crest with the beginnings of an orgasm.
I mean to tell Kieren that I’m going to come, but when I open my mouth, something completely different tumbles out.
“I love you.”
My core tightens, and my orgasm builds to that sinfully delicious tipping point of inexplicable pleasure. I grind against him, harder and harder, reaching for his hand, fumbling with his fingers, pressing two firm against my clit as the room spins faster.
