Caged by Carolyn Faulkner Read Free Book Online Page A

first wish, she went for her second and retrieved her clothing, donning it with a strange sense of loss, somehow, as if she was giving up some sort of freedom she’d never known she’d craved.
    Gathering the last of the rope that hadn’t been cut by her, she did what she knew she had to do and bound his wrists to the bed, wishing she had enough rope to do his ankles, also.
    Then she set about assessing his wound and cleaning it again.  At this rate, she was going to need to go down to the river and do a wash; she was going through what little extra materials she had in order to form makeshift bandages for him.  The deep insult to his flesh wasn’t looking infected, thank God, but it certainly was red and still seeping blood.  She cleaned it out again and got a fresh bandage pressed to it and held there by the same strips of cloth, only moved to cleaner spots because she had nothing else that she could replace them with.
    He remained frighteningly still for a very long time, the rest of the day and into the night.  Instead of climbing into the bed to sleep where she had beside him, she remained in the one and only chair she owned, a relatively comfy rocker she had designed and built herself.  The fire kept her warm and she nibbled on a bit of the cheese she’d kept in the cooling hole.
    “Let me the fuck up!”
    He wasn’t just yelling; he was spitting with rage.
    “C’mon, let me up!  I have to take a piss!  I bet you didn’t think about that when you tied me up, did you, Mrs. Hemmingway,” he taunted, saying her name in a way that let her know he highly doubted she deserved the title.
    How could he have been so nice to her last night—relatively, anyway—and be such a bully now?
    A bully that was, unfortunately, all too correct.  She hadn’t thought about contingencies like that. 
    Rachel brought the pail over to him and he looked at her as if she had three heads.  “How the hell am I supposed to pee into a pail when I can’t lean over to do so?  If I pee now, I’m going to end up swimming in it.”
    And she did not want urine on her bedspread any more than she wanted the manure that he had already left.
    But that would mean she would have to untie him.
    “You could do the aiming for me,” he suggested.  “You’re a married woman.  Surely it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve handled a man’s cock.”
    He watched her reaction to what he was saying very carefully, and it was quite revealing.  She was practically squirming with revulsion at the idea.  She either had never even seen a cock up close or at all—or, remembering how scared she had been last night, perhaps someone had somehow scared her about them, if not her vaunted Mr. H. then maybe her mother . . .
    Rachel couldn’t believe that she was considering either possibility, and she really couldn’t decide which was worse.
    Cage sighed, barely able to believe that he was going to say what he was going to say.  “Why don’t you undo one of my hands?  Then I can roll towards the edge of the bed and pee, and then you can tie me up again.”
    She might have been young and fairly inexperienced in the ways of the world, but she tried not too be too naïve, although she wasn’t always successful at it.  “Right.  Like you’re going to docilely allow me to bind you again.”
    His eyes narrowed as if he’d just noticed something and he didn’t answer her directly.  “You put your clothes back on.”
    She blushed prettily, and he felt his dick rising against the buttons of his pants. 
    “It seems that I need to recover enough to sleep rather than become unconscious.  You’ve developed the bad habit of tying me up whenever I’m too out to notice—and then you add insult to injury and rob me of the sight of your beautiful body.”
    “You mustn’t say things like that to me, Mr.–Mr.–” It surprised her to realize that she had no idea what his name was.
    “Call me Cage.”  At her puzzled look, he explained, “An