She hesitated. Legs unsteady.
I slapped her ass. "Don't make me say it again."
She dropped. Crawled. Dragged herself into the cage on trembling limbs.
Perfect.
I shut the door. Locked it.
"You'll sleep there tonight," I declared in a soft voice.
"Okay daddy," she replied.
Then I walked away, leaving her ruined, owned, and exactly where she belonged.
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Caged Bird III
If someone had told her she'd ever willingly stay in a cage for eight hours, Leila would've laughed in their face. If they'd taken it a step further and said she'd actually enjoy it—she would've torn out their tongue and force-fed it to them. Facto.
Yet here she was, awake inside a steel cage with soft velvet padding beneath her and a sense of... peace?
She'd slept. Slept deep.
Not the toss-and-turn, stress-induced micro-naps she'd gotten used to. This was the kind of sleep that came after complete submission. Bone-deep, soul-emptying, post-orgasmic sleep. No nightmares. No wandering thoughts. Just stillness.
The darkly lit room with red lighting made it impossible for her to tell what time it was. She suspected it was morning. Still, with no window, no sound, and no clue if Makros was even in the house, time dragged like a punishment. She sat still in the cage for what felt like hours.
"Ugh," she whispered to herself. "Get it together, Leila."
The room was quiet. Too quiet. She began to wonder how much longer she'd stay in the cage? Abandoned like a used toy in this shrine of lust.
"Does anyone else even know about this room?" The thought invaded her mind, but it was completely reasonable and fair. The place had felt too sacred, too private.
Her paranoia heightened when the realization of how deeply trapped she was settled deep in her chest. She could be inhere and die and not a single soul in the world would know of her whereabouts. And something told her Sofia, Andreas, Konstantinos, Nicolai or any of the house staff didn't have access here.
Her stomach grumbled but it was more from the paranoia she was feeling than hunger. And just as she debated whether to scream or attempt a desperate escape, the door creaked open.
Like a caged dog, she instantly gripped the bars and leaned forward.
The light silhouetted a tall figure, unseeable at first through the haze of red, but her body knew before her eyes did.
"Morning, pet," Makros sang.
Pet, Redhead.
Yep, that one was going to stick.
"Morning," she responded, her tone sounding casually dry. Oddly, it was the first actual proper greeting they'd exchanged. And somehow, it felt oddly intimate.
Makros stepped further into the room, his movements measured. "How did you enjoy sleeping in your cage?"
"I slept, that's all that mattered," she answered. "Now let me out."
Who did she think she was talking to? There was no way it could've been him, Makros thought.
He didn't reach for the lock right away. Instead, he cocked his head, studying her, deciding whether he should release her or give her more time.
