For My Own Good

       Justine Elyot

      ‘This is really what you want?’

      I suppose the question had to be asked, but the posing of it made me doubt myself for a moment. Was it? Really?

      I looked at the cage in the corner of the room. It was such an elegant thing, the bars highly polished and shining, the interior decorated in a style best described as ‘harem luxe’. I had seen this cage in my dreams.

      His hands were on my shoulders and I nuzzled his knuckles with my cheeks.

      ‘You know it’s for my own good,’ I told him. ‘I’m not safe on the streets.’

      A soft laugh came from above.

      ‘That’s true enough. Well, then. If you’re sure.’

      He took my arm and led me over to the open gate.

      Before I could crawl in, there were some formalities to be observed. First, the blindfold, then the handcuffs.

      I entered the cage on my knees, shuffling forward into a world of velvets and silks that was all dark to me, my fingers twisting behind my back. I reached what felt like a central area and sat down, my knees drawn up to my chin, waiting.

      I heard the cage door slam, a key turned, some bolts slid across.

      Then I heard footsteps, retreating, the soft click of the door beyond.

      I was alone. Have I mentioned that I was naked?

      Now was my chance to soak into my role. I had been taken. Not kidnapped, not arrested, not even abducted but taken, spirited out of my life in a bid to save me from some worse fate. The point of this captivity, the thing that excited me the most about it, was that it was being done in the name of love and protection.

      After a while, who knows how long, I lay down on my side. The room temperature was warm but my nipples felt engorged anyway, perhaps with anticipation. I tried to become the girl taken from the streets by an unseen captor, the helpless, heedless creature meant for enslavement, if only she knew it.

      By the time the door opened again, I was there, in the space I’d craved, ready to inhabit it fully.

      ‘Who are you? Where is this?’ My voice sounded lost and foolish in the dark. I sat up and hugged my arms around me, facing the direction of the footsteps.

      ‘I thought you might be hungry. Come over to me.’

      I recognised the speaker. It was someone I was supposed to fear.

      ‘Oh, it’s you! What have you done with me? You’d better let me go or …’

      ‘Sh. Come over to me.’

      ‘I don’t want to.’

      ‘Come over here or I’ll make you. It wouldn’t be difficult. And I have food.’

      My stomach was empty, it was true. After a moment’s hesitation, I capitulated and moved in the direction of his voice.

      ‘Why are you doing this?’ My nipples reached the bars first, brushing the cold steel, which did nothing to reduce their size.

      ‘You’ll understand, in time.’

      ‘I want to understand now.’

      ‘Patience,’ he said.

      I heard a spoon scrape against china, then the tip of the metal touched my lower lip. I smelled porridge, milky with perhaps a sprinkling of sugar. I opened my mouth, irritated by my own obedience, but wanting to taste and swallow and banish the nagging emptiness from my stomach.

      He pushed the spoon inside my mouth and waited for me to lick off the last remnants of porridge before removing it.

      ‘That’s it,’ he said softly. ‘It’s good for you. Eat it up.’

      He continued to feed me until I felt enough strength to resist him and I stopped opening my mouth.

      ‘No, finish it,’ he reproved, trying to force the curved metal between my teeth.

      I shook my head, turned my face away.

      ‘Oh, Phoebe, you will make me come in there. You don’t want that.’

      Actually, I did want that, and I supposed he knew it, but I was enjoying the pleasurable tension too much to break it just yet.

      ‘What’s it to you if I leave some porridge?’

      ‘It’s a great deal to me. For one thing, I need you in good health. For another, you must learn to be obedient or this is going to be very hard for you.’

      ‘What is? What is this?’

      ‘You only need to know that you are here for your own safety and protection. More than that, I probably shouldn’t say.’

      ‘You certainly should. It’s my life! I deserve an explanation.’

      ‘Eat your porridge and perhaps I’ll give you one.’

      I sighed and let him feed me once more.

      ‘Well?’ I said, once the final morsel was dispatched.

      ‘I only said perhaps.’

      ‘Fuck you!’

      He heaved a sigh.