A βG O L D E N βC A G E . . .ββ βββββββββββ βββββββββ
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ββββ ββββββββββββββββββ. . . I S βS T I L L βA βC A G E
βββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββa roleplay by reverie. β& βkeith logan
β β C O N T A I N S βN S F W βE L E M E N T Sβ β βββββββ
For three months, Elena had been a free woman. And she had savored every fucking second of it.
After seven years she had finally made it out. It hadn't been easyβit should have been impossibleβbut no one had come after her. Elena assumed Roan had let her go. She should have known better. Roan wouldn't let one of his most precious pets escape his clutches so easily. No, he'd been playing with her all this time. Playing a game she was bound to lose.
He'd sent Dane to collect her, threatening to hurt him again if she didn't return willingly, knowing all too well that she wouldn't have any other choice but to obey. She truly hated him. To think that this manβthis monsterβwas the same man who had pulled her out of the gutter. The same man who had saved her life. She owed him her life, she knew that. He most certainly knew it. He used it against her every chance he got. And then there was Daneβthe boy who had found her that day in the gutter, half-drowned, half-starved. The boy who had run off to get Roan. The boy who had grown into the man she now considered her older brother. She might have left him behind all these months, but she would take a bullet for him. Sometimes she wondered if Roan kept him around for the sole purpose of using him as leverage.
On the journey back, they hadn't spoken much. Dane had caught her up to speed, informing her of Roan's bad mood and about Morgan's recent death. Elena knew there was something he wasn't telling her, but she wasn't stupid. If Morgan was dead, Roan was out for revenge. And who was he going to use to get it? Her. It wasn't a fucking coincidence that he suddenly decided to collect her. Whenever Roan needed someone to pay the price of crossing him or messing with him, he sent her in first to lay the foundationβto slip a sedative in their drink that paralyzes the victim or inject it into their system with a syringe. Just so he could take his time tearing them apart afterward. It was a standard procedure, one Elena despised being a part of regardless of their crimes. Roan might have saved her life that day, but he'd given her a life she never wanted. A life she'd been trying to escape ever since. She'd been seventeen when he found her, now she was twenty-four. God knew how many years she had left to liveβto serve. Her debt would never be paid. Not even by a hundred slaves. Not that she'd sacrifice so many lives for freedom, but it would have been nice to know there was a way out. Even if she wouldn't take it.
Dane didn't give her any time to restβor even prepareβwhen they arrived at the mansion, convincing her that the longer they kept Roan waiting, the worse his mood would get. Elena couldn't argue with that logic. She didn't know what was waiting for her, but she knew it wasn't anything good.
And she was right.
As soon as she stepped into Roan's ridiculously large office, she noticed the empty cage next to his desk. That had not been there the last time she was there, and as far as she knew, Roan didn't have a dog. She couldn't remember seeing one on their way up here either. No. Her pulse quickened as the thought struck her. What if it was for her? Her stomach turned. Roan wasn't that mad at her. . . was he? Elena prayed she was wrong.
Dane's voice brought her back to reality, "Here she is, Sir."
Elena forced her gaze away from the cage to meet Roan's. She still stood in the middle of the room, a safe distance separating them. "Yes, Sir," she said dryly. "Here I am. Forever at your service, eh?"
She offered him a mocking curtsy and one of her signature smilesβthe one that was fake as hell.
In the year 2295, the poor-rich divide had gotten so unbearably out of hand for the greater plebian mass, that factions beyond the great central district started forming alliances, as they could no longer tolerate the derelict environment and tragic living conditions that were forced upon them - all because of the greed and hoarding mentality of some minority elites. For far too long, they had been sat in the comforts of their ivory tower. Complacency set in over the decades, and it did not occur to them that the numbers of the suppressed were growing larger and larger by the years. The final straw came, when it was rumoured that the elites intended to roll out an initiative to utilise smart bots to reinforce their increasingly disproportionate numbers against the greater mass, in hopes of quelling any possible uprising threat from the people that slogged for them - the same people who were supposed to construct their bots for the so called elites, only to be used against themselves.
The plebians were wise enough to stand against such an initiative, which would essentially be the proverbial death of them. In the face of such threats to their livelihood, leaders amongst the grassroot emerged. Roan Wilkinson was one of such leading revolutionist. He had build up an underground empire that thrived beneath the shadows for close to a decade prior. It was in 2298, when Roan first found seventeen year old Elena Reeves through the unfortunate encounter with Dane. Elena later went on to prove to be incredibly instrumental to his eventual success. By the year 2301, the elites were finally brought to their knees by Roan and the alliance, consisting of six other mafia overlords. Their rich metropolis plundered and razed to the ground, as the force of the common people proved too much for the rich minorities to handle, right before they could roll out their robo-army initiative, which would have no doubt solidified their grip on the iron throne.
For the next few years, the plebians began to thrive... but only so very briefly.
Fragmented and without a common leader, rift started to form between the plebian alliance. By 2306, the continent was a complete mess - 5 years after the elites were eliminated from the face of the earth -, far more chaotic than the hay days of 'law and order', on hindsight.
At the beginning of the revolution, Roan had taken Elena under his wing and protection. But in the former years, he needed every ounce of resource he could gather to lead the revolution. Roan saw Elena as a talent. She had the face, body and charm that proved to be highly effective in subduing and seducing key opponents. He groomed her to be his agent, drugging out his enemies one by one, until none was left to stand in his way. In a way, the revolution would not have been possible without Elena.
Somewhere along the line however, even a man who was once hailed as a hero by many, started to lose his own way. Power was a curse, an addiction. When the elites were progressively felled, and he attained more and more control over time, it was then that he understood why the elites had been so hellbent on holding onto their crown. He was so hooked with his newfound authority, he started to toy and experiment. When the numbers of his enemies dwindled, he found himself repurposing some of his female victims... for his own depraved pleasure. Roan had exercised some dark ideas that had laid dormant in his mind for the longest time.
Elena had never seen or heard the tortures that he did to his female subjects in years following the end of the revolution. But rumours had it leaked from the inner circle who were present for such sessions, said that each time, there seemed to be no depths to how far he could potentially go. Because for the longest time, Roan respected Elena's contribution to his kingdom, and thus, left her untouched, as much as she was a stunningly attractive lady with a feisty attitude - the sort of female victim that usually got him most excited to tear apart, for he adored exercising power over the powerful, which was the recurring theme of his life in recent years.
April 22nd 2306. It was the day Roan had tasked Elena to do what she did best, to knock out an assassin and drag him back for 'interrogation', of which his intel had informed him that the target had been hired by an anonymous figure to eliminate Morgan - his most trusted ally, one of the seven overlords including himself that overthrew the previous government.
She never returned.
July 17th 2306. Morgan was assassinated. Roan was fucking fuming. On the 18th, he tasked Dane to locate Elena, one way or another. Amusingly enough, Elena was swiftly located on the 22nd - exactly three months since Roan was informed of the tragic news that would have far reaching implications to his grasp over his very fragile hold over the fraternity.
That evening, the man was sat on his swerving leather arm chair. He was digging into his dinner - a plate of medium rare steak with gravied mash and broccolini. He forked a piece into his mouth, when Dane walked Elena in. Just to his right against the wall, laid a wheelable cage that seemed to be ominously designed for minimal room for adjustment. At worst, it could barely fit a petite lady, in a tight fetal position should one be completely barred and squeezed within.
"Feels like you haven't been gone." Roan replied coolly, despite Elena's brattish outburst when she opened her mouth. "Dane, stay. Don't leave yet, will you?" His face was as calm as his tone. But everyone in the room knew it was nothing but a deceiving facade. He paused, taking his time with a mouthful of wine, before forking another piece of beef into his mouth.
"Elena?" "Do you know what you have done?" He paused, taking another sip of his wine. "You have singlehandedly fucked up the whole equilibrium of our society, all thanks to your one moronic misstep." "Forever at my service." Roan muttered a little softer to himself, repeating the words Elena just sarcastically spewed, before he scoffed. "Indeed. But you also knew I cannot tolerate anything less than imperfection. I detest it with a passion." "Tell me, Lena. Have you been imperfect?"
"And remind me again, based on all the years of experience that you had been working for me, what do I exactly do to... straighten up people who fell short of my.. expectations?"
Feels like you haven't been gone, indeed. Standing in front of him now, it was like she never left. He made the past three months feel like a distant dream. She already missed her crappy apartment. Not to mention her lousy job., the guy next door and the open bar just around the corner. Roan had robbed her of that. He had robbed her of a lot of things, but now that she knew what freedom tasted like she'd always work towards it. One way or another, she would find a way to become a free woman. Perhaps not today, perhaps not tomorrow, but one day she would be a free woman again.
Elena didn't like Roan's toneβnot that she ever hadβbut when he ordered Dane to stay, a cold shiver ran down her spine. Her gaze darted to Dane, her eyes filled with silent questions he couldn't answer even if he knew the answers. If Roan didn't want him to leave it could only mean one of two things. Either he wanted Dane to witness the punishment he had in store for her. Or, he was going to use him to force her to her knees. Either way, it wasn't going to end well for either of them. She just prayed it was the former, so Dane wouldn't get hurt because of her.
She tried to keep her cool as she turned her attention back to Roan. Despite her somewhat neutral face, everyone in the room could probably tell how much she hated her Master. Her eyes glowed with hatred. And she didn't exactly try to hide it. She stood her ground as she watched him sip his wine, listening to his bullshit. Did she know what she had done? He had to be a little more specific. Elena had done a lot for him throughout the years. She narrowed her gaze at his accusations. "I have fucked up?" she said, pointing a finger at herself in disbelief. "In case you haven't noticed, I haven't been here to fuck things up for you."
But Roan kept talking, and Elena just couldn't stand by and watch any longer. She walked towards him, her thick heels clacking against the floor as she placed one foot in front of the other. By the time she reached the table, she'd almost forgotten about the other people in the room.
She placed both hands on the table, glaring at Roan. "Tell me, Roan," she shot back at him, her tone laced with poison. "Have you?" With a tilt of her head, she pushed herself back up again so she could cross her arms and look down at him with a smug look on her face. Not that it lasted very long.
He could probably see the shift in her eyes as he asked her that last question. The way he phrased it. . . It was like he knew one of her secrets. Except, Elena had many. She tried her best not to react, to not show any sign of fear. Because if he knew that she was suspicious, God knew what he would do to her. But she'd heard whispers of the rumors. She'd even heard screams on a few occasions that she's pretty sure weren't for her ears. Lately, she'd been suspecting that Roan's methods were a bit extreme, but everyone he had ever punished, they'd deserved it. But Elena, Elena didn't deserve to be punished. Not for wanting some freedom. She didn't deserve the same faith as his enemies. . . Did she?
"I don't know," she eventually said, her voice cool but steady. "Why don't you tell me? I mean, surely you must know what you do to them?" She swallowed hard, trying not to let her fear rise to the surface. Roan didn't need to know how terrified she was of him right now. And the only way to conceal it was to act as if she wasn't scared at all, least of all of him. Up until now, she'd never really had a reason to be afraid of him. Not a real one anyway.
For a moment, there was a stare off contest the first time he sarcastically remarked about her lack of absence, that it felt like it was only just yesterday. She glared right at him as if he had committed a grave misdeed against her. Technically speaking, that actually might be the case. But that wasn't so much the point. The crux, was that Elena was displaying a lack of respect for the man who dragged her out of the shithole she initially found herself caught in. She repaid his kindness to spare the effort to save her back then, by defying and denying his request for her loyalty - a live, for less than a live.
From Roan's perspective, he really wasn't asking a lot out of Elena. She was provided food, shelter, even afforded certain luxuries that many people in that troubled age would die to swap their tragic lives in place of Elena's lifestyle. They say greed knows no bounds. For Elena, she didn't seem to appreciate how fortunate her circumstance was as compared to the plebian norms. Would she risk access to necessities and protection in favour of unrestrained freedom? She had enjoyed three months out in the streets, but only because her coffers were filled. Sooner or later, she was going to run out of those resources. Sooner or later, she was going to find herself sinking back into a rat race with the rest.
Roan truly believed he was saving Elena from that cutthroat life most were trying to break free from. He believed Elena couldn't survive out there alone for an extended period. He just needed to force make her see his perspective. He could afford patience. But patience was a limited resource for a man like him, in which he had been conditioned to the notion that every minute was vital to him when it came to running an empire. Elena had proved once already, that him exercising his patience with her had proved costly to him - the death of his closest confederate.
Breath easy. Breath easy.
He really wanted to grant Elena a second chance, to let her know that she had fucked up. Unlike the other victims that he had ruthlessly dealt with, he adored Elena. He could not deny that at least for the past few years, her contribution had led to many resounding successes, and most notably, the revolution.
But Elena as it turned out, had a knack for pushing boundaries. He knew that for a while now. He seen her done it with her colleagues from the side lines in the past, but never with him. And now for the first time, she decided to pull that trigger of an act. She didn't realise Roan wasn't just like any colleagues of her. She didn't realise the severity of her imminent disciplining that Roan was on the cusp of meting out to her because of her defiance. Not just that, but she was aggravating her precarious position with her uncontrollable foul mouth.
"I have fucked up?" "In case you haven't noticed, I haven't been here to fuck things up for you."
Roan took in a deep breath. His eyes shut, his right fist, clenched. He held that on for a few long seconds. One could see that he was desperately trying to contain his very volatile emotions in. "Have you turned dense and lose some IQ after being out there in the streets for the past three months? It is precisely why you hadn't been around and gone AWOL that you had fucked things up."
"I had been holding this realm of ours together, and you ruined it, the moment you decided to snub that mission I tasked you to execute. Of all fucking missions, you decided to bail on this one that matteredthe most."
But Elena pressed on with her attitude, in typical Elena fashion, throwing his question for her, back at him. What insane audacity.
She was so recklessly fearless, it amused Roan to an extent that he hadn't felt in a while. He was far more used to his victims pleading, crying, screaming for mercy, and less so of them running their mouths. She managed to elicit a scoff from him, along with an ensuing grin of disbelief. Was Elena actually under the illusion that she was immune to his wrath?
She had been instrumental in the running of his underworld empire. That didn't mean however, that she was free from the consequences of her actions and be granted with the equivalence of diplomatic immunity. If anything, Roan had been incredibly tolerant and merciful with her up until that point.
"I don't know,"
"Why don't you tell me? I mean, surely you must know what you do to them?"
She triggered her first warning strike before. And almost soon after, she made her second. Elena had no idea how much restrain Roan was practicing at that point, as he had resorted to fidgeting with his hands and fingers just to rein himself in. But as much as he tried, he was starting to tire from her little game, whatever she was playing at. Unfortunately for Elena, her trying to play smart was provoking the situation more than it was helping her cause. Her apparent lack of fear and regard for the man of authority, was making him feel increasingly disillusioned.
Wordlessly, he rolled out a side drawer from the desk he was sat behind, and pulled out a pistol. For the next quarter of a minute, he began to load the cartridge with a six bullets, one by one, while the other two persons in the room watched in silence.
Once he was done loading, he cocked the gun, his index finger slipping close to the trigger, but then rested the firearm along with his hand on the arm rest of the chair he was settled on.
"Strip, Lena." His hand with the pistol briefly lifted from the chair, with the muzzle pointed precariously at Elena, using it to gesture her to move along.
"You said you wanted to find out?"
"I'll show you."
βGo on.β Roan flicked his pistol in gesture, urging with mild incredulousness, as his impatience was started to seep through his demeanour, tiring from Elena lagged display of compliance since the moment she left him.
It was obvious that Roan blamed her for Morgan's death. A part of her could even understand why. But she had not pulled the trigger. She had not pushed him over a cliff. Was there a chance that he would still be alive if she hadn't abandoned the mission to escape? Maybe. But that was a big, fucking maybe. There was no way of telling if Morgan wouldn't have ended up dead one way or another anyway. "Perhaps if you had told me why you wanted to interrogate him, I would have dropped him off at your doorstep before I left," Elena said sharply. She tried not to blame herself for Morgan's death. She didn't know any better. She'd thought it was just another mission. Just another guy who had pissed Roan off. Not an assassin who was planning on killing one of his most trusted allies.
It didn't take a genius to notice that Roan was getting pissed. At her. And again, she couldn't really blame him. She was pushing a lot of his buttons, but then again, it wasn't like he wasn't pushing any of hers. They were both doing a good job pissing each other off, and concealing their emotions, although Elena could tell his patience were running thin. At lest until he gave her that wicked grin. If anything, it told her exactly what he thought about the situation. That she was in way over her head.
And she probably was.
The pistol he pulled out proved that. She tried to hide her initial shock as her eyes landed on it. No one said anything while he loaded the cartridge with bullets. not even Elena. She wanted to ask him if he was planning on shooting her, but she didn't have a death wishβnot yet. She didn't dare take her eyes off him now. But the words that came out of his mouth as he pointed the gun at her was not the words she expected to hear. Nor was it something she wanted to hear.
Elena was taken by surprise. A flicker of shock flashed across her features and the fear in her eyes glowed even brighter than before. She could no longer conceal her emotions. Strip. He wanted her to strip. Her eyes darted to Dane for reassurance but he didn't want to meet her gaze. She didn't even bother to look at the other men still present, but she couldn't help but wonder if they were all supposed to watch her strip. Her eyes found their way back to Roan and his pistol.
He urged her to go on. Threatened her, really. I'll show you. Her body stood frozen for a moment, trying to contemplate what was happeningβwhat he was saying. Was he going to show her what he did to people who don't live up to his expectations? Because Elena wasn't particularly keen on finding out. She knew it wasn't going to be pleasant. Despite what it might look like, she wasn't stupid. But finding out what it felt like like to be shot wasn't exactly high on her list either. So, she did the only thing she could. She began to strip.
Her fingers grabbed the hem of her shirt and she pulled started to pull it above her head, revealing a toned stomach and a lot of pale skin. "Are you going to shootme?" she asked calmly, pausing to lock eyes with him before she let the fabric cover her face for a split second. It was a rhetorical question, but she couldn't hide the slight trembling in her voice. Shortly after she dropped the t-shirt on the table between them, not caring that it landed on his plate. If he wanted her to strip, she'd strip.
The black bra she wore complemented her breasts, making them look rounder and fuller than they truly was. Elena wasn't ashamed of her bodyβher body looked ravishingβbut that didn't mean she wanted Roan to see it. Not to mention Dane. She couldn't really care less about the other goons, but their presence wasn't exactly appreciated. She unbuttoned her jeans and pulled down the zipper, her eyes never leaving Roan's.
"Do you like what you see?" she asked, her tone cold as ice. "Do I exceed your expectations?" She was, in fact, walking on thin ice and she knew it. But the cold shivers running down her spine only fueled her resentment towards him. She started to pull the jeans down her hips, revealing a black, lace thong. Elena was having a hard time figuring out why Roan suddenly wanted to see her body when he'd never shown any interest to see it in the past. She had a feeling she was going to find out soon enough.
"How long have you been dying to see my bodyβhuh?"
"Perhaps if you had told me why you wanted to interrogate him, I would have dropped him off at your doorstep before I left,"
Roan scoffed. Her retort was amusing, but certainly not unexpected. He was never at the receiving end of her sharp tongue until that day. "If I have to explain myself to every single one of my people, I won't have the time left to run anything. Besides, it's a matter of high confidentiality. For all I know, you might be a mole. And the fact that you failed me on this task, pretty much justified my decision to not completely put my faith in you and let you in on the matter."
"You're a disappointment, Elena, to put it bluntly." It was typical Roan, ruthlessly abusive not just in his physical form, but in the verbal realm as well. His criticism came despite the fact that Elena had been one of his primary cogwheels of his empire for a while. Her one grave mistake had effectively nullified all the good that she had done for Roan and his empire. And then she had the cheek to rub it in and emphasise that she still had the intention to leave whether she would have completed her assignment or not. Roan could not even be bothered to glorify her taunt with a response. She didn't deserve it.
Instead, she had only given him further impetus to make her understand that stepping out of his doorstep, was never an option for her to begin with. Even if he had somehow miraculously had the slightest grace to consider giving her a pass to freedom, she had effectively ruined her chances of attaining it by approaching the matter with the worst of tact in the first place. Roan was beginning to see that for a girl like Elena, superficial threats alone simply would not be sufficient to rock her stubborn resolve. She would need way more motivation than that.
Roan had been in the game long enough to able pick up every verbal and postural nuance. And it wasn't difficult to spot the manner in which Elena stiffened herself the first time round he reached for his pistol, and had the muzzle pointing precariously towards her direction. It was instinctive, involuntarily. And it was telling of her emotional state of mind, betraying all the defiance she was desperately trying to put up in the face of him.
Eventually, the show did begin, as he had envisioned - almost. He watched Elena strip, while the other men in the room were a lot more cautious with their gazes, amounting to no more than fleeting, stolen glances every now and then. But it was mainly Roan who enjoyed the display the most out of the little gathering, as evident from the biggest of grin showing through from his lips yet. His four fingers, resting against his right cheek, thumb grazing against his chin, fidgeting softly. He savoured the sight of the lady dropping down her outer apparels by ogling her prime feminine features - firm stomach, sensuous hour glass curves. It was frustrating however, that she hadn't got the initiative to follow through his demand for her to strip down completely, as it should have been obvious. That, or she was purposefully feigning innocence and hell bent on irking him, which was more likely the case than not.
"Are you going to shootme?"
"I would, it you keep trying to play dumb. You and I both know what I mean exactly when I asked you to bare yourself. That's a nice set of lingerie you have on. But at this moment in time, I reckon you don't deserve to have any apparels on you."
"Before you think of opening your mouth, I suggest you think twice before you feel inclined to try to aggravate the situation further." "Just a fair warning. Lest you accuse me of being unreasonable."
He paused. There was a moment of awkward silence, before he continued.
"Actually, I wouldn't shoot you. I reckon there are better ways to drive my point across to you than to maim you or end your life - neither options are financially sound moves as far as I am concerned. I need you, Elena baby. I just need to bring you back into the right headspace like you were at when I first took you under my wing, so we can both thrive, like we used to in the past few golden years."
"I don't get why you just have to ruined it all for us all."
"Do you like what you see?" "Do I exceed your expectations?" "How long have you been dying to see my bodyβhuh?"
Roan didn't verbally respond immediately. Instead, he raised his pistol and aimed at Elena - or at least, he looked like he was aiming at her. He pulled the trigger and...
...BANG.
"FUCKKKK!" Dane's scream suddenly pierced through the air, positionally coming just no more than an inch or two to her right, but some distance behind Elena by her eleventh o'clock. The bullet landed on his right upper thigh, rendering his right limb incapacitated. "URGHHHHHH!!" The big guy curled into a fetal position, as he attempted to ease the searing pain but to no avail. He continued to speak, with Dane's loud groans progressively turned into persistent background noise.
"It's a good start. But I think you can do much better."
"You're far from my expectation in this current state of you, Lena baby."
"I've been dying to see your body, but not exactly like this."
"I have little patience for games, Elena. Both you and I know what you're playing at. It's amusing the first time round. But I don't have all day."
"However. It's not too late to make amends."
"I don't have the luxury of time. Neither do you, or Dane, as you can see." "If I have to sacrifice Dane to bring you back, then it's a price I am willing to pay, albeit with much regret."
He then turned his attention to his wounded accomplice. "I'm sorry, Dane. Elena is just more precious to me as an asset. I hope you understand. This is nothing personal. Just purely transactional."
"Your life really isn't so much in my hands, but in that of your dear friend right here." Eventually his attention turned back to Elena.
"So what say you, my baby girl?" "All it takes, is for you to dress down to your birthday suit, and fit yourself into that little kitty cage we have there for you, and I'll send Dane to the med station soonest. Or, you stand here and watch the man who saved you, bleed to a slow death."
"If I'm feeling merciful, I'll maybe plant a few more bullets into him and accelerate the process. I don't know. What would you prefer?"Roan smiled. But his expression reeked of deceit, and there was nothing warm about it, but one of balefulness. "Don't help her, boys. If she has the brain to sneak out of this place, this should be an easy feat for her." The man turned to address the other three remaining grunts in the vicinity.
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