Golden Cage | On The Wings

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gold bars or iron. . .your still trapped.

Part one - click to view full size

Part Two - click to view full size

Part 3 - click to view full size

I haven't done a mult-panel in a while but the story demanded it.  A bit of role reversal. 

She had a habit of wandering the courtyards when Sir was away.  With the bodyguards looming on the outskirts, it was the closest thing she had to privacy.  Usually there were maids and hangers on swirling about as she sat in silence, but here she could actually be alone with her thoughts.  In these scant, stolen moments, the beautiful Maxine could look back and remember when she was once someone else.  

There had been a time when she had been head of her jet-setting entourages.  An army of yes-men a few steps behind while a chosen flavor of the week eye candy strutted on the wings of the pack.  Max had been the alpha, the CEO of a multi-national and on top of the world.  Nothing was beyond his reach, no expense too wasteful.  Had he been the worst billionaire?  No, but he had been arrogant in his decadent lifestyle.    It had made him lazy . . . and an easy target.  

To the rest of the world, Maximoff Goldwell overdosed in his hotel suite three years ago.  In reality, he had been taken from his room in the dead of night, spirited away to some long forgotten research lab that had been taken off his company’s books.  The workers there were loyal to his vice president and they didn’t flinch when Max threatened them from inside his cell.  Whatever strange sweet tasting liquids they forced Max to drink sapped him of his strength.  His once strong muscles faded away in a matter of days.  Arms grew thinner, hands became tiny little things.  Whatever was inside him was slithering around, and rearranging him. 

The sensations were not unpleasant.  If anything, they were utterly titillating.  He would wither inside his cell, trying to ignore the warm pressure building inside his hips and waist.  He would moan as his hips splayed outward while his waist cinched in.  Everyday, a new part of him would change and shift, remaking him into something new.  His legs become slender and soft, matching his arms.  The strange pressure built up in his throat, demanding his voice become a breathy alto.  Soft moans replaced gruff groans when the warmth started gathering between Max’s legs, forcing his manhood to pulse.  He was helpless when it erupted with his seed, draining the last vestiges of masculinity from his body. The pleasure of it all mocked Max as his spent loins rearranged themselves.  The internal heat from his hips and abdomen kept his mind in a glaze as womanhood pulsed to life inside him.  Finally, the pulsing within his chest gave way, rhythmic surges pushing flesh into a pair of luscious breasts - heavy, soft and impossible to ignore. 

The feminine creature that had once been Max had believed her ordeal over.  She quickly found the physical changes were only the beginning.  They moved her to a new location, but she had little freedom.  Within the luxurious room, she was instructed in feminine beauty and presentation.  They implanted compulsions within her mind to keep her obedient and docile. The mental programming echoed in her mind as she tried to struggle against it, but she found the rewards of obedience to be more alluring.  Listening to her instructors meant good food and pampering from the servants.  Insubordination brought punishments that drained her of all will and resistance.  She learned to hide her emotions behind the smiles they demanded of her.  

The result was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions within the new girl.  She learned to love the haute couture clothing they wrapped her supple curves in but she was embarrassed by her enjoyment of the expensive fabrics.  Every time Maxine tried to resist the compulsion to repair her makeup or preen in the mirror, some endorphic nerve response would cloud her mind and force her to comply.  Eventually she gave up fighting the compulsions and adopted the traits into her new life.  She didn’t have to pretend to like fashion, she willingly read the women’s magazines and practiced her posture.  They never allowed her to wear anything less than a four inch heel unless she was doing her yoga and exercise regimens.  Of course, there were the times they forced her to learn and perform sex acts.  At first she resisted them but quickly found the punishment too much.  It was easier to focus on the little pleasure she was allowed while she pleasured her partners.

There were some good things.  Her meals were always expensive and rich in flavor.  She was allowed bubble baths in perfumed water and she was often pampered by a masseuse.  The relaxing fingers drained the stress of having to be a perfect hyper femme toy. After almost two years of this, she was finally introduced to her owner - a former subordinate who had risen to Max’s former position.  He quickly established a new hierarchy between showing how much control he had over her.  

“Your body is mine to control,” he whispered with his hands.  “I had you molded into this body and pulled it under my dominion.  Escape is futile because I can track your every move.  Try to run and I can have you dragged back in less than fifteen minutes.  However, I can make your life a comfortable one.  Please me and you will be rewarded.  Anger me and I will take great pleasure in your punishment.”  

True to his word, he treated her well when she obeyed.  Maids waited on her, bathed her and dressed her each morning.  She went to the most elegant parties wearing the most beautiful dresses.  She silently held his arm, never once speaking unless spoken to.  In public, she was an accessory to her master’s success, something to pack along with the luggage when he went from one locale to the next.  She could go shopping for new clothing, but every move she made was shadowed by hulking bodyguards in black suits.  And while she hated to admit it, pleasuring her master was more enjoyable that she wanted it to be.  Sometimes, Maxine would entertain thoughts of escape, but she knew the risks far outweighed the slim hope of freedom.  She had long resigned herself to her fate as an object of beauty.  While she had once been leader of the pack, Maxine was now the trophy eye candy in the entourage.  Her golden cage was beautiful, but it was still a cage.