For a time, I let her cry. Partly out of simple enjoyment, to be sure. Miranda being naked was still new to me, must less her in lingerie, and there was some sort of kinky pleasure I took in watching her, trapped in her little cage. But that was more a bonus for me than anything. The point of it was the despair.
So, happily enough, I let her marinate in her helplessness, and how far she had fallen.
Then I let her out.
Miranda’s tears cut off with a yelp as my hand approached her cage, and she backpettled frantically, as if hiding in an empty cage would protect her. She stilled, though, as I released the clasp and swung the door open invitingly. I waited, but she she didn’t move beyond fixing me with a suspicious stare.
“You’re free to go.” I said. “No tricks.”
Reaching back into the box, I pulled out her dress once again and laid it out on the table as she stared.
“Don’t you want this?” I teased. “Cloothes, Miranda. You like clothes.”
Cautiously, she ventured from the cage, never dropping eye contact with me as she took each tremulous step, until she reached the dress.
Bending over, and giving me a view of her back I had to force myself to not experence with touch as well as sight, Miranda picked up the small bundle of fabric. For a second, she closed her eyes and hugged it to herself. Then she looked to where I patiently waited.
“Well?” She asked. “Now what?”"
I smiled. “Now we play, Miranda. A simple game of choice, a brief series of binary questions. Or, you could leave the table right now, I guess.”
I shrugged. “I wouldn’t advise that, not if you ever want to see your friends again, but you could.”
She puffed herself up with righteous fury, but I cut in before she could go anywhere with it. “Oh, they’re fine. They’ll continue to be fine, even. But you will never see them again Miranda. Not until you play my little game.”
She bit back the first thing she wanted to say. Then the second, and the third, and quite possibly the fourth, before she found something she thought diplomatic enough to say.
“Fine, Ian. So how do we play?”
“I’ve already told you the how, Miranda: answer my questions. Pick Choice A or Choice B, no third answers, no refusal to choose. What you should be more interested in are the stakes.”
I leaned in eagerly, driving her back a step in response.
“I’m sure you remember what situation you were in just a minute ago. Well, unfortunately, your friends are in the exact same situation: locked away, no clothes, nothing to do, only Min Chow to eat. You can help them, Miranda… but it’ll cost you. Because right now? Right now, there’s only one set of freedoms in this house, and you have all of them. If you want their lot to improve? You have to worsen yours.”
My smile widened as she shook her head slowly.
“The name of the game is Sacrifice, Miranda. To give something up to receive something else in return. I made this because I’m curious: will you give up your comforts for theirs? How much do they mean to you?”
I leaned back as her wordless denials grew more frantic.
“Let’s find out: first question, Miranda. Who lives in a cage? Is it you, or them?”
At last she found her voice. “I… I can’t make that choice, Ian. I just can’t.”
I wagged a finger lecturingly. “Ah, you see, I thought you’d say that. So let’s make things clear: if you don’t choose, none of you get that freedom. It vanishes into the wind, lost forever. Either one of you lives in a cage, Miranda, or you all do.”
There was a beat of silence as it sank in. Then, “Them!” she shouted frantically. “Them! I’m not going back in there! I’m can’t handle it I-”
Then she gasped, and held her hand to her mouth as if trying to stop herself from saying anything else, but she didn’t try to take it back, either.
“Very well then, Miranda,” I said, trying to look and sound as soothing as possible. “No more cage for you.”
Unless I wanted to, of course. There was clearly some kind of trauma there, either from actually being in a cage or how she had walked herself inside it, and it wasn’t something I was above using.
She sagged in relief at my confirmation, and I let her have that brief moment to calm herself before I continued. At that moment, she looked indescribably pathetic in a way I couldn’t place: a lingerie clad woman, kneeling in helpless joy on a table that dwarfed her, hands clasped tightly around a dress so small it barely covered her.
“Thank you, Ian.” She whispered fervently. “Thank you.”
“Who eats Min Chow?” I asked in response, ruthlessly shattering her calm.
She stiffened at my words, and let out a silent gasp, but didn’t hesitate in answering. “They do, Ian.”
I nodded. “Who wears only underwear and heels?”
I had put this question after the other two for a reason: guilt. I couldn’t see her allowing herself to return to the cage or the Chow, but she had probably grown used to nudity at this point. After denying them twice, the guilt could be enough for her to accept that return. I was fine with the answer either way, really, I’d get my eyefulls of her no matter what, but seeing her struggle over the question so furiously was delightful.
Miranda hesitated again, and this time I didn’t interrupt, not wanting to taint her choice.
“I… I…” She began, before trailing off. She gulped and gathered her courage. “I do. I only wear my underwear.”
I couldn’t help licking my lips as she said it, and Miranda stirred uneasily at the sight. Even more so as I reached out and pinched the dress she still held in her hands. For an instant, she tried to fight me, to keep her hold on it, before surrendering it to my pull.
I didn’t move the fabric away immediately, instead letting her gaze at it with helpless desire a few moments more before returning it to the box a second time.
That, at least, would be returned to her in time, no matter what she thought about it. I had so much fun dressing her once that there was no way I would deny myself that pleasure in the future, both with more interesting outfits and a far more literal take on the phrase ‘dressing’.
“As for the last… I’ll admit that’s something I didn’t think through. There’s a pile of everything needed to make the Min House livable right in front of the very house they’re trapped in, yet I have nothing to add to the cage you’re not even using. I could leave it as an easy choice, but this is supposed to be a punishment…”
I mused on the problem briefly. “How about this? Either I subject you to some as yet undefined indignity in the future, or the others continue to live in their little house with nothing but some sheets. Seems fair to me.”
“‘Fair’, huh?” Miranda snorted bitterly. “Sure, that makes sense. You know what? Fine. Fine!”
She lifted her arms into the air, as if she was making it easier to grab her. “Do what you want to me; you’re going to anyways! I might as well give them something out of it.”
When I didn’t move, they fell back to her sides and she sighed.
“And besides, that makes two for them and two for me. Sounds pretty fair, doesn’t it?”
I’ll admit, I feel a bit rusty, and this chapter feels a tad off, but we’re back.
