It was a place she knew all to well. A cold, hard surface beneath her naked form. Laying in a fetal position, arms wrapped around her knees, hugged tightly to her chest. Sapphires blinking back tears in the darkness.

But she knew where she was.

Her cage.

And from the searing pain coming from her back, she had performed poorly. The wounds would not be healed until she was to sing again. She would spend hours in pain, no comforts in her bare cage. Her role as a tool and toy were well known at this point.

Minutes blended with hours as she despondently stared at the darkness that enveloped her.
When she heard the doors open, she stood, her body hurting from laying on the unforgiving floor and the marks stretched across her back.

Bright lights flashed on and a flowing dress of delicate spider silk appeared on her body, billowing our around her. A warmth spread across her back as wounds were healed, it wouldn’t do good to see a damaged toy. The cage dissolved around her as a pedestal of cold marble was felt under her feet.

She never was allowed to see her audience, the bright lights focused squarely on her face, providing warmth, and blindness. As she began to sing, she remembered she couldn’t move. Moving was grounds for punishment, she had to stand absolutely still, not a single muscle twitch.

Then she heard it, a note was missed, her pitch off, and a knot formed in her stomach as her heart dropped into her feet. She failed, she let her Keeper and his audience down. And she would pay for it later. How badly she wanted to shake, but she held fast to her stillness. Never let them see the fear.

As the lights dimmed, and the show was over, she felt the dress disappear. When the cage grew around her, she moved to the back, knelling with her head down, hair parted to expose her back. She knew the routine well at this point.

She never heard him enter the cage. But the pain could be felt, as the knife cut the skin. Soon a searing pain could be felt as the skin was peeled off her back. Each musical note she missed was carved into her back and removed to remind her. Each slice causing her to grit her teeth to not cry out. Tears forming and streaming down her cheeks. The urge to curl into a ball and scream out was strong, but not strong enough to force her to cry out. The feeling of skin being taken from her back would never be forgotten. The lesson of not being perfect burned into her mind.