The Caged

It was always about the waiting. Waiting for the next meal. Waiting for the sun to come up so I could make a mark in the dirt floor. How many marks now? I traced them with my fingertips. One…two….five….ten…more? The darkness was deafening, only a small streak of light visiting the cage through the tiny barred window in the corner, partially blocked by a bed of flowers. I knew it must finally be spring. The winter passed without any visitors, snow packed against the glass, my world black for days, weeks at a time it seemed. Waiting for spring. Waiting for the creak of the door, the heavy footsteps, the key in the lock. Waiting. Always waiting.

It had been a long time since I had heard a knock on the front door. How many marks ago? One? Two? Ten? Fifty? The last time, the door quickly closed and a car sped off into the night. There were no footsteps that time. This time, I hoped, would be different. Knock. Knock. Knock. Somewhat muffled and subdued, not like last time at all. The door above me opened, a female voice spoke. I couldn’t hear the words, but two sets of footsteps walked, and then silence. Waiting.

The creak of the door. His voice, “Walk down the stairs,” and then footsteps on wood, louder, closer, faster. Waiting. “In the corner,” he bellowed at last, as I crouched against the cool cement wall with my apple, as he trained me to do my first day. I had always been an obedient pet, and was well rewarded for it. After rubbing some extra dirt in my hair, I clutched the apple with both hands, savagely biting into it, feeling her under me already.

“Closer!” The first thing I saw was her left foot. Bright red pumps with four inch heels quickened their pace, and then the familiar harshness of flesh on metal, the click of a key, and the scent of her flesh washing over me. “Undress,” he demanded. I could wait no more. Hungrily, the apple abandoned in the corner with the pile of rotten cores, I grasped her ankles—hard. With practiced hands, sticky with anticipation, I pulled her to the ground like a wild animal overtaking its prey, pushing her knees up against her chest, mouth finding the delicious wetness between her legs. “Lie down,” I heard, and positioned my dripping hairy box above her mouth, just out of reach as I devoured her snatch in a frenzy of licking and sucking, my face now covered with her . I knew I would be able to savor her for days.

“Lick her,” he ordered, as I lowered myself closer. At last, her tongue thrust into my waiting lips, filling my throbbing cunt with her nose. Again, the footsteps, the sound of a zipper, the slapping of thighs against flesh as his hard cock plunged deep into my ass, which flung itself backwards to take more of him in. I couldn’t get enough of his searing flesh, my thighs aching from pushing hard against his stomach, dripping with sweat and power. “Lick my cock,” I heard, as he pulled out of me and thrust into her mouth. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. And then relief, as he returned where he belonged, my knees digging into the damp dirt floor, hands tight around her ankles, my mouth biting at her clit like a piranha, devouring her flesh.

“Get on your hands and knees. Both of you.” And we obeyed. I felt his hand firmly on my ass, digging a finger deep inside of me, her moans in my ear again and again and again. I heard him pull out of her, her back slapping into the floor. I climbed onto her face, his hands on my neck, grabbing, choking, dick in her pussy thrusting with such force that it drove her tongue deeper inside me, rough and wet, gasping for breath, black spots in front of my eyes driving me to push harder onto her face, my hands on his ass pulling him closer.

He picked me up by the neck and effortlessly flung me into the corner to watch. “Suck my cock,” he whispered, grabbing her hair and flexing his hips in one deft motion. I heard her gagging, my entire fist shoved into my slippery snatch, unclenching and flexing my fingers, and finally, he moaned. My pussy grabbed my hand tightly as I came in the darkness, and I suppressed my screams as I was taught through the liberal use of his cane so long ago.

“Stay here.” And then, as always, the click of the key, and the loud footsteps faded up the stairs, leaving me to wait until I could obey him once again.