So, a while back I met this guy through a dating app... actually it's more of a sex app.

I found it one night after accidentally falling into an erotica rabbit hole. I was maybe trying to buy a dildo? I don't remember. But one thing led to another and before I could say "Yo, girl, what the hell?" I found the Will you fuck me app. Which is basically where you post requests from kinky sex encounters and strangers can reply if they are willing to take you up on it.

And because I had this really hot fantasy about being fucked in a train by a stranger (and then by many strangers) I decided to give it a go.

This is how I met him.

On the train.

On the craziest ride of my life.

But that was a while ago.

Now, I'm just getting texts from him.

“I really liked your pussy”

I read the text and laugh.

A poet, ladies and gentlemen.

I don’t know what to respond so I just like the message and watch the red heart pop up. He immediately starts typing again.

I don’t know his name, but I’ve been calling him Eager since he first touched me on the train cause that’s exactly what he felt like. Eager to touch me. Eager to fuck me. And now Eager for more.

“You wanna give it to me again?”

“What do you have in mind?” I ask, rolling my eyes cause that was some weird choice of words. The train was hot but I wanna try something new.

“Take a look at my profile on the website. Maybe one of my requests will make you wet”

“How about you tell me the one you want the most and I’ll tell you if I’m up for it”

“The one I want the MOST? You sure?”

That’s a bad omen.

It’s gonna be something weird, isn’t is?

It’s gonna be creepy or scary or laughable.

Thank God we are doing this over text.

“I’m sure”

He types for a long time. He is probably typing and retyping, trying to find the right words. I’m almost getting bored and moving on to something else when the reply pops up:

“I want you to come over to my house. I have a little space in my garage I’ve been preparing for special… pets. I want to lock you in that cage, I want to feed you my cum. I want to tie your feet up through the cage and rub lotion on your pussy until you beg to cum. Then I’ll fuck you”

That’s not so bad.

I could potentially do that.

The thought makes me smirk. Look at me. I’m turning into a whore and I’m loving it.

I’m a little cautious over the being in a cage part but Eager did protect me on the train when strangers came with their phones out. That’s what decent guys do, right? So maybe that means he is decent?

I’m curious enough to go with that.

“If I want to stop?” I ask.

“I use Everest as a safe word, but we can use any one you like”

“Everest is fine. I can’t today, but… Friday?”

“Friday. Wear a short skirt and no bra”

I get his address and make sure he knows I am sending all his info to a friend before I go there. You know? In case he is planning to kill me or something. He doesn’t mind my friend having his name and address. He just keeps reminding me “short skirt” and “no bra”, like he is paying me for my time… like

I’m providing a service and I guess I kinda am?

I don’t know what it is that I’m doing, but it’s exciting as hell.

I ring his doorbeet on Friday. I got dressed extra nice. Sexy make up, very short skirt with really good lingerie. Well, really good panties anyway.

Eager on the other end…

As soon as he opens the door, I’m taken aback.

He is wearing old jeans and a beat down band shirt. He has those huge worker boots on and…car grease? All over him. Black marks on his forearms, hand, neck and shirt. I think he even has a spot on his cheek.

We are not doing this if he didn’t shower.

Fuck a stranger? Yeah, sure, I’ll do it.

As long as it’s a clean stranger.

Eager is incredibly tall and strong. Like a firefighter or (more likely) some bulky mechanic. He has a scruffy beard and a rough look all around.

“In here, kitty”

“My name is Annie”

“How about you come in and I call you whatever”

“How about you don’t be a jerk or I’ll walk out?”

He grabs my wrist and pulls me in. It’s like the train all over again: he is far too big for me to fight him.

I could say Everest, but I don’t.

I’m not scared. I’m… turned on.

“In there” he lightly pushes my waist, guiding us through a door in the back.

His house looks very incredibly clean.

Like obsessive behaviour clean.

It also looks like only a man lives there now and only men were ever allowed to live there for the past eleven generations.

Brown leather chairs, furniture made of salvage wood that looks like he built himself. Not a lot of color, not a lot of decoration. Only thing on the walls are beautiful, artistic black and white photos of people playing jazz or rock or folk. The whole place smells like a forest.

But that’s his house.

Once we go through the backdoor, we are in his garage which is big enough to fit three cars, I’d say.
He only has one in there. I don’t know cars but it looks like some off road monstrosity. The hood is popped open and there are tools everywhere.

It’s the cage that draws my attention.

One side of the garage is empty and clean. There is hardly anything there except for a squared cage that looks big enough for a couple of golden retrievers, and a metallic stand with some tubes and… I don’t know. Toys, maybe? Like sex toys? But it seems he works cars here, so I could be wrong.

He asks for my coat like a gentleman. He takes all my things and places them on a chair in the corner.

Then he opens the cage.

“In you go”

I bat my eyelashes in sheer disbelief.

When he said cage I was thinking prison cell. Or… you know? Something I could stand up in.

That thing isn’t big enough to stand. I will have to sit or crouch.

But I’m already here and I’m already curious.

No Everest for me.

I squeeze through the little door and sit inside before he locks me in.

Somethings I notice: first, there is a really nice cushion which is where I choose to sit because, second, the floor of the cage is weird. It’s like he added on of those mats that massage your feet when you walk on them. You know the ones I mean? With a bunch of ups and downs, like little round bumps of soft plastic you can rub your feet against. They aren’t big enough to annoy me, but aren’t small enough to go unnoticed. Third, there is something strange in the walls of the cage. Some holes that look big enough to put arms or legs through, though not more than that.

I move my hair out of my eyes to look at him, confused as to what he expects me to do next but maybe he expects nothing.

He pulls down his pants and his cock falls out. It’s fat and heavy even though it’s not completely hard.

He barely trims his bush and looks as rough down there as he does up on his face.

“Are you gonna shower?”

“Are you gonna say Everest?”

I don’t and he won’t.

What happens next is not really sexy. He just wanks it in front of me. He seems to be having the time of his life just staring at me in a cage and beating one off. I just watch him do it without saying a word.

When he is about to cum he approaches the cage.

“Open your mouth”

“No”

“You’ll regret it if you don’t”

“Why? You taste like chocolate or something?”

He grins and closes his eyes, taking himself over the edge. He get really close to the cage and cums on my body. I try to escape him, but there’s not enough room and I even end up with some of it on my face.

“Asshole” I complain, cleaning myself.

“Here” he taps the side of the cage after a few moments of heavy breathing “Put your feet in here”

“Why?”

“Because I told you to”

I feel like I’m gonna regret this.

I feel like I’m gonna enjoy this.

I clean the cum off my face and obey him. I put my feet in the places he pointed to (one in each corner of the cage almost) and he cuffs my ankles through the holes in the cage. The cuffs are bound to a leash that go out of the cage and there seems to be enough of a gap around the walls for the leash to be pushed and pulled.

I don’t yet know what all this adds up to, but I’m pretty sure I’m gonna find out.

“Here” he taps the holes in the ceiling and I put my hands through them. He cuffs my wrists as well.

Now I’m bound.

My ankles are tied and spread apart. My hands are cuffed above my head. I am sitting on the weird mat with all the little bumps, but the position is terrible. I am one leaning away from looking like I’m sitting at the GYN.

If my feet were to go up just a little, it would be full gynaecologist.

“Does it hurt?” He asks.

I shake my head. The cuffs are all very soft. The position is weird but not painful.

“Good” he says. Then he pulls the leash and what do you know? My feet go up just enough for the gynaecologist comparisons to be on point, my pussy clashes against the cage wall because I have no control over my body and my hands are still trapped in the ceiling.

So I swing, completely vulnerable. My fingers desperately clasping at the cage bars trying to find some level of steadiness.

There’s another hole in the cage wall right where my pussy landed. A little trap door that Eager conveniently opens.

He has scissors on his hands.

“What are you doing?”

“This goes…” he says to himself and I hear the smooth zip sound of sharp scissors against fragile silk when he cuts my panties across my pussy.

I open my mouth to complain but his grin is right over my pink open flesh, his breath hits me a little and I’m getting wet.

“I said you were gonna regret it. This is what I meant” he picks up one of the tubes from the metallic stand. The lotion. He said something about covering my pussy in lotion and then not fucking me until I begged, right?

He dips two fingers in the tube and spreads a nice chunk of it over my pussy.

This feels nice.

The lotion is warm and so are his fingers. I am having flashbacks of the Stranger when he was first grinding me on the train. He came on me and was spreading his cum on my pussy. This feels similar. Eager is just rubbing oil through my pussy lips and clit, very diligently, making sure I’m completely covered in it.

It’s not a lotion. I meant it does feel almost like a cream, but also like an oil? I don’t know. It’s warm and good and it’s turning me on like crazy.

I am moving my hips, grinding the bars.

“She is liking it” he sings “Won’t last” he adds with a short laugh that feels evil.

He drops the leash and my feet slide back down to the floor. I am sitting on the mat and I already miss having his mouth so close to my flesh.

But he got up. Cleaned his hands and… went back to fixing his car?

What the hell?

I sit there for a few minutes while he whistles some classic rock song. There is nothing in the air besides that but my breathing and the clicking sounds of his tools.

I try to move and find the best position to sit in, which is not easy handcuffed (and… feet cuffed) like that.

And then I feel it.

The warm oil or cream or whatever it was that he dipped my pussy in… it starts warming up. And itching.

Not a bad itch, mind you.

A good itch.

A wonderful itch.

But a fucking itch nevertheless.

One I have zero ways of scratching.

“Is this supposed to be happening?”

“The itch?” He doesn’t even look up from his engine “Yeah. Don’t worry about the lotion. It’s healthy and made to be used like this”

“That’s not the issue I’m currently havin…” I have to swallow that unfinished word cause suddenly the itch gets so bad it’s like I was hard fingered “Ooohh” I whimper.

“Good, uh?”

“Take these cuffs off” I demand.

“Not right now, no”

I pull on all of them but they don’t give. They are intentionally padded not to hurt me, not that I give a fuck. I want them gone. I shake so hard I rattle the cage. Eager looks down at me, enjoying the sight while I am enjoying nothing.

The itch gets so bad I have tears in my eyes.

“I think I might safe word” I warn him.

This time he lets go of his car and comes closer to me, getting ready to release me.

“Up to you”.

But even though my brain doesn’t have an answer for this, my body does.

My hips push my pussy against the bumps on the mat. They work wonderfully to scratch me. Not as much as I’d like, but it’s something.

If I planned on safewording, that plan is now gone.

My eyes are rolling into my head. I am moaning like a good girl being fucked bad, and grinding the mat like an undomesticated animal.

Eager stands there watching me with crossed arms and a grin.

“Are you just gonna watch? Please help me”

“Sure” he opens the cage, pulls my shirt up over my bare tits and closes the cage.

That doesn’t help.

Well, he is hard again. So maybe it helped him.

I have to ride that mat harder than I’d ride a dick cause it doesn’t have the same impact.

But I’d be willing to do just about anything to make that itching stop. It’s like being lightly tickled by a sadists after you’ve been horny for three weeks. It burns. Like someone is lighting up a firecracker against my G spot.

I am so tense the muscles in my stomach hurt.

I am about to scream when Eager pulls the leash on my ankles again, raising my fit GYN-style once more. My pussy is back clashed against the cage and Eager fingers me through the bars.

I didn’t know I was capable of making the sounds I made when his fingers touched me. A growl of pleasure and relief. I feel like an animal. I behave like an animal. Seems appropriate I am also caged like one.

There are so many things in sex we take for granted. We don’t realise how much we rely on them, until we can’t have them. And movement is big one.

I never realised how much moving and arching and twirling and grabbing and clawing and shaking… were part of sex until all those things were removed from the repertoire.

No moving.

No arching.

No twirling.

Well, what the hell do I do with all this pent up energy? Bottled up and building up. A direct consequence of both Satan’s lotion and Eager’s violent fingers, and I can’t tell you which is destroying my pussy faster.

This lotion (I swear to God) makes me feel like every single inch of my insides is being individually fucked at the same time. Like there are a million cocks fucking me, hitting me precisely everywhere at once. If you’re a woman you know how it feels when a man thrusts in and it hits you just write. You feel like jumping up a little. Like saying a little “oh”, and doing a little “moan”, and going for a little ride.

Different spots bring out different reactions. They can all be good, even though they aren’t the same.
This lotion is like feeling them all. At once.

Like Eager is fucking my clit and my G spot. Like he is hitting deep in my pussy without ever leaving the first few inches.

I have no idea what is this fucking lotion, but I clearly need to buy this in bulk: Getting fingered while being soaked in it is sex like I never knew sex could be. I feel like a dog, being scratched behind the ears and just letting its head tilt up on its owner’s hand.

Only I’m not a dog.

And that’s not an innocent scratch.

I push my hips forward, squeezing myself against the bars so Eager can finger me better. I let my head back, while my body swings, almost entirely suspended… and then he drops me.

He drops the leash and my feet go back down. My ass hits the mat and frustration takes over my body.

“No. Please” I gasp when he cleans his hands and walks away “No, no, no” I cry out rubbing my pussy on the mat only to find out that (after having tasted his fingers) the little plastic bumps are no longer enough.

Eager leans against his car and watches me humiliate myself, riding the plastic carpet he had layed out as is I were his little caged pet.

“Pull me back up” I cry, trying to grind the mat but finding no position that will satisfy me “Please, please. Fuck me”

He pushes his pants down the same way he did earlier. I found it not-sexy when he did it not half an hour ago but now I feel my insides burning to be taken “Yes” I moan watching him caress his fat cock.

“Take me, please” the words barely come out.

He jerks off slowly and I know each stroke he gives himself is one stroke my pussy won’t get. I cry, whimper, moan and beg… makes no difference. He pleases himself watching my despair with a peaceful grin, taking more pleasure in my agony than he would in my pussy.

“I told you, you’d regret it” he whispers.

My pussy itches like it’s allergic to itself. I have so many tears in my eyes everything is out of focus.

“I do. I regret it. I’m sorry”

“Good” he approaches the cage the same way he did before. Exactly the same way. Like he is trying to make a point.

I’m the owner.

You’re the thing.

That’s the point.

“Open your mouth” he commands me and this time he gets no resistance.

I open it wide, tongue sticking out and all.

“You don’t want me to shower?” He laughs.

“No. No, no, no, sir” I am pressing my face against the holes on the cage wall, and that’s were he sticks his dick in. I swallow it whole. As much as I can put in my mouth considering the fragility of my position.

His moans now are so much better, like they are saying “yes, you take it now, you fucking whore”. And I take it. As much as I can until I gag. He tastes of man.

“Enough” he takes it away and I was about to actually truly cry if he didn’t pull on the leashes again, putting my feet up before he opened the cage.

He pulled me up so much this time that my whole body jolted in that angle. My face and my tits are pressed against the bars on the ceiling and I taste metal. Ask me if I care? I don’t.

Eager grabs me by the hips only long enough to fuck me with a hoarse moan, then he grabs the cage.

He fucks me hard and there is nothing keeping me steady except for the leashes around my ankles and the cuffs around my hands. If he were to hold me I’d have a little more steadiness, but he doesn’t.
Instead, he keeps his rough hands on the bars, grabbing the cage as if it was part of my body.

I can’t move.

The bars are so tight against my face I can barely speak.

Not that I’d even know what to say.

And here is the thing: when you can’t move or twirl or squeeze or grab or arch or speak… where does all that pent up energy go to? Well… it doesn’t. The build up tension that takes over your body has zero release. So you are forced to feel it.

All of it.

Every bit of every desire is now being held constantly inside your body. There’s nothing you can do to get rid of some of it while you wait for the orgasm.

You have to feel it.

You have to feel it with your vulnerable, powerless body, swinging every which way because that rough beast of a man fucking you, won’t even hold your ass in place.

Everything inside my pussy feels a million times more sensitive (courtesy of the fucking lotion) so when he takes me… me and my whole body filled to the brim with untamed sexual energy… I blow up.

I start cumming the second he pushes himself in and I don’t stop until he does.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt my body shake like that. Or maybe it’s just the cage, trembling all around, victim of his powerful hands.

I spread my legs as much as I can so I can take him as deep as our bodies will let me.

I scream, biting the bars, howling with never-ending moans as the climax keeps going for so many minutes, my body starts to break.

He pinches my nipples through the bars calling me a good girl and a fucking pet, as both those things seem to mean exactly the same to him. I couldn’t be one without the other.

I don’t listen.

The only thing I do is feel. That’s all I can do.

I close my eyes and wait for the orgasm to finally be over while, at the same time, wishing it will last forever.

It takes its toll on me. On my flesh, on my mind, on my soul.

When he finally pulls out and I manage to make my teeth let go of the bar, I’m numb.

My skin pulsates everywhere the cage is touching me, but mostly where the cuffs hold my wrists and ankles in place.

He unties me carefully. Making sure I don’t fall and hurt myself.

I don’t think he needs to worry: I can’t really feel my body anymore.

I think it will be days before I regain some sensations.

He gives me a kiss on the cheek and another on my forehead. He makes sure I’m dressed, gives me some water and finds me a decent place inside his house so I can rest.

But I’d rather just go home so he gives me a ride. He asks me if I am ok and makes me feel… safe.

We are almost at my place when I finally find the energy to ask.

“So what’s that lotion called?”

He laughs. I like his laugh. It’s round and sadist in a way that does it for me.

“If I don’t tell you, you’ll have to come back for more”

“Well, you should expect me then” I shrug and he has a lovely grin of a man who can’t wait.

But maybe he’ll have to.

Because you see, here’s the thing about this damn website: at first, I just joined as a joke. Then I wanted to play out my fantasies. But now… I’m quickly realising I might be into things I never knew existed. And the only way to find them is to look.

So I guess next time I log in… I’m gonna scroll though some requests.

Who knows what I might find?

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