Page 11 of Caged By the Stranger
I’m so hard now, my tip is pressed up against the end of the cage, nearly bulging out of the opening. It should be obscene, but the longer I blink through the sensations of rapture, the more the sight turns me on. A cock—a bulging, pressurized cock, pleading silently to come. If my nuts draw up any higher, I might pass out.
“Come. Please. Please come.”
How those are words leaving my mouth, I don’t understand. I never talk when I masturbate. I barely even talk when I’m with a guy.
That delicious buzzing is criminal. I can feel it all the way down to my toes like a string is connected between my cock and my appendages. Ihave tobe close. I have to. I can’t take the pressure much longer.
I thought it was just my thighs that were quivering, but I realize it’s because I’ve been trying to hold still and not look like a feral animal with blue balls. I give up the fight and let my hips rock. It’s so bizarre. Thrusting like I’m fucking isn’t going to help me achieve release, but instinct has taken over, instinct and a week of being deprived of release and teased to the point of torment.
“Come on. Uhn. Come on,” I grunt, gritting my teeth through the tightening pressure.
I can feel every centimeter of the cable around my sac, cinching my swollen flesh tighter. Its cruel message is ‘no,’ while my body is screaming ‘yes.’ I freaking sound like I’m winded, my heart hammering against my ribcage. All my muscles are locked up the way they usually get right before I release. Ihaveto come soon. Any second now. Even my ass muscles are clenched in anticipation of the impending glory. Kneading my fingertips into one cheek, I grip a handful, hoping to alleviate at least one point of tension in my body.
My hips jerk like I have no control over them. My pucker twitches so violently, I slam my eyes shut.
Shit. My eyes just crossed from touching my ass. That’s…so fucking weird. I’m not an ass guy. This has to stop before I either pass out or my nuts burst, but not in the good way. Sucking in a breath, I ease my index finger lower. I can’t believe I’m even contemplating this. I know it’s not going to feel good, but there’s this incessant hungry need growing inside my hole. Grazing thepad of my finger between my cheeks, a loud moan falls from my lips.
“Aw, fuck. Yeah.” They’re hopeful words, encouraged by the jolt of bliss that charges through me at that simple touch. “Please,” I add, because apparently, I don’t care what comes out of my mouth anymore.
Scrambling for my nightstand drawer, I grab my bottle of lube. Fumbling it open with one hand, I don’t dare release my grip on the shaver and the cage. With my luck, stopping would send me into some further kind of delayed release effect from this cage. The liquid squirts all over the damn place, dribbling down my hand and onto the sheets. If I don’t get this thing off me by the time the cruise is over, I’m going right back to Illusion and waiting outside the door until they let me talk to the owner.
Finger slick, I pinch my eyes closed and try to focus on the pleasure and not the memories of discomfort this once brought me. Pressing against my ring, it’s strange how hot it feels against my fingertip. It’s strange how much it feels like my digit could be a thin cock. It’s even more strange that there’s this gnawing ache deep inside me, like it wants to feel a thin cock reach out and touch it. Blowing out a breath, I press back onto my fingertip on another animalistic thrust of my hips. Too animalistic…
“Uhn… F-fuck. Ah!”
Hot waves of breath flood from my open mouth like I’ve just run a sprint. I feel it. I can feel my prostate and let out a delirious sound, almost like a laugh. Vibrations in the front and heaven in the back—this is beyond surreal. I don’t dare open my eyes, not that I’d be able to see what I look like locked up while impaled on my own damn finger. I’m beyond caring because I think I’ve finally found the secret to my success.
All I hear for the next few minutes is buzzing and unholy wanton sounds that don’t sound like they belong to me. My hand is starting to cramp. I can feel a sheen of sweat on my chest andat the small of my back, but I let my body do what the urges demand. Riding and buzzing. Buzzing and riding. It’s hell, and it’s the edge of a bliss I might actually kill for.
“Yeah. Please! Please!”
Some part of my hazy brain comprehends the complete neediness that’s taken over me. The pitiful desperation is something akin to submissiveness. There’s no one here to be submissive to but the just-out-of-reach pleasure. Yet even that stoic shred of me that’s still somewhere online is forgiving. The needier I sound, the more I give over, and the closer I feel to coming. The further away from my stressors. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt this…light.
My back arches as though something’s possessed me. The cage bucks in my grip. I open my eyes, but my vision is blurry as a wave of pressure rushes up through my cock and my gland spasms against my fingertip.
It’s an orgasm like I’ve never experienced. There’s a plume of pleasure in my channel that has me twitching and trying to see straight. And yet…my cock is softening like its job is done. I can feel it easing away from the end of the cage. I don’t understand…
When my eyes finally focus again, I click the shaver off and let it fall from my numb hand. Precum is dribbling from the end of the cage into a small pool on my sheets. Something crippling grips the pit of my stomach and my heart. It feels…a lot like sadness.
Fuck. I’m soft. It’s over.
It can’t be over. That can’t be all there was.
And yet, it seems like it would be greedy to want more, because that was something epic. My weak legs collapse, leaving me sitting on my heels as I stare at my entombed cock and my swollen sac. A sound pierces the silence. I ignore it the first time while my brain tries to make heads or tails of the bliss I justexperienced and how it can be followed by this soul-crushing sensation of disappointment.
I weep again with more volume, and a tear tracks down my cheek. It’s not disappointment that’s imprisoning my emotions right now. It’s…yearning.
I need…him.
I can’t fucking explain it. Fifteen minutes ago, I would never have thought those words. Whatever trying to achieve release in this stranger’s cage just did to me, however, is pummeling me with the cruelest sensation yet. If I thought I was breathing hard a moment ago, this epiphany has me damn near hyperventilating now. Because… because some foreign part of me feels like it wouldn’t mind weeping and begging all night if it meant some knight would rescue me from his shining armor.
CHAPTER 6
This cruise just had to start in Hawaii. A fucking island. Of all the shit I worried about this week, I completely forgot about the process of going through airport security. The mental image of that TSA worker’s expression as he looked at my body scan will haunt me for the rest of my days. Eyes pinched shut, he shook his head and waved me on like I was too big of a pervert to question. Does that mean he sees cock cages all the time or that he’d already dealt with enough weird shit for one day before I came along?
Huffing, I grimace at my reflection in my cabin’s mirror. Of course, I can tell the cage is there behind my cargo shorts. The question is, will everyone else, or am I just being self-conscious? The entire flight from Seattle to Honolulu had me squirming in my seat, wondering if the smiles from the flight attendants were a mockery because of my secret. This thing has now gone beyond affecting my sex drive. It’s making me paranoid.
At least Carmen and Niel, two salespeople from other regions that I linked up with at the Honolulu airport, didn’t seem to notice on the drive to the harbor. Not even the overwhelming size of this superyacht when we made our way down the docks was able to make me forget my reality, though.
