“There,” I say. “Good as new.”
Once the orgasm subsided, I knew I had to get to work before she gave out on me. It turns out I didn’t actually cut off that much of her tit, but to be honest, the bitch never had more than a handful anyway.
I slam the top of the cage shut, then slap the lock together and sit on the edge of my bed.
“Get on your hands and knees,” I bark.
The meat hole flips around, more obedient now than she’s ever been, and I rub my dick through my pants as I stare at her. Her tits are clean—I mean, her only whole tit is clean—but the rest of her body, including her face, is streaked with dirt, snot, and blood. I should wash her, though it seems like a lot of work right now, especially after the stitches.
A low hum drifts into the house, the mechanical noises rippling through the rooms.
Mona’s body shifts.
My teeth snap together, and I know what she’s thinking.
A car.
Cars rarely come down this way. Even the dump trucks drive in the other direction. If it was a car though, this could be her only chance.
It’s not a car though. It’s the echoes of the compactors restarting at the landfill. I know the sound well. Still, the hope erupts in her eyes, and her chin shudders in panic. My cock thickens in fascination.
“Help me!” she yells. “Please help?—”
My upper lip curls into smugness. “Please” isn’t a word I’ve ever heard from her mouth. It’s not like Mona to ask for something, but I guess when you’re stuck in a cage, your breast is hacked to shit, a sliver of your labia is chopped off, and a monster like me holds the key to your confinement, you don’t have much room to be entitled or demanding anymore.
The machinery dribbles into white noise, and her lips keep shaking.
“That was the landfill,” I murmur, cutting off her cries. “No one is coming to save you. After all, no one can hear you. You know that, right, my little morsel?”
Her pleading words transform into a blood-curdling scream. My cock bobs, yearning for more of that fear.
“You fight too much,” I laugh. “You shouldn’t waste your energy on that.”
A tear rolls down her cheek. Her eyes stay on the floor. I like that.
Blood expands in my vessels, and my chest pounds. Fuck me, I really like that. I don’t know if she’s avoiding eye contact with me because she’s scared or petulant, but my dick is harder than a boulder, and fuck, I’m feeling so powerful right now.
I unzip, then thrust my dick in one of the cage’s openings. There are many reasons why I bought this cage in particular, and the most amusing reason is the fact that my big dick can actually fit through the openings. Technically, I can fuck her while she’s inside of it.
Mona stays perched on all fours with her ass against the side of the cage. The crown of my cock dips inside of her warmth, and her heat sucks me in, but she remains lifeless, a rotting corpse.
I want more from her.
I move my hips forward in a sharp jerk. “Are you scared now?” I ask. “Tell me.”
I smack my hips against the cage again, aching more for her tight heat, but my thrusting is a rhythmic drum without a song, and her pussy stays flaccid and bored. Like she’s playing dead.
Irritation froths in my mouth, but I push it down. I’ll get what I want out of her. I don’t care what it takes.
“Answer me!” I shout.
Her shoulders harden. “You just told me to stop fighting, dumbass.”
I freeze with my tip inserted inside of her. Mona stiffens. She has a good point though. I like the idea of keeping her caged like a wild animal, but our time is precious. I can’t waste these last moments keeping her confined.
I want her to fight me.
I also want her to understand that she can’t get away.