Cage

by Sarah Sparrows

  “All the more for a better match, right?”

  “How so?”

  “I’ve seen you fight, dude! You’re insane! You figure these guys out like it’s nothing! How’s about you go in blind for once, sort everything out when you’re in the cage!”

  “I don’t know, Luke…don’t have the best feeling about that.”

  “Nah, it’s gonna be excellent! The fans are pumped, man! Can you imagine? We might even advertise the fact! Reigning veteran Bonesaw…going in blind! They’ll eat that shit up!”

  “Bonesaw?” Saffron asked from the side.

  I glanced over at her and nodded wearily. I’d almost forgotten that she was listening.

  “Dude, do you have a chick over? That’s awesome! Is she hot?”

  “Better choose your next words carefully, my friend,” I warned him with gritted teeth. “That’s my stepsister you’re talking about.”

  “Oh shit, you’ve got a sister? Why didn’t you ever mention a–”

  “Shut UP, Luke,” I growled. “Look, alright, I’ll do a fight blind. Just this once. But if you pull a stunt like this again, that’s me out for the summer. No more matches in your cage. You got it?”

  “Yeah, yeah man, I get it,” Luke answered sadly. “No more blind bouts. We cool?”

  “We cool,” I muttered, hanging up the line.

  “You’ve never mentioned me?”

  I glanced up. Saffron was standing by the pool, wiping herself dry with a towel. For a split second, I wished I were the towel, before I realized how stupid a thought that was.

  “No,” I answered her. “They never knew anything about you, or our parents, or the life of privilege I left behind…my past was a ghost to them. I have always valued my privacy, after all...”

  She thought on my words, looking troubled for a moment, but before I could say anything she continued pressing. “Did they ever ask?” She was brushing off the side of her head with the towel now, before letting it drape at her side as she walked over.

  “A few times, maybe. I usually shut them down.”

  “I see…”

  My stepsister seemed a lot more comfortable around me. I’d never seen her in a bathing suit, and now she was in her bikini all the time around me. I wasn’t sure what angle she was playing, or if she thought she was just being coy, but it was sending me some seriously mixed signals.

  Just brush it aside, I reminded myself. You wanted this. Just let her have her fun. It’s not going to go anywhere, and the two of you know it.

  “Well, in that case, do I get to see you fight?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “And why not?” She looked disgruntled, but playfully – almost as if she were toying with me. I wasn’t sure if I liked it or not.

  “Because I said no. And you’re supposed to stick around the house, remember?”

  “Sawyer, Dad’s just paranoid. Nothing is going to happen. I’m a grown woman now. You can’t just boss me around.”

  “Are you sure you want to see me like that? In a cage, beating the shit out of some punk? Is that what you want?”

  “Maybe,” she conceded, a mischievous look in her eyes.

  What is her DEAL these days?

  “This isn’t some little high school wrestling match, Saffron. This is an underground cage match. I’m going into a box with a stranger, and our only concerns will be bludgeoning the other until somebody gives up or stays down,” I chided her. “It can get brutal. I’ve spilled blood on more than one occasion…most of them, actually. Faces have been crushed, even mine. It’s probably going to get savage.”

  She hesitated for a moment. “I still want to see it,” my stepsister answered, running her hand along my sweaty arm, feeling the muscles. It sent a ripple of excitement down my spine that I barely controlled. “I’ve spent so long being antagonized by you…I want to see you do it to someone else. I want to see you let all that anger out…and beat someone down with it. That’s what I want.”

  I became highly aware of my breathing, but kept myself in restraint. She was only in a tiny little bikini…oh, what I would have given to show her what I could do with my body.

  It would have been easy to pluck those strings and toss the minimal fabric aside, carry her over to the pool, and drop between her thighs as she sat on the edge. I’d dig my fingertips into her thighs on either side, lapping away at those delicious juices from her wet pussy…and then I’d take her over to that sunbathing chair she loved so much, shove her down onto all fours over it, and fuck her like an animal.

  Maybe I’d even finish up by bringing her around to the front, where we were technically in the open and almost anyone could come down the driveway, and put her on her knees. I’d have my thick cock down her throat, making her polish her own wetness off of my rock-hard erection before she swallowed it all…

  “Sawyer,” she mumbled, and I followed her gaze.

  Shit. What the fuck is wrong with me?

  I had an unmistakable erection, tenting my boxing shorts. I hesitated, considering pulling her onto her knees or into my grasp, but she withdrew her hand from my arm and turned away. I spun around and fixed myself, cursing my active imagination. Why NOW? Why couldn’t I just jack it later to these thoughts?

  “Listen, I…I’m going to go inside,” she muttered quickly, walking towards the entrance. “But I do want to see you fight.”

  “Fat chance of that,” I told her.

  Yeah. Fat chance of a lot of things.

  (Return to Table of Contents)

  Chapter 15 – Saffron

  Pensacola, Present Day

  Luckily, I had already learned everything that I needed to in order to watch Sawyer fight. He had carelessly mentioned during the conversation that the fight was the upcoming Saturday; I had already deduced where it was probably going to happen, which was New Horizons. If I was wrong, well, all I had to do was keep an eye my smartphone the night of the match, and follow wherever his motorcycle went.

  I felt incredibly guilt when he reminded me how much he valued his privacy…but I’d deal with the ramifications of my actions later. I knew I had to see him fight. That toned, incredible body, battling it out in the cage against another athletic body… Besides, it might be fun watching him get hit upside the head a few times.

  But it was more than just the aesthetic appeal of watching two shirtless guys beat the crap out of each other. It was because it was Sawyer. We had fallen into some unspoken truce, and now we were always around each other – he’d find an excuse to watch me swim, and I’d do the same to watch him train. I had only planned on getting into the pool a few times while we were down here, considering the ocean was close – but now, it thrilled me, knowing that he was paying attention – even if he was trying to hide it.

  We didn’t talk about it to one another. It was better that way.

  But I didn’t even try to lie to myself anymore. My stepbrother was absolutely hot. When he opened up to me, he showed me something new, something I hadn’t seen before…tenderness. Compassion. I mean, he already had a stunning figure, but seeing this new side of him seemed to go a long way with me.

  And I almost gave in, when I noticed how erect he was at my touch. It crossed my mind to just go for it, stroking him through his shorts.

  But that was dangerous.

  Look, don’t touch, I thought to myself. Even if it weren’t wrong…even if you’d be fine living a double life under your parents’ noses…he’s abandoned you before.

  He’d emotionally betrayed me in the past. Nothing would stop him from doing it again, and while I was willing to entertain a fantasy or two for the time being…I still wasn’t willing to give him that power over me. If I let him do that and walk out on me again, chasing some bullshit dream of being a man or whatever he was doing…it would shatter me to my very core.

  And that’s why I had backed away.

  But the fight was an opportunity to see the man that Sawyer had really become. He’d never let me see that side of him,
how vicious he could be when it was just him against some other fighter, determined to beat him into complete submission.

  That was the real Sawyer.

  If what he said was true, he was a careful, powerful fighting machine. He’d mentioned that he got into a sort of “zone”, and I figured it was some kind of zen trance. He’d never call it that, obviously, but he made it sound like he shut off his head and let instinct take over.

  I had to see it. I’d never seen Sawyer for what he really was – he’d only shown me the same old bullshit antagonism up until now, and while I liked the open, friendlier Sawyer – it still wasn’t what he really was, not completely. Maybe it was closer to the truth than what he’d let me see, but the darkness inside him was still foreign to me. It was this mysterious, carefully guarded secret that he was determined to keep from my sight.

  Well, you don’t get to decide that, I told myself as the night approached. I have every right to see what sort of man I’m spending months alone with.

  In the meantime, I kept myself occupied. Now that I was somewhat more comfortable with Sawyer, I was willing to make the logical next step. After all, it was a long summer, I’d been reading a ton of books already, and what else was there to do?

  I withdrew my vibrator from the hidden little spot in my bathroom – after all, I didn’t need Sawyer coming in here for whatever reason and discovering the stupid thing. With a little bit of fresh lube to help get things going, I lay down in bed and started to fantasize.

  My go-to was a daydream about Sawyer and that training bag of his. He’d punch the ever-living daylights out of the bag as I relaxed in the pool, eating up the eye candy. Maybe I’d slip up onto the ground surface, dripping with water, and pick up a towel to dry my hair. He’d watch me with a hungry, primal state, and I’d bring the damp towel over to him and dry him off with it.

  He’d stand there and let me feel his body through the towel, staring me intently in the eyes as his erection noticeably grew. I’d continued to towel him off slowly, until I finally let the towel fall to the wayside. My fingers would hungrily trace his muscles, sliding up those impossibly strong arms and trailing down his washboard abs. He would place his hand on my shoulder, and as my fingertips graced the top of his boxer shorts, he’d tug my hair hard, exposing my throat for him.

  His lips would find my neck, tracing with his tongue up to my ear, but he’d push me down onto my knees.

  “Pull it out,” he’d command.

  I’d understand what he needed, and reach down into his boxer shorts. His weapon would be already at attention, and I’d pull it free, dropping his shorts to his ankles.

  “Go ahead,” he’d tell me.

  I’d part my lips around the bulb of his cock, driving my lips down. My hot, wet mouth would welcome him in – a pale imitation of what was to come. His hands would wrap around my head, forcing me to take more and more of him in. My lips would bob on his cock, sucking him down, until he gasped and groaned and released his seed down into my throat.

  But it wouldn’t stop there. He’d unpluck my strings, letting my bikini fall to the ground, but then lift me up over his hardened shoulder and carry me inside. While I continued to drip from the pool everywhere, he’d carry me through the house and outside to his motorcycle. He’d place me down beside it, coercing my hands down onto the seat, and demand that I hold onto it – but keep the machine from bouncing off of its kickstand with the force of our motions.

  He’d line his thick, juicy cock up with my wet pussy – still lathered with my saliva – and shove it deep inside me.

  I’d gasp, clutching onto his ride as he in turn rode me; my body would welcome him inside, and his hands would clasp onto me. One hand would reach forward and grasp my shoulder; the other would clench into my hip. While he held me in place and thundered his pelvis against mine, I’d let out a series of moans, completely content that the driveway was a substantial distance to the road.

  He’d pull me back against him, his arms wrapping around my body and keeping me close; his hand would clasp around my mouth now, and I’d taste the salt on his skin as his fingers partially entered my mouth. He’d hold me out towards the road, showing me off as we fucked, until I finally succumbed to my climax against him. Once I finished trembling, he’d continue to use my body for a few minutes, maybe on all fours in the grass, until he finally came again.

  The fantasy was awesome, but I found myself stopping most of the way through. It just wasn’t doing anything for me. I knew that I couldn’t have him – and I knew that I couldn’t trust him. He had already proven to me how he rewarded trust, and I had spent five years trying to live without him in the meantime.

  Great, I sighed, pulling the vibrator free, mulling over how long I was going to lay in bed feeling sorry for myself before I cleaned it off. I finally start accepting that I lust for the guy, and I can’t even bring myself to finish.

  (Return to Table of Contents)

  Chapter 16 – Sawyer

  Pensacola, Present Day

  The night of the fight was the first time that I’d been nervous since the announcement. Something felt wrong; I couldn’t directly put my finger on it, but there was an air of mounting tension all around me. It threatened to choke me, forcing itself into my lungs.

  Quit it, I thought to myself as I sat in the waiting room, waiting for the signal. Stop psyching yourself out. There’s no reason to lose the match before it starts.

  When the referee appeared through the door, it was a familiar face from the early days at this venue. I followed Vinnie into the ring, hanging around the opposite side in anticipation of my contender. Vinnie was quite a character – thin as a mop, he was an upper-forties Italian guy with leathery skin, a full head of hair, and a thick brush of a moustache. I’d seen brooms with less structural integrity than that proud bush he kept beneath his nose.

  “I’m surprised you’re still around,” I told him.

  “Heh. It’s a job. Welcome back, amico.”

  “Same to ya.”

  We hovered around for a moment in the cage, waiting on my opponent. I’d always met my fighter before the brawl – sort of an unspoken “Friends out here, fighters in there” sort of arrangement. The general camaraderie of the underground sport dictated a certain degree of mutual respect, regardless of whatever happened. It’s how we kept things civil. But Luke had changed the rules for this one, and all I had to go off was the name.

  Vinnie checked his watch. Something was wrong.

  “Paging Jabberjaw!” He boomed out, over the rustling of the crowd. “I repeat, paging Jabberjaw, coward apparent of the New Horizons Cage! Jabberjaw, if you’re in the building, quit wasting my fucking time!”

  The crowd gazed around, but nobody seemed to be stepping up. Vinnie and I shared a quick look, and Luke started to subtly panic in the front. He was calculating what to do – there’d never been a no-show, and he was wondering if he’d have to request a volunteer from the audience.

  In hindsight, that might have been a good draw, too. Step right up! Challenge the underground cage fighting legend, Bonesaw! Only at the New Horizons Cage on Saturday nights!

  “Luke, is this guy even here?” I called over to him.

  “Yeah, I just saw him not ten minutes ago…”

  Vinnie had met the end of his patience, and boomed out another hefty call. “Last call for the yellow-bellied Jabber–”

  Someone pushed out through the front, near the stairs. Vinnie stepped over and let him in, and I finally got a good look at my mystery opponent. As the gate closed behind him, he turned to face me with a familiar smirk.

  “Recognize me, Fucker?”

  The realization dawned on me. “Slippery Pete.”

  “That’s right, shit-stain…” My old friend grinned evilly. He’d grown his hair out and dyed it black, but as soon as the dots connected he was unmistakably the ghost from my past. “You done gone and pissed me off, yeah? Payback’s gonna be a total bitch…”

  “Payback? For what?�
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  “It should have been YOU! YOU should have been in the ring when the police came, not ME! You think I didn’t notice you disappear right before the fucking raid? They took EVERYTHING from us!” He bristled with rage as he said his bit, ignoring the crowd, Vinnie, any of them. “The whole place goes down and you fucking got away scott-free. You know how long I’ve been in prison?”

  I realized what it must have felt like – down on the ground, handcuffed.

  “I wasn’t the one who sold us out,” I said angrily, “I climbed out a fucking window and ran for it.”

  “What, so you’re a fuckin’ coward now? You think that makes it better?”