My Loud Mouth

Everyone is 18 and consenting.

A few weeks into freshman year, dorm life already had a rhythm. Wake up, gym with my roommate, Liam. Shower, sometimes together, sometimes not (the showers were communal). Homework. Game. Jack off. Repeat. A couple nights a week I would see my girlfriend, since she went to college nearby.

It wasn’t complicated. Liam and I were close enough to be naked around each other, no big deal. Once or twice I caught myself comparing. Liam was big. Thick. His downstairs sometimes made me glance longer than I should have, but it never seemed weird. I once told him, “Nice cock, bro,” and that was it.

While drinking one night at a party, I was standing next to Liam as he, also drunk, started grilling me about why I was with a girlfriend when I could be banging whoever I wanted in college. I confessed to being a sub bitch for her, cock cage, strap on, dildos in my ass, all of that. And that I wouldn't get that shit from just any girl. I proceeded to black out and completely forget about saying it, but Liam remembered.

When I woke up the next day, all I remembered was having felt super horny while talking to Liam, and definitely making a fool of myself, pulling out my dick for sure at the party. Beyond that, no memory of the night. 

The next weekend, my girlfriend admitted to cheating on me, and I was pretty devastated. She wouldn’t tell me who it was, just saying I didn’t know him, and that hurt even more somehow. I didn’t know what was going to happen with us, but it would never be the same. I didn’t feel like going out, and Liam didn’t push. We stayed in, crushed some drinks, and played Smash Bros. That’s when my loud, drunk mouth came back to bite me in the ass.

“Loser wears a chastity cage,” he said casually, flicking through the character select.

“What even is that?” I tried to laugh.

He gave me this look. Confident, smug. “Did you forget you told me you had one? You explained the whole thing, drunk out of your mind.”

I blinked. My stomach dropped. Somewhere deep in my foggy brain, I remembered flashes, his face, me talking too much, getting way too turned on by the attention.

“That was just with Jenna,” I muttered. My voice cracked a little.

“So what? Let’s do it,” he said. “It’ll be fun, bro. Take your mind off things.”

Something told me he was up to something, but somehow, in my morose sense of self pity, I did want to do something weird and new. His change in demeanor was making me curious. I let myself get roped in, nodding silently like I wasn’t sure if it was a joke or not. But when he quickly beat me in the next round, it got real.

“Alright, man,” he said, leaning back with a grin. “Strip. Let’s see it.”

I hesitated, then fumbled with my waistband. My heart was pounding. My hands were sweaty. I’d worn the cock cage before, sure, but never in front of someone besides Jenna. Definitely not a guy. And definitely not Liam, basically my best friend in college already.

He watched, unbothered, as I pulled down my shorts and underwear. I was rocking a firm erection from the nerves of what we were doing. "It has a mind of its own," I said. Liam rand a hand through his dark brown, curly hair. He bent over slightly, like he was inspecting me. He was about six foot four, compared to my six foot one, so he had more distance to travel to see whatever he was looking for.

"Where's the thing?" he asked, looking at my cock like he was curious about it.

"Oh, it's... here," I said, reaching under my bed for a little nylon bag of freaky shit. I was notable aware of my cheeks spreading apart when I bent over, showing my hairless hole to him. I pulled out the cock cage and showed it to him.

"But..." I hesitated, "I can't put it on hard."

"So jerk off," he said casually. I felt my insides turn upside down at the suggestion. What the fuck is going on? I thought to myself.

"Ok," I said, waiting for him to tell me he was kidding, but he didn't. I started slowly rubbing my shaft, squeezing the pink tip firmly. In a minute I was ready, and I grabbed a pair of underwear off the floor, and squirted my load onto it, right in front of Liam. When I milked the last drop out, I wiped off my cock and hand, and dropped the rag on the floor.

"You're still hard," he said, "go again."

I looked him in the eye, feeling my cheeks get even redder, and started again. I used the remnants of my cum as lube, and jerked off again in front of him, as he watched curiously. I normally wouldn’t be able to go again that quickly, but I came in two minutes this time, and was finally soft enough to put on the cock cage. I put it on as quickly as I could before I got hard again.

When I snapped it in place, the tightness was instant. He leaned in and gave it a little wiggle with his finger. I nearly jumped.

“Dude,” I groaned, my face burning, looking down at his finger jostling my caged junk.

He just laughed, pocketing the key from my desk like it was his. “How long you think you can last?”

“I’ve never had it on for more than a few hours,” I mumbled.

“I’m sure you can manage more than that,” he said deviously. His entire demeanor had changed, and I stood there naked and vulnerable, wearing only the cock cage, as he just walked out of my room.

I went to bed shortly after, but couldn't sleep as I thought about everything that happened. I needed to jerk off again, but my cock was locked away. I grabbed one of my dildos, something I normally only used with Jenna, but without her in my life, I might as well get used to fucking myself. I went at myself for probably an hour, wondering if I could have the elusive anal orgasm, but found it impossible. I couldn't do it without her body pressing against me, calling me a good boy. Even at eighteen, that was the phrase that always got me.

—[]—

When I woke up the next day, my morning wood ached like hell inside the cage. I stumbled into the bathroom and tried to piss, but it was pointless. Everything just strained against the metal. I gave up and stepped into the shower to let the water hit me and rinse it away as I pissed all over myself.

While I was rinsing off, Liam walked in like it was nothing. He stood at the toilet and started pissing, totally unbothered.

I tried not to look, but I did. He was bigger than me. I already knew that, but seeing it again, relaxed and hanging low like that, it hit different. He was even bigger than any dildo I had owned. I could tell he was half hard, probably a remnant of his own morning wood. I was jealous of his freedom as I ached in my cage.

He caught me staring but didn’t say anything about it.

“How’s it going?” he asked casually.

“Bad, dude.”

“Too bad,” he said with a grin. “Maybe you’ll start to like it.”

I watched him shake his thick shaft, but instead of putting it away, he dropped his pajama pants completely, and took off his shirt. I felt a pang in the pit of my stomach, but I didn't even know why I was so afraid. Then he stepped into the shower with me, sliding the glass door closed. His big dick was imposing in this tight space, and somehow, I had felt so submissive to him ever since he took possession of the key to my cock cage. I just stood there, waiting to see what he was gonna do. He stepped up to me, his body almost touching mine. He looked down and inspected me like he owned me. He started poking my sides.

"You gotta work out more," he said, pointing out the obvious difference in our size. I was pretty skinny, whereas he had the muscles of an athlete. I just nodded, accepting the criticism. He turned me around and inspected my back, then my ass. He rubbed it lightly before slapping it. I felt surreal. I hadn't been touched by anyone but my girlfriend in a long time, but the bizarre thing was that I was letting him do what he wanted by some instinct. It was like as soon as I put on the cock cage, I became a different person. And I guess I'm submissive, even for guys, depending on the situation.

"You can get out of the shower now," he said. 

"Ok," I said, and he slapped my ass on the way out. 

I reached for a towel, but he stopped me. "You don't need that."

I stopped for a second, puzzled, when he turned his face back to the water and closed his eyes, saying, "you can just air dry."

This was getting weird, but I had to admit to myself that I felt my crotch tingle every time he gave me a command. I think he knew it. I just stood in the bathroom until I stopped dripping, while he showered. As I walked out, I turned to see him washing his big cock, vigorously.

I went to my dresser to grab some clothes, and found my underwear drawer empty. I opened the next drawer down to confirm my suspicions, and found it empty as well. For good measure, I opened every drawer, looked under my bed, and in my closet. Not a single article of clothing, clean or dirty, remained in my room. I walked back out to our living room to find him leaving the bathroom, completely naked, still dripping a bit.

"Where are my—" I started before he cut me off.

"Your clothes?" he said with irony, "You won't need them. No class til Monday."

I was wracking my brain to figure out why I was consenting to this, and why I liked it. I knew I was a sub. I pretty much only watched strap-on porn, but this was a dude. Was it his big dick that was fucking me up, or his big dick energy? Either way, I found myself consenting to more degeneracy with every passing minute since he started holding my key. 

"Ok..." I said, trying to put things together in my head.

"But," he said, "if you're interested, you can earn back one piece at a time so you hopefully have a full set by Monday."

Hopefully?? The word stuck with me. He had no limits, and I had dug myself a deep hole by agreeing to this. "How do I earn them?"

"I'm sure we'll figure something out," he said, before walking his naked, muscular ass into his room and shutting the door behind him. A few minutes later, he left the house, locking his room on the way out, no doubt to prevent me from trying to get my clothes back. 

I played on my computer most of the day. Every time I got the "itch", and scratched my balls a bit, which normally precedes a quick wank sesh, my stomach burned when I remembered the cage. I looked down at my cock compressed in it. I started wiggling it around, but accomplished nothing more than slightly tickling myself. I was startled by a voice from my doorway.

"That's not gonna get it done," said Liam, with a cocky grin on his face. 

I covered myself before I realized there was no reason to do so, and looked at him, my cheeks turning red again. “No, it’s not.” 

He walked into his room, and I sat there, my balls feeling as heavy as ever. I had never gone a full day without jerking off, and it was starting to kill me. I was wracking my brain about what to do, when I heard noises coming from his room. It was porn, and he had left his door open. I peeked around the corner into his doorway. He was sitting in his desk chair, shirt on and nothing else, his muscles tensed as he stroked his unfairly large cock. I had never looked directly at it while it was hard before. It really was mesmerizing. 

He looked up at me. "Want to earn your first piece of clothing back?"

My mouth opened, but no sound came out. I wasn't sure if he was joking, but at this point it was clear he had no limits, and I was finding that my submissiveness matched his domineering streak. I stepped into the room. The glow from his monitor lit the side of his face, casting shadows over his jaw and collarbone. I stood there awkwardly, unsure what the next move was.

He looked me up and down, then patted his thigh. "Come sit. Just chill. No pressure."

I walked over slowly, my legs stiff. The cage pressed tight as I sat on the edge of his knee, not quite touching him. My body was on fire with nerves and curiosity. He grabbed my hips and pulled me fully onto his lap, showing off our size difference, until my thigh was pressing into his balls, and his giant shaft was pushing against my side. His fist rubbed against me as he continued to stroke himself.

"You ever just... let go?" he asked, cryptically, still watching the screen.

"I guess," I said.

He didn’t say anything after that. He just shifted slightly so our bodies were pressed even more tightly together. I felt the heat from his skin and tried not to think about how badly I wanted to be out of the cage. He kept stroking, slow and deliberate, making me ache with jealousy. I stayed still, but every second made my pulse race faster.

Eventually, he took his left hand off the laptop trackpad. "Pick the next video. Let’s see what you’re into."

I stared at the screen for a second, then at him. I could feel the pressure mounting in my chest and below. There was a tension in the air that was more than just physical, it was straight up psychological. I scrolled slowly through the thumbnails, each more graphic than the last, until I landed on one that made him smirk. I clicked on it. The video started after a short ad. It was a dude getting fucked by a milf with a strap-on.

"Interesting choice," he said, smirking, watching the screen curiously.

I leaned back slightly, our skin now fully touching from shoulder to thigh. My cage ached, throbbing with every subtle motion.

I reached over slowly, resting my hand on his thigh. He glanced at me but didn’t stop. My fingers inched closer until I wrapped them gently around his shaft, matching his rhythm. There was plenty of room for both our hands on him. My hand looked small against his large shaft. My fingers didn’t even wrap all the way around it. It was like holding a Pringles can. He let out a soft breath and leaned back a little more, removing his hand and giving me room. The sensation of touching him, of being part of this strange, charged moment, made the cage feel even tighter.

I kept going, tentative but steady, eyes fixed on what my hand was doing. He didn’t guide me or rush me. He just let me explore.

He turned back to the screen but reached over and rested a hand lightly on my leg. I swallowed hard. Every part of my body was in a surreal state of buzzed. I wasn’t sure what game we were playing anymore, but I was leaning into it, just to see what would happen.

He leaned in, his breath just barely brushing my ear. "That feels good, bro," he whispered, his tone firm. I didn’t respond. My throat felt tight, and the cage throbbed worse than ever. I stroked him faster as his balls bounced with the pace of my hand.

He leaned back further in his chair, while I continued stroking him as best I could, and he looked at me with this calm, amused confidence. Something inside me twisted. I kept my hand moving, but my brain was spinning. Why did this feel so natural? So easy? I was supposed to be straight. I was supposed to be grieving my ex. But here I was, naked and wearing a cock cage, jerking off my roommate, worshiping his giant cock like some barely legal twitter femboy.

He looked at me again, smirking slightly. "I'm never gonna finish from that, by the way."

I froze. I knew what he meant. I felt the pressure shift in the room. He didn't say anything else, but his eyes stayed locked on mine.

It took some courage, but I got off his lap. My knees hit the floor, and I slowly leaned in. My face was right up against it now. I stared, afraid of how easy this was for me. Afraid of how much I wanted it.

I wasn’t just playing along anymore. I was curious. I was scared. And I liked it.

I leaned in. I licked the base, sort of licking his scrotum at the same time. He breathed out heavy. I sniffed his nuts, breathing in his musk. It was deep and earthy, masculine. He smelled more like a man than me. I hesitated for a second, then opened my mouth and tried to get the head in. It stretched my mouth wide, more than I expected, and it hurt my jaw a little. Still, he didn’t push or say anything.

I kept going, slowly, awkwardly. It wasn’t good, not by any technical standard, but he didn’t complain. His hand rested on the arm of the chair, and he just let me try.

I continued licking and stroking as best I could, but something told me this wasn’t going to make him finish either. Eventually, he was going to need to take matters into his own hands. My mind drifted back to the night before, to my attempts with the dildo when I was alone. I wondered if maybe having him do it, for real, could push me over the edge.

“You wanna try to fuck me?” I blurted out before I even realized what I was saying.

He chuckled, leaning his head back. “You really are a different person when you’re wearing that thing.”

I swallowed, heart racing. “I think you’re a different person when you’re holding that key.”

“Fair enough,” he said, then stood up and reached down. He picked me up under the arms like I weighed nothing, and tossed me onto his bed. I didn’t realize how strong he actually was until he did that. 

He left the room and came back with my lube. He must have remembered where I kept the freak bag. By the time he returned, he was already slicking up his heavy shaft, his hand gliding over it with a focused calm that only made my nerves spike.

I lay back on the bed, legs lifted, watching him. I was scared of how it was going to feel, but I also knew, if he lasted long enough, it would eventually feel good. The last person to give me an anal orgasm was Jenna. Maybe all the times she called me a "faggot" while pounding my ass had seeped into my brain.

Because at this moment, there was nothing I wanted more than to be fucked by my roommate.

He climbed onto the bed, straddling over me for a second before nudging my legs further apart. I could barely breathe. My heart was hammering in my ears. He looked at me like he was checking in without needing to ask.

I nodded quickly.

He lined himself up, and I felt the head of it, warm and slick, as he guided himself down. I tensed at first. When the head popped in, it burned, stretched in a familiar way, except bigger than any toy I'd ever had shoved up there. But he was slow, patient, easing in a bit at a time.

My hands gripped his waist, tight against my skin, and I held my breath. I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to push him away or pull him deeper. But he kept watching me, steady and calm, until I adjusted.

When I finally let out a shaky breath, he smiled.

"There you go."

It didn’t feel good yet, but I knew it would. And I was determined to get there.

He started to move, just a little at first. I gasped. The friction was unreal, my whole body reacting to the rhythm he was building. Each slow push sent tingles through me, even as the cage ached with pressure that had nowhere to go. I was pinned in more ways than one, beneath him, and under his gaze, held captive by the metal and the moment.

He leaned down until his chest hovered just over mine, his breath warm on my neck. I felt his hands slide beneath my thighs, lifting them higher, adjusting the angle. The sensation deepened.

“That good?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I whispered, my voice hoarse. I wrapped my arms around his muscular, jock body.

He nodded, lips brushing against my jaw but never quite kissing me. I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to. I wasn’t sure of anything, except that I didn’t want him to stop.

The bed creaked under us, a soft rhythm building in the otherwise quiet room. I gripped the sheets, jaw slack, my eyes fluttering with every deep press of him inside me. Every time he bottomed out, I felt the ghost of a moan rise up, but I kept it in.

I didn’t know if this made me gay. I didn’t know what it made me at all. But I was a freak, and I was starting to love it.

Every push sent waves through my body, a strange blend of pain, pressure, and this creeping heat that kept building. The metal cage tightened with every pulse. My moans stayed mostly silent, caught behind my teeth, but inside I was screaming. I wanted more. I wanted him to use me. I wanted to be the thing he conquered. I tried to milk his shaft with my ass. I had trained the muscles to take dildos, but never had a real dick in there. His manhood was huge and stretched me to my limit, but I still tried my best to make it tight for him.

He grabbed my hips tighter and pulled me toward him, adjusting our angle again. This time, something hit different, like a flash of white heat. I cried out, louder than I expected, and his eyes locked on mine.

"There?" he asked, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

I nodded furiously.

"Good boy," he said softly.

I didn’t know how to respond to that, but something in me melted. My eighteen-year-old hormones took over fully, and I wrapped my legs tighter around him. My body felt like it didn’t belong to me anymore. I wasn’t thinking. I was just chasing something. That thing Jenna used to tease out of me. That raw, shaking, uncontrollable high.

And Liam was taking me there.

It happened all at once. One perfect thrust, angled just right, and something snapped deep inside me. I let out a broken gasp, my hands gripping the sheets with white knuckles as the orgasm overtook me. I wasn’t even touching myself. I didn’t need to. My whole body locked up as thick pulses of cum oozed out through the cage, spilling over my shaft and dripping down my balls.

The pressure, the ache, the helplessness of it all, it turned into the most intense release I’d ever had. Warm fluid pooled beneath me, and I could feel it slicking both of us as Liam kept going, his motion steady, unrelenting.

None of it made sense. I was trapped in metal and still came harder than I ever had in my life.

He felt it too. He glanced down, noticing the way my jizz had coated the base of his shaft, his smirk turning a little more impressed.

“Damn,” he murmured, never breaking rhythm.

The beautiful thing about an anal orgasm? I didn’t have to stop. There was no crash. No refraction. I just felt... opened. Like my body had given in completely.

And I was ready for more.

He kept going, and I was barely present anymore. Just a body, pulsing and dazed, still shaking from the release. He gripped my hips tighter, moving faster, more desperate. His body pressed into mine, over and over, using every drop of slick between us. I could hear our skin meeting, fast and unrelenting. His hips and wet balls smacked against my body, and I felt him hitting even deeper parts of me than before. I could sense he was going to cum soon.

His hand came up and rested at my neck, then he held me tightly, reminding me that he was in control, how much I’d given up. I was his now. I didn’t even know what this all meant, but I didn’t care at this point.

I felt another wave building in me, impossible as it seemed. My mind barely registered it. Just the pressure growing again, the tension, the heat at my core spiraling up all over again. Another set of oozing cum leaking out of my cage, and my hole pulsed on his rod as I let out a choked breath.

“Again?” he muttered, almost amused, seeing the way my body continued to respond to him.

I could only gasp.

Then he pulled out, breath ragged, and pushed forward again, but this time crawling over me toward my mouth. I opened, dazed and ready, meeting him halfway. I felt the weight of him, the warmth, the rhythm slowing but growing more rough and intense. I tasted myself on him, another new thing for me tonight. Another level deeper into the rabbit hole.

And then it happened, he held my head down, his body tensed, and I felt it. The moment he released, I accepted all of it, swallowing repeatedly until he finished.

He pulled out of me, chest rising and falling as he caught his breath, and I finally sucked in the air I’d been missing. My body felt limp, spent, but somehow still literally tingling with energy.

He walked across the room toward his hamper and dug into the bottom like he knew exactly what he was looking for. I sat up, wiping off parts of the mess that clung to my chest and stomach, sticky and still warm. My brain was foggy, barely processing things, until I saw what he held up in one hand.

It took me a moment to register it. A jock strap, well-worn, gray, and stained with sweat and who knows what else.

"Is that from baseball?" I asked, eyeing the nasty, crumpled thing with a mix of disbelief and curiosity.

"Yeah," he said cheerily, a little too proud. "And you've earned it. Your first piece of clothing."

I gulped. My throat was dry, and my body felt wrung out.

I was in for a long weekend.