Dave’s Dive: The Cage Clash by DCDave
I’m Dave, fifty-fuckin’-five, king of this shithole bar where the lights buzz like dying flies, the floor’s a sticky trap, and the air’s a swamp of booze and bad decisions. Cops? Never call ‘em—let the fists fly, let the bitches brawl, and I reap the rewards. Every night, I’m behind the bar, pourin’ rotgut and grinnin’ like a wolf in a henhouse.
A few weeks after Tom celebrated his financial freedom and the bar celebrated Christine’s win over Anna by grudge fucking Anna until she looked just like a train had been pulled on her, who comes slinkin’ into the bar but the cum bucket herself.
Anna, that 35-year-old redhead firecracker—5’6”, 155 pounds of lean muscle, back and thighs carved like a goddamn statue, arms tight, belly flat as a board. Her 34C tits perk up, screamin’ trophy wife vibes, but her eyes are feral—last time she fought, Christine fucked her up, Adam dumped her ass, and she lost everything: car, crib, sugar daddy, the works. She’s got that hollowed-out look, like a junkyard dog kicked one too many times, but there’s a glint in her—wild, rabid, ready to bite.
She slides up to the bar, leanin’ close, smellin’ like cheap perfume and cheaper desperation. “Dave,” she rasps, voice low and jagged, “I need a fight. Cara—Adam’s new little blonde bitch. I want her gone. I want him back.”
I lean back, pourin’ a shot of something that’d strip paint, smirkin’. “You got nothin’, Anna. No cash, no stakes. What’s in it for me, huh? Last time, you were the bar’s fuck-rag—whaddaya got now but a used-up snatch?”
Her jaw tightens, but she don’t flinch. “I’ll suck you off, Dave. Right here, right now. Sponsor me—put up the money. I’ll give you whatever you want. I need this. Adam’s mine—he don’t belong with that OnlyFans slut. She’s a fake-ass Barbie, and I’m the real deal. I’ll rip her apart, take him back, and be his queen again.”
I laugh, harsh and mean, settin’ the shot down. “A blowjob? That’s your big play? You’re gonna have to do better, sweetheart. I don’t back losers—Christine made you her bitch, and Adam tossed you like trash. Why should I bet on a broke-down has-been?”
She grabs my belt, yankin’ me closer, her hands fast and hungry. “Because I’m tougher, Dave,” she snarls, unzippin’ me, fishin’ out my cock—already half-hard from her nerve. “I’m gonna win this time. Cara’s soft—she’s all curves and no spine. I’m muscle, I’m fire, I’m better.” She strokes me, rough and tight, spittin’ on the head before her lips close around it—hot, wet, fuckin’ feral. She pulls off, strokin’ fast, lookin’ up with those wild eyes. “I’ll choke her out, Dave. I’ll make her scream, make her beg. Adam’ll see I’m the one—he’ll fuck me on her corpse if I have to.”
I groan, grippin’ the bar edge, lettin’ her work me—sloppy, loud, no shame. “You’re a desperate little slut, ain’t ya?” I taunt, voice gravelly. “Think you can take Cara? She’s got Adam eatin’ outta her hand—maybe she’ll fuck you up worse than Christine did. Maybe I’ll get to ream your ass again while he watches.”
She growls, suckin’ harder, tongue flickin’ like a snake. “No fuckin’ way,” she mumbles around me, pullin’ off to spit and stroke. “I’m the tougher bitch—I’ll break her, Dave. I need Adam. He’s my ticket, my life. Cara’s a poser—I’ll claw those fake tits off and shove ‘em down her throat. You’ll see. Sponsor me, and I’ll give you my mouth anytime—weeks, months, whatever. Just get me in the cage with her.”
I grab her hair, yankin’ her head back, smirkin’ down as she gasps, lips shiny with spit. “Weeks of this mouth, huh? Free use—my cock’s your new god, Anna. You’re that far gone for this prick Adam? Fine—keep suckin’, and I’ll think about it. Prove you’re worth the cash, you filthy little animal.”
She dives back in, devourin’ me—gaggin’, slurpin’, eyes locked on mine like a predator. “I’ll win,” she chokes out between thrusts, hand pumpin’ me. “I’m better. Tougher. Cara’s dead meat—Adam’s mine.” Her need’s a fuckin’ furnace—burnin’ for status, for revenge, for that sleazy bastard who dumped her. She’s a beast, and I’m lovin’ every second of pushin’ her deeper.
“Keep talkin’, bitch,” I grunt, thrustin’ into her throat. “Convince me you ain’t just a washed-up whore. You want Adam that bad, you’ll crawl through shit for it—show me how low you’ll go.” She gags, tears streakin’, but don’t stop—strokin’, suckin’, mumblin’ about Cara’s blood and Adam’s cock. I’m no saint—hell, I’m the devil stokin’ this fire—and she’s my perfect little pawn, drownin’ in her own depravity. My nut nearly blows her eyes out, and she takes it like a champ.
Next night, she’s under the desk in my shitty little office in back, worshippin’ my dick while I call Adam. “Anna wants you back, prick,” I growl, her tongue workin’ me hard, slidin’ along the shaft like she’s polishin’ a fuckin’ trophy. “She wins, she’s yours again. Cara wins, you get two grand cash from me. Loser goes to the bar—me first, then the bar’s meat, hundred a turn.” Anna’s moanin’ low, throatin’ me deep, her hands grippin’ my thighs. Adam’s breathin’ heavy on the line—sounds like Cara’s suckin’ him off too, that platinum blonde OnlyFans slut he scooped up after ditchin’ Anna. Cara’s 5’4”, 145 pounds of horse-girl fit—32D tits, full lips, curves that could stop traffic, and an ass so round it’s a fuckin’ felony in those jeans. She’s vanilla on camera, but Adam’s turned her into a rough-play junkie.
“Two grand, huh?” Adam snaps, voice tight, Cara’s wet gurgles hummin’ through the phone. “That redheaded bitch cost me ten times that when she tapped out to Christine. Fuck her—she’s a used-up rag. Cara’s gonna grind her into the dirt.”
I laugh, leanin’ back, Anna’s lips stretched tight around me, slurpin’ loud. “Anna’s a goddamn artist down there, pal—suckin’ me like she’s tryna win an Oscar. Tough as nails too—says she’ll rip Cara’s fake tits off and shove ‘em down her throat. You sure your little blonde can handle that kinda heat?”
Adam snorts, a groan slippin’ out as Cara works him—sounds like she’s chokin’ down his whole damn cock. “Cara’s a fuckin’ queen, Dave. She’s got curves that’d make a priest sin and a mouth that could suck the chrome off a bumper. Anna’s a washed-up skank—Christine proved that. My girl’s gonna dance circles around her and leave her cryin’.”
Anna pulls off, strokin’ me fast, spittin’ on the head, her voice rough as she mutters, “I’ll kill her, Dave—Adam’s mine,” before divin’ back in, gaggin’ herself hard. I grin, pushin’ her head down. “Hear that, Adam? She’s feral—got a fire your little Barbie can’t match. How about we spice this up? Spike-heeled boots—five inches.”
“Five?” Adam barks, laughin’ sharp, Cara’s moans gettin’ louder. “Make it six, you cheap bastard—let’s see ‘em stumble like strippers. And make it five grand. Cara’s got legs that’ll snap Anna’s neck in those heels.” He groans again, mutterin’, “Fuck, babe, deeper.”
I thrust into Anna’s throat, her gaggin’ a sweet soundtrack. “Six ain’t shit—seven inches, Pleaser heels, platforms included. Nude otherwise—let’s see the meat jiggle. Anna’s gonna strut in ‘em like a goddamn pro—your girl might just trip and impale herself.”
Adam’s breath hitches—Cara’s goin’ to town, slurpin’ loud enough I can hear it. “Seven it is, asshole. Cara’s gonna look like a fuckin’ goddess—Anna’ll be a clumsy cow. Let’s lock ‘em in a cage too—small one, phone-booth tight. No runnin’, just blood and tits.”
“Fuck yeah,” I growl, Anna’s tongue flickin’ the tip, her eyes blazin’ up at me. “Cage it is—keep ‘em close, clawin’ and stompin’. Speakin’ of stompin’, let’s push ‘em to use those heels—encourage a little heel-to-tit action. Film it too—get ‘em on camera agreein’ to the stakes, no bullshit later.”
Adam laughs, dark and mean, Cara’s chokin’ noises spikin’. “Film’s genius—Cara’s gonna shine, Anna’s gonna crash. Split the cash from sellin’ it—my girl’s a star already, she’ll make us a mint. Stompin’s a go—let’s see Anna’s saggy ass bleed.”
I grip Anna’s hair, fuckin’ her face as she growls around me. “Anna’s a beast, prick—her mouth’s a fuckin’ vacuum right now, better than your blonde ever could. She’ll stomp Cara’s fake rack flat and leave her sobbin’. Film’s gonna show my girl rulin’ the cage.”
“Dream on, Dave,” Adam snarls, voice crackin’ as Cara’s gurgles hit a fever pitch. “Cara’s a pro—suckin’ me like a champ while you’re stuck with that has-been. She’ll break Anna, and I’ll be countin’ my five grand while you’re balls-deep in a loser again.” He groans loud, “Fuck—swallow it, bitch!”—and I hear Cara gag, takin’ his load.
I’m right behind, Anna’s eyes locked on mine, approval flashin’ as she slams my cockhead into her throat—thick ropes blastin’, her gaggin’ loud and proud. “Don’t spit, slut,” I snarl, holdin’ her head tight, and she coughs, swallowin’ every drop. I laugh into the phone. “That’s how you train ‘em, Adam—Anna’s a goddamn swallower. Your girl choke down that load, or she spit like a quitter?”
Adam’s pantin’, smug as hell. “Cara took it all, asshole—deep throat, no mess. She’s a fuckin’ pro—Anna’s just a sloppy second. Fight’s set for tomorrow night—my girl’s gonna own yours.”
“Keep dreamin’, prick,” I shoot back, Anna lickin’ me clean under the desk. “Anna’s got fire—your Barbie’s gonna melt. See ya tomorrow—bring your bitch and your tears.” We hang up, deal set, cocks spent, both of us ridin’ high on the filth and the fight to come.
Fight night, the place is a goddamn zoo—crowd’s huge, packed wall-to-wall with bikers, drunks, and perverts, all sweatin’ and hollerin’. The cage is bolted to the old wood floor, a sturdy steel fence box the size of a small jail cell, glintin’ under the dim lights. Anna and Cara strut in, clothed for now—Anna in tight jeans and a ripped tank, Cara in a skimpy dress that hugs her curves like a second skin. The crowd’s droolin’ as they peel it all off, slow and deliberate, tits bouncin’, asses shakin’. Anna slips on bright green seven-inch Pleaser heels, platforms makin’ her tower—legs steady, like she’s danced in ‘em before. Cara laces up electric purple ones, struttin’ like a pro, heels clickin’ sharp. Both bitches look ready to kill.
Cage opens on two sides—they step in, ordered not to touch, just standin’ there, glarin’ like feral cats. I grab a mic, voice boomin’ over the roar. “This here’s Anna—35 years old, 5’6”, 155 pounds of pure muscle, 34C tits that’ll knock you out. My girl’s gonna pound Cara’s fake ass into the mat, choke her out, and prove she’s better!” Crowd whoops, fists bangin’ tables—half yellin’ “Anna! Anna!” while others wave cash, bettin’ on my redhead to win.
Adam snatches the mic, smirkin’ wide. “Meet Cara—25, 5’4”, 145 pounds of horse-girl fit, 32D curves that’ll make you weep. She’s gonna stomp Anna’s saggy tits flat, break her face, and steal her man—me—with a win!” The room erupts—shouts of “Cara! Cara!” mixin’ with “Fifty on the blonde!” and “Hundred says redhead chokes her!” Money’s flyin’, crowd’s rabid.
I step up, starin’ down Cara through the chain link fence. “You agree to the rules, blondie? One fall, anything goes—one proves she’s better. Anna wins, she gets Adam. You win, Adam gets five grand. Loser’s mine—free use, any hole I pick—then a hundred a pop for the bar’s pigs. You in, or you scared?”
Cara sneers, heels clickin’ as she leans forward. “I’m in, you old fuck. I’ll smash Anna’s ugly mug, rip those floppy tits off—then you’ll fuck her throat while the crowd reams her ass bloody. She’s gonna be a cum-soaked rag when I’m done.”
Adam turns to Anna, voice drippin’ venom. “Your turn, red. Same rules—one fall, no mercy. You win, you’re back in my life. You lose, I get the cash and Dave owns your holes first—free use, no limits—then every prick here gets a turn. Agree, or crawl away?”
Anna’s eyes blaze, green heels planted firm. “Agreed, you sleazy bastard. I’ll bust Cara’s fake face, snap her twig arms—then Dave’s gonna choke her with his cock while the bar breeds her till she’s drippin’. She’ll beg before I’m through.”
Crowd’s losin’ it—cash stacks growin’, chants splittin’ between “Anna!” and “Cara!” Camera’s rollin’—no backin’ out. I nod at Adam, he nods back, and we shout in unison: “Fight!”
Anna lunges first, fist crashin’ into Cara’s jaw—blonde’s head snaps back, her face twistin’ in a sharp wince, a low “Unnnh!” escapin’ her lips. “Plastic slut!” Anna snarls, green heel slammin’ into Cara’s thigh—a dull thud echoes, Cara’s muscle quivers, a purple bruise bloom’ fast as she stumbles, gruntin’ loud. Cara ducks, swings a fist into Anna’s tit—34C compresses under the blow, a dark welt spreadin’, Anna’s face contorts, a guttural “Ooof!” burstin’ out. “Flabby fuckin’ cow!” Cara yanks Anna’s hair, slams her into the cage corner—steel grinds Anna’s back, Cara’s knee drives into her gut. Anna’s flat belly caves, a red mark flarin’, her mouth gapes in a pained “Ahhh!” as she doubles slightly. “Gonna watch Dave choke you raw!” Cara hisses, clawin’ Anna’s tits—fingers sink into soft flesh, twistin’ nipples till they’re swollen and bruised, Anna’s eyes squeezin’ shut, a raw “Fuuuck!” tearin’ from her throat.
I’m screamin’, “Pound her, Anna! Cara’s a cheap whore!” Adam’s hollerin’, “Rip her, Cara! Anna’s trash!” Anna twists free, shoves Cara back, lands a kick to her chest—32Ds flatten under the green heel, a mottled bruise spreadin’, Cara’s face crumples, a sharp “Nngh!” spillin’ out. Anna mounts, fists hammerin’ Cara’s face—each punch leaves a splotchy red mark on her cheeks, Cara’s eyes waterin’, a strained “Ohhh!” with every hit. “Crowd’s gonna fuck you stupid, bitch!” Anna yells, nails rakin’ Cara’s tits—deep welts rise, Cara’s chest heaves, a high-pitched “Aaaah!” echoin’ as she bucks.
Cara rolls, traps Anna in the opposite corner—steel bites Anna’s spine, Cara stomps a purple heel into Anna’s tit—34C mashes inward, a swollen bruise darkenin’, Anna’s face twists in agony, a loud “Gaaah!” ripplin’ through. “Gonna see you drool cum!” Cara screeches, fist poundin’ Anna’s belly—a red imprint flares, Anna’s abs clench, a choked “Uuunh!” slippin’ out. Adam’s yellin’, “Break her, Cara! She’s done!” I’m roarin’, “Fight back, Anna! Cara’s a slut!”
Anna grabs Cara’s leg, twists—blonde crashes to the mat, Anna pounces. Fists slam Cara’s ribs—a dull thump with each hit, bruises blossom’ yellow and blue, Cara’s face screws up, a wheezin’ “Hnnngh!” escapin’. Anna pins her in the corner, knee drivin’ into Cara’s gut—curves shudder, a splotchy mark spreads, Cara’s mouth opens in a silent scream, then a shaky “Owww!” “Gonna watch ‘em ream your ass!” Anna snarls, clawin’ Cara’s tits—welts puff up, Cara’s chest arches, a shrill “Fuuuuck!” burstin’ free. Cara kicks Anna’s thigh—green heel wobbles, a dark bruise blooms on Anna’s muscled leg, her face tightens, a rough “Ngh!” gruntin’ out as she staggers.
Cara’s up, slams Anna into the cage—purple heel stomps Anna’s ass—a red welt rises on that carved cheek, Anna’s eyes widen, a sharp “Aaaagh!” tearin’ loose. “C’mon, Cara, end that hag!” Adam bellows. “She’s gonna choke on dick!” I’m red-faced, “Get up, Anna! Rip her apart!” Anna tackles Cara—mat shakes, heels clatter. She straddles, fists poundin’ Cara’s tits—32Ds squash under each blow, bruises darken’, Cara’s face twists, a wailin’ “Ooooh!” with every strike. “Saggy fuckin’ pig!” Cara claws Anna’s belly—nails leave faint red lines, a patchy bruise spreads, Anna’s jaw clenches, a low “Hnnn!” rumblin’ out.
Anna traps Cara in the corner—green heel stomps Cara’s thigh—a thick bruise swells, Cara’s leg buckles, her face crumplin’ with a sobbin’ “Unnnnh!” Cara shoves back, pins Anna—purple heel drives into Anna’s tit—34C distorts, a deep purple mark flares, Anna’s head tips back, a ragged “Aaaah!” echoin’. Adam’s screamin’, “Fight, Cara! Don’t let her win!” I’m roarin’, “Finish her, Anna! Cara’s toast!”
They crash—fists and heels flyin’. Anna’s fist smashes Cara’s cheek—a splotchy bruise blooms, Cara’s eyes squint in pain, a whinin’ “Nngh!” slippin’ out. Cara kicks Anna’s ass—purple heel leaves a welt, Anna’s face screws up, a sharp “Ooof!” burstin’ free. Anna’s eye swells, Cara’s jaw’s mottled. Cara slams Anna into the cage, fist to her belly—red spreads, Anna doubles, a gaspin’ “Haaah!” Cara takes a wild swing—Anna ducks, but the fist grazes her tit, leavin’ a fresh bruise, Anna winces, a quick “Nnh!”
Anna charges, lands a kick to Cara’s chest—32Ds jiggle, a dark welt rises, Cara slumps down the cage, face twistin’, a weak “Ohhh!” slippin’ out. Anna stomps—green heel slams Cara’s belly, flesh quakes, a deep bruise spreads, Cara’s eyes bulge, a loud “Uuungh!” Anna’s heel mashes Cara’s tit—32D flattens, purple deepens, Cara’s mouth gapes, a screamin’ “Fuuuck!” Cara grabs Anna’s foot, twists hard—Anna stumbles, Cara surges up.
Cara punches Anna’s thigh—a bruise darkens, Anna grunts, “Ngh!” Cara kicks Anna’s belly—red blooms, Anna’s face contorts, a choked “Ooof!” Anna slumps against the cage, Cara stompin’—purple heel pounds Anna’s tit—34C caves, a swollen mark flares, Anna’s eyes water, a raw “Aaaagh!” Heel to Anna’s belly—muscle ripples, a patchy bruise spreads, Anna doubles, wheezin’ “Hnnngh!” Cara stomps Anna’s ass—welts stack, Anna’s jaw clenches, a tremblin’ “Ohhh!” Cara’s relentless—heel to Anna’s tit again, bruise blackenin’, Anna screams, “Fuuuuck!”
Anna fights back, grabs Cara’s leg—twists, Cara staggers. Anna punches Cara’s face—a red mark flares, Cara winces, “Nnh!” Anna kicks Cara’s thigh—muscle dents, a bruise swells, Cara grunts, “Unh!” Cara slumps, Anna stomps—green heel mashes Cara’s belly, curves shudder, a deep purple spreads, Cara’s face crumples, a gaspin’ “Owww!” Heel to Cara’s tit—32D squashes, bruise darkens, Cara wails, “Aaaah!” Anna keeps goin’—stomp to the belly, flesh quakes, Cara’s eyes squeeze shut, a sobbin’ “Hnnngh!” Stomp to the tit—welts pile, Cara’s chest heaves, a shrill “Nooo!” Cara claws at Anna’s leg, nails scrapin’, but Anna stomps harder—belly, tit, belly, tit—Cara’s body jolts with each hit, bruises stackin’, her voice crackin’, “Baby, she’s hurtin’ me… deep. Oh God!”
Anna snarls, “Tap, bitch!” and rears back—green platform sole slams Cara’s forehead, a dull thud rings out, Cara’s head snaps back, eyes rollin’ up, out cold. Anna wins.
Crowd explodes, chantin’ “Fuck her!” Anna kicks Cara’s ribs. “Adam’s mine, bitch.” I’m cheerin’, “That’s my girl!” Adam’s fumin’, silent, his choice made for him. And now he’s got a brutal hellcat that has a secret cravin’ for my thick dick.
Crowd explodes, chantin’ “Fuck her!” I swing the cage doors wide. Anna staggers out, nude and battered—tits blotchy with bruises, belly red, thighs and ass welted. She limps to Adam, wraps her arms around his neck, pressin’ her bruised body against him. My girl won, but a bet’s a bet, even if Adam’s lookin’ like his dog just died.
The crowd surges, hands grabbin’ Cara’s limp form—purple heels danglin’ as they haul her out, drapin’ her over a table. Head hangs off one side, blonde hair spillin’, legs off the other, ass hangin’off the sticky, dirty table. She stirs, eyes flutterin’ open, realization hittin’—she lost. I step up, jeans down, cock out, grinnin’. “Showtime, blondie.” I grab her hair, stuff eight inches into her mouth—she’s an OnlyFans girl, takes it like a pro. Drool spills instant, lips stretched, she gags loud—spit bubblin’, eyes tearin’ up, streaks runnin’ down her bruised cheeks. Her 32Ds hang, blotchy with dark welts, swayin’ as I thrust. I reach across, four thick fingers divin’ into her pussy—hookin’ deep, stretchin’ her tight walls. “Fuckin’ tight little hole,” I grunt, admirin’ how she clenches around me. She works my cock—throat flexin’, gaggin’ hard, spit flyin’—and I blow massive, cum blastin’ down her gullet. She chokes it down, eyes red, a champ to the end.
I step back, wipin’ my hand, and start collectin’—hundred bucks a turn, line formin’ fast. Nearly five grand piles up—my bet’s covered, then some. Anna’s beside me, strokin’ Adam’s cock as it juts through his jeans, all of us watchin’ Cara get brutalized. First guy rams her ass—she whimpers, body rockin’, bruises jigglin’. Next takes her mouth—gags echo, spit and cum smear her face. Third pounds her pussy—legs flail, purple heels clatterin’, her tight hole stretched wide. She’s a mess by the tenth—cum drippin’ from every hole, ass red, tits welted, voice gone hoarse. Crowd’s chantin’ “Next!”—fifteen deep, and she’s takin’ it all.
Anna’s hand speeds up, Adam groanin’ soft, eyes locked on Cara’s wreck. I light a smoke, countin’ my haul—film cash plus this? Fuckin’ goldmine. Cara’s a helluva fighter, and now I see it—she’s a depraved video star too, takin’ it like she was born for it. I’m greedy as hell—lost Anna, though I see her lookin’ over at me and know she’ll be back for some dive bar dick, and maybe Cara’s my next ticket. Another night at Dave’s, and I’m the fuckin’ king.
