The Crate(m/f & f/m)

[Steak in a Tree]

Author's note:
On the old forum, I talked quite frequently with one user, who has yet to find her way onto this site. This story will be loosely based on that conversation, with some of my own elements added in. Should be interesting. The relevant persons mentioned are all 18+, of course.

Also this is my first story in a while, so hopefully this isn't a complete disaster...

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You know what my favourite part of being a senior in high school is? You guessed it, only having to show up for the morning classes. At 12:30 every day, this motherfucker leaves school, and drives home while most others stayed back and suffered. Truly glorious.

The events of this tale take place on a certain Monday afternoon. If you were to stand outside my school's front door, you'd see me exiting right about... now. At the moment, I'm wearing a black hoodie with the school's logo, blue jeans and black Converse. I'm powerwalking towards my truck, a dark silver beauty. Surely that's enough to set the scene, right? I dunno, it's April-ish, lots of overcast. It rains a bunch here so I wouldn't be surprised if that broke out soon. Anyways, you lot get the idea.

The events of the drive home are rather lacking, so I'll skip over those. I didn't run anybody over this time, so there isn't really anything to report. I pull up and park the truck, hopping out while humming whatever song I'm listening to. I unlock the front door, being greeted by the dark house, just the way I left it. My mother leaves for work before I leave, and comes home much later than I(this will be important later). The house is only occupied by us(also somewhat important), so I generally leave everything nice and dark. It also allows me to sit in the dark and write edgy poetry etc. without needing to set the mood.

I casually open the door to my room, and am immediately taken aback by what's inside. I keep my room rather clean, which has allowed a generous amount of floor space for a very large crate. Taller than I, and practically a monument in the center of my room. At this point, three questions popped into my head:

1. What is this crate doing here?
2. How did this get into my room?
3. Dammit, why can't I remember what I was gonna write for the third question?

Now, if I had logical answers for any of these, I would probably be trying to make this fly in the True TUG Stories section. However, it isn't, so the laws of the universe can be broken slightly. I walk around it slowly, inspecting the crate. Yup, it's a crate. I rap on the crate a few times, and can hear movement inside. Curiosity piqued, I go out to the shed and grab the crowbar.

Now, watching enough cartoons has taught me that the correct way to use one of these is to stand on the side of the crate and use the crowbar to sort of anchor myself to it. I do just this, and start pulling with all of my might. I feel the top give, and before I know it, I'm thrown back by the force of my own prying. I slam into the wall as the sides of the crates fall. While the classical cloud of smoke appears, there's no structural damage, don't worry.

As the smoke clears, I'm able to finally look at what's inside the crate. To my surprise, it's a cage, and within that is a woman. Shorter than I but a couple years older, with dark black hair. Oh, and completely naked, save for a pair of handcuffs securing her arms behind her. Of all the things I was expecting, that was not one of them(though to be fair, I would've been surprised by literally anything).

"Hi Jacob," the woman says, a large grin on her face. "Care to let a girl out?" She presses her face to the bars and extends her lips for a kiss.

The accent is a quick jolt back to reality. I did know this woman, though her being here was still improbable. We had spoken over the internet on many occasions, and she had sworn to me that she would do this at some point. I never gave her my address though. Perhaps that was a reason to be alarmed?

I was brought back to reality by the sound of her puckering lips, getting impatient with me. I shook my head, returning to the present. "Hi Michelle," I respond, very quickly kissing her soft lips. I've got a reputation as a terrible kisser, and would rather that not be the first topic of our in-person meeting.

There was a keyring lying on the ground, next to a pile of various things that will be brought up in future installments. There were a fair amount of keys, although all were clearly labeled. I found the one labeled 'cage,' and it worked perfectly.

"Thank you," Michelle sang, that big smile still plastered on her face. She practically skipped around the cage, sitting on my bed that was behind it. She turned her body to the side, and patted the bed next to her with her cuffed hands. "Sit, and unlock me please."

I sat down and shuffled through the keyring, looking for the correct key. "So," I said. "You actually did it."

Michelle turned around to look at me. "I told you I would, didn't I?" she asked with a wink.

"I guess you did," I responded. I finished unlocking her handcuffs, and she started rubbing her wrists. "Well, it's certa-" I was cut off by Michelle's hand over my mouth.

"We can talk later," she said, turning around and sitting on my lap. She removed her hand, which was immediately replaced with her lips on mine. Oh man her lips were soft, so plump. She smelled of citrus, which of course she knew I liked. It was just as we had talked about it, how we pictured it going down(minus the part where I blanked out in the middle).

It didn't last, however. We made out for a few seconds, before she abruptly pulled back. I must've had a confused look on my face, because she smirked. "You're a lousy kisser, you know that?"

Of course.

[Macher]

This promises to be an interesting and novel story.

To my eyes, the writing seems far from the disaster you fear. You haven't lost your touch from what I remember of your writing. Keep it up!

[Steak in a Tree]

Holy crap, somebody remembers my writing. Hell even I don't remember the last time I wrote anything...

Much appreciated, I'm glad you enjoyed the first part.

[Macher]

Holy crap, somebody remembers my writing. Hell even I don't remember the last time I wrote anything...

Much appreciated, I'm glad you enjoyed the first part.

I don't remember it terribly well, but I do remember finding the stories I read enjoyable and your writing style engaging and having a really nice flow to it, all qualities reflected so far in The Crate.

[Solarbeast]

I am also hoping this turns into a great hit, but so far it certainly has done just that. I can't wait to read the next chapters to find out. Also, I'm wondering what recipe the person from your avatar is trying to make?

[Steak in a Tree]

[mention]Solarbeast[/mention] is asking the real questions here.

To be fair, I think they're just turning a steak inside out for the sake of turning a steak inside out. It hit the front page of r/gifs when it was posted, so I guess it farmed a lot of internet points too.

[Deleted User 1665]

A very nice start! You haven't lost the touch

Also, a reminder to look into inside-out steaks...