Page 12 of Caging Cessie (Submissives of Rawhide Ranch #20)

Leon refused to let anxiety or anticipation take the driver’s seat, no matter that waiting for Cessie’s reaction to the cage was torture.

He channeled his focus into preparing an early, light dinner.

She’d been in there for ten minutes.

He washed a cucumber and sliced it into clean, even discs.

She hadn’t run screaming.

He took out one hard and one soft cheese, cutting the hard cheese into small cubes.

She hadn’t marched out demanding an explanation.

That was a good sign. Still the waiting was hard, even for him.

He arranged the slices on the large wooden platter with the same care he gave to everything. Presentation mattered. Every detail mattered. The right words, the right tone, the right touches—all slow and deliberate, all pieces of the bigger plan.

Leon wiped his hands on a towel and leaned against the counter for a moment, glancing toward the living room. From here he couldn’t see the bedroom door.

He was giving her space. Letting her imagine herself behind those iron bars without any pressure. It was all about trust. Always trust. He turned back to the cutting board just as he heard her soft footfalls.

Cessie appeared in the kitchen, her hair falling loose around her shoulders, her expression carefully composed. But he saw the pink flush creeping along her throat.

"Can I help?" she asked, voice light but edged with something quieter. Something he recognized… anticipation.

Satisfaction roared through him.

He put a knife on the cutting board beside a glossy red bell pepper. “Cut it for me?”

He remembered to raise the inflection at the end of the sentence, turning it into a question though he was already starting to slip into that place of total control and command he only ever let himself slide into when he was being a Dom.

Giving orders and expecting complete control of a situation was total dickhead stuff, unless there was consensual power exchange and really good sex involved.

She stepped forward and he watched as she cut the vegetable with surgical precision. He could feel the curiosity pouring off her.

Good.

He turned his attention back to the platter, adjusting a pile of Marcona almonds, repositioning a cluster of grapes, adding a small dish of olives. She passed him the cutting board of uniformly-sliced bell pepper strips.

“I’ll finish this if you do drinks.” He tipped his chin at the tray.

“Wine?” she asked.

“A half glass only.”

Leon finished assembling his charcuterie board, then lifted the heavy platter and turned toward the dining area. It wasn’t far—just a few steps into the next room, where a small, round table waited by the window, two chairs facing each other.

He set the platter down. She’d set out plates, cutlery, and glasses of water as well as wine. When he walked around and pulled out her chair, she slid into her seat, hands resting lightly in her lap.

Leon sat across from her. For now. They needed to be on equal footing and face to face as he explained the rules.

They both waited, and he must have been smiling because her lips quirked too.

Cessie reached out, hesitating just slightly before picking up a piece of cheese from the platter.

Leon caught her wrist—not hard, not rough—but firm enough to still her movement.

She looked at him, brow raised.

Without a word, Leon leaned forward over the table, rising slightly from his seat. He cupped her jaw with one hand, steadying her, and kissed her. No more than a whisper of pressure. His thumb brushed against her cheekbone, lingering for a beat longer than necessary.

When he pulled back, he held her gaze.

It wasn’t just a kiss.

It was their signal.

Cessie froze for a heartbeat. Then, slowly, she exhaled, her body easing back into the chair. She lowered her gaze, though she watched him through her lashes.

Leon let a small, satisfied smile curl at the corner of his mouth.

Good.

The scene had begun.

He took the piece of cheese from her hand and set it back on the platter as he leaned back in his chair, one arm draped casually over the backrest, the other resting on the table. The air was heavy, expectant.

Slowly, layer by layer, he would rebuild her trust in him, just like a falcon learning to trust the voice and touch of their handler.

He let the silence stretch between them, thick and deliberate, until he saw her shoulders start to relax, her breathing slow to match his. Only then did he lean forward and pick up the piece of cheese she’d selected from the platter.

He held it between two fingers and extended his hand across the table.

Cessie hesitated for a moment, her gaze flicking from the food to his face.

Leon said nothing—only waited, patient and steady.

Slowly, she leaned forward. She kept her hands folded neatly in her lap and opened her mouth, looking a little unsure.

Leon brushed his fingers deliberately against her lips as he placed the small cube of cheese into her mouth.

Cessie’s breath hitched, but she didn’t pull back. She closed her mouth, chewing carefully, her gaze never leaving his.

Leon sat back, satisfied.

That had been a proof-of-concept test. His instincts said that this approach would work for both of them, but the fact that she’d either remembered what he’d said about falcons eating from the hand of their falconer, or that her own instincts had told her to eat directly from his hand, was all the proof he needed to push ahead.

“It’s time to explain the rules of your training.”

Cessie was outwardly composed, her hands folded neatly in her lap, but her heart was pounding in her ears, and her nipples were hard and aching to be touched. Leon sat across from her with that relaxed, dominant air that said he had no doubts he was in control.

And his face? His familiar, loved face, bore a slight smile. That devilish tilt of his lips made her simultaneously nervous and aroused.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low, measured. “I’m going to train you the way a falconer trains a bird of prey.”

Cessie blinked, swallowing hard now that he’d explicitly stated what they’d implicitly discussed on the couch.

Leon reached for the platter on the table and picked up a slice of pear, holding it lightly between his fingers. “This is the first step. From now on, you won’t feed yourself. You’ll only eat from my hand.”

Cessie felt her breath catch. Only from his hand. Total dependence. Each meal an act of trust, of submission.

Part of her rebelled. What if she was hungry? What if he gave her a bite that was too big? What if he picked a food she didn’t like?

What if she trusted him not to forget to feed her or trusted that if she said she was hungry he’d make sure she got food.

What if she trusted him not to feed her too much or the wrong things.

“Second, you’ll be hooded whenever you’re not in the cage.”

“What?” The single word came out sharp and hard. It wasn’t really a question, but a protest. He couldn’t be serious.

“Falcons hunt by sight, so removing their ability to see helps them stay calm, because they aren’t scanning for prey. When you’re hooded, you’ll have to rely on my voice. My touch.”

Cessie swallowed hard. She didn’t like that one.

“Only when you leave the cage,” he said gently.

Clearly her dislike had shown on her face.

“You’ll wear jesses.”

“Jesses?”

“The leather strap around and dangling from a falcon’s leg is called a jess. When the falcon is perched on the falconer’s hand, he holds the jess to keep the bird there. The jesses stay on always, even when the falcon flies free.”

“Cuffs,” she said softly.

He nodded. “At your wrists and ankles. A collar sometimes too.”

Okay, that one she could handle. That was normal.

“There will be bells on your jesses, and sometimes I’ll add bells to… other parts of your body.”

Cessie’s lips parted, a needy sound escaping before she could stop it. His gaze flicked down and she knew he was looking at her hard nipples. She ached for the pinch of clamps with bells against her nipples.

“The bells are so I’ll always know where you are,” he went on. “I’ll know when you’re moving, and when you’re still. I’ll hear every step you take. Every hesitation.”

Leon lifted the piece of pear again, extending it toward her across the table. She leaned forward without thinking, without breaking eye contact, and took it gently from his fingers with her teeth.

She sat back, chewing.

“I’ll talk to you,” he said. “I’ll touch you. Often. Until you know me without seeing me. Until you recognize the sound of me, the feel of me, better than anything else.”

Cessie held his gaze. “I already do.”

Now he looked surprised, and she hated that he found her words startling. How could he when every night, no matter how they started out in bed, in her sleep she’d reach out and pull his arm across her body. Her best sleep came when she had the weight of his arm pressing down on her.

“Then I’ll teach you to associate my touch, pleasure and pain, with safety. When I touch you, I don’t want you to hold anything back.”

Cessie’s breath trembled as she exhaled. She could already feel the edges of it closing in around her—the tight, careful frame he was building. No force. No pain.

Trust. Surrender.

“This isn’t about punishment,” he said. “It isn’t really about control. It’s about showing you, teaching you, to come to me when the world is too much.”

She was tired of feeling like she was about to cry, but those words brought tears to the surface, until they stung her eyes and made her throat tight.

“You’ve been carrying everything on your own for too long, baby.”

Cessie pressed her hands tighter in her lap, trying not to react and let the tears fall.

“You’ll eat when I feed you. You’ll listen for my voice. You’ll know my hand when it finds you.”

He rose, circling around behind her. She stiffened but only for a moment as his hand rested on her shoulder.

“You’ll submit to me, more deeply than you ever have before.” His hand slid from her shoulder to the side of her neck, thumb brushing against her pulse before his fingers curled around her throat, gripping lightly.

Cessie tipped her face up, giving him inferred access to her throat even as her eyes slid closed.

“When you need it, I’ll punish you.” His other hand skimmed down her chest, palm grazing on a hard nipple. Even with the muting presence of her dress the touch made her jump and moan as her pussy pulsed. “And pleasure you. I’m still going to use you as a sub, but with added elements.”

“Thank you, Master.”

“Keep your eyes closed and open your mouth.”

She jerked back when something touched her lower lip. Logically she knew it would be food, but not knowing which food made her antsy, and she almost spit it out because for a moment she couldn’t identify the flavor.

Bell pepper. It was a piece of the red bell pepper she’d cut up.

“Was that hard?” For the first time, he sounded hesitant.

“I know it shouldn’t have been, I just didn’t know?—”

“Cessie, stop. Stop worrying about what I’m feeling or thinking and be honest. Trust me with the truth.”

“But it’s stupid. I logically knew you were going to feed me something, but not knowing exactly what makes me feel…”

“What?” he asked when she didn’t answer.

“It makes me feel out of control.”

Wood scraped as he pulled his chair around. She squeezed her eyes closed because the temptation to open them was too great.

“Baby, look at me.” Amusement laced his voice.

Her tension melted, and she opened one eye. Leon was grinning at her.

“Did you seriously just tell me that you didn’t like that because it made you feel out of control?”

“Er… yes.”

“Should I be worried that you aren’t into D/s, the power exchange, anymore?” His tone made it clear that he wasn’t actually worried.

“No. I’m pretty sure my therapist would say that my anxiety makes it hard for me to handle situations that are a complete unknown. I’m good in a crisis because I’ve already imagined the bad things happening and made a plan for how to deal with them.”

“Is this a bad thing?” he asked gently.

The world thought he was so hard but he was always so gentle with her.

“No. No, never.” Cessie turned a little to face him, reaching out to grip his hands in hers. “See this is why I didn’t want to say anything because I’d mess it up and?—”

Leon cupped the back of her head and pulled her in for a hard kiss to shut her up.

Cessie opened her mouth, sucking gently on his tongue when it slipped into her mouth.

He broke the kiss, keeping their foreheads pressed together.

“I didn’t kiss you to stop you from talking. I want… need you to talk to me. I kissed you to stop you from spiraling.” He sat back. “And because I enjoy that pretty mouth.”

She smiled, but her stomach was still tight.

He studied her. “Last night in the Dungeon we both knew exactly what was going to happen, because we’d played that same scene out before.”

“Yes.”

“And we’ve been D/s partners so long we know one another’s preferences and limits.

Nothing is really a surprise, and that’s honestly how it should be, to make sure the scene doesn’t bump against someone’s hard limits.

But the fact that we know each other so well means we’re not testing the strength of our relationship. ”

“That sounds ominous.” She took a sip of water just for something to do.

“It’s not. Because you trusted me with the truth when you told me that not knowing what I was feeding you was hard for you.

Thank you, Cessie, for telling me. And I hope you see that when you tell me things like that, I’m not going to decide we’re broken or whatever other catastrophic thinking you’re imagining. ”

Cessie stared at him for a long moment, then threw herself into his arms. Leon grunted but wrapped his arms around her. She ended up half on his lap with her feet braced on the floor until he reached down and cupped her knees, pulling them across his lap.

“It doesn’t make any sense that I’m more worried about being blindfolded than I was about having my pussy spanked.”

He patted her ass, which hung off the side of his thigh. “I bet if we went back to the main building you’d find ten other subs who would say it makes total sense to them.”

He let her sit in his lap for several minutes before easing her into her chair and standing. Leon held out his hand.

After all their talk about falcons and hands, the moment felt heavy and pivotal. She slowly raised her arm and put her hand in his.