Page 16 of Caging Cessie (Submissives of Rawhide Ranch #20)

Her nipples were starting to burn not just from the pinch but from the weight of the small bells pulling on them as her tits bounced.

“Close?” Leon asked, and his voice was near.

Cessie’s eyes snapped open. Leon was inside the cage with her, standing at the foot of the bed and slowly removing his shirt. She didn’t stop her almost-frantic bouncing on the dildo as she greedily eyed his now bare chest.

“I asked you a question, Cessie. That’s two.”

“Not close,” she panted. “It’s good but it’s not enough. Not enough.” She moaned out the last word.

She could feel the start of the orgasm as a tightness low in her belly, but it wasn’t getting tighter. The pressure wasn’t increasing, which meant she wouldn’t get to enjoy the release of that pressure.

“Don’t stop. Keep fucking yourself.”

He circled around the thick post at the corner of the four-poster bed then sat. The mattress dipped slightly but she didn’t let that stop her.

Bounce, bounce, bounce , her tits jiggled, nipples pulled and pinched by the clamps.

The dildo slid in and out, in and out. It was now soaked with her arousal, allowing it to slide in so easily that the only thing she could do to increase the stimulation was to go faster.

Leon leaned on one elbow on the mattress, his gaze fastened on her sex.

He reached out and spread the top of her labia, exposing her clit. She froze, hoping desperately that he’d touch her there.

“I didn’t tell you to stop. That’s three.”

Cessie couldn’t stop the little growl of frustration, even as she obediently resumed fucking herself. Leon braced his palm on her belly so he could keep his fingers on her labia, keep her spread even as she resumed moving.

Now she got the faintest brush of air on her clit as she moved, enough to tease but not enough to stimulate.

Frustration made the muscles of her arms tight, and her fingers were laced together into a fist on the top of her head.

“Master, please!”

“Please what?”

“Please touch me so I can come.”

He released her labia, leaning back to look up at her as she bounced up and down on a dildo, the bells he’d forced her to wear adding a frantic soundtrack to her desperate fucking.

“No.”

She froze, staring at him. “No?” Surely, he meant not yet.

“Don’t. Stop.” He rose to stand beside the bed, hand fisting her hair. “Fuck yourself until I tell you to stop.”

He tugged down, forcing her to either bend back or sink down on the dildo.

She lowered herself, whimpering her apology.

He finally released her hair, and she immediately popped up, almost letting the dildo slip out of her pussy.

At the last second she realized what would happen, and that to get the dildo back in she’d need to take her hand off her head.

She froze again, dildo luckily still inside her.

She felt sweaty and awkward and frustrated.

Not just sexually, though she was desperate to come. It was a deeper frustration.

She wasn’t in control. Yes, BDSM meant the power exchange, willingly giving him control, but what they did together, no matter who made the commands, always felt controlled. Dark, depraved, but elegant and beautiful.

This was inelegant and awkward. She was thrashing and bouncing on a floppy rubber dick while the sound of bells rang like a herd of cats with bells on their collars bouncing off the walls.

The chiming, tinkling sound was making her nuts. She wanted to rip them off. She wanted this to be one of their regular scenes where she knew what would happen. She wanted to be bound by rope and leather not just by his commands.

“Leon,” she sobbed. “Please let me come.”

“No.”

She gripped her own hair, pulling until it burned. “What do you mean, no?!”

He yanked her hands out of her hair, forcing them to the small of her back. He grabbed her jesses, wrapping them around his hand and pulling up. Since they weren’t on her wrists but on her forearms, it forced her arms to bend, her elbows up toward the ceiling.

“Don’t. Stop.”

Tears of frustration slid down her face and she hunched forward, trying to move without feeling like she was dislocating her own shoulders. He gave her a bit of slack, letting her arms sink down once she was back to being obedient.

Her face was wet with tears and sweat, her knees were starting to hurt, and her nipples burned.

“Don’t like this, do you?”

“N-no, Master.”

“Why not?”

“Out of control. It’s out of control.”

“I assure you, it’s not. I am perfectly in control. Look at me.”

Blinking, she looked over at him, view partially obstructed by a strand of hair that had fallen over her eye and stuck to her wet face.

“You may feel like you’re spinning out of control, but I’m not. I’m right here, baby.”

Something slid and shifted inside her. Her frantic pace slowed as she looked over at him.

She’d done what he ordered. She was naked, bound, belled, and fucking herself at his command.

Yet part of her held back. Part of her refused to let go, because she couldn’t bear to be truly out of control. If she didn’t hold herself tight, she might spill apart. The nature of the universe was chaos, not order.

But Leon was in control. He could be the order she needed if she let him.

The epiphany was there and gone, filed away for later examination, as she let herself sink into his gaze.

Cessie submitted. Submitted in a way she hadn’t in a long time. She didn’t care that she was a sweaty mess, or that none of this was quite right—from the too thin dildo to the constant, maddening sound of the bells.

Because it was right, it just wasn’t the type of scene she was used to. Wasn’t controlled elegance, or precise savagery.

Cessie didn’t stop moving as Leon held her gaze. He’d ordered her to fuck herself and she would. She wasn’t going to be frantic and fast in hopes of getting past this to the next thing. If her Master wanted to watch her get sweaty and frustrated as she fucked herself, then that’s what she would do.

He released the jesses, and without him needing to order her to, she put her hands back on her head. The large bells dangling from her arms rang merrily though not as frantically. The sound no longer made her grit her teeth.

“Where are you?” he asked softly.

“Now? Green.” Instead of up and down, she rolled, working her hips in a circular motion the way she did when they had sex with her on top. “Five minutes ago, yellow.”

“And what made it yellow?”

“I felt… untethered. Out of control.”

“And now?”

“I don’t feel that way.”

She suspected he wasn’t fully satisfied with that answer, but he nodded. “Stop.”

She did, the bells finally falling silent.

“Once more take it as deep as you can.”

She wiggled her hips and sank down, feeling it push up inside her. She finally stopped, panting a little.

“Good girl.”

Leon wrapped his arms around her and eased her up and off the dildo. She felt a fresh rush of arousal fluid as the dildo slid out of her. Then Leon was laying her on her back, shoving the board and damp dildo off the far side of the bed.

He tugged one knee up to her chest, wrapping her hand around it in a silent command to hold it there as he bent to examine her pussy.

His fingers were gentle as he touched her entrance, checking for any abrasions.

“Good girl, you were nice and wet.” He spread some of the fresh arousal fluid up near her clit but didn’t touch it. He did kiss her thigh when her hips jerked in reaction to the almost-touch.

Straightening, he helped her lower her leg, then sat by her hip as she lay face up on the bed.

She’d instinctively positioned herself with her hands up on either side of her head, fingers curled loosely and legs spread.

While still facing her, he reached back, possessively resting his hand on her pussy, his middle finger sunk between her labia—almost but not quite penetrating her.

“You earned four punishments. I’d like to get them out of the way now.”

She was almost shaking with arousal and need, but she nodded. If that’s what he wanted, that’s what she wanted as well.

“Would you like to know what the punishment is?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Ginger.”