Ricochet

Home > Other > Ricochet > Page 15
Ricochet Page 15

by Ashley Haynes


  “I love you too. I’m sorry. I want to talk about it though. Tell me what you need me to do,” I said.

  “I don’t need you to do anything. You’re not doing anything wrong. I shouldn’t have said anything,” he groaned.

  “Can you explain to me what you mean please? You’re right; we should be able to talk about this openly. Just explain it to me, so I understand. How can I be more submissive than I already am?” I prodded.

  “Well, so far, it’s always been more about what I’m doing to you that what we are doing together. You don’t really get much of an opportunity for action and consequence. I want you to have choices and get punished or rewarded based on how you choose. That kind of goes hand in hand with the dialogue too. You scare me away from using too much dialogue. Since we don’t have established scene markers or rules I try not to talk too much out of fear that you’re going to have some snarky comeback and I’ll smack you in the face out of reflex,” he explained.

  “You can smack me in the face, I’m into you smacking me in the face,” I blurted.

  “Noted,” he smirked.

  “Okay, so, let’s… let’s do it. Talk to me however you want. I’ll do what you tell me to do. Push… push my limits,” I stammered.

  “You might have some dysphoria again, afterwards,” he cautioned.

  “We’ll deal with it. Fuck me up,” I insisted.

  “Go to the bedroom,” he demanded. No argument from me. I bolted to the bedroom and sat eagerly on the edge of the bed. I’m nervous. I’ve been chasing the high from my first time getting subby for months. While we’ve had some excellent experiences, I haven’t quite been taken out of my head like I did that first time. I think this time might do it though, and I can barely contain my anticipation. Cash strolling in, dog crate in tow, interrupted the whirring of my eager thoughts. I watched in silence as he assembled it.

  “Well, get in,” he said, motioning towards the cage.

  “Should I take my clothes off?” I asked.

  “Did I tell you to take your clothes off and then get in?” he countered.

  “No,” I said, sheepishly.

  “Then, get in,” he barked. I complied. He closed the door behind me and zip tied it shut. He stood and turned to walk out of the room. I was not excited at the prospect of just being left in a cage.

  “Seriously?” I called after him. He walked back and sunk to his knees to face me.

  “Listen, that’s the kind of stuff you can’t do. Don’t question me. Don’t speak unless spoken to. Don’t ask questions. Be quiet, and do exactly as I tell you,” he warned. I took a deep breath and nodded. Fuck it. Let’s do this.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  This is boring. I don’t understand the appeal of being left alone with your thoughts; I was already full of anticipation, this is having the opposite effect. I wish I had the foresight to stick my cell phone in my pocket. Just before my boredom reached the brink of calling the whole thing off, Cash walked back in. He circled the cage and stared at me. It felt awkward and I had to fight off the urge to break the silence.

  “Do you want out of there?” Cash asked. I nodded.

  “Use your words,” he urged, “Do you want out of there?”

  “Yes,” I replied.

  “Why? Tell me why you want out of there,” he prodded.

  “Uh…” I hesitated. Because I’m fucking bored? Because my legs are asleep? I feel like these are not the answers he is looking for.

  “Because you want to get fucked. You want out so you can get fucked,” he answered for me.

  “Yeah,” I agreed.

  “You’re gonna have to show me something that would make me want to fuck you,” he insisted. I awkwardly pulled off my shirt. The crate was large but still constricting. It was difficult to maneuver.

  “Oh, not your tits, baby. You see one pair of tits you’ve seen every pair of tits. You’re going to have to do better than that,” he admonished. I struggled to wiggle out of my jeans and turned onto my hands and knees. I reached back and spread myself open.

  “There we go, that’s better. Press your ass up against the bars,” he ordered. I leaned back and repositioned myself against the door of the cage.

  “Harder. Make your skin bulge out through the grate,” he insisted. I pressed back harder. He sank to the floor and slid his fingers through the grid, grasping my hips. He pulled back, making me gasp as the wire bit into my flesh.

  “Push, push harder. Hold it,” he demanded. He slid a finger inside me. He released my hip and pushed me away from the grate when my breathing got heavy.

  “Get yourself turned around. Face me,” he growled. I clumsily pivoted.

  “Stick your tongue out. Out, through the bars,” he said. He thumped his cock on my outstretched tongue.

  “Beg. Beg me to let you out,” he asserted.

  “Please let me out,” I half-heartedly begged.

  “You have to tell me why you want out,” he disputed.

  “Please let me out so I can get fucked,” I panted, playing along. Cash pulled out a pocketknife and slashed through the zip ties.

  “That’s a good girl. Come on, crawl out. Faster,” he cooed as he led me out of the cage by my hair. He pulled me to stand. He wrapped his hand around my throat and led me, walking backwards, to the bed. He tightened his grip until the veins bulged in my forehead. He released me and I fell back onto the bed, gasping for breath. He climbed atop me. I squirmed and bucked as he struck my breasts. He clicked his tongue and laid a blow across my face. I instinctively closed my eyes and braced myself. He grabbed my face and jerked it towards him.

  “Look at me. Open your eyes and look at me,” he bellowed, “don’t fucking flinch.” I maintained eye contact as he struck me again.

  “That’s a good girl. Come on, get on your knees,” he coaxed, pushing me off the bed. He slid down behind me and hooked his arm around my neck. He applied just enough pressure to labor my breathing. He reached between my legs to stroke my clit as he breathed in my ear.

  “Here’s how this is gonna work. You’re allowed to come; I want you to come. I want to make you come over and over and over. But you have to tell me first. If you come without telling me, I’m gonna fuck you up. Do you understand?” he explained. I nodded in agreement.

  “Use your words,” he prompted.

  “Yes,” I gasped.

  “Say ‘yes, I understand,’ I want to make sure that you get it,” he repeated.

  “Yes, I understand,” I choked. He furiously rubbed at my clit, lacking his typical finesse. My body reacted anyway. I tried to comply with his request, but I couldn’t find the words. I repeated, “I’m, I’m,” as I pushed closer to climax. He knew my body and could feel that I was close. He whispered something in my ear, but I didn’t understand him. He let me fall right over the edge before he abruptly stopped and smacked my throbbing pussy. I squealed.

  “You tried to tell me,” he whispered, “but you need to try harder next time. Hold your lips open.” My hands were shaking. I reached them between my legs and spread myself open. He struck me again.

  “Since you can’t use your words, you’re gonna use your mouth. Get up. Get on your knees,” he demanded. I crawled towards him and sat back on my heels. I couldn’t stop shaking.

  “You’re not going to cry are you?” he asked, smoothing my hair out of my face. I shook my head no.

  “Open your mouth. If it’s good, I’ll let you come again. If it’s not… well, you’ll see what happens if it’s not,” he mused. He exhaled deeply as I took him in my mouth. He batted my hands away. I took him as deeply as I could and retreated.

  “See how far you can go,” he urged, “push yourself.” I took a deep breath and pushed his cock deeper down my throat.

  “You can go further than that,” he moaned. I tried to take more, and gagged. He pulled out of my mouth.

  “Okay, okay, catch your breath,” he said before inserting his dick again. He grabbed my head with both hands and forced him
self down my throat.

  “Don’t gag. Push. Hold it, hold it there,” he encouraged, “see, you can do it. How long can you hold your breath?” He removed his cock to allow me to answer.

  “Thirty seconds maybe,” I replied.

  “I’m going to time you. If you can make it the whole thirty seconds without pulling away I’ll let you have some dick,” he promised. I took him deeper this time, fighting the urge to gag. He pinched my nostrils closed and began counting out loud. His voice was oddly soothing, and I focused on it. The seconds dragged, and the added distraction of Cash’s cock down my throat made it feel like minutes. He finally got to “thirty,” and released me. I gasped for breath.

  “Good girl. I’m impressed. I’m gonna make you come. Get on the bed,” he said, pulling me to my feet. I laid on my back and watched as he quickly shed his clothes. He climbed on top of me, twirling my nipples between his fingers as he slid his cock into my eager pussy. I twitched and groaned as he cracked his hand across my tit. He mumbled profanities as he thrust into me and laid another blow across my face. He pressed his thumb against my clit, sending my eyes rolling back in my head.

  “You better fucking tell me before you come. You’re starting to get there, aren’t you?” he whispered in my ear.

  “Yeah,” I breathed.

  “Are you about to come?” he prodded.

  “Yeah,” I gasped. He pulled out and flipped me onto my stomach. He pulled me up onto my knees by my hips. He smacked my ass several times before entering me from behind. I buried my face in the mattress to muffle my moans as he hammered into me.

  “Get your fucking face out of that mattress. Look back at me. I want to see your face,” he demanded, continuing his blows on my backside. I twisted back to look at him.

  “Get that fucking hair out of your face,” he barked. I pushed my hair out of my watering eyes. He grabbed my arm and twisted it behind my back. I called out loudly as I again felt climax impending.

  “Are you coming?” he asked, continuing to thrust. I couldn’t answer; I could barely comprehend the question.

  “I know you’re fucking coming. I can feel you fucking coming. And you didn’t tell me. That’s it. You’re done. No more dick for you. Turn your ass around,” he exclaimed. I could barely move. He grabbed me by the throat and brought my face to his to scold me.

  “I thought we discussed that before you come you tell me. Didn’t we? Didn’t we talk about that?” he reprimanded.

  “Yes. I’m sorry,” I gasped.

  “Don’t be sorry, just fucking do better. I want you to come. That’s why we’re here. I just want you to tell me before you do. It’s a shame. Because now you have to ask,” he crooned, increasing his pressure on my throat.

  “Do you understand?” he prompted.

  “Yes, I understand,” I choked.

  “Good girl, you’re learning,” he said, releasing his grip, “so what do you have to do before you come now?”

  “Ask permission,” I stated.

  “Very good, now get up. Turn back around on your knees,” he ordered. My muscles were already weak. I couldn’t get them to cooperate. I tried to push myself up and couldn’t find the strength.

  “You don’t want to listen fast enough? Fine, come on,” he stated as he dragged me from the bed by my hair. He pushed me to the ground and dragged me by my hair back to the cage. He ushered me inside and slammed the door.

  “What are you going to do to get out of there this time?” he pressed.

  “I don’t… I don’t know,” I replied, holding back tears.

  “Show me how many fingers you can fit in your pussy,” he suggested. I conservatively slid three fingers in. He urged me to try one more. My heightened arousal and glistening wetness helped it slip in effortlessly.

  “You have two hands,” he reminded me. I inserted another index finger.

  “Tell you what,” he conceded, “you get two more in there and I will let you out of there.” I cried out as I stretched to accommodate two more awkwardly placed fingers. Cash unlatched the door to the cage and swung it open. He reached in and grabbed my hair, pulling me out onto the floor. I didn’t try to get up; I just lay there where he left me. He grabbed my face, turning it to look at him.

  “Are you done already?” he asked.

  “No,” I huffed.

  “Then get the fuck up. Get on the bed,” he demanded. I forced myself to stand and walk over to the bed. I laid on my back, awaiting further instruction. Cash dug in the bin from the other bedroom as I tried to collect myself. He dropped an armful of tools on the foot of the bed, and pushed me to move to the center. He lit a candle on the nightstand and climbed into the bed with me. He produced a length of rope, and pushed my knees to my chest. He gathered my hands together behind my knees, tied them, and secured them to my ankles, binding them together as well.

  “Alright. Flip over. Ass in the air,” he ordered. My movement was greatly restricted. Cash watched me struggle for several moments before grabbing me and flipping me himself. He grabbed the wooden cane from the end of the bed and began tapping it lightly across my back. This tool had very little give; a good whack was going to hurt. I braced myself. He dragged the tip down my spine before letting it crack down on my ass. I screamed.

  “Is that too much for you?” he asked.

  “No,” I assured him. He continued to strike me across my backside with varying force. He picked a spot on my left side and began gently tapping it repeatedly.

  “We’re going to do one good one, right here. Are you ready?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I replied. The cane felt white hot as it made contact with my skin. I was beyond feeling pain; I had ascended it. All I could feel was heat and pressure. I breathed deeply as Cash picked a spot to tap on the other side.

  “We’re gonna do one more over here,” he warned. I braced for the impact. My lack of reaction from the first strike encouraged him to bring this one down twice as hard. Tears involuntarily streamed down my face and a small sob escaped my lips.

  “Aw, you’re not being a cry baby, are you?” Cash mocked as he rubbed the redness emerging on my ass.

  “No,” I contested.

  “Do you need me to stop?” he asked again.

  “Keep going,” I challenged. Cash untied my wrists and ankles. He flipped me onto my back and pulled me to the foot of the bed. He pulled my ass to the edge and attached my wrists to the bedposts with leather cuffs. He secured my ankles to the legs of the bed with rope, wrapping the excess up to my knees and tying it off to the bedposts to keep my legs open. Cash cursed as he untangled several sets of clothespins attached to each other with string. He fastened a clothespin to the skin of my inner thigh, and another a few inches away, and another, and another until my skin was being pinched in six places. He did the same on my other thigh. He then attached a line of clothespins from one nipple to the other along the skin of my breasts.

  “Don’t fuck up this time, baby. I’ve got a special treat for you when you come. But you have to ask me first or you won’t get it,” he reminded me. He produced a bulbous vibrator and pressed it into my clit. I immediately began to tense and buck; the sensation was overwhelming. Cash left the toy propped against my clit and walked to the nightstand to grab the candle. He didn’t blow it out this time and allow the wax to slightly cool, he left it burning and poured it directly onto my chest and stomach. I screamed and writhed, grinding against the vibrator. He climbed over me and rubbed his cock against my lips. I parted them and he pressed into my mouth. I suckled as he reached to press the toy harder against my pussy. I turned my head to the side to remove his dick from my mouth.

  “Are you coming already?” he asked.

  “Almost, not yet,” I managed to gasp.

  “Are you okay?” he repeated.

  “Yeah,” I moaned.

  “Then keep fucking sucking,” he reprimanded. He reached his hand down to guide his dick back into my mouth. I let it just sit there like a gag. I was far too distracted
. I could feel myself building once again, burning white hot and molten inside.

  “Can I come?” I tried to say, muffled as I moaned through his dick. He pulled out and asked me to repeat myself. My voice felt small.

  “Can I come?” I repeated shakily.

  “Yes, you may,” he granted. I relaxed as waves of pleasure washed over me. Cash grabbed the string attaching the clothespins on my left thigh, and pulled. The clips snapped off my skin in rapid succession as they followed the string. I cried out and began twisting my pelvis faster against the soft rubber of the vibrator. He pulled the string on the other side, nearly pushing me over the edge. He balanced the toy back against me and stood back at the end of the bed. Every muscle on my body was rigid and ready as he slid his cock inside of me. I began my first gasps of climax as he ripped off the pins connecting my nipples. I screamed and shook my way through a soul wracking orgasm, pulling against my restraints and losing my vision. I floated there, outside of my body, in the space between life and death, for what felt like a lifetime. Cash worked on undoing my wrists and he continued to thrust into me, his own breathing becoming labored, the intensity of my orgasm getting him well on the way to his own. Free from their restraints, I let my hands wander to his waist, and grasped him as he pumped. He moaned and pulled away. He grabbed my hair, forcing me upright, and shoved me down onto his dick. He came forcefully and shook as I sucked out every last drop. Cash smoothed my hair back and bent down to kiss me on the forehead. He quickly untied the ropes binding my knees and ankles. Once free, I scurried to the head of the bed and dove under the blanket. Cash slid into bed next to me, pulling me into his chest.

  “Don’t fucking ask if I’m okay,” I blurted feebly.

  “Then can I get some affirmation that you are?” he replied. I responded by sobbing. I’m not even freaking out about it this time. I’ve come to the conclusion that being fucked within an inch of my life makes me react in ways that I don’t understand. It is what it is.

  “Shhh,” Cash comforted, stroking my back. “You’re going to have to calm down so you can tell me what you need. Just tell me what you need.”

 

‹ Prev