Ricochet (39 page)

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Authors: Xanthe Walter

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Slave's Signature

I have read and fully understand this contract. I

agree to accept the master's claim of ownership

over my body for the duration of the contract. I

understand that I will be used as a slave, subject

to the master's discipline and command. I

promise to fulfill the desires of the master to the

best of my abilities. I understand that I cannot

withdraw from this contract and it only

terminates if the master chooses, or at 8.59am

tomorrow, whichever is soonest.

Signature:

Master's Signature

I have read and fully understand this contract. I

agree to accept this slave as my property. I

understand the responsibility implicit in this

arrangement and agree that no lasting physical,

mental or emotional harm shall be caused to the

slave during his enslavement. I further

understand that I can terminate this contract at

any time.

Signature:

"Do you have any questions?" Rick asked, as

Matt reached the end of the document.

Matt glanced at the part of the contract

governing his own inability to end it. "This here."

He pointed. "Does this mean I don't get to use a

safeword?" He looked up at Rick.

"That's precisely what it means. If you sign it

then you'll be my slave, and I'll do whatever I want

to you. I can assure you that my tastes aren't

particularly unusual - I'm a strict master, and I'll

use you well, but you won't suffer. Well, not too

much." Rick rested his hand on Matt's shoulder and

squeezed, and Matt knew that he still had his

safeword. Rick had been adamant about that the

previous evening and clearly nothing had changed;

he was simply giving Matt a scenario where he

could have the illusion of not being in control.

Matt was impressed by Rick's meticulous

planning of this whole event. He'd never played

like this with a dom before because of his fear of

not being in control, but not being in control was

also precisely what turned him on, and Rick had

hit upon a scenario that hit all his buttons.

Matt picked up the pen. He didn't have to

sign. If he didn't, then he could bring the scene to

an end and explain to Rick that he was a total

coward who couldn't go through with it - but he

liked what Rick had planned too much for that.

This could be his chance to finally let go and

explore his sexuality with someone he trusted, with

no strings, obligations or expectations.

"One thing, " Rick interjected, as he put the

nib of the pen to the paper. Matt glanced up at him.

"If you do sign…" Rick perched on the side of the

desk, one long leg swinging languidly. "Then I can

guarantee that by 9 o'clock tomorrow morning you

won't be a virgin anymore." He gave a dark little

smile. "In fact, you'll be a long way from being a

virgin - I'll see to that." It was a promise and a

threat all rolled up in one, and it made Matt's cock

jerk excitedly in response.

Matt looked down at the contract again. He

liked that Rick had used their real names, allowing

the illusion, if Matt wanted it, that this was for

real.

Matt didn't hesitate; he scrawled his signature

on the page, feeling his cheeks flush as he did so.

Then he sat back and looked at it in disbelief. He'd

really done it. He was now Richard O'Shea's slave

for the night, heaven help him.

"Good boy." Rick picked up the pen and

signed beneath, with the same flourish he used

when signing autographs outside the studio gates.

Then he opened the laptop on his desk, pressed a

button, and turned back. "The money has now been

delivered to your account. All that remains is for

you to fulfill the terms of your contract."

"Okay. So…" Matt stood up, feeling

uncertain. "Uh… what do you want me to do?"

Rick was so fast that Matt barely saw him

move, but the next thing he knew Rick had grasped

the lobe of his ear tightly between his thumb and

forefinger and was pulling him forward. "What do

you want me to do - Master," Rick hissed into his

abused ear.

"Yes. Sorry. Master!" Matt yelped. It felt

weird to be calling Rick, of all people, "Master"

but then Rick wasn't behaving like Rick right now -

he was Richard, and Richard was pretty damn

masterful.

Rick released his ear and soothed it with his

fingers. "That's better. Don't forget again - if you

do, I'll punish you."

Matt thought that sounded promising, but he

wasn't going to risk courting his new master's

wrath so early in his slavery.

"Yes, Master," he whispered, glancing up at

Rick to see if there was any sign of the infuriating

man he'd worked with for the past two years. If

there was, he couldn't see it; Rick was completely

in character.

"Now, you are my slave, so you'll wear my

collar." Rick opened a drawer and got out a black

box, which he placed on the desk. He opened it to

reveal a beautiful scarlet collar resting on the

black velvet interior.

It was the exact same shade as the shirt Matt

was wearing - the one Emily had said didn't suit

him. Rick seemed to think the color suited him so

well that he wanted him to wear it around his neck.

Matt reached out a finger towards the collar,

but Rick smacked his hand away. "This collar, like

your body, belongs to me. You don't touch it unless

I give you permission," Rick said sternly.

"No, Master," Matt said, gazing at the collar

longingly. He'd never worn a collar - either for

work or in his personal life. Until he'd won the

role of Ben Harris, he'd only ever played ingénue

subs who were too young to be collared and so far,

nobody had cast him as a dom.

He'd never played with a collar during sex,

either - the doms he'd been with hadn't been

interested in that kind of submission from him, and

he'd never wanted to give it to them anyway.

Maybe he was a romantic, but something old in his

blood told him that a collar was important. It

meant something. It demanded something from both

the wearer and the giver: it imposed willing

submission on the part of the wearer, but it also

imposed affection and respect on the part of the

giver.

Matt watched as Rick took the collar out of

the box, undid it, and then moved towards him. He

wasn't sure if he should kneel, so he just stood

there, his head slightly bowed.

He felt the soft, lined interior of the collar

settle around his neck and jerked slightly, unused

to the sensation. He wondered what it was like for

Rick to wear a collar every day on set as Alex

Tanner. Had it given him, as a dom, some insight

into what it was like for a sub?

"Stand still," Rick ordered, and Matt

collected himself. He was a slave accepting his

master's collar, and even though they were only

playing at it, it still felt like a very profound

moment.

Rick tugged the leather strap through the

buckle and tightened it around his neck, buckling it

in place. Matt felt immediately constricted, and the

weight of what it truly meant to be collared

suddenly hit home. Subs walked around with these

around their necks every single day of their lives,

and he'd just taken that for granted before, without

realizing how it would actually feel as a physical

presence. The collar's light touch on his skin was

hard to ignore, a constant reminder that he

belonged to someone outside of himself, even if

only for one night.

"You look good in my collar, slave," Rick

murmured, stepping back and giving Matt a

proudly assessing gaze.

Matt wanted to see it for himself, but there

was no mirror in the den. His belly was churning

with excitement as he tried to come to terms with

the idea that he was now wearing Rick's collar and

was Rick's slave for the night.

Rick reached into his pocket and pulled out a

leash made of shiny silver links, with a scarlet

leather handle that matched the collar. He clicked

the leash into the ring on the front of the collar and

gave a little tug. "Follow me, slave."

Matt had never been leashed before, and he

hadn't realized just how owned it would make him

feel. Rick had set the scene so carefully; first by

his clothes, then by that contract, and now with the

collar and leash. It was as if he'd taken a peek into

Matt's most secret fantasies and arranged a

scenario that would satisfy them all completely.

Matt

followed

Rick

up

the

stairs,

concentrating on walking one step behind his

master like he'd seen in the movies, keeping his

head down but always striving to stay in tune with

his master's pace. When Rick stopped, he stopped,

and when Rick moved, he moved, trying to keep an

equal distance between himself and his master, so

that the leash didn't tug on his collar.

They reached the first floor, walked along a

hallway, and stopped outside a door; Rick opened

it and led Matt inside. The room was in darkness,

so Matt couldn't see anything. Rick led him to the

center of the room, placed his hands on Matt's

shoulders, and pushed him down onto his knees.

Matt was surprised to find a padded cushion

waiting for him - a proper sub's cushion that made

kneeling for long periods bearable. Then he felt his

shoes and socks being removed, leaving him

barefoot.

"Stay here, kneeling, until I return," Rick

instructed. "Use the time to fully appreciate the fact

that you're owned now, boy. You're a slave, and

tonight you're going to learn what it means to serve

a master."

"Yes, Master," Matt replied softly.

Rick left the room, closing the door quietly

behind him. When he was gone, Matt lifted his

head and looked around but the room was in

darkness, so he couldn't see much.

He tried to get his head around the fact that he

was kneeling here as someone's slave, with a

collar around his neck. This wasn't the kind of

thing Matt was used to. His sexual encounters had

always been so boring and safe. He'd never done

anything reckless like this… which was precisely

why he was here. The thrill excited him, making

him shiver in anticipation.

Was it his imagination, or was it getting

lighter? Matt could now make out shapes in the

room, looming around him, but he couldn't figure

out what they were.

He tried to relax into his kneeling position,

wondering how long he'd be here and what Rick

had in store for him next. Rick. Rick O'Shea. His

ridiculous, infuriating co-star. This was insane.

How could he possibly be about to play out a

scene with Rick of all people? Could he really

bend his head for Rick and allow him to truly top

him? Could he do that for anyone? He never had

before.

It wasn't his imagination - the room was

slowly getting lighter. Now that looming shape

over there was clearly visible as a sling, made of

sleek black leather, attached securely to the

ceiling. Over there was a St Andrew's Cross, and

there was a spanking bench in the corner, with a

rack of implements beside it that made his stomach

flip nervously. There was a big bed in the corner

and a row of cupboards on the opposite wall. Next

to the cupboards was a door leading into what

must be an en suite bathroom and next to the door

was a dresser.

As the lights slowly began to illuminate the

room, he could see that the walls were painted

cream, accented with scarlet furnishings, and

across the room, directly in front of him, was a

freestanding mirror.

Now that it was light enough for him to see

clearly, he was able to make out his reflection in

the mirror gazing back at him.

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