Enslaved by the Pen Ch. 01

"I thought I'd have a bit more time before you realized something was off. You're too observant little one." He closed the gap between us until he was standing but a few feet away. Gabe stepped forward slowly. "Put the knife down little one. You'll only hurt yourself if you try anything."

I held it up, thrusting it erratically at the air as my eyes wildly looked past his hulking figure to the opened, unlocked door. I calculated the probability I could mortally wound him. If I surprised him, perhaps I wouldn't be overpowered with the extra 80 pounds he had on me. I had the knife after all. I had to get out. This was my opportunity. I lunged at Gabe and plunged the knife into his stomach. Gabe grabbed the handle and stumbled backwards unsteadily before collapsing on the floor. I ran to the opened door intending to run. Except, what greeted me beyond was another locked metal door.

"NO," I wailed. I pulled at the doorknob. I kicked at the door. My fists pounded. "Help! Help me. I've been kidnapped!" I screamed at whoever was on the other side.

The gentle warmth of Gabe's hand on my shoulder startled me and I turned suddenly and reared up against the door trying to put as much distance between us. He held the knife up. "It's a prop knife, retractable blade. See." He stabbed himself with it and I saw the blade disappear into the hilt. "I didn't know whether you'd be violent little one so I couldn't take the risk. I was right. You're feisty and a fighter."

"Stop fucking calling me little one. Let me out right now. Joke's over. Just let me go. Please." My eyes implored him. "I can pay you. I have some money. Is that what you want?" He remained impassive to my pleas and bargaining. "I can log into my banking and transfer you some money. I don't have a lot but I'm sure we could negotiate a sum that would make it worth your while."

He took a small shuffle towards me, and I shrank into myself again. Another step, and my fist jutted into his abdomen. Except, my curled fingers met the hardness of his abdominal muscles and provided no yield. I raised my opened palm to slap his cheek. Gabe grabbed my wrist and held it, with force, pushing gently yet persistently against the flesh until I winced with pain.

"Now little one. Have you worked your frustration and fear out yet? Are you ready to talk instead of being violent?"

My back pressed painfully hard against the metal door as I pondered my predicament. My strength was no match for Gabe, as evidenced by Gabe's effortless hold on my wrist. I unclenched my other fist. Perhaps rational thought and reasoned arguments would appeal to Gabe. I could only achieve such if I listened to him. At the very least, it would provide me with some time to think about my next step.

I nodded. "Release my wrist please Gabe." I tugged it out from his grasp. "No more punching today, I promise."

Gabe sidestepped and I walked across his line of vision. With my other opened palm, I raised myself on my tip toes and I slapped him by surprise. The crisp sound of my opened palm against his cheek crackled through the room.

"I said no more punching. I didn't lie." My voice was tinged with defiance. "You going to hit me because I did exactly what I said I was going to do?" I craned my neck upwards and stared at him with my narrowed eyes.

He opened his mouth, working his jaw laterally back and forth to lessen the sting. His eyes flashed with a glimmer. "Well, that was unexpected. I see that you have quite a bit of fight in you Amelia. I like that."

We stared at each other, a silent standoff, each of us waiting for the other to make a move. I unfurled my other fist and wiped my hands on my t-shirt. Gabe watched me.

I ran towards the bathroom, attempting to lock myself in. At least I'd have access to water. But Gabe grabbed me before I could reach the tiled room. With one smooth movement he gathered both my wrists in his big hand and spun me around, disorienting me. The cold press of metal wrapped around my wrists and the handcuffs ratcheted closed around my wrists, tight. I struggled, pulling against the restraints, thrashing my body against his. I kicked at him, making contact with his shin and I attempted to knee him in the groin. My bodily contortions provided little difficulty for Gabe to quell as he simply pressed me to my knees and held me there. He reached for something in my ottoman. The roughness of tape wound around my ankles, binding me in an upright kneeling position.

"I didn't want to do this Amelia. I thought we could have a rational discussion without having to resort to binding you. You've always seemed reasonable and open to communication. I may have misjudged you."

"Fuck you!" I spat at him as I flailed against the bindings. "You don't know anything about me," I hissed at him. "You think dancing with me for a few hours last night gives you any knowledge of who I am? Let me go," I shrieked at inhuman decibels.

"Okay then." He pulled a strip of tape and pressed it against my lips.

I grunted into it, trying to blow the adhesive strip off. He stood in front of me. My heavy, ragged breaths filled the silent room. The frantic rapid heaving of my chest triggered my panic and I inhaled for air desperately, my nostrils flaring for any oxygen. He cupped my cheek and I attempted to shuffle back out of his grasp. He pinched my shoulder, immobilizing me into place.

"Amelia look at me." His other hand grasped my chin and forced my watery eyes upwards to look at his face. "Take a deep breath. You're okay. Just breathe. I don't want you to hyperventilate."

Gabe held my gaze and breathed in tandem with me, trying to encourage calmer breaths. "That's my girl. Deep, slow breaths. Calm down."

He leaned down and dabbed the tears from my eyes, wiping my cheeks of the falling moisture. "Blow," he instructed, and I cleared the congestion from my nose.

"Amelia, I understand how frightening this may be for you right now. I assure you that I have no intention of hurting you. It's the exact opposite. I want to nurture you and your spirit. Through time, you'll soon come to find that your place is at my feet little one. Not only that, but you'll crave it. You'll willingly surrender it to me and to my touch. You'll beg me to fuck you, to claim you, and to own you as I know you long to do."

I visibly cringed at his words. Willingly surrender? Who did this man think he was? I looked around, desperately searching for something that would provide me leverage to fight him off. The magnitude of the situation crashed upon me in that instant. With my ankles and arms bound, and now speech silenced, I had nothing left I could fight with. He was going to do unspeakable things to me, on my body, to my mind, and when he was done using me, he would make me disappear. I would never see my friends again. What about Mittens? She was going to starve to death in my apartment.

The realization started my tears anew, and I slumped forward, my body unable to keep my fear at bay. Who was this man? I was in what appeared to be my apartment, which meant that this was premeditated. He must have observed me for a long enough time to know everything about my home and recreate it. Where had I met him before? He couldn't have done this in the few hours between our dancing and now. Where would he have found my ugly orange striped curtains from?

"Look at me Amelia," his fingers again grasped my chin pulling upwards, righting my posture as he pulled me upwards. "Breathe. You're okay. I'm not going to hurt you. You're safe here." His thumbs wiped the fresh tears from my eyes.

"I've been watching you for some time before I introduced myself to you at the club yesterday. I took painstaking efforts to replicate your living quarters so that you'd feel at home and comfortable. Some of the things are actually from your home. Others, I recreated from the surveillance I conducted on you. I want you at ease. But you are too observant little one. You noticed insignificant things that lesser individuals would have chalked up as coincidence or oddity. You pieced together that something wasn't right almost immediately. As I stated before, I was hoping that I had more time before your early morning panic to get everything in place. Mittens is safe. I assure you I did not hurt her. I'm not a monster."

I keened into my gag and struggled. My abductor wasn't a monster? He had apparently diabolically schemed to abduct me and replicated my apartment down to the smallest detail in an attempt to deceive me into compliance. His grip tightened on my jaw, forcing me to refocus my eyes on him.

"You're probably wondering why I abducted you. I wouldn't call it an abduction per se. I see it as performing a mutually beneficial service for both of us. I know you've had fantasies about being submissive to a dominant man. I could tell from our interactions yesterday how aroused you became when I became more forceful and leaned into my dominant nature. The way your body shivered and responded to my touch when I trailed a finger down the nape of your neck was all the confirmation I required. At first, I thought it was all bravado and fantasy, innuendo that was exaggerated for the sake of artistic license. But when you were in my presence yesterday, and you so willingly came under my hand in public, I sensed your need to be owned. I had it confirmed with the wetness between your legs when I suggested a few descriptive scenarios of the submission ilk."

Who the fuck did this man think he was? A brief hours-long interaction and he had apparently ascertained my innermost thoughts with a display of arrogant certainty, that while accurate, wasn't his to claim. Artistic license? What was he talking about? I looked at him questioningly.

"I'm not wrong am I Amelia? You've always dreamed of interacting with a man who has a more dominant hand?" He looked at me seeking confirmation.

I glared at him as I sucked in air through my nose. I refused to acknowledge his question.

"I bet if I reached underneath your panties and slipped a finger into your slit, it would be wet."

I struggled out of his grasp and shimmied backwards, trying to thwart his advancing finger. My bound form was no match of course, but I wasn't going to let a perfect stranger insert a digit or two into me without a fight. In my wriggling, I managed to land on my back and hefted my bound legs upwards, kicking the air in front of me.

My self-defence attempts were comically futile. He kneeled down and easily grabbed my legs, flipped me over onto my stomach, and then pulled me across his lap. I heard the thwack of his opened palm on my buttocks before I felt the sting. His palm made contact again and again, each strike no harder than the first. I arched my back upwards trying to escape. He pushed me down by the small of my back, kneading the flesh of my buttocks.

"Isn't this what you've always dreamed about Amelia? Haven't you always wanted to be spanked by a man with a forceful hand?"

It didn't matter that I had previously dreamed of such things, fantasizing about them as my own fingers brought myself to pleasure at the erotic imagery in the lonely hours when my exes were sleeping. I certainly wasn't going to admit that to him. When his finger teased underneath the elasticized edge of my panty's leg opening, snaking its way to my innermost core, I bucked frantically. He needn't know reality.

His finger found wetness. I had been excited by his spanking. I hated admitting the frailties of my human body. I was bound, gagged, and my body betrayed my arousal to my kidnapper. Think stupid thoughts, I willed myself. Images of puppies and kittens and flying sheep occupied my mind in an attempt to distract me from the inevitability of desire I could feel slowly creeping towards fruition. All the while, Gabe's fingers were relentless in their teasing of my silken folds, masterfully drawing more moisture.

"Hmmm, very wet. Just like last night," Gabe commented as his finger inched deeper within me, stroking my vaginal walls. His fingers curved downward, finding the spongy flesh of my G-spot, pressing down and caressing it slowly. I wriggled on his lap trying to escape his touch. He only held me against his lap firmer as his finger continued its persistent assault. I could feel the deep pull of desire as he stroked me. His thick finger withdrew and penetrated me again with a steady rhythm before he added a second. The slickness of my arousal provided a lubricated opening for his third finger.

I shook my hips trying to buck his fingers out of me. I didn't want to climax by his hand, but the way his thumb was rubbing my throbbing clit and his fingers were stroking my G-spot was enough for me to feel the familiar tightening in my core.

"Are you going to climax for me Amelia?" he whispered. "Did getting spanked arouse you? Do you enjoy getting fucked with my fingers?" He increased the rhythm by which he penetrated me, his thumb now moving frantically in its singular pursuit to wrench an orgasm from my unwilling mind.

I mewled through my taped mouth. I didn't want to orgasm over his lap, but my hips bucked involuntarily as I unconsciously pushed back against his pounding hand. The intensity of the feeling was too near culmination for me to prevent it. I panted through the gag as I tensed, my inner core clenching down on his fingers as my neck strained and my body fell over the precipice of pleasure.

Gabe's lips came down against my neck, a soft caress of flesh upon flesh. "Come for me my sweet yearning Lolita."

My body shuddered through the peaks and ebbs of desire. My shoulders heaving forwards with the exertion of my climax. My ears rang as the pleasure overwhelmed me. My pussy spasmed on Gabe's fingers and my thighs strangled his wrist, clamping down to prevent its withdrawal.

"I've long dreamed about watching my little Lolita come under my hand. And now, my hand is trapped in her cunt. You look beautiful when you come. I could watch you all day."

As I came down, my eyes widened, finally registering what he had whispered to me. Lolita?

Gabe removed his hand, slowly sliding it up towards the crinkled star of my anus, using the lubrication already coating his fingers to prod the hole before slipping the tip of his finger into me.

I mewed into my gag, rocking side to side. Gabe pushed his finger deeper.

"If you keep on moving Amelia, I'll insert my entire finger in your tight ass. I hope to take this one day."

I stilled, fearing Gabe would do just that. As he removed his finger, I struggled in his grasp again. He placed me on my back on the floor. I looked up, my eyes wild with fear. I looked at the grin on his visage.

"Did my little Lolita just come for me with my fingers deep within her pussy?"

I hadn't misheard him. He was someone who knew I wrote and posted erotica under my pen name.

He inched towards me as I cowered, breathing hard.

"My friends call me Gabriel. I believe you know me as El."

My brown eyes startled as I gazed into the green orbs of my pen pal.