Enslaved by the Pen Ch. 05

Chapter Five: Her Submission Deepens

That night, as I stared at myself in the mirror, dwarfed by Gabe's figure before he claimed me of my own volition, I saw my servitude for the first time. It shattered me in a way that I acknowledged I couldn't heal from. I tried mentally through the next few days to reassemble the fractured bits of myself, but my efforts were wanting. Gabe had whittled away at my resolve so incrementally that I erroneously convinced myself I wasn't harmed. But I knew myself well enough to recognize the untold mental damage he had inflicted on my psyche. No matter how hard I fought it, regardless of how I attempted to manipulate my situation, I was still naked, collared, cuffed, and imprisoned, and utterly at Gabe's mercy.

Mittens proved my trusted companion in those days as my arms hugged my knees in a solitary dance. Gabe was never far. He didn't intrude or force his presence on me. His kindness didn't obfuscate the fact that he had kidnapped me. It simply made it easier to co-exist in my captivity. The dissolution of my resolve was attributable to Gabe's successful insinuation in my mind that as much as I manipulated him, he was still the gatekeeper. Gabe reinforced my submission every morning. He'd stand me in front of the bathroom's vanity, with his hand possessively curled around my collar, asking what I saw. I uttered the same thing. "I see your submissive Master."

A smile would transform his visage and he'd place a tender kiss on my lips followed by a warm embrace. We enacted this ritual every morning, except on those days when my eyes stared through me, rather than at me, and I didn't repeat the dogma quickly enough. Those mornings, as the coldness of the bathroom tile pierced through the soles of my feet, anchoring me down, I instead saw the domineering hold of my kidnapper's fingers smothering me, rather than the purveyor of my pleasure. I thought fleetingly of the independence of my past life, and the representation of the collar's enslavement in my new life.

I couldn't deny that Gabe enflamed inarticulable passion within me. He manipulated my body to sexual heights I hadn't before experienced, using toys I hadn't felt against my flesh prior, in a power dynamic I only previously fantasized about. He made me confront the truth of myself. But on those mornings, as the collar's oppression weighted me down into paralysis, sexual desires paled in importance to my autonomy. I desperately longed for the mundanities of the outside world, to hear the honking of cars, and the inane laughter that fuelled social interaction. My inability to MacGyver a weapon out of some string, paper, and a t-shirt to thwart the biometric security system was a constant albatross to my liberty. Since the onset of my abduction, I had realized that I would never overpower Gabe. With my height and strength, I could never force my way out through violence. My body could not tolerate any more punishment in retaliation. My escape would always be actuated by acquiescence and guile.

The more Gabe believed me to accept this manufactured life, the more likely he would be to grant me freedom, especially since he had promised me as much. I hadn't anticipated that I would resemble his prediction. I transformed into someone who wanted his control, who begged for his cock, who revelled in the wanton debasement, and craved it. I was unrecognizable. Lust had wreaked havoc on my sensibility and self-respect. Reality was easier when I gave into the fantasy. I didn't have to think about the tightness of the walls as they pressed against my hopes of liberty. I could easily believe that Gabe was my enigmatic, handsome, boyfriend who delivered pleasure to me. In the light of my submission, I hoped that in surrendering myself and sacrificing my principles, Gabe believed I had properly given up.

Gabe's emotional intelligence made him highly attuned to my sentiments. He knew that I was not immune to the warring factions of my mind and emotions. Since that night, I waivered on the tenacity of my submission, partly due to my own self-loathing at acquiescing so readily and capitulating to my own baser instincts, and partially to the uncertainty over whether my actions would even effect freedom. I couldn't hide the fracturing as well as I once could, despite my best attempts to mask and appeal to his ego. It took more of an emotional toll to surrender with grace and acknowledge with acceptance. Freedom, I constantly repeated the mantra, was attainable, even if on some days I stopped believing.

It was on those days that Gabe pushed me the hardest to concretize my place at his feet and remind me that I was always going to be his. He never brutalized me. He appealed psychologically by emphasizing the pleasure in being submissive, and the freedom to trust that he knew what my body desired, even if my mind was silent in its refusal. Inflicting sexual pleasure on me was always Gabe's ultimate weapon against my manipulations. He knew it was my kryptonite; it brought me to my knees every time.

"Who do you see?" Gabe stood behind me, scrutinizing the uncertainty reflected in my eyes.

"I see your submissive Master." My voice disembodied, hollowed, even to my own ears.

Gabe peered at me with kindness, correctly ascertaining that my mind needed to be served notice of my place. "On your hands and knees." His voice was uncharacteristically gruff.

I looked at him with uncertainty. He held my gaze until I assumed his commanded position.

"Tell me about your fantasy, the one you're most ashamed of. You shared it with me before, albeit reluctantly. You confessed that you climaxed harder than you ever had when you envisioned yourself in that situation."

"No Master. You know this already. Please don't make me repeat it to you. It's embarrassing."

"I won't repeat myself Amelia. You are to be bared to me, mind and body." His voice tinged with censure. His finger pulled my head up by my collar, craning my neck uncomfortably.

I choked back my pride and quietly whispered to Gabe the thoughts I hadn't dare repeat. Silence my only companion as I waited, hearing the shuffling of Gabe's feet, and the busyness of his hands. It was then I realized why he had positioned me so. The thickness of his finger pushed forcefully past my anus, sawing in and out of my sphincter as he attempted to combat the tight resistance. He pressed the lubed nozzle deep within, in his finger's stead, inserting the entirety of the deflated balloon bulb into me. My body struggled, frightened by what I knew was coming. Gabe's series of rapid swats to my buttocks stilled me. "Enough fidgeting Amelia. Be still."

I knew why Gabe chose this. It was meant to be a demonstration of how much I needed this, despite my humiliation and discomfort. He was right. I relished in the sensation as my neediness prompted me to push back against his probing fingers. He squeezed the bulbs, and I felt the inner balloon inflate and the outer balloon press against me, creating a feeling of fullness as it formed a tight seal. Gabe pulled, ensuring there would be no accidental release.

"What am I doing Amelia?" Gabe was annoyingly pedantic.

"You're giving me an enema Master." My voice was small as my cheeks flamed. The rush of warm, sudsy water entered me as he released the clamp. The uncomfortableness of the pressure and cramping kept me on all fours. Gabe's hands never left my body. By the time Gabe stopped the flow, I had taken in one litre. I let out soft mewls of discomfort as he massaged my belly, encouraging the liquid deep into my colon.

"Let's see how excited my little submissive is shall we?" Gabe's fingers drifted down to my slit, which he knew would be wet with arousal. "Soaking Amelia, as predicted." His thumb wandered to my clit. I pushed back against his hand as his thumb massaged the stimulated bud. It was an admittedly exhilarating sensation feeling Gabe's fingers pleasuring me, alongside the cramping pain and occasional pull of the bulb balloon. Nerves sparked as my clit triggered pleasure centres deeply from within. Gabe refused me privacy as he permitted me release. The relief was immediate. I was back on my hands and knees with the double balloon bulb inserted again, and another litre of warm water flowing into me. Gabe's pleasure evident on his face as he witnessed my body twist and squirm. He was a klismaphiliac after all. My submission, particularly embodied as I was splayed like this, with Gabe's fingers barely stroking my clitoris.

"Beg me." Gabe's fingers stilled as he insisted on my implorations.

I wanted desperately to experience this. I had fantasized about this, written about it, pleasured myself to it. I didn't want to give Gabe the satisfaction. I had surrendered too much, too quickly. I needn't a confirming reminder of what we both knew to be true. My lips tightened. The more I gave in to my genuine desires, the more Gabe's oppressive hold on me became easier to reconcile. I was his captive. I wasn't going anywhere, not for the foreseeable future. That certainty I had ascertained after freedom was not actualized with Gabe's claim upon my body. I hadn't brokered my escape. I had simply broken myself. Gabe would do what he wanted regardless. Every calculated action he had enacted upon me was to sublimate my humanity and suppress my resistance. Gabe tapped the bulb nozzle. I shifted, trying desperately to pay no heed to the unconscious writhing of my body as agonizing sparks of pleasure released in response to the metronomic rhythm of his finger. My head dipped in defeat. "Master, please fuck me."

Gabe only smiled. "On your knees then. You know what you must do."

I crawled towards him and raised myself up as I reached for his zipper. I had yearned for this, to be administered an enema and then forced to give a blow job to a Dom before he fucked me roughly for his pleasure. With trembling hands, I tugged down the fastener. Doing this willingly was an admission that I was a consenting captive. I took the tip of Gabe into my mouth, sucking gently before sliding my lips past the head of his cock, swallowing his shaft into the depths of my mouth before I withdrew. He pulled my head forwards until he hit the back of my throat, demonstrating how deeply I was to take him. I wrapped my lips around Gabe's shaft as my tongue flicked the underside, before sliding my mouth down to the tip and pulling back. My cheeks puckered inwards and puffed out as I drove my mouth repeatedly over his length. He held my head still as my tongue encircled the tip. A cramp overtook me as the water churned within and my tongue paused as I breathed through the discomfort. Gabe tilted my head upwards so that his glans poked my pharynx. He watched my face contort in pain.

"You look beautiful Amelia, suffering like that. Suffering for me. You do so because you're my submissive, aren't you?" He withdrew from my mouth abruptly, his cock smacking my cheek as it swayed and bobbed in its own erotic dance.

I nodded. It wasn't enough. He waited. "Yes Master, I'm your submissive," I choked out.

He pushed me back onto all fours. "Legs wide, cunt up. I'm going to fuck you hard. Tell me why you want this."

I shook my head. I didn't want to admit my weakness.

"Tell me," Gabe's insistence reverberated against the coldness of tile.

Shame slung my head. "I want to feel your hard cock in my cunt as the enema is deep in my ass. I want to feel the cramps as you take me and make me yours. And then, when you're done, I want you to deny me the ability to evacuate until I'm begging and crying before you, about to burst, unable to hold it." I had admitted it, openly. My words were barely audible.

Gabe's girth pierced into me, without remorse, stretching me wide as I barely accommodated the growing swell of his excitement. The heaviness of his balls pushed against my parted and visibly moist vaginal lips. He grunted with each vicious thrust as he penetrated me deeply, gripping my hips. I groaned in pain and pleasure from the fullness within, and from his cock battering into me. He tilted my pelvis up for deeper penetration. His fingers massaged my clit as his hardness speared into me. Our bodies slapped out a crude tempo of its own.

As I begged Gabe to climax, his tone became threatening as he reminded me of the rules. Gabe continued ploughing into the swollen petals of my flesh. My breathing was rapid and uneven as I struggled holding off and falling over the precipice. The fullness and sensitivity engendered from the enema forced my body to chase pleasure at all costs. The orgasm, warm and frenzied, ripped through me as my cunt clenched around Gabe's cock without his permission. I pictured my degradation on display, with the nozzle and balloon bulbs inserted in me, while Gabe's cock battered into my abused pussy. The image was enough to cause a smaller ripple as I continued quivering. Moments later, as Gabe dug his fingers into my hips, he spurted his seed in me, his body pulsing with pent up need. He reached down and fondled my breasts, tweaking my nipples painfully. He pulled his now limpening cock out and walked around to stare down at me.

"You came without permission." His voice disapproving.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't hold it Master." I implored for lenience with my eyes.

"Hands and knees, ass up, head lowered." Gabe returned to the faucet and filled the bag again. "You will take another litre of warm water in addition to what you're already holding. You will hold it until I permit you to expel."

I remained in that demeaning position as the water slowly streamed into me. My already full belly was straining as the other litre churned its way into my colon. Gabe was immune to my moans of pain. If anything, he delighted in my misery and derived joy as the groans and sobs from the cramps overwhelmed me, and my abdomen roiled in spasms. Tears streamed down my face as I looked up at Gabe. "Master, please. I'm sorry for climaxing without your permission. It's too much. Please let me go to the bathroom."

Gabe tugged at the double balloon nozzle, exerting pressure from the inside out. I whimpered out a strained breath. "Have you suffered enough little one?"

I nodded, sniffling.

"Is that your decision?"

I shook my head, whimpering even more as I realized Gabe would not show me mercy. "No Master. It's your decision."

Gabe's fingers sought my blooming, glistening labia. "You must love the pain and humiliation Amelia. You're dripping wet." His tone was amused as his fingers continued their unhurried touches on my tortured flesh.

I forcefully pushed against his fingers hoping for a satisfying spark of friction. "Yes Master," I ashamedly confessed. Indignity was evident in my voice.

"Up you go." Gabe helped me stand. "Let's see if you learned your lesson." He sat me down on the toilet and handed me a vibrator. "You may evacuate after you've masturbated, not before." He sat on the tub's ledge and watched me.

I stared at the wand vibrator. "You...you want me to do it now?" My voice was shaky with restrained desperation as I rolled through another cramp and doubled over.

"I can wait Amelia. Can you?" Gabe leaned back. The casualness of his movements in direct contradiction to the distress I suffered.

I shook my head as tears splattered down. Gabe was facilitating my fantasy in excruciating detail I had confessed to him. In concession, I gave him my self-respect. I knew he would watch until I relented. I turned on the wand and nestled it against my clit.

"Legs wider," he instructed. "Eyes on me."

My eyes, clouded with shame, lifted to Gabe's wolfish gaze. I reluctantly spread my legs and pressed the whirring head to my clit, undulating my hips forwards, pulsing against the vibrations. My humiliation suppressed by arousal as it took little time for me to build. The spasms contributed to my excitement now, providing pleasurable bursts amidst the pulsation. I rocked the vibrating head against me.

"Look at my little one, fucking herself for my pleasure. Tell me what you're thinking." Gabe's hand was methodical as he stroked his engorging shaft, watching me. His eyes never strayed from the flush of my flesh as my own fingers grazed across my nipples.

Embarrassment bloomed over my body. My skin blotched crimson as I experienced pleasure by Gabe's command.

"Tell me," Gabe's voice was hypnotic as he lulled me into agreement.

It was hard to confess. "I'm fantasizing about Master fucking my ass and coming into it while I hold the enema." The thought of being so thoroughly dominated and humiliated was enough to start the inevitable climb.

"Eyes back on me." Gabe walked forward, crouching down so I couldn't avert his gaze, before he pressed the toy forcefully against me.

I panted as I surged towards the predictable start of a climax from the added pressure. "Master, please," I whimpered, "please let me come."

Gabe slid three fingers into my pussy with ease. The waves of desire coursed through me. "Oh god, oh god," I panted out as my body lurched forward. Gabe's strong grip on my chin kept me upright. My sphincter clamped down on the double bulb balloon in my ass, and my pussy tightened on Gabe's thrusting fingers. The intensity of the orgasm was unlike anything I had experienced. It commenced from deep within my core, pulling and teasing at the now tingling cramps in my belly, before radiating down to my vagina and the fullness from Gabe's fingers. As my body thrummed with excitement, and I trembled through the last pulses of my climax, Gabe took the vibrator away from me, and deflated the bulbs. I clenched hard trying to retain the water as Gabe instructed me that I was not permitted to expel until I had begged him.

Gabe stayed, watching me as I expelled, and providing reassuring touches as I cried. Gabe thought I was sobbing from the pain of release and what I endured. He was only partially correct. Gabe claimed me in the most humiliating way possible. My pleasure was his. Every part of me he claimed dominion over. Not just my body, but my mind, my emotions, and my fantasies. I knew that I couldn't go back to the normal life I had.

"Tell me." The green of his irises bore into me as his hand held my cheek.

I looked up then. Gabe's features softened, reminding me of why I had been enamoured by him that initial night at the club - how tall he stood, the breadth of his chest, the flex of his muscles, the tousled hair, the kindness captured in his smile.

"I'm your submissive Master." In that moment, as my mind was hazy with pleasure and overwhelmed by self-reflection, Gabe imprinted an incontrovertible truth that I was exactly where I was destined to be. I would always be Gabe's no matter my resistance. He confirmed to himself and to me that in a battle between my will to escape and my desire for pleasure, desire would triumph. Gabe had portended correctly. I had beseeched him again to claim me. It was borne not out of strategy, but of a wanton need to fulfil a long-idealized fantasy.

After that, I fell deeper under Gabe's enthrall. While I may have been his captive initially, I was now a willing participant. His relentless physical claims on my body disrupted the interminable hatred I felt towards him as my kidnapper. There was less active thought of my escape. I enjoyed being submissive and the freedom I felt in surrendering to him. Gabe's every command excited me and awakened my slumbering body. My flesh ached for the soft caress of his fingers, and I revelled in hearing his lavish praise. My own lips sought out the softness of his, and as Gabe pulled me into the strength of his embrace, I welcomed the affection. It was easier to accept pleasure and my place at his feet, than succumb to the sounds of my own despair in the bathroom. I rationalized my surrender to Gabe as a strategic concession. The belief had veracity. I would take pleasure where I could. I would enjoy what he offered. I would remember who he was. How else to survive the intolerable conditions of my captivity and justify my existence without continuing the gradual degradation of my sanity? Compartmentalization would be a necessity for my survival.