Enslaved by the Pen Ch. 06

"Are there knives here? Will I get to cut some fruit like a proper human being?"

"The knives are locked up Amelia."

"Of course they are," I muttered under my breath. It wasn't as if I could inflict harm with a sharpened blade when my hands were immobilized behind my back, and my feet now hobbled. I suspected Gabe was going to keep me close and constrained.

As he marched me to his den, my eyes surveyed the possibilities for escape. There was one main door. No apparent security measures were in place beyond the bars on the windows, and we hadn't encountered other people. His home's labyrinthian layout would be an impediment without further investigation. I would need to formulate a plan. Not only would I have to exit his home, but I would have to navigate off the sprawling grounds. The tasks seemed insurmountable.

Gabe jostled me from my reveries. I pretended I was examining the books lining the inset bookcases of his den. I inspected the spines of his reading material seeing that many of the titles were ones I owned and had read myself. I saw stacks of paper in folders, and then I saw the corner of a smutty magazine poking out from beneath the pile. Without the use of my arms, I nudged the stack with my nose, using my teeth to pull it out. It was a graphic comic whose cover depicted a naked woman with disproportionately large breasts, encased in latex, with only her mouth, asshole, and vagina available. Gabe approached me, pulling me to him by my waist. He slowly turned the pages, allowing me to read the captions. The predictably terrible plot had an innocent woman convinced into bondage to repay a debt. For a period of one month, she relinquishes her control to a Master who revels in introducing her to all manner of BDSM activities including bondage in all positions, object insertions, impact play, and more.

"Is this what you'd do while you were out of my apartment? Wank off to bondage porn as you fantasize about encasing your submissive in latex?"

"Tone," Gabe warned me as he clucked his tongue.

I rolled my eyes at Gabe's seeming uncharacteristic insecurity before I faced him. "I'm not making fun of you. I was curious. You never mentioned an interest in latex before. This scenario seems decidedly specific. Is this your ketchup in eggs? There's no shame Master. It's merely a preference." I parroted the precise words he had spoken to me in reassurance weeks prior. My comments unsettled Gabe. It was barely perceptible, but I noticed a shift in his demeanour, a slight unease. He righted his shoulders. Gabe didn't like being vulnerable.

His only response was to unexpectedly twirl me around and push my chest against the surface of his wooden desk. "Is that what you want Amelia? Does that get you wet thinking about being clad in latex and being forced to be my wanton fuck doll? Or perhaps this is more to your liking." He thrust a hentai comic in front of my eyes. It was a familiar sight. In my pre-abduction days, I had been mesmerized, returning to the familiar bookmarked site frequently. It had been the first sexualized comic I had ever read. I had it practically memorized. It had enraptured me.

"I know you fantasize about this," Gabe's breath was menacingly hot in my ear, deliberately provocative in its tone and lilt. His hand suddenly spanked the exposed globes of my ass. "I tracked down the comic for you." Again, his hand came down against my flesh, hard and fast. "I wanted it to be a surprise gift for you." The flat of his palm struck me again and again until the blush of heat rose to meet his strikes. "But I believe now is as good a time as any to present it to you." His hand struck square against my buttocks, inadvertently sending the anal plug even deeper into my depths. I didn't bother to inquire how he knew of my literary proclivities. The tentacles of his surveillance into my life, glaringly apparent. Gabe pressed his mouth to my ear. "One day when you're a very good girl Amelia, we will role play this so that you can be a very bad girl. After all, you wouldn't want to fail your classes would you little one?"

My ass wiggled of its own volition, seeking the thrill of his hand. Gabe brought his hand down again and again. "Please...Master..." I wasn't certain what I was asking. I was in chastity. Climaxes were forbidden. And then the words just slipped out, without intentionality on my part. "Please...Master...Harder."

Gabe only laughed. "So, my girl does like it rough," he breathed into my ear, before the thwacks of his hand struck against my flesh firmer and faster. I panted out in desire and then Gabe stopped, depriving me of the heat of his hand. Rather, he turned on the toys embedded in me. His hand was firm against my neck, holding me down. I squirmed as I fantasized about the scenario between the pages. It told the story of innocent Yuki, a schoolgirl who was failing one of her classes and offered to do extracurricular work for her teacher. Instead of written assignments, Yuki's teacher assigned her sex-related duties: learning to suck cock; being bound in Shibari to test her endurance; fucking her on all fours from behind; tied over her teacher's desk as he jacked off over her; used by all of his friends; tied up and gagged with clothes ripped open and made to suffer for the duration of the class hidden in a box under the teacher's desk, climaxing repeatedly; placed in stocks and ravaged. They were fantasies that appealed.

Gabe knew how to unsettle me, confounding me with sexual pleasure, and bringing me to my knees. Sexuality overruled logic. He watched my body climb higher to each plateau of desire. I didn't mean to relinquish my control so easily, but I breathlessly murmured out a "Promise?"

Gabe snickered; his equilibrium restored. His power intact. "Promise." He licked up my spine.

Gabe ran his hands down my shoulders to the side of my breasts before sliding them under, teasing the nipples. He cupped them and pulled my back against his chest. I could feel the wetness and heat gathering in my core. "I know you're excited just thinking about transforming into poor Yuki. Your clit is throbbing for release. Your ass is smarting from pain. I know my girl is dripping right now aren't you, even if you are thinking about how to plot your escape." Gabe whispered in my ear from behind as he abruptly cut the power to the toys.

I startled forward, but Gabe only spun me around so rapidly that I stumbled in my confusion. He gripped the sides of my arms so that I was staring up at him. His breath was hot against my flushed face, a trace of peril. "Don't think for a moment Amelia that I don't know you're trying to assess your opportunities. I'm not stupid. I know that you're not as vested into your submission as you were. I blame myself for my lack of prudence in punishing you. You've detached, even though our relationship trajectory was promising. I'm simply going to have to work harder to make you genuinely crave my touch again. We'll have to increase your training."

I opened my mouth desperately trying to reassure Gabe that I didn't require remedial training. My body couldn't tolerate more weeks in chastity, or more restraints. "I know you're my Master." My voice was soft as I lowered my eyes. "I know you control my life, Master. I know you give me pleasure. You treat me with kindness. You've observed how aroused I become with but one of your touches." I sank to my knees as best I could in my restrained capacity to demonstrate my subservience, masking the cringe I felt internally.

Gabe's fingers teased my lips before he inserted two long digits into my parted mouth, and then three. His fingertips inched forwards until they brushed the back of my throat, and I started gagging. His fingers remained, pushing deeper until they stilled and my watery eyes peered up at him. Gabe watched me intently as his fingers assaulted my mouth. He was waiting for something. He wanted me to admit that I was his vessel. It harked back to that first day when I resisted against his intrusions. And now but a few short months later, I was willingly accepting what Gabe offered me. He was demonstrating to me that he indeed could insert whatever appendage he wanted into whatever orifice he desired, and I would willingly abide by it because I was his. Through tears I nodded. He pulled back and I started suckling his fingers. He inserted his digits deeply again and I only sucked. I remained on my knees as he finger fucked my mouth with vigour, watching me gag and choke out sounds of desperation. In response, I relaxed my throat and opened my mouth wider to accept what he wanted me to take in.

When he finally removed his fingers, satisfied with my display of obsequiousness, I remained on my knees, my mouth open, gagging for breath, as the tears that had flecked my face started to dry. He stroked my hair. "We haven't forgotten everything have we little one?"

I nodded. "No Master. I haven't forgotten." I wasn't convinced that Gabe was persuaded of the sincerity of my performance.

"Are you wet Amelia? Did you enjoy having your mouth used by me?"

I only blushed at the truth of his assertion. The heat of desire and wetness apparent despite being in chastity. My response seemed to place a satisfied smile on Gabe's lips. If Gabe had intended to quell whatever fire kindled in me, he succeeded. I realized there was no utility in appearing insolent. He could read me. My reactions needed to authentically convey desire. That was when Gabe was most vulnerable and when the solidity of his resolve wavered. Surrendering to pleasure was a task I would need to enact with more vigour and credibility.

Gabe tugged on the leash, pulling me up from my thoughts, and I was shuffling through his house anew. He opened the door to his bedroom. I immediately saw the computer monitors with video feed into my apartment. Bafflement etched across my visage. This was my chance to use my "shock" and negotiate for some autonomy, especially after Gabe's attempts to ply my sexual desire against my rationality.

"What the fuck Gabe? You were watching me the entire time?" My eyes flickered left and right, trying to communicate shame at remembering the things he may have seen. "How long have you been watching me? Oh my god," I groaned, "what did you see? What did you see?" I attempted an air of hysteria for authenticity.

"Calm down Amelia. I only had the feed on for your safety. I wasn't watching you all the time."

I stamped my foot. Conveying frenzied panic was insurmountably inconvenient with bound arms. "You watched me. How am I supposed to trust you? You betrayed me. You abducted me and told me I'd be safe." I turned my back and bit the side of my cheek hard enough that tears appeared in my eyes. I shuffled to the bed and sat down, a look of dejection transforming my countenance. "How could you do this to me?" I whispered.

Gabe kneeled before me, tipping my chin up to look at him. He wiped the tears from my eyes, apologizing. "I thought you knew I was observing you."

"How was I supposed to know?" I mewed. "You told me I would be safe. I feel utterly violated. You must have watched me do things. I thought I had privacy."

"I did little one. I saw how much pleasure you gave yourself and found it immensely erotic. That first night when you called me to say goodnight, I saw you masturbating. I couldn't move my eyes from you. I saw how difficult it was for you to ring me, how many times you hung up before you mustered up the courage and allowed the line to ring. Then, I saw how you gradually started to develop affection for me, impressing me with your appearance, sometimes indecisive about what to wear, the orgasms you had when you didn't think I'd know. How you denied to me that you were playing with yourself, but I saw how you did almost every night fantasizing about me. Do you know how proud I was to hear you call me Master as you brought yourself to climax, even though I hadn't even asked it of you. I delighted in how you incorporated me into your fantasies. It's why I knew I had to force you to call me Master. You were doing so in private, but couldn't do so to my face because of shame or trepidation. You needed the stronger hand to propel you and encourage you to the beautiful submissive you are now. I'm sorry you feel violated. My intention was to ensure you weren't harming yourself. Do you understand?"

I shook my head, unwilling to meet Gabe's concern. Inwardly, I smirked at how pliable Gabe seemed. "You took something from me." I accused softly. "How am I supposed to trust what you say when you could be lying, especially after the last punishment?"

"I never lied to you Amelia. I told you that you would be safe in your apartment. You were. I merely failed to mention that there were video cameras. I recorded the live feed for your safety."

"That's just semantics," I grumbled. "You have copies of those things you mentioned?" I looked at him with what I hoped was fear.

Gabe placed a warm hand on my shoulder. "Nobody will see them, Amelia. I would not compromise the safety of my submissive. Your sexuality is mine to own." Gabe strode back to the table and opened a computer folder. I followed. There, hundreds of files were labelled, time stamped, and dated, as well as key word tagged. I saw titles such as first orgasm, touching herself in shower, Amelia crying, first phone call. I tried not to curl my lips into a derisive snarl. It was grotesque that he was digitally archiving these moments and watching them ad nauseum.

"Show me," I said it so quietly I don't even think Gabe heard. "Show me," I shrieked.

Gabe startled. He sheepishly opened a video. I was on all fours, rocking as I pushed each successively larger bead into my anus. When I had seated the entire strand, I flopped on my back and parted my legs widely, holding a vibrator to my clitoris. I watched myself in recorded time work towards a climax, lifting my hips, pushing the vibrator more firmly against my clit, until I begged unseen Gabe for permission to climax. I remembered performing this scene. I knew Gabe would appreciate it, particularly since in a haze of artistic license I had muttered about being a dirty slut that deserved to be spanked, before my pussy and asshole clenched down hard.

"Do you watch these?" I found my voice.

"Sometimes Amelia. Please know that I meant no malice. I'm sorry that it bothers you so much."

"That's the worst unapology I ever heard." Petulance and disgust agitated my tone. "You're sorry that I'm offended by it. Think about how I feel. I learned that everything I did in my purportedly safe apartment was recorded. You saw me do everything, use the washroom, shower, eat, play with myself. What about a sincere apology Master?" I knew I was pushing the boundaries of a punishment. I needed to portray some semblance of authentic disappointment and outrage at being violated. "What about recognizing that what you did wasn't right, that everything you've done isn't right."

Gabe palmed my cheek. "Amelia? Look at me."

I raised my eyes to his.

"Amelia, I'm sorry that I violated your privacy. It was wrong of me. I'm still atoning for the punishment you endured. I should have told you that I was recording you. You deserve more respect than I've demonstrated."

I nodded, remaining sullen. "Are there video cameras here."

Gabe nodded. "My security team insisted on it."

His security team? Were they monitoring the premises? If I was able to alert the team to my presence, would their loyalty to Gabe foil my escape attempt?

Gabe sensed my thoughts. "I live alone Amelia. No one will come for you. You need not even attempt anything. The cameras are purely for my protection. Enough about this. To your bedroom." Gabe's hand cupped my waist as he ushered me down the hall towards the last door. The clothes Gabe had removed the first day he collared me were transferred to the barely occupied closets. Tastefully decorated, the space contained a large ensuite, a TV, a separate sitting area, and a Queen bed. "This will be your room little one. You can decorate it any way you'd like. I'm happy to accommodate your preferences and buy new furniture."

"Is there a camera here?" Nothing else mattered.

Gabe nodded. "Multiple."

"Can you disable them? I believe I'm due some privacy."

"Not yet little one. You haven't earned it."

I was justifiably incensed. I hadn't earned it? I hadn't tolerated months of captivity at the hands of Gabe's sexual deviance to have a small measure of unobserved freedom? What had depravity cost me? How had his machinations ruined me? I was standing with my arms restrained, my ass and vagina filled, wearing a chastity device, my feet hobbled, and moments ago, on my knees swallowing his fingers down my throat. What was the point of feigning compliance if he wasn't going to reward it? My nostrils flared as I tried to rein in my temper. "How dare you say I haven't earned it. Not only did you violate my trust in my apartment by spying on me and recording me, but you also punished me out of undeserved anger. Now you won't grace me any measure of autonomy. Have I defied you lately? It's not fair!" Tears spilled down my cheeks. I was at the edge of my emotional tolerance. I was exhausted from this life, from his expectations, from my own deceptions and machinations towards achieving freedom.

Gabe scooped me up and carried me to the bed, unlocking my arms. I drew my arms around my knees, tucking into myself. He pulled the blanket over my shoulders, as he held me while I sobbed uncontrollably. I couldn't fathom how I had earned freedom only to be confined once again. I had merely transferred locations of my servitude. The realization was terrifying and discouraging.

"I want to feel normal," I sputtered out. "I want to have something that's mine," I wept. "Everything has been taken from me. I can't even fucking pee without your say. My body isn't mine to do as I want. It stops and starts with a flick of your finger. How much do I have to lose before there's nothing of me left Gabe? You promised me that I would remain Amelia. I don't even recognize who I am anymore. I'm just some deferential, unthinking sex slave." I wailed.

Gabe tried to soothe me, unsuccessfully. I cried as his arms tightened around me and he planted soft caresses down my neck. "Who you are as a submissive is an inherent part of your disposition. You're an autonomous being. You're not unthinking." Gabe tried to reassure me.

I wanted to commit violence on Gabe's face and put his balls in a humbler. If I used aggression, my punishment would be severe. I couldn't withstand another night of strappado, or a hogtie, or a pussy spanking. "It's not that," I choked out. "I understand I'm submissive. I long for the control. I thrive under it. But I don't feel like I used to before you abducted me. Every move I make is surveilled. I'm so controlled that nothing feels like me anymore. I want you to trust me. I want to be able to hold a knife and cut fruit like a normal person."

"Trust and letting go are two separate matters little one. I trust you. You haven't given me any reason to distrust you. But I can't release you, not until I see how well you adjust to the new space, and not until I'm convinced you're trained."

I didn't care. I thrashed against him in frustration, kicking backwards and contacting his shins. I was frustrated at his supposed justifications. "Just leave me alone to cry by myself."

"That isn't going to happen." Gabe squeezed me impossibly hard. "I'm not leaving you alone. Not when you're this emotionally fragile."

I sniffled. The back of my hand wiped away the evidence of my misery. "I want to feel like somebody cares for me." Despair underpinned my new life. My old life was but a fleeting fragment of memory, that with each day became more difficult to grasp onto. I shook my head. "Just leave me be please." I drew up the blanket to my chin. Gabe curled up around me.