Enslaved by the Pen Ch. 06

I nodded, without conviction. Gabe told me once that my place was at his feet, and that I would crave his touch, and beg him to fuck me. He wanted me to voluntarily surrender myself to him in his space, to legitimize our relationship within the eyes of his abode. He had already acquired my submission in my apartment when I was trapped. He wanted it wrested from me again now when I was "free", at a deeper, more intimate level. It was as if Gabe felt compelled to cast my broken body and mind at the alter of his feet, without the demands of before.

Gabe hefted me up, my back on the desk. My arms were still uncomfortably crossed behind my back. He softly caressed my flesh and shoved a finger into my very moist slit. "You're wet little one. You're in pain little one? Why will you tolerate it?"

He was assessing the efficacy of his lesson. I was a diligent student. "Master wishes to see me endure. Master decides everything in my life, including if and when I climax, and if and how long I suffer. I remember my place, Master. I remember," my eyes pleaded with him, desperate. Anything to impede further training. I was expecting Gabe to claim me on the table. Instead, I remained on my knees, anally hooked until Gabe released me. In fact, after Gabe had completed his work, he returned me to chastity. Gabe had debased me so thoroughly and denied me the promise of pleasure. I had degraded myself for nothing, except his amusement for sport and spectacle. It was the lesson he wished to imprint on me.

It took little for Gabe to reassert his dominance over my body and mind. Each exercise was a facet into fortifying my obedience and his hold into the recesses of my cognition. My body had long become submissive to his every amusement, the moisture gathering at but a single word uttered from his mouth, and the delicate trace of his finger. With time, my mind resumed embracing Gabe's position as Master, especially when Gabe conditioned me to associate submission with deference to his will and authority. As the days progressed, the fight that had bubbled up became increasingly submerged with each task I endured. Subservience beckoned.

One night, we went to sleep in my bed. He had cuffed my wrists and locked my collar to straps protruding from the bed's sides. My chastity belt was locked tight. I couldn't move from Gabe's assigned position. Gabe was snoring but I was unable to find solace in unconsciousness. My cheek was pressed against Gabe's inner thigh, my mouth still wrapped around his cock. He had sent me to bed with a ring gag in my mouth. "Amelia, this is to remind you that as my submissive, you serve to please me. It would please me tonight that you service my cock and worship it. I blame myself for not more thoroughly embedding the lesson in you. Now, be a good girl and ask me permission to fall asleep with my cock in your mouth."

In the morning, my mouth was still wrapped around Gabe's now flaccid cock. He had instructed me that upon my waking, I was to pleasure him. As my tongue licked the underside of his penis, Gabe started pulling me towards him by my hair until he was pumping into me, his manhood halfway down my esophagus. He pulled out of my mouth before he climaxed and instead fucked me in the ass after he ordered me to present myself for his pleasure. I struggled to pull my knees under my body and spread myself wide for him given how I was restrained and without the use of my arms. He only pressed my cheek hard against the bedsheet while he took what was his. I was going to be "ass only" for the foreseeable future, Gabe hissed in my ear, until I had earned the right out of chastity and embraced submission.

One day, Gabe reminded me that ultimately all control was at his behest. I should appreciate what I was permitted. Gabe leashed me to him. I could only go where he travelled. My very movements were determined by him. When he walked, I walked. The speed of my gait was his choice. Humiliation bowed my head as Gabe forced me to kneel outside the shower as he washed himself after he had fucked me in the ass. Meanwhile, I could feel the slow slide of his semen as it painted my thighs before dripping to the floor below.

"Master, I'm scared," I confessed to Gabe as I looked at the implement in his hand. I was on hands and knees, my head craned upwards. Gabe only stroked my back as his fingers wended their way past my tight sphincter and pushed the locking butt plug into me. The metallic bulbous plug filled me. Gabe twisted the base, and I felt the plug open and expand, dilating inside. I mewled loudly as the opened petals stretched my rectum. Gabe pulled the handle ensuring that the plug's opened blades would not exit me. The locking pin was engaged and the clasp closed. I wouldn't be able to remove the plug without Gabe's authorization. To add to the indignity, Gabe attached a small bell to the lock, and a short length of metal chain leash.

Gabe pulled the chain. The plug exerted enormous pressure from the inside out onto my anus and I groaned from the exertion. My legs quivered and my lower back bowed as my body undulated to escape the discomfort. Yet Gabe continued pulling. "Crawl little one. I want to see my girl led by her ass. It pleases me to know that you're plugged up with something so utterly dominating."

I crawled at Gabe's command, disgrace and discomfort contorting my features as I felt the intrusion in my ass every time my knees dragged forwards. It was already humiliating enough that I was locked in chastity. But now, the shame of the plug as it jingled every time I moved enforced in my mind how attuned my body was to everything Gabe enacted, regardless of how demeaning.

"You are to wear this until I unlock you little one. Every time you move, your little plug will jingle. I'll know where you are at all times."

"Yes Master," I blushed and nodded, tearful from pained discomfort and constant frustration.

"Does little one have something to say to me?"

"Thank you for training me and reminding little one of her place Master." Gabe gazed at me with affection as he palmed my cheek and sent me to bed alone. I had finally earned some quiet time for myself he told me. I had been such a good girl for the past several weeks.

That night Gabe allowed me to sleep unaccompanied and untethered. His watchful eyes in the previous weeks had prohibited any opportunities to investigate my new surroundings. I knew I was being recorded. Weeks of being locked in chastity for "training purposes" had pushed me to my limit. I waited for the diminishing sounds of Gabe's foot treads as he retreated to his bedroom. I lay under the duvet, closing my eyes, my mind contemplating possible scenarios. At around 3 AM, when I was certain Gabe was asleep, I started exploring my room in earnest. Pulled drawers revealed nothing of significance. I looked out the window again trying to spot landmarks or even cars. Greenery greeted me at every glance. I turned the TV on but Gabe had programmed it so that I received the same feed as I had in my ersatz apartment. I wanted to know where we were currently, not where I came from. My city's local happenings only taunted me of a past that seemed increasingly impossible to return to. I opened the window and yanked at the exterior bars without success. I looked under the bed and only found harnessing straps to restrain me. The finials of the bedposts couldn't be removed. There was nothing sharp in the bathroom.

I quietly depressed the handle of my bedroom door. Gabe had inadvertently left it unlocked. I peered into the darkness, encountering the heaviness of nightfall. With one hand clasping the bell and leash affixed to my butt plug to silence its jingle, I crept out, past Gabe's room, and made my way downstairs to the kitchen. I ran to the front door. I engaged the lock, but nothing happened. Then, I noticed the extra deadbolts screwed up high, to which I had no keys. I ran back to the kitchen and rummaged through the drawers looking for anything that would disable the door - a meat pounder, a knife sharpener, a giant spoon. My search grew frantic as I found nothing of function, except a fork. I ran back to the door, jumping repeatedly to try to insert the fork's tines into the keyhole that I could barely reach. My efforts were futile. I ran back to the kitchen and tried the drawers again. Many were locked. Those that opened, contained linens and other soft textiles. Panic propelled my actions as frantic hands cast aside objects into the air, searching for my salvation. I had stopped caring if the bell and chain attached to the plug signalled my whereabouts. I had to leave before Gabe discovered my absence. I ran back to the windows and yanked at the bars confining me in my prison. They would not yield.

Gabe would see the video and my desperation, and I would be punished so severely, I wouldn't be able to walk or sit for days. If I couldn't leave, I could at least ascertain where I was, derive some clue as to my location. I turned on the television hoping to find a local feed that revealed our whereabouts. The newsfeed appeared to be in some Nordic language. There was an infomercial in another European language I didn't recognize. Channel after channel brought linguistic tongues unfamiliar to my ears. Every time I clicked the remote, another program would confirm what I feared, that I wasn't in North America. Gabe had transported me somewhere far from home. Nothing made sense. The electrical plugs in the house were of the North American variety. Gabe never mentioned the possibility of being across the ocean.

My body seized into petrified inaction as Gabe's fingers dug into my shoulder. "Are you quite done Amelia?" His tone terse.

I looked up and followed Gabe's gaze. The kitchen drawers were still opened. Cabinets were rummaged through. Items were chaotically amiss. Gabe marched me back and forced me to restore the kitchen back to its pristine sterility. As I closed the last drawer and the fear of my punishment drew closer, I collapsed on the floor, crying. "How am I supposed to get home if we're halfway around the world? I don't even know where we are," I bawled. "I don't want to be stuck here." I was starting to hyperventilate at the realization that I was going to be trapped forever under Gabe's hand, his sex slave, as he marched me around for his pleasure, while I was locked in chastity, never to experience another orgasm.

Gabe only looked at me with kindness as he stroked my hair. "Little one. I anticipated you would do this. I know how difficult everything is for you to accept. You continue to fight embracing your submissive nature for fear that you will lose yourself. I left your door intentionally unlocked as I knew you needed to face this realization yourself. This is your home now and when you're trained, you'll receive freedom. The faster you embrace that eventuality, the happier you'll be."

"I am trained. I am trained," I sobbed out. "I'm wearing a goddamn locking butt plug in my ass for you. I withstood multiple ruined orgasms for you. I inserted huge anal beads for you because you wanted me to. I suffer by holding enemas for you. I don't know what else I must do," I wailed. "I don't know how else to please you Master." How much more could I give to Gabe? As I lay on the floor, I realized how thoroughly embedded his control of me was, that even in my escape, I hadn't donned clothes, despite my closet being completely accessible. So engrained was Gabe's preference for nudity in my consciousness.

Gabe only patted my cheek. "No little one, you're not fully trained."

Logic called forth from the recesses of my mind that Gabe wanted me to genuinely desire him, to authentically crave his touch, to fall under his spell, which I had allowed myself to do prior. He wanted me to abide by him without reservation and crave being his. Everything was so much easier when I thrived under Gabe's control. I operated on instinct, focusing on pleasure. I had to return to that mental state, but it was difficult when the promise of freedom beckoned so much closer than when I was deep within the bowels of the earth. I could taste my freedom in the air every morning and feel it as it prickled my skin with its breeze. I just couldn't reach it.

He picked me up by my armpits and planted me softly on my feet. "Are you done? Have you gotten that out of your system?"

Gabe was eerily calm as he marched me back to my bedroom. I climbed on the bed as he instructed, my back to the headboard, and watched with detachment as Gabe locked my cuffed hands to the restraints above and behind me and secured my ankle cuffs to the restraints from the bedposts, my legs spread.

"I'm afraid this will be unpleasant Amelia," Gabe's tone was uncharacteristically soft.

"Yes Master. I understand. I deserve to be punished for trying to escape." I closed my eyes in resignation, waiting for the inevitable painful strike on my pussy, but none occurred. Gabe only sat on the bed and grasped my chin, gently forcing me to look at him.

"You've disappointed me immensely Amelia. I know that we haven't been the same since I punished you. I have no desire to enact that level of punishment knowing how mentally injurious it is to you, not until I know we're on the correct course. Tell me why you are having trouble forgiving me. Why do you run? Have I not treated you with kindness? Your pleasure is always paramount. Your wellbeing is always taken into consideration."

Tears dripped down my cheeks. Hearing Gabe convinced of his own magnanimity was demoralizing. There was no dispelling his uninterrogated assumption that I would embrace this life. I was shattered at the realization that I might never escape Gabe. My servitude eternal. How could I convince him to believe that my escape attempts were rooted in uncertainty, not flight. I needed desperately to communicate that falsehood so that hope could still ignite in the dimmest of choices. But without knowing where I was, what hope remained was quickly being extinguished. Compartmentalization was a worthy strategy in theory. I had convinced myself of taking pleasure where I could and despising him in the interim. In praxis, it was difficult to maintain. I would have to succumb to Gabe, accept his pleasure and mine, and regroup, to fight another day. I closed my eyes and braced myself.

"I don't want to disappoint you, Master. I don't know what's wrong. Before you punished me, I craved your touch. I'm trying so hard to get back to that place. I want to take pleasure in everything you provide me. But I don't know how to get there." I wept. "I don't know how to return there. I'm still so angry at being punished." I sobbed deep, ragged, hyperventilating breaths. I wasn't angry. It didn't matter whether Gabe knew the truth of my tears.

"I'm sorry Amelia. I failed as your Master. I allowed my anger and fear to dictate my actions. I lost trust in us, without cause. I was training you with gentleness, and then in a period of frustration, I forced it. I feel terribly about it. You must forgive me Amelia. We cannot continue on your path of self-destruction. Let yourself go. Allow me to nurture you. Embrace your submission fully and you will be free. Was it not satisfying when you were at my feet before?" Gabe's thumb wiped the wetness from my cheeks.

I didn't know how to respond, except to use Gabe's utterance of love directed towards me weeks ago. With his contrition still at the fore, I was convinced that his emotions could be manipulated, especially if I behaved as if I were falling in love with him. It wouldn't be a charade. I had caught myself thinking fondly of Gabe in the many moments of silence he imposed upon me while on my knees. It was worth revealing this truth for leverage. "I'm scared to let go Master."

Gabe brushed the hair from my eyes, allowing me to reveal what I needed on my own time.

"I...I..." I sniffled. "I'm scared because I have feelings for you, and I don't know their extent. I'm ashamed because I shouldn't have feelings for my kidnapper. But I think about you all the time. I get aroused when I think about you." I peeked up at him with shame.

"I care about you too my sweet girl, more than you know. Allow yourself to be free Amelia. I will take care of you. I promise you I will never hurt you."

I simply let go. I nodded remembering the freedom in not having to enact some Machiavellian scheme and to enjoy pleasure for pleasure's sake. In that moment as Gabe looked at me with kindness and softness, I wanted to stop fighting. I wanted to feel normal again, even if definitions of normality were skewed. I wanted to believe that perhaps this was my life. Gabe stood and pulled my ankles up to my wrists, attaching them. I was splayed indecently open, with my legs above my head, still locked in chastity. Gabe's mouth found warmth in the hidden crevices that his tongue explored. I fellated Gabe as his kneeling form cast a shadow over me. He unlocked the anal plug and contracted the petals and withdrew the toy from me. Gabe entered my ass teasingly slow. I felt every ridge as the head of his cock inched past the ring of resistance and he slid his penis into my anal canal. The skin of his scrotum pushed tight against me, and the barest tickle of his pubic hair brushed against my buttocks. My flesh wrapped snug against his stiffness. He stilled, relishing in how tightly my clenching flesh gripped him. He looked at me, leaned down, and kissed me deeply.

"Today, little one, you will remember as the day you willingly gave yourself to Master in his home, to his pleasure, to his need."

He pumped into me slowly, watching my face as the wideness of him split me agonizingly apart. Feeling the girth of him in my ass felt like a slow churn of my insides. He continued at this relentless teasingly slow pace, and I could feel my lower body tingle. My hips pulsed desperately upwards to accelerate the pace and generate more friction against my ignored clitoris. Gabe pounded into me then. The gentleness of before erased by his desire as he realized that I was his, that I relinquished myself to him willingly, without a word. Gabe kept his quick pace, drilling into me. His balls tightened and he grunted out as he unloaded into me. I clenched down onto him, desperately trying to provoke an orgasm, even if it was anally induced. Gabe only pulled out and used his semen as lubrication for reinserting the locking plug into me, before tapping the shield covering my clitoris and vagina, and ensuring that my chastity belt was snug against me.

Gabe's denial of my pleasure was intentional. My submission was not to be one of expectation, but of service. My pleasure was in serving him.

He leaned down, tucking the stray tendril of hair behind my ear. "You're mine. You'll always be mine. Today, you've realized it too, wholeheartedly, absent of obligation. It doesn't matter where you are. You will always crave my touch and control. You will always be open for me, vulnerable to me, wanting me. You will thrive under it. I will always be your Master." Gabe gave my body a possessive squeeze, before releasing my limbs, and spooning behind me.

I turned my gaze out the window and latched my eyes upwards onto the radiant orb that illuminated the darkness surrounding me. I tried desperately to imprint onto my mind the joys of the moon and the sun and the wind; the way home smelled and sounded. I tried to remember why I was staying the course of compliance for freedom.