Enslaved by the Pen Ch. 07

I started running down the front steps, tentatively at first, and then with more agility, uncaring that my naked form cast a flesh-toned blur as I accumulated more speed away from Gabe's house. I was wearing nothing but my collar and cuffs. It was liberation at the cost of my dignity. My strides carried me down the asphalt drive, away from the house, past the fountains, past the pond and bridge. I kept running until my lungs burned as I frantically sucked in air with each forward step. I finally saw the estate's perimeter fence, and I found the inner resolve for the last burst of adrenaline to catapult me to my freedom. My hand stretched out, ready to fling the iron gate open when Gabe tackled me from behind. My face hit the ground with force as the skin of my cheek skidded painfully against the asphalt, leaving blood in its wake.

"No! Amelia stop!" With the full force of his weight, Gabe forced my body to the ground to contain my thrashing limbs.

I screamed as loudly as my compressed lungs would permit. Gabe's large hand only covered my mouth to muffle me. He sat on my back and pulled my head up roughly. The pebble he threw towards the fence sparked; the electricity crackling into the air. I stopped flailing. I could have been seriously harmed from the electrified barrier. Under the dominance of Gabe's hold, I was silenced into compliance. With Gabe's security cameras, the GPS in my collar, the electrified fence - escape wasn't a feasible possibility. Gabe stood, brushing the dirt off his trousers. He yanked me up and clipped the leash back on my collar.

"Going somewhere?" It was a nonchalant inquiry as he wound the lead tight around his knuckles. But when I looked into Gabe's eyes, I saw an intensity of rage.

"Just a walk. I wanted to feel the air on my skin." My response was purposely noncommittal.

"Not trying to leave Amelia?" Gabe's tone was clipped, accusatory.

I shrugged. "Maybe. Who knows if I would have been successful. I'm naked. Where would I go? I don't have any identification or money. Perhaps I could have walked right off your estate if your fence wasn't electrified. But the collar has GPS. You would track me like a tagged animal. You probably have armed guards outside or something right?"

"Or something." Gabe commented, brusquely.

Gabe shoved my shoulder and together we trudged silently towards the house. As we approached the fountain, I stopped. I gazed up at the night sky and twirled around as Gabe dropped the leash allowing it to dangle. My feet felt grass, ticklish on my soles. I rubbed my feet against the blades and laughed. I knew I was going to be punished for my escape attempt. I might as well enjoy my outside time while I had the opportunity. I ran, with airplane arms around the fountain like a fool, and splashed my hand in the dirty water. The warm air on my skin reminded me that I existed. I rolled around on the grass making grass angels as if I were a child. I ripped up the blades in both my hands and tossed them in the air like confetti, twirling as if a spinning top as the grass rained down on me. It was invigorating, life affirming to feel momentarily normal. I craned my neck upwards and gazed at the stars again. I had forgotten how easily it was to become lost in the twinkling of their infiniteness. I turned around, beseeching Gabe with my eyes, hoping that he would bestow mercy on me. We stared at each other silently until I sighed and dropped my head. "I'm ready for my punishment Master." My tongue was heavy in defeated resignation.

Gabe extended his hand beckoning me over to the porch where he sat waiting, before pointing at his feet. I kneeled before him. "Tell me why."

"Master should punish me because I opened the door and left without Master's permission and disappointed Master. But maybe in the future, I can come outside?" Hope brimmed eternal.

I knew this punishment would be punitive. I had never come so close to escape. The rawness of my knees, cheek, and elbows still stung from skidding against the hard pavement. Gabe yanked my collar up and locked my arms behind my back in one efficient motion. I heard the slide of leather from Gabe's pant loops and cringed. I despised the belt. Of all punishments administered, it was the one whose sting I feared the most. The belt was unadulterated pain, unwavering in its constancy, and utterly consistent in its insistence on gripping my flesh with every lash.

"Ten strikes on the soles of your feet. Twenty strikes on your buttocks. Count them and show gratitude afterwards."

Gabe fastened my ankle cuffs and sat me down, extending my legs and holding my ankles. The length of doubled leather hit the sensitive pads of my feet with such force that I was crying after the first strike. The pain was white hot intensity piercing through the instruments that almost delivered me to freedom. I didn't have the wherewithal to count amidst my grovelling. The blinding pain a deterrent to rationality. Gabe's patience was unnerving. I eventually called upon the reserves of inner fortitude to choke out a "One". I was sniffling out unintelligible phrases of contrition and my feet scorched as if fire licked at my flesh, after I acknowledged the tenth.

"Will you run again Amelia?"

"No," I wailed. "I promise, I won't run again Master."

Gabe's visage darkened as he leaned down and tucked an errant, damp, tendril of hair behind my ear. "I will punish you again, harder and with more strikes the next time you run little one. I know you will." His voice low, menacing, seething.

I wanted to scream vile obscenities at Gabe that I would crawl on shards of glass if given the opportunity. But my body couldn't handle what Gabe would dole out for my impertinence.

"We're not done yet Amelia. You still have 20 lashes to your buttocks?"

Gabe righted me to a standing position and undid my hands before fastening them above to a hook on the porch. I shifted uncomfortably, the soles of my tender feet barely supporting my weight as pain poked with each glancing step. Gabe attached a spreader bar to my ankle cuffs, widening my stance. I thrashed suddenly as I realized that he was going to belt me here, in the open, entirely exposed. Gabe only stepped on the spreader bar, immobilizing me.

"Master, please not here. Please punish me inside." I knew nobody was on the grounds. I didn't want my humiliation so blatantly on display, accessible to the public's gaze. Gabe's silence was an indication that he would punish me wherever and whenever his discretion elected. The length of doubled leather hit my ass harder than I'd ever experienced. I arched forwards trying to escape the pain. Gabe firmly pressed on the bar, halting all movement. It took me moments before I could formulate sounds as my body absorbed the radiating agony.

"One," I struggled out.

The second strike landed at the juncture of my ass and thighs. I yelped in anguish as the sting of the first had not yet receded. My tears flowed in earnest by the third strike. Shallow breaths interspersed my blubbering pleas for him to stop. "Three," I choked out. "Master please. I'll be good. I promise. I wasn't running," I snivelled. "I wanted to be outside." My words rang false.

"You were not permitted to open the front door, not without my permission. That was a rule."

He brought the fourth down so hard, the force of the leather tore the words from my throat. My mouth only opened in a silent scream of pain before hyperventilating sounds of agony erupted from my throat. I wouldn't be able to tolerate all twenty. "Four," I half panted, half wept.

By the time the eighth strike lashed against my flesh, my brain couldn't register where he had struck me or even how much pain I was experiencing. My body was flooded with stimuli from the punishing strokes of leather. My skin blazed with pain, radiating agony as I suffered Gabe's discipline. "Eight Master," I spat out. I reminded myself mentally that it was worth it. I got to be outside, and I could have escaped had Gabe not been there. I would endure one hundred lashes if it meant leaving my imprisonment.

Before the fifteenth strike, Gabe massaged my flaming buttocks. My flesh was stinging, and the throb of heat could not be alleviated. I flinched, trying to avoid any touch on the sensitive skin. Gabe held me down. He brought the fifteenth so hard that all I could do was cry. I couldn't even verbalize what number it was. I bawled, tears running down my face, dripping to the ground below. After a few moments, I managed to croak out "Fifteen."

Gabe was deliberately slow for the remaining five as the smoothness of the leather belt rubbed against my reddened, stinging ass, as if to taunt me. The belt cracked through the air as the swiftness of Gabe's strikes hit me. My body bowed forward from the pain, unable to support itself as every nerve in my body howled in anguish trying to escape the agony I felt. I was struggling to breathe when Gabe undid my restraints and pulled me onto his lap, pressing me into the expanse of his chest. I cried out at the coarseness of his pants on the broken skin of my buttocks and winced visibly. His hands stroked my hair and down my back, soothing me. Gabe had just beat me, but I sought out his comfort burrowing into his body heat. Gabe's hand squeezed the back of my neck with some force, waiting.

"Thank you for punishing me," I choked out his awaited gratitude, with disgust.

Gabe ignored the contempt from my tongue. "Good girl. You accepted your punishment very well little one. I'm proud of you."

I seethed behind the curtain of my tresses. Even though Gabe was conditioning me to the pleasure of pain, he knew that physical discipline was the most effective in breaking my resolve and deterring behaviour he deemed inappropriate. My bodily memory was unforgiving. He carried me inside and placed me chest down on the sofa, before returning with cream.

"You're going to be very sore Amelia. Some of those lashes broke skin. I'm sorry I had to punish you. You probably won't be able to walk without pain for a few days. Tell me why you deserved to be punished." His finger traced the raised welts.

I winced and released a cry of anguish as Gabe disinfected the wounds and applied the soothing balm on my burning flesh. I was still choking back sobs as Gabe rubbed my back before righting me to confront his eyes. "I deserved punishment Master because...I disobeyed your order of never opening the front door, and disappointed Master by breaking his trust by trying to escape."

"Good girl. I'll have to revoke some of the privileges and freedoms you've earned until I can trust you again." He lightly palmed the gauze dressing on my cheek.

My shoulders slumped in dejection before I nodded. It was punishment redux. Earn Gabe's trust, fight to escape, resist, be overpowered, give into resignation, fight again. I was in too much pain to protest. My life was slated for misery regardless. Repentance seemed to be a viable tactic. In that moment, as the pain overwhelmed my senses, I would have agreed to being locked back in my apartment if it meant never being belted again. The belt had lashed the fight out of me. Escape was a fleeting thought, reserved for another day.

Gabe nurtured me in the days following my punishment. His hands stroked me in soft caresses. He attentively changed my dressings. He carried me when the inflamed soles of my feet could not support my steps. I crawled everywhere else in the immediate aftermath. He knew the toll such punishments took on me and was wary of mentally injuring me given my newfound embrace of my submissive mindset. Gabe's constant rationalizations to me on the necessity of punishment carried an air of desperation, as if he was justifying it to himself and convincing it to me. I only nodded. I didn't object to the affection he provided. He wanted to make me feel safe and secure. I needed to feel protected and invulnerable. I couldn't risk disentangling myself from the mindset that Gabe had cultivated, especially given that I had no viable plan for escape.

Though gentle, Gabe consistently locked my arms behind my back and returned me to chastity for the weeks following. The rules, once loosened, were now reinstated with vigour. He again accompanied me to the bathroom, placing a claiming hand on my body as I attended to my needs, my gaze forced to endure his withering stare. He didn't permit me to wander the house, and he took Mittens away from me for a week. She and I were so delighted to be reunited that I bent down and nuzzled my cheek against her as my hands grasped futilely behind my neck. She snuggled into me, placing a reassuring paw on my thigh and meowed her delight. I didn't know how I could earn Gabe's trust again. I needed to.

One night, as he placed me on my knees before the window so I could glance into the darkness of night and feel the breeze kiss my face, I realized that it was only through compliance and strategic grovelling that I could gain any measure of freedom. It had worked the first time. I had been completely compliant since my belting, and nothing had changed. I needed to demonstrate a new level of contrition before Gabe would trust me again. It was reassurance Gabe sought, a tacit guarantee that I would not contravene his edicts again. That demonstration of compliance was crucial in re-establishing trust and becoming a willing pawn in this manufactured life.

"Master?" I whispered. I wasn't sure Gabe heard me.

"Yes, little one?"

"You're not going to let me go soon, are you?"

"No. You're mine. You haven't been properly trained yet."

It was laughable how Gabe employed the justification of my lack of training to validate my captivity. I shuffled around to face him. My arms still locked behind my back. I looked up at him. "Do you think...?" I wasn't even convinced I could muster the bravery to say it.

Gabe looked at me expectantly. He assumed I was going to negotiate.

"Master, do you think that every morning you would do something for little one to remind her she is yours?" The words were acid on my tongue.

Gabe looked at me with interest.

"Little one wants to be reminded of your ownership daily. It would help her remember her place so she can be a better submissive. Would Master insist little one tell Master that she is Master's to use and punish as Master sees fit every morning when she wakes up and every night when she goes to sleep? Sometimes little one forgets her place."

He smiled at me, appreciating my suggestion. "I'd be more than happy to help you. Shall we do it right now and then again before bed?"

"Yes please Master."

Gabe towered above me. I straightened my back, repentance conveyed in my eyes. His finger threaded through the ring of my collar and he pulled my neck up. "Whose are you little one?"

"Yours Master. Little one solely exists for Master's pleasure and happily serves him as he desires." I kept my eyes on Gabe, even though the tears made it difficult to see. I managed to choke back a sob before my shoulders rolled forward. "I'm sorry Master," I blubbered through my tears. "I'm sorry for disobeying you weeks ago. Please forgive me. I can't keep on feeling this terrible, thinking Master hates me and doesn't trust me."

My tears were genuine, though not due to contrition. I was devastated that the small gains I had earned were obliterated by my attempt to flee and that I would have to work that much harder to gain his trust again. My escape seemed so uselessly Sisyphean.

"I don't hate you, Amelia. Your submission is a journey. There are stops and starts that change the directionality. We had a small hiccup when you ran. Your actions were understandable. You were operating on instinct, not logic. I'm sure you've been sufficiently deterred from committing the same error. You are mine. I will always keep you, care for you, and nurture you."

"Thank you, Master." I shuffled to him so that my body was encapsulated by his legs. My head pressed against his inner thigh. He smoothed my hair. I nuzzled against his crotch, pulling the zipper down with my teeth. "Please allow me to demonstrate how much I wish to please you."

I didn't fellate him then. I simply buried my face into his crotch and with my tongue and lips nudged his cock out and held him in my mouth, keeping him warm until he no longer desired to feel the wetness of my tongue caress the underside of his shaft. I needed so desperately to prove my compliance that I didn't care I was volunteering to serve as his cock warmer for the evening. I remained in that position until my jaw locked, and my face and tongue grew numb. Gabe's appreciative murmurs buoyed my optimism that this would be enough to propel me into his good graces. Later that night he instructed me to keep my mouth open as he loomed over me, his hand stroking his cock. He ejaculated over my face, as my eyes remained fixed on his. Gabe was marking his dominance. "You don't need to tell me you're wet." I shamefully was.

That evening as the loofah abraded my skin and I washed my own betrayal off my body, I allowed the cascading water to mingle with my tears. There was so little I could do but continue to grovel before Gabe until he deemed me trained, my humiliation at the fore. But I was never trained to his satisfaction. I could never convincingly portray my emotional vulnerability as sufficiently broken, and acceptably compliant. I was accustomed to succumbing to my wanton sexuality. The wetness between my thighs was an undeniable admission of my physical need. My mental obedience was harder to feign.

Gabe found me crouched in the corner of the shower, unable to hold my body upright from the weight of the deceptions keeping me bound to this life. Gabe stepped into the shower, fully clothed, and wrapped his arms around me. "It's all right Amelia. Let it out. Let everything out. You're okay now." Gabe picked me up and towel dried me before he brought me to his bed. I watched as Gabe removed the sodden clothing from his body and slipped in next to me, embracing me tightly to his damp flesh.

"Why were you crying Amelia? Tell me."

I didn't want to be completely deceptive with Gabe, if for the veneer of truth would grant me grace of believability. But also, selfishly, I yearned for the camaraderie of a confidante. "I fear that it will never be enough Master." It wasn't technically a lie. Nor was it necessarily a truth. "I miss home. I want to get home. I want to prove to you how good I am so I can get home." My voice cracked as I swallowed down a sob.

"Be yourself Amelia. That's all I've ever asked of you, to be your authentic self. Feel what you legitimately feel. Don't hide your feelings from me. Don't pretend. Just be you. Stop lying to yourself. Stop trying to deny yourself what your heart wants. And you'll get home. What do you feel now?" Gabe placed his hand on my heart.

I had ascertained that Gabe wanted me to be true, even if authenticity came at the price of insincerity. He wanted me to love him, to yearn for him with earnestness. For weeks after I had surrendered again, I had feigned openness. Gabe awoke pleasure in me. He drummed feelings of warmth in my heart. But I also despised him. I detested that he had abrogated my agency for his own selfishness. I loathed his reading of my body and making it dance in pleasure as no man ever had. But every morning as I felt the air on my skin, and the scent of pine filled my nostrils, I could barely sublimate the tide of anger. Mentally surrendering to Gabe again, organically, believably, seemed an obstacle. I hoped the affirmations would achieve that. I needed to connect to Gabe emotionally, empathize with him, otherwise freedom would perpetually elude me.

"I so desperately want to be submissive to you Master. I'm having trouble getting there." None of those statements were lies, despite our motivations being divergent. "I know the affirmations will help. Do you think that maybe..." my voice trailed off.