Enslaved by the Pen Ch. 07

Gabe gently turned me over, so we were facing each other in bed. He thumbed my jawline. "What is it you want little one?"

"I want you to be vulnerable with me Master. I'm constantly open to you. But you're never open to me. Please help me fall for you Master." I reached up tentatively to tug at Gabe's earlobe, before my fingers settled in the downiness of his hair and pulled him close to me. I peered into the depth of his eyes, imploring him. He cupped my face with both of his hands before he leaned in. The softness of his lips brushed against mine, and the firmness of his tongue pushed past into the warmth of my mouth. His arm wrapped around the smallness of my body, pulling me tight against his length as I allowed the passion of his kiss to overwhelm me.

"What would you like to know Amelia?"

"Everything Master, the silly childhood stories, the things you've not told your friends, secrets. I'm your submissive. We have a deeper relationship with one another than merely boyfriend and girlfriend. You told me some things when we were in my apartment. I'd like to know more."

Gabe's smile seemed warm as he gazed at me longingly. He stood up and retrieved a book. As he returned to the bed, he pulled me in between his spread legs, cocooning me amidst his limbs. On top of my lap, he had a leather-bound photo album. I smiled at Gabe, appreciative that he was willing to develop intimacy beyond sex. "Thank you, Master," I sniffled as the tears started.

Gabe gently kissed the wetness away. "Thank you little one for being vulnerable."

For the next few hours Gabe showed me photographs from his childhood, his old classmates, past vacation spots his family took. He regaled me with family anecdotes and tales of his misdeeds as a boy. I even saw photographs of his old girlfriends, all of whom looked nothing like me. He had a type, tall, statuesque, and very blonde.

"Master, I'm not like them."

"No little one, you're not." Gabe rubbed the length of my arm, squeezing. "You're more open, more beautiful, more giving. You're incomparable. You're mine. I don't deserve you little one."

The thought that he didn't, dare not cross my lips. I didn't want to disrupt the possibility that I had made a breakthrough with Gabe, that he was willing to reveal his vulnerability, expose himself to my needs. I knew that if Gabe permitted me into his world, he might develop a greater sense of trust in me. Truthfully, Gabe's words felt reassuring in a perverse way.

My finger traced lazy figures over Gabe's hip. "Why is the latex fantasy something you hide from me? You seemed cross when I asked you about it in your den a few weeks back."

"I wasn't cross Amelia." Gabe grabbed my hand and pulled it within the firm grasp of his. "I was embarrassed. I thought you would think less of me if you knew." Gabe looked wounded and I realized that I had identified something that Gabe had not yet confronted within himself.

"Not in the least Master. I'm glad I found out. Perhaps one day we can try it."

Gabe grinned, boyishly. "That's why you're more desirable than any of my exes combined little one. Your heart is pure. You have such compassion, even towards me. I hope that one day I can demonstrate the same compassion to you."

I hadn't realized it at the time, but in sharing his life with me, Gabe inadvertently provided me leverage into his vulnerability. He had revealed a part of himself that I might well use to negotiate my escape in the future. We talked long into the night. And for once, as I drifted to sleep in his arms, his hold no longer felt as suffocatingly possessive as it always had.

The following week, Gabe inadvertently capitalized on my vulnerability to inculcate a greater sense of trust in him. That wasn't his initial intention, but a convenient consequence. He was pushing my limits using a fantasy I volunteered to enact. It was an expression of my willingness to submit to him. Though it wasn't conceptualized to me as a punishment, it eventually felt like one, despite that he had strapped a vibrator to my thigh. Gabe inserted the stubby penis gag into my mouth. Before he placed the ear plugs into me, he slid a buzzer around my hand and instructed me that if I felt overwhelmed, I could buzz in lieu of my safe word. But he knew that I was a good girl, that I could endure this. I nodded. Gabe pulled the straps tight against the back of my head, encasing me into the confines of the leather isolation hood. The entire world plunged into a state of darkness. The added gag and ear buds rendered my world silent. I only knew I was breathing from the deep, ragged, breaths I took through the gag's nose holes.

The stillness was tolerable initially. I wanted to demonstrate to Gabe that I could be a good submissive, that I could earn my place back home. Gabe gently caressed my arm until my breathing calmed. He left me sitting on the sofa, the vibrator nestled against my clit. And then he lifted his presence from my flesh. I tried to sit patiently, allowing myself to feel the pleasure of the vibrator as the intensity of its whirring brought spasms to my body. But the darkness descended like a suffocating cloak over me. I internally recited why I needed to withstand this. I needed to be a good girl, to establish my willingness to abide by Gabe's directions, and that I wouldn't escape again. But the isolation hood unintentionally activated a sense of claustrophobia that had never been of concern before. The uncertainty prevented me from completely succumbing into pleasure. The tightness of the leather hood, its padded ears, eyes, and mouth, and its straps pulled tight against the back of my head in a smothering shroud of confinement. I was good. I was good. I was good. I kept on repeating the mantra.

Except I wasn't. I panicked. The totality of darkness and uncertainty consumed me. I screamed my safe word. The silicone phallus between my lips obscured sound. I hit the buzzer frantically. I couldn't tolerate it. I cried and clawed at the isolation hood as Gabe scurried to remove it. "Shh Amelia, it's okay. I'm here. I'll protect you." Gabe wiped my tears and repeated his words of comfort as he removed the ear plugs. Fear sucked the air out of my lungs as my mouth made unintelligible sounds. The panic of unresponsiveness overwhelmed me. Gabe wrapped his arms around my quivering form, telling me what a good girl I was. His hands and body were warm as he pressed me against him, a touchstone to ground me.

"Master, please don't ever leave me. Please..." I quaked amidst my tears. Gabe was safe. I clawed at his arms, desperately trying to push away the darkness that I could still taste. I understood what this exercise had achieved. Gabe held an omniscient presence in my life. He didn't realize that I would invoke my safe word. Or, he had engineered this specific scenario so that I would become more dependent on him, to never stray, to see him as my savior. I doubted the nefariousness of it since I had volunteered to try it. Regardless, Gabe imbued in me a sense of trust that he would respect me and my limits.

After a few weeks of ownership affirmations, Gabe seemed at ease. We had continued our late-night chats, fostering our relationship. Whether it was our heartfelt conversations or the consequence of cultivating trust after panicking in the isolation hood, I felt warmth towards him that I hadn't felt in many weeks. In turn, Gabe no longer locked my arms behind my back, and I was again allowed to roam the house. Gabe informed me that he turned off the security cameras to my bedroom overnight. I didn't pull at the bars lest Gabe was legitimately testing me. My flight towards hope and home would wait. I didn't dare court danger and elected to voluntarily remain nearby. I'd read near him, kneel near his feet, rest with my head on his lap. I even willingly clipped my leash to my collar and placed it near Gabe's hand. I never wandered from his vision. It was a display of proximity that I thought would build trust. Continued freedoms, no matter how modest, were worth it. I had grovelled too much, at a cost too high, for too long, to have everything vanished from my grasp.

One day, Gabe disappeared. It was a test, especially since I observed the front door ajar. I made a production of turning my back and walking away. Where Gabe was, was irrelevant. The cameras recorded my rejection because Gabe snuggled up to me later when I was in the kitchen, snacking.

"You didn't leave little one."

"No Master. I've learned not to disobey you. Master doesn't want little one going past the door without Master and only with his permission. I thought it best to stay inside." I hated how my compliance so smoothly slid from my tongue without thought. The months of captivity had transformed me, and I effortlessly switched between third and first person. The intentionality behind the act, now instinctual, habituated.

"Good girl. Come." He pulled me by my wrist to his bedroom, the little bell on my locking plug jingling as my feet were light on the floor. I saw the opened balcony door. On it, was a dining service. "A treat for being such a good girl these past few weeks. I'm so proud of you little one. I see the effort you're putting into our relationship. Now go have a bubble bath that I've drawn up for you, and after you're done, you're to return to my bedroom for dinner. I've laid out what I'd like for you to wear on your bed."

"I get clothes?" My eyes widened in shocked elation. "Clothes?"

Gabe only playfully spanked me before I departed to see what I would get to wear. I shouldn't have been too ecstatic since what Gabe provided was a set of crotchless panties and an open cup bra. I might as well not have been wearing anything at all. But I was grateful given that it was the most fabric I had been permitted to don since being collared. I sank into the hot water, luxuriating in the bubbles as the foam encapsulated me. As I closed my eyes and allowed my chin to bob above the water's level, Gabe came in and sat on the edge of the tub. He dipped his hand in, fluttering it back and forth in the water, before bringing it up to caress the underside of my breasts. The delicateness of his touch pulled a sigh from my lips.

"I like watching you, Amelia." His finger was unexpectedly hypnotic as it circled my nipple, tracing the edges of the areola repeatedly until I lulled my head back against the tub's ledge, relishing in the sensation. Gabe reached under the water with his other hand and slipped his finger into my pussy, languidly rubbing against the thin membrane of skin to feel the plug still locked in me. "Would you allow me to do something Amelia?" I opened my eyes. Gabe held up a razor. "I know we've kept your pubic hair trimmed into a little patch, but I'd love my girl to be completely bare for me. It would look alluring in the crotchless panties."

"It would please Master?"

Gabe smiled widely as he brought one leg over his shoulder to expose me entirely to his touch. He lathered my mound up with soap and traced the contours with the razor denuding me entirely of hair. The trace of his palm on my newly sensitive skin brought shivers to my warm form. I was surprised he hadn't requested this earlier in my captivity.

"Touch yourself Amelia. Feel how sensitive you are."

My hand drifted to my pussy, and I caressed the top of my mound feeling how the smoothness encouraged an intensity of sensation. Gabe cupped my hand. "Eyes on me as you fuck yourself Amelia. I want to see my girl work towards her climax."

I gulped. I hated when Gabe's dominance bore into me. I was unable to lower my eyes to mask the shame and bashfulness I invariably felt as he watched my fingers tease into my moistness for his edification. My actions at his whim. My movements at his examination. My finger dipped into my pussy, slowly circling inside before my thumb glanced across my clit. My legs widened and I saw Gabe's nod of approval as my hips pulsed against my now frantic ministrations. My legs fluttered open as I built towards climax. My hips lurched upwards, pulsing. As my back arched, Gabe's hand kneaded the flesh of my breasts. I panted as my pussy squeezed down on the three fingers that Gabe had inserted and was pumping into me. I met each of his thrusts with my own, as my mouth opened in a silent gasp. I could feel the contractions of my abdomen push me towards the edge of desire, as my body stuttered. The coolness on my newly denuded mound tingled under the trace of my fingers. Gabe pulled his hand away before removing mine as well. I groaned in frustration as Gabe had permitted me to bring myself to the edge only to stop.

"Again," Gabe commanded.

My eyes only looked at him, my whimpering did little to persuade him otherwise. My hand returned to my pussy to begin the dance of denial anew, another five edges until Gabe was content with how desperate my body was for release. My legs splayed over his shoulders widely. My cunt glistening and beaded with the slickness of stimulation. My chest and neck mottled with flushed arousal. My cheeks glowing with wanton need. Gabe pulled me out of the bath and dried me, deliberately avoiding touching the molten core between my legs, but purposely pulling at the edges of my labial lips. "Go ahead and put on the lingerie little one."

I deliberately took my time donning the delicate, ruby lace. They covered little, and exposed everything, but it was a luxury to feel softness on my skin. Gabe joined me in the bedroom, walking me to the full-length mirror. He held up a pair of nipple clamps whose jagged edges made them resemble miniature crowns. He rolled my nipple in between his fingers before separating the magnetic bar, positioning my nipple in between before slowly joining the magnets. I immediately felt an intense pinch and stimulation, as Gabe explained that they were magnetic nipple clamps. The magnets would continually home themselves, keeping my nipples stiff. Next, he guided me down onto my back, pushing my legs wide, and slid a beaded clamp over my clit capturing the hood in its tightness, with the rods sitting between the smaller labia. Gabe shook the beads on the clamp, before reaching down and jingling the bell on my anal plug. The flat of his palm gave my nether lips a quick and light swat. He pulled me up and positioned me before the mirror, my legs wide opened, my cheeks flushed.

I raised my head to look at my own reflection. The sallow, deadened look that greeted me every morning as Gabe placed his claiming hand on my collar, was instead met with a sparkle of need in my eyes. Fresh air and natural light had revitalised me. My cheeks were rosy, warm with life. What surprised me is how alluring the accoutrements of my submission appeared. Whereas I once saw the collar as imprisoning me, together with the cuffs, lingerie and nipple and clitoral clamps, the accessories looked like they belonged on me.

"What do you see little one?"

"I see your submissive Master." The mantra was default by now, performed every morning, said without thought. The words were automatic out of my mouth.

Gabe positioned himself behind me, his legs on either side of mine. "Who do you see little one?"

I saw the flush of my cheeks as the magnets of the nipple clamps squeezed and accentuated my breasts. I saw the wetness of my nether lips as the clamp formed a perfect frame to the plumpness of flesh. I felt the throbbing of my clit. I felt the air on my shaven skin and saw the prickling of my skin in response. Gabe held my arms to my sides.

"I see me Master, how I'm meant to be. Submissive, denied, wanting, yearning." I really saw myself for the first time, not my servitude to Gabe, but myself, the reality of who I was, what I wanted. I liked that I looked like that. I liked how submissive I felt. It felt natural.

Gabe's hand was gentle as he brushed the tear from my eye. "You see it too now don't you little one? I know you've claimed you've seen it before, but those were words without intent. I've recognized it since the beginning. But you also believe it now. Your eyes reflect your belief."

I nodded, holding his hand to my face, revelling in the claiming warmth. "Master?" I met Gabe's eyes in the mirror's reflection. "Please fuck me." I wanted to remember this feeling of understanding who I was. I knew in asking Gabe to claim me, that he interpreted the request as my acquiescence, a complete and total surrender to his will. But to me, I was claiming myself for myself, seeing myself as I was, how I was meant to be. I was asserting my identity, absent of Gabe's coercion. It seemed an insignificant distinction, but to me, it was meaningful.

Gabe lifted my chin up and kissed me. "I suppose dinner can wait." Gabe rolled me onto my back and connected the cuffs to the headboard and Gabe spread my legs as he licked a protracted line down my body, preparing me for an evening of denial, of spread limbs, of comingled undulations, of stimulation and bodily desires, and hungry mouths, and welcomed pain and release. "I shall enjoy this little one, immensely."

After that evening, the gruffness of Gabe's commands that occasionally infiltrated his tone in the past gave way to a quiet acceptance. He trusted me to submit because I truly realized that at my heart, I was submissive. I had finally acknowledged it fully and wholly. He didn't need to force my hand, to bribe, to cajole, to insist. He didn't need to wrench it from me, or so he believed.

The acknowledgement of my own submission meant that I wanted to explore it deeper on my terms. Gabe continued to interpret my compliance as indicative of my embrace of him as Master. I wasn't submitting to him so much as I was teasing the boundaries of my own understanding of self and using him as the vehicle. I had discovered myself at my kidnapper's behest. I was suddenly ravenous for a life that I had experienced under Gabe's hand, but hadn't appreciated under my own. The many utterances I had professed months back suddenly rang with clarity. I had always been submissive under Gabe, not with Gabe. The difference wasn't semantic; the distinction was revelatory. Until I could find a way to escape, I would capitalize on exploring it.

I was compliant on my own and he rewarded me. As the weather was still warm enough, Gabe allowed me outside time on the porch. I could sit and read and spend as much time as I wanted. The only stipulation was that Gabe had to grant me permission. I willingly sought it. The kiss of wind on my skin, the smell of flora as the season changed, was worth the sexual favours I would sometimes ply in trade. My mouth sought out his manhood as I kneeled between his legs willingly fucking myself with a large dildo as I swallowed his enormity down my throat, and the equally large phallus into my willing folds. Gabe was so pleased with my performance that I was permitted an entire afternoon outside absent of his surveilling gaze. Voluntarily begging Gabe to remove the locking butt plug in me so that I could sink my asshole onto his cock and ride him until he climaxed in me, while imploring him to plug me back up while his semen remained, earned me an al fresco dinner, and a spanking under the stars.

I marvelled at the kaleidoscope of colours my bruises formed the following day, as they skirted over my skin. Gabe's hand had found dominion over my flesh, luring the flush to the surface as his gloved hand smacked me harder than his bared one. The feel of the leather on my skin was novel. I remembered how I had beseeched Gabe to hit me harder. I could withstand more. Thankfully, Gabe exercised more judgement than I and stopped before removing the plug and fucking me in the ass at my urging. I remembered the excitement in Gabe's cock, how it had bobbed and weaved, and how he had felt fuller and harder than I had ever experienced.