Liberated by the Pen Ch. 03

"Good girl," I crowed. "You may climax little one."

Unable to deny her desire any longer, her knees gave out as she collapsed, and she contracted on the ground as she crested. Her anal orgasm engulfed her, and her body bucked and flopped as she stifled her grunts and wails fighting the tsunami of sensual delight until the sensations dragged her to the undertow of pleasure. Hearing her struggling whimpers was admittedly arousing. She lay on her side, her body jerking as the throes of her climax contorted her form into an eventual fetal position. I immediately soothed her still twitching body as I wiped the tears from her eyes.

"Master is so proud of his little one. So delightfully pleased," as I collected her and held her upright in my arms, rocking her until her choked sobbing ceased, wiping the dirt from her cheeks and forehead. "I'm going to take us home now alright little one?"

She nodded, sniffling her assent as she only closed her eyes and permitted me to wipe away the dirt and debris littering her body. It was my intention for Amelia to be cognizant of my possession, and for her to comprehend why we were here, and the purpose of her presence. A physical claim on her body by force with my own manhood was unnecessary to reiterate my ownership of her. Ravaging her with my cock or coercing her into action was a gratuitous exercise in redundancy into what I already knew of her obedience. I merely had to dominate her mind by my presence.

I lifted the collar of her dress and tenderly pulled her garment down, straightening the fabric before rebuttoning up her trench coat and assisting her to a standing position. She was still shifting on her feet, squeezing her thighs together as the toys continued their infernal journey restraining her pleasure at the threshold of culmination. I allowed my remaining dried semen to grace her face. The appearance of my seed mingling with her saliva, coating her mouth, overwhelming her olfaction with the scent of my ownership, and her mental capitulation to my inevitable control, was worth commemorating. The cock gag was repositioned against her tongue, and I pushed the lengthy trespasser back into her mouth, buckling it securely. She only gurgled in objection, resistance to her own selective subjugation now dampened.

"Are you okay little one?" I touched her cheek with a gentle softness of affection before placing a kiss on her forehead and rearranging her mask back up.

Wide and wild bewildered eyes met mine, but she nodded nonetheless and pressed into my lips, as if seeking my reassuring touch. Optimistically, I hoped her actions were born out of affection, but realistically surmised perhaps more reflective of uncertainty and desperation. She was breathing heavily, and she leaned against me as we returned to the car, her legs weakened from the thrumming of dulled, incessant desire; her body exhausted from multiple orgasms. My hand firm around her waist. She no longer struggled; her body utterly compliant as I fastened the seat belt and we drove home. There were no protestations when the blackout glasses returned over her eyes. She simply abided with grace and tolerance.

She stumbled back into her abode, her legs unstable, my arm supporting her from the weight of the morning's activities. I stripped her of the trench coat and positioned her on her knees, still clothed, still blinded, still gagged, still shackled, still filled, by the window's warmth.

"How many orgasms shall I permit you to enjoy little one?" I knew she was still wet with desperation, not yet sated from our excursion. The constant rubbing of her thighs attested to that.

As I reached down, the vaginal toy left her clenching channel with a suctioning pull. She grunted against the gag, nonsensically as if bereft of its absence. When the tip of my shoe nudged against her lustful, gaping wetness, she only settled lower, widening her stance. She pitched her vulva against the tip of leather, her arousal dripping down, adding its own luster to the existing shine of the patent material. I ripped the glasses off, wanting to see the animalistic hunger reflected in her eyes. She propped her torso against my leg, humping my shoe with abandon, grinding desperately to achieve the apex of release that suddenly determined her very being, if not irrationally, certainly frantically.

Perhaps, her actions were in homage to our earlier interaction at the bistro when her chastity device prevented her full surrender to me. It was as if she was unconsciously conceding to the true intent of that rendezvous and tacitly accepting her place at my feet. Her body quaked with finality before I halted the remaining anal toy vibrating within her flesh. She collapsed by my feet on her side. Her eyes fluttered close from exhaustion, and her lips parted before the fatigue of fantasy overwhelmed her being.

Amelia remained on the sofa, protectively curled into herself where I placed her, her limbs now unfettered, her flesh granted reprieve from ceaseless mechanical bliss, vacated of all toys but the now-motionless anal beads. It was a restless slumber I imagined as her body tremored in unconsciousness and her mouth conversed with an unseen partner. The next component of our discussion was going to be difficult. I didn't want to awaken her prematurely. Instead, I readied what I would need to confront her with. Amelia stretched out, unfurling from the protective posture of her dreams. I sat near her legs, rubbing her calves. She flinched and pulled away before pushing her back against the arm of the couch, seeking refuge, wrapping her legs with her arms. My hands only chased the warmth of her flesh and settled on her knees.

"We find ourselves back here again little one, as if a coda to our connection." I leaned back against the arm of the sofa, crossing my legs, stretching my arm lengthwise against the furniture's back. "As I mentioned, we have matters to discuss. Now that you've been subdued, you'll be more receptive to what I must tell you."

Amelia's eyes only flashed with rage, as if angry at the tactics I had been forced to enact for her own beneficial understanding.

"We have nothing to discuss Gabe. Release me. I'm not your toy. I'm not your possession. I'm not playing your game. You forced me to act wantonly back there at the conservation area." The adamancy of her denial was convincing only to herself. Her implacability was admirable if not misguided. If only she could penetrate and dispel the layers of her refusal.

"What is it you liked about captivity Amelia. We both recognize we were each manipulating the other. It would be disingenuous for either of us to deny that we continue to have chemistry and that we share an intimacy that far surpasses any connection you have with Adam. You may have been feigning some of your responses initially, but I implicitly recognize that there was and continues to be an intrinsic authenticity to your surrender under my hand. I witnessed it earlier today. You thrive under my dominance."

Amelia twiddled her fingers, shaking her head. "There's nothing I like about you," she whispered unconvincingly. "Nothing."

"That's not true. Don't lie to protect yourself Amelia."

She struggled with the accusation nay admission that I hurled at her. I needn't assert the statement with any more declarative strength. We both knew it resonated at a level deeply submerged. After all, she was sitting compliantly before me, without objection, as an anal toy uncomfortably invaded the deepest recesses of her body. She wept softly, reconciling the certainty of my words and the mistaken strenuousness of her rebuttals. She swiped her wet cheeks with the back of her hand in tantrum before she straightened her back and found her voice.

"I may have inadvertently fallen in love with you Gabe, but I detest you for what you've done to me. I may thrill at your hand, but sexual responses can be conditioned, and you precisely enacted that in conditioning my sexual impulses. You imprisoned me for months. You can't deny that our proximity played into my desire for you. My desire to be dominated isn't yours alone to claim. My needs can be sated by others. Yet, you refuse to loosen the impossibly restrictive hold you claim over me, trapping me here again. That's not love, despite your claims. That's obsession. What purpose does it serve other than to confirm what a despicable monster you are."

I pulled her across the expanse of the couch into my embrace, but she fought against me, her limbs flailing against my restrictive keep, her tiny fists battering my chest. I only tightened my embrace until she stopped contesting her place. As I relaxed, she managed to extricate herself by sliding under my forearms, pulling herself away.

"You've forfeited your right to touch me Gabe, especially after what you've done to me," she screeched at me. "You parade around as if some conquering hero who's done me a public service for my sexuality. All you did was kidnap someone until she fucked you the way you fantasized about all these years as a young adult. I'm surprised you didn't wrap me in latex so you could enact your ultimate desire and use me as some fuckdoll."

I sidled closer to Amelia's side of the sofa, placing my palms on either side of the cushion, effectively trapping her. My face was centimetres from hers. Her breaths were short and hitched in response to my closer proximity. "I never once took what wasn't mine without your approval. You begged me to fuck you Amelia," I hissed at her in negation. "You pleaded with me to debase you. How many times did you approach me in rapprochement to curry favour? How many instances did you petition me to use a bigger, longer, harder toy, for it to be inserted with more vigour. 'Fuck me harder Master.'"

My lips skirted the side of her mouth before I pressed forwards and sought passage with my tongue. I shifted her body, sliding it downwards until she was on her back, and the weight of my body was over top her. The fabric of her dress inched upwards, revealing the smooth alabaster of her skin. My hand palmed the swell of her breast before skimming down her side to rest between her thighs. I could see the rapid inhalations of her chest.

"You implored me every morning to fuck you in the ass after you took that enema little one. You think you can conceal your true longings behind your virtue and claim innocence when I witnessed how much you enjoyed the thrill of being filled and fucked. Your moans, your squirms, your calls for salvation as I insisted you look at me while the water coursed through you, before I drove deep into you and claimed you. I could cue up the videos and force you to watch yourself, dripping with desire as the tube snaked into your ass. But I don't need to do that do I?" I tucked her hair behind her ear, my thumb tracing her jawline. "Those memories rattle in your fantasies indefinitely. Your need to be humiliated and debased is an instrumental part of your sexual identity. Isn't it Amelia?"

My fingers inched towards the slipperiness that I knew would be waiting, teasingly tracing her puffy labia before I reached down and gently tugged the anal toy still in her ass, a teasing pressure. Her eyes closed and she moaned from the sensations she experienced in her rectum. The look of ecstasy crossed her visage. It was a look that I hadn't ever observed her convey to Adam, a look of such intense pleasure and supplication and liberation all integrated in one. Beseeching in one glance, entreating in another.

"You thrived on the humiliation little one. I observed it when we played online when I'd command you to fuck yourself for my pleasure. How your hand would so willingly insert the hairbrush into your ass and the dildo into your cunt without any persuasion. Was I conditioning your responses then, or were you merely employing me as a proxy for your own base desires?"

The rose of her cheeks intensified as she reminisced about the instances she surrendered to my instructions on camera, willingly, zealously. A reminder wasn't required for how she spread her legs and shoved her own panties into her cunt, lubricating them with her juices as she fingered herself, before pulling them out to cram them into her mouth. No video was required for Amelia to remember the instances where she would display herself, on her hands and knees to me, her ass to the camera, legs widely spread, filled with the satisfying feeling of fullness from the double ended dildo in her cunt and ass. She revelled in inserting Ben Wa balls into her pussy and performing her Kegel exercises at work absent of her co-workers' knowledge at my insistence.

"You adored every minute little one." My eyes penetrated deeply into hers, reiterating my knowledge of her every fantasy.

Her eyes darted, averting my gaze, before her head tipped back on the sofa's shoulder as my fingers slipped into the tightness of her vagina, thrusting upwards until the base of my palm slapped against her vulva as I increased the pace with which my hand pleasured her.

"You adored experiencing the joy of humiliation little one. I observed it when I surveilled you. I witnessed it when you'd thrust your ass upwards for me every morning without my prompting, your legs parting for the degradation that you knew would grant you sexual absolution. I saw it again today as you allowed desire to dictate your actions while you brought yourself to orgasm riding my shoe, entirely unprompted."

I inserted another finger into her grasping wetness watching as she slipped into a trance dictated by the rhythm of her own pelvic movements and the coordinated strikes of my own hand as it slapped against her flesh.

"I played out the fantasies exactly as you penned them, Amelia. Being abducted gave you the mental rationalization you required to forgive yourself for your own deeply submerged, unmentionable fantasies. It was easier for you to accept debasement when you felt it was forced upon you rather than of your own volition." My voice was soft as I reasoned with her, though my hand and fingers were insistent as they drove into her, ceaselessly frantic in their force, reminding her exactly how she revelled in being an object for me to manipulate.

My other hand skimmed upwards, under her dress, tantalizingly running up to the underswell of her breasts. I pushed the fabric upwards, baring her naked body to my gaze. She was beautiful, always mesmerizing under my dominion, especially when she trembled so. My thumb flicked her nipple examining the erect bud react to my touch. Logic eluded her as she succumbed to my manipulations. She wriggled under my grasp, parting her legs until her knee bent and her foot came to rest off the sofa and onto the floor, welcoming more of my hand into her core. The lewd spread of her sex to my gaze served as a welcome invitation. I leaned down to suckle the bud that plumped under my ministrations. My tongue laved the erected nub of flesh as my hand continued its probe into the silky depths of her womanhood.

The wetness of my tongue jolted her from her sexual stupor.

"NO!" she screamed with vehemence. "You haven't earned the privilege. You're nothing to me Gabe, nothing."

She fought her imprisonment, her limbs striking me without deliberation, just desperation. Defiance suddenly substituting the lust that once was writ so evidently on her face. She attempted to escape from beneath me, but I only captured her wrists tightly above her prone form. Her body was stretched taut under mine, my fingers still buried deeply between her spread legs.

"You think fingering me and getting me wet excuses what you did to me? You fucking abducted me, kept me walled in some underground cavern, made me confront my sexual identity before I was ready to admit it, and then you released me without any regard for my emotional wellbeing. You abandoned me Gabe. What kind of Master does that? You fucking abandoned me to fend for myself. Did you even once check in on me to see how I was suffering, how you ruined me, how you hurt me? You claim to love me, but I've not seen a trace of that love, just malice and maliciousness, and meanness. You abandoned me after you used me! How am I supposed to live the rest of my life knowing nobody believes what happened to me?"

She sobbed uncontrollably then, a deep wrenching guttural howling that wracked her body in heaves and crushing gasps. I released her wrists and withdrew from between her legs. She turned to her side, attempting to veil her vulnerability. I wanted to confess how I had surveilled her after I released her, how I had held her during the overnights to quell her nightmares and left before she could awaken to the knowledge of my presence. I desired to illustrate to her how distraught my own heart had been at her absence, drinking myself to stumbling drunkenness multiple nights, viewing videos as my only remembrance of our connection. Yet I knew she wouldn't accept my actions as acts of loving benevolence. She would conclude my purchase of her apartment building as a disproportionate tentacle of control. She would interpret my continuing surveillance of her activities on the computer and in her apartment as indicative of obsession rather than selfless passion.

"I love you little one. I've always loved you, whether you realize it or not. I was devastated when we were apart, pining for your touch and your heart every day. I've been a guiding force in your life even after your release, invisibly so. Not just at the bistro, or the museum, or even in the elevator, but beyond that. Admitting it may be too difficult for you, but even earlier today your obedience substantiated yet again how formidable my ownership over you is, and how unalterably entrenched our connection remains, despite the time and distance apart."

She pulled herself up to a sitting position then, yanking her dress down angrily in haste, exhibiting an abrupt sense of modesty. Amelia only shook her head, before standing and then pacing across the room, as if unwilling to admit the sincerity of everything that I had asserted in its truthfulness. I only leaned back against the sofa, crossing my legs, allowing her sudden burst of itinerancy to subside. She leaned against the windowsill. The breeze wafted in from the opened window, lifting strands of her hair.

"Do you understand why I took you out this morning little one?"

She turned around to face me. "To prove you own me. To assert your power. To establish that I belong to you." There was such vitriol fuelling her response as she spit it out.

I shook my head in exaggerated dismissal. "No little one. That wasn't an exercise in my power. It was an exercise in yours."

Her brow furrowed in confusion, and then consternation at my assertion.

"I need not confine you to an underground apartment Amelia. I can control you quite well without kidnapping you. You're mine. You've always been mine. There's a certain freedom to knowing that you're my willing slut in public. I didn't physically restrain you to me. You weren't shackled to me. At any time, you could have run from me. Yet, you remained. My inane conversation with the young couple was a deliberate calculation to gauge your reactions. Rather than alert passersby to your plight, you deliberately chose not to take a step towards freedom.

I removed your gag for a sustained period, and not a single utterance or plea to be released was shouted; there were no screams for assistance. You remained on your knees lapping at the penis gag I held before you and fucking your own ass. Your ready compliance to my whims was admirable as was your request for permission to climax - all initiated by your own mind. You climaxed when I permitted you to. You thrust yourself against my leg in pursuit of additional pleasure without my bidding. Admit it to yourself Amelia, you never want to flee from me. If there was any seriousness underscoring your intentionality, you would have already evaded me. You always desire to be under my control like the good girl you know you are. Your mind wouldn't permit you to escape from me even if you convinced yourself to do so, and I know that there is no such desire within you."