Liberated by the Pen Ch. 04

He only squeezed my shoulder then, before his other hand unbuttoned my shirt and drifted to the elasticized hem of my panties. His finger inching downwards to teasingly rub my denuded pubis, a practise I retained long after Gabe's release. I didn't stop him from his wandering digits. I only nestled into his hold, repositioning my body, and spread my legs as he directed. My head tilted back in gratification as Adam's long fingers rubbed my G-spot as his thumb circled my clit. Sexual satisfaction seemed the perfect antidote to my unsettled troubles.

"Sometimes, operating in the now is all that's required," Adam whispered into my ear as the speed of his fingers elicited moans of contentment.

For now, it was all I needed, and all that I could focus on.

I pondered what Adam intimated in his discussion with me that evening, the need to re-evaluate my life, the necessity of casting toxicity aside. If I couldn't generate affection in the goodness that was Adam, how could I love anybody in the future?

I detested what Gabe had done, how he had successfully manipulated my emotions and longing with ease, and how he had ruined potential relationships. I understood now why time was irrelevant in reconnecting with me. He needn't darken my door with his dominance, physically. The trace of his influence had already embedded itself into my psyche, burrowing in. He was emphasizing precisely what Adam had illustrated, that I always retained the power. Gabe wanted me to return to him of my own volition. He was providing me space to exercise a conclusion independent of his physical coercion that I belonged to him and would always belong to him. But coercion veiled as choice was as cruel and oppressive as being bound; it was all deception.

If I wanted to regain my life, I would have to undertake the devil's proposition. I couldn't continue to kowtow in fear of what may come, and I couldn't continue a half-lived life with Gabe's presence occupying my waking and unconscious thoughts.

Many weeks after Gabe's note I visited his office, bypassing his assistant, ignoring her pleas that I hadn't an appointment to visit Mr. Magnussen. I wasn't acting impulsively, but rationally for once. Whether Gabe was in a meeting or not mattered little as I flung open his door, terrified that if I didn't approach him now, I would lose my nerve. I stood at the threshold, my petite form casting an elongated shadow over Gabe's startled form, fingering the collar in my purse, steeling my resolve. I closed the door behind me.

I only stood facing him, my back pressed to the door, our eyes meeting for long moments, his searching mine for traces of uncertainty. Mine searching his for a glimmer of his humanity. Our stalemate prolonged with each agonizing second as silence pervaded the chasm between us.

This wasn't treachery I reminded myself, it was survival. I needed to manufacture my own sense of place in this world, so that I could navigate my life without regret. My breaths were laboured as I tried to rationalize that even though he hadn't captured me physically, Gabe had won. I had been invariably drawn back into his game, and I willingly would become his submissive, electing to do so for my own sanity. No ropes, no handcuffs, no drugs were necessary this time. My surrender was fully voluntary.

But I wasn't playing his game as his pawn anymore. I was playing my game for me. My power. My choice. I refused to exist in this liminal space, trapped by indecision, conquered by uncertainty, allowing suspicion to overwhelm my waking thoughts. This would furnish me the resolution I required.

I only extended my hand, proffering the collar whose material lay heavy on my palm.

"I've chosen," I whispered softly in capitulation as Gabe lifted the collar from my palm, fingering its circumference.

"Little one. You've returned." Gabe smiled, somewhat mournfully, sadness creasing his eyes, as if always anticipating my return to him. He had been expecting me.