Liberated by the Pen Ch. 05

"Strip." Gabe sat atop a retaining wall, arms crossed over his chest in expectation of his demand. His countenance was calm, though the underlying twitch of his lips threatened to reveal the playfulness with which he approached this practicum in subjugation.

"But...Master...We're in the open."

His lips curled, almost simpering in appearance. "Precisely little one. Hasn't it always been your fantasy to be paraded around like the treasured slut you fantasize to be? What was it that you penned once? Wanting to be ravaged in public, filled with toys, made to do unspeakable things, while the threat of discovery impinged, all at my command?" The smugness was undeniable.

I surveyed the abandoned space. We were far recessed from the main pathway. No surveillance cameras were mounted above, and Gabe had selected a location that was obscured by large containers that afforded visual line-of-sight privacy. My eyes met his, imploring, apprehensive at what he requested of me, terrified and thrilled at once of the likelihood of discovery and the probability of danger. My inaction served as contestation to Gabe's command; my feet locating the surety of ground behind me. Gabe only exerted pressure on the slackened chain with his foot, inhibiting my further retreat. His eyes were hawkish as they bore into me. Nary a word was uttered again. He only waited patiently for my acquiescence to manifest, and my obedience to reveal itself to the one who owned it.

My shoulders hunched as I reluctantly permitted the fabric to glide off my torso, revealing my nakedness. The darkness of my panties a stark contrast plastered with dewy wetness against the alabaster of my flesh, and the lewdness of the toys that jaggedly peeked out from within my orifices. The ignominy of my situation exacerbated as I stood with the anal toy embedded and petalled within me, the chain dangling between the crevice of my buttocks and the excess trailing on the ground under Gabe's foot. His fingers only gestured for me to pass the coat to him.

"About the matter of your punishment." Gabe only dismissed my inquiring look with explanation. "You orgasmed repeatedly without permission from me. You know the rules little one. Now bend over, grab your ankles and present for punishment."

"No," my voice suddenly vocal in its resistance. Experiencing an orgasm while clothed in public was a different matter than exposing my genitals to any person in public purview. "No," I asserted with more determination. I walked towards Gabe reaching for my coat.

He only gathered the chain, quickly winding it around his fisted palm and pulled me closer until his hand grasped the links attached to the nipple clamps. I winced from the sudden forcefulness and agility of his seeming animosity, my knees buckling as Gabe exerted increasingly more strength until I was kneeling before him. He leaned down, bringing his face close to mine. Annoyance traced across his eyes as he stared intently down at me.

"This is not optional Amelia. You're mine. We're here of our own volition, as Master and submissive. Our time may be curtailed, but both of us know that no matter where I may be, what I may do to you, whether public or private, you inevitably return to me because you will always be mine. Mine to fuck. Mine to toy with. Mine to discipline. Now fucking bend over, grab your ankles, and ask to be punished. I may have agreed to the terms of your enslavement, but at the end of the day you're still enslaved, to me of your own free will."

A flicker of recognition flitted across my visage then, the significance of his words resonating and finding an understanding in me that pierced through the veneer of opposition I had erected. Gabe's declaration was cradled in truth. I had approached him with the terms that would release me from my mental keep, and yet I refused to abide by them. I may have negotiated my surrender under Gabe, but I realized only then the enormous amount of power he wielded over me. I slowly lifted myself to a standing position, turned around and bent down, grabbing my ankles. The awkwardness of the position was demeaning and rendered me vulnerable at once, presenting myself, exposing my genitals and the toys stuffed in them to his penetrating gaze.

"Please punish me for being disobedient Master," my voice choked out as my cheeks flamed from the request of serving my penance, an atonement that I reluctantly tolerated.

Gabe's hand was warm on my lower back, and I braced myself for the spanking I knew awaited. Yet, Gabe's hand never struck me with palm or implement. I only bent there, focused on remaining stationary, anticipating the strike of discipline to be meted out, as the light breeze wafted around my exposed flesh. With each passing moment, maintaining the position became progressively difficult as my muscles cramped in torment, and the fear of discovery quaked my limbs. My pathetically faint vocalizations and muted whimpers of displeasure failed to provoke Gabe into action. Instead of employing his hand, he wielded the power of the clitoral and G-spot toy and activated it, watching my body shoulder the burden of motionlessness as the momentum of pleasure threatened to launch me forwards from immobility.

I knew the intended effect that Gabe wished to impress upon me. He was reinforcing his will that my pleasure was provisional on his permission, and the extent of my misery conditional upon his magnanimity. He observed me from behind, my cunt pulsing in sequence with the toy's steady vibrations. Each shudder of my body transported me closer to the inevitable precipice and I could feel my pussy clenching around the toy as it squeezed every spasm of pleasure before pitting me over the cataract. My knees buckled and Gabe only tapped me back into the correct posture.

"Master, please let me climax." My voice strangled out, struggling in breath, holding back against the push of bliss and hunger as the oscillating vibrations claimed my need.

Gabe only stopped the toy, edging me to desire's periphery in this vulnerable state, waiting until the peak of pleasure had ebbed away in imposed retreat. He started the toy again, visually partaking as my body thrummed and throbbed with each peak that the toy compelled me to climb. Gabe suddenly thrust his hand in between my thighs, pushing the silicone phallus deeper within, pulsing it in me.

"You know what I find an effective punishment for a submissive when she disobeys?" His rhetorical question neither demanded a response, nor permitted one. "Mentally tethering her to her place of surrender. What better method to remind my submissive she is mine than to ensure her mind remains obedient in all matters, regardless of where she is."

I didn't understand what Gabe was intimating. I assumed that he had relinquished his need to physically discipline me in substitute for the more agonizing persistent edging and denial that I was subjected to while exposed to any passerby that might wander into the alley.

"Tell me why being humiliated like this excites you." His fingertips grazed beneath the lacy fabric of the panties, skirting the puffy nether lips, tracing the swell of their excitement. He pulled the panties down to my upper thighs, tapping my thighs until I widened my stance stretching the fabric taut.

His punishment was going to be multitudes worse as he expected me to enthusiastically recount my jubilation at being debased, and demanding I confront the darkness that twisted my waking thoughts and occupied my subconscious ones. I knew I was submissive. I understood the desires that enflamed my libido, but I detested having to vocalize them, especially positioned like this, defenseless, naked, filled, bent over. It was a stance of vulnerability requisitioned from an uncooperating mind. I shook my head and squeezed my eyes shut, refusing Gabe's request. I couldn't do this, nay, wouldn't do this here, like this. It was an expectation too profound demanded of me. Silence ushered in my refutation.

"Tell me. We will not leave here until you do." His hands twisted the locking plug, retracting the petals, before extracting the toy slowly, my sphincter holding tight from his deliberate protracted withdrawal. Gabe's fingers entered in the toy's stead, stroking the inner walls of my rectum.

I wanted to disavow my subjugation under Gabe's command, repudiate the validity of his assumptions, and renounce the claims that he asserted in knowledge. I started to straighten my posture. Gabe's hand only stilled my upwards movement, preventing me from lifting from the contemptible place of diminutiveness he reduced me to.

"No little one. Tell me."

His voice was unexpectedly gentle, encouraging even, as his hand caressed my skin, as if to embolden my voice. My breath sputtered as it tried to accommodate the burgeoning sense of dread that would release me from my hold.

"I..." I couldn't locate the words that would adequately convey my feelings of ruination. "I like it," I mumbled, degradation colouring my cheeks to a deep crimson, thankful that my head was obscured from Gabe's probing gaze.

Gabe only exhaled as if in relief. "You like being my naked fucktoy in public little one? You want to be paraded like my treasured property?" Gabe's fingers retreated, widening my anus for inspection, before I heard the zip of his pants, and felt the hardness of his glans prodding at me.

I had no words in retort. The image of being used so thoroughly in public, the thrill of being caught, the very fact that I was unclothed, vulnerable, objectified, and helpless, made me dripping wet and yearning for more debasement. The incessant thrum of the toy pushed me closer to the edge until Gabe interrupted it again, and thrust his cock fully into me, providing me no time to adjust to the enormous girth that stretched me painfully open. I screeched at the unanticipated intrusion and lifted trying to escape the burrowing pain, before Gabe pushed my back down again, gripping my hips and spearing me tightly and completely onto his cock. I whimpered, tears beading at my eyes, threatening to drip onto the interlocking brickwork below.

His manhood continually plunged into my rear canal, insistent and deep as I struggled to hold my stance in surrender.

"Tell me what you like about this little one. Specifically, in detail." His voice boomed in the stillness of the alleyway. His breaths ragged as he pumped into me, driving ever deeper.

Every nerve, every synapse, every muscle was attuned to the frenetic pace he set, and all he permitted was that I yield my body to his will and desire. My keens as he claimed me wafted away with the wind's currents, as I struggled to accommodate his girth that seemed especially generous in his exuberance. I shook my head unwilling to give voice to what Gabe assumed to be the truth. This wasn't me. I couldn't be the woman who was willingly asking to be the fucktoy of my abductor, but here I was, leashed, naked, collared, stuffed, and utterly prepared to surrender.

"Tell me," Gabe persisted. "More importantly, tell yourself," Gabe implored.

"I like feeling helpless Master," I squeaked out, shame tainting my words as Gabe ploughed into my need.

"And...?"

"...And being your fucktoy in public."

Gabe slammed into me then, unrelentingly driving into my anal canal as he claimed me with each animalistic thrust of his pelvis, in the open after my admission of desire.

"Tell me again," he instructed as his fingertips dug tightly into my hips.

"I like being your fucktoy in public Master. I want to be used by Master. I want to safely lose myself in the freedom of my submission. I enjoy being humiliated," I screamed out the instructional breathlessly as I felt the first climb towards pleasure. Gabe rewarded my honesty and re-engaged the toy, launching my body towards unrecognizable plateaus of desire. The first indications of climax spasmed through my body and I squeaked, "Master, please let me climax."

All I heard in response was his grunting as he rapidly plunged into me, hard and violent, until he granted me permission. We climaxed simultaneously, my knees finally buckling and collapsing as he sprayed his hot seed deep into my rectum, and collapsed over my back, pinning me to the ground below, forever beneath him. His chest heaved over mine, and for a moment in the afterglow of my orgasm, I forgot where we were as the warmth from his clothed body enveloped around my naked one, and I surrendered to the transcendent enormity of what had occurred.

"Always my fucktoy. You can't escape me, can you," Gabe's voice reverberated in my psyche, a portent of things to come, a remembrance of things past, menacing and reassuring of my intended place. Gabe had weaponized my own sensuality against my resolve.

We walked to the car in silence. He knew how confused I was at what had transpired, the muddled emotions of my longing, combatting the indignity of my desire, and the reality of my body's responses to Gabe's directives. I had admitted a profound yearning to be Gabe's fucktoy, a revelation declared in the openness where I could hide and deny no more. I held the anal plug in my hand, the other end of the chain connected to the O-ring in my collar, his sperm slowly leaking from my ass, sliding down the back of my thighs during my enduring walk of shame through crowds that had no indication that the petite woman trundling next to the green-eyed blond-haired man had just been fucked in the alley nearby, of her own volition, and need.

On the journey home, I obliged Gabe's command that the flesh of my body again be displayed. I remained naked, legs spread, subdued, and remarkably compliant as he directed me to finger my own cunt and ass as we hurtled towards a new stage in our relationship.

Though I didn't recognize that something fundamental had shifted within me that afternoon, Gabe did, as he enfolded me in protective comfort around my shoulders as I wept profusely, refusing to leave my presence despite my pleas for the comforting grace of isolation. What I hadn't known in the alleyway as I relinquished my soul to the demon of desire is that Gabe had somehow ensured we would be isolated, which he confessed to me afterwards.

"I would never willingly imperil my submissive or impugn her dignity. Your submission is safe with me," he assured me as his big hands pulled me into the expanse of his upper body.

"I don't know what's happening Master," I sobbed into Gabe's chest. My hands fidgeted as a petrifying cloak of iciness descended over me, my emotions spiralling.

"It's like before little one," Gabe explained as his hands comforted me with deliberate strokes down my back. "You're submissive. You've admitted it before. You've claimed your eyes have been opened, a whole new world entered. But your submission was never as freely given as it was this afternoon. You removed your clothing in the alley because you wanted to please me. You bent down and allowed me to claim you because that's your deepest fantasy. I didn't coerce you. I didn't force you. I only asked and you abided. I've tried to illustrate to you your power, the power you voluntarily relinquish for my keep. I dare hypothesize that you've finally truly seen your own emotional and psychological nakedness, and it can be frightening to navigate."

"But I did see it before," I sniffled in protest. "I did see it." I was the one who approached Gabe with my surrender. I knew I had willingly become his submissive without the menace of bondage, or drugs, or the trappings of treachery. My submission wasn't revelatory to me.

"Oh?" Gabe's finger only traced the path my tears carved as they glided down the swell of my cheek. "Did you really understand the implications of that surrender little one?"

I couldn't articulate what had happened in that alley, only that a deep abiding sense of peace had suffused through me the moment I had fully ceded to the fantasy, gave voice to the unmentionable darkness that lurked at the peripheries of my sanity, and conquered it via admission. It had been a disorienting experience confronting the sexual inversion that necessitated my acceptance of my carnal desires so openly. I had been terrified of the ugliness and vulnerability of such a naked admission. Yet, it had ushered in a momentary euphoria.

I had long reconciled my submissive nature: in the mansion when Gabe pressed me to kneel before the full-length mirror as I was naked, collared and cuffed, kept in chastity and made to fellate him as I admitted that I saw his submissive in surrender and sexual satiety; I saw it each morning when Gabe stood behind me, holding his collar, and I repeated the catechism that I was his, even if on some mornings I rebelled against the very thought; I saw it as I cried in the shadow of Gabe's dominance, becoming the willing vessel of his debauchery and relishing in the role; I had even seen it as I fucked my own ass with the ridged plug, my thighs parted, Gabe's brand burned into my inner thigh as I readily proclaimed that I was Master's, humiliating myself as the wet, willing embodiment of craven sexuality I was, no longer in complete opposition to his control; I had seen it after the one-bar prison and the reinforcing images that I was immersed in; I had even seen it when I purchased my own collar. I had no Master then, but I craved the control.

I had always seen myself. But reconciliation was not equivalent to comprehension. My acceptance was always contingent on a self-judgment that was harsher in tone than any external criticism levelled at me. My internal monologue constantly reminded me that 'good girls don't act like this'. Gabe's abduction provided me the rationalization I required to catapult myself into debasement without experiencing the accompanying suffocating sense of guilt. In that alleyway, where consent was fully mine to withdraw, I hadn't any thoughts of revocation. I had stripped down, naked, and raw and allowed Gabe, my Master, to possess me and claim me as he saw fit, as he determined the conditions of my surrender, and I consented to them.

It was intoxicating as I embraced the metamorphosis of momentary depravity. I had released the anxiety of darkness and wailed my acceptance of it as I climaxed, finding contentment and inner peace. Though exposed, I had felt the safest I had ever been. It was a terrifying realization. More petrifying than all the past instances combined. I was free, and I revelled in the chains of ownership, and while I had previously thought I had accepted my place in the world on my knees, this journey seemed more terrifying because I approached it with full knowledge.

I traced the definition on Gabe's chest, contemplating his words as I sniffled. I knew I could be emotionally safe with Gabe, to be rendered completely defenseless with him, knowing that he accepted the unspoken desires I still had not yet revealed to him. He would never ridicule or reject my sexual hunger in judgement. What we shared was a deep sense of intimacy despite our harrowing beginnings. We had journeyed to places of darkness and want. In that alleyway, I had surrendered to him in supplication out of my desire, but more to honour him, to please him, to serve him, and to endure for him, comforted in the knowledge that I was giving myself to another, and in that giving, I became whole. The confines of expectation liberated me from my own psychological imprisonment.

Paradoxically, I felt safe in the arms of the very man who had thieved from me my security. I snuggled into his hold, his clothing warming my naked flesh, as I confessed long into the night of desires I hadn't yet the courage to share with anybody, not even through my writing as an anonymous author: the fantasies of medical play I had been too scared to experiment with; the as-yet unvoiced ideas of being freely used by multiple men; of visiting a club and being paraded as Master's slut; of being tangled with rope so tightly in bondage and gagged while fucked by a merciless machine; of experimenting with more pain and electrical stimulation; of losing myself in the ecstasy of subspace and the jubilation of capitulation until the tears that released made me inconsolable; of being transformed into Master's fuckdoll, beautiful and compliant; of being fisted in my pussy during a sensual massage; of trying a bitchsuit and ballet boots and transformed into Master's pet.