Chapter Five: Her Submission Deepens
That night, as I stared at myself in the mirror, dwarfed by Gabe's figure before he claimed me of my own volition, I saw my servitude for the first time. It shattered me in a way that I acknowledged I couldn't heal from. I tried mentally through the next few days to reassemble the fractured bits of myself, but my efforts were wanting. Gabe had whittled away at my resolve so incrementally that I erroneously convinced myself I wasn't harmed. But I knew myself well enough to recognize the untold mental damage he had inflicted on my psyche. No matter how hard I fought it, regardless of how I attempted to manipulate my situation, I was still naked, collared, cuffed, and imprisoned, and utterly at Gabe's mercy.
Mittens proved my trusted companion in those days as my arms hugged my knees in a solitary dance. Gabe was never far. He didn't intrude or force his presence on me. His kindness didn't obfuscate the fact that he had kidnapped me. It simply made it easier to co-exist in my captivity. The dissolution of my resolve was attributable to Gabe's successful insinuation in my mind that as much as I manipulated him, he was still the gatekeeper. Gabe reinforced my submission every morning. He'd stand me in front of the bathroom's vanity, with his hand possessively curled around my collar, asking what I saw. I uttered the same thing. "I see your submissive Master."
A smile would transform his visage and he'd place a tender kiss on my lips followed by a warm embrace. We enacted this ritual every morning, except on those days when my eyes stared through me, rather than at me, and I didn't repeat the dogma quickly enough. Those mornings, as the coldness of the bathroom tile pierced through the soles of my feet, anchoring me down, I instead saw the domineering hold of my kidnapper's fingers smothering me, rather than the purveyor of my pleasure. I thought fleetingly of the independence of my past life, and the representation of the collar's enslavement in my new life.
I couldn't deny that Gabe enflamed inarticulable passion within me. He manipulated my body to sexual heights I hadn't before experienced, using toys I hadn't felt against my flesh prior, in a power dynamic I only previously fantasized about. He made me confront the truth of myself. But on those mornings, as the collar's oppression weighted me down into paralysis, sexual desires paled in importance to my autonomy. I desperately longed for the mundanities of the outside world, to hear the honking of cars, and the inane laughter that fuelled social interaction. My inability to MacGyver a weapon out of some string, paper, and a t-shirt to thwart the biometric security system was a constant albatross to my liberty. Since the onset of my abduction, I had realized that I would never overpower Gabe. With my height and strength, I could never force my way out through violence. My body could not tolerate any more punishment in retaliation. My escape would always be actuated by acquiescence and guile.
The more Gabe believed me to accept this manufactured life, the more likely he would be to grant me freedom, especially since he had promised me as much. I hadn't anticipated that I would resemble his prediction. I transformed into someone who wanted his control, who begged for his cock, who revelled in the wanton debasement, and craved it. I was unrecognizable. Lust had wreaked havoc on my sensibility and self-respect. Reality was easier when I gave into the fantasy. I didn't have to think about the tightness of the walls as they pressed against my hopes of liberty. I could easily believe that Gabe was my enigmatic, handsome, boyfriend who delivered pleasure to me. In the light of my submission, I hoped that in surrendering myself and sacrificing my principles, Gabe believed I had properly given up.
Gabe's emotional intelligence made him highly attuned to my sentiments. He knew that I was not immune to the warring factions of my mind and emotions. Since that night, I waivered on the tenacity of my submission, partly due to my own self-loathing at acquiescing so readily and capitulating to my own baser instincts, and partially to the uncertainty over whether my actions would even effect freedom. I couldn't hide the fracturing as well as I once could, despite my best attempts to mask and appeal to his ego. It took more of an emotional toll to surrender with grace and acknowledge with acceptance. Freedom, I constantly repeated the mantra, was attainable, even if on some days I stopped believing.
It was on those days that Gabe pushed me the hardest to concretize my place at his feet and remind me that I was always going to be his. He never brutalized me. He appealed psychologically by emphasizing the pleasure in being submissive, and the freedom to trust that he knew what my body desired, even if my mind was silent in its refusal. Inflicting sexual pleasure on me was always Gabe's ultimate weapon against my manipulations. He knew it was my kryptonite; it brought me to my knees every time.
"Who do you see?" Gabe stood behind me, scrutinizing the uncertainty reflected in my eyes.
"I see your submissive Master." My voice disembodied, hollowed, even to my own ears.
Gabe peered at me with kindness, correctly ascertaining that my mind needed to be served notice of my place. "On your hands and knees." His voice was uncharacteristically gruff.
I looked at him with uncertainty. He held my gaze until I assumed his commanded position.
"Tell me about your fantasy, the one you're most ashamed of. You shared it with me before, albeit reluctantly. You confessed that you climaxed harder than you ever had when you envisioned yourself in that situation."
"No Master. You know this already. Please don't make me repeat it to you. It's embarrassing."
"I won't repeat myself Amelia. You are to be bared to me, mind and body." His voice tinged with censure. His finger pulled my head up by my collar, craning my neck uncomfortably.
I choked back my pride and quietly whispered to Gabe the thoughts I hadn't dare repeat. Silence my only companion as I waited, hearing the shuffling of Gabe's feet, and the busyness of his hands. It was then I realized why he had positioned me so. The thickness of his finger pushed forcefully past my anus, sawing in and out of my sphincter as he attempted to combat the tight resistance. He pressed the lubed nozzle deep within, in his finger's stead, inserting the entirety of the deflated balloon bulb into me. My body struggled, frightened by what I knew was coming. Gabe's series of rapid swats to my buttocks stilled me. "Enough fidgeting Amelia. Be still."
I knew why Gabe chose this. It was meant to be a demonstration of how much I needed this, despite my humiliation and discomfort. He was right. I relished in the sensation as my neediness prompted me to push back against his probing fingers. He squeezed the bulbs, and I felt the inner balloon inflate and the outer balloon press against me, creating a feeling of fullness as it formed a tight seal. Gabe pulled, ensuring there would be no accidental release.
"What am I doing Amelia?" Gabe was annoyingly pedantic.
"You're giving me an enema Master." My voice was small as my cheeks flamed. The rush of warm, sudsy water entered me as he released the clamp. The uncomfortableness of the pressure and cramping kept me on all fours. Gabe's hands never left my body. By the time Gabe stopped the flow, I had taken in one litre. I let out soft mewls of discomfort as he massaged my belly, encouraging the liquid deep into my colon.
"Let's see how excited my little submissive is shall we?" Gabe's fingers drifted down to my slit, which he knew would be wet with arousal. "Soaking Amelia, as predicted." His thumb wandered to my clit. I pushed back against his hand as his thumb massaged the stimulated bud. It was an admittedly exhilarating sensation feeling Gabe's fingers pleasuring me, alongside the cramping pain and occasional pull of the bulb balloon. Nerves sparked as my clit triggered pleasure centres deeply from within. Gabe refused me privacy as he permitted me release. The relief was immediate. I was back on my hands and knees with the double balloon bulb inserted again, and another litre of warm water flowing into me. Gabe's pleasure evident on his face as he witnessed my body twist and squirm. He was a klismaphiliac after all. My submission, particularly embodied as I was splayed like this, with Gabe's fingers barely stroking my clitoris.
