“Here, eat up,” she says. “Mr. Thomas says you’re going to need your energy.”
She leaves, and I’m left to eat this oatmeal alone, feeling used, horny, and very unsatisfied.
Chapter 12
Brandon
I’ve been watching Chloe on the camera installed in my bedroom, and I can see that she’s pissed off. As a matter of fact, seething may be a better word to describe her at the moment.
What right does she have to be pissed off at me? Other than the whole being my slave situation, of course. I don’t know what she’s expecting. Am I supposed to act like all the shit in my office never happened? It happened, and there’s no going back on that. I don’t trust her at all. She was studying journalism, so I’m sure she’s good at telling people exactly what they want to hear. That doesn’t work for me. I judge people by their actions and not their words. If she wants my trust, she’s going to have to earn it. If she doesn’t want to earn it, the rest of her days may very well be prolonged and miserable.
Despite all of her faults, there is something about Chloe that I really like. She’s got fire and passion burning deep within her soul, and that intrigues me. Most of the women I’ve been involved in sexual relationships with have been total pushovers. While it allowed me to do with them as I wished, there was never really a challenge with any of them. Part of the fun is getting the woman to break and submit to me completely. This is not something that will be easy with Chloe.
She’s going to be a challenge, and I like that. I can tell that she’s going to be one hell of a tough nut to crack. I don’t want this to be an easy process. I like a woman who has a little bit of fight in her. Judging by the look of rage on her face now that I’ve left her in the room alone, I can see the fight in her ready to come out. This means my plan is coming to fruition.
Knowing that she’s going to be challenging to master, I jump on my computer to do a little shopping. I have plenty of tools at my disposal for physical play, but not a lot that will work mentally. If she’s going to be broken, it’s going to have to be a combination of mental and physical.
It takes some shopping around before I’m able to find someone who has exactly what I’m looking for and who can deliver it today, but I feel that I’ve found the perfect piece of equipment to break her down. It’s a full wall-length mirror. It’s unconventional, but I think it’s going to work. Chloe is going to be an obedient little pet, whether she likes it or not.
Once I arrange for rush delivery and installation of this piece of equipment, I go downstairs to have my team prepare the room. It’s a room that I’ve been using for storage, but I think it will make the perfect room for a sex dungeon of sorts. This room will also be where Chloe will stay from now on. It doesn’t feel right having her in my room.
It’s early evening by the time I’ve got everything set up exactly how I want it. Chloe has just finished eating her dinner, and as the day has worn on, she’s only gotten angrier and angrier. I go up to her room to see if her attitude matches what I can see in the video.
“Would you like to go to the restroom and take a shower?” I ask, peeking in the door.
“I guess if that’s something I’m allowed to do,” she replies with just as much angst as I expected.
“Don’t be silly, come with me.”
I lead her to the bathroom and wait for her to get into the shower. Locking the door from the outside, I go back downstairs to take one more quick look at the room I set up. The wall-length mirror I ordered fits perfectly, and I’m eager to use it. This is going to be a lot of fun.
Once she’s all clean, I take her back to the room.
“Go ahead and get comfortable. I’ll be back in a bit,” I tell her.
“Whatever you say,” she replies, complete with an eye roll.
She’s got some spunk, I’ll give her that, but she will be demoralized and defeated by the time the night’s over if I have anything to say about it.
I watch her for a bit longer in the camera to see if her mood improves, but she seems to be growing more and more agitated with each minute that ticks off the clock. After a half-hour, I decide it’s time to get things started and send Thomas, my head of security, up to get her and bring her down to me.
“Brandon needs to see you immediately,” he tells her after entering the room, not bothering to knock or announce that he’s coming in.
“What the fuck?” Chloe responds. “You can’t just barge in here like that. I’m in my bra and panties!”
She’s trying to cover up, but he has no patience for any of her nonsense. He walks over to her, grabs her by the arm, and begins dragging her out of the room and into the hallway.
I watch the live stream as she struggles to no avail. She isn’t giving up, though. She fights him all the way down the hall, down the stairs, and towards the room that I have set up for her.
“You need to calm down,” he tells her.
“Go fuck yourself! I don’t belong to you, and you can’t tell me what to do!”
“Seriously, you’re going to have a panic attack if you don’t chill out. Your breathing is already getting choppy. Here, take a deep breath.”
He produces an oxygen mask that he had hidden behind his back and puts it up to her face right as she inhales, but there’s no oxygen pumping through it. Instead, she inhales the sedative gas. My plan is coming together perfectly. Have a good nap, sweet girl.
Chapter 13
Chloe
Everything is blurry as I open my groggy eyes. I don’t know what in the hell happened. I went from walking down the stairs to sitting in a dark room.
Squeezing my eyes together, I attempt to bring things into focus, which is extremely difficult due to the fact that there is nothing more than a dim light in this room. Finally, I’m able to make out the figure of someone staring at me. It takes me another couple of moments to figure out that the someone is actually my reflection.
Looking at myself in the massive mirror before me, I barely recognize myself. It doesn’t even register at first that it’s me. The look of concentration on my face is troublesome. I know I’m looking at myself, but I’m so confused as to why.
My thoughts are hazy, but slowly things are starting to come into focus. My mouth is hanging open ever so slightly, the pink tip of my tongue barely showing. My mouth is dry, and I’m incredibly thirsty. My eyes are somewhat watery, as though I’ve been crying, but I don’t recall doing so.
I can’t see my hair, but I can feel that it’s pulled tightly to my scalp. It’s either in a very tight ponytail, but more likely a braid. Who would have braided my hair, I have no clue, but I can feel the pressure of how tightly it’s pulled.
My gaze moves lower down my body. I’m no longer wearing the bra I had on in the room. My breasts are exposed, and my nipples are hard. I can’t tell if it’s the fact that the room is cold or if this is somehow exciting me in ways I don’t even realize yet. That’s a demented though, and there’s no way that could possibly be true.
Looking down, I see that my legs have been parted and that I’m sitting on a hard wooden chair, but that’s as far as the light will illuminate. It’s almost as if the rest of my body fades away into the darkness.
As the moments pass, my clarity begins to improve. How long have I been in the room? There are no windows, so I have no way of knowing if I’ve been unconscious for a half-hour or half the day. It had to have been a while if someone was able to take the time to braid my hair. Does it really matter how long I’ve been here, though? Does time really mean all that much anymore?
Still feeling a bit drowsy, I close my eyes, but as soon as I do, I feel a hard yank of my hair, and a hand on the back of my neck wakes me up real quick. Although I can only see myself in my reflection, I’m definitely not alone.
“Don’t close your eyes,” Brandon says from the darkness behind me. “Look at yourself!”
I can barely make out his shadow behind me as my feelings of rage were returning. Who does he think he i
s? What kind of mind fuck does he think he’s going to pull on me? He’s already left me alone all day with nothing but my thoughts. I may belong to him, but I’m not going to play his stupid fucking games.
Unable to see him, I can feel him watching me. He’s watching me as I view myself. As much as I’m trying to fight it, I can’t make myself look away from my reflection. I can’t stop staring at my naked body being revealed to me.
Brandon releases the handful of my hair, but I’m still not free to move. I’m connected to this chair with some sort of binding. As I try to move around and wriggle myself free, they seem to become tighter. Becoming exceptionally self-conscious, I can’t look at myself any longer. I go to turn my head away, but I can’t. My head won’t move. It’s being held tightly in place. By what, I have no idea. All I know is that I’m trapped staring at an image of myself that I don’t even recognize, and I have no way to stop.
Although I’m incredibly uncomfortable in this situation, I can also feel my excitement beginning to intensify. I don’t know what in the fuck is wrong with me. Is this sexy? Should this be turning me on? Of course not, yet here I am sitting in this wooden chair, and I can feel my arousal start to leak out from between my legs.
Trying to find some type of comfort, I attempt to shift myself around in the seat. The hold on my head is still unwavering, making my attempts at moving to be fruitless. My arms are bound tightly, the rope having no mercy and holding onto me with it’s unforgiving grip. The pain of being stuck in place is intense but is also quickly beginning to pass. The numbness is starting to take its place. I don’t know how much of this I can take. I don’t have experience with any of this, and I know I’m already close to my limits. I also know that doesn’t mean anything to Brandon, and with him being in complete control of me, he is the only one with the power to release me.
I’m beginning to feel the early signs of a panic attack. My heart is beating rapidly and feels like it could come straight out of my chest. I’m beginning to sweat, and I can’t stop myself from trembling. I know I need to get a hold of myself, but I’m not sure if I can. I’ve always been claustrophobic and being restrained in this way might as well be my worst nightmare.
I focus on my breathing, trying to gain control over it. If I can breathe slowly, I can get my heart rate down. Not sure what can be done for the sweating and shaking, but I’m focused on one thing at a time. By slowing my breathing down, I’m hoping some of the pressure around my arms can be released as well, but something just isn’t sitting right with me.
There is literally nothing to see by myself. All I can see is my vulnerable, naked body. My chest moving with every breath and parts of this hard, uncomfortable chair. Other than that, there is darkness all around me. Another tremble moves through my body. I try to fight it off, but that only seems to make it worse. As I tremble, my nipples tighten, becoming so hard they could probably break glass. What’s even more confusing is the fact that the wetness between my legs has only gotten worse, and I can now feel it dripping back towards my ass.
My body is in a battle with itself. It doesn’t know whether to be consumed by panic or sexual feelings. I’ve always been a very smart girl, but I feel like everything I know has been thrown right out the window. My own logic is now working against me.
As I stare at myself in the mirror, the feeling of eroticism and panic begin to mesh together. My reflection shows my every reaction in the way of facial features, which are amplified by the fact that I’m not able to move. I can’t move, I can’t touch, I can’t do anything. Only look and focus on my breathing.
Suddenly, I notice that my sense of smell seems to be amplified. How did I not see this previously? The smells in the room are familiar yet not. The familiar has to be me. The room smells of passion and intense lust. It smells of sex without the actual sex taking place.
Pulling once again, my head is beginning to sting from all the pressure. The same feelings were taking over my arms and legs. It’s strange how the pain goes away and is replaced by numbness, only to be replaced by pain again with no warning. The human body really is magnificent in the scariest of ways.
I’m hoping that the pain will help relieve these confusing feelings of lust, but it does the opposite. The stinging sensation only amplifies my desire and want.
Straining in the chair, I begin growling with frustration. I feel like a wild animal that’s been captured by a zoo and put into a cage. It has natural instincts, but can’t do a thing about any of them. The longer I sit here, the more I can relate to one of these creatures. I’m ready to lunge at and tear apart anything that gets in my way. I’m going to make it a point to use my journalistic powers for good and write a piece encouraging caged animals to be set free. That is, if I ever make it out of this house alive and sane enough to do so.
A sound behind me gets my attention, causing me to stop struggling in the chair. It’s at this point that I realize that there are growling sounds coming from my mouth. And what is the sound that snapped me out of it? Brandon laughing. Brandon is laughing at me as I struggle with whatever position he’s put me in. Who does he think he is? What is so funny about any of this?
“What in the fuck are you laughing at?” I scream at the top of my lungs so loudly that I don’t even recognize my own voice.
If he wanted me in a rage, he has gotten exactly what he was seeking.
“Look at yourself,” he said once again. “Look at yourself and think about what it is that you see. Focus!”
I don’t know what it is about his words, but it triggers something inside of my head. I look deep into the eyes staring back at me, and I don’t see myself. I see an animal who was desperate to escape. I see desperation and the instinct to fight. I see pure emotion without any form of restraint. The humanity that I have inside of me was lost in all the rage and anger. At this moment, I realize that by feeling this way, I am simply an object. Upon recognizing this, a feeling of calm sweeps over me.
My breathing is coming back to normal. The arched eyebrows and anger in my face softens. My body collapses as much as it can with being so restrained. I allow the anger and animosity to leave my body. The desire and lust go as well, at least for the most part. Surprisingly, I look up at myself, and I smile.
In my reflection, I see myself. Not just my image, but who I really am. I’m naked and vulnerable. All the beautiful details and all the little imperfections that make me are on display. Seeing this is like seeing myself for the first time. It’s an awakening. The person I’ve always thought I was is gone. She was never real in the first place. This is my rebirth. I smile again at the realization. I’m new in all ways. My spirit and emotions are at peace and no longer at war with each other, and all it took was a long, hard look in the mirror.
Relief comes over me as I feel my head fall forward, released from whatever had been holding me to the chair. One by one, my arms are released, followed by my legs and ankles.
“Come with me,” he says and walks towards the back of the room.
I stand up and give myself one more long, hard look in the mirror. For the first time in as long as I can remember, I feel at peace.
“Do you understand your role yet,” Brandon asks as turns on a dim light.
“I think I do,” I tell him.
“I need you to apologize to me.”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“That’s not good enough. I need you to mean it. I need you to apologize to me and beg for my forgiveness. After that, I need you to beg for my cock if you want any sort of pleasure from me.”
“I really am sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused, sir. I’m accepting my role for what I’ve done. You’ve saved my life, and I thank you for that. Now please, sir. Let me have you. I want all of you.”
“If I allow you pleasures, do you promise to be a good girl?”
“I promise to be a very good girl, sir.”
Chapter 14
Chloe
“Do you understand what just happened?” he asks.
“I want to make sure you understand the significance.”
“I think so,” I reply, obviously still feeling very emotional.
“This is a new beginning for you. This is your chance to leave your old life and everything you thought you knew about yourself behind. This is your opportunity to embrace what your future holds. It’s time for you to surrender yourself completely and put your trust into me. Do you trust me?”
I nod my head.
“Are we back to this? I asked you a question, Chloe. Do you trust me?”
“Yes, sir,” I finally replied.
“Good. Let’s begin.”
The room is almost completely dark, only illuminated by the single light near the mirror. He pulls me into him and kisses me hard and deep. I kissed back with an intensity that even surprised me. My actions are eager, my tongue dancing against his.
“Get on the bed,” his deep voice orders.
Like an obedient lapdog, I do exactly as he says. He pulls a string overhead, turning on a single light bulb. It isn’t bright, but it’s enough that I can see the rest of the room.
There’s a cedar chest against the wall. Brandon licks his lips as he opens it. My eyes grow large when he pulls out a spreader bar. I’ve seen them on the internet but had never seen one in real life. It looks menacing.
“I’m going to have a lot of fun with this,” he tells me.
Without any warning, he grabs my ankles and locks the bar in place. I’m dying to know what his plans are for me right now, but I know better than to ask any questions. Who knows what he might do to me if I did.
With the spreader bar firmly in place, he goes back to the chest. What else can he possibly have in store for me? I watch in awe as he pulls out a thick rope. It’s one of those large ones that you typically see used for boating.
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