Break Me (Enslaved #2)

16 DAX

I hate keeping my sub in her cell all day long. Submission is a very psychological thing, and staying isolated twenty-two hours a day wears on the mind. So I start bringing her to my office when I’m alone there, doing leather work or working on some new gadget to suit a customer’s special needs.

It also means I don’t have to keep her hands confined in the same position all day, and it’s good training, keeping her in a submissive space and teaching her quiet patience and graciousness.

I let her kneel on a pillow beside my desk, close enough that I can pet her, a chain connecting the collar to the floor keeping her from moving away.

Kneeling comes naturally to her, and she quickly seems to grow comfortable with the position I teach her: straight spine, hands flat on her thighs, and head slightly lowered. The first few times I make her sit like that, she grows restless within half an hour, twitching as she struggles to keep the position. But that’s to be expected. What I don’t expect is how quickly the restlessness fades. Within a few days, she can sit there for an hour without getting overly restless, and within a couple of weeks, I have her sitting at my side for several hours with only a few breaks.

“Such a good girl,” I say, turning to her and stroking her cheek. “Such progress.” I wrap my hand around her chin and bring her attention to me as I lean down and say softly, “You may kiss my boots.”

A furrow between her brows reveals her confusion. My sub has come a long way, but she still has a lot to learn. She has found peace in her submission and learned obedience, but I want to take her deeper—let her find gratitude and devotion as well.

Despite her confusion, she doesn’t protest or ask questions. She obediently leans forward, steadying herself with her palms to the floor as she presses a brief kiss on my right boot.

“Do it again.” I press my hand to her nape, keeping her close to the black leather. “This is a privilege, my sweet sub. No one has been allowed to touch my boots for almost a decade. But you get to do it because your submission is real.”

This time, as she moves to kiss the leather, I can feel her deepening submission, and I inflate the collar the moment her lips connect with my boots. Her sweet moan makes me suppress a groan as my cock strains against my pants. I want to pull her up, shove her over the table, and take her ass. But even though I have her wearing a butt plug at least an hour a day, she’s not quite ready. I’m not risking tearing anything down there when it’s the only hole I can use to give her pleasure.

But she does have one more opening that will grant me pleasure.

I unzip my jeans and let my cock spring free. “Sit up,” I say, enjoying the sight of her widening eyes as her attention catches on my massive length. “Suck it.”

Worry tightens her features as she tentatively wraps her fingers around my shaft and leans forward.

Pressing a finger under her chin, I urge her attention to my face. “You have sucked a cock before, right?”

She gives a careful nod.

“And…” I probe.

She presses her lips together for a moment before saying, “I’m not very good at it.”

“Says who?”

“My boyf—” She shakes her head as she realizes what she’s saying. Whoever her boyfriend was before no longer lays claim to that title. “A guy I was seeing.”

Gripping her jaw, I force her attention to remain on me. “I don’t care what he said. Let me be the judge of your mouth. If I don’t like it, I promise to teach you how to make me like it.”

Relief flushes some of the tension from her features as she nods. My cock grows even harder, seeing how concerned she is with pleasing me.

She’s tentative at first as she takes the tip into her mouth, sucks on it, and takes it a bit deeper a few times. But as I stroke her head and she hears my pleased groans, she grows bolder, moving her tongue across my length, sucking on it, and taking it to the back of her throat.

“That boyfriend of yours is an asshole,” I say as I lean my head back. “You give the best head I’ve had in a long time.” And it’s true. Her technique might not be the best, and she’s a bit awkward at times, but her eagerness to please makes all the difference. I don’t even want to control the blow job like I usually do. So I grab the collar pump in one hand and rest my other on her head as I close my eyes. “Keep going. Just like that.”

She gives the sweetest little yelp that vibrates around my cock as I inflate the collar. The tightening sensation has her growing even more eager, sucking harder even as her mouth becomes deliciously soft. So I press again. And again. Until she’s panting through her nose and opening her mouth around my cock to draw in air. But she never lets the trouble of breathing get in the way of pleasing me. Looking down a few times, I notice how her eyes become glazed and unfocused as she sinks into subspace. Even as her brain turns to mush, she keeps going, focusing on pleasuring me.

“I’m gonna come in your mouth in just a second, and I want you to swallow every last drop. Are we clear?”

“Mm,” she mewls as she nods her head.

“Good girl.” I pump the collar one more time, knowing it will make her desperate for free airflow. I relish the little gasp that billows around my cock and the feeling of her bated breaths as she struggles to continue. It adds to the sensation even though her movements grow more staggered, and the sight of her helplessness sends me straight over the edge.

Groaning, I curl my fingers around her hair, holding her head still as I shoot my cum into her sweet little mouth.

She grabs onto my legs, her fingers clawing at my jeans as she struggles to both swallow and drag in enough air.

“That’s it.” I loosen my grip on her hair. “You may sit up straight again.”

She’s about to lift her hand and wipe away a trickle of cum that runs down her chin, but I slap her hand away.

“Uh-uh, hands stay on your thighs,” I reprimand. She knows this. She did slip when she clutched my legs, but I’m not sure she even noticed, and I’m gonna let that one slide because I enjoyed it so much.

Her eyes flit up and down as she fights the urge to wipe herself clean, giving me this cute pleading look as if she’s hoping I will do it for her. But I enjoy seeing my cum on her face.

“Can you still taste me on your tongue?” I ask, smiling at her eager nod. “Can you taste that I own your mouth too?”

“Mm,” she mewls, looking all dazed yet very much at peace as she stares up at me. As I watch those round, vulnerable eyes and her sticky mouth, a vision pops into my mind. Something that has my cock hardening anew.

“Stay like that,” I tell her as I push aside the leather work I was working on to start a new project—something that will bring her even deeper into her submission and keep her locked in strict compliance. It’s not that I need to force her into compliance, but restricting her physically affects her mind—and my cock.

I work on this new project whenever I have a little time to spare for the next few days. Wanting my sub at my side as I do so, I keep her in my office as much as I can, and once, I even let her stay while I have a girl on my table. The girl is just here for some waxing, so I figure it’s not something that will rattle my sub too much, and I want to get her used to seeing me work on the other girls, so I can have her at my side most of the time.

But the ordeal doesn’t go over as effortlessly as I’d hoped. The girl keeps screaming—she’s one of the new ones, who still hasn’t learned how useless it is—and every time she does, I notice in my peripheral vision how my sub jerks. When I turn my head to glance at her, her eyes are wide, her jaw clenched tight.

Grabbing the girl on my table by the chin, I lean into her face and say in a quiet but menacing voice, “If you scare my sub with one more scream, I’ll staple your mouth shut.”

The threat doesn’t work. She keeps screaming, unable to control herself, so I grab a medical stapler from a drawer, shove her jaw shut, and place the stapler over her lips.

“No!” my sub blurts just as I’m about to press.

With a growl, I turn my attention in her direction. “Who gave you permission to speak?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just...”

“Just what?” I snap.

“Please don’t do that to her.”

“Sit still and keep quiet or I’ll have one of the guards take you back to your cell.”

I almost expect her to say she’d like that, and I’m a little annoyed that I suggested it because I rather like having her here. What I don’t expect is what she says instead.

“Can I at least…” She tentatively points at the girl. “Can I comfort her?” Her eyes fall to the floor as she bites her lips together.

“You want to comfort her?” I ask with surprise.

She nods, keeping her eyes lowered, clearly knowing how strange it sounds.

“Go ahead,” I say. “But I’m stapling her mouth shut either way.”

My little sub nods her understanding, gingerly rises to her feet, and scurries over to stand on the other side of the exam table.

As if it’s the most natural thing in the world, she presses her hand to the girl’s head and starts stroking. Tears pool in the girl’s terror-filled eyes. I guess she has been here long enough to be starved for comfort.

With a shake of my head, I go back to the task at hand and staple her mouth shut. It’s blissfully quiet as I continue waxing her pussy. But it’s not because of the staples. Those can only muffle screams. It’s because of the little sub stroking her hair.

I keep glancing up at her as I work, taken aback by the vision. And a bit impressed, to be honest. I would have never thought of this myself, but maybe it’s not such a bad idea. I might not be interested in comforting the girls on my table—except when it’s my sub—but it does make them more compliant and easier to work with. Which is a good thing these days as the screams keep grating on my nerves instead of hardening my cock the way they used to.

It’s a good thing my new leather project is ready soon. I won’t have my little sub disturbing me while I work.