Journey (PONDPHUWIN)

Chapter 5: Submission

Phuwin sat on the edge of his bed, staring blankly at the wall in front of him. The events of the previous night played on a loop in his mind, each memory a sharp reminder of how far he had fallen. He felt trapped, suffocated by the reality of his situation. Pond's voice, calm and authoritative, echoed in his thoughts: "You're mine now. Don't forget that."

He knew that Pond's control over him was only beginning. The more he thought about it, the more he realized just how precarious his position was. Pond had all the power, and Phuwin had none. It was a harsh reality, one that left him feeling hollow and powerless.

Despite his exhaustion, Phuwin forced himself to get up and prepare for the day. His routine was a necessary distraction, a way to keep himself grounded when his world was spinning out of control. He dressed meticulously, choosing his clothes with care, ensuring that every detail was perfect. It was the one thing he could control, the one part of his life that still belonged to him.

As he walked through the bustling streets toward the university, Phuwin tried to push thoughts of Pond from his mind. He focused on the familiar sights and sounds of the city, the routine that had become his lifeline. But no matter how hard he tried, the dread lingered, a constant reminder of the man who now held his life in his hands.

At the university, Phuwin moved through the day like a ghost. He attended his classes, took notes, and interacted with his peers, but it all felt distant, as if he were watching someone else live his life. The smiles he offered were hollow, the words he spoke empty. He was playing a role, just as he had always done, but now the stakes were higher, and the consequences of failure more severe.

The day passed in a blur, each hour blending into the next until, finally, it was time to leave. Phuwin felt a knot of anxiety tighten in his chest as he checked his phone. No messages from Pond. The silence was almost worse than the demands, leaving Phuwin in a constant state of anticipation, wondering when the next call would come, when the next command would be issued.

That evening, as Phuwin sat in his apartment, the oppressive silence of his empty room was broken by the sudden buzz of his phone. He didn't have to look at the screen to know who it was. His heart raced as he picked up the phone and opened the message.

"Come over. Now."

The words were simple, but the command behind them was clear. Phuwin felt a wave of dread wash over him, but he knew he had no choice. Pond's control over him was absolute, and disobedience was not an option.

Phuwin grabbed his coat and headed out the door, the weight of the situation pressing down on him with every step. The walk to Pond's apartment felt longer than usual, each footfall heavy with the knowledge of what awaited him.

When he arrived at Pond's building, the doorman nodded at him, recognizing him from his previous visits. Phuwin managed a weak smile in return, trying to maintain the illusion of normalcy. But as he rode the elevator up to Pond's floor, the reality of his situation hit him with full force. This wasn't normal. This was control. This was submission.

Pond opened the door almost as soon as Phuwin knocked, a satisfied smirk on his face as he stepped aside to let him in. Phuwin walked into the familiar luxury of Pond's apartment, the opulence now feeling more like a prison than a sanctuary.

"Good," Pond said, closing the door behind them. "You're learning."

Phuwin said nothing, his eyes focused on the floor as he tried to brace himself for whatever was to come. Pond's presence was overwhelming, his authority absolute. Phuwin had been with many clients before, but none had made him feel as powerless as Pond did.

"Come here," Pond ordered, his voice leaving no room for hesitation.

Phuwin obeyed, crossing the room to stand in front of Pond. He could feel the tension in the air, the power dynamic that had been established between them. Pond was in control, and Phuwin was his to command.

Without warning, Pond reached out and grabbed Phuwin's chin, forcing him to look up and meet his gaze. Pond's eyes were cold, calculating, and filled with a mixture of desire and dominance.

"You belong to me now, Phuwin," Pond said, his voice a low growl. "You'll do whatever I say, whenever I say it. Do you understand?"

Phuwin nodded, the gesture small and resigned. He hated the way Pond made him feel—weak, vulnerable, and utterly powerless. But there was no way out, no escape from the grip that Pond had on his life.

"Good," Pond said, releasing his grip on Phuwin's chin. "Now, let's see how well you can obey."

The night unfolded in a series of commands and submissions, each one stripping away another layer of Phuwin's defenses. Pond pushed him further than he had ever been pushed before, testing his limits, breaking down the walls Phuwin had built to protect himself. There was no room for pride, no place for dignity. There was only obedience.

Phuwin endured it all in silence, his mind retreating to that familiar place where he could distance himself from what was happening. It was a coping mechanism, one he had perfected over years of dealing with clients who saw him as nothing more than an object for their pleasure. But with Pond, it was different. There was no escape, no detachment. Pond's control was too complete, his dominance too overwhelming.

By the time Pond was finished, Phuwin was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. He dressed quickly, eager to leave, but Pond wasn't done with him yet.

"Remember, Phuwin," Pond said as Phuwin reached the door. "This is only the beginning. You'll learn to enjoy this. You'll learn to crave it."

Phuwin didn't respond. He couldn't. The words stuck in his throat, choked by the fear and humiliation that had become his constant companions. He opened the door and stepped out into the cool night air, his body aching, his mind numb.

As he walked home, the city lights blurred around him, the noise of the streets fading into the background. Phuwin felt like he was walking through a dream—a nightmare from which there was no waking. The life he had known, the life he had fought so hard to build, was slipping away from him, replaced by a new reality where he was no longer in control.

And as he lay in bed that night, staring up at the ceiling, Phuwin realized that submission wasn't just an act. It was becoming a part of him, seeping into his soul, changing him in ways he couldn't yet understand. Pond had taken more than just his body—he had taken his sense of self, his pride, his very identity.

And Phuwin knew that no matter how hard he fought, no matter how much he tried to hold on to who he was, he was slowly being consumed by the darkness that Pond had brought into his life.

There was no escape. There was only submission. And in that submission, Phuwin was losing everything that had once made him who he was.