I Own You Pt. 01

It started at my final year at the police academy. I was having a good time as a student enjoying life in the big city but was still single and missing a regular female companion.

One of my drill instructors pulled me aside after a class on 'Crowd control.' We were used by regular police whenever they saw more than one person making a little noise in the street. He pulled me into a meeting room where five people already were seated looking at what appeared to be my records.

"We have a proposal for you Mr. Adams," one of the older guys started.

"OK, but who are you?" I asked, causing everybody to look at each other nervously.

"Never mind, we are an ad hoc group fighting against organized crime. We are formed by the State Department and have unlimited access to use resources from police. Right now, we have a large operation running against the biker group <i>The Organization</i>. And we need your help".

That's how I got involved. They asked a lot of questions about my knowledge of the group, if I knew anyone there, if I had dealt with the group and on and on and on.

Bottom line was that the group was based in a building were the front was a Motorcycle Dealer and Repair shop. They urgently needed a mechanic since they had lost two in a shootout with a rival group. Because I had my Harley Davidson, they figured I could get by as a mechanic and help observe the group from inside.

So, while I spent the next couple of weeks training in a shop in another city, the team was doing the application that would get me an interview and eventually the job. As they had planned, I got the job with some fake references and a couple of other applicants who suddenly lost interest.

My days in the shop were both good and bad. There was a lot of work to be done and I had to study at night with the help from motorcycle importers and two specialists who had no idea why they were doing this. But the shop slowly started to trust me as a mechanic. There was not much criminal activity though while we were working at the place. I had been given small cameras with batteries and enough memory to last a few weeks. But they had to be concealed carefully or the whole operation would be blown. I managed to conceal some inside the wall structures and some in machines. The bad guys came often by the shop to watch bikes or just to stretch their legs. Every morning I could see signs of them having used the shop during the evening but at day they mostly kept themselves inside the next rooms where I was not invited.

Their girls were something else. There were changed frequently but all selected by the same format. Big tits and ass, long hair, pretty face and around 25 years old. Some were nice and said hello or small talked, but to some the mechanics were servants. I know the investigation team had a big job just keeping up with the girls names and partners.

And then suddenly one morning it was all over. As I got to the shop there was police cars everywhere and the investigation team leader explained that another undercover cop inside the biker group had been killed so they would go with what we had and see if it could get enough people in jail for various criminal activities including several murders, serious drug and people trafficking and racketeering. I was done and felt like a big disappointment even though I had been a small wheel in a successful operation. The success of the operation more than my own part landed me a decent position in my local precinct and the team leader promised to call if they needed another motorcycle expert.

After a few weeks I was back near the shop on other police business and went in to see the place again. Everything had been removed down to oil stains on the floor. I did however locate one of the little cameras which I peeled out of the wall with a pen and a flashlight. I slid it into the glovebox and forgot all about it.

Six months later we were changing cars and one of the carpool people came with leftovers including at least twenty ice cream wrappers, ten paper bags from the donut shop, and my little camera.

I took it home and again forgot about it for a few days but over the weekend, I finally got around to inserting the memory card into my computer. It was motion activated so there were hours of me and the other guys at the shop repairing bikes plus lots of people going through the shop. I fast forwarded until there suddenly was a guy tied up in a kneeling position in the center of the picture with a group of people around him. I changed to play mode and heard an angry voice interrogating him over some missing drugs in several deliveries. I recognized him as a biker but later was told he was Jack Hiscoll and working as an undercover cop like me. The guy was initially quiet but a severe beating with the help of the whole group changed his mind and eventually he started admitting to thinning the coke at first a little and eventually fifty percent. The cut he had sold to a competing group in the other end of town. The beating got worse and worse. The interrogator pushed three women towards the guy again and again. After some time, the group of people watching had moved out of the picture and it was only possible to see one or two people at a time beating or kicking the person. At the end Jack Hiscoll tried to save his life by yelling he was an undercover police officer. But the beating got worse and eventually he was quiet.

I was shocked. My first instinct was to call the team leader and transfer the video but then I realized that the Hero Cop we had buried would turn to Dirty Cop and it would reflect badly upon all of us. Probably all the people on the recording had received the penalty. Then this would only punish the cop's family. So, I started to make an album of all the people involved in the killing of the cop. There were two bikers of which one was clearly the leader and pushing the rest to hurt the guy. I knew his name but not the other. Then there were three biker bitches who, reluctantly in the beginning, but actively at the end participated. I had to find out more from the files.

It took me days to identify the group via the police files and press clippings. Luckily, I still had my access codes to the case so over time I could search a little. The bikers were in jail. The leader guy was Mean Mike, alias Michael LaCroffe who served 15 years for all kinds of verdicts but no murder. He was rumored to control the group today even from his jail cell. The other guy was convicted of the murder and several others so he would never get out.

The girls all were all sentenced with fines and one had a sentence served for holding illegal firearms. All were free today. It got me thinking a lot, and I started working on a plan.

Two weeks later, I was following the first of the three girls. Her name was Jennifer Jones. She had no formal education other than high school. She had not listed any previous jobs but had recently moved to Brooklyn and gotten a part time job in a fashion shop. No kids, but spent a lot of time taking care of her sisters two small toddlers. She had managed to get away from the police who had her just listed as a girlfriend. She was tall, fake blond with very nice tits which apparently was a must-have in biker girls. I had followed her on a few occasions and had seen no signs of biker contact or boyfriends, but one never knew.

I decided it was time for our first meeting and knocked on the door to her flat. In case of more people in the flat I had planned for her just to call me.

She opened the door with her arms full of groceries.

"Hello, my name is Nick Adams. I am with the police department. I have a few questions regarding your recent involvement with <i>The Organization</i>. May I come in please?"

She looked at me and my badge in shock and horror and I could see her mind struggling to find good reasons to make me go away.

"It won't take long. Just a few questions on relations in the group." I explained as I almost pushed her back into the apartment.

"Please be quick. I have left all that behind me. I have nothing further to say." She protested.

"Ok," I said. "I am just interested in your relationship with the late undercover police agent Jack Hiscoll."

"I hardly saw him there. He was a nobody in the group. I didn't even talk to him." She explained in a high pitch tone.

"Ok", I said as I pulled out my tablet computer.

"Then it is not you in this picture?" I said as I showed her some of the movie where her part was mixed together. Firstly, she kicked Jack in his ass but as the movie went on, she got more and more violent and eventually kicked him in his groin and face with her high heels.

She stood with open mouth and gasped for air while staring in disbelief at my screen.

"This looks to me like torture and murder which will get you a room and board for the rest of your life in a zero-star hotel. You are pretty enough that some of the groups will use you to eat pussy every night and none of the guards will lift a finger to save you because you killed a police officer!"

She dropped everything she had on the floor and grabbed the back of a chair to stop her from falling.

"But he was dirty. He admitted to skimming powder for himself and must have made a fortune. He was no better than the bikers." She was now crying and had to sit down not to faint.

"I am sorry, that part must be missing from my tape. You will not get away with throwing dirt at Jack. This will get you several life sentences if I decide to release this."

At my last sentence she looked up at me with curiosity painted on her face.

"Are you not part of the investigation? Were you not the new mechanic in the shop?" she asked.

"Well, yes but these tapes have recently come to my possession and I can do with them as I wish."

There was silence for a long time. Somebody passed by on the stairway outside her front door and then again silence.

"I don't have any money -- I, I, I can get some -- what, what do you want?" she suddenly babbled out."

I looked at her for a while until she finally looked up.

"I want to own you. You will do as I say. Whenever I say and whatever I tell you to do. If you do not do this, I will mail this part of the video to the press and police and there will be a big pressure until you are locked up with all your new girlfriends."

She looked at me in disbelief.

"What do you want me to do. I will do anything -- please!"

"Two more things actually. Firstly, this video with explanations is hidden on the internet in several time logged computer files that require me to prolong them on a regular basis. Also, there are copies at several solicitors and bank vaults to be opened in case of my death or disappearance. There is a special version made showing the activity of Mean Mike. As you know, he only went down with smaller issues and not murder. If I let him know these are in my possession and he cannot threaten me to give them to him he would be happy to help me with minor issues such as tracking you down and sending me your fingers in small envelopes or having one of you sisters kids disappear."

At the last sentence she jumped up with terror in her eyes.

"You would not dare!! Leave them out of this. They have done nothing!!"

"Just as Jack Hiscoll's three kids who are now left in a mess." I replied.

"But it is all up to you. If I am hurt, killed or disappear you and your family will be in big trouble. If I get tired of you, you will go to jail, probably for the rest of your life. If you disappear or die -- your sister's kids will pay the price."

Her mouth went up and down as if to say something, but no sound was made.

"Is this totally clear? I own you." I repeated.

"What do you want me to do?" she repeated back in a tiny voice.

"I will use you as I please. I will be by once or twice a month after giving notice and I'll have a good fuck, a good time. One of my hobbies is photography and I will use you as a model whenever I want to. And whatever else I want to do with you. You will never say no. You will always be nice, clean and ready for whatever I want. Basically, I own you. Outside of this you will go on with your life. Deal?"

She nodded after some time simply staring at me.

"I cannot hear you." I said.

"Yes, I will do as you want."

We looked at each other for a long time.

"Good, I said. I will be by tomorrow at the same time. But for now, you will give me a blowjob to confirm the arrangement. Understood?"

Again, her face went white with disbelief painted all over it.

"But, but.." she started.

"Now" I said I a raised voice and held out my hand.

She got up but could not get her legs to move forward.

I loved what I looked at. My personal slave standing there in all her beauty. Not a chance in a million that I would ever land such a beauty as a girlfriend but now I owned one.

"Get on your knees and get started." I demanded.

Finally, she moved forward and knelt. I let her struggle with the belt and zipper while I enjoyed the sight. Tears were now rolling down her cheeks, but it did not make me feel much pity. I just had to think of those last moments of Jacks life to stop that.

She finally pulled my dick out from its wrapping and started licking the side like I was an ice cream. I had been thinking about this moment for a long time so I knew I would not last long. But it was like her slow blowjob was teasing me. I pushed my dick into her mouth and held it there for a long time. She struggled at first but then found she could still breathe and relaxed.

I slowly picked up a pace and enjoyed the treatment. I took out my phone and shot a few pictures of this beauty working on my pole.

"Look up." I ordered, and she did as was told.

I had dreamt of this and it took only a few minutes until my pressure valve released and what felt like pints of fluid went down the bitch's throat. She struggled again but I had a good grip and did not let her off my dick. I even held her there for an extra minute just to enjoy the power game.

When I finally pulled out, she was about to say something in protest, but I just shoved it back in and demanded she clean it properly.

She looked at me with angry eyes then resigned and started to suck my dick clean.

After a couple of minutes of this I pulled back and pushed my dick back in my trousers. The red lipstick was clearly visible a couple of inches from the shaft. Not bad for an amateur.

"Now, you know a little of what you are about to get. Probably not worse that you were getting as a biker chick. If you are accepting the terms, then send me an email telling me what time I should arrive tomorrow. Wear something nice. And our meetings will always start with some sort of quickie like this and then later better sex. I hate to spoil a dinner because of a boner. Understood?" I took a business card out of my breast pocket and left it on the table.

"Yes". she said and looked away still crying.

"See you tomorrow!" I said as I departed.

Thee mail thing was for her to make mental acceptance of the situation. I knew she would make it as late as possible to make the encounter as brief as possible, so was not surprised when an email arrived just saying

"20.30."

No sender and no kind regards!

I arrived with a bottle of wine and my little bag at 20.30 as agreed.

Jennifer was wearing a red dress that was so low cut it almost shoved her navel. Black midsized heel shoes and black stockings. Her hair was pulled back which suited her well. She had donned more makeup that the day before, but it was still possible to see she had been crying.

She opened the door with a nod and led me in. Her flat was a mess with too many things on every available surface. Old high school trophies, tourist garbage and pictures of her family. Especially her sister's kids.

"Are you all right?" I asked to start the conversation.

She looked at me a little surprised. I could see she formed the word 'Fine' but stopped herself and looked up at me.

"No, I can't do this," she said with a sigh, "I have not been able to sleep all night and could hardly cope with work."

"Oh, you can, and you will. You have been able to live with the guilt of killing a person. Now, you can feel less guilty as you are being punished and doing a kind of sentence."

"I can get hold of twenty-five thousand dollars. Can that make you go away?" she looked at me with pleading eyes.

"Nothing can make me go away, and there is nowhere you and your family can escape to where Mean Mike cannot find you. So, stop trying to find solutions and start accepting the situation." I said sternly.

"As I said, I will start with a quick fuck so start by turning around so I can see my precious possession" I said and made a stirring movement with my finger.

She looked shocked again but slowly began to turn around. She had a fabulous body with large breast and buttocks and a slim waist. Legs were long and well-shaped, and muscles everywhere showed a person taking good care of her physique.

"Come here." I said and moved to a full-size mirror in the hallway. "Start by sucking my dick." I said, stupidly pointed with a finger.

She swallowed and removed a couple of tears but eventually got down on her knees. She slowly opened my pants and pulled out my already stiff boner. She was good at this. She started by circling around the head then down to my clean-shaven balls and back up before swallowing almost the full length, picking up a good rhythm.

I had a wonderful look down the cleavage and from the side in the mirror. She did a good job and I could sense pressure building up.

"Stop." I said and handed her a condom from my pocket. Put this on.

"But..." she started to protest.

"Just do it." I replied.

When she had fumbled for some time and it was finally in place, I pulled her up and placed her in front of me facing the mirror. I placed her hands on either side and lifted her dress up.

She was protesting something, but I had no time for small talk, so I pulled her panties and pantyhose down to her knees and inserted a finger in her vagina.

Now she really protested and tried to stop me with one of her hands, but I gripped it and held her in a police hold while I lowered myself and inserted my dick.

She was moving around but my grip was impossible for her to break so I could slowly enter my dick into her vagina while looking at her face showing torment in the mirror.

"Think of what you did to Jack and enjoy my treatment!" I managed to whisper in her ears and the cream on the condom helped to get a smooth rhythm going. It was a tight-fitting pussy and a lovely view so I kept a slow speed. I released her hand and she went back to gripping the wall while I was slowly screwing her from behind. I pulled the dress down and her bra down, so a pair of beautiful DD size breast were freed from their restraints and bounced up and down to the rhythm. I could feel a buildup and increased speed.

"Look into my eyes!" I ordered and grabbed and squeezed her tit to underline the demand.

She looked up slowly and it made my pressure valve release, so I shot my load with such force that I almost made her fall into the mirror. What a short but fantastic fuck.

I slowly got hold of myself and pulled my dick out. I went to the bathroom and took a shower to cool down. As I got back, she had served the dinner and was trying to open the wine with some plastic bottle opener. I had my own in my bag which opened the Chilean Carmenere with ease.

"Do you like wine," I asked, "or prefer beer!"

"Wine," she said, "Red wine is fine."

And so, we small talked over a light dinner which was a salad with bits of chicken. I asked her about her history to build a picture of where she came from. She had grown up in a small town in Indiana where having a body and look like her meant cheerleading, sports, pageant contest and the like instead of academic skills. She had done all of that but wanted more and instead of college had found a job advert from New York as a waiter in a bar. Unsuspectingly she had gotten the job which even included a room to stay. When she arrived, it turned out that the bar owner expected to stay in the room some nights too including what he felt he paid for.