My Shy Teen Slave Ch. 07

She was completely spent from the night before, lying on her back, a relaxed look spread across her delicate features. I didn't want her to be snapped out of this haze when I woke her up. She was still naked, her legs naturally spread. I could see her bare, pink pussy. Unable to stop myself, I kissed it. Then, careful not to wake her, I spread her legs further and gently kissed the inside of her thigh, never taking my eyes off of her face. I slowly moved my kisses up higher. I eventually gave her one soft, slow, long lick right down her slit with the tip of my tongue. She whimpered in her sleep, causing me to smile. I teasingly continued to lick at her, enjoying how easily I could get her wet. I kissed her, right over the hole but not inside it. I used my mouth to gingerly caress her most intimate, sensitive places.

She was starting to moan, and I learned that she actually did moan a lot, they were just so soft and a little high pitched. She must have been hiding them earlier.

I parted her lips with my thumb, spreading them further. I gave her clit a series of quick, soft kisses. She was just barely humping my face, craving more. Her clit was swollen, and when I gave it one, hard suck, she moaned out loud and I felt it swell even more as I pulled it into my mouth. I really did love to torture that small bundle of nerves, as I always knew how to find it. Her pink lips were puffy and glistening with her own juices. I continued to suck her clit for a while as I watched her breathing change, starting to wake up. I gave it one soft, experimental bite. She cried out so loudly that she woke herself. I lightly circled her clit with my tongue, occasionally dipping down giving her one, firm lick with the flat of my tongue. I didn't increase in speed or intensity, just continued to do this until her eyes were open, and she was watching me, half asleep.

"Morning, little girl," I said into her cunt, making sure she could feel the vibrations.

She whined back at me, reaching her hand down and resting her fingers in my messy hair.

I blew cool air over her adorable little petals as I stroked them with my thumb. I was stimulating her entire body this way, enough to make her hot and miserable, but not enough to make her cum. I felt her fingers tighten, tangling themselves in my hair, and she pulled my head to her pussy, humping my face. I grinned and began to suck at her cunt, biting it softly, letting her be slowly brought to an orgasm, and keeping her right on the edge. I knew how much more she needed. She was just so cute when she was like this, so needy and dependent on me.

"Clark..." She begged. "Please,"

"Please, what?" I teased, using my teeth to play with her clit.

She moaned.

"Tell me what you want me to do, and I'll do it." I taunted from between her legs.

"Eat me." She said, sleeping removing her hesitation. "Clark, please."

I obliged, eagerly tongue fucking her and rubbing her clit in circular motions with my fingers. She was grinding against me, crying out with need.

"Cum," I said into her, and she cried out...and couldn't stop. I felt her climax and lapped up all the sweet juices that ran from her.

She was out of breath when I climbed out from between her thighs. She kissed me, hard and wanting. I ravaged her mouth, letting her taste the evidence of what I did to her.

"Can you taste yourself?" I whispered.

She nodded and hungrily kissed me again.

We showered together, and she grew shy again as she tried to cover herself with her arms.

"Why do you always do that?" I asked.

She looked up at me innocently.

"You just begged me to make you cum, and now you're embarrassed for me to see you."

She turned her head away, and I took her wrists and lowered them to her sides. She blushed as I unabashedly drank in her body with my eyes.

"See?" I said. "It's just me. You don't have to be modest."

I kissed her, only because I wanted to make sure she was still real. Sometimes, since she never talks, it's like she disappears. Then, just like the water, the kissing got steamier. It was messy, though you couldn't tell because we were both wet. She kissed me back like an expert, and gasped when I lowered my head more to suck on her neck, surely leaving another mark. I lowered my hand to her mound and casually pet it.

"Piano," She said, pushing me back slightly. "You said you had one yesterday."

"What?" I asked, dazed. "Yeah, downstairs. Did you still want to see it?"

She nodded.

"Okay, we'll go downstairs after this."

She then proceeded to blow me in appreciation. She was very strange, but I wasn't complaining.

Both of us in our underwear and t shirts, we headed downstairs and I lead her to a part of the house she had never been to before. Her eyes were forever wide, taking in every painting or vase of flowers on a table. I was lucky that my sister hired decorators, otherwise most of the estate would be bare.

"Should I close my eyes?" She asked anxiously.

I shook my head. "I trust you."

She tentatively reached out and held my hand. I kissed her hand.

When we reached that one room, with the piano placed tastefully in the middle, her mood visibly improved.

"Do you play?" She asked.

I shrugged. "Not really. It's just a family thing to have an expensive piano in your house."

"It's beautiful..." She mused, lost in thought.

I motioned to the seat. "Go on."

I realized that she must have been uncomfortable with me standing directly behind her, so I pulled a chair over and sat next to her, but far enough so that she could reach every key, if she needed to.

"I'm out of practice." She said. "I haven't played in a year."

"That's okay." I said. "I want to hear what you sound like. And it's not like I could play any better."

Her left hand started to move, starting on a low C sharp. The piano was a little out of tune, but that made it sound a little more real. Seamlessly, she brought it to an F natural an octave higher, and those are honestly the only names of the notes I could remember, because after that, I was lost. It was a slow, melodic song that I surely heard before somewhere. It wasn't even that it was an insanely difficult piece of music. It was just that she played with such beautiful emotion, her hands delicately caressing the keys. But she didn't play carefully. There was nothing careful about it. It was organic, and sound poured from the open lid of the piano as she stretched her hands in ways I didn't know she could. I fell in love with her, then, in a way I never thought I could love anyone.

I first fell in love with her appearance, to be completely honest. When I saw that small, delicate frame paired with surely the sweetest face known to mankind, I knew I could never love anyone else but her. I then fell in love with her personality. She was so shy, and I was starting to doubt I would ever completely figure her out. But that's part of what I liked about her. I loved her mystery. I loved her grace. I fell in love with her scent, then her taste. And I thought I had fallen in love with her sound when I had heard her voice. But I hadn't, because nothing could compare to the slightly out of tune, but perfect music that soared through the air in invisible, transverse waves.

"Consolation No. 3" She said when she drew her hands back down to her thighs.

"Franz Liszt." I swallowed. "One of my favorites."

She smiled nervously. "Mine, too."

I smiled at her and brushed her hair behind her shoulder.

"That was beautiful... Play more."

And she gladly did. A rondo that I didn't recognize, a nocturne, and moonlight sonata.

"Do you learn by ear?" I asked, the first words spoken in about twenty minutes.

"I can, but I learned all these with sheets."

"We'll get some next time we go stay in town." I said.

She smiled, then got up, pushed her chair in, and walked over to mine. She sat sideways onto my lap and tucked her head under my chin. I moved my arms to hold her.

"What's tonight going to be like?" She asked in a small voice.

"One of my brothers is going to be there." I said evenly.

"Does he know?"

"None of my family knows anything about my lifestyle, and I'm keeping it that way. He knows I have a girlfriend, but I haven't told him anything else about you."

"Girlfriend..." She mused.

"What?" I asked.

"When did I become your girlfriend?" She giggled and looked up at me.

"When I bought you from a slave dealership."

"That made me your slave. Being your girlfriend has to be consensual."

I smiled down at her, and I had butterflies in my stomach, like I was in middle school or something.

"Okay, then, Juliet. Will you be my girlfriend?"

She placed a chaste kiss on my jaw.

"Yes."

I chuckled and picked her up, one arm under her knees and the other supporting her back. She laughed and wrapped her arms around my neck, and I carried her to the couch.

We made out like teenagers. Her lips left fire trailing across mine, and we were both content with just kissing for a long time. I learned that I didn't always need to have sex with her to be with her. I just needed to have her around.

***

She had curled her hair and pinned it in a way I could only describe as a princess. She was wearing makeup, although she didn't cover her freckles. I would have wiped it off anyways. It was only on her eyes, and it made the blue stand out even more. And she was wearing heels. Not too high, but still made her a fair bit taller. I was only about a head taller than her when we were both standing. She was wearing a short blue dress that was just...pretty. I am so clueless when it comes to anything about fashion, but she really did look pretty. And I was a little proud to show her off.

She stared out the window of the car, intentionally preventing herself from being nervous.

I rested a hand on her knee.

"About ten minutes until we're there."

She glanced up at me, then back down.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

"This is a drinking thing, right?" She questioned softly.

"It's a cocktail party, not a drinking thing."

She stayed silent and shifted away from me.

"What?" I asked again, trying to gently coax her out of her shell.

"Well..." She started after a while. "I'm technically not able to drink yet."

I blinked.

When I was four years old, she was just a baby. I had put that much together. But I had forgotten that only two years ago, I had been given the privilege to drink. And she was still a teenager.

"Well, shit." I said, shaking my head. "They won't card you or anything. I'll be with you the whole time."

"But I still can't drink. That's illegal."

I looked over at her, confused, when I saw that she was smiling. She was making a joke.

I laughed. "Jesus Christ, Love."

As we walked into the hotel, the sun was setting, and she looked longingly at the sky.

"It'll be over before you know it." I said. "Just try to have fun."

"Please don't leave me." She said, looking up at me with her wide, doe eyes.

"I'll try not to."

"Try?" She questioned.

"I won't be able to stick to your side the entire night." I sighed. "You'll probably end up talking with a group of girls from the office. But they're all nice."

"I can't talk with them." She said softly. "I have nothing to talk about."

"Nothing?" I said.

"I know nothing about the world."

Okay, I honestly hadn't thought of that. The fact that she had basically no knowledge current events had slipped my mind.

"Well, you know a lot about books, and music, I'm guessing. Just don't say anything too controversial and you'll be fine. Either way, I'll try to stay with you." I promised.

She was visibly anxious, and I held her hand as we walked through the door.

Being the employer of everyone in the room, I always knew that I made a presence. I greeted people as I walked through. I made several introductions of Juliet, and she gave several shy smiles.

"This is my girlfriend, Juliet." I told one of my chief execs, a man in his mid-thirties. He was a friend of mine. We had gone out for drinks before in a group, and oddly they never found my age to be strange. For the most part, I had been acting forty years old since I was fifteen.

He reached out his hand to her, and she delicately shook it.

"I'm Scott." He said friendlily.

"Nice to meet you." She said politely, but quietly.

I reached my arm around her waist.

"She's a little shy." I explained.

"Ah, that's okay." He said. "Well, congratulations, Clark."

"For what?" I asked, although I already knew what was coming.

"For proving that you are actually a straight male, and all of us thought you were lying." He glanced at Juliet. "He's not lying, is he?"

She giggled and shook her head.

Scott and I talked a bit about shareholders and the economy, and I could tell that Juliet was listening avidly. Any chance she could get to learn new information, she would take. In retrospect, that could have been dangerous. But she was learning to love me.

With a clap on my shoulder, Scott left us to go find his wife.

"Come on," I lead her more towards the middle of the room. "Let's go find my idiot brother."

She nodded and followed me, looking slightly dazed.

"I'm sorry if I'm embarrassing you." She said quietly, nervously holding onto my arm. "I'm probably not what people were expecting."

"You're really not." I told her honestly. "Half the people here probably thought I was gay or awkward, and the other half thought when I did get a girl, it would be one of the snotty model types who only wanted my money. But I they like you, trust me. You're not embarrassing me. And I love your voice. I love when you at least try to talk to people." I tried to comfort her, knowing a thousand different thoughts were probably running through her head.

"I can't talk to people." She bit her lip. "I can barely talk to you."

"But you do." I reminded her. "And I love you for that."

She smiled up at me, and I pecked her on the lips.

"I love you." I told her.

She took a second to reply. "I love you, too."

It didn't take long after that to find my brother, arm and arm with his fiancée, who was exactly the snotty model type that only wanted him for his money. Big chest, small waist, long legs. She was tall, only a little shorter than me. She had recently cut her platinum blonde hair to right below her chin, and since then has spent all her time complaining about how much she hates it and how hard she's trying to grow it out. Tyler was my oldest brother, he and his fiancée both twenty nine.

"Clark!" Tyler called, hugging and clapping me on the back.

I grinned. "What's up, man?"

He pulled away and comically gawked at Juliet.

"Holy fucking shit, she's real." He joked. "Are you okay?" He asked her. "Is he keeping you against your will?"

We both laughed a little too hard at that.

"Well, she's real." I assured him. "This is Juliet."

"I'm Tyler, the cool brother." He took her hand and kissed it. His fiancée rolled her eyes.

She was blushing furiously and looked away.

"I'm Gabby." My brother's fiancée introduced herself.

Juliet offered a smile back.

"Oh, hell," Gabby pulled her into a hug. I couldn't help but chuckle at Juliet's face. "We're just so glad he's not gay."

"Why does everyone think I'm gay?" I asked. "When have I ever acted gay?"

"Not gay." Tyler explained. "Just asexual."

"Well I'm not."

"I can see that, little brother."

Eventually, more people gathered, and the men and women sort of split in their conversations. I was less than a few meters away from her, but honestly, she was on her own. And the way she had to fend the rest of the girls off was amusing. I couldn't pay much attention to my own discussion about the company's lack of a gross of affirmative action in comparison to competitors'.

"So, what's he like?" A woman from the front desk asked her. "I feel like he'd be a bit domineering."

"Really?" Gabby questioned. "I kind of thought he'd be directly in the middle. Nothing off about him...besides all the money. What is he like?"

Juliet glanced away. "He's nice."

They all laughed, not used to her shyness. I smiled to myself. I'm nice.

"What do you do together?" Gabby asked her.

"We haven't been together very long." Juliet answered quietly. "We go on walks, and go to the library, and he picks me flowers sometimes."

The girls all cooed.

"That's so sweet! I wish my husband picked me flowers." One of them said.

"Never pegged him for the romantic type." Victoria, an older woman around sixty five, said. "You're just so sweet. He doesn't take advantage of you, does he?" She teased.

Juliet shook her head, smiling timidly.

"How old are you, anyways?" Gabby asked. "You look so little."

"Twenty one," She lied effortlessly.

"Really? You look like a teenager! God, I wish I could look like that."

Then everyone turned their attention to her to tell her how pretty they thought she was. That was the way that group worked.

We eventually found our way out, able to skip out on drinking because I had to drive home, and no one would force such a childlike young girl to drink.

As we walked to the car, I wrapped my arm around her.

"You were great. Really great, Love."

She beamed. "Thank you."

"Did you have fun?" I asked.

"I had fun watching people tease you, and at the same time tell you how wonderful you are. It was strange."

"They only do that because I'm their boss." I opened her car door for her.

As we sat in the car, music playing softly. I told her my plans for the next day. She pouted and stared out the window, but didn't object to me.

I really did love her.