Will You Be Mine?

"They'll think you're mine. Which you are. Aren't you?"

He didn't wait for my answer. He plucked the key from inside of the lock, opened the door and pulled me outside. He switched off the light, locked up and slipped the key into his pocket. Then all I could do was scurry after him down the stairs, out onto the sidewalk and to the gleaming black sports car that was apparently his.

He held the door open and waited until I was inside, then he slipped the loop at the end of the leash over the small clothes hook above the door.

When he was seated himself, he smiled at me and patted my thigh. "Good girl."

*~*~*

The flat was huge, and unlike anything I had seen before. It was all just one single room. Kitchen, dining area, living room, bedroom -- all was one single open space. Even the bathroom was just a section next to the sleeping area, with a glass walled shower and just a waist high enclosure around the toilet providing some privacy. It was... hedonistic. Yes, that was the word. I told him so.

He smiled. "Finally," he said. "There's the smart girl with the big words again. I missed her."

I blushed madly and stood next to the large dining table, watching him while he took off his jacket and slipped it on a hanger. "I don't know why I'm going along with this, William."

"Really?" He went to a dark wooden panel that ran horizontally along a wall and pushed a hidden button. The panel slowly swung down and revealed a well-stocked bar. He poured himself a whiskey and dropped two ice cubes into the glass. "Barbaric, I know," he said lightly and picked up a taller glass. I watched him pour rum, whiskey and different juices into a shaker together with crushed ice. I gave it a few shakes and poured the mixture in the glass, poured a little grenadine on top and stuck a straw into it. Then he approached me.

"I haven't eaten yet," I said hesitantly when he held out the glass. "I'm a lightweight."

"I know," he said.

I took the glass and clinked it against his.

"Take a large sip," he said and nipped on his whiskey.

It was sweet and delicious. You couldn't really taste the alcohol, but I felt it the moment it reached my empty stomach. "It's strong," I observed, stirring it with the straw. "Good, but strong."

"As it's supposed to be." He took another sip of whiskey and eyed me over the rim of his glass. "I had expected more questions."

I took a deep breath. Then I took another long sip, alcoholic buzz be damned. I needed all the courage I could get. "I don't even know where to start," I admitted. "I don't know what you expect. I have no idea what to expect myself. What am I to you? Your girlfriend? Your lover? Your... sex slave?" My throat barely got out that last one, and shivers raced up and down my spine.

He swirled his remaining drink and smiled. Then he slipped and arm over my shoulder and led me towards the kitchen area. "You're mine, Billie. Let's not limit that to a narrow definition. You're whatever I want you to be at any given moment."

"Like property," I said. We stopped in front of the wood topped cooking island.

"I like the term 'valuable commodity' even more, Billie." He took the cocktail from my hand and stepped back. "Take off your panties."

"How romantic," I said. I tried to glare at him, but there was a strange, exciting tension in the air that made me lightheaded. So I whimpered instead, slipped up the hem of my dress and pushed my panties down. I stepped out of them and stood back up, straightened my skirt and wiggled nervously on my feet.

"Are they wet, Billie?"

"Soaked. You like saying my name when you say crude things."

"You caught me there. Show me how wet they are, Billie."

I gulped. This was all so crude and weird, but somehow, it was terribly exciting. I folded the gusset inside out, held them up and bit my lip, embarrassment washing over me. My nipples suddenly reminded me that they were still there, still clamped and throbbing and sensitive. Something like a small moan escaped my throat.

He chuckled and leaned close. "You weren't wrong," he observed, and took my panties from me. He carefully folded them so the gusset was at the outside. "We shouldn't put such a wet, dirty fabric on this pristine wood," he said with a smirk. "Now what to do with them..." He looked left and right, then he focused back on my and softly gripped my chin. "I know. You're going to hold them."

I reached up, but he shook his head, narrowing his eyes. Then I felt his thumb press lightly down on my chin, and I understood.

"William?" I asked, but he just intensified the pressure, and I knew it wasn't up for discussion. He wanted to put my sodden panties into my mouth. "Why?" I gasped, then I succumbed to the pressure.

"I want to see you blush." He slowly pushed the wad of fabric past my lips, and a musky, bitter-sweet taste coated my tongue. My nipples tingled again, delightful warmth filled my lower body, and I didn't understand a thing.

His finger pushed upwards on my chin, and I closed my mouth, feeling nasty and ashamed. "Your eyes are so pretty when you're embarrassed," he praised, and the warm feeling intensified. Then he reached down and pulled the hem of my dress up past my waist.

His strong hands wrapped around my midriff, and he lifted me effortlessly onto the island.

I whimpered with needy embarrassment, for he could, for the first time, see my pussy, puffy and dark with arousal. I had never developed a thick patch of hair, so I had taken to shaving it.

A breathless groan pulled my attention back to him. His eyes were wild and dark, focused on my exposed sex, and he was breathing hard. "Oh my god," he said quietly. "It's exquisite."

I swooned. My heart was trying to escape my chest. I had always been self-conscious about my girlish pussy, but in his face, I saw pure adoration.

His hands suddenly gripped my legs above my knees and lifted them up and out. I had to lean back onto my elbows, and I suddenly couldn't breathe. William leaned forward, spread my legs even wider, and then his lips touched the inside if my thigh near the very top, which sent my skin on fire.

I was dying, and soaring, and whimpering through my nose when he kissed and licked and nibbled on that soft, sensitive skin there, causing feeling I had never believed possible. I wanted to cry out in delight, to tell him how unbelievable this felt, but with my mouth stuffed, I had to struggle to get enough air through my nose. He licked my pussy lips with long, wet strokes that made the muscles in tummy dance. He bit my labia, pulled with his teeth like an animal about the devour me, and I whined and creamed. It felt incredible, like a dream, and just when I thought it couldn't get any better, his lips wiggled between my pussy lips and found my clit.

He sucked hard, almost painfully, and flicked it with the tip of his tongue. I thought I was going to melt, and then all that pleasure exploded out of me and crashed over me like a huge wave. A squeaking sound filled the air, and spots started dancing in my vision. My body twitched and jerked out of control.

Only William's strong hands kept me on the island top.

Aftershocks racked my lower body when he coated my pussy lips with gentle licks, and a tear trickled down my right cheek. I felt so incredibly grateful for this wonderful gift.

He lifted his head and grinned at me.

I probably looked silly with my cheeks bulging from being stuffed with my panties, but I grinned back deliriously.

Suddenly, he growled, lifted me and threw me over his shoulder. I squeaked, but he didn't pause. He carried me across the flat and threw me onto the bad. His hands pushed my legs wide apart, and he knelt between them.

My breath froze when he undid his fly and pushed down his trousers. I had been sure he was big, but I'd had no real concept. The stiff cock that he exposed was massive and long. And for the first time since I met him, I became fully aware of the enormous difference between us. I stared, and trembled, and only realized he had reached out to my pussy when a fingertip touched my opening and pressed against it.

I was sopping wet, thank god, and his finger slowly slid inside, stretching me like two of my own digits, reaching so much deeper than I could myself. It felt incredible! I arched my back and moaned through my nose.

He slowly began to finger-fuck me. In. Out. In. Out. My breathing adapted to his rhythm; my tummy started rolling with his thrusts. I lost myself in the hedonistic pleasure.

He stopped. Pulled out.

I whined.

Then the pressure was back, stronger, and my whining rose in pitch when the stretching was back in renewed intensity. He had added a digit, and I nearly lost my mind when he had stretched me enough to resume the fucking. At that moment, I loved him.

I felt a pillow being moved under my butt. His fingers slipped out, making me whimper with need. He tilted my legs up a bit and leaned over me. This time, the skin pressing against my opening was like silk, and I couldn't breathe. I tried to reach down to make sure he went slowly, but he gripped my wrists and pushed my hands far above my head, nailing them to the mattress with his weight.

"Look at me!" he demanded.

I had to tilt my head back. Our gazes locked.

And he pushed, without mercy. It hurt. My breath shuddered. It was too much! Too large!

"You're so fucking tight!" he grunted, rocking his hips, conquering another half inch of my pussy with his monster.

I started frantically shaking my head, but he kept pushing, and rocking, and burying himself inside ever so slowly.

"Can you feel it?" he rasped, almost delirious with arousal. "This is what you've been made for! The perfect cock sheath! So tight, so soft, so wet!" His hips rocked forward hard, and a feeling like being punched in the guts from the insides pushed all air from my lungs.

Thank god he held still and let my body get accustomed to the invasion. My pussy tried to clench at first, but it slowly relaxed. He felt it too. He slowly pulled back a few inches, paused, then pushed in again, and we both trembled. His eyes seemed to drill into my brain, telling me I was utterly his.

I remembered to breathe, and the air whistled in and out my nose. He increased the pace ever so slowly, kneading my pussy walls with each penetration, the mushroom head of his cock massaging me from the inside. It was less pain now and the pleasure mounted, still at a precarious balance, enduring it too intense yet too good to stop. I wanted him to stay inside me now. I wanted him to own me. I surrendered.

I wrapped my legs around him and hooked my feet together. When he pushed again, I pulled him in.

He froze for a second. His eyes searched mine. I have no idea what he found there, but all of a sudden, he was a beast possessed. He pulled out almost all the way, then shoved himself hard inside me with a grunt, touching that spot deep inside me again that punched my guts, and I whimpered and started crying.

He held himself still and questioned me silently.

I took a deep breath through my nose, and without understanding why, I nodded.

He was like a berserk after that. I cried and jerked and struggled while he fucked me as hard as he could. It seemed to last for ages. It hurt terribly and felt so good, and it ripped me apart with conflicting feelings. Then he stopped once more with just the tip inside me, and his grip on my wrists turned painful. His blazing eyes found my tear streaked ones, and he gave a few fast strokes, then he shuddered and twitched, his huge cock spilling his seed into my tiny pussy.

When he pulled out and collapsed on top of me, it was hard to breathe, but his strong, tanned body pressing down on mine felt so right that I didn't protest. I relaxed my legs and nuzzled my cheek against his chest. Something wet ran down to my ass cheeks, and I realized my pussy was leaking his cum. I wondered how it looked. Was it still spread open? Would it ever close up again? It felt like a river was running from my vagina, and I giggled softly.

That, somehow, seemed to remind him I was under him. He rolled off me, pulled the dress completely off my body and undid the clamps, drawing muffled yelps from me when the blood shot back into my nipples and filled them with a sharp pain. Finally, he gently pried my mouth open and pulled out the sodden panties. I worked my strained jaw and yawned. He turned me onto my side and spooned me, and I must have fallen asleep only seconds later.

*~*~*

I thought it was already morning when I woke up. It took me a while to remember where I was, but then it came back to me, and embarrassment washed over me. I blinked my eyes open and spotted him across the room, fully naked, stirring something in a pot. My eyes flickered to the clock above the entrance and I had to blink. It showed ten thirty. A look at the window confirmed that it was dark outside. My mind took a moment to work out the mismatch, then it sped up. It was still evening. And my bladder was nagging me.

I sat up and tried to crawl off the bed, but when I moved my legs, I felt a dull pain between them. I groaned and moved more carefully, slowly getting to my feet when I reached the edge.

"Where are you going, Billie?"

"Ugh," I groaned. "I gotta pee. You fucked my pussy sore." I took slow, short steps towards the bathroom area and awkwardly sat down on the toilet seat. When I tried to close the low screen door, it wouldn't budge. "Hey!" I exclaimed and covered my pussy with my hands when I saw him standing in front of me. My cheeks started burning.

He smiled at me. "Keep it open. And take away your hands. I'm going to watch you pee."

"Why?"

"Because it embarrasses you. I told you I like seeing your eyes when you're embarrassed."

"You're weird," I said. "And a pervert."

"And you're still here. Your nipples are sore. Your pussy hurts. Yet you're still here."

I bit my lip and removed my hands. It took me a few slow breaths until I could relax myself enough to start peeing, but I had really needed to go. "Happy?" I asked, looking at the tiles between my knees.

"Actually, yes," he said lightly. "I love looking at your pussy. I've never before fucked such a puffy specimen where the outer lips closed all the way."

"Thanks, I guess," I said. My flow shuddered a few times.

"Have you ever played with your ass?"

"Fuck you," I groaned quietly and focused to keep the flow going. "No, I haven't."

"That's good." He turned around and took a step, but then he stopped and turned back. "You're going to move in with me."

"Excuse me?"

"You're going to move in with me, Billie." He plucked two sheets of toilet paper, folded them and held them out to me, a gesture that felt strangely intimate. "I want you here as much as possible." A ding sounded from the kitchen. "Dinner's ready," he said, ending the discussion and leaving me to stare at his back.

I was going to move in with him. Not "I want you to move in with me." Or "Do you want to move in with me?" A part of me was deeply affronted. And another part of me, one I had only recently discovered, the one that had encouraged him to abuse my untrained pussy, moaned.

I flushed and went to wash my hands while I listened to William setting the table. I caught a whiff of seafood, and my stomach growled. The one thing that wasn't small about me was my appetite, my mother had always said. "This smells delicious."

"Spaghetti alle vongole. Pasta with clams." I watched him pour two glasses of wine.

My naked feet pattered audibly across the hardwood floor. "I'm starving. How long have you been up already?"

"A little over an hour. Had a shower first thing, then I started with the food. You woke up just in time."

I blushed, realizing that I was still carrying the smells of our love making. "Sorry. I should probably take-"

He cut me off. "You should sit down and eat now. I like it that you smell of my cum."

"Okay," I said, not knowing what else I could reply to that, and slid onto the seat across from him.

He took a look at me and sighed. Then pulled my plate back across the table.

"What are you doing?"

"This is stupid," he said, gesturing towards me, and he had a point. This was made for tall people, not for dwarfs like me. The edge of the table was above my chest.

He slid the cutlery next to the plate and put my glass next to it. "You can sit on the table. That way, I can look at your pussy while we eat."

I rolled my eyes. "Are you ever not thinking about pussy?"

He took a swig of wine and laughed. "Lately? Not." He put down his glass and started filling our plates. "Hop up and let's eat."

It was embarrassing, and I still blushed, but I had crossed so many lines today that this one hardly mattered, I told myself. The pasta was delicious. We, surprisingly, talked about all kinds of things, but not about sex. We didn't talk about us, meaning our relationship or whatever I was supposed to call it, either, which was a good thing. When I was full, I stifled a yawn. William didn't seem tired, but he dimmed the light, slapped my naked butt and told me to brush my teeth since it was bedtime.

*~*~*

The sun was already up when I awoke. I lay still on my back for a while, listening to William's even breathing, and tried to make sense of myself and everything that had happened. I slipped my fingers down to my pussy and prodded a bit from the outside, quickly realizing that I was still pretty sore down there.

William's treatment of me was an emotional roller coaster, a constant switching between hot and cold showers. How could I allow that? He acted like I had no power to make decisions at all. I was a grown-up woman. I had been making decisions all my life. I had been...

My mind ground to a halt. A huge sign flashed in front my mind's eye. It read, "Insufficient."

Not outgoing enough. Not self-assured enough. Not tall enough, not womanly enough. I'd been forever caught in a constant struggle against myself which I was inevitably bound to lose.

William's absolute authority took some of that struggle from me, absolved me of that responsibility.

And yet, the competitive part of me, and my pronounced sense of justice, didn't allow me to offload my responsibility so easily. I tried to remember what I experienced when he abused my poor pussy, and I flinched at the revelation that it had felt so right, so... deserved. I suffered -- no, I atoned -- for the pleasure he had brought me with his mouth, and for the incredible feeling of being wanted and desired. And I was terrified suddenly, because I recognized that as long as William was willing to provide me with his attention and sexual pleasure, I was willing to atone. I was even willing to pay up front, and I'd let him decide the exchange rate.

I carefully turned onto to my side and found his eyes open. "Good morning, William," I greeted quietly, my cheeks burning madly.

"Good morning, Billie," he said with a smile. "What's going on in that cute head of yours?"

His eyes flickered to my chest for a second, and a terrifying idea welled up in me. My breath shivered. I couldn't... could I? Suddenly, I felt like jumping off a cliff without knowing what was waiting behind it, and I started talking before sanity could stop me. "I'm sorry that I don't have real breasts for you to play with, William," I said, and started feeling as contrite as I sounded. "I'm sorry you have to look at my useless bee stings all the time when I'm naked."

I don't know how long we just lay there, gazes locked, my body trembling with mad arousal, embarrassment burning my skin while I worked myself into a panic, wondering if I was making a fool out of myself or taking things a step too far.

His voice startled me a little, and it took me a moment to really understand what he was saying.

"You have a point, Billie. Your tiny titties are a bit of an insult to anybody seeing you naked. We will have to punish them harshly every day for their impertinence."