Topics created by green

@green Intresting.

Owen was no stranger to wet dreams. The ones he was used to were always so busy, noisy, and overly complicated. One of his most notable ones was a dream where he was the ringleader on a bank heist, and in order for the heist to work he had to disable the security system on the roof. Only, the security system on the roof was one of his old bosses who he had a crush on, and the only way to disable her was to deposit a load of ejaculate across her tits. This task was made all the more complicated by the fact that she was reading out the weather report with her mouth. He was just barely able to finish that time, waking up on that particular morning with a mess in his pants and the radio next to his bed blaring.

This wet dream was completely different from that.

For starters, this one wasn’t some sort of biophysical reaction to him abstaining from sex and masturbation for long periods of time, like the others. Being in the service industry, Thursdays were basically his Mondays. He’d be too tired and burnt out and busy over the weekend for much fun and relaxation, so took advantage of those last few hours alone during the previous night to for a slow, sensual and, rigorous session that had him opening up nearly a dozen tabs on his browser and later feeling that extraordinary level of shame and disgust that appears when closing that many tabs and throwing out that much tissue paper.

There was no complex plot or cameo appearances from random figures in his life or low-level celebrities. There was no sense of urgency to finish up as soon as possible for the sake of some convoluted goal. The dream was as simple as can be. It was just him, alone in his apartment, lying back and being serviced by a little bitch at his cock. He wasn’t bothered by the pile of unanswered questions. There was no indication of when this dream started. There was no logic to why this little tiny anonymous figure was suddenly devoted to servicing him like this.

Sure, fantasies of tiny women and all the things that could be done with them were not uncommon and something that Owen occasionally humored, but there wasn’t any reason why she couldn’t have just been full-sized and doing all the same things. He’d occasionally delved into what little porn existed of different-sized relationships, but it was more of a curiosity than a priority. There was no sense of immersion to it as the tinies were always handled as if they were made of glass, under the constant threat of litigation and punishment for mistreating shrunken actors and actresses. It was always an unreachable and unaffordable fantasy for many, especially for him. He had pride in the little place on earth he had managed to cultivate through his hard work, this sparse studio apartment, but knew and accepted that it would be many years of grinding or luck beyond measure that would enable him to have nice things.

It was all the more reason for him to just slow down and try to savor this as much as possible. He stopped trying to analyze the situation and just closed his eyes in an attempt to concentrate as much on the sensations as possible. Each footstep, grab, squeeze, lick, and nibble was magnified. He inadvertently explored the curves of that compressed little body as they were pushed into and rubbed up and down his hard and sensitive shaft. There was a magical unpredictability in those movements of hers as she alternated between using those hands, legs, and mouth to tickle, tease, and bring upon his impending orgasm. As much as he wanted this moment to last forever, there was no slowing down or stopping the inevitable. Despite only being a few inches tall, the pure enthusiasm with which she threw herself into this task was beyond his powers of resistance.

A peace came over Owen as he felt her wiggling and climbing her way up to the tip of his cock. The feelings that come with dreams were always transitory for him. No matter how deep or meaningful or exciting they were, all memory and meaning would eventually slip away. As he could feel that tongue of hers happily lapping up his precum and those hands secure their grip on him, that dread of it all fading away was absent. He knew he would always own this moment. No one could take it away from him. In the moment before he could feel himself erupt in an orgasmic finish, there was even the undeniable and strong feeling that he would always own her.

He didn’t need to be told that the dream was over as he finally came. A full-body orgasm, something he’d only achieved a few times before with a partner and never by himself, overtook him as he remained still and basked in the feeling. After a few seconds of feeling his cock empty and deflate, he turned his head over to the side and gazed at the time on his alarm clock. In a feat of amazing timing, it was 8:59, one minute before he was set to wake up.
He reached over his alarm clock and grabbed his phone, which he had purposefully left just on the other side of the alarm clock just before he went to bed. He had things set up to where the alarm clock would start up and turn on the morning radio, while his phone would play the standard alarm sound. The combination of both noises was tough to ignore and override in a deep sleep. As he turned on his phone screen to deactivate the alarm within it, the amount of notifications took him by surprise.

There were 15 missed calls, and an uncountable number of messages that had popped up. Among them, he could see one from his current boss that read “WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?” and another that said “WE NEED TO TALK. DON’T IGNORE ME!”

9:00 struck, and the radio came to life.

“Today’s going to be a big Friday! We’re going to be giving $500 to one of our lucky listeners within the next hour. But first, here’s the 9 o’clock news and weather…” The radio DJ trailed on.

“What the fuck?” Owen exclaimed out loud.

It would have been appropriate for this reaction to have been elicited by having apparently slept entirely through all of Thursday, but his attention was drawn elsewhere in that moment as he dropped his phone and looked down across his body at Sadie. She wasn’t the only one who just realized that the events that had transpired so far this morning weren’t merely a dream.

Safaa’s entire world imploded. Waves of pleasure outgrew and crashed down on her. This was no time for discretion or holding back. With her back arched, she spasmed and cried out in pure ecstasy. Her orgasm was fueled and prolonged by the knowledge that it had all been on command. This first time would have been her greatest chance of breaking free and resisting his words and touch. With equal amounts resignation and excitement, she knew that any future attempts at undoing this spell would only be even more futile and weak. With a single hit, she was already hooked on the drug that was Kingston. She had no honest idea of how long she laid there riding each titillating swell and surge. With thoughts of her new permanent status still marinating in her mind, she finally opened her eyes and looked up at her owner and Master.

He simply met her with a smile and began to speak, as if he was waiting for this particular cue to do so.

“I don’t even have to say it - but I’m going to say it anyways - I’m always going to own your little ass and I can do that to you any damn time I want.”

There was no more quipping from Safaa. No denial or retort. All she could do was moan and nod her head as she slowly felt herself pull away from that stream of utter delight.

“End scene.” He said as he loudly snapped his fingers.

In an instant she yelled out, even as she still shook and was on the verge of hyperventilating.

“HOLY…FUCK!..I GOD…-” was all she could manage before he brought his hand down towards her in a gesture for her to slow down.

“Just breathe. Focus on nothing else for the time being. Just breathe.” He instructed, and not just to her. A jolt of adrenaline and excitement ran through him as he watched the entire spectacle beneath him unfold. For the first time that night, he let his shoulders completely relax and slump down, and matched the pace of his little pet’s panting. No matter how many times he did it, witnessing his trained little slut coming on command like that would never get old. As her breathing slowed down to a more reasonable and talkable level he let himself roll to the side. A slow and deliberate move that he had practiced in order to ensure she wasn’t smushed into the bed, or jostled about too much. He lied down on his side and continued to admire her resting form.

“So how was that?” He curiously inquired.

She looked back at him with wide open eyes. “Like I said. Hoooly fuck! Amazing!”

“Is that it?” He said, amused with the response.

“Fuck. It’s a lot for me to unpack. I don’t know what else to say right now. Gimme a moment.” She replied as she looked back up at the ceiling.

“Let’s do an easier question. Did you want to get something to drink, or should we get cleaned up first?”

“Holy shit, I thought you’d never ask. Drink. Drink drink drink!” she said as she used her arms to sit herself up. There was a slight wince as the tightness and soreness of her body started to become apparent.

He reached over and grabbed the vial. It was no source of magical unshrinking serum. It merely contained a small amount of flavored water that he himself had poured in a few minutes prior to the start of their scene.

“I do apologize. They were out of that green watermelon stuff you like down at the restaurant, so I hope you don’t mind fruit punch. I saw just a little hint of disappointment on your face when I first showed it to you.” He said as he unscrewed the lid.

“Not your fault.” she comforted him, as she looked up and licked her lips.

“I could cool it down for you, if you…,” He said, as he was interrupted by a head shake of no from his pet.

“Alright, you’re the boss.” He teased as he lowered it down and placed it between her legs. She eagerly grabbed it and tilted it forward into her mouth.

“Whoa, nice and slow.” He chided her.

She just rolled her eyes and drank, caring little about the spilled drops that hit her face and trickled down her body. After chugging a few immodest and healthy gulps, she pushed back the vial for him to grab and seal up again for later. As he sealed up the lid and gave the vial another little toss, he instructed her. “Okay. Good. You’re a little pancake now. Nice and flat.”

She obediently let herself lie back down. She was a good little pancake, as he shuffled and stood himself up off of the bed. Each movement and rocking of the bed was all the more bearable as she remained flat against the surface.

“Alright. Spatula time.” He dictated from above as he stood at the side of the bed over her. He brought his hand down, palm up in the air, next to her. As he started to apply downward pressure and dig into the soft mattress, he slid towards her. Much like how a spatula would actually pick up a pancake, he scooped her up into his palm. He took one look down at the floor, and with a cautious and deliberate pace he began to walk towards the bathroom. The beam of light across the floor reminded him of the fact that he had neglected to turn off the lightswitch after taking his shower, he gave himself a disappointed head shake as he walked through the doorway.

Showing concern at this shake, his little palm pancake spoke up with “Was I good? Did I do a good job?”

“Yes. You did fucking incredible!” He reassured her.

“What was that head shake just now about, then?”

“I forgot to turn off the goddamn light in here when I was singing.”

“Hah! You fucking dork!” She said, with a hint of relief in her voice.

As she teased, he used his free hand to subtly turn on the knob of the bathroom faucet. He just needed a slow, easy flow of warm water to come out of it. This part was always trial and error. It must have been some plumbing union rule that every hotel bathroom had to have its own unique water pressure and range of temperatures. As he continued fiddling and testing the water temperature, he resumed the conversation.

“Was the special agent angle alright?”

“I didn’t mind it. It could use some work, and I think you applied the knee jerk awkward creepiness a little too early, but I still thought it was fun to work with.” She honestly answered. She continued “By the way, how the fuck do you know the national anthem of Costa Rica? Was that actually their national anthem? You told me you’ve never traveled out of the country before.”

He briefly winced at the touch of water that was too hot before readjusting the knob and answering “Oh, that. Yeah, it really is the anthem! When I was 10, we were going to go for a little trip down there. Mom and Dad had it planned out a year in advance and I was so excited. Practically memorized the wikipedia page for it. But then that whole thing happened, and no one was traveling for a while. And we just kind of forgot about it. But the anthem is still stuck in my head.”

“Aww, poor baby.” She jeered.

“I fucking love the name you used, by the way. Safaa. Safaaaa. You’re gonna have to use that one again. It just rolls off the tongue. Just like you.”

She rolled her eyes back and momentarily covered her face.

"Fuck me. What did I do to deserve an owner as cheesy and full of bad jokes as you? Also I’ll have you know I deserve all the Oscars for keeping all my shit together when you told me your name was Kingston. Fucking Kingston. Who the fuck names their child Kingston? I wasn’t sure if you were going to shrink me or try to sell me cocaine. Fuck. That’s not even a real name. That’s the capital of Jamaica.” She let out, as he found a satisfactory temperature and began moving her closer to the faucet.

“Hey, don’t be mean. You know how I feel about using my real name when we do this kind of stuff. I just went off of the first result I got from some online name generator. Tease whoever programmed that why dontcha?” He said with a feigned look of sadness on his face as he brought her under the stream of water.

“Maybe don’t use online name generators like a total hack? At least you’ll have a few more days to actually work and think of a better name while I recover. I still can’t feel my fucking toes by the way." she spoke with a little more volume as warm water washed over her chest.

"Oh my god! Fuck! Sorry about that! Was that when I dropped you like 2 feet onto the mattress?” He momentarily panicked as he brought her out from under the water.

“Oh no! I really liked that part. I mean, it was kinda fucked, but you know me. No. It was those damn shoes. I’m not used to wearing them any more, so they mess up my feet.” She corrected him as he used his other hand to grab a soap dispenser. He lifted it above her and squeezed out a few drops of moisturizing liquid soap, that landed on her tits in a way reminiscent of the cumshot she had just taken minutes before.

As he set the soap dispenser back down, he remarked “Sure yeah. But it’s still kinda my fault for keeping you like this all the time and hardly ever giving you the chance to wear…well, anything.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re really fucking sorry.” She sarcastically retorted as he began to rub and lather up the soap on her and return her to the water. Neither of them spoke as he gently washed and massaged her tired little body. She really did miss having clothes, and was sure to brattily remind him all the time of how convenient and ideal things would be if she was allowed any. But as his gaze and his fingers moved across her naked self, she felt a sense of contentment. In being ogled and fondled as his toy and plaything, there was a fulfillment of purpose that she seldom found before all of this. Not even being flipped over for the process to resume on her backside could diminish the little high she experienced in being handled and treated like this. Just another one of his things to be cleaned and taken care of.

He turned off the faucet and moved his newly cleaned little toy above the small hand towel that he had already folded and laid out before all of this. With the fingers of his other hand, he gently slid her off of his palm and onto the soft white fibers. She let out a little squeak as she landed and quickly grabbed a corner of the towel to pull over herself as she immediately felt the absence of his warm hands. She turned to the side and looked at him. With his usual trademark brand of swagger, as if he was some movie star, he reached around her to grab a few sheets of tissue paper. Every action of his, even in something as mundane as cleaning off his cock, still managed to mesmerize her. Maybe one of these days he would eventually tell her how exactly he manages to shrink and regrow her at will, but she honestly preferred the mystery he curated and the sense of theatricality that he always strove for. There was nothing like a little roleplay now and then to keep her on her toes.

“What are you going to do?” She inquired from within her cotton cocoon.

“Finish cleaning up. Pick everything up off of the floor and bed. Then do my best to wipe up the mess on the mattress. And maybe just stay up for a while after that. I think I’ll resew the buttons back onto your shirt again.” He listed off.

“I’d love to stay up and watch you - but you tired me right the fuck out. If I fall asleep here, just carry me to bed.”

“Oh, no worries. I’m used to it. You know I have such a hard time falling asleep in hotel rooms.”

THE END