You're Mine

"Ben, I'm a little nervous." He said. He didn't have to tell me. I could feel his heartbeat fluttering against my palm, through his bare chest. I tightened my grip on his four-inch body. "You're... You're very big." He said a little breathlessly. It wasn't the obviousness of this sentence but his look of dizziness; of being totally overwhelmed, that made me smile.

"Hey, don't worry." I told him. "I've got you."

This was meant both as a caring reassurance, and a firm reminder of our agreement. Once he was in my hands, he was mine. No grace period. No looking back. No 'I miss my family and friends and life'.

With my free hand I massaged the throbbing lump in the front of my jeans. We were finally home, back at my house with the door locked. His sweaty little figure wriggled in my fist. I had his arms pinned flat against his sides and as he searched for just a little bit of elbow room I held tighter, and his nervous squirming increased. I saw the panic starting to set in on his face, already weathered by a long and complicated life.

"Hey." I said in a soothing voice as I brought him closer to my face. "This is what you wanted, remember. And I'm going to take care of you." I slid my fingers over him to make a more loose but no less constricting cage. He needed to get used to his every muscle and movement being under my control. Just like we'd always fantasised about.