My Shy Teen Slave Ch. 01

1

Obviously uncomfortable, she started to bite her lip and self-consciously move her arms to cover herself. She glanced at the window and then back at me, her blue eyes pleading.

I sighed. "There's no one around for miles, Love. And no one can get close enough to see through this window even if they tried."

She knew that was true, although I sometimes teased her saying that it wasn't.

"Do I have to?" She murmured.

"You know, you really seem to forget that I own you."

She whispered an apology, but didn't add master at the end of it.

She was just so damn embarrassed of her own body, even though she knew it was beautiful. She had to know, I told her so often. Her shyness was cute, endearing, and honestly it turned me on, but it made it so much more frustrating when I tried to give her a simple order that would never be a problem for other slaves.

I remembered when I first got her, looking through the market. In our part of the country, selling people was legal...as long as you didn't get caught. It was common for people to have sex slaves, and for some, it was really just having something to keep you company. That was more or less myself. At only twenty three, I was one of the youngest entrepreneurs out in the field. Which means I didn't have much time for a clingy girlfriend. I didn't want one of those really slutty slaves, either, who sold themselves into slavery because they just wanted someone to take care of them for the rest of their lives. Stupid sluts ignoring the risks.

No, I didn't want one like that.

Her previous owner, Lou, was a good friend of mine, we had worked together on a few deals and did business well together. He didn't really own her, he just owned the faction of the market she belonged to. When I first laid my eyes on her, I was so surprised at the looks of her. She wasn't like the others. She wasn't tan, wearing makeup, putting herself out. Lou told me that she had never gotten plastic surgery before, which immediately heightened my attraction to her. I looked more at the card outside her enclosure.

19 years old.

Blue eyes.

Dark hair.

5'4

112 pounds

Juliet Love Clark.

"Are you interested?" Lou asked. "She's expensive."

I laughed. "Lou, I can handle expensive."

"She's hard to handle." He warned.

"Are you always this non-persuasive with clients?" I asked.

"Only with the ones I like. She's shy as fuck. She didn't talk to me for like three weeks after we got her. Innocent, too."

"Is she a virgin?"

"No, but she's not experienced, either. Rape as a punishment for misbehavior. Nothing consensual yet, I don't think. So she's basically a virgin."

I grinned. "Perfect."

"The other girls, though, they love her to death. Think of her of a daughter or something. So they taught her how to blow and everything else."

"Has she ever tried it?"

"Probably."

I smiled again.

I took another glance up at her. Beautiful. She was wearing a pink, lacy bra set that emphasized her youth, her dark hair down in waves, though it looked tangled and dirty. Maybe it was better that she wasn't wearing makeup, because if she was I knew it would be smeared across her eyes. Her breasts weren't big, but they were noticeable. They fit her small body perfectly, and her legs were long for her height. Beautiful.

She was trying to ignore us, curled up, hugging her knees in a corner and looking out the other side of her cage (which was really the size of a small bedroom, just enclosed with wire fencing) although there was nothing really to look at.

"Hey," Lou called. "Girl!"

She didn't move.

"Hey!" He called again. "What are you, deft?"

She reluctantly turned around.

He motioned for her to come.

She stood and walked closer, slowly, her eyes on the ground. Before she reached us, she looked back longingly at her corner.

"This is Clark." Lou introduced. "He's thinking of becoming your master."

She still kept her gaze down, although now she might have been looking at my feet instead of hers.

"She doesn't talk much." Lou shrugged. "Do you want to go in?"

I nodded and he opened the gate.

"What's your name?" I asked her as we both sat on her concrete bench.

She didn't respond, just shifted her shoulders.

"I'm Clark." I said.

She smiled weakly, still not looking at me.

I smiled too, and took her chin in my hand, tilting it up to my face.

"You're pretty when you smile." I told her.

She blushed and tried to hide her face. Due to her lack of clothing, I could see the blush travel down...

"And you blush, too."

She was clearly embarrassed. I liked that. There weren't many girls these days that were humble or bashful. Especially not ones that looked like her.

"Look at me." I told her.

She lifted her eyes to mine. I released my grip on her chin, but she still looked at me.

"Would you like to go home with me?" I asked.

She didn't answer and looked back down.

"Can you even talk?"

She waited a second before looking back up at me.

"For how long?" She asked, a slight southern accent in her voice.

I grinned wide. "We'll have to see."

Ah, memories.

That was nearly three weeks ago and probably the best day I've had in years. When I took her home, I learned she was even shyer than I thought. She would blush even when I reached out to hold her hand. She was my girlfriend of sorts now, at least that's what I told people at work in case they ever saw her if they came to the house. Besides, I've been needing someone to take to events. And, as far as they know, she's twenty one. She just looks young.

"But...why?" She asked me, squirming as I tied her ankles to the legs of the chair.

"Because I want to see how you like to touch yourself."

Her blush was furious. It was so fun to embarrass her like this. She hated when I forced pleasure on her, hated being vulnerable. What a shame for her, because her modesty was what was turning me on.

She wasn't making any movements, but her nipples were hard and her pussy was wet. I knew that was because I've been making her take aphrodisiac pills every morning...and night...and the middle of the day since she got here. But I liked to think it was because this was turning her on as much as it turned me on. After all those pills, she needed to orgasm badly. But that just embarrassed her more, especially when I wouldn't let her, or made her beg for it.

"Do you want me to help you?" I whispered setting my hand on her bare thigh and leaning towards her from my chair right across from her.

She bit her lip and glanced out the window again, the nodded.

I smiled. "I'll do it if you ask me nicely."

She gave me a look of petulance. I gently rubbed my thumb across her slit, so lightly I could barely feel it. But it wasn't the same for her.

She broke. "Please master, can you touch me?"

"Touch you where?" I asked, letting my finger trail down her slit again.

She whimpered. "My center."

"That's not the word for it."

She covered her face with her hands. "My pussy." A muffled voice said.

I took her hands. "Don't cover your face. You're beautiful."

I started to touch her slowly, teasing her. I ran my hand across her pussy like I was petting a kitten until she started whining. I spread her lips apart and lightly pressed on her clit.

"Please." She begged. She's never begged me without me telling her to before.

Surprised, I leaned in and kissed her as I rubbed her pussy like I knew she wanted me to. When I stuck a finger in her, she was so relieved she kissed me back. Or that could have just been because she didn't want me to hear her whine. I wanted to make her cum then, just so she'd know that good things happen when she kisses me back. But I told her I'd make her touch herself, and that's what I'd do.

I pulled my hand away when I felt her muscles tense. She looked up at me, eyes hazy and confused.

"Have your little fingers ever gotten you off before?" I asked her.

She shook her head.

"Maybe you've just never been close enough."

"Master..." She bucked her hips.

"If you want to cum, you have to do it yourself." I said, and she knew I wasn't kidding this time.

She reached her hand down and started to rub circles on her clit, trying not to moan.

"Tell me when you're close." I ordered.

Her hips started to buck as she grinded against her hand, her breathing got heavier. I watched closely as she pushed a finger into herself, then pulled it out and rubbed her juices back across her clit, which was apparently a lot more sensitive than I had thought. She kept making these cute little gasps and sighs, trying to hold in all of her noises like she was ashamed.

"Master, I'm almost there." She cut herself off with a groan.

"Cum," I said, and kissed her as she finished herself. I rubbed her nipples and she was nearly crying. I had forgotten that I hadn't let her come in a week. I should have made it more extravagant.

"Did that feel good?" I asked.

She nodded, breathless.

It was dark now, and I untied her and led her to the bed.

"I'll spend the night with you, if you want." I offered.

She shook her head as she cuddled into a pillow like she should have been cuddling into me.

A bit of rage boiled in my stomach. I was so good to her. I never beat her not expectantly. I didn't starve her. And she was such a good trophy, behaved so well in public. She's lucky I take her out; most owners don't. She has her own room, never has to sleep in the playroom or with me in my bed if she doesn't want to. She has her own clothes, although she can never wear them unless we're in public. I loved her, even though I didn't really know her. And I know it hasn't been long, but she was supposed to love me, too. I knew she wanted to please me. But I didn't buy her just for sex. There had only been a few days where I had let my real inner sadist shine through, physically instead of just mentally. I had always warned her.

"Tomorrow won't be easy for you." I told her, biting back coldness as I sat down on her bed and stroked her hair.

She glanced up at me, sleepy, child-like eyes.

"You're not going to enjoy it, but it won't be for you."

She nodded.

I frowned, wanting to watch her squirm. "I'm really going to test your pain tolerance, and I'm going to push you. It's not going to be consensual. You're really going to hate me."

"I don't hate you." She said.

I smiled, my frustration disappearing. "I love you, Juliet."

I didn't expect her to say it back, and she didn't. I kissed her forehead and left the room.

*****

A.N. NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE DARKER, BUT STILL CUTE.