Being owned – Part 1

I was lying on the double bed. He had just left. His cum was drying on the sheets and on my body. Feeling a bit sore I had no desire to get up. Later, get up, clean myself and go back to bed. Nothing to do anyway.

So this was my life now. Doing nothing except taking a shower, sleep, eat, get fucked, repeat. Just a few months ago it had been different. Closing my eyes I remembered.

It was a bright summer morning. Birds were singing while I let the sun warm my stiff body. The night hadn’t been that bad. I had found a comfy place in the bushes in this park. Today was one of the better days to live on the streets, I decided as I stretched myself. Maybe I would even be lucky and the nice guy was working in the bakery today. He usually gave me a free coffee and sometimes even food that had turned out too bad to sell.

The feeling of being watched was there again. I had had it over the last week and I turned around. Some guy walking his dog, some kids on the playground and a woman crossing the park. No one seemed to pay me any attention, but the feeling lingered on.

The scene shifted. Green grass became barren ground, the group of trees where I had spent the night rocks, shrubbery. Silence, eerie silence. Slowly I patted my pockets. This was wrong, I knew it. Forcing myself one step, another step, one more I finally stepped out of the memory. Sounds reached my ears again children’s laughter, birdsong. God, I needed a coffee.

Outside the shop I stopped, tried to spot the guys behind the counter. No luck today, two other guys were working. Some coins were still in my pocket. I pulled them out, counted them. A coffee – or a roll. Five pence short of the deal. With a deep sigh I turned around. I would try to get some more money. That was when the men suit approached me. “Ms Ferguson?”

I froze. No one had called me by my name for ages. I didn’t know him. “Yes?” I asked. He smiled, came closer. “I would like to talk to you for a moment. Can I get you a coffee or anything?” He was young. Smart suit, shiny shoes, and I had noticed the Irish accent. “Milk, two sugar please.”

White teeth flashed as he smiled at me. “I get the coffee and then we should go somewhere more private. I have a,” he paused, “ delicate but interesting offer.”

Dumbfounded I just nodded. Thoughts were racing through my head but outwardly I stayed calm. Show no emotions, no weakness, watch your back.

What kind of offer? How did he know my name?

I followed him inside. He ordered two coffees and some rolls as well. As soon as the clerk put the cups on the counter I took mine and went over to the little table to get milk and sugar. My hand trembled just a little as I poured the milk. I spilled some of the sugar as well. He joined me just as I had brushed the spillage away and replaced the lid on my cup.

“Any idea where we can go?” I nodded.