Imagine... "Mine." (Romance with a dominant twist)

Imagine... We have been in love now for over a year. Tonight you are fertile, and I will seed you. In a few months I will trace the swelling curves of your belly as I declare my love for you and our child, but tonight, as I promised, I will make love with you like the first time...

First, there was the stripping. I commanded you to be silent unless answering a question with "Yes, Sir" or "No, Sir." Then I watched as you stripped, telling you what to take off, and how. One piece at a time. Your clothing first and then, when you thought you were naked, your earrings, watch, and bracelet. Yes, you felt uncomfortable, standing naked before me, in full view, in the middle of the room. I suppose the kiss was because you had to do *something*. I understood your discomfort, yet I had not commanded a kiss, and so I quickly turned you and swatted one cheek sharply five times. If it had been another night I would have swatted your other cheek for the coy smile that crossed your face, but not this first night. You were feeling my power, and that was enough.

To start your training was the inspection. First you learned to always (unless told otherwise) keep your breasts fully exposed. If standing, that meant to clasp your hands behind your neck, elbows back, chin up. So posed, I started with a shoulder blade. I touched you, taking time, learning the curves of your back. Looking, touching, smelling, and tasting you. I even paused, my arm encircling you, to listen to your heart beating. Expanding my knowledge of your body gradually I moved to your armpit, checking your scent and your grooming, then down your side. All the while my left hand steadied you as my right explored. You were made to turn, to open yourself, to submit to the most intimate scrutiny. It took a long time, this inspection. Every curve caressed, every crease prodded, every fold of flesh tugged at and moved. Made to hang them, your breasts were jiggled and lightly slapped. The pout of your belly, the true seat of feminine fertility, held lovingly. Even your toes and fingers were carefully moved, one at a time. And when I was done I looked into your eyes and stated our truth: "Mine."

*****

My handling rougher, stronger, more forceful now than it was that first night, I paw your chest like before. Grabbing a breast I squeeze just enough and hold... "Mine."

Suddenly I turn you and push you over my knee. My left pins you down as my right slides over your ass, lightly stroking, threatening a spanking. "Mine."

I bring you back to standing and, reaching between your legs, I grasp your lips roughly and pull until your hips follow. "Mine."

I push you to kneeling and open my pants, releasing my erection. I grab you by the hair and you understand that I control your head and your mouth. Slowly, inexorably, I move to your mouth and you open, ready to allow penetration to the throat. Entering slowly, I revel in watching you allow this penetration, made difficult by the combination of your tiny mouth and my swollen organ. I make you hold me deep in your mouth. Short, pulsating strokes, with your arms held back, powerless, for several minutes. I love watching you work to relax your throat, to allow the depth of penetration that is a test of your submission, work to hold your teeth off me while your lips encircle. I love to watch your struggle with the submission of it. I control the depth. I control everything. (Your mouth is) "Mine."

Pushing your chest down I move to your wide open hips, squatting before your most precious gift. Penetrating, I slowly fill you, working my way in. I fill you completely. You have never felt so mounted and you are soaked with the forbidden pleasure of it. Hips firmly held I pull and thrust simultaneously. Stretched beyond full, guttural panting escapes you. "Mine." Withdrawing slightly, I ram hard cock into your depths again. "Mine." Again and again. "Mine... Mine." Staying deep, grinding and stretching you, I make sure you feel the power behind the fucking. You raise your shoulders and I grab your neck, pushing you down again, holding you there. Heat builds. "Mine." Strokes lengthen. "Mine." Desperate movements. "Mine." Pounding. "Mine... mine." Wrapping an arm about you, holding you tight. "Mine." Words turn to deep guttural sounds as I slam into you over and over. Your moans are lost in my screams...

That first night I finished in your ass, taking you all three ways, putting you in your place and claiming ownership of every opening. But not tonight. Tonight, you are a garden...

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