Tee and Me

By Barnabus

Started 2/17/04

Finished: 10/22/04

(M/F, romance, fairy tale (but heterosexual, to be sure!), Tinker Bell)

SUBJECT: I met a small, cute blond at a funeral and took her to my hotel. Boy, was I surprised! It changed my life. It really changed my life.

WARNING:

This is an adult 'romance' story, containing sensitive material of a sexual nature, including graphic descriptions of consensual, "vanilla" sex. If you find such material offensive or are underage, do not read further, but please bypass this story for one more suitable for you.

It is my belief that Tinker Bell and Peter Pan, as created by J. M. Barrie, are currently in public domain. If, however, there is a copyright in existence somewhere, this work intends no infringement. This is a work of fan-fiction. This story is written for enjoyment and entertainment purposes only, and no commercial profit is expected to be made from it. It may be copied for personal use or for posting on other sites, provided the sites are free sites (and I am given credit for the work) . . . it may NOT be posted on any site that requires a "membership fee" of any kind. Posting is permitted on an "Adultcheck" type site (which might cost a few dollars a year for access to many sites) but not on an "Adultcheck Gold" site, which requires much more money.

Like most stories of this ilk, at the end of the story (unless there is a sequel), the characters are magically returned to their original condition, undamaged, unharmed, and unchanged in any way with no memory of the events that have taken place. . . It is as if the story had never happened, because, after all, it never really did.

Birth control is not used in this story (unless you consider Tinker Bell's 'magic' to be birth control) largely because the 'hero' (me) is too crass and selfish to consider it. But, of course, in 'real life' every reasonable adult should know that he or she should behave responsibly when participating in sexual activities and wish to avoid unwanted conception and the spread of disease.

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I appreciate your comments, both positive and negative.

Feedback is welcome at barnabus329@hotmail.com.

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SOME NOTES ABOUT TINKER BELL:

My father read Peter Pan, by J. M. Barrie, to my brother and me when I was quite small. I still remember the question "Do you believe in fairies?" and I eagerly clapped my small hands valiantly to save the little fairy's life!

Then Walt Disney came along, and Tinker Bell became a sweet, thin, cute little pixie that always assumed a dancer's pose as she flashed across the screen in her delightful green costume.

Then, along came the movie, Pan. Julia Roberts portrayed a very different fairy, who at one point, used her magic to assume 'normal, human' size, implying that she wanted the grown-up Peter Pan to consider her a 'grown-up woman'. Of course, Robin William's Peter Pan was much too dense to think of her as anything other than a 4-inch tall fairy.

Recently, I re-read the original book by Mr. Barrie. Contrary to my memory, Tinker Bell was a relatively minor character in the book, and she exhibited many un-attractive characteristics. Early in the book, she continuously pinched Wendy and pulled Wendy's hair as an expression of jealousy. When she got angry, she 'locked herself' in her room and pouted. She was generally malicious, self-centered, caring for nothing except Peter and herself. In short, Tinker Bell was really a royal pain who's only redeeming act was to drink the poison meant for Peter! (I wonder how a 4 inch tall fairy could possibly drink a full 8-ounce glass of medicine . . . she must have been so bloated that it's no wonder she was on death's door.)

My story is set in the late 1970s. That would make Wendy around 80-90 years old. Assuming Peter left Never Land and came to the outside world, he would be old enough to die of normal, natural causes.

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Chapter 1 - Peter's Funeral.

I first saw her at Peter's funeral. Peter had been a friend and neighbor of mine. He was quite a bit older than I, and suffered from ill health. (I suspected all of his ailments were stress related . . . he never handled stress very well.) On lonely nights, we would get together for a beer and spend the evening talking. When he died, his aunt Wendy flew his body back to London for burial, and I volunteered to 'accompany' the casket and to attend my friend's funeral.

The funeral was like any other funeral, and at the reception afterward, friends told stories about Peter. It's always amazing how everyone seems to have a story about the deceased! Aunt Wendy told some stories about Peter, and how she had first met him when she was young, barely in her teens. The story seemed so real that it wasn't until much later that I realized that Wendy must have been at least twenty years older than Peter. And if she was, how could she have met Peter when she was in her teens?

Somehow, I noticed a small blond with straight hair and a pixie face among the group of mourners. She was less than five feet tall, probably weighing around 90 pounds, and cute as a button! She wore a simple red-ish dress that buttoned down the front and had a thin fabric belt cinching her waist. The skirt settled just at her knees. She appeared to be barelegged and wore sensible flat shoes. She had been introduced as 'Tee', just 'Tee'. That seemed like funny name, and I figured it must be short for something else. But in any case, she was tiny, extremely well proportioned, cute, and the more I looked at her, the sexier she became. As the formal reception degenerated into an informal gathering, I moved in and began talking to her.

Tee seemed distracted and her comments showed that she was still thinking about Peter as we sipped the non-alcoholic punch. Finally, I moved beside her and grasped her arm, and whispered an invitation to come to my hotel room and have a drink.

My bold approach seemed to startle her and she stared down at my hand grasping her arm.

She looked at me with those big, blue, innocent eyes and asked, "Are you capturing me?"

That was a strange way to react to a proposition, almost as if she was playing some sort of game, so I responded, "Yeah, I guess I am."

"How silly of me to allow myself to be captured so easily." She responded, making absolutely no effort to pull away. "I was so engrossed thinking about Peter that I wasn't paying attention. Are you claiming me as your own?"

I have propositioned women in the past, but this was the first time anyone reacted the way she did. Maybe she was playing out some sort of fantasy. But that was OK with me. But if she wanted to play, I figured I could play, too.

"Tell you what," I said, squeezing her arm, possessively, "why don't you come to my hotel room and I will claim you. All of you!"

Again, she looks at my hand grasping her arm. "As long as I am your prisoner, I must go wherever you tell me."

Okay, I thought. Let's see if we can settle on the rules of this game. I asked, "And what do I have to do to keep you my prisoner?"

"As long as you don't release me, I remain your prisoner"

"Are you saying that if I let go of your arm, you won't come with me?"

"Of course not. Why would I?"

Chapter 2 - At my hotel

So, I kept hold of her arm as I led her to the limousine aunt Wendy had provided and we rode back to my hotel. The game we were playing was pleasant and I kept hold of her arm. It was a little awkward climbing in and out of the limo without releasing her, but I managed. We took the elevator, or lift, upstairs to my room, and I was careful to maintain my grip on her arm. Once in my room, I led her directly to the night stand and took out a pair of handcuffs I had brought, 'just in case'. To be honest, I was getting tired of constantly having to keep hold of her arm.

"If I handcuff you to my wrist, do you still remain my prisoner."

"Of course. If I am chained to you I cannot escape, can I?" There was absolutely nothing seductive about the way she talked! She was not giving any indication of a come-on. Everything she said was spoken as if this was the natural course of events, and everyone should know it. I clipped a handcuff over her wrist snugly and then clipped the other over my own wrist.

"Now, even if I let go of your arm, you're still my prisoner, right?"

She nodded. "But now that we are away from everyone else," she said, "and no one else will be able to see our magic, what is it you want me to do?"

Mmmmm. Magic! Yes, maybe we would make some magic tonight if everything went as I wanted it to!

"Isn't it obvious what I want you to do? A . . . girl . . .with your looks . . . "

Well, it wasn't obvious to her! "No, I have no idea what you want me to do for you. Money? Travel? Tell me what you want from me. Since you have captured me, I must give you whatever you ask. Now, what do you want from me?"

This was too easy. But I was getting nervous. I certainly didn't want her to have her screaming rape or making any kind of disturbance. She couldn't possibly be as innocent and naive as she seemed.

"Let's start with your tits," I said, and suddenly, I realized how crude that must have sounded.

But, Tee didn't react to my crude approach. In fact, at first, Tee didn't understand the word. Finally it registered, "My teats?" Her eyes dropped to the front of her dress. "What about my teats?"

"I want to feel it," I said, deciding to push the envelope a bit.

"I can't guess why, but here it is." With absolute innocence, she raised my free hand to her chest and pressed it against her. I was dumbfounded as I stroked her. There were obviously a couple of layers of material covering her, but she wasn't wearing a bra! She gave me a minute to fondle her before she said, "If that all you wish with me, you can release me now and I can return home."

"I don't think so," I responded. I wasn't sure how far she'd let me go, but she wasn't making any attempt to break away from me, so I pressed a little farther. "I think I want to feel your bare tit!"

She accepted my request. Her attitude seemed to be that she must not have understood me correctly before, so she artlessly unbuttoned her dress down the front and led my hand inside. There was a gauzy material underneath and it was a little more complicated since she had to lead my way through the gauze, but in moments, there was the distinct touch of warm, bare flesh under my hand. I easily captured her nipple between my thumb and forefinger and began rolling it. Tee looked at my hand moving underneath her dress and smiled at me. "That feels nice! It's been a long time since anyone did that to me. It feels good!"

Then, suddenly, she was back to business. "Now if that's all you want from me," she said, "please release me so I can be on my way."

This game was fun, but I was getting annoyed at her constant requests to be let go. "I'll let you go when I'm ready, and not before." My voice was sharper than I intended, and she almost cringed before my words.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do anything wrong," She whimpered, apologetically. "But you still haven't told me what you want me to do. If you simply tell me what you want, I can grant your wish and then you will give me back my freedom."

Another request for freedom! But still, she was doing everything I asked and never giving any resistance or making any actual attempt to escape. I was growing hot and impatient.

"All right, the next thing I want, but it's not the last thing I'll want, is for you to take off that dress."

Artlessly, without comment or resistance, she stepped out of her shoes and opened the remaining buttons of her dress and slipped out of it until the only part that was still on her was the part held in place by the handcuff. I expected her to be wearing Victoria Secret underwear, or something like that, but I was dead wrong. Underneath the dress, she was wearing a simple earth-green . . . garment of a gauze type material, cinched at the waist. There was a short skirt coming to mid-thighs, and short sleeves held her top in place. She wore no stockings, no shoes. Her costume might have been a Greek toga or something from a fairy tale in its utter simplicity. As I looked at it, it seemed that she was exquisitely gowned in a skeleton leaf. She was a tiny girl, and the low, square cut bodice showed off her figure to its best advantage

"Now take that off," I said, referring to her costume. She was a little surprised at this, but again, she offering no objection or resistance and after only a moment's hesitation, she slipped the sleeves off of her shoulders, loosened the cinch around her waist and allowed her costume to slide to the floor, still restricted by the handcuff on her wrist. To my surprise, she had no underwear beneath her costume!

Her body was flawless! Small, small boned, almost tiny, no more than 5 feet tall and couldn't have weighed more than 80 to 100 pounds, but she was not anorexic or boulimic. On the contrary, she was filled out like a dream! Her breasts, although small, were absolute perfection, pert, attentive, standing straight out, nipples exactly at the end. Her waist looked so narrow I could put my hands around it, and she had narrow, youthful hips. Indeed, her flaring hips were an artist's concept of perfection. There was just the trace of hair where her (relatively) long legs joined her body.

Her face looked like she was maybe 25 or 30 years old, but her breasts looked like the new blossoms of a young teenager. And her bottom had the tight shape of a pre-pubescent child. She seemed so innocent, and yet so knowing. She was compliant and yet asserted a true independence far beyond that of a typical teenager.

Having completed my last request, she stood there waiting. There was absolutely no look of either anticipation or fear.

Chapter 3 - The mating ritual

I had no reason to suspect that she was not of 'legal' age, but the ripeness and freshness of her body just seemed too perfect to belong to a mature woman. I had to ask:

"Are you over sixteen?" I asked, my eyes narrowing.

"Sixteen what?" she asked with eyes like saucers.

"How old are you?" I demanded. "Are you over twenty-one years old?"

She laughed out loud and I would swear that her laughter sounded like the tinkle of a wind chime. "Of course I am." She laughed again. "It's been centuries since I was twenty-one years old!"

I considered asking her for proof of age, but the sight of this unclothed nymphet before me, was enough to distract a saint.

"Take off my clothes!" I ordered. She had obeyed so far. Would she continue as we moved closer to the moment of truth?

Her eyes widened at this order. Then she frowned. "Is this some sort of mating ritual you are starting with me, because . . ."

"No, it ain't no mating ritual, " I interrupted feeling myself getting harder by the minute as she stood there before me totally naked, without affectation, without modestly, without any self-consciousness. "Take off my clothes!"

She obeyed, although she obviously lacked experienced in this area. She had to figure out how to untie my necktie, unbutton the shirt, and she was surprised to find buttons at the sleeves also. The belt and zipper of my pants almost caused her to panic with confusion, and she was uncertain about how to untie my shoelaces. Finally, she pulled down my boxers, and stared at my erect member for a long time.

"I'm afraid you're planning . . ." she started,

"You know damn well what I'm planning, now get on that bed over there!" I demanded.

"I don't think you know what' you're doing . . ." she started again as she sat on the bed.

"I know that the next thing you're gonna do is give me a blowjob, " I stated moving in front of her, my penis close to her mouth.

The term confused her. "A blo. . . . . I don't know what that is."

"Just open your mouth, take it in your mouth and close your mouth around me, but don't even think of biting me!"

She started to obey, then hesitated and asked, "Then do I start blowing on you?"

I shook my head and slipped my penis into her mouth. And she sat there staring at me waiting further instructions. After a moment of waiting, I had to tell this dumb broad, "Suck, honey, suck! Blow is just a figure of speech!" I ordered, and she obeyed.

She began a gentle sucking action. As she sucked, I began pumping in and out of her mouth. I don't think she had ever done this before, or even imagined it, but she followed every instruction exactly and the results weren't too bad. As I started to feel my balls tightening, I told her to stop and pulled out from her mouth. She still had that perpetual confused look on her face. I told her to lie back on the bed and she immediately reclined on her back, bending her knees to cover herself.

Again, she tried to speak, as I lay beside her, running my hands over her perfect breasts and seeking her out. "I think you had better stop," she said. You don't know what you're doing or what will. . . "

"You and I both know what I'm doing," I found myself almost snarling, impatiently at her as I spread her legs and ran my finger along her lips. "Damn, but you're dry!"

"Do you wish more moisture?"

"Of course, I want more moisture! Who wouldn't . . ." and immediately I felt her lubricating beneath my fingers, almost as if she her body were responding at will to my order.

"Please stop!" she whimpered. I could see a conflict forming between her brain which obviously was trying to find a way to say no, and her body, which seemed to be preparing itself for sex with a vengeance. "What you are doing will have dreadful consequence if . . . ."

"Dreadful consequences?" I demanded, "What do you mean? Are you on the pill or not?"

"The pill . . . I don't understand."

Sliding between her knees, I demanded, "Are you likely to get pregnant?" At this point, I didn't really care! I was going to screw her regardless of her answer.

Again her eyes widened as she found herself being spread beneath me. "Do you want me to get pregnant?"

"Hell, no!" I spouted. Settling between her thighs.

"Then my magic will keep me from getting pregnant if you continue. But you don't understand what you're doing!"

I slipped the head of my penis between her now gushing lips. "I know well enough what I'm doing " and I pressed into her. Man, she held me like an alpaca lined glove, but warm, moist, and oh, so tight!

She tilted her head back and gave a long sigh. "I haven't felt that in a long time," she gasped.

"Yeah,' I rasped out as I withdrew an inch to spread her juices around. "That's what you said." She could say anything, it didn't matter to me. "How long?" I grunted and hilted myself inside her. She was great! I started thrusting, hard!

"Over . . . four hundred . . . years," she responded, beginning to grunt in time with my thrusts. "But you mustn't plant your seed in me." She could say anything she wanted, I was beyond caring! "If you do, I will be your slave and will have to protect you for the rest of your life! Please stop!"

Yeah, Sure! Just like that! Just roll off and climb into a cold shower. Not likely!

"My slave, huh? Well, slave, you can start by pumping back into me." I grunted. "Nobody likes making it with a zombie!" I pinched her nipple and gave it a vicious twist. "So start fucking me back!" She cringed at my abuse of her nipple, but immediately her hips began rising to meet me. I could see that she had tears flowing from her eyes, even though she was pouring out juices as we pounded into each other.

"You don't know what it will be like to have me as a slave. It's not what you think. Please stop! Don't do this!" She could feel me tensing up. "This is your last chance to escape. Stop now! Pleeeeeeeaaaaase!"

I didn't stop, and almost immediately, I climaxed pouring what felt like buckets of cum into this tiny pixie. As she felt me pulsing in her, she started a climax of her own, starting with some gasped, "Oh . . . .oh . . . " and her orgasm seemed to multiply exponentially with each stream of jism I pumped into her until after only a few moments, she was experiencing the wildest climax I have ever encountered in any woman, pounding against me, actually lifting the two of us off the bed, screaming and panting, almost howling as she clamped onto me again and again. Her climax continued long after I had reached my limit and I simply enjoyed her slamming around beneath me. Maybe this was her first orgasm in four hundred years, and boy was she making up for lost time!

Chapter 4 - "Afterglow"

We lay in a tangled heap, both gasping as our breathing and heart rates began to return to normal. I was still inside of her, slowly shrinking. It pleased me that she wasn't asking me to stop! Or demanding that I pull out or get off of her. Maybe since she had received the old joystick, she was content to just lie there soaking up my jism. Or maybe it was a guilt thing, where she thought she had to say 'stop' as long as she could. But now that she'd been taken, she didn't have to fight anymore, but could simply enjoy it! I didn't know, and I didn't care. Eventually, she gave a small moan as I slipped out of her. But she still simply lay there, a small diminutive body almost buried beneath my bulk.

I rolled off and suddenly remembered the handcuffs. Our wrists were now joined together across our bodies, and our clothes were still hanging from the handcuffs.

I was annoyed by our clothes that were captured by the handcuffs between us. Somehow I was able to reach the key in the dresser drawer. I handed her the key, then grasped her wrist.

"Okay," I said, "while I hold your wrist, then you can unlock the cuff and get rid of the clothes. Then fasten the cuff back into place."

I had to show her how the key worked on the lock. Then she began to comply, but she added. "You don't need to chain me to you any longer. I cannot escape from you."

"Why!"

She re-fastened the handcuff around my wrist again and answered, "Because you've claimed me. I am your slave." (She spoke as if explaining an obvious truth to a small child).

I smiled. It would be fun having my own personal slave. At least until I grew tired of her! She could clean, fuck, cook, fuck, do the laundry and . . . . did I say fuck? Well, I'd already had her once, so I decided to test the waters and see what happened. She had said she couldn't escape, so unlocked the handcuffs and removed them from our wrists, releasing her, half expecting her to bolt for the doorway.

She just lay there on the bed, making no effort to get up or leave. Damn! But she looked sexy there lying on her back her tiny body almost shimmering in the light, her breasts pointing upward. (They had only flattened a tiny bit when she was on her back.)

I reached out and caressed her breast, circling her nipple with my finger. I felt a small reaction from her, but she didn't pull away or try to leave. By the same token, she didn't come rolling into my arms either.

I let my hand slide down to her pubis and began caressing her mons. She looked at me with a puzzled expression.

"Do you want to plant your seed in me again?" she asked incredulously. I smirked and answered, "Yeah, that's the general idea!"

"You don't have to," she responded. "You've already claimed me. Why would you want to do it again?"

"Because I like to."

She raised her eyebrows and pondered for a moment. Then her expression changed. "Are you one who enjoys sex simply for sex's sake, is that it?"

"You're right the first time!" I responded rolling toward her.

She nodded her head. "Okay." Just like that!

Then, suddenly, she made an unexpected request. "Before you do, it is extremely tiring for me to stay in this form. Would you give me a few minutes to change back so I can rest? Then I will return and do as you wish!"

So she wanted a break! Fine with me. Maybe she'd just take the opportunity to run off and I'd never see her again. Well, that was OK. It would be nice to have a hot and cold running slave of my very own, but even if she took off now, she still had been one hell of a fuck! And since she had come to my room without offering any resistance and never had tried to pull away from me and she hadn't actually said no or said she didn't want to or told me to stop (well, that was almost true), I figured that she wouldn't be able to bring any kind of rape charge against me.

So I nodded. "Sure, take a break! Go ahead and change if you want." She hadn't brought any clothes with her so I didn't know how she would change her clothes, but she said she wanted to change, so why not?

Chapter 5 - The change

Then, suddenly, she was gone! She simply wasn't there, but there was a flash of light, probably a thousand times brighter than a candle flitting around the room faster than the eye could follow, making a tinkling sound like a wind chime everywhere it went. The light seemed to have insatiable curiosity! It poked into the corners, looked in drawers, closets, under tables, faster than it can be described. Then suddenly it flashed back to the bed where she had been a few moments before where suddenly the flashing light stopped. And there she was, kneeling on the bed beside me looking as saucy as ever! She was still naked.

But she was no bigger than my hand, maybe four inches tall! She was still glowing, and she had wings! I realized that what had looked like a flashing of light was simply her flashing around so quickly. Again I heard the tinkling sound and realized she was talking.

Not knowing what else to do, I said, "If you're talking to me, I can't understand what you're saying."

She gave me an exasperated look and spoke again, more slowly, and I was barely able to make out her words. "I just said, if feels good to get back to my own size. I've been your size ever since before the funeral, and that takes a lot of energy!"

"Wh . . . wh . . . what . . . are . . . you"?" I stammered out.

"I'm a fairy, silly! I thought everyone knew the story. I came for Peter's funeral. I'm Tinker Bell!"

"A fairy?"

"Of course! Don't I look like a fairy?"

Well, yes, she did! She could change size and shape and fly, and had wings (at least when she was small).

"But I didn't think . . . ." And before I could get another word out she had flashed to my face and clamped her tiny hand over my mouth!

"Don't say it!" She begged. "You've seen me! You know I exist. You have to believe in fairies! You have to believe in me! You do, don't you!"

Her hands were still over my lips, so I simply nodded my head. And she backed off her wings fluttering and hovering like a humming bird.

"Whenever someone says they don't believe in fairies, a fairy dies! You have claimed me! I am your slave for as long as you . . . we . . . live."

She slowly settled down to her kneeling position on the bed beside me before she continued. "If you stop believing in me, or if you even say that you don't believe in fairies, my light will go out and I will die!"

There was such solemness in her voice that I had to say, "I believe in fairies . . . Uh . . . Tinker Bell . . . and I will always believe in you!" I felt damn silly with these words coming out of my mouth, speaking to a 4 inch tall sprite, but her face became absolutely radiant and her light became so strong she positively glowed.

And almost instantaneously, she grew to her 'full' size again, still beaming at me.

"I thought Tinker Bell was . . . Peter Pan's fairy," I asked.

Tee immediately looked sad and her light noticeably dimmed. "I was. Until Peter died."

Realization flashed over me. I had attended the funeral of a friend of mine. His name had been Peter. His aunt had arranged for the funeral and the burial. Her name was Wendy! Peter had told adventure stories about his youth which no one took seriously. But was it possible that he was really Peter Pan, and that the book about him was true?

"You said you wished to enjoy sex with me again," she said, as if simply reciting facts. "Would you like to do it now?"

After all of the incredible things I had experienced during the past few minutes, I was limp as a noodle, but seeing her there, fully-grown to her full 4' 10", and naked in front of me caused a stirring in my loins.

"Yes, I would," I answered, and continued hesitantly, "but . . . "

"Is there something you want?" she asked.

I dropped my eyes, a little embarrassed. "I saw the movie about Peter Pan. Julia Roberts played Tinker Bell." I raised my eyes to hers. "Maybe you could . . . put on some make up or something so you'd look a little more like Julia Roberts?"

"You want me to look like Julia Roberts?" she asked with those totally innocent eyes, the absolutely unaffected voice

Sheepishly I nodded. I knew that this was not the sort of thing you asked a new lover, especially on the first night of your 'involvement'. But I had 'had the hots' for Julia Roberts for years! And now, here was the 'real, live' Tinker Bell kneeling before me. And by her own admission, she was my slave. That meant she had to do whatever I asked, didn't it? It meant she had do obey me.

Before my eyes, she morphed, becoming a diminutive version of Julia Roberts. (Tinker Bell was only 4 feet 10 inches tall, but other than that she looked like an exact . . . well . . . an almost exact copy . . . of a smaller version Julia Roberts.)

I took her face between my hands, and we kissed gently. Then holding her away from me, I let my hand drift down to her breast. It was a different breast than it had been before. After all, this was Julia Robert's breast, not Tinker Bell's. And slowly, we reclined on the bed and I made love with Julia Roberts. It was a totally different experience than it had been earlier. But Tee and I shared a satisfying orgasm together. It was the second of several we had that night.

Chapter 6 - epilog

From that night on, Tinker Bell, or Tee as I called her, remained with me. Everything she had said was true. Since she thought only of me, after her first couple of uncontrollable orgasms, she became obsessed only with my pleasure denying herself any response to our lovemaking. She was surprised when I urged her, or more accurately, gave permission for her to enjoy sex, and she had to force herself to let go. But once she learned what she could do, she really did it!

She told me that I was first man to permit her to enjoy sex. And she loved me for it. And although she always put my pleasure foremost, she also enjoyed her own orgasms.

At first, it was fun having my own personal slave. She was totally devoted to me! She cleaned, cooked, did the laundry, and of course, she fucked! At first, she was surprised that I wanted sex as often as I did, but there was never a question of her refusing me. She would participate in any fantasy I described. She was always responsive and never 'had a headache'. Any position I wanted, she would eagerly and joyfully comply.

There wasn't a jealous bone in her body. We frequently went out together as a couple (with Tee in her 'human form'). If I saw an attractive woman on the street or in a movie, at my request when we were in bed, Tee would change her appearance to match that woman, then eagerly come into my arms.

In short, she fucked like a maniac! Our sex life together was as good as it comes.

However, there is an old saying: If anything appears to be too good to be true, it probably is!

It didn't take me long to realize that, although she was marvelous in bed, in many respects, she was basically a clueless bubblehead. And boring! She was totally submissive, but totally lacking in originality.

Her devotion to me was and is absolute. But this was where some of the things I had not permitted her to say came into play. She is also totally possessive and absolutely protective!

Anything she perceives as a threat, such as sex in a public place, she will flatly refuse. If another woman comes on to me at a party, Tee will consider her a threat and 'protect' me from the perceived threat. "That woman might be an assassin simply waiting to get you alone," Tee would explain. Then Tee will use whatever measures she had to! Generally, Tee starts by suggesting that we leave the presence of the woman she perceives as threatening. If I refuse, then Tee will gently let the other woman know that I belonged to Tee. On one occasion, one woman kept after me. And after escalating her verbal attacks on the poor woman, finally Tee broke her leg.

I didn't realize it then, but the first time I had made love with Tinker Bell, I had unwittingly committed myself to an ongoing monogamous life.

If someone should try to hurt me, Tee will immediately defend me, even if it means injuring the other person. One nigh, when we were walking together, I was confronted by two muggers demanding my cash and threatening 'my lady' if I did not comply. In the end, both of my assailants lay in crumpled heaps, several broken bones each and rolling painfully in the street until the police came to pick them up.

Indeed, Tee's protection is almost smothering, her devotion, utterly cloying.

Gradually, I lost all of my friends. They began leaving because SHE was weird! Or because I 'was acting differently'! A few had exchanged words with Tee and with me, but all fortunately left before Tee got serious with them and began unleashing her magical abilities.

Tee followed me to my job. Although I demanded that she return to her fairy form and hide in the rafters so that no one would see her. She decided almost immediately that it was not safe for me to remain under the employment of my boss. Since he could hire or fire me at will, she perceived that he could or would become a threat to me at some time.

After working my way through several jobs, progressing steadily DOWN the ladder, she finally required that I formulate my own business. And since employees might pose a threat to me, I had to work alone. Ultimately, we moved to a small town and I started a small one-man nighttime office cleaning business. Of course, my income and style of living have suffered drastically!

Then another part of our 'agreement' came out! She was my slave, and she would do anything and everything I asked. If I had asked, she would have provided me with money and with all the things that you get with the proverbial 'three wishes'. But by now, my independence was totally lost, and I decided that what was left of my manhood would be gone if I accepted all of my income from her. Also, it would be rather difficult explaining my income to the Internal Revenue Service, an concept that she never understood. And one thing that I didn't want to happen was for her to decide that an IRS agent was a threat to me!

Through our continual sex, a form of soul bond has developed between us, one that, I suspect, cannot be broken as along as we are both a live. Gradually, I have fallen in love with this bubble headed pixie, and I think she's in love with me. The time will come when I will grow older and die and she will return to her normal 'fairy existence', whatever that is. But in the meantime, she has to protect me, since she belongs to me.

It is somewhat depressing to come to the realization that although I am a young man, I am bound to this bubble-headed pixie, more completely than any marriage contract could ever be. She will be my 'slave' for the rest of my life, and as such, she will rule my life until the day I die.

But still, the sex is good. No, the sex is great! Since I am getting more and better sex than almost any man I know, I really have no right to complain.

I suppose I could end it at any time by simply saying that I don't believe in fairies. That simple statement would cause her light to go out and she would die. But that would be tantamount to murder! And as I said, I have fallen in love with her.

But it sure would be nice to have some friends of my own. And maybe, another woman once in a while, even if it's a whore or a pickup! But that is forbidden me. Life gets pretty lonely when your 'slave' runs your life for you!

But there are benefits to my existence. For example, now that my evening job is done, Tee is urging me to turn off the computer so that we can go to bed. It's still pretty hard to refuse her when she runs her tiny hand over my chest, nuzzles me, and starts curling the hair around my ear.

I guess it's time for me to stop writing and tend to some other duties!

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I appreciate your comments, both positive and negative.

Feedback is welcome at barnabus329@hotmail.com.

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Now what? Is the story ended? Should Tee become a superherioine? Should 'I' become her vulnerable sidekick? Where (if anywhere) should the story go from here? Tee is my slave, to be sure! Does that mean I can rent her out to other men on an hourly or nightly basis? (If I did, would she become their slave also? Or would my claim be superior to theirs? If I died, would she have to work her way through servitude to each of the men in sequence?

(At the moment, I have very little desire to continue this fantasy. But do you think I should?)