The next morning, Emma woke her boyfriend with a blowjob. After they had finished last night, it took her a few minutes to come to her senses, and, by that time, she realized that her little toy was no longer inside her. She knew that he was nearby, but she couldn't really tell where. Once her boyfriend got up to use the bathroom and she felt the toy quickly receding, she realized where he was.

It was only the next morning that she realized how big of a bullet she had dodged. The moment she wrapped her mouth around her boyfriend's dick, she sensed the tiny man trapped underneath his foreskin, right under the head of his penis. If he had been anywhere else, her boyfriend might have flushed him down the toilet without a second thought. She wondered idly if it was an accident or he had managed to hide himself under there on purpose.

Didn't matter now, though. Now it was time to get him back. Her boyfriend was fully erect by the time he actually woke up, and Emma had been able to retrieve the little man from under his foreskin with her tongue. Now, with him planted firmly between her tongue and her boyfriend's cock, she started to bob her head up and down.

She was incredibly turned on by the idea of what she was putting the shrunken man through, and apparently her boyfriend, even the morning after, was pretty excited too. He came in only a few minutes, and she took all of his cum in her mouth, sucking on his dick and drawing the little man to the back of her throat. She grinned, then swallowed.

She lay back down on the bed, swallowing a few more times to ensure that the little man was in her stomach, then slowly started to grow him. She increased his size until she could feel her stomach getting full, and stopped. At that size, her body wouldn't pass him, and he would just hang out in her stomach until she felt like bringing him back up.

After a while, her boyfriend left for work, and she decided it was time to recover the little man. She drank a little bit of water, shrunk him down again, and shoved her fingers down the back of her throat. 

It was not lost on her how close she had come to losing the tiny man. Best-case scenario, he would have been lost down the drain and she'd be out of a lot of money; you couldn't exactly insure an illegal slave against loss or theft. Worse, her boyfriend could have found him. She liked him, but she didn't trust him not to sell her out for a crime like that. She didn't know if there was anyone in her life she could trust that much.

She looked down at the little man, sizing him up a little bit to see him clearer. He was sitting in the sink in a shallow pool of vomit, trying to clear a thin, slimy film of fluid from his eyes. Not a pretty sight, but he looked better than he deserved, given what he had gone through. If there was anyone she could trust, it would be him.

Not now, sure. Now, he'd run at the first chance. He probably longed to get washed down the drain, just for the slim chance of escape it offered. But she could break him, or so she was told. He was intimate with her in a way that nobody could ever be, and he would never have a break from the heat of her flesh or the whims of her drive. For now, even the most routine things for her were torture for him, but, after a while, he would get used to them. And, in time, he would long for her attention, and strive endlessly to make her happy. 

That was an enticing thought. Instead of going back and resetting his memories to give her a fresh new slave, she could go out with him into the world, confident that he would never betray her. She could tell the world that he was her boyfriend, and then she could retreat to her bedroom and use him relentlessly. 

She turned on the faucet to rinse him off, giggling as the sudden torrent of water knocked him down on his ass. She turned it off before it got warm, and scooped him up. "Did you have fun last night?" she asked him, holding him at head height. He didn't meet her eye, his expression fearful and his gaze darting around, trying to take in a world so much larger than he was. "Hey, look at me," she commanded sharply. He cringed, but he did muster up the courage to make eye contact. "I asked you a question. Did you have fun last night?"

The shrunken man's expression was half fear, half disbelief. After a moment, he shook his head. His voice was small, but Emma could barely hear him whisper, "No."

"Aw, I'm sorry to hear that," she said, affecting a look of genuine concern. "Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"

Another pause. He didn't understand what she was up to, but he clearly didn't trust her. "You could let me go," he offered softly.

Emma laughed cheerily, throwing her head back and pressing the tiny man to her breast. "I can't do that, silly," she answered, looking down at him again. "I paid a lot of money for you." She made a show of thinking for a moment, then said, "I'll tell you what I can do."

She spun on her heel, walking back to the bedroom, trying to keep him steady at head height. "I own you now, and that's never going to change. But I don't see a reason why we can't both enjoy this. You just have to prove to me that you deserve it."

She put him gently down on her bed, the bedsheets still unmade and the room still carrying the musky smell of sex. Then, without preamble or explanation, she grew him to his full size. The look of shock was clear on his face, and she could see the indecision behind his eyes. Should he try to make a break for it? Maybe swing a punch at her? Call for help?

She swung her legs over his and pressed up close to his chest, wrapping her arms around his warm, firm body. Her thin pajama shirt was the only layer between them, and her firm nipples pressed against him through the fabric. "Take me," she breathed into his ear. "Show me what you can do."

He was still a bit indecisive, but she could feel him getting hard beneath her crotch. She ground on him a little bit, smearing him with panties still damp from the fluids of the night before. "Don't just be my toy, be my lover."

Eventually, he siezed on the opportunity like she hoped he would. He grabbed her head violently and pushed their lips together. Their tongues wormed together, and Emma let her eyes close, breathing deep of the smell and heat of him, her hips beginning to rock.

After a few minutes, Emma could feel that he was painfully hard. One of his hands worked its way up her shirt, gripping her breast, and she gasped around his tongue. The other hand was down between her legs before she realized it, sliding into the waistband of her panties and across the smooth flesh of her vulva. 

He dipped his middle two fingers inside her, and her gasp was half a moan. Her vagina was still raw from the night before, still wet with fluids that she had never cleaned up. He drew his fingers out and brought them up to her face, sliding his wet fingertips into her mouth. She licked up the warm fluid, gazing at him lustfully and willing him to continue.

He didn't disappoint. He didn't even bother trying to take her panties off. He just slid the crotch to one side and, with only a glance downwards to align himself, pushed his cock slowly inside her.

"Mmmn," she breathed, grabbing his head and pulling his lips back to hers. She could barely breathe fast enough through her nose, sucking in the scent hungrily as he slowly started to thrust. She wrapped her legs around his back, and he responded by clamping both hands on her ass and lifting her bodily into the air.

Her eyes widened in surprise, his cock deep in her pussy, then he jumped down onto the bed, landing directly on top of her while still inside her.

It drove the wind from her lungs, and she parted lips to let out a giggly laugh. What the fuck was that? Did he just bodyslam her? Who does that?

The laugh quickly turned into a moan, though, as he kept going. He would thrust once or twice, pull his cock out and slide it up and down her labia, tickling her clitoris, then shove it back inside her. She loved it, and the pleasure kept building when he stopped pulling out and instead started to massage her clit with his thumb, leaving his other hand fondling at her breast.

She came in about five minutes, and she was obvious about it, letting out a pleasured gasp, fighting for air as ecstasy tightened her entire body. A few thrusts later, he pulled out, and, with a breathy grunt, ejaculated onto the sheets between her legs.

When she finally came down, breathing hard and sweating, she looked down with disgust at the stain on her bed. "What is that?" she demanded. "Are you trying to leave evidence behind? You don't want to sit in a vagina full of your own cum, is that it?"

She rolled her eyes and froze his motion, and he collapsed on top of her. With a groan of effort, God he was heavy, she pushed him off her and stood up, straightening her shirt and her panties. "Now I have to wash my sheets," she said. "I told you, I own you, and nobody is going to 'rescue' you." She let out a shaky, satisifed sigh. "You know, for a moment, I thought you were enjoying yourself."

She turned away, stopped, then went back and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips. "That was fun, though," she told him quietly. "We should do this again sometime."