MY BIRTHDAY GIFT

By Charles E. Campbell

   It seemed harmless enough. I guess that what actually I mean to say is: It seemed harmless enough, at the time. But then again, you know what they always say; Hindsight is always 20/20. I was just trying to make my husband's fortieth birthday really special, that's all, just between the two of us, and looking back at the outcome, its quite apparent that I was completely successful in attaining that goal, even if the actual outcome means that I will be paying for it for God knows how long.

    A little background is probably in order right about now. Otherwise there's no way you can fully comprehend the sacrifice I unintentionally ended up making.

   My name is Ellen Davis. I'm 39 years old, have twin boys, 20 years old, named Evan and Jon. My husband Tommy and I have been married 21 years. He's 40 now. We met in high school. We were in the same class, although he's almost a full year older than I am.

We started dating in 9th grade. By our sophomore year, we were going steady. We were having sex by the time I turned sixteen. Got engaged right after graduation. Tommy stayed in town for about six months working at a mom and pop gas station before he enlisted in the Marines.  On his first leave, right out of boot camp, we got married, I got pregnant, and he was shipped to Okinawa.

   After he left the Marines, Tommy settled into steady work as a diesel mechanic out at the local truck stop on the Interstate. We bought a small cape, and raised our kids. Pretty mundane stuff, really.

    Our sex life was great. Always has been, even from when we were just wet behind the ears kids, right on through. By some people's standards, we'd be considered kinky, I guess. We certainly have never lead a vanilla sex life. Whenever either one us wanted to try something different, we would discuss it, feeling each other out, and then decide whether or not to try it.  We had a safe word at the ready, "pink."  I've used it, a lot. So many times I guess, I'm ashamed to say, I've lost count. In fact, thinking back on it, I'd have to say that anytime Tommy wanted to try something new, something different or out of the norm, I'd use my safe word a few times before finally doing what he wanted. More often than not, I'd use it many times, just trying to postpone his request.

   As I've already said, our sex life is really good, and it's outside of what most would call "normal,"  I've given him head in the car, both on the interstate and on local streets. We've had sex in public. I've been in the passenger seat of our car, naked, while Tommy drove us around. We've experimented with light bondage, spanking, and sex toys. We've done some public  flashing, with me wearing a short skirt, no panties, like in Basic Instinct. Done that at the mall, the park, places like that.  One time, I walked naked over the length of a pedestrian bridge that spans over the highway in the next town. Tommy had me undress, then he took my clothes and walked to the other side, forcing me to walk to him to retrieve my things. He did allow me to wear sun glasses and a hat. I think I must have used my safe word repeatedly for a year before I finally acquiesced on that one.

   Anyway, my point in all this is that I wanted to do something truly special for Tommy to celebrate his fortieth. So one night, about four weeks prior to his big day, after he had just cum in my pussy, (I'd never agreed to anal up to that point), we were lying in bed, spooning, when I  just blurted out, "Tommy, I want your birthday to be really special this year. Really special."

   He just murmured, "Hmmmm?"

    "I want to do something for you that we will both remember for the rest of our lives."

    "And what might that be?" he asked, cupping my breasts tenderly.

    "I want to give myself over to you for the day, completely. No safe word allowed, or if I say it, it's not to be respected. You  can do anything with me you want. Anything and everything. Make me do anything you want. No restrictions. I cannot and will not refuse you in any way."

   I felt him hug me close as I spoke.

   "I've though a lot about this," I continued when he didn't respond, "And I think I use my safe word far too much. I want to give myself up to you, knowing in advance that I won't have that safety net to fall back on. All I'll have is my trusting in you. Nothing else. If I use it, and I'm sure I will, it won't count. You are to ignore it, as if we had never agreed to a safe word before."

    Tommy was quiet still, while my heart was racing. I felt his hand slowly slide down from my breast, across my belly, over my hip and into the small of my back, where it rested for a moment. His hand started moving again, continuing it's journey down into the furrow between my buttocks, finally settling on the tightly puckered protective entrance to my rear portal. My body shuddered as I felt one finger circle the forbidden entryway. He whispered in my ear, "You're sure about all this, Ellen?"

   "Yes," I answered quickly. "Yes, I am. I........I know what this means, at least I think I can imagine anyway, but..........but I meant what I said. Yes. I'm sure."

   His hand came up to my breast quickly, leaving the forbidden virgin territory, and he held me in a tight bear hug. "I love you. Thank you."

   Tommy's birthday was still four weeks away. I had wanted to give him ample time to decide what he wanted to do with me, so that was my reasoning with announcing my "gift" so early. He never brought it up during this little waiting period, and I know I certainly didn't either, so our lives were basically in average day to day mode during that time.

   Tommy's birthday fell on a Saturday that year, so it was the Friday night before it  when he said to me, "We're going to have a pretty busy schedule tomorrow, you and I, so I thought we'd go out for dinner tonight to celebrate both my birthday, and your amazing birthday gift. I know it's not my birthday yet, so your gift isn't in effect, technically, but I've laid out the clothes I'd like you to wear. I hope you don't mind." 

     "Of course not," I said. "Let me go shower and change and I'll be ready in twenty minutes." I gave him a kiss on the cheek and headed for the bedroom.

  I took my time in the shower, partly because it felt so relaxing, and partly because I was as nervous as can be about what lay in store for me the next day.

   After toweling off, I stepped into the bedroom and saw what Tommy had laid out on the bed for me to wear out to dinner. At first take, it all looked nice. Elegant even. Sexy for sure. But upon closer inspection, it was immediately evident that my exhibitionist side was going to be pushed pretty far that night.

   Tommy had selected a long sleeve, white, slightly sheer, blouse with buttons down the front. It had a huge loose flopping ruffled collar  that hung from the neck to the bust line. The top button, however, was well below the bust line! He had laid out a black mini skirt made from a spandex like material, so it was form fitting, and would barely conceal my ass. There was no bra or panties on the bed. A pair of black nylon stockings, with a back seam, and a lacy black garter belt finished the ensemble. On the floor at the foot of the bed was a pair of black opened toed stiletto heels, four inches high. A neatly wrapped gift box sat on the bed as well, with a sealed card taped under the elaborate bow.

   I sat on the edge of the bed, my hands shaking slightly, and opened the envelope. "Ellen, my love. I cannot begin to tell you how much I love you. I always have, and always will. You are about to give me the greatest birthday gift I could ever imagine. Yourself. Knowing that I will have absolute control of your destiny is a powerful thing. I want you to know that I fully intend to exploit this power you have given me over you to the fullest. I will make you do things you won't like. I will watch as you experience things that you probably could never have imagined ever being party to. And all the while, the two of us will share in the knowledge that you are doing all of this solely out of love, the most powerful force there is.

   "I can imagine that you are quite nervous about now, but check and see how excited you are as well, touch yourself and how wet your pussy is. I will  give you no inkling, no hints as to what lays in store for you, preferring instead for your fertile imagination to work in overdrive to try and foretell what your impending servitude will require.

   "I'm going to provide you with this one single opportunity to change your mind in all of this. Leave the package sealed, don't open it. Get dressed in your usual attire, and join me in the living room. We'll go out to dinner, just the two of us, no further mention of this will ever be made. But, if you still want to follow through with your special, unselfish gift to me, you are to open the package, follow the instructions you'll find inside, put on the clothes I selected, and meet me in the living room. We will then begin a day that will most definitely be the most memorable and most important in our lives together.

"I Love You, Tommy."

    My right hand had slid down between my legs as I was reading the note, and discovered how right Tommy was about my state of arousal. I was soaked, and a wet spot marked the bed sheets. To say I was filled with trepidation would be literally nonsense. I was scared to death!. My stomach was in knots, slight waves of nausea adding to it all. I felt perspiration slowly trickling from my underarms, I had goose bumps......What had I gotten myself into?

   I had never in my life, nor have I ever in my life since, felt as conflicted as I did at that moment. Tommy had intentionally placed me in the unenviable position of having to make the choice about what was going to happen, and thereby forcing me to either renege on my gift to him, or reaffirm my decision.

   Every cell in my brain told me to renege on my gift. Just get dressed in a revealing top, short skirt, and go out to dinner with him. He would understand I was sure. I mean, I always backed out of things he wanted to do before. He probably expected me to quit anyway. Just cave. What would be so different?   Maybe we could be a little reckless, daring, and give him head in the car, or not wear panties and play a few little exhibitionism games, something along those lines.

   But as my rational and sane side came up with all those same arguments I had visited so many times over the years, something deep within me said, "You promised him. This was your idea from the start, remember, not his. You even announced your gift four weeks ago. What was that for, so you could build him up, and then at the last second dash his plans? Look how wet you are. You want this to happen. You want to give yourself over to him totally. You always have wanted this, but you were too prudish, too self conscious to carry it out. You're a slut, you know it. A whore. And now it's time you confirm that so Tommy know it as well. Quit stalling and put on the clothes he picked for you and then open the box, slut!"

   I felt a tear roll down my cheek as I realized that I had to go through with this. But at the same time, a certain calm swept over me. The goose bumps were gone, as was the nausea and the knot in my stomach. I can say it was a sense of resignation to my fate, actually giving myself up to face what Tommy had in store for me. To show him how deeply I loved him by submitting to anything he wanted. Giving myself over to him would be the greatest gift I could give. I mean, what else could have more deep and lasting meaning, or significance?

   I fastened the garter belt behind my back and then tugged the skin tight spandex skirt up my legs, struggling to get it over my butt. If I wore it so it hid my butt cheeks, then the waistline of the skirt was right below the line of my pubic hair, exposing the tops of the curly russet tufts of hair . And if I pulled it just a half inch above my pubic hair, it exposed the bottom of each ass cheek. I opted for the exposed cheeks.

    The blouse was next. It was beautiful, a chiffon like fabric, but between the sheerness of it,  the low top button, and the lack of a bra, my boobs swung into view with even the slightest motion on my part. Fortunately, I thought, even though my nipples are longer and thicker than most women's are, my areolas are average size, and a light tan color, making them not quite as obvious under the thin material of the blouse.

   Returning to the bed, I sat back down on it, picked up one of the stockings and carefully rolled it up before sliding it up my leg. The ornate lacy top ended at mid-thigh. I followed suit with the other hose and clipped them both to the garters that dangled from the belt, and strapped on the stilettos. Taking a slow deep breath, I opened the box. Inside was a dog collar, wrist and ankle cuffs, all thick black leather, a make-up kit, and two small jewelry boxes. I picked up one of the boxes, flipped open the lid and found a pair of earrings with one inch dangles shaped like a man's erect cock and balls. It didn't take much imagination for me to realize he was going to be advertising my status to any and all that night.

   Picking up the make-up kit, I went and sat at my make-up table, turned on the light, and applied everything in the kit: mascara, eye liner, eye shadow, eyebrow pencil, ruby red lip gloss, and lip liner. When I was made up, and looked at my reflection in the large mirror, I saw an expensive hooker looking back at me. Then I returned and sat on the bed again.

   I put the collar, cuffs, and earrings on and opened the second box. It was a ring, that was an exact replica of the one from The Story of O. Stainless steel, with a small ring hanging from it. It fit the middle finger if my right hand snuggly, but comfortably. No doubts now about what I was going to be for him.

   Standing up, I looked myself over in the full length mirror on the back of our closet door. Teetering precariously on the pencil thin heels, I was stunned as I looked myself over. I looked like  an expensive call girl ready for anything the night held. "You asked for this," I said aloud to my reflection. "Now, go and please your man."

   Slowly and ever so deliberately, I made my way down the wooden staircase, holding on to the banister for dear life, my heels tapping loudly with each step, the high pitched hollow sound announcing my pending arrival for my husband. A quick sigh of relief  when I finally was safely downstairs.

   Turning down the hall, I took the five short steps before stepping into the living room to meet Tommy. My jaw dropped and I made an audible yelp as I saw that Tommy was holding a video camera, filming me as I made my "Grand Entrance."

   Tommy made me stand still in the center of the living room as he slowly walked around me, filming me from every imaginable angle. Then  he set the camera down on the coffee table and walked up to me. Taking my hands in his, he forcibly pushed my hands behind my back and held them there as he kissed me hard, his tongue forcing my mouth open. He probed my mouth until I was gasping for breath, and then he broke the embrace. "I love you, Ellen," he said. He let go of my hands, reached into his back pocket, and pulled out a steel chain dog leash with a black leather strap, which he clipped to the "D" ring in my collar. "From now on, you will neither look me directly in the eyes, nor shall you speak unless given permission, nor will you address me by may name. A slave has no right to such privileges. You shall refer to me from now on as 'My Lord,' 'Sir,' or 'Master.' Understood?"

   "Yes, My Lord," I answered, forcing myself to look downward, rather than into the face I have loved for so many years.

   A quick jerk on the leash started me walking, following Tommy out of the house, and, I assumed, out to the car. But, much to my surprise, the car wasn't in the driveway, his motorcycle was! He expected me to ride on the back of his bike dressed like this!

   "I can't ride on your bike dressed like this," I blurted out! "Everyone will see me!"

   Tommy pulled me forward by the leash and slapped me hard and fast across the face.  Left, right. "Have you forgotten your place slave? Did I  give you permission to speak?"

   "N...no," I replied, dropping my head. My face red and stinging.

   He slapped my face again, even harder this time. "You will do exactly as you are told, cunt!" Another vicious slap to punctuate the repugnant word

    I instantly blanched at that most vile, demeaning, and hated of words. My tongue moved lightly to my tender lip. I tasted blood.

   "You have given yourself over to me of your own free will, or have you already forgotten that little fact?  What you do, or don't do, is my decision to make from now on. It's not yours."

   "Yes, M...master," I whimpered softly, looking down at the ground.

   Tommy swung a leg over the big bike and extended his arm so I could grab it and get on behind him. I felt the mini skirt ride way up, exposing not only both ass cheeks, but my entire panty-less crotch as well.

   (The bike was his absolute pride and joy, having belonged to his late father first. Tom Senior bought the bike new in San Francisco in the spring of '56, right after his final tour of duty with the Marines in Okinawa. The motorcycle had survived many incarnations over the years; stock bike, bobber, chopper, and then finally ending up laying dormant under a tarp for over twenty years, until, on Tom Senior's death bed, he gave it to Tommy. From the day his Dad died, it became his passion, quest really, to restore the bike to it's original 1956 showroom condition. Countless swap meets, internet searches, word of mouth, and newspaper ads over a ten year period finally made Tommy's dream a reality. His Dad's trusty Hog looked and ran like it did when a very proud and broad smiling young Marine rode it home, cross-country in 1956.)

   I have ridden on the back of the old bike many times since he got it all put back together, but that night I felt like a newbie. Sitting on the wide vintage seat, my legs spread far apart, feeling the sensation of the smooth hard leather against my dripping pussy, I held Tommy tight around his waist, leaning into his back, praying no one would notice that I was effectively naked from the waist down in that completely useless, tiniest of skirts.

   Silently I prayed that he wouldn't head into town with me dressed as I was, and seemingly, my prayers were answered, because he turned away from town, and in a matter of minutes, we were traveling on sparsely driven two lane county roads. That didn't mean people didn't notice how undressed I was. Traffic lights, and at the occasional stop or yield signs brought forth a number of horn honks, whistles, and cat calls.

   We rode for about thirty-five minutes or so, before reaching Tommy's intended destination, a sleazy looking truck stop, just off the Interstate. The diner was a real dump, eschewing the business of businessmen, campers, and families in mini-vans, rather content with the steady flow of long haul truckers and the occasional bikers.

   He pulled the bike up in front, and gave me his arm so I could get off.

   "Fix your skirt, slut," he said, as he got off the bike. "Don't want these horny truckers getting the wrong impression." 

   Tears started to cascade from my eyes  as he clipped a metal dog leash to my collar. With the leash he pulled me against him. He kissed away my tears and whispered, " I love you, Ellen. Remember that. Now, be strong, and proud. Pull your shoulders back, keep your head up high, and stick your chest out. I want every eye in this dive fixated on you!"

   As he pushed open the door into the stark florescent lit hole, all eyes turned our way. A tough looking waitress, pencil thin, bottle blond, super short skirt, fishnets, probably pushing 60, said, "Sit wherever you like," as she eyed me quickly, head to toe. Tommy walked me slowly past the long counter, very close to the ogling eyes of the men seated there. I quickly noticed that the old waitress and I were the sole women in the place.

   Tommy picked a booth in the corner, and had me sit with my back to the wall, so that I faced the stares of the truckers.

   "Go to the ladies room," he said, "And when you come back, we'll order."

   I looked around, and spied  the ladies room way down at the opposite end of the diner, forcing me to parade past all those lecherous eyes again. As I stood, Tommy added, "Walk slowly, and give them a good show, slut. Let them see what a whore you are for me." I tried to look away as I made my way past the truckers' leering eyes.

    The women's room was absolutely disgusting. An old rust stained sink, the faucet dripping, no door on the stall, the toilet seat loose and filthy, graffiti adorning all the walls, advertising phone numbers for "good times," and a strong odor I couldn't begin to recognize.

I squatted over the toilet, (no way I was going to sit on that seat!). It was then I noticed there was no toilet paper. I made my way back to Tommy, through the stares of all the truckers.

   "I ordered for us already," Tommy said as I sat down.

   We sat in silence until the waitress brought our meal. After she left, Tommy leaned forward to me and said, "I love you, Ellen. I have always loved you. And I am so happy about this gift you're giving me."

   I started to speak, but he silenced me with a quick dismissive wave of his hand.

   "I haven't given you permission to speak! Just listen, slave.

    "You are going to experience many different things in the next day. Some of them will push you over the edge, past what you might think are our limits. You made your choice. You will not be able to stop any of these things from happening. There is no going back. You and I, individually and collectively will be forever changed from all of this. The one thing that will help you through it all is remembering that I love you., and you love me. It is this love that allows you to give yourself to me. It is this love that allows me to accept the responsibility of using you for my pleasure.

   "Spread your legs, whore, nice and wide so everyone can see."

   "Yes Sir," I replied, slowly opening my previously tightly closed legs.

   "Play with your cunt," he said, loud enough for all ears to hear.

   Keeping my head down, avoiding the rapt eyes of the voyeur truckers, I put my hand to my pussy, and found it saturated with my excitedness.

   "Are you wet, slave," he asked loud again."

   "Yes, Master, I whispered, mortified at what I was doing and how my body was betraying me.

   "I didn't hear you, slave," he admonished me.

   "Yes Master, my pussy is wet," I answered louder.

    I kept playing with my clit, getting really turned on now, knowing that everyone in the diner was watching me engage in this very private act.

   Tommy noticed that my breathing was getting fast and shallow and recognized that an orgasm was rapidly approaching. "Stop, slut," he commanded. "Smell your fingers."

    Hesitantly, I put my reeking fingers to my nose and took in the pungent aroma of my own arousal. "Wipe your hand around your face," came the next directive.

    Obediently, I smeared the wetness over my face.

    "Now,  you can forget your meal, I want you to go back to the ladies room and take off your blouse and skirt.  Stuff them into your purse. You will then walk back to me, naked and proud, showing these people what a filthy whore slut you are."

   My stomach tightened at his order, my head dropped, and tears welled up in my eyes and started down my cheeks. Tommy half stood, leaned over the table lifted my chin and kissed my tears away. "I love you, slave. You love me. I need to have you  prove to yourself that you are my willing and obedient slave, and this will help to prove it to you."

   I didn't answer him. I knew he was right. I just got up, and walked past all the leering eyes as I went back to the ladies room.

   I didn't stop to think about what I was about to do. I just undid my blouse and stepped out of my skirt. As ordered, I stuffed them in my purse, took a deep breath, and pushed open the ladies room door. I knew everyone in the diner was going to see me naked, but I was taken aback that Tommy must have explained what was happening, as all the truckers, and the waitress, were standing around the ladies room door waiting for my "Grand Entrance."

   I stopped dead in my tracks as I faced the wall of men. "You may touch her, if you like," I heard Tommy say.

   They certainly didn't need any more of an invitation than that. Seemingly all of their hands were on me in the next instant. Everywhere! My tits, neck, belly, back, hair, thighs, buttocks, ass crack and pussy were all being fondled, pinched, slapped and man handled by calloused dirty hands. Tommy stood right in front of me,  never taking his eyes from mine, watching my facial expressions change as their groping became even less inhibited.  A finger probed my pussy, while another started to press the rear . My nipples were crushed between hardened fingers, shooting white hot pain to my already overloaded brain. The pinching would stop as lips fixed on my hard nipples, sucking and biting the already sensitive buds, and the waitress grabbed a handful of my hair at the back of my head, pulled my face to hers and kissed me, forcing her tongue into my mouth. I stumbled and almost lost my balance as I slipped into a world dominated by my over stimulated senses.

      Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it ceased. I staggered for a moment before regaining my balance. Tommy took my hand and said, "Thank these nice people for taking the time to pay attention to you, slave."

   I looked at the assembled group and said, "Thank you for paying attention to this worthless slut slave."

   Tommy pulled my hand and walked me out of the diner to his bike. "You may put your skirt and top back on, but don't button the top."

    I retrieved my clothes from my purse, pulled on the skirt, and slipped on the blouse, leaving it unbuttoned as ordered.

   Tommy swung his leg over the bike and extended his arm for me so I could get on as well. "You may not pull your blouse closed, slave. Understood?"

   "Yes, Master," I answered.

   He kicked the big motor over  and it roared to life. Tommy waited while the engine warmed a bit, settling into a deep rich rumble before he put it in gear. He turned his head back to look and me, and said, "I love you, slave," and we pulled out of the diner parking lot, retracing our route back home.

   My blouse billowed in the wind as we rode, but I made no attempt to pull it together in front and close it. Rather I sat up straight, not leaning into Tommy's back and let the cool breeze blow over my exposed chest. I felt totally free, at peace with myself, and with my Master.

   The ride home seemed to be over before it started. My nerves returned as we pulled into the driveway, and the motion sensors turned on the floodlights.

   I climbed off the bike and opened the garage door so Tommy could ride the bike into the garage. When it was parked, he came out and faced me. "I want you to strip naked slave. Right here, and right now. You will wear no clothes for the rest of your birthday gift to me. Your slave collar and the wrist and ankle cuffs are to stay."

   I started to protest as I stood under the bright lights, but Tommy's gaze told me to forget it. I let the unbuttoned blouse fall from my shoulders and then pulled the skirt to my ankles. Carefully, I unfastened the garter belt then I unclipped the stockings from the belt and rolled them down. Bending over, I took off the heels and stockings. I stood back up, naked excepting for my collar and cuffs, awaiting my next command.

   "A real slave has no rights," he began. "Modesty, privacy, these are rights and privileges belonging to a lady, not a whore slut like you."

   I felt a tear roll out of my eye as he continued. "I want to watch you piss like a dog, cunt. Get on your hands and knees."

   I quickly obeyed, glad to be less exposed to the neighbors windows.

   "You're going to crawl out to the street like a proper little bitch, and then I will watch as you piddle in the gutter like a puppy."

   "I can't Tommy. Please," I burst out. "Please don't make me do this. Suppose someone drives by and sees me? Of if the Jacobs walk there dog?"

   Tommy kicked me in the ass, really hard, sending me onto the blacktop. "How dare you question me, cunt! You're going to be punished for this insolence, and severely. You can be assured of that."

   "I'm sorry, Master," I whispered.

   Tommy didn't say anything else. He just stood there, waiting patiently for me to obey him.

    Ever so slowly, I crawled down the rough driveway to the street, with Tommy a few feet behind me all  the way. A few cars drove by, but their headlights failed to illuminate our driveway, so I was fairly sure I hadn't been seen. Loose bits of gravel and debris dug into my hands and knees, making the trek all the more painful.

    When I got to the street, Tommy said, "Now squat and piddle like a good little bitch."

   I spread my knees apart, lowering my pussy closer to the ground. It took a while before I was finally able to empty my bladder due to this humiliation, but I had to go much more than I had thought, and a forceful stream shot out, splashing my inner thighs in piss. The piss made a large puddle by the curb, soaking my knees and feet.

   As soon as I had finished, Tommy said, "Crawl to the front door, kneel in front of it, and wait, slave," and he walked away, leaving me alone in the street.

   As I began the crawl back, a car came down the street.  Taking a shortcut across the lawn, I crawled as fast as I could and scurried up to the front door, where I knelt as ordered.

   Tommy had turned on the outside light over the door, which made my wait interminable, knowing that my naked body was lit up for anyone who happened to glance at our house. Finally, I heard the deadbolt move, and the handled turned as the door swung slowly open.

   Tommy stood aside as I crawled in past his feet. He closed the door behind me, and said, "Follow me."

   I crawled up the stairs and followed him into our bedroom. I immediately noticed a short length of chain wrapped around the leg at the foot of the bed.

   "Kneel before your Master," he ordered. I complied.

   Tommy used a Yale lock to attach the stout chain to my collar. The heft and weight of the chain pulled my neck down.

   "Pleasure me, slave," he said, as he sat down on the edge of our bed.

   I reached forward and undid his belt buckle, opened his pants, and freed his hard cock. Licking the tip slowly, the way I know he likes it, I took my time getting the entire shaft wet, before sucking him in as deep as I could. (I had never been able to deep throat him, something he always wanted from me).

   I was taking my time, drawing it out, when out of nowhere, Tommy grabbed me by the hair on either side of my head, and pulled me forward onto his cock, forcing it down my throat. I gagged, and began to vomit, but he held me fast, my nose tickled by his dense curly black pubic hair. Vomit oozed from my mouth around his cock, but he didn't let go. When he did finally pull my head back up, I coughed a few times before he yanked my hair again forcing his cock down my throat. I threw up instantly, but with my mouth effectively stuffed,  the vomit could only escape from the corners of my mouth, so some of it came out my nose as well.

   None of this seemed to discourage Tommy, as he settled into a steady rhythm of pulling my head up and then all the way back down on him. I gagged with each penetration of my virgin throat, but the vomiting finally stopped. "I've always wanted to throat fuck you, cunt, but you never wanted to try it. Hope you're getting used to it, because it's going to be a permanents part of your repertoire from now on."

   I was caught in a raging turmoil of feelings. Half of me was repulsed, disgusted even. So turned off by the gagging, the vomit, the humiliation, of this very violent and penetrative act. While on the other hand, I was somehow tremendously proud that I had taken Tommy so deeply and intimately into me.  His desire to possess my mouth completely, the pleasure and satisfaction I was giving him made me feel good that he desired me in such a carnal way. 

   (This strange and incomprehensible dichotomy of feelings was going to plague me throughout the duration of my birthday present to Tommy. And, if truth be told, it would plague me for many months to follow).

   When at last Tommy was unable to hold back any longer, he pulled my face hard against his groin and moaned loudly, shooting his seed down my throat. He was in so deep that I never even tasted his salty sperm offering.

   Sated, is demeanor  changed as he pushed me to the floor dismissively with his foot as he strode into the bathroom and shut the door. I heard the shower come on. After taking his shower, he came back and without uttering a word to me, climbed into bed, shutting off the bedside light. Alone, on the floor, naked in the dark, the sour acrid taste of vomit in my mouth, I curled into a ball and wept softly. My tears a jumbled mixture of happiness, fear, loathing, and pride. What had I unleashed? What was I becoming?  Somehow I knew, that the answers to these questions would be revealed during tomorrow's trials. My birthday gift would turn out to be as much for me as it was for my husband.

My Birthday Gift

By: Charles E. Campbell

Part 2

   I awoke the following morning, Tommy's birthday, in a hazy fog, unaware of very much, accept for the fact that it was daytime, my body was aching and stiff from sleeping on the floor, I was famished, and a mess, Tommy wasn't in our bed, and I was naked and still chained to the bed. Oh, and I forgot to mention, I really needed to pee!

   As I sat there on the floor, stretching, and trying to sort out the events of the previous night, the bedroom door opened and Tommy stood in the doorway, "So, my beautiful birthday present is awake. Hope you're ready for my day." He was wearing pajama bottoms, no shirt, and he was barefoot.

   "Yes, Master," I answered dutifully. "As ready as I can be," I added, half under my breath.

   Tommy came over to where I was sitting, took a key from his pocket and removed the chain from my collar. "I want you to use the bathroom, shower, and prepare your make-up like you did last night. Then you may come downstairs and join me for breakfast. Of course, you have no need for clothing today, you will be spending the day naked."

   He helped me up on to my feet, hugged me tightly and kissed me hard on the mouth, leaving me short of breath. Then he exited the room without another word to me.

   Stiffly I padded to the bathroom and treated myself to a long, luxuriant, hot shower. The steam and scalding water did a lot for relieving the stiffness, and made me perk right up, almost eager for the surprises I knew lay in store for me. It felt so rejuvenating I wanted to linger under the comforting water all day, but that would just forestall the inevitable I thought.

   Stepping from the shower, I wrapped my hair in an oversized towel and patted myself dry in front of the extra large well illuminated mirror Tommy had installed over the sink. Other than some dark circles under my eyes, I actually didn't look too badly, I thought,  especially considering how I had spent my night.

   I took my time and made up my face as Tommy had wanted, then I brushed out my hair. Figuring that I was ready as I would ever be for what lay ahead, I went downstairs to face my fate. Walking into the living room, I immediately saw that we weren't alone. My step sister Rosemary was seated on the sofa right next to my husband, awaiting my naked grand entrance as well.

   (Rosemary, Ro as everyone calls her,  is the daughter of my mother's second husband, Phil. My father died in a car accident when I was five, leaving us alone. Mom met Phil at a church function for single parents. His wife had passed a few years before my Dad, from ovarian cancer. They got married when I was nine. Ro and I were never destined to be close. Where I was a shy bookworm goodie-goodie type, she was wild, confrontational, and rebellious. I was a Brownie and Girl Scout, she hung out with kids at the mall, losing her virginity at fourteen to three high school boys at the same time. I was ever on the honor roll, while she was always headed to detentions, suspensions,  and summer school.

     The teasing started almost the instant we moved into their house. While Phil really tried his best to be the Dad I didn't have, Ro always got away with murder when it came to what she did to me. Phil always denied that his sweet little daughter would do any of the things I accused her of, and my mother always came to Ro's defense, probably out of fear that this wedge could destroy her marriage   The teasing and pranks started off small: stealing my homework, hiding my favorite toy, making the tires on my bicycle flat, short sheeting my bed, that sort of thing. But as Ro got older, and more sexually active, the pranks took a decided turn to the sadistic, sexual, and perverse. Once, when I was in the in 7th grade, I was in the lunch room with some friends at school. I pulled my sandwich out of the brown paper bag it was packed in, and found a used tampon stuffed in the baggie with the sandwich. Another time, as I was brushing my teeth in the bathroom mirror, Ro appeared out of no where, and stood in the doorway with a sneaky smile. She lifted her short skirt, revealing her naked pussy, and began to masturbate with a toothbrush, that looked exactly like mine. One time when Phil and my Mom were out, they left Ro to baby sit me. I was about thirteen, a late bloomer, just starting to grow tiny buds of breasts, my pussy still bald as a baby. I was taking a shower, and Ro must have snuck in and removed my bathrobe and the towel. I got out of the shower and after drying myself with toilet paper and facial tissues as best as I could, I had to make my way down the hallway, past Ro's bedroom, to get to mine. To my utter embarrassment, she was in her room with three of her slutty girlfriends, who were all waiting for me to walk past them naked. 

    Ro moved out  of the house and into an apartment with her twenty-seven year old boyfriend when she was seventeen. But just before she did, she made up a tale of how she caught me under the bleachers at school letting three boys feel me up. I was so afraid of the possible consequences if Mom heard the tale, that she was able to use it to blackmail me into watching her get fucked by her boyfriend one night when my Mom and Phil were out.  Before they fucked, she made me do a slow strip tease for them to get him hot. Then, when I was naked, mortified, and crying freely, I was made to watch Ro suck his cock and then lie down on her back, spread her legs far apart, and fuck him, on my bed. To finish it off, she had him cum on my pillow, and she forbade me from changing the pillow case for a week until she was out of the house.

To my knowledge, she's been through three husbands. The first two marriages ended in divorce. The third guy was to a member of an outlaw biker gang. He was killed when a meth lab he worked in exploded. In between, there have been countless "significant others" in her life, both male and female. We rarely saw each other for many years, but Ro moved back to town after Phil died, as he left the old house to her.)

"So," she said with a sinister evil grin as she drank in my nakedness, "My goodie-goodie little sister's all grown up now, and what a surprise, she's turned into a whore to boot! And to think I was always the one with the bad reputation. Look at you, slut. I'll bet your prissy and proper church going Mommy would be really proud of you now, huh, you dumb bitch!"

   I looked over at Tommy for some show of support, help, or guidance. I could feel my face flushed, completely embarrassed by my nakedness in Ro's presence, but he didn't say anything. Drinking in my embarrassment and humiliation at his hand.

   Ro stood up and came nearer to me for a closer inspection. She still looked pretty good, herself, I thought, especially if you took into consideration her years living a wild lifestyle. Full breasts barely contained by a tight fitting, two size too small tank top, narrow flat waist, round butt, and long perfectly sculpted legs encased in tight blue jeans, ending in high heeled mid calf boots. She wore far too much make-up, always did, and she reeked of some cheap perfume. I could see she had freshly manicured and painted fingernails, and that the nails had been filed to sharp points.

   "Put your hands at your sides," she ordered. (I had been vainly trying to cover myself in front of her the entire time).  Reluctantly, I did as she said.

   She went behind me, and I let out a little yelp and I jumped when I felt her sharp nails scrape over both of my buttocks at once. She gradually increased the force, until I knew she was cutting me with her nails. Her nails never left my body as she made her way around to face me, her nails coming across my twitching stomach and up under my breasts.  My eyes met hers as she pinched my pebble hard nipples between her torturous nails.

   "Listen to me carefully, little sister. Pay very close attention now, because I will not repeat myself. I'm going to say this once, and only once. From now on, you will only speak when you are asked a direct question, or if either Tommy or I give you permission to speak. If you break this rule, you will be dealt with severely. You will do whatever we say, there will be no hesitations, or you will suffer hard punishment. You will address me as Goddess Rose. Am I making myself clear enough for you, slut?"

   "Yes, Goddess Rose," I said, defeated, her broad toothy smile revealing how much she was loving all this.

    "That's a good little slave. You always were the smart one, weren't you? Fast learner. Goodie -goodie. Ass kissing little fucking pris!"

   Ro spit right in my face, hitting my nose and upper lip.

   "Lick it off, slave. That was my gift to you. You should show me some fucking gratitude!"

   My tongue located her thick warm spittle, which oddly enough, had no distinct taste I could tell.

   "Look at me, slave," she ordered.

   I looked directly into her eyes, as I felt, rather than saw, her right hand slide seductively down my belly toward my pussy. She toyed with the patch a little, studying my reaction, twirling her fingers in the dense curls before going lower through the furrow, seeking the hidden entrance.

   "Spread your legs apart," she whispered in a sexy half voice. "Make it easy for me to fuck your slut hole."

   I obeyed, as her fingers found what they'd been searching.

   Ro lazily toyed with my clit, before slipping a finger deep inside me, all the while studying my reaction. No one had ever played with me before, excepting of course for Tommy. I learned right then that what I had long heard was true. Only a woman truly knows how to pleasure another woman. She knew exactly what to touch and exactly how hard to touch it.

   I was getting really into it, as she summoned the beginnings of what was promising to be a mind blowing orgasm.

   "You really are fucking easy, cunt," she said, startling me, and bringing me back to the present. She wiped my wetness off her fingers onto my face so I could smell the pungent odor of my arousal. "Go fix us some breakfast. Scrambled eggs, juice, toast and coffee would be nice."

   "Yes, Goddess Rose," I answered, breathless,  my head swooning, as I headed to the kitchen.

  Tommy and Ro ate their breakfast seated at the kitchen table.  I went to sit down with them after serving their food, only to have Tommy say, "Lie down on the floor on your back, slave, with you cunt facing us."

   When I obeyed, Ro added, "Bend your knees and spread them, show us that fucking hideously disgusting slut cum hole."

   Ro got up, went to the refrigerator, rummaged around for a moment, before closing the door and handing me three carrots, with the greens dangling from the ends. "Shove these up that cunt and fuck yourself with them, slave."

   She waited while I obeyed, then she added, "Diddle yourself, bitch, but if you cum, I'll whip that cunt until it bleeds!"

   "Yes, Goddess," I replied humbly.

   They ate their breakfast at an unhurried leisurely pace, chatting about nothing in particular, as if a naked woman wasn't lying on the floor at their feet,  ramming three carrots into her pussy was as natural as can be. Occasionally they would watch me masturbating for them.

   "Put one of those carrots up your ass, slave," Tommy commanded as he stood up from the table to get a better view.

   I slid one carrot out of my pussy with one hand while I was gingerly probing for the tightly puckered rear hole  with the other. Fortunately, the carrot was soaked with my wetness, and it slid in fairly easily.

   "Keep your eyes on mine, cunt," Ro ordered, "While we watch you act like a cheap little whore for our entertainment."

   "Yes, Goddess Rose,"  Tears were building in my eyes as I answered her, humiliated, defeated, broken.

    Ro had a broad smile on her face as she observed my willing self debasement. The carrots were making me horny, and bringing me close to orgasm, which Ro picked up on right away, because she ordered me to stop fucking myself with them.

   "I want you to eat those carrots for your breakfast," Tommy said. "You may also eat all of the scraps Goddess Rose and I didn't consume. When you have done that, clean up the breakfast dishes, and join us in the living room."

   "Yes, Master," I replied, lifting a carrot to my mouth.

   Tommy and Ro stood over me, watching while I ate all three carrots before retiring to the living room.

   I hungrily gobbled up  the meager scraps they had left me as I cleaned up the dishes.

   The kitchen cleaned, I went to face my fate in the living room. As I entered the room, I yelped out, "Oh my God," at what I saw. Tommy and Ro were both naked. He was seated on the couch, his arms stretched out across the back, his legs spread wide. Ro was kneeling between his legs, her head bobbing up and down at a relaxed pace as she was sucking him off.

   They paid me no heed. Ro just kept giving my husband head while I watched, almost catatonic in my disbelief.

  She didn't bring him off.  She just stopped suddenly, sat down on the couch next to Tommy, with his unsatisfied hard-on, and spread her legs apart, licking her wet lips, and displaying her open sex to me.

   "Eat me, slave," she commanded.

    My stomach was in knots, as I had never eaten out a woman before, and the very repugnant idea of it had always repulsed me. Tommy caught my hesitancy, and said sternly, "On your knees, slave. Kneel before your Goddess and satisfy her needs! The next time you hesitate in carrying out an order, you will be whipped"

   I slowly knelt down between Ro's splayed legs, unable to look away from the juncture of her open legs, and stared at her sex. She was bald down there,  and she was pierced as well. Two large thick steel rings adorned both her left and right labia. There was a smaller ring pierced right through her large clit that made it seem all the more prominent atop her pussy. A small pendant in the form of the Roman symbol for Venus dangled from it at the top of her slit. The smell of her arousal was a powerfully strong disgusting musky mixture of wetness and sweat.

   Slowly, I moved my face towards the stinking wet folds, but Ro was impatient and had no desire to wait for me to lower myself even further. Grabbing the hair at the back of my head with both hands, she yanked my face forward into her gaping sex, holding my nose and mouth against her, until I began to panic as the instinct against suffocation set it.

   "Use your tongue, slave. That's what it's there for," she commanded, not letting go.  "Pleasure me!"

   I forced my tongue out of hiding from it's safe refuge, fearing the assault her pussy would have on my taste buds. To my utter surprise, although her odor was vile and totally disgusting to me, I really couldn't discern and noticeable flavor to her pussy, so I was able to bear it all by concentrating on breathing through my mouth.

   I had been ministering to Goddess Rose for a few minutes, when I felt a pair of hands massaging my upper back and down to my buttocks. I knew it had to be Tommy, as Goddess Rose had still not loosened her grip on my hair.

   Tommy's gentle massage felt really good, as I was very uncomfortable in the position I was in, and the soreness from last night had still not completely gone away. Tommy let his hand explore down between my cheeks and probe my soaking pussy. I felt the sofa move as he stood up and came around behind me. He knelt and I felt his coarse pubic hair against my ass cheeks, as he guided his cock into my eagerly waiting pussy. He started off slowly, with each thrust pushing my face in to Ro's sex.

   I was in heaven, and was actually getting into eating Ro's pussy, when Tommy abruptly pulled out, lined his stiff cock up with my rear hole, and shoved it right in. No warning, no warm-up. I yelped in pain and Ro held my face to her crotch, stifling most of my screams.

   I've done anal with Tommy, although it has never been a regular part of our sexual routine, and only because he really enjoys it. He feels that you have possession over a woman only when you enter the forbidden passage. Needless to say, I do not enjoy it. Never have, although I feel quite submissive when we do it, and that helps me get through it.

   This time, however, Tommy was hurting me, pounding me as violently as he could. I felt like I was being ripped apart. The pressure and pain was overwhelming.  I had long given up on pleasuring Ro, but she held my face fast to her pussy anyway as I squirmed and screamed.

   After what seemed an eternity of pain, Tommy came, shooting his load deep inside me, something I had never allowed him to do before. Slowly, he dismounted me, and lay down on the floor, exhausted. Goddess Rose dragged me by my hair and shoved my face onto Tommy's still hard cock, and ordered me to clean it off. I opened my eyes a bit, and saw that there was quite a lot of blood on his shaft, mixed with cum, and brown coloration. I hadn't smelled anything as foul since I was changing diapers.

   Ro kicked me in the side, really hard, knocking me to the floor. "Do as you're told, cunt. Clean up your mess. Don't waste anymore of my time, I'm sick of it. I have a lot planned for you today and we need to get going."

   Gingerly I took Tommy's filthy cock in my hand, and closing my eyes, guided it to my lips. I wanted to vomit from the gross thought of what I was tasting, but Ro had anticipated that and said, "If you puke, bitch, you'll clean that up with your tongue too."

Bile rose in my throat, but thankfully, I didn't throw up.

   Ro grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet. Tommy lay on his back, his cock flaccid. "You know what I want, Ro," he said.

   "Of course, Tommy. Leave it to me. I'll meet you back here around four or so."

   He nodded at her, then stood up. He hugged me tight and whispered in my ear, "I love you, Ellen. Be strong for me."

   Ro locked my wrist cuffs together behind my back and draped a long overcoat over my shoulders. She held my arms so I wouldn't fall as Tommy strapped a pair of high heels on my bare feet. Clipping a leather leash to my collar, Ro lead me out of the house and over to her large purple 3/4 ton pick-up truck. Opening the passenger door, she helped get me up on the running board and then into the high seat and she buckled me in.

    When she got into the driver's seat, she leaned over and picked a pair of sunglasses out of the glove compartment and placed them on my face. They looked just like high tech sunglasses, but as soon as she had them on me, my eyes couldn't see anything, as the lenses were anodized black metal, and wrapped around the sides of my face, effectively blindfolding me. Before firing up the big diesel engine, she pulled the coat off my shoulders, leaving me naked.

   "Now listen real good to me, little sister," she said as I felt the truck begin to move. "Every part of your life is about to change. Forever! No turning back. So my suggestion to you is to just go with the flow, or it's gonna get real ugly for you real quick. Capeesh?"

   "Y....yes, Goddess Rose. I.....I'll try."

   "You're gonna have to do more than try, cunt. Today is gonna be anything but easy for you. Believe me, your imagination isn't up to the challenge of foreseeing what you'll endure today. That's fer sure, I can tell you!"

   We both fell silent. All I knew was when her truck stopped for traffic lights and stop signs, and when it would again continue on our journey to who knew where. I did hear my side window open, and felt the cool air against my naked skin. I did hear some car horns, and catcalls, so I knew my nakedness wasn't exactly a secret.

   The entire trip, my crotch got wetter and stickier as Tommy's enormous cum load leaked from my sore rear hole. It felt uncomfortable as hell.

    Finally, Ro broke the silence, saying, "Ready for our first stop, cunt?"

   "Yes, Goddess Rose," I answered, stoically.

   Ro raised the window on my side before shutting off the motor. She got out and came around to my side, opened the door, and as she undid my seta belt said, "We'll leave the coat here. You've no need of it where we're going."

   She helped me down, and took my arm, leading me as I slid down from the cum covered seat.

   "You'll be cleaning my truck with your tongue, slave," she admonished me when  she saw the mess I had made.

   The sun felt warm, almost hot, against my naked flesh. As we walked a short distance I felt more cum slowly run down the insides of my thighs, and I heard a door open in front of us.

   "You're right on time, Ro," a female voice said.

   "You know me, Crystal," Ro replied, taking the sunglasses off my face that had effectively kept me blind. "How much time to do all need?"

   "Figure an hour and a half to two, I'd say," the woman answered as she eyeballed my nakedness.

   "Okay, then. I'll be back."

   Ro pinched my right nipple between her pointed nails and hissed, "Be a good little slave, and obey Crystal as you would me."

   "Yes, Goddess Rose," my head bowed, I answered her as she unlocked my wrist cuffs.

   Taking in the sights around me after Ro made her exit, I could see I was in a beauty salon somewhere, although I didn't recognize it at all.  There were four other women in the shop, besides Crystal, me, a receptionist, and four female beauticians. Two of the customers were getting dye jobs, one a pedicure, and the other one a hair cut.  They were all looking at me in total shock as I stood there stark naked before their collective gazes.

   "Follow me, Sweetie," Crystal said to me.

   She brought me up to the front of the salon, by the big window that faced the sidewalk and street.

   "Sit right here," she told me, patting an old fashioned barber's chair.

   I got up in the chair, feeling the cold leather against my naked back and butt. The sun was streaming in through the huge front window. It warmed my chest and legs, as it illuminated my body to passersby. The beautician who had been doing the pedi, had just finished up with her client. "Start the pedi first, Joann," Crystal said. "But before you do, I'll need your help getting her prepped."

   "Okay," Joann answered.

   From behind me somewhere, Crystal got a spreader bar and passed it to Joann, saying, "Put this on her ankle cuffs. Not too wide though."

   Joann nodded as she set about putting the bars on me. I thought she must have used them before, as she had no problem adjusting them and affixing them to my cuffs. Once she was done, Crystal handed her a pair of Velcro straps. Joann needed no instructions. She put my feet up on the foot rest, and looped the straps around my bent legs at my knees, securing them tightly to the cold porcelain arms of the antique chair.  I felt so helplessly open, with my feet close together, but my knees pulled far apart, facing the window and front door. It was at that moment that a woman entered the shop, her young daughter, I'd guestimate at 10 or so, at her side. She blanched when she saw me, and quickly placed herself between me and her daughter. I don't know if the young girl saw me, but the women fled the premises without so much as a second look at me.

   "Guess the waiting line was too long," Joann mused.

   Mortified, I rested my head back on the chair as Joann began working on my feet. I've always found pedi's soothing. I closed my eyes to enjoy it even more. So I felt, rather than saw Crystal apply the hot wax to a section of my pubic hair. It didn't burn my skin, but it was awfully close to it. I lifted my head and saw her dabbing the wax with a flat wooden stick. She took a strip of cloth and pressed it into the wax. Then, with one swift motion, she yanked the cloth off, ripping out the hair.

   I yelped more at the sudden shock, as the pain wasn't really all that hard to take.

   "That wasn't so bad, was it," Crystal asked,  as she began dabbing more warm wax on me again.

   "No, it actually wasn't," I agreed.

   "That's good, because when I get in there on your pussy lips it'll be a lot more intense than that was, I can assure you. Would you prefer if I tell you before I do it, or would you rather not know?"

   "I think telling me would be best," I said, "Thank you."

   "Okay then, I'll do it on three. One.. two....three." And she tore out more hair. It still hurt, but I didn't yell.

   While Joann was doing my toes, another beautician came over and stood behind crystal, watching the depilatory. After a few minutes of observation, she asked, "Want me to start her manicure, Crys?"

   "Yes, please, Barb. That would be a help. Are you sure you're free?"

   "My eleven o'clock cancelled, so I'm good."

   "Great. Thanks."

   Crystal was correct about how much more the waxing hurt on my labia than it had on my mound. It almost seemed like she was tearing the delicate lips right off!

   With three people working on me, it went quite fast. The only interruption on my fingernails and toenails was when Crystal needed me to change positions.

   "Okay, sweetie," she said. "You're all done in the front, so now it's time for the back. I need for you to get up and kneel on the seat facing away from me. Barb, you and Joann can go on break, come back in fifteen and you can finish the mani and pedi undisturbed."

   I knelt on the old barber chair facing away from Crystal.

   "Lean over against the seat back, Sweetie. That's it, now I need to have you reach back with both hands and pull your cute little cheeks apart for me so I can see your hairy little back door."

   I did as I was told, but my face flushed crimson red at the thought of  my puckered little ring exposed like that.

   Just as Crustal was applying the first coat of wax back there, the front door of the salon swung opened, and I heard a male voice say, "Morning, Crystal, I know I don't have an appointment, but could someone squeeze me in?"

    "Of course, Blake, you know we always can fit you in" she replied, still coating me with wax. "I'll be done with this one in fifteen minutes if you'd like to wait for me."

   "That would be great, thanks." I heard the man whisper to Crystal, "This is certainly a lovely view to greet your clients when they come in. I really love it!"

    I felt a finger slide into my pussy, and Crystal added, "And this one's really into it too. She's flowing like a river, see! You can stay and watch if you'd like. She's such a slut I'm sure she wouldn't mind, now would you," she jokingly asked me.

   "If it would please you," I blushed, mortified. Obedient.

   When Crystal was finished waxing me in the rear, she made me stand up, right in the middle of the salon,  all the other patrons watching, facing a wall of mirrors in front of me and behind me. I hadn't seen my pussy hairless since before I went through puberty. I was astounded at how totally naked I now appeared.

   "Barb and Joann will finish you up slut, sit back in you chair and they'll be with you in a few minutes."

   "Yes, Ma'am," I answered and got back in the chair.

    "Keep your legs apart, slave. I'd like to have my clients see how nice a job I do with a Brazilian waxing."

    I stayed in the chair, open for all to see, and waited for my manicure and pedicure.

       Just as they were finishing up with me, Ro returned and saw me sitting with my legs splayed. "You look like you did when we first met," she exclaimed, eying my baldness. "What a hot looking slut you are. You're gonna turn some heads today, slave. Believe me."

    Then to Crystal, Ro said, "Thanks Crys, I owe you one. See you tonight?"

   "You bet, Ro. Wouldn't miss this for the world!"

   Then to me, she said, "Let's go, cunt. We have a lot more to do before heading home."

   I got up from the chair, and Ro placed the blackout sunglasses on my face again, once again effectively blinding my sight. She grabbed me by my upper arm and walked me to the back of the salon, and out the door to her waiting truck.

   "Keep your feet up on the dash, cunt, legs apart, lets let that bald pussy air out a bit, it smells like rotten fish already," she said as she attached my seatbelt.

   "Yes, Goddess," I replied, as I  put my feet up on the dashboard, spread apart. I could feel the cool breeze blow across my open sex as Ro had put all the truck windows down.

   "Give yourself a wank, slave, like a nice little dirty whore."

   I put my fingers to my pussy, which was once again soaking wet, and played with myself. I was torn between the utter humiliation of doing this where I could be seen by even a casual observer, and the extreme rush I was feeling from that same chance of being found out.

   "Need I remind you, cunt, that you are not to cum, ever, unless Tommy or I give you express permission?"

   "No, Goddess, I won't. I remember."

    We rode in silence for a while, every once in a while Ro would make me lick my juices from my hand and then continue with my wank.

   When she stopped the truck, Ro undid my seat belt and grabbing a fistful of my hair, she rubbed my face into the seat, and told me to clean up my mess. The seat was wet with my juice.

   She pulled me from the truck and walked me a short distance, the sunglasses still on, so I knew not where I was or what my circumstances were. I heard a door open, and Ro pushed me in ahead of her.

   "Hey, Little John," Ro called out.

   "Hey Rosie," a deep male voice returned. "Howya doin'?"

   "I'm good, Little John, great in fact. Havin' a shitload of fun today, as you can see."

    "Oh yeah, Rosie. She's pretty hot. Wouldn't mind knockin' off a piece o' that shit."

   "You'll getcher chance, Little John, don't worry, but not 'til she's all done, remember our agreement?"

   "Yeah, yeah. No sweat, Rosie. I'll take good care of her. You stickin' around to watch it?"

   "Nah, I'm headin' over to Janie's. We're gonna light up a few doobies and play for a while. I'll be back around 3:00, okay?"

   "Yeah, that'd be good."

   Ro took the glasses off my face, and in the dim light I saw I was face to face with a mountain of a man. Little John had to be 6 foot 6 and three hundred pounds at least! He was completely covered in tattoos, from his bald head to his fingers. A seemingly infinite number of rings pierced his eyebrows, ears, nose, and lips. His salt and pepper beard was worn in braids and hung down to his barrel like chest with colored beads woven through the thick mat.

   Ro spun me around to face her and said, "Need I once again have remind you to obey Little John  as you would me, slave?"

   "No, Goddess Rose," I said, looking back at the silent hulk who was ogling me hungrily.

   Ro left me there alone with him. As soon as I could force myself to stop staring at him, and looked away, I saw I was standing in a tattoo parlor.

   "I'm getting a ta.....tattoo," I stammered, shocked by the prospect and the total permanence of it.

   "Yer gonna be lookin' a whole lot diff' rent by the time I'm done with you, girlie, I kin promise ya that!"

    It suddenly sunk in that I was going to be permanently marked with ink for Tommy. Modified, forever. Fear gripped me as I had never envisioned this act as being included  as part of my gift to him.

   "If you wanna have one last look attcher self the way ya are now, I'd say now's the time ta be doin' it. There's a mirror over on that wall ta yer left."

   I didn't actually know what he meant, but I did want to be obedient, so I stepped over and looked at my naked reflection in the floor to ceiling mirror. My eyes instantly fixed on my now hairless pussy, the upper part of the slit exposed, and I was just as quickly embarrassed by the realization that I was now naked, and alone with this mountain of a man.

   "Okay, little filly, I'm gonna start with the tats Ro wants on those little titties of  yours, so be a good little cunt and hop up in this chair," he said, patting a vinyl chair, similar to the one at the salon.

   "St.........start wit....th.......?"

    "I'm gonna start with inking your titties, cunt, then I'll do the one over that sweet lookin' bald pussy. That one will take a bit of time, maybe an hour an a half or so. Last'll be the one I ink on yer ass. That one's gonna go a good two hours fer sure."

   I slowly got in the chair, torn by what Tommy was having done to me. and watched as  Little John pulled on a pair of latex gloves before examining my nipples. He rolled them between his huge thumbs and forefingers, both of them at the same time.  He didn't do it to hurt me, but rather, it seemed he wanted to get them up at attention. Satisfied with how hard they were, he wiped them fastidiously with alcohol.

   "This is gonna hurt cha some, girlie," he chided me. "Specially as seein' as ta how ya ain't got any ink yet, so ya don't know what it's like. It's sorta like hundreds o' bee stings and a taste of fire at the same time."

   With his mammoth left hand, he took a firm hold of my left breast, and squeezed it pretty tightly. I heard the buzz from the tattoo gun and watched him dip it into a thimble sized vial of a reddish brown ink.

   The buzzing needle touched my areola, raining fire on the tender skin and I yelped in pain, my body jerking reflexively, but Little John's grip was firm, and he just kept on. I wasn't screaming, but I was crying out. Even through it all, I couldn't not watch as he gradually and painstakingly transformed my previously light tan nipple and areola, into a very dark reddish brown color.

   I couldn't stop squirming, the white hot fire was so intense on the tender bud. but Little John held fast, not letting go his grip until my entire nipple and areola was completely colored in.

   "Take a little breather, girlie," Little John admonished me. "We're jus' gittin started here."

   He gave me a few minutes to calm down before coloring in my right nipple and areola to match. When  he was done, he said, "that color'll sure stick out through any top ya might wear!"

   I didn't recognize myself as Little John held a mirror in front of my chest so I could see his handiwork first hand. My tits looked like they belonged to someone else, all dark now. Against my pale white skin the stark contrast  really made  the tips stick out.

   "Time fer your cunny now, bitch. I'm gonna  need to have ya slide down a bit and git cher legs up in these stirrups for me."

   I slid forward in the chair and lifted my legs. Dread filled my stomach at what would be permanently inked into me next. (Odd I thought, at the time, that I was obsessing more with the tattoo I was about to get, than with the fact that a total stranger was face to face with my open sex). Little John lifted my legs gently into the stirrups, which were mounted on the outside of the chair arms.

   He wiped some sort of cold clear gel on my mound before placing a stencil of some kind over the gel. I was lying with my head back on the chair, so I couldn't  see what he was doing.

   "That's about right," he said, more to himself than to me. "This one's gonna hurt a bit more than usual, I'd think, just cuz a you havin' just gotcher pussy waxed."

   I heard the now all too familiar buzz of the needle and tried to brace myself for it's inevitable sting. (There is no fucking way in hell to prep for that sensation, in case you're thinking of getting a tat on your pussy!)

   By the time Little John had finished inking my twat, I was bathed in sweat, my hands sore from gripping the arms of the chair so tightly. He rubbed a salve of some kind over the area.

   "I'll give you a tube o' this stuff when you leave, an' a sheet that'll tell ya how to take care of your tats while they heal up.

   "I'm gonna get a smoke an' take a leak," he said, as he stood up, stretching to his enormous full height. "You need a drink o' water or sumptin', there's a fridge in the office back there. Toilet's there as well if ya need it. I'll be back in ten minutes or so and we'll finish up with that tat on yer ass."

He went outside and I got up from the chair, and couldn't help looking into the wall mirror at my reflection. "Oh my God!" I yelped when I saw what was inked into my mound.

slave

cunt

   And there it was, forever placed on my skin to remind me of what I now was to Tommy. Written in big, thick, black, stark, block letters, highlighted with blood red and gold accents. I slipped to the floor, crying freely, and threw up.

   When Little John came back in he found me still crying on the floor, in a pool of my own vomit.

   "What happened to you," he yelled? "You okay?"

   I didn't answer him right away.

   I stood up, gathered myself as best I could, took a deep breath, and said softly, " Yes, I'm fine. I'll, I'll cl.... clean this up. Do you have a mop and pail?"

   He pointed to the office, where I found a bucket and mop.

   Something in me changed dramatically as I mopped up my vomit, naked, demeaned, while Little John watched intently. I can't say it was a conscious revelation, or something even nearly as epic as that. But I felt a real change in me. I looked in the mirror again and again as I mopped the floor, looking at my tattooed lower belly, and a strange, eerie, almost calming sense of pride began to rise deep within me. I could feel it beginning to build in me, and take over. By the time I had finished cleaning up my mess, I actually felt proud of my new tattoo, and more importantly, what it meant for me, and much more importantly, what it meant for Tommy.

   "I love this, Little John," I said to him, as I squared myself to the mirror, legs apart. "You did a really great job. I'm going to put away the bucket and mop and pee real quick, then you can do my last tattoo."

    John had me lie on a table on my stomach facing the wall mirror for the last tattoo. He had selected my right cheek for his artwork. It took quite some time for him to complete it, but it didn't hurt nearly as much as the tattoos on my nipples and mound had, and I was very thankful for that. Ro returned about halfway through the last tattoo, arm and arm with an bald, anorexic, waifish looking albino woman. I could see them both in the wall mirror when they arrived. Ro was quite obviously stoned and her friend was equally out of it as well.

   When he was finally satisfied with his artwork, Little John held up a hand mirror on an angle so I could see my newest ink reflected in the wall mirror. It was truly amazing work. Actually more a work of art. In total it was about six inches square, and was a scene that depicted a naked female slave. She was on her knees, chained to a stone dungeon wall. Her arms were outstretched in heavy iron shackles. Her large breasts, belly, and upper thighs were covered in a horrifying  series of crisscrossing red whip marks. Her long dark hair a filthy tangled sweaty mess, hanging forward, covering her face over her drooped head.

   "Really a sweet job, L.J.," Ro's friend offered, as she ran her fingers lightly over the tattoo, and inspected my butt. "One of  your best!"

   "Thanks Janie. It did come out good."

   Ro stood in front of me and lifted my chin so I could see her as she spoke. "I think Little John deserves a proper thank you, slave, don't you?"

   "Yes, Goddess Rose," I said politely. "Thank you, Little John for doing such fantastic tattoos."

   Ro slapped my face very hard, snapping my head to the side violently. "A proper thank you from a slave requires you to be on your knees, you fucking dumb cunt!"

   I pushed myself up from the table, and knelt facing the behemoth. "Thank you, Little John," I repeated, "For doing such a fan....," Ro slapped me again, even harder this time, knocking from my knees to the floor.

   "You really are a dumb cunt, aren't you? Must I teach you everything? Kneel in front of Little John again, slave!"

   Ro grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked me back onto my knees, placing hy head a few inches from his groin.

   "Now I'm gonna teach you the proper way for a slut to give thanks slave.

   "Unzip his jeans, and suck his cock, you stupid whore. That's the only fitting way a slave can thank someone! It's all your fucking good for!"

   I looked quickly from Ro to Janie, to Little John, but there was no look of compassion on anyone's face. There was no way out of this.

   Without even making a conscious thought, my hands rose to the zipper on Little John's jeans and pulled it down.

   He wasn't wearing any underwear, so I was instantly greeted by a dense bush of coarse black hair. Little John unbuckled his belt and pulled it off through the belt loops before letting his pants drop down exposing his heavily tattooed legs, and settling around his ankles.

    His thick cock was already standing proudly at attention, he must have been anticipating this for a while, I thought, as I looked at his member. It wasn't long, maybe five inches, being generous, but it was easily the thickest cock I had ever seen, better than 2 1/2 inches in diameter. The deep purple "helmet" was engorged with blood. Thick veins roped along the shaft, and a large drop of pre-cum glistened from the hole.

  I licked at the drop of pre-cum first, tasting his salty seed, savoring it's acrid bite. Then, ever so slowly, I began licking the head, letting my tongue tease him. It was at that precise moment that I came to the realization that I not only wasn't at all embarrassed by what I was doing, I was instead, very proud of it. I was determined to show Little John my deepest thanks for marking me as Tommy wanted me marked, as His slave cunt.

   Letting my tongue leisurely explore his cock from the tip to the base that was hidden in the dense thicket of pubic hair, I finally took him deep in my mouth, burying my face in the hair. I had to open my mouth as wide as it could get in a gaping yawn to accommodate his girth, while my tongue was forced way to the back. He moaned and said, "Now Ro?"

   "She's yours L. J. I already told you. Do whatever the fuck makes you happy, man"

   I didn't know what either of them meant, but it didn't take long for me to find out. An explosion of pain lit up my brain as he began whipping the un-tattooed left side of my ass with his belt while I struggled to suck him off.

   The strapping I received from him was vicious, brutal, a quite savage. The belt fell hard and fast and completely devoid of accuracy. I'm not sure if it was his inability to concentrate while I blew him, or if he was just so heady with the freedom he'd been granted  to beat me, but the belt would hit my ass with one stroke, my back with the next, my thigh with the next, even sometimes catching me on my side across my ribs and slashing into my breast. No intentional patterns here.

   Once the flogging began, I was no longer even trying to suck him off as a thank you. He put his formidable bulk into each and every lash. I started sucking  as hard as I could and fucking him with my mouth at the same time, in a pitiful attempt to shorten the agony. My painful screams effectively gagged by his thick meat, everyone present seemed oblivious to my sufferings. As his orgasm approached, the belt fell even harder and faster, until his stringy salty cum filled my mouth, and he staggered back away from my face, weak in the knees.

   "Up on your feet, whore," Ro said, as Little John regained some composure and pulled his pants back up. My skin felt like it had been set aflame as I obeyed her, and stood up, stiffly. "Now that you're properly prepared, it's time for us to head back home and allow you to present your birthday gift to your owner!"

  

  

  

  

  

  

   

   

My Birthday Gift

By Charles E. Campbell

Chapter 3

   I was still naked as we started to walk out of the tattoo parlor, when Ro quite suddenly stopped and said, "We forgot her fucking hood, Janie!"

    "I'll get it for you, Ro, you wait here. It'll be much easier for us puttin' in on her in here than in yer truck anyway, luv."

    Ro and I waited in the back of the tattoo parlor while Janie went out to the truck. She was back in under a minute with a paper bag. "Got it," she said, as she came through the door and reached into the bag.

    She pulled her hand out of the bag, producing a bondage hood. I had only seen them in fetish videos before, never in real life. It was made out of a very smooth, soft, and supple dull black leather. The hood had laces running up from the bottom at the back to the middle of the head, and there were zippers where the eyes and mouth of the wearer would be. Two small metal grommets had been fitted under the nose bridge to guarantee air. There were quite a few chrome "D" rings strategically fastened on the hood on the top, sides, back and front.

    "Why don't you get her hair up in a tail on top, while I get this thing loosened up," Janie suggested.

    "Ok. Good idea," Ro agreed. "Putting her hair up like that will give us a nice solid handle for moving her head around."

    Ro reached into her enormous shoulder bag and removed a brush, which she proceeded to use on my hair. "Bend over, slave," she commanded.

   "Yes, Goddess," I replied.

    Ro kept brushing my hair, making it fall over the top of my head. She took an elastic band, gathered up my hair in a ponytail, and slid the band over it. "Stand up."

   "Yes, Goddess."

   When I stood up, I felt my hair standing up from the top of my head, and flipping down like a waterfall from the band.

    "Whadya think, Janie?"

   "I'd use a coupla more ties, Ro. I think it's too loose and bushy, ya know what I mean? It'll be a whole lot easier to grab her fucking head if ya like make it into a rope."

    Ro put three more ties in the ponytail, each separated by a few inches, which effectively turned the waterfall into a tightly bound rope of hair.

   Janie said, "Face your Goddess, bitch."

   "Yes, Ma'am," I answered as I turned to face Ro.

   Janie reached in front of me with the hood in her hands and placed it loosely on my head and over my face. Ro and Janie began to pull and tug the hood to get it in the proper alignment so that my nose was in the bridge, the grommets touching my nostrils, the zippered openings for the eyes directly in front of my eyes, and the one for the mouth centered, with my ponytail poking up through the top.

   While Ro kept pushing and shaping the hood, I could feel Janie behind me pulling the laces snug. The process was slow, tedious, but they kept making minor adjustments to the hood and the ponytail, until at last they were done and the hood was form fitted to my head

   I wouldn't describe my feelings as claustrophobic, but rather more like being distant, removed from the outside world. Safe even. From my neck up over my chin and face I was encased in the sweet smelling leather. Ro tried the zippers over my eyes, completely shutting out my vision. She tried the mouth zipper as well, then checked the grommets to make sure breathing wouldn't be a problem.

   "Let me do the gag, Janie," Ro said.

    "Sure, here ya go," Janie replied.

   Ro unzipped the zipper covering my mouth, and said, "Open your mouth, slave."

   I opened it as far as the tight hood would allow. With the eyeholes zippered I couldn't see what was happening. All at once, I felt something being pushed into my mouth. It was fat and round, soft on the outside, firm on the inside. Ro pushed the object steadily into my mouth, forcing my tongue down. It stopped just shy of my gag reflex.

   The strain on my jaw muscles began right away. I felt some tugging to the hood and Ro's fingers as she attached the snaps on the gag to the snaps on the hood, rendering it impossible for me to dispel it.

   "Looks just like a short thick cock, doesn't it Janie?" Ro commented.

    "Really nice and considerate of you to get her used to it, Ro. She's gonna suck a lot of cocks tonight!"

    Someone took hold of my arm and pulled. We began walking. I heard a door open, and felt the cooler outside air as we left the building. We walked a little way and climbed back up into Ro's truck. I had no way to judge the time with the eye zippers closed, but I knew I had been with Little John for a long time. Janie shoved me roughly into the middle of the bench seat so that I would be seated between the two of them. The big gear shift sitting forced me to have to straddle the enormous transmission hump, with one leg touching Janie and one touching Ro.  

   Ro started the truck and I had to quickly spread my legs wider as gearshift hit me on my thigh when she shifted into second gear.

    "Play with me, cunt," Janie said suddenly, grabbing my right hand and pulling it between her legs.  "I wanna be ready for the fun tonight!"

   I felt the coarse denim of her cut-offs and started to rub her through the heavy material. Obviously she wasn't satisfied, as I could feel her undo the button and pull down the zipper. Without hesitation, she arched her back and slipped the shorts off, pushing them down to her ankles. She pushed my hand atop her silky smooth shaved crotch. Unable to see, my fingers explored, feeling for the top of her slit, but to no avail. I was utterly confused as my fingers were clumsily probing for her clit in order to satisfy her. I was at a complete loss, until  she opened her legs, and I felt her erect penis  leap up from the confines of where Janie had safely tucked it between her legs.

    Startled, I pulled my hand away with a jump when I felt the cock hit my hand.  Janie grabbed my right arm in the fleshy part below the elbow, and digging her sharp nails into me she yelled, "What the fuck is wrong with you bitch. I'm the best of both worlds. Now jerk me you stupid cow!"

   "Do what you're told, slave," Ro chimed in. "That's all you have to do today is obey your orders. You're so fucking stupid you can't even get that right!"

   Janie's vise-like grip forced my hand back to her groin and she held on until I grasped  and began to stroke her thin cock. As she started to let off on the pressure of her nails in my arm, she hissed,  "What's yer fucking rush, cunt? Haven't you ever jacked off yer ole man before? Take it easy. I want you to memorize every inch of me, because I'm gonna fuck  all three of yer slut holes before I'm through with you, bitch!" She had menacingly spit the word bitch out to drive home her threat.

   She pulled my arm away from her cock and up to her face and said, "Open yer hand, slave."

   I obeyed, and she spit on my hand.

   "That'll add a little lube," she said, putting my hand back down on her cock.

   I slowly stroked her, teasing the hole in the tip with my finger, the way Tommy likes it. Sometimes, I'd let my fingers push into her ball sac back deep along the shaft on a down stroke. Her telltale little moans told me I was making her happy.

   "What the fuck am I," Ro exploded? "Hired fucking help?"

   She grabbed my left hand and pushed it into her naked pussy. (I hadn't heard her slip off her jeans while I was so involved concentrating on pleasing Janie.

   Her pussy was completely soaked as I entered her with two fingers and began to probe her as best as I could at that angle in the truck.

   My mind was flashing with images of how I must have looked at that instant. Naked, my legs splayed over the truck's transmission hump, jacking off a bald albino shemale with one hand, while I was diddling the female driver with my other, my nipples and areolas tattooed a dark color, and topping it all off, just above my pre-adolescent looking hairless pussy, a bold proclamation stating in completely unambiguous blunt terms what I was. A SLAVE CUNT! (Boy, talk about truth in advertising!)

   I don't even have a clue as to how long we drove together like that, but because neither Ro nor Janie spoke for the rest of the trip, and I certainly didn't feel I had the "rights" to initiate a conversation. The interminable silence coupled with the cramping I was feeling in my hands made the time crawl. I kept my hands moving, trying to alter the position a bit, although I didn't hear even the slightest moan of pleasure  from either of them. I wasn't sure if I was doing a poor job ministering to them, or if they both possessed amazing resolve. Finally, I felt the truck slow down and make a hard turn to the right, and the  road surface became uneven and bumpy, causing the truck to bounce and lurch around quite a bit.

   Ro stopped the truck and pushed my hand away so she could pull up her jeans. Janie followed suit.

   Ro clipped a chain dog leash top a "D" ring in the top of my hood, opened the door, and pulled me out and onto the ground.

   "Here's where the real party begins, little Sis. Your hubby's here with a lotta his friends, so remember your place, and keep in mind that this whole thing was all your bright fucking idea from the get go.

   "Get up!"

   I stood up, and Janie draped a long coat over my shoulders. She didn't bother to close the front, so I knew it was going to billow open with each step I took.

   "Let's go, slave," Ro said giving the leash a quick tug. "It's time for us to party!"

   We walked over some sort of  rough pavement for a few steps, but then I felt it change to the uneven contour of a lawn. As we continued walking, I began to hear muffled voices, both male and female, although there were none I could recognize. The talking grew louder and more clear as we neared the people, but went dead silent suddenly. I supposed that was the point when we were spotted.

 

   We took a few more steps in the silence before a pull on my arm signaled a stop. Without a word, the coat was slipped from my shoulders and whisked away, exposing me to everyone present. I felt a tug at the zipper at my mouth opening it. "Open, slave," Ro said, grabbing the penis gab and pulling it out of my mouth. My aching jaws were sore, but grateful for the freedom to close, albeit it gingerly at first.

   "Tommy," Ro spoke. "Your birthday gift is prepared and presented. Happy Birthday, you lucky mother fucker!"

   The hands holding my arms let go and disappeared. I stood stock still not knowing what I should do. I was secretly thankful for the hood and the zippers keeping me in darkness. To say I was nervous would be an understatement. Little tremors caused me to jerk slightly. Shivers ran up and down my spine, and I could feel goose bumps breaking out on my arms and chest.

   After what seemed like an eternity, I felt gentle almost timid caresses from a pair of hands. They began on my shoulders from the back, massaging my tense neck muscles. Ever so slowly, they traveled down my back, kneading the knots away as they descended to my butt. I could feel the tension flowing from me as the loving hands soothed my fears.

   This unexpected pampering stopped momentarily, and then began anew up on my shoulders again, only this time from the front. Slowly, the relaxing hands worked down to my breasts, kneading them and gently pinching my tender nipples. By the time a hand pushed deeply into my soaking wet pussy, I was just about ready for anything to gain some release.

   The hands stopped  their loving ministrations. I felt them glide up my body and grasp hold of  the zippers over my eyes and open them up. I blinked a couple of times as my eyes adjusted to the harsh artificial light and I squinted through the narrow slits to see Tommy's face staring back at me.

   "I love you, slave," he said to me. "This is absolutely the most amazing birthday gift anyone could ever receive. You are incredible. I love you!"

   Tommy hugged me tightly and kissed my open mouth through the hood, his tongue probing deeply into me. Then he stopped and placing his hands on my eye slits again, he pulled the zippers shut. He pressed down on my shoulders, pushing me down to my knees.

  I felt his stiff cock lightly touch my lips, and tasted a copious drop of pre-cum with my tongue before sucking him deeply into my eager receptive mouth. Tommy didn't move, he let me do it all. Sucking, licking, fucking him with my mouth. He must have been worked up, because I  was swallowing his cum very soon after it began.

   I heard a round of applause as he withdrew from my mouth.

   Tommy grabbed my hair, pulled my head back hard and whispered, "Now comes your real gift to me, slave. Obey!" He spit in my mouth as he yanked me sideways by my hair. I fell to the grass.

   "Please avail yourselves of my birthday gift. What's mine is yours," Tommy said as he left me lying there alone. "She is here tonight for your pleasure. Use her!"

   The rest of the evening was a mad whirlwind of activities, seemingly all centered on using me in a widely assorted myriad of ways. I honestly don't remember everything that took place, as one thing lead quickly to another. Each one being more painful or humiliating than the last. I will try and recall as much of it as possible for you, as Tommy has ordered me to post this story for your amusement, and I know I will be severely punished for any editing or omissions he feels are intentional on my part.

   I do know for certain that the first thing that happened was something that I had only seen in religious images from my time growing up with my parents, and it was something that had always disturbed me deeply. Two people pulled my up from the ground and wound stout rough ropes tightly around my wrists and ankles. My arms were then drawn up high above my head until I my feet leave the ground and I was hanging from a crossbeam by my outstretched wrists by the ropes. My ankles were then tied to the sides of a post in such a fashion that my feet were off the ground and my knees were bent at a right angle. I was being crucified!

   The strain in my arms, chest and shoulders was instantaneous. Breathing became difficult, strained, and I instinctively pushed up with my legs to try and ease the pressure in my chest and ease my breathing. The coarse rope chaffed my wrists and ankles, compounding the misery while cutting off circulation to my hands and feet. I would try to hold myself in that position as long as I could before slowly sliding back down against the rough wood of the upright, and start the process anew, hanging from my wrists.

   At one point in my torture I heard a man say, "I told you, Tommy. See what I meant? The female body was made for crucifixion. It's perfect. Also, it's a great way to break your slave's spirit. Makes her far more compliant with anything you want to do with her. And trust me, she'll never grow used to it. Never. Quite the contrary is true actually. She'll grow to fear it more and more, so much so that she'll be even more willing to do anything for you to either shorten her sentence of penance on the cross or possibly even attempt to get out of it all together.

   "And it's particularly effective in inclement weather too. Rain, snow, direct sunlight, flying insects, these will all combine beautifully to enhance your slave's sufferings. Just make sure that you monitor your slave from time to time and she'll survive it all just fine."

   "Thanks, William," I heard Tommy say. "I must agree with you that she does look incredible in her agony."

   "Thought you'd concur. I'll send you the plans for a cross that I designed. It's rather sturdy, and can be disassembled very easily for storage."

   "That'd be great. Thanks so much. I never imagined how fantastic this could be. I'm going to hang her on the cross often. I can't get over how hard I am just watching her suffer like this for me."

    They left me alone to suffer in my torment. Several times while I hung there I would be visited by the sensation of hands groping, pinching, and probing me. Fingers in my pussy and ass, then wiping my own wetness across my belly or legs, or pinching and twisting and tugging on my nipples. I could smell the strong all too familiar musky odor of arousal coming from my open legs and sex. I have absolutely no idea how long I was left there hanging, open and exposed, suffering in painful agony. I do remember the tremendous sensation of relief I felt when I was finally untied and placed on the ground on all fours. And that was when the fucking began.

   Yes, it was a fucking. No sensual turn on literary terms like love making would apply to what happened. I was fucked. Over and over again, Pounded. All three of my holes were fair game, and none were spared. It was anything but pleasurable for me. I was just a receptacle for their cum. Actually,  to be more accurate, it was really as if they were all just jerking off. Self gratification. My mouth, pussy, and ass, nothing more than surrogate right hands for their release.

    My pussy and ass felt like they were being ripped open, torn apart, (I was certain I was bleeding both anally and vaginally). Thick cocks drove down my throat with such force that I threw up everything that was inside me. I was even taken by three men simultaneously, a truly unique experience to say the least. One man laid down on his back and I was made to straddle him, impaling my pussy on his cock. Another man came up behind me, pushed me forward and entered my ass.  And yet a third stood in front of me and fucked my mouth. Cum was streaming from my pussy and ass, running down my legs as one man would finish with using me, and another would take his place. All the cum that was dumped into my mouth was swallowed. There were times when someone's hand would scoop up the cum oozing out from my pussy and ass and deposit it in my mouth for my consumption. Laughter and name calling surrounded me and filled my ears. "Whore! Pig! Slut! Cunt!" You name it, I heard it. But as the old saying goes......"If the shoe fits....."

   With all of the men, I couldn't even guess the number, (some of them probably used me more than once), sated, I heard a female voice I didn't recognize yell out, "Our turn ladies. I want to zipper her. C'mon girls, let's have some fun with her. Help me out!"

   Hands grabbed me once again  and hauled me roughly back to the cross. They bound my hands to the crossbeam again, but tied my feet together at the base.

  "Here's the clothes pins," one of them said. "Amy and I'll do her arms and tits. You guys do her legs and pussy. Get them as close together as you can. It's easier for us to lace them when they're really close. It takes longer to lace when there are a lot of them, which is the idea here. The longer she has them on her, the more intense  the shock will be when we rip them off her. Wait'll you see this. I know you're gonna love it. She won't, that's for certain, but who cares, we will!"

   Pinching sensations started to register in my already addled brain. Inside my thighs just about the knees, moving slowly, steadily upward to my pussy. At the same time, inside my arms from the elbows up into my armpits. It didn't hurt really, it was more like a growing sense of discomfort.

   They took their time. Meticulously placing the clips as close together as possible, pulling the skin tight as my tender flesh was grabbed by the wooden teeth. Two women made circle patterns around my boobs while the other two competed to see how many they could attach to both my inner and outer labia. When there was no room left, one of the women clipped one on my sensitive swollen clit. It felt like I had been stabbed with a needle the pain was so bad.

   I was shaking uncontrollably by the time they were making patterns with the pins on my stomach. Each pin seemed to be radiating heat.

    "Now each of you pick an arm or a leg and lace your string through the springs on the pins. You don't need to knot them, just the tie off the string on the first one is all you'll need."

   They worked in silence until I heard, "All done ladies? "

   "I have a few left, Lisa," one of them said. "Then I'll be done."

   "I have a couple of clothes pins I didn't use, Lisa. Can I put them in her mouth?"

  "Sure, that's a great idea, Cindy."

   "Open you mouth, bitch."

   I obeyed, and was rewarded with a clothes pin on my tongue, and five more dangling from my lower lip.

   "Okay," Lisa announced, "We're all set. Let's go get something to drink and let this little whore ponder her fate." Lisa took hold of my head and growled, "I can't begin to tell you what you're about to experience, slut. But trust me, it's going to hurt like fuck! But that's what you want, isn't it, you piece of shit?"

   When I didn't reply right away, she yelled in my face, "Tell us you want the pain, you stupid little whore!"

   "Pl.....please give me your pain, Ma'am," I stammered.

   "I want you to really think about what we're gonna do to you, cunt. Think what it'll feel like when we rip 240 clothes pins from your filthy little body. Oh, and you should know this as well, we're posting it on the net, cunt. That's right, we're filming this. You're a fucking film star, bitch. You're gonna be fucking famous in a few minutes. 240 pins is surely going to prove to be quite a spectacle! I'll bet it's gonna go viral!"

   I was left bound to the cross shivering in pain and fear. I heard nothing, no one spoke to me.

   "Ready for it, slave," Lisa asked me at long last.

   "Y....yes, Ma'am. If......if it will please you."

    "Grab your strings ladies," Lisa ordered. " Let's show this little slave what we think of her. We'll all pull on three. Remember now, pull hard and fast. We don't want to leave any of the pins behind.

"Ready? Okay, here we go. One..........two.....................three!

   My skin was instantly on fire as all 240 clothes pins were torn from my body at once. I screamed as the pain lit up my brain and I struggled thrashing against my bondage on the cross. The women were laughing as they witnessed my suffering. Slowly, as the pain began to ease a bit, Lisa hissed in my face, "I'll send the video link to your Master, slut. I'm sure he'll be really proud of his little slave."

    "Th....thank you Ma'am," I managed to whisper.

   The only other event I can honestly remember was with the women again. It was a variation on the old children's game of the old mill. The women stood  front to back in a line, about three feet apart with their legs open wide. I was made to crawl through their legs on all fours as they spanked me. The variations came from the fact that they weren't using their hands on me. They used wooden spoons! They also targeted my thighs as much as my butt. The age old ploy of squeezing the victim between your legs, holding them locked in one spot while you paddled, was utilized quite successfully.

   That's really the extent of my recollection. At least until it was all over. I don't know if the night had grown too late,  or if they had all tired of using me, or if they had chosen to grant me mercy, (I highly doubt that last possibility!).  Anyway, I was lying in the grass, exhausted, achy and spent, when I felt a pair of hands massage my shoulders and back. The hands unzipped the zippers over my eyes, and when my vision cleared, I saw Tommy. Helping me to my feet, he said, "Thank you for your birthday gift, slave. I love you."

   He helped me into his leather motorcycle jacket and zipped it up for me. I climbed on the back of his bike, naked from the waist down! When we got home, he removed my hood, and drew my bath for me. I relaxed in the tub until the water had gotten cool. Tommy helped me out and dried me off with a soft towel. He brought me into our bedroom and said, "Kneel, slave."

   I obeyed.

   "Look at me, slave."

   I raised my head to meet his eyes.

   "You know, slave, there can be no going back now. The gift you gave me, it can't be for just a day. You realize that now, don't you? It's just the beginning, day one of a new life for us both"

   I had come to that same realization myself much earlier in the day, so I didn't need time to consider my answer. "Yes, Master. I do."

   He helped me stand up, and as we hugged each other, he said, "I love you slave."

   "I love you Master."

   As I sit here writing this all down for you, as Master ordered me to, I have but one regret. And that is that my original purpose in giving myself to Tommy as a birthday gift was to give him something special and exclusive. A gift to him. The way it turned out, however, was that my gift was just as much to me as it was to him, because now I am truly happy and have found my place in life, in servitude at his feet.

 

Author's note: I wish to thank La Crimson Femme for her encouragement and some helpful suggestions in completing this tale. C.E.C.