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Review This Story || Author: Charles E. Campbell

My Birthday Gift

Part 1


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?"

   "," 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.

Review This Story || Author: Charles E. Campbell
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