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Review This Story || Author: Charles E. Campbell

My Birthday Gift

Part 3

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.



Review This Story || Author: Charles E. Campbell
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