Giving Him The Best Birthday Gift Of All: Her Slut

The party invitation I received was different, but I had to save the date nonetheless. In fact, the date was just about the only information that I was given at that time.

Giving Him The Best Birthday Gift Of All Her SlutAs days passed and it drew nearer to the the day circled on my calendar, I was given a few more preparation instructions, but no more information. The requirements were teasing to me, but not particularly revealing. Twice a day during the seven days before the date, I was to moisturise my skin, from neck to toe, and it became a strange and intimate ritual in itself.

Two days prior, I found myself feeling self-conscious as I sat in the spa getting a manicure and pedicure. One day prior, I was glad that I had left myself plenty of time to complete the “hairless” task – it took me much longer than I’d anticipated to get my body smooth. The routine of shaving my face is so incredibly simple compared to the task of reaching and attending to so much skin – underarms, arms, chest, cock, balls, legs… it was exhausting.

I lay in bed that night feeling my soft smooth flesh so strange against the bedsheets and it took focused meditation to get me to sleep.

I was woken by the doorbell – by the time I got myself wrapped in robe to answer, there was nothing but a sealed envelope outside the door. I tore into it as soon as I was back behind my closed door. It contained a handwritten note, from Her, that was characteristically concise.

“Slut, use the kit to prepare yourself, shower, and the enclosed items are to be worn beneath that new black suit I like. Arrive at 9pm. Mistress Cara.”

Giving Him The Best Birthday Gift Of All Her SlutThe hours dragged during anticipation, as I filled my day with simple errands and chores, then flew during preparation. I was getting more practised with these home enema kits, but that experience did not lessen the mental or physical aspects of the ordeal. I took another shower, moisturised, then shaved my face once more.

The heaviest item in the package was a stainless steel plug with a pink jewelled base. With just a slight touch of lube, I wriggled it inside. I’d found that too much lube made things easier for insertion but made me too nervous about retention – even though the size of this plug made that less of an issue.

I was glad for the pedicure as I slowly and carefully stretched the elegant stockings up my bare legs. The last thing I needed was to snag them and cause a run. The garter belt was simple enough, and by the fourth garter snap, I’d gotten the hand of the hooks again.

There was a pink plastic chastity cage and tiny padlock — no key, of course — that I wrangled myself into, then tugged up the lace-trimmed sheer panties. I took a long slow look at myself in the mirror, breathing deeply, before attending to my outerwear.

It took a bit of mental discipline, but I made sure I paid no less attention to the details of the suit. I pressed everything freshly before putting it on, and it took three tries before I had a knot in my tie that I was satisfied with. I had a special billfold to hold only the minimum required, thin, so as not to ruin the lines of the jacket. Freshly shined shoes carefully slipped onto my stockinged feet, and I was ready, and off.

I’d left some extra time, in case of traffic, so I arrived early. Anticipation made the cage tight as I squirmed on the plug, circling the block a couple times before finally parking nearby.

I approached the house, just a minute or so before 8:00, and rang the bell. It’s funny how you can be surprised, even when you have no conscious idea of what you were expecting. As the door opened, I could immediately hear that the house was full of people.

Giving Him The Best Birthday Gift Of All Her SlutAs she pulled the door wide open, Mistress Cara was framed perfectly, and she looked stunning. There was a perfectly teasing amount of cleavage highlighted by her leather top, and her hips were hugged by a clingy black skirt with a wide lace trim. She stood upon knee high leather boots that brought her eyes nearly up to mine. Her hair had been newly coiffed, and the large loose black curls were intoxicating with new blood red streaks.

“Come on in, slut. You’re right on time,” she laughed. “We’re celebrating my love’s birthday.”

Her beauty is a constant, but dressed up in party clothes she looked devastating. And so as I followed her inside, I felt the ache of the tightness of the chastity cage resisting my own physical arousal.

Giving Him The Best Birthday Gift Of All Her SlutThe crowd of people, milling about the house, laughing and chatting and holding drinks, all seemed perfectly normal, like you’d see at any good house party, so the awareness of the lingerie beneath my clothes tormented my thoughts. Would they notice the pattern of the stockings at my ankles? Were these panties showing lines through my trousers? The panic only made me more aroused and warm.

I was led around, introduced to a few gathered groups of people, and at last we came across Him. Her lover. It was hard to judge with Mistress in her heeled boots, but I would have guessed that she would have still been a touch taller than him without them – but he looked strong, his confident energy overwhelming. He was handsome, of course, and his long dark hair seemed to provide the perfect frame for his steely gaze. In that moment, held a touch too long perhaps, for one man meeting another, I could see that he had the presence and power to be a match for Mistress.

I thanked him for having me over, and wished him a happy birthday. I was nervous, stumbling a bit over my words. I could tell he noticed, and I saw the knowing glance he shared with Mistress. I blushed, as I was sure he knew exactly what I was. They started to chat, and she slid against him, chatting and laughing. I thank them both again, and excused myself to get a drink.

Giving Him The Best Birthday Gift Of All Her SlutI drifted around the party, nursing my drink, making small talk as much as I could while I tried to imagine the right answer to give should I be asked how I knew the guest of honour. Somehow, “I’m his fiance’s plaything” didn’t seem an appropriate answer.

And then, without warning, Mistress was behind me. She whispered in my ear, “come with me.”

And so I followed. As she led me up the stairs, the way her skirt moved caused yet another shot of pain from my cage’s constraints. She didn’t say another word as we moved through the hallway, past a couple doors and finally through the door she opened.

Even before she turned on the light and closed the door behind us, I could tell it was their bedroom. It was simply decorated and while the large bed dominated the space, there was still enough open floor space to be of use.

“Stand there,” she said, pointing at the wall opposite the foot of the bed. And so there I stood, my back to the wall.

Giving Him The Best Birthday Gift Of All Her SlutShe approached me, loosened my tie and opened the collar of my shirt. I didn’t move or speak. She secured a wide leather collar around my neck and with a short length of chain and two padlocks, locked me via the collar to a metal ring that I had not previously noticed mounted to the wall. Next she cuffed my wrists together with simple metal handcuffs. She moved off to the side, and returned with a length of wide pink, lace-trimmed satin fabric. With a wicked smile and a laugh she fashioned a large pink bow around my neck.

She stood back, admiring her handiwork. I heard a sound from her that was like a lioness purring, deep and hungry.

“You’re going to be one of the best things I’ve ever given him,” she cooed. And then she was gone, back to the party, turning out the light as she closed the door.

And so I was trapped, feeling the realisation of what was happening slowly sinking in. As my eyes became accustomed to the dim light of streetlights filtered through window shades, I took in my situation. The chain linking my collar to the wall behind me was long enough for me to move perhaps a couple feet from where I stood, but there was nothing of consequence within that reach.

I could hear the sounds of music and laughter and conversation filtering up from below as well. Of course, no-one here knew me enough to miss my presence downstairs. I tried to make out individual voices or snippets of conversation to help pass the time, but it was just that bit too distant from the world where I was currently held.

In time, the voices quieted and the music was silenced. My senses strained at the sensations of whispers and footsteps closer to the bedroom door.

“Your present is right in here, my love,” her voice purred, as the door opened again at last, the light from the hallway spilling in. My heart was pounding as she brought the overhead lights up and led him inside. He looked at me with a kind of bemused recognition at first, and then smile changed.

Mistress guided him to the end of the bed and they sat opposite me, as though inspecting me from an observational distance.

“Happy birthday, Sir,” I stammered.

Mistress rose, coming close to me just to release my wrists from the cuffs.

“Remove your costume, slave,” she commanded.

Giving Him The Best Birthday Gift Of All Her SlutIt was a bit awkward with the restraint of the collar limiting my mobility, but piece by piece I began to strip. My jacket, my tie, my shoes, my trousers, my shirt, and with item the flush on my cheeks grew warmer and redder. I lifted my eyes once more, standing there in just the lingerie and collar, still wrapped with the pink bow.

He rose, stepping close to me, pulling back my panties to have a look at my caged cock, which was shamefully leaking, marking my panties.

He turned back to Mistress. “All mine?”

“All yours,” she confirmed.

He grabbed the front of my collar and tugged downward. I felt his strength as I was pushed down to my knees. By the time I looked up he had already opened his black jeans and pulled himself out of his underwear. His erection was growing already.

He pushed two fingers into mouth and forced my jaw open.

“Make it good, whore.”

He rammed his cock into my mouth. I knew better than to disappoint him or Mistress, so I put my lessons to work as best I could, though this was different than any theory. He was firm, warm, thick and he was jabbing towards my throat almost angrily.

I reached my hands up to the base of his shaft, stroking and squeezing him, as I tried to make some use of my tongue and lips, sucking and turning my head. He groaned and grunted and I moaned and gasped. At times I was fighting my gag reflex, and at others I was struggling to get breath.

I felt my drool building, oozing out over my lower lip and out the corners of my mouth. My jaw felt so widely forced open. I felt his use bruising my lips, making them feel swollen already. Somewhere, beyond the sounds of his cock wetly fucking my mouth, I could hear Mistress laughing and urging him on.

He just seemed to be getting bigger inside my mouth. More and more he drove further, deeper, until my hands were mostly useless, though I tried to make some point of them, massaging his balls when I could. Mostly I became just a mouth, a wet hole, moaning and sucking as he pounded faster and deeper, pushing the back of my head against the wall as he drove into the tightness of my throat. He may have spared a few thoughts of Mistress enjoying the show, but precious few of me.

He was starting to pause his thrusts, holding himself inside me at the full depth. I could feel my lips reaching the base of his cock, and I thought I could also feel him twitch. The pauses, with him so deep and full inside me, became ultimate tests of my ability to resist my reflex to gag. His groans seemed to become grunts as well, and then, without warning, he was cumming. His hips drove against me, pushing the warm gooey jizz down my throat. He was still cumming as he slowed, drawing back just enough to encourage me to suck and lick him clean.

Popping free of my mouth, he wiped off the remaining wetness against my cheeks. I was panting, drooling now that my mouth was empty, kneeling on the floor, and well used.

He was done with me for now, but not done. Behind him, Mistress had stripped out of most of her clothing, though I noticed the boots were still on when I felt the strength to lift my head. She pulled him to the bed, laying him down, his head at the foot of the bed, so she could straddle him while still facing me.

“Hands on your head,” she hissed at me, and she lifted herself up to take him inside her. He pulled her down with hands on her upper thighs, and there was pure joyful malice in her eyes as she become the bull rider to his bull. His hands were all over her beautiful body and her sounds of ravaged pleasure filled my ears, hitting me like a slap, again and again.

It was agony, feeling my cage hold me tight, fighting the attempts of my body to get hard, when all I could do was further leak and stain my panties.

They were like animals together. Bucking and rolling, grinding and swaying. Her hands were all over her own body and his, and his reached up in turn to hold and squeeze and paw at her. It was loud and rough and sweaty and sexual beyond restraint.

I watched, entranced and suffering. Aching physically and emotionally. In time, I know not how much, Her screams reached a new crescendo, and he pulled her down against as him as they came together.

After the panting slowly became breathing again, I heard him speak first.

“Free him,” he commanded, and Mistress stumbled over, legs appearing unsteady, to release my collar from the chain. I didn’t dare look Her in the eye as his power over the entire scene was made to clear.

“Get over here and suck me clean, slave,” he commanded, spreading his legs as lay back on the bed, his body glossy with sweat.

I scrambled over and I knelt over him, taking his still hard shaft back in my mouth, licking and sucking and lapping up the taunting mixture of their juices. My hands on him to make sure I reached it all.

By the time as he was clean, he was hard again. Mistress pushed me to the side and down, positioning my ass over the edge of the bed. He laughed as she pointed out my plug to him before popping it out.

Giving Him The Best Birthday Gift Of All Her SlutI gasped as I felt him behind me, filling my ass and stretching me wide. He was just as merciless, if not more so, this time, driving my body into the bed, fucking me hard and deep.

Mistress chose to pull her soaked panties back on and She knelt over my face, finding a way to trap my wrists under her knees. She started to grind on top of me, using the contours of my face for sensation and pleasure – as much my nose as my outstretched tongue and chin.

He seemed on a roll, or I was losing track of myself and time, as he seemed to cum relatively quickly. I felt the warm jizz inside me, unable to see a thing beneath Mistress. Once again I heard Her laugh as she slid off my soaked face and sealed his load inside me, pushing the plug back in place.

I was cuffed once more, this time with my hands behind me, and chained to the wall once more. My cock strained painfully in the cage and all I could smell were the juices drying on my face. They kept on, ignoring me other than her occasional glances, all knowing smiles at the face that I couldn’t keep my eyes off Her, off them. He took her roughly, over and over, like he was forcing orgasms and pleasure and screams out of her as I watched.

The room was thick with sex when they finally drifted to sleep, with their bodies wrapped around each other. In turn, I was able to drift into a kind of sleep slumped against the wall.

Her soft motion woke me, and in the dim light of morning I was freed from the collar and the cuffs, allowed to quickly redress and take my walk of personal shame back to my car, not allowed to remove a stitch of lingerie, or the plug, until I was home.

– Edward Cantor

Giving Him The Best Birthday Gift Of All Her Slut

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About the author:

Edward Cantor is a semi-professional author of primarily fetish erotica and a submissive with too many kinks to count. He lives in Toronto, which is in Canada. All he really wants is a life dedicated to the pleasure and amusement of those he serves, and he got another fetish while you were reading this.

You can buy Window Shopping here or you can read his mix of personal musings and short fiction here.

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