A Birthday Fantasy Come True

(This is how I met Sir. I had arranged for a stranger to kidnap and rape me as a birthday present to myself.)



Dear Sir,


This is my homework assignment for what I liked or didn’t like and why. This is definitely more interesting than my school homework. And I will do my best to come up with things that I did not like, but as I start this I still can’t think of any.

I felt very awkward walking up the ramp to the ferry on the way over. My skirt kept riding up, and the plug you ordered me to wear kept feeling like it might slip out. I am used to not wearing underwear, but not in a skirt, and my freshly shaved pussy was very sensitive to every movement. I was very glad it was cool enough for me to wear my jacket. If it had been summer, I think I might have chickened out and disobeyed you. Even though we had been talking for a few weeks, I was still very scared. I am not exactly sure of what, but my adrenaline level was so high I was noticing my heart rate and breathing were way up. I was not even able to eat earlier that day from all the butterflies in my stomach. I felt like I was very flushed and that anyone that looked at me might think I was on the verge of a panic attack. I am the type to face my fears, though, and fear was supposed to be a part of what I was walking in to. So I tried to keep my outward appearance calm, and picked a seat on the ferry up front. I made sure there was another row of seats in front of me because every time I sat down or moved my legs my skirt would ride up more. I was very wet, and the crotchless fishnets were not going to help provide any privacy. No matter how I sat my jacket opened so there I was squirming in my chair, with my thighs pressed together over bare skin, sitting on a butt plug. Very embarrassing, very uncomfortable, and very exciting.

When I saw you waiting on the ramp, I know you saw my big grin. When you grabbed me right there in front of everyone and pushed me up against the wall, one hand in my hair and the other on my throat, I loved it. My fear level shot straight up again, but I probably would have let you do anything to me right there.

At the van you opened my coat and pulled up my skirt and started finger fucking me. I was so wet. I didn’t care if anyone saw. When you said “Get in the van, but don’t turn around” I did start to panic. I knew once I got in I would be completely powerless. It actually took a lot of effort to get in and not look back.

“Take off your jacket and come back here.” I don’t think I had even completely turned around before you had me down on the floor pinning me with your body. I had actually planned to resist, at least a little, but I did not have any resistance in me. I know you were talking to me and I was answering while you put on the wrist and ankle cuffs and chained me to the floor, and you were hurting me a little keeping me down, but in my head I was wondering why I found all of it so very comforting. If I could have, I would have been purring. I actually began to relax.

Your paddle put an end to that quite quickly, but when you started to ram your cock down my throat I relaxed enough to have that damned plug slip out. I was trying so hard not to let it slide out, but the more I tried to hold it, the more it slipped out. Of course that meant more paddling, and I knew you were going to fuck my ass.

I was ready for it to hurt, and it did just a little at first, but I got into it very quickly. Here I was chained to the floor of a van being raped in the ass brutally by a man I just met, and we hadn’t even left the ferry parking lot yet. I am very surprised no one came over. I had to have been making some noise. You finished, rammed the plug back in, and got up. I felt very used, and I know I was probably grinning. I remember saying “By the way, nice to meet you, Sir.”

When the van started and Van Halen’s “Running With the Devil” started up, I almost laughed. It seemed appropriate, and I will never be able to hear that song again without smiling to myself. That really was the longest ride ever after that. I am glad you drove carefully because even though you could have rolled the van and I would have been safer chained to the floor than seat belted, it really would have been hard to explain to the police if you were stopped. It seemed like every time I just got comfortable and relaxed again, there would be another damned stoplight! I was really starting to dislike that paddle, and hate stoplights. And then the damn plug started slipping out again. My muscles were stretched out now, and I don’t think I have ever tried so hard to keep something in my ass, but I couldn’t. I was hoping I would not get in too much trouble, and I knew we would be stopping the van soon, so my fear level started to go back up again. I was going to call it anxiety, but it was fear. I knew from your pictures some of the equipment you had, and I started to worry I would not like something but be unable to get away. I had one friend who knew the address you sent me, but he would not react unless he didn’t hear from me by late Sunday night. It was still early Saturday afternoon. If I ever decide to do something this risky again, I need to remember to arrange an earlier “check-in” time.

I am very glad your neighbors were not out when you had me walk out of it. My dress was barely hanging on, and my coat only covers a little. You took my coat inside, and I almost didn’t want to let it go. I felt very exposed and knew better than to try and pull up my dress zipper. The sitting down, relaxing, and talking part actually surprised me. I was almost about ready to tell you that for a minute I had even forgotten the real reason I was there when you ordered me to stand up. After I was naked and re-cuffed, I could not forget why I was there. Laying across your lap and being spanked and fingered was a big turn on. But I know you could tell. You kept calling me slut, and I am.

Being placed in the submissive position, cuffs behind my back, blindfolded, collared, leashed, and being led into your dungeon was scary again. I was now horny as hell, afraid, and helpless. Awesome combination! When you started to chain me to the St. Andrew’s cross, I almost stopped you. Every logical part of my brain was screaming at me. But the slut part of me kept me standing there passively allowing myself to be spread eagled and secured. I wanted more! I got more. I start to really lose my details at this point. I have just fragments of memory because I just let myself go. I remember being flogged with that Hitachi vibe just under me. I learned very quickly that if I rode the vibe, the flogger didn’t hurt. Perhaps you can fill me in on the details here. I love that vibrator!

After that being chained to the bed by my arms with my legs cuffed to a spreader bar attached to the ceiling was very enjoyable. My wrists had starting hurting on the cross I guess from my body arching. And in the position you had me in it was easier to relax my throat for you to fuck. Was this when the crop came out? I don’t remember. I have seen the pictures you took, but they really did not help with the details. I swear after walking into that room, all I have is bits and pieces of memory. I remember you ordering food. Was I coherent enough to tell you what I wanted? Oh yes, I do remember only being able to go “Mmmm” because my mouth was full of cock yet again. I think I was laying on the bed on my stomach at that time. I remember being tormented and fucked again before the world’s fastest delivery guy showed up. I hoped you would not remember your threat of having me get it naked in collar and cuffs. Then you put me on the floor face down with all four cuffs attached under me and left me there. It might have been thirty seconds, or thirty minutes. I had lost all sense of time. But I was content, and drifted off. Not sleeping, just took a mental vacation.

I think that was without a doubt the best Chinese food I have ever eaten. I was starving! It felt very odd sitting there having dinner with a leash on. After I cleaned up the dishes and put away the leftovers, you allowed me to go smoke a cigarette. While I was out in the garage, I heard four car doors slam and an alarm being set. It sounded like it was right outside in your driveway. I wondered if you had decided to carry out your threat of the gang rape. I don’t know if you noticed, but when I came back in, I was listening very hard and looking around for others.

You were just sitting in your chair by that nice fire, and I knew where my mouth was supposed to be. Except for the fact that I kept expecting others to walk in and attack me, I was very happy sucking you. And you seemed very happy as well. You kept reminding me who was in charge, though, because I had told you I needed reminding.

Why is it that whenever we went into the dungeon, my memory leaves? I remember the cane, though. I remember you telling me to breathe. I remember cuming more, but I can’t remember how. You told me I had done very well. And apparently you took photos of my marks. And then after that we went to sleep. Was there more I lost here?

I woke up early. At first I was confused about where I was, but just for a second. I got up to use the restroom, and thought about taking a shower, but that would have required removing the cuffs and collar. You had told me I would be punished severely if I did that, and I really had no desire to find out what that meant. I went to the kitchen to make your coffee, since you had told me I must serve it to you in bed. I wanted to have it ready when you asked for it. I also looked for what I would need to make your shrimp omlette. I went to the garage and smoked, then brushed my teeth, and quietly curled back up next to you. I think I drifted back to sleep until you grabbed my hair and pulled me down to your cock. “Slut gets her breakfast.” After you were done using my mouth, I was glad I had your coffee ready. I was hoping it would not be too bad because I didn’t want to get paddled for not being a coffee drinker. Down to the kitchen, back up with the tray and mouth full of cock again until your football game started.

After asking how many eggs you wanted in your omlette, I went to make it. It felt weird. I am used to having men cook for me. After I screwed up the first omlette, I was glad I had thawed out enough shrimp for two. You never told me to make one for myself, and I didn’t ask. Next time I will check first. I did better with the second and brought them out. Shrimp omlettes are pretty good. I had never had one before. I think that anything would have tasted good, though. I was starving again.

After the dishes were cleared, I started to go out to smoke. That’s when I found out the difference between sensual paddling and disciplinary paddling! I had forgotten to ask permission. I was very glad after that I hadn’t slipped the cuffs and collar off earlier to shower! I wouldn’t call the paddling for forgetting to ask to go out severe punishment, but I did not want to find out what your definition of severe was.

I came back in, knelt, and started sucking again. I have never listened to a football game with a mouth full of cock. You pointed out that I probably had cock in my mouth more in my time there than anyone else in the Seattle area, and I think I would have to agree. It was nice watching you enjoy it though. That is one of those things I have always loved to do.

I finally asked permission to take a shower. I was feeling pretty dirty in more ways than one. You said “Before your birthday spankings?” and I told you I would do as I was told. My ass was still tender from the day before, and my punishment that morning, and I don’t think I would have reminded you it was my birthday if you had forgotten. I was taken back upstairs not knowing if I was getting a shower or spanking. You surprised me by fucking me. Trust me, Sir, I am not complaining! I was placed in the slave position again and my cuffs were removed. I don’t know if you noticed my ass was hovering a little above the floor instead of sitting when you removed them from my ankles. My ass hurt. The hot water ran out about halfway through my shower, so any relief I was getting from that was gone and I finished quickly. Back down again to have the cuffs replaced.

I watched you move the spanking horse in place and started to get nervous again. One swat for each year from all of your toys. I saw part of your closet, Sir. You have a lot of toys. Why did I tell how old I was turning? You asked if I needed to be restrained, and I was being very honest when I said “I don’t know, Sir”. You decided for me and hooked my legs to the horse, secured my cuffs behind my back, and pulled a chain out to attach my arms to the hook in the ceiling. With my arms pulled up like that and bent over, I was not going anywhere. One way or another, I definitely was not going to forget this birthday!

I know this where you want me to tell you which of your toys I liked, and which I did not. I do not think I am going to be able to do as good of a job as you would like here, Sir. I did not see the toys you were using at the time, and did not know I was going to have to critique them. I will do the best I can.

I was kind of hoping I would be able to drift away into my own place during the spankings, but then you told me I had to count each stroke aloud and say “Thank you, Sir” after every five. Swat. “One”. I know they first was some sort of double leather strap, only because you told me. It was quite loud, and I know I must have jumped a lot. I kept counting and at each five remembered to thank you. Then you stopped. I felt your hands all over me and in me, and it felt so nice even though my skin was burning. I relaxed and enjoyed the pleasure you were giving me. Swat.

Oh no! I kept counting and thanking you, resenting you for stopping those wonderful feelings. Each time you would stop, I would feel grateful and wanted you to fuck me hard, but then you would start again. “Fourty Three”. You stopped again and began all of those nice things again. I had to ask to cum, and I did. You said “No” and followed with another blow. “One?” I don’t know if you heard the question in my voice, but I was very confused and angry. I wanted to cum so bad! Was this a punishment for something, or was this a new toy? You didn’t say anything, just chuckled. Swat. “Two”. I do not remember the order of the toys, and can not tell you which one this was. Each break to torment me was driving me insane! It felt so good after the pain. But I was starting to mess up in my counting. Each time the blows started again, I was less sure of the number I was supposed to say. So far thanking you after each five was still easy, though. I can count by fives. I was so caught up in trying to get off during the breaks I hadn’t noticed that the swats were not stinging as much. Well, most of them weren’t. You would always bring me to the edge on the breaks, but not let me sneak an orgasm in. Damn you! And you kept changing the intensity and location of the blows so I could not get used to them. I know I was using all of my muscles because my arms and legs were very sore the next day. I could hear the leather of the cuffs creaking.

Was it on the third or fourth toy I started to lose my fives, Sir? At first I would catch myself and you would laugh, but then I missed one completely. “Thirty Six. Thank you, Sir”. Ouch! It was around this same time I completely lost the number I was on during one of those breaks. I was so caught up in my own frustration that when you started again, I had absolutely no clue where to start. I thought it was probably in the twenties, so I said “Twenty Two”. Either I guessed right, you didn’t catch it, or I guessed low and had just given myself extra spankings. After that, though, I was not going to forget again. I would remember the count and my fives no matter what distraction you gave me. Awfully proud thought for a naked woman completely bound and being beaten. Now each time you began to torment me I kept repeating the next number over and over in my head. I fought against the sensation, waiting for it to end. I wanted the next swat so I could continue my count.

Everything had gone completely topsy-turvy in my head. Definitely one hell of a mind fuck, there! I started to hate the pleasure because I was going to lose my number. I think this was during the buggy whip. I did not know that’s what it was at the time, but that little whistling sound was fascinating me, and when it hit, it felt like I was being cut with a knife. Very intense, but the pain spread out quickly into a warm sensation. I know somewhere in there was your wooden paddle. I can see why you would use it for punishment. The blows felt like being hit with a two by four, and hurt very deeply. Repeated blows in the same area became numb, though. I did not like that one.

So there I was counting away and hoping you would not stop hitting me, cursing you when you gave me pleasure. The blows weren’t hurting anymore. Well, most weren’t.

Every now and then you would hit much harder. I kept my count no matter what. I was doing very well ignoring your hands on the breaks. My skin was on fire. And then you brought out the big black paddle. I felt the swats, but they were not getting through to me. I was actually starting to enjoy the sensation. That’s when you stopped and really began to torment me. I do not remember what you did, but I had every defense I could muster up against losing count, and you got past them. I know you were fucking me. I felt myself giving in, and I did not want to. I started to get very close to cuming in spite of myself. I gave up and asked to be allowed to cum. “Yes you may”. Did you even get to finish that sentence?

I came very, very hard. I almost wanted to cry after, though. We were not up to fourty three, but I had completely lost my place in the count. I told you that then. I fully expected some punishment or at least starting the count over with that toy. You laughed and told me my number, and continued. The swats were actually feeling very nice in my afterglow, and I did not want you to stop. I know I was messing up my count after that, but I did not care. You didn’t say anything, though. “Fourty-Three”.

You started to unhook my arms and I was very confused. That wasn’t all your toys. I did not want you to stop. I wanted more sensation. Just when it was feeling good you stopped. I couldn’t really tell you that then, though. I remember you laying me down and covering me up. I don’t remember much else that you said or did. I know I wasn’t saying much, or even moving. How long was I laying there? Did I say anything? What have I forgotten?

All too soon, for me at least, I got up. I could have easily gone to sleep, but I had to go to the bathroom.

Then it was time for me to bathe you, and I was very happy to do so. I am sorry the water cooled so quickly, though. I needed to get home after that, and after you dropped me off at the ferry, I was still in my happy little world. I did not sit on the ferry, though, even though I was wearing slacks. My ass was on fire. Even sitting on the cushioned seat of my truck was very uncomfortable. Not painful, but I knew that it would be later.

On my way home and later talking with a friend on the computer, I was so exhausted my eyes kept rolling back. But I could not sleep. My body was beat, literally, but my brain would not let me sleep. And my hands kept finding their way down to my pussy. I remember being up until after 4 am. Good thing I was off the next day until school in the evening.

The next morning my backside was very colorful and every muscle in my body hurt like hell. I was walking through the kitchen after a drink on my way back to bed when I saw my schedule on the fridge. 8:45! Crap! I was opening and there was no one I could call to cover me. I made it to work and was busy from the moment the door opened. Every movement was torture, and sounds kept coming out of me from the pain. But I still smiled even as I winced. That is going down as the best birthday weekend ever!
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