This Birthday Fantasy has proven to be the hardest so far to write about. Not because I don’t remember what happened. I do. Because I don’t know how to explain the depths of my mind this touched, the doors that were opened. Some can never be closed again.
I said my first Birthday Fantasy was for the submissive, my second Birthday Fantasy was for the slut, and that this year it was the masochist’s turn. Masochism isn’t always about pain.
The only way I was going to get this written was one little piece at a time. I chose #FucktoyFriday tweets. There is no way to explain. Really. This is only skimming the surface of that night.
She prepares me for the night, shaving me, stroking me. Sir watches with an evil gleam in his eye. “Make sure she’s smooth.”
“You can’t cum tonight until I do & a lot of men will fuck you first. Now sing ‘Happy Birthday to Me.'” The Hitachi clicks.
I gave up consent. No safeword. Only ‘Yes Sir.’ I’d perform for & service anyone, anywhere, he said all night. I was scared.
“Should we go to the adult theater first, or perhaps something a little more public?” he growled, fist wrapped in my hair.
“You two sluts are going to make me lots of money tonight.” I glared. A hard limit. I bit my tongue. Consensual nonconsent.
As we toured the club I was overwhelmed. So many people. Little did I know I would be a stop on the next tour 20 min later.
“A shot of Patron will boost your courage.” We sat. He spread our legs & showed our dripping cunts to all. I closed my eyes.
I open my eyes and groan, turning away. “What’s wrong slut?” “I saw them closing in.” He drags me thru the bar. They follow.
He pulls a curtain open & throws us on a mattress. The men penetrate us. The open curtain invites more in. “Make me proud.”
When I hear the tour guide “As you see some of the ladies take on several men” I cringe. I’m in public. A cock enters my ass.
“Are you enjoying a stranger’s cock? In front of all? Answer me!” Only one answer is allowed. “Yes Sir” I scream. “Whore.”
Any remaining dignity shatters. I arch, scream, & cum fucking the cock in my ass. I cum again loving the audience.
At the bar Sir & pet stroke me, spread me. So many eyes. “How are you enjoying the birthday so far?” as his fingers enter…
I resist. Too much, too many. Red. Consensual nonconsent. The hands persist. I arch back onto the bar & the orgasms roll.
I meet the eyes of a few watching me writhe. I cum more. Harder. Loudly. The cocks begin to circle again. I want all of them.
Sir grabs my hair. “Pick one.” I point to the closest man. “Take her & do what you want.” I’m dragged away. Sir doesn’t look.
The man takes me downstairs into a dark room, pulls off my dress, gropes me roughly, pins me, takes me. Rapes me. I miss Sir.
As the newest stranger slams my cunt I feel abandoned. Unwilling. Ashamed. Merely a whore. Sold property. An orgasm builds.
I exist for this man to fuck. And all others. Because Sir said so. Because I know it is true. I cum shamelessly, milking him.
I scurry back to Sir. “Good girl.” He holds me in his arms while pet dances. My legs spread. More men look. I smile at them.
Sir leads us to a room & closes the door. Quiet, private, alone except for the glass wall. “Lick her cunt until I say stop.”
With pet writhing under my tongue & fingers Sir begins to beat me. I raise my ass toward the glass wall & moan. They watch.
Finally floating out the parking garage inspires rape fantasies. Adult theater or hotel? It’s not over. It’s Sir’s turn now.
For the next two hours we are reminded who owns us & why. He shows no mercy, pounding our sore whore holes. Using us. “Mine.”
As I sit at his feet, my head on his knee, I am still twitching. I look up & smile. Thank you Sir for a wonderful birthday.