tagBDSMHappy Birthday, Amelia! Ch. 01

Happy Birthday, Amelia! Ch. 01


Amelia was kindly asked to dress in something very formal; it was her birthday after all. So her favorite "little black dress" and sexiest heels were chosen, laid out, and accessorized until she had just the right compliment to the outfit. A simple string of pearls was all that was deemed necessary. After all, wasn't it him that said, "You're the most beautiful creature, Amelia, there's not a jewel or gold bauble that could improve you"?

So in the hot shower, she scrubbed, shaved, and washed everything. Who knew where tonight's adventure led? It was always something interesting. And a birthday warranted something that even she couldn't predict.

In the car, he was silent. A small bag on the back seat was placed prominently, clearly an enticement that was meant to garner a question about its contents, but she knew better than to ask. Perhaps it was nothing. Perhaps she was going to a simple soiree with hors d'oeuvres and champagne, a small gathering of friends who would toast her good health and wish her a happy birthday, or something completely different. She couldn't tell. She never could tell.

In a large home, they were handed from the car and ushered inside and then to a large room silently. All the guests were apparently in attendance already and all deferred to him and looked at her with knowing smiles, gleaming eyes, and wicked anticipations. She was excited and trying to remain calm and appear dignified. She was unfortunately painfully aware of her pointed nipples trying to tear through the fabric of her top. Her body was never subtle in its reactions despite her demeanor never betraying her inner cravings.

Everyone was dressed in formal wear and black and white were clearly the colors of the night. In fact, there was no other color in evidence on anyone. Sure, there were diamonds and gold on the ladies, similar colors on the watches of the men, and the obligatory red lipstick on the lips of each beautiful woman, but for clothes, there was nothing but black or white from the shoes all the way to the topmost piece of clothing. She was quiet, anticipatory, and slightly anxious about what might be coming.

And then he led her to the center of the room. The crowd parted and seemed to form a sort of semi circle. Most milled around in anticipation but six couples, clearly predesignated for the purpose, moved to form a twenty foot wide circle around her. Each man was with a woman who stood still while he moved behind his partner.

Amelia watched; the strange ritual promised to be exciting and she felt like time had stopped. She screamed inwardly for it to go faster because not knowing what was next was killing her. The couple directly in front of her line of sight locked eyes with her. The woman was a younger girl that Amelia knew and the man was her long time boyfriend. His hands worked behind her and as he unzipped her dress, it fell away, exposing her naked body beneath. Twin pierced nipples jutted from her milky breasts and he reached around her to hook a clip on a chain to one nipple ring, then ran the chain up and over her neck, and then fed it back down along her elegant collarbone to her other breast where he clipped the end to the free nipple ring. The chain was too short and dragged at the tender flesh, forcing her breasts to pull upwards. Her eyelids sagged at the sensation and her partner touched her shoulder and she moved to her knees before him. She held her position, head bowed, hands open, knees together, and waited.

Movement to her right attracted Amelia's attention and she turned to see a very tall redhead that she'd only spoken to in passing once. Her dress in turn fell to the ground and exposed a rust colored tuft of pubic hair above her vagina and huge, freckled breasts topped with the delicate strawberry colored puffs of her nipples. Her patent black leather heels were impossibly tall and exaggerated her already incredible height. Her partner--a man that Amelia had never seen before--opened a small bag and removed a very long length of rope. In actuality, it was a quarter inch wide continuous strip of cowhide. He moved around in front of her and began winding it around the base of her right breast. Ten, twelve, fourteen turns around it and then he moved to her left breast and did the same thing, It distended her breasts and purpled them; the redhead actually winced once as he rounded the breast and he stopped and shared a look with her. She lowered her eyes and did not make another noise. When he was done, she had two breasts that looked like they might explode, so tight were they. The one or two feet of extra leather that was left was not bothered with. He did not tie it, but instead, offered the last of the length to her mouth and she opened and then closed her teeth on it obediently. She lowered her head and knelt.

A petite blond was to the right and Amelia turned to watch her dress fall. She was shaved smooth, had beautiful breasts, and a sexy, flat stomach. The man's bag opened and its contents were removed one by one. A ball gag was inserted tightly into her mouth, her nipples were tightly clamped, and a leather belt was hung around her waist with a flogger hanging by a small ring on the right side. She was helped to kneel by the stout man behind her.

The next two girls were identical twins and their "handlers" stripped them and confined them at the same time. Both girls smiled at Amelia since she knew them both. The first girl was tied tightly so that her arms were behind her and immobile. The other sister was simply allowed to kneel but she did so with her palms up. The man with her placed a thin, wooden cane across her open palms and she made an audible gasp when she realized what it was. Her man instantly grabbed her hair and directed her face up towards his and he stared her down. They held their gaze for roughly five seconds and apparently, he decided that he'd made his point and released her hair. Her head immediately went back to the submissive posture that she should have silently held in the first place.

The final woman was easily twenty years older than the oldest of the other five submissives. Her handler dropped her wrap, unbuttoned her dress, and allowed it all to fall away at once. It was as if a cherished possession was being shown to outsiders for the first time. She actually stood stock still holding a confident smile as her over fifty year old body was revealed. She knew from long hours of exercise how well toned she was and simply stood in her heels and watched as all eyes in the room took in her high, natural breasts, slim and well formed legs, and flat stomach. Her vagina was shaved perfectly smooth to show the tiniest of heart tattoos right above where her slit started.

Wordlessly, she bent over without bending her knees. Her hands slid down her smooth legs, over her knees, and to her ankles. Each beautiful hand wrapped around an ankle. Her back remained straight as did her legs. The young man behind her--for she was into men young enough to be her son--stepped back, inspected her from behind, moved to the side and inspected the straightness of her back and legs, and then returned to a position behind her.

Six women, all in a submissive pose, all waiting for something. But Amelia didn't know what. As she wondered what was next, she felt his hands at her back. From her waist, his fingers traced her sensitive spine and upon finding that she wore no bra, he whispered, "Good Girl." His fingers continued up to her neckline and caught at her long braided hair. A sharp tug controlled her head and forced her to look up. Two ropes hung from the ceiling, one of which was being lowered towards her. The ends of it were unbraided and appeared quite sloppy in a room where everything else seemed so well ordered. Behind her, he worked and she wondered quietly what was happening.

The other occupants of the room however, were watching intently as he worked. The open braids of the rope were being expertly braided into her hair. He'd undone the plaits of her long braid and was using his whip making skills to weave them together with the rope. She felt what was happening, but was unsure what was going on other than that she was the center of attention.

Once the connection was secured, she felt the weight of her hair leave her head. The rope above her was pulled up just enough to lift the heavy hair from her back. And then, she felt the zipper of her dress being pulled down. A moment of trepidation almost made her change her mind, but she steeled herself and held still. Was she attractive enough to be nude in front of these people? Fit enough? Would they be pleased? "Oh, God, what is happening?" her mind screamed.

And so she was nude but for her heels and pearls in the middle of a circle of other nude women. Men in tuxedos quietly stood and watched and other women exchanged appreciative looks at what they could see. The rope above her pulled higher and the long pony tail pulled at the base of her head, forcing her face to look downward. To her left, at waist height, he held the back seat bag. Slowly, so as to draw it out, he undid the drawstring. Something weighty lay in the bottom; she could tell by the way the bag moved as his hands worked. She tried to watch, but the rope pulling her hair confined her head to staring straight down and only seeing what was placed in front of her eyes.

And from between her legs, she saw a pair of shoes. Women's shoes. Someone knelt behind her and wrapped Velcro straps around her ankles. A long spreader bar was lain between her feet on the floor and the long, elegant hands of the kneeling woman pulled her feet farther apart until there was room for the spreader bar. The left side was attached to a small ring and the woman whispered, "Amelia, move the right foot outward...now!" When she hesitated, the woman's hand grabbed the ankle and forced it.

Amelia didn't think she could hold the position so wide were her legs and so high were the heels on her shoes. But the rope above her was tightened further, stretching her from her wide spread feet to the top of her head. She felt her hands being restrained at her sides and her "capture" was complete...or so she thought.

In this standing, spread legged position, hair held tightly above her head and forcing her face to look down, she felt a cold sensation on her shoulder and then down her back. The other rope was being lowered and its metal attachment was chilly on her nervous, naked skin. He moved back into her view; the tops of his dress shoes almost reflecting the obscene view of her legs and pussy from the floor.

Finally, Dave spoke: "One word, Amelia. Do you trust me?"

His hand was in the bag, she was in no position to argue any point, and she was excited and scared beyond belief at what her "birthday present" might be. The thought process that forced her to answer with only word--without saying "Sir"--caused her a moment's hesitation and the hands holding her ankles tightened almost imperceptibly: a warning to answer quickly.

"Yes," she whispered and the hand came out of the bag. It was if it would have happened no matter what she answered yet he just wanted to reassure her that he was there, would watch out for her, and that she was his, and cherished...and that he needed her to acknowledge with that simple affirmative answer that she understood all this.

In his hand was a gold-plated anal hook with an impossibly large ball. He spoke again, revealing to her who was kneeling behind her, "Mary, would you please insert this so the party can begin...?"

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