Her Birthday

"Get to work," she said, and he knew exactly what she was telling him to do. Swinging the leash around so that it hung down his back, he sat down on the side of the bed, reaching over to the cart. Dipping his hands into the bowl of warm oil, he cupped them gently, taking a small amount and letting it drip over her back. She breathed in slightly as the first drops hit between her shoulder blades, but she relaxed and the rest dripped down her spine, finishing with the top of her ass.

He rubbed his oil-covered hands over her ass and up both sides, massaging and kneading over the entirety of her back. He went slowly, rubbing each and every inch over her back and shoulders, down her sides, getting each arm, taking great care to be strong but soft, and to not miss a single spot. He massaged over her ass, neither avoiding it, but not treating it with any special attention, moving on down her beautiful thighs and the backs of her legs. He rubbed her feet, paying close attention to the balls, the heels, and even her ankles, trying to rub but not tickle. Moving back up her body, he rolled his hands kneading her soft yet firm muscles like dough, not roughly but with strong smooth movements.

During the massage, she stretched and moaned underneath his care, sensually wiggling her hips and ass as she enjoyed his attentions. He could feel the tension drain from her body, the stress running out of her muscles. Neither said a single word as he worked, but both his hands and her body were in sync. His hands knew what needed to be done.

When he was finished, she stretched one last time, extending her arms, fingers, legs and toes to their fullest extent, and he could almost feel the relaxation exude from her. As he took a towel from the small cart and began to wipe the excess off of his hands, she turned over, still slightly stretching, with a huge smile on her face. Sitting up, she almost looked as if she didn't want to proceed from there, but she took a deep breath and swung her legs over him, sitting herself at the side of the bed next to him. Reaching over to the nearest side table, she opened the single small drawer there, pulling out a black handkerchief.

"Hold still," she said, and got onto her knees. He sat with his hands on his lap, facing straight towards the opposite wall, as she positioned herself behind him. She rolled the cloth into a long cylinder and brought it over his head, covering his eyes. Tying it loosely at the back, she asked him, "Can you see?"

"No, ma'am," he said quietly, truthfully. He felt her move away from him and off the bed. He sat patiently, waiting her next command. It wasn't long in coming.

"Get on your hands and knees." He turned around and crawled up onto the bed, moving himself so he was facing the head. Settling himself on his hands and knees, he adjusted as she proceeded to spread his legs slightly farther. There he was, completely nude except for a collar and leash, on his hands and knees on a bed, being completely controlled by a nude blonde woman, on display to the world.

He heard her step around the side of the bed and open the drawer on the other side table. There was a scraping sound as she pulled a few items out, but he couldn't tell what they were. He could feel the bed shift slightly as she set them down, and she ran her fingers playfully through his hair.

"You are mine tonight." This was not a question, but a statement of fact. She didn't seem to want an answer, so he remained silent. "You must do everything I say. You must endure whatever I ask. You are mine." The word 'endure' stuck in his head for a moment, but he was distracted as she took her hand back and moved. Blindfolded, he couldn't tell where.

He heard a squelching sound as if she was trying to get mustard out of a bottle, and then he felt her slide her hands over his butt. They were covered in slippery oil. She massaged a little of the excess into his cheeks, but then she moved between them. With skill and precision, she began to work the oil over his ass; occasionally slipping a finger in, making sure all was well lubricated.

His dick strained against its entrapment. They had played a little bit like this, but it was always for a short period, and not that often. It was one of his own dark little secrets that no one else knew about, and now the entire world could watch through the window.

He leaned into her hand a bit, trying to encourage her a bit, but the only thing that resulted was a hard slap on the butt.

"No," she said firmly, "This is for me." She was silent for a moment before she continued. "You do remember about this being for me, right?" Her tone was solid but teasing slightly.

She spread his cheeks a bit, and he almost gasped as she slowly eased something cylindrical into him. It was slightly cold and solid, but he couldn't quite make out what it was. She stuck it there and left it. He could feel his ass gripping it hard, but it didn't slip in any way.

She laughed slightly, and then said, "It is my birthday after all." It was the way she said it that struck him. She was doing something, but was keeping it a mystery from him. Her hands left him, and he stayed there, on his hands and knees, with who knows what sticking out of his butt.

She opened something in a jar, with the lid popping as she broke the seal, and from the slopping sound, it sounded thick as she poured it. She resealed the jar, and he felt her as she leaned on the foot of the bed, moving something between his knees. Then he felt something both unexpected and interesting. She had poured something into a bowl, and was now, gently, dipping his rock hard cock and his balls into whatever it was. He could even feel her weight on the bed as she lowered the bowl, keeping it underneath for a moment, apparently to catch any stray drops, before removing it.

Then, all became clear.

There was a slight scratching sound, followed by a quiet 'whoosh'. He couldn't see it, but he could smell the slightly sulfurous odor coming off the match. IT WAS A CANDLE! HE went completely still, knowing that the candle sticking deep inside of him was now lit. He could hear the wick as it sizzled a little bit, burning down the wick until the wax melted enough to fuel the flame. Trying to be as stone-like as possible, he kept from moving. She didn't help much.

She began to sing quietly to herself. "Happy birthday to me." As she sung, he felt her come down again on the foot of the bed, between his feet. "Happy birthday to me." She was almost giggling. It felt as if she was lying on the edge of the bed, scooting her way under him. "Happy birthday to meeee." SHE WAS! She stopped directly below his groin, below HIM. Between the verses, he could still hear the candle. "Happy birthday to me."

With the final word, she gripped his lower back, pulled herself up, and licked his cock, from balls to tip, in one, long, slow, smooth stroke. He heard her smack her lips before she moved again, licking a different part of his package. She was licking whatever she had dipped him in off. He felt her as she moved her hand, and she touched a finger to his abdomen, just behind his cock. Adjusting and stretching her arm, her hand came up, stopping just below his face.

"Stick out your tongue." All the playfulness was missing in that statement, and it was back to orders. He did what he was told, and she touched her finger to his tongue.

Caramel. He should have guessed. She always had a thing for caramel.

She continued to pull herself up, licking here and there, moving up and down, taking her time and being very thorough.

All of a sudden, her nails dug into him, and she sucked in a breath. It quivered as she let it out slowly between her teeth. It was almost as if she had climaxed. He didn't know what it was. After a moment, she continued her cleaning, moving here and there. Then she did it again. This time, as she exhaled, she moaned softly, as if she was pleasuring herself.

But her hands were on him. So what was happening? Then it struck him. The candle was burning down, melting the wax as it went. The drips were hot, but not unbearably so, falling every so often onto her chest and stomach. He knew that she liked a little pain, like the occasional spanking, or even a short pull of the hair.

The candle was apparently more then just a tool for domination. She was getting off as the melted wax hit her tits, her stomach, even her nipples, depending on how she was positioned under him at the time.

This self-punishment turned him on even more, if that was possible. His cock stiffened against her lips, and this only fueled her enjoyment. Her actions became quicker, more enthusiastic, less formal, and she began to breath hard, almost panting.

He could feel that she was pretty much done cleaning him off, and now she was just enjoying herself. Her moans grew louder, and he could almost tell that the candle was dripping more and more.

One hand released his back, the other still digging into his skin, as she took him completely into her mouth. Her other hand had left him, and he couldn't fell where it went, but he could easily guess. She started to move beneath him, her whole body grinding and bucking on the bed as she fucked her hand, making herself work for it. He could sometimes feel her bump the sides of his ass with her knees as she brought her legs high up, fucking herself as deeply as she could.

She came hard. She sucked his cock into the back of his throat, her teeth digging in slightly, not quite causing pain, and he could feel her arc her back up from the bed. Her breathing was lightning fast, as much as it could be with his cock taking up almost all the available space in her mouth, and he could feel her spittle as she was almost screaming with ecstasy, her voice muffled.

Finally, she released his cock and lessened her grip on his back. She wasn't moaning, but she was still panting, her face nuzzled and buried in his stomach, next to his cock.

As she returned her composure, she cleared her throat and began to scoot herself out from under him. She had begun to hum, the tune a familiar one that he began to sing in his head. "Happy birthday to her. Happy birthday to her. Happy birthday..."

She got up off the bed and faced him. He could tell that she was leaning over the candle when she said, "Ok. Now to make a wish." After a second, she blew a gust over the candle and across his body, her breath cooling the oil that was still on him. She giggled a bit as she grabbed the candle and gently twisted and pulled it from him. As it left, he heard the faintest 'pop', and then it was gone.

He stayed there, his arms tiring a bit, but not enough to make him complain. He heard her wander around the bed, watching him. There was a faint movement of cloth, but it was so light that he couldn't even tell where she was. Finally, off to the side, he heard her next order.

"Roll over." He did so, lying back on the bed, arms to his side.

"Go ahead and get a little comfortable," she continued, and he brought one leg up a bit, put one arm across his stomach, and snuggled the other hand behind his head. He remained in this position as she reached over and gently tugged the blindfold off of him.

She moved to stand at the foot, and his eyes followed her every step of the way. There were white patches across her chest, spots of wax that had solidified on her body. But what caught his attention was her face.

It wasn't an elaborate mask, just a simple, black leather one. It was like the one that the Lone Ranger wore so long ago. It wasn't much, but it did wonders, and so did the wig. Her blonde hair was completely hidden underneath a solid black wig. The dark strands came down, bobbed at her shoulders.

They gave her an appearance of mystery, of mystique. It was almost as if she was another person, and that he was lying here, nude, with a total stranger standing, equally nude, in front of him.

He watched her, totally awestruck by the unexpected change. She had something small in her hand, but he couldn't guess what it was until she used it. Holding it up, she pointed the remote control at the wall towards the speakers, pushing a button. The light background music came to a halt, and there was a moment of silence as she dropped the small device onto the floor.

Slowly, almost quietly, the speakers began to let out a sensual beat. The first few notes of Phil Collins' 'Coming in the air tonight' began to play out, and she began to move.

She went slowly at first, running her hands up and down her toned body as she swayed to the music. Running her fingers up one of the posts, her hips moved to the beat, her other hand trailing over her stomach, moving up, holding herself beneath her breasts. She moved with practiced ease, like a stripper getting the attention of a wide audience.

Moving with more energy as the song progressed, she brought one foot up, kicking it in a slow, sexual show of flexibility. She spread her legs slightly, holding on to both posts, rocking her entire body between them, spinning her head around, making her dark tresses move in time with the music.

At the entrance of the drums, she gripped one post with both hands and swung, spinning herself around it like a stripper pole, bringing her strong thighs around it, squeezing it between them as she came down. She timed it perfectly so that on the last rotation, she missed the bed, landing on the floor with both feet.

Grasping the other pole, she swung her legs up and around the upper part of the pole, holding on to it with them and letting go with her hands. Leaning back, she hung, upside down from the wooden shaft, gyrating wildly to the soft voice of Phil. Once again, she slowly loosened her grip, sliding down onto the bed this time, resting on her head and arms before flipping backwards across his legs.

He watched her move, getting more excited with every beat of the music. The dark hair and the mask fit perfectly, both them and the music adding to the sensuality and the mystery of the other. He could barely hold onto himself, keep himself from just getting up and taking her, but he knew that she would have him soon.

The music came to an end, and she moved to fully straddle his legs. Sliding her hands up his sides, she stretched out to her full length, and then slid her knees up, inch-worming her way up his body. Stopping on his thighs, he grasped his cock. In a swift movement, she removed the restricting ring. She moved again, sitting on his stomach, her legs holding him tightly between them.

Her hands traveled over his chest, tracing lightly over his skin, and he closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling as she moved to force his hands out from behind his head and pinning them to the bed.

Looking directly into his eyes, she whispered to him. "Don't move." It wasn't as hard as her other commands throughout the evening, and the softness surprised him. It was almost as if she was pleading.

Closing her eyes and with a look of concentration, she lifted her bottom up and moved it down his body slightly. She jumped as she touched the tip of his cock, not pressing too hard, but the sensitivity of the tip felt the smoothness of her pussy as it ran over him. She shuddered, feeling his most intimate of intimates against her own, running first up, then down the length of her lips. She was slowly, carefully, enjoying the sensations running through both of them to the fullest.

With the gentlest of nudges, she allowed him to enter her. Not even the entire head had slipped between her lips, but she shuddered almost violently. Her eyes squeezed harder shut, and her hands on his arms gripped tightly. After a few moments pause, she moved herself forward and back, not taking him deeper, but moving him slightly inside of her, still totally immersed in feeling.

He felt her body react to him, her thighs pressing against his sides. Letting him in a little more, he felt her muscles contact around the head of his cock. She gasped deeply, and her head turned to the side as she felt him throb in return.

Her pussy tightened around him, constricting him enough that he could feel the edge of his head as it was slid through her opening, and he concentrated on her face, trying to suppress the urge to hurry. She felt him slide in more, and her bottom lip was sucked in. She bit down on it, letting out a shuddering breath.

Her eyes opened, and she stared into his. Breathing deeply, her breaths were shaky. Each one came slightly faster then the one before, and her hands gripped his arms. It was as if she was preparing for something.

With a sudden, surprising move, she sat down, thrusting him as deeply as she could into her.

Her jaw dropped open, letting out a sudden "Ah" as her nails dug into his skin. He could even feel her toes curling against his legs, fisting and flexing in complete ecstasy. Her body tightened, going beyond shuddering and moving into full on convulsions. Her pussy pulsed against his cock, and he couldn't hold back any longer.

Slipping his arms out of her grip, he grasped her hips, pulling her down onto him, thrusting his hips into her, going as deeply as he could. He could feel her all around him, even pressing the tip against her back wall.

Her loud moan was matched by his, and he held himself inside of her as he throbbed, climaxing with her. They both held their positions, trying to keep the feeling for as long as possible. Collapsing together in an outburst of breath, she collapsed on his chest, neither bothering to move off of him, or even to remove him from her. Their sweat-covered bodies were panting, moving together in rhythm, trying to catch their breaths in the chilling embrace of the cooling moisture of their skin.

Slowly, gently, she slipped off to the side, not quite making it completely off of him. Her leg was still draped over his thighs, her arm still lying across his chest. Her breasts weren't heaving as much, but were still pressed against his side. His arm cradled her head, and they lay like that, without covering, exhausted and asleep, for the rest of the night.

They awoke with the dawn, sunlight streaming through the open windows. He awoke first, stirring slightly, and then remembering what had happened. He held her close, holding her near him as she awoke, hugging him back. She looked up into his eyes, smiling warmly, pushing herself up enough for a quick kiss.

Embracing once again, she laid her head on his chest, and they promptly fell back asleep.

It was an odd sight. Around noon, a couple, the woman dressed in a wrinkled black dress, her shoes in her hands, and the man with black dress pants and a white t-shirt, with a jacket and dress shirt draped over his arm, walked hand in hand out of the hotel, getting into a waiting taxi and moving on down the street. Nobody nearby saw anything particularly strange about this.

Nobody except for the three people sitting on the bus-stop bench across the street.

There sat two women, one blonde, and the other brunette. Between them sat a man with short cut brown hair and a couple of day's growth of beard, with a laptop on his legs. He was typing quietly, but the women were watching the taxi as it turned a corner a few blocks away. As it disappeared, the man stopped typing, and both women turned to him. He looked up, glancing first at the brunette.

"So?" he asked, then turned to the blonde, "What did you think?"

The blonde shrugged her shoulders, nodding slightly and giving him a faint look of approval. She was about to say something when she paused, looking over his shoulder. He turned around, looking at the brunette, who was now looking all around them. She searched the sky, looked over the street, all across the buildings, even under the bench. The other two watched her.

"What's up?" asked the blonde. The brunette stopped, looking directly at the man.