His Birthday

Her View

It was his birthday, and she wanted it to be special, so they had talked it over earlier in the week and decided what they would do to celebrate. She had just gotten out of the shower, freshly cleaned, shaved, and trimmed, and had gotten dressed, adding the 'special' additions he had requested. She had just finished putting on her earrings and was slipping into her high heels when she heard him enter the front door. He had been to the gym after work, so had showered and shaved there, but as she walked up to him and kissed him, she couldn't help but catch a whiff of his strong masculine scent. That almost drove her crazy right there, but she held herself back.

Taking a step backwards, she clasped her hands in front of her and lowered her head in a submissive pose. She felt him looking her up and down, eyeing her full bust barely being held in by the tight black dress that was so sheer that he could see the outline of the black thong she was wearing.

"Turn around," his deep voice commanded, not loudly, but in control. She slowly rotated, showing all sides of her outfit, from the thigh-high stockings to the artful black butterfly clasp that held her hair high but stylish. The back of the dress dropped from the shoulders straight down to show the very top of her g-string. Turning back around to face him, she saw a smile being half hidden by a straight face, as he hid his lusting look under one of complete control.

"Very nice," he said as she completed her turn. "Is everything ready?"

"Yes, Sir," she replied in a soft, submissive tone. He placed her evening coat over her shoulders, handed her purse, and opened the door.

Before letting her pass, he looked at her and asked, "Where is it?"

She reached into her small purse and brought out a small key chain. On it was attached a small controller. It could have been mistaken for a car alarm remote, but this not only had a red button, but also a small dial, like a volume control. He took it from her and looked at it. Setting it to its lowest level, he pressed the button. She jerked in a small intake of breath, holding herself stiffly, and smirking slightly. "God, that's going to drive me wild," she thought. Satisfied, he pressed the button again, and she relaxed. Pocketing the key chain, he waved his arm grandly to the outside, beckoning her along.

"Come, we must hurry," he said, and followed her out, locking the door behind them.

He opened the door to the car for her, closing it behind her and walking around to the other side. Glancing around, she noticed a long thin black case wrapped with a red bow sitting on the dashboard. Sitting demurely, she looked down at her hands holding her purse on her lap. She felt him get in the driver's seat and listened to the car start, the radio playing a slow classical waltz.

Feeling his eyes on her, she sat patiently, not saying a word. This was his day, and she was not allowed to do anything without his ok. She was shaking, though, a slight tremor running through her body as she started to think about things to come. Goose bumps ran down her arms and legs in anticipation, as she felt herself getting exited. She loved being dominated as much as she loved dominating, but today was his birthday. He was the master, to be called 'Sir' at all times, while she was his plaything, and would respond to any demeaning name he chose, but mostly he just called her 'Kitten,' in reference to that part of her body that he alone possessed. She would have to respond to any request he made, no matter how taboo, forbidden, or wrong. She had a safe word, but she promised herself that she would be hard pressed to use it.

Feeling the car back out of the driveway, she wondered what was going to go on tonight. She knew what had gone on in the past, but they were different every time. The 'date' called for dinner at a fancy restaurant, followed by box seats to 'Phantom of the Opera,' but those plans didn't include any of his whims or desires. She was distinctly aware of how excited this anticipation brought out in her, and was also aware of how her nipples pressed against front of her dress. She could almost count the stitches, they were that sensitive and hard, pressed against the tight fabric. Adjusting herself in the seat also reminded her of the couple of additions to her wardrobe that she had put on at his request.

He obviously noticed the smile on her face as she squirmed slightly, and, without her seeing, he put his hand in his pocket. The toy inside her buzzed to life, exciting her even more, and she let out a small gasp as she gripped her purse tightly, trying not to lose her self control. If she did, then there would be punishment, and even though that would be fun, she still tried to be the 'proper' kitty.

It was hard, for he played with the controller all the way to the restaurant, turning the vibrations up and down randomly, never letting her gain total composure, even though she never let out a single peep, or moved another inch. The only conscious thought she had was to wonder why the toy hadn't shorted out, as wet as she was.

Arriving at the entrance without a word, they stopped the car and he stepped out. Handing the keys to the valet, he walked around and opened her door.

"Let us go," he said in an unassuming and playful voice. He extended his arm out and she slipped hers into it, leaning hard on it to stand on such wobbly legs. He paused only to retrieve the beribboned case from the dashboard, slipped the valet a bill, received the claim ticket, and led her into the restaurant.

The host took their jackets and her purse, and led them to a reserved table next to a large window overlooking the bay. Watching boats enter and leave the harbor, she heard him clear his throat. Immediately, she put her hands on her lap, looking down docilely. She heard him stand up and walk around behind her. Putting his lips close to her left ear, he reached around to her right and presented the package.

"This is for you." He placed the package into her hands. "Open it." As he put both hands on her shoulders, she slipped the bright red ribbon off of the case, and opened it with a creak of the tight hinges. Inside was a string of pearls, each of them perfectly round, with a small silver medallion in the center. An ornate 'K' was etched in the medallion, brightly and deeply. He reached around her and picked up the necklace, proceeding to affix the clasp behind her neck. As he did, she noticed that the pearls were strung with a stronger wire then usual, and that the medallion had a small hole in it between the legs of the 'K'. The coldness of the silver sent a shiver down her spine, returning the goosebumps that had so recently left her.

He pecked her on the cheek and then proceeded to return to his chair. She lightly touched the necklace lightly, whispering a 'thank you' to him. He smiled and nodded, then proceeded to go over the menu.

She was still in a servile pose, hands in her lap, looking down, when the waiter came by. Requesting a moderately priced blush wine, he then proceeded to order for both of them; him, sea bass, while she got a chef's salad and bread. She didn't mind, for she usually ate a light dinner anyway. The waiter bowed and turned, leaving the master and his 'pet'. He soon returned with the wine, popping the cork and letting Sir sniff it, then taste the wine itself. Pronouncing it satisfactory, he had the waiter leave.

"Pour the wine for both of us," he said. No please, no tone of request in his voice. He knew he was in command, and she did too. She rose up, now a little more steadily on her feet, and picked up the bottle, gently pouring it into his glass, then turning to pour it into her own. As she poured, she felt the strong vibrations that suddenly began, and just as quickly ended, between her legs. They seemed to travel up and down her entire body. The only outward sign was the small shake in her hand, and both pairs of eyes spotted and followed the single drop of wine that spilled out of the glass and landed on the white tablecloth. The drop sounded like the crashing of the ocean in her ears, and she knew that she would be punished for it. She replaced the bottle on the table, and then sat back down, returning to her submissive position. As she sat, she glanced at his face, noting the displeasure.

His voice came out calm, but there was a touch of strictness. Also, what was that, playfulness? She knew she was going to get it, and a warm feeling flowed through her body, excitedly.

"When the waiter comes back, I want you to apologize to him. If you do it well enough, I just might let you try the wine you just wasted."

The waiter soon brought the dishes out. Placing them down, he clasped his hands together in front of himself.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" he asked.

Sir looked over to her and nodded.

She turned in her seat, still looking down, and, in a clear but quiet voice, said, "I must apologize for the fact that I have spilled wine on, and ruined, your fine tablecloth." She pointed to the single spot. "I am sincerely sorry and promise that it will never happen again. Please forgive me."

The waiter looked confusedly at the spot, then at her, then over to Sir, unsure as to what to do.

Sir looked up at the waiter calmly, and asked, "Do you accept?"

"Uh, yes. Thank you," the waiter stammered, then bowed and left quickly. Looking over at her, Sir spoke quietly.

"You may eat. The wine that is in your glass is all that you will get during this meal, do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir." That was all she said as they proceeded to eat.

After the meal, he took a small espresso and glanced out of the wide picture window at the dark scene. She sat quietly, wondering what he would do next. He was enjoying his power, she could tell, and she was enjoying being just a thing, to be controlled completely. It exhilarated her and, as she thought of it, she ran her finger over the fine netting of her stockings, feeling the fine material, enjoying the sensation.

Standing, he replaced his cup in the saucer, signed the bill, and leaned over her chair, whispering into her ear.

"When you are called, come to me immediately." He then turned and walked away, disappearing around a corner. As he went out of sight, she gazed out of the window, watching a couple of sailboats returning from a long day on the water. She wondered about them, wondered who owned them, what it was like to sit in a bikini, draped across the bow of a schooner, on full display as you left the harbor, relishing the sun and the open air, being envied by those on land. "That was an idea", she thought, "for her birthday. She was going to have to remember..."

A sudden buzzing between her legs made her jerk and give a slight whimper in pleasure. She had calmed down during the meal, but this was stronger then before. She stood, steadied herself, then walked towards where Sir had disappeared.

Coming around the corner, a strong hand gripped her elbow and dragged her into the men's room. Hearing the door lock, all she could see was the wall as she was pressed roughly against it. Her legs were roughly kicked apart as hands grasped her ass, then ran over her hips towards the front, running down over her panty line and over her now spread thighs, as he pressed against her from behind. Squeezing her inner thighs gently, his hands ran back up her dress, roughly and needing, finally caressing her breasts.

She quivered at his touch, feeling his hardness pressing through his slacks against her ass. Not allowed to move, not allowed to speak, she gasped as his fingers found the edge of her dress and pulled it down around her breasts. With a shaking intake of breath, her rock hard nipples brushed up against the cold tile of the wall, sending shivers up and down her spine, which only increased as he reached back up and ran all of his fingers over both stiff nubs.

As suddenly as it had started, he stepped away. Walking to the mirror, he adjusted his tie and straightened his shirt. He completed his task in complete control of himself. She stood there, panting, wanting, desiring more, needing to feel him inside her, but all she was able to do was to remain against the wall. He was in command.

As he passed her on his way out, he leaned over and whispered, "You have two minutes to be at the front door." He then unlocked the door and strode out.

She quickly adjusted her breasts back into her dress, looked into the mirror, took a deep breath, sipped some of the water from the tap, then stood up. She was now deeply frustrated and sexually aroused, but she knew that if she waited, it would get better.

Meeting him at the door, they retrieved their jackets and her purse. She took his offered arm, and he led her out to the waiting car. Pulling out of the parking lot, he looked over at her. She felt his eyes travel up and down her body, watching her between glances at the road. He placed his hand on her knee, then let it slowly slide over her nylons up her thigh, pushing up the dress as it went until the edge of his pinky was pressed firmly into her groin. She sighed then closed her eyes, feeling his hand slide underneath the side of her panties. He ran his fingers through the very short, cropped patch of hair, then lowered his hand and ran two fingers down the sides of her pussy, forcing her to moan. He brought his hand back up, running his middle finger over her lips, not entering, but just between. She watched him, breathlessly, as he slowly brought his finger up to his own lips, and, careful as ever, ran his tongue over it and sucked it slightly. Reaching into his pocket, he held up the remote. His thumb hesitated over the red button as she watched, agonizing over the wait, wanting to just reach over and turn it on, to touch herself, to take him, anything, but he just grinned and put the controller back into his pocket. Replacing his hand to the steering wheel, he drove in silence for the rest of the trip, but she noticed him licking his lips every so often.

The opera house was old. With the main seating down below, it had large private box seats lining the sides of the audience, twenty to thirty feet up, providing an excellent view of the stage. Leading her into their private box, he closed and locked the door behind them. Setting her in her seat, he sat down next to her and watched as the lights dimmed and the curtain was pulled. She was momentarily blinded, not used to the dark, but as the overture rose, she felt him lean over to her ear.

"Nod yes or no," he said quietly, "Are you excited?"

She nodded quickly, her hands tightening in front of her.

"Am I your master tonight?"

She nodded again.

"Will you do all that I command of you?"

For a third time, she nodded.

"Then kneel before me and wait."

She slid off the front of her chair, turning and getting down on her knees before him, letting her purse drop to the side of the chair as she moved. She stayed there, facing him, hands clasped in front of her, head bowed. He picked up her purse and opened it. Fingering through it, he pulled out her lipstick and put the purse down back down.

Holding it out to her, he said, "Your face needs touching up." She reached up slowly and took it. She opened it and touched it to her lips, smoothing out a new layer of red over the top, then rubbed her lips together, spreading the color over her bottom lip. Replacing the top of the cylinder, she gave it back to him and then sat still. She could feel his power over her as she knelt in front of him, surrounded by thousands of people who had no idea what was going on above their heads.

He picked up her hands and ran her palms along his thighs, up to the pronounced bulge of his groin. She felt him, felt his hardness through his clothes, and looked up at him. She was his and wanted to please him. She was so excited by now, her body was singing.

He caught her look and asked her quietly, almost sweetly, "What is it that you want?"

"I...," she started meekly, then hesitated, "I want you. I would like to suck your dick. Please, Sir, may I suck your dick?"

He pushed her hands down to his knees, then slowly undid the button on his pants and unzipped his fly. Pushing underwear down, his member sprang up to full attention. Holding it in one hand, he looked at her as she licked her lips.

"Is this what you want?" he asked sweetly?

She nodded silently, not taking her eyes off of it. She wanted it. She could already taste it, feel it in her mouth, running her tongue over it, feeling its warmth as it throbbed between her lips. Her body ached for it.

Suddenly, he leaned over, grabbed the hair at the back of her head and roughly pulled her face to his, her neck arched back and her mouth open.

"THIS IS NOT A DICK!" he hissed, his spittle landing on her cheek. "THIS IS NOT A DICK, A ROD, OR A HARD TURGID MEMBER! THIS IS A FUCKING COCK! DO YOU UNDERSTAND? Now," his voice was perfectly calm again as he released her hair, "what were you going to ask?"

God, the forcefulness, the suddenness. She could feel the heat of her body enveloping her. She was dripping wet, wanting him more then ever.

"Please, Sir, may I suck your cock?" she asked, her voice quivering, quieter then before.

He touched her chin and raised her eyes to his.

"Remember one thing only." Perfectly calm. "This is for me, not you. You will not cum until I allow you. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Sir," she replied.

He nodded his head and she attacked him. She engulfed him, devouring him, forcing him deeply inside her throat, wanting as much of him as possible, Sucking, licking, slurping, she couldn't stop herself. She stroked him when he wasn't completely inside her mouth, running her tongue wildly over the head, sliding her mouth down the side, up the other side, smearing lipstick all over him, frantically taking him, her eyes closed in ecstasy. She barely heard him when he whispered.

"Remember, it's my time, not yours."

Then she felt it. The deep, wild buzzing inside of her. HE HAD TURNED IT ON! "Oh, god," she thought. She ground herself into the heel of her foot, pressing her clit against her panties. She let out a soft moan, and buried her face in his pubic hair, stroking his cock against her cheek. She started to moan again, muffling it against him. She rocked forward and back, grinding. He leaned over and whispered again.

"Don't." His command was simple, calm: totally impossible to obey.

She shook hard as her whole body stiffened, a mixture of pleasure and pain shooting through every molecule in her body as she gripped his cock hard, burying her face deeper in his groin, feeling the heat rise and consume her. The buzzing had stopped, but she didn't care.

Then his hand grabbed her hair, pulling it back rougher then before. Looking at him, she saw anger on his face, but pleasure in his eyes. Calmly, he pushed her hands away, stood, and replaced himself inside his pants. She sat, shaking with the quakes still coursing through her body, head down, submissive.

"Stand up and come along," he said, a slight hardness in his voice. He put on his jacket and strode purposefully to the door. Not waiting for her, he walked out, her following, head down, like a puppy being punished. Not opening the door for her, he got into the car. She had to scramble to get in and shut the door before he spun the tires and tore out onto the road.

His voice was calm as he drove.

"That's two," he said. "You will be punished. You know that, right?"

"Yes, Sir," she replied quietly. She was ready, now. She wanted him. She had had her first tonight and she was ready for anything. She was waiting for the punishment to begin, wondering with excitement. This is what he wanted. This is why he did it. This was what they were waiting for. Being under his control was fantastic, but the domination, the physical DOMINATION that goes with punishment, that was the thing. She was already aching for another release when they pulled up to the hotel.