The Birthday Present Ch. 01

This story is a complete work of fiction and any resemblance to any persons living or dead is completely unintended. All activities engaged within involve consenting participants over 18 years old.

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I remember your fantasy and I know you want this, yet still I'm nervous. Will you be okay with it? I know you'll fight, that's part of the fantasy, but how do I know if you're serious or not?

I should have made you sign a waiver, I think to myself as I lie in wait for you. I hear your heels clicking down the hallway. Ah well, too late now, I realize.

Putting my doubts and nerves aside I prepare to move. The door is only open a crack and as I peer out, I see you approaching. White blouse tucked into a short pleated black skirt. The skirt will make this easier, though the black nylons that encase your legs will have to go. The simple heel you're wearing is just enough to stretch out the muscles of your calves and make your legs look simply gorgeous.

My eyes hungrily drift up your body. The padding of your bra suggests that there is more than there is, but I know differently. The thought makes me smile. We'll soon have the real you out of the packaging. You've done your make-up in that natural, yet sensual way you have. Lipstick enhancing the natural colour but not so dark as to be over-powering, eye shadow and liner designed to enhance beauty rather than create it. You always take my breath away with your casual sensuality. You've opted to pull your hair back into a simple tail, which honestly makes this a bit easier. Though your hair is beautiful when free, it does get in the way at times. Besides, I laugh to myself, there is a certain irony to having the hair as tightly bound as I will soon have the rest of you.

My heart is pounding in my chest; I'm almost surprised you can't hear it. But you keep walking towards my hiding place and I do my best to calm my nerves. I wait until you're even with the door. I want to take you by surprise, to catch you before you can react. You've moved just past and I lunge. In my mind I decide I'm like a trap-door spider in the desert capturing its unsuspecting prey.

My right hand slides around your waist as I pull you close, while my left clamps a cloth down over your mouth and nose. I admit to myself that I'm likely cheating, but the ether I borrowed from med department will stop you from fighting. Inhaling the fumes, you're limp as I pull you back into the stairwell. The heavy door swings shut behind us, the 'click' as it closes seems to echo off the concrete. Your limp body is surprisingly difficult to handle and I find myself struggling to find the best way, it's always the unanticipated things that make these fantasies more exciting. I finally manage to turn you toward me and hoist you over my shoulder.

Carrying you down the stairs I can't help but find myself aroused by the feel of your nylon clad legs against my hand. I succumb to my own personal weakness and run my hand over your fabric-covered ass. My arousal makes itself known and I find myself hard against my jeans. Patience I tell myself over and over again, it becomes a mantra that I use to stop myself from ravaging you right there in the stairwell.

I watch you, my friends told me that the ether would knock you out for a bit and that when you came too you'd be groggy at first, they were right. Watching awareness come back to you is a pleasure in itself. The usual little sounds of someone waking from a deep sleep, only as you try to shift you find you can't move. I think it's this sudden restraint that brings reality crashing back on you. Your eye's flutter open, only to shut again against the intensity of the bright lights. The lights are a nice touch I think, bright enough to keep you disoriented while allowing you to be so clearly seen.

You call out, or at least you would if not for the ball gag that makes it impossible. You try to shift again, but the restraints hold you. You pull harder, your back arches as you try to get leverage. I chuckle to myself, the only thing this does is thrust your chest out to good advantage. You twist your head from side-to-side trying desperately to see, but still the lights make it impossible to make anything out. I let you squirm like this for a while. Legs, arms, back, everything testing and pushing against the bonds that hold you. Perspiration forms on your skin as you finally begin to realize that your efforts are futile.

Finally, breathing heavily around your gag and through your nose, you collapse back and lie still as you try to take stock of your situation. I watch you carefully test your bindings. Each pull and tug only allowing a small amount of movement.

"Are you done?" I ask quietly, my voice visibly startling you.

Your head turns as you track the sound of my voice and I watch you squint against the light to try and make out my features. I laugh deep and low, this is why I wear the mask.

Stepping forward I know the back lighting obscures my features, throwing me into a strange silhouette. That's okay, that's not what I want you to focus on right now anyway. I raise the blade in my hand, twisting it so the light glints off the polished steel. Your eyes widen in surprise. I didn't even need the mask, I realize, as your eyes never leave the blade as I approach. When I stop approaching, I'm close enough to hear your breathing, close enough to see your pupils dilate. In something akin to slow motion, I move the blade to your blouse and place it against the top button. You feel the slight tug against the material before the blade severs the threads and the button pops then bounces against the floor. I move on to the next and then the next, until your blouse gapes. With a flick of my wrist I push the material aside and you are suddenly exposed in just your bra.

The cool air against your flesh is a catalyst that seems to fire your independent streak and you twist and turn as you struggle against the restraints. Well, struggle until the cold metal touches the tender flesh just below your bellybutton; then you are suddenly still. You don't realize of course, but it's the back of the blade that touches your flesh, I would never risk actually cutting that perfect flesh. But, that again is my secret and you have no way to know.

As I'd hoped, you exhale as you try to suck in your stomach and pull as much of your flesh away from the blade as you can. It makes sense of course, get away from the danger. And, of course, I was counting on it. You've given me the gap I'd been looking for and I slide the blade down along your stomach beneath the waist of your skirt. I lightly pull and the sharp blade cuts through the fabric.

Its relatively short work for me to cut the remnants of blouse and skirt away and leave you in just your nylons and bra, the nylons will go next but who wants to use a blade on those? Not when you can have the pleasure of sliding your hands along such a perfect body, feeling that fast paced breathing, that skin quivering as you slide your fingers along the waist of the flimsy material. Not when you can feel the satisfying tear of that material as you rip it apart with your bare hands. Such a thrill to see your pale flesh exposed from the dark material.

Reaching for the blade again, I pull the last of the nylon material away and move back up your body. I can't resist letting the back of the blade tickle up your exposed calf and thigh and finally your hip and stomach as I prepare to remove your bra. I run the back of the blade over the flesh above your breasts, almost a loving caress of cold steel. The touch is light enough to bring goose bumps and I smile at your reaction. The blade to make short work of your bra straps before I slip it along your cleavage and finally, after so much anticipation, cut the bra free.

You inhale sharply as the support's reassuring pressure is suddenly lost. I pull the fabric free and gleefully watch your nipples hardening under the coolness of the room. Your areolas are magnificent, a darker flesh-tone against the paleness of your skin, your nipples rising from them like tiny mountains questing for the heavens. A quick flick with the back of the blade against that sensitive flesh surprises you and you gasp as well as you can against the gag. I laugh at your reaction and turn away from you.

The cough from the other side of the room breaks the silence. I glance back to check; sure enough, you've gone pale with shock... we are not alone.

Laughing as I return to you, I watch you turn your head from side-to-side looking to see who else is witnessing your domination. You're so preoccupied that you don't even notice me as I approach. I turn away, so my body hides my actions and light the candle that I'm holding. The flame takes quickly and the wick burns well. In less time than you would think, wax begins to liquefy and run down the shaft. I look back at you.

Perfect, I decide. My audience knows what I'm about to do and have rustled or moved with anticipation. You are paying no attention to me in the slightest, not even looking in my direction. But, that will change in moments.

Turning back towards you, I tilt the candle slightly and the hot wax no longer runs down the long white shaft. Instead it falls, gravity lands it on your already hardened nipple. The heat catches you by surprise and your head whips back in my direction as the second drop of wax follows the first, splashing hotly against your creamy breast. The third drop makes you groan in protest.

The drops come faster now, hot against your flesh. Your groans have started sounding more and more like moans. An evil smile crosses my lips. Shifting between drops, I move the candle so the next flow of hot wax splashes against your untouched nipple. There's no doubting it this time, definitely a moan as the already erect nipple hardens and stretches further.

It doesn't take long to cover your breasts in a thin layer of wax, your body acclimatizing to the heat and sensation. Blowing the candle out I put it aside and reach for the blade. With the back of the weapon I begin removing the wax, the cold hard metal pressing against your soft flesh as it scrapes. When I pass over your sensitive nipples your back arches at the sensation. I laugh softly at you.

Shifting, I move down your body, I don't want to over work those sensitive bits. Besides, I think, I've been neglecting part of you. The blade makes quick work of your panties and with a bit of pressure on the restraints, I pull your legs apart exposing you completely. The glistening wetness of your pussy catches my eye. You're as excited as I'd hoped. Running my hand up your leg and along your inner thigh, I caress up to your wetness. My fingers sliding between the lips of your pussy and even I'm surprised at how well lubricated you are. You gasp again as my fingers brush across your hardening clit.

I turn away from you.

"Incredibly wet," I announce. "Does anyone wish to confirm it?"

There's a cacophony as chairs are moved. Apparently, others wish to check.

"Allow me to prepare her," I announce again. Moving quickly I grab the thick black silk scarf I'd brought for just such an opportunity and drape it over your face. The material, folded in half as it is, is enough to leave you blind. You shake your head in frustration, but I quickly tie it securely. Thank you again for the ponytail.

Blind and tied as you are, all you can do is wait. You hear the footsteps approaching. Feel the presence of others near you. The first touch causes your breath to catch in your throat. And so it begins, for the next five minutes, though I'm sure it seems longer to you, you are poked and prodded by strange, anonymous fingers and hands. Five minutes of being violated, explored. Some are gentle and teasing, enjoying your reactions to their touches. Others are more concerned about their own enjoyment and treat you roughly as the play with your exposed pussy.

Finally the touches die off and people return to their seats. I leave the blindfold in place as I move down between your legs. Your lips are red and a bit rough from the handling, but the moisture is seeping down your thighs and ass. I marvel at how aroused you've become. I gently trace a finger along the soft flesh of your exposed vagina and you shudder at the touch. I realize how close you are to climaxing. It seems cruel not to put you out of your misery.

With soft, teasing touches I begin caressing and playing with you. Your body responds and I hear your moans as I trace small light circles around your clit. I slide my fingers down into your wetness and let my index finger push into you. Sliding out, wet and well lubricated I add a second finger as I thrust back inside you. You moan around your gag.

My left hand finger fucking deep inside you, I use the fingers of my right to tease across your little nub. At the first touch, your hips arch up as you try to take my fingers deeper. Faster and faster I thrust in and out, my other hand keeping time with strokes across your clit. I don't have long to wait. Your breathing comes faster and faster. Your hips buck as you writhe in your restraints. You are getting so close and a strange tension falls over the room as we all wait for your climax.

A friend steps out of the shadows and approaches. He meets my eyes and I nod. Quickly he reaches around your neck and releases the gag, pulling it free. You gasp for air as you moan and writhe. The room is filled with the sounds of your impending orgasm.

"Fuck, Fuck, FUCK, FUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!" you scream in ecstasy as you finally come. Your entire body spasms with pleasure, the muscles tight, your pussy is pouring out its moisture. The seconds tick by with you frozen in time as the sensations crash through your body. Finally you collapse in exhaustion.

The applause is thunderous, but you're barely conscious now. Dimly you're aware of people leaving the room...

To Be Continued.