Birthday Breakfast

I awoke in the morning to find myself alone in bed, and rolled over and pulled the warm flannel sheets up over my head. Closing my eyes again, I tried to return to the previous month's vacation in Tokyo.

Seemingly seconds later, I felt the warm covers being pulled back, and Kathy sliding into bed behind me. She pressed herself tightly against me, her hand draped over me to caress my bare chest. "Are you awake?" she asked, whispering in my ear.

"I am now."

"Good, because breakfast is on the table already."

A few minutes later, we descended the staircase. Typically, the person who wakes up first makes the morning coffee, but I did not smell the tasty brew. Nor did I smell eggs, waffles, toast, sausages, or any other standard breakfast fare. But, despite my questions, I remained silent, allowing Kathy to lead me by the hand through the living room to the dining room.

...where a young Oriental woman lay on the table. Thick padlocked leather cuffs surrounded her ankles and wrists, with heavy black ropes securing each cuff to a table leg. Her sex was completely shaved, just the way I preferred. Her fingernails and toenails were painted a musky pink. Her nipples were pierces with small silver rings. Her lips were parted slightly and painted thickly in the same odd color as her nails. Her long reddish hair was cast about her head in an appealing circular formation. The black leather blindfold robber her of her sight, and strangely made her even more appealing.

I paused in the doorway, drinking in the beautiful vision before me. Kathy stood at my side, holding my hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Happy birthday, sweetie," she whispered, then lifted my hand to her lips.

"This is for me?" I asked, stunned beyond belief. My eyes never left the bound beauty, noting the subtle rise and fall of her chest, accented by the rings in her nipples.

"She's all yours," my fiancée confirmed. "Her name is Hanako, a third-year student at the college, born in southern Japan and moved to Illinois with her family when she was just barely three years old. I've had a few classes with her and discovered that she has long fantasized about this very situation. So, here is one of your birthday presents: a slave for a day."

My mind reeled with the possibilities. Kathy and I occasionally enjoyed some bondage play, but never had we played with a third person, even though we had long fantasized about such a situation. I moved my gaze down Hanako's body to her bare sex, noticing the trickle of moisture seeping from her, and my mouth watered.

"I have already instructed her to address you as Master, as I do when you dominate me."

I pulled Kathy close and we shared a bear hug. I was a little embarrassed by my growing erection pressing into my fiancée's lower belly. But Kathy giggled; "I see you like your birthday gift," she whispered.

"I definitely do," I agreed softly, "but one thing would make it even better."

"Should I cover her with whip cream and chocolate syrup?"

"Actually, I was thinking that two slaves would be even better today."

"Yes, Master." Kathy stepped out of my grasp and quickly removed her pajamas and panties. Once fully nude, she knelt before me, looking up at me with love and devotion.

"Undress me." She complied quickly, and knelt before me once again. "Go to the basement and get the new whip."

"Yes, Master." My young fiancée rose to her feet and left the dining room. Once she was gone, I approached the bound Asian student, slowly strolling around the dining room table until I stood by her head.

"Konnichiwa, Hanako-chan," I said softly, promptly hitting the end of my knowledge of Japanese, evoking a smile from the willing captive. I reached out to her face, gently caressing her cheek. She turned her face into my hand, attempting to maximize the amount of physical contact. Hanako sighed softly, the gentle fall of her chest subtly attracting my attention. Bending down, I kissed her soft lips, and was treated to a feast of strawberry-kiwi taste, and I had to fight with all my willpower to keep from drowning in the lipstick version of one of my favorite drinks.

Clearly, Hanako's lipstick was Kathy's doing. I made a mental note to truly reward my fiancée later in the day.

Moving to the other end of the table, I positioned myself between the Japanese woman's legs. Stroking her inner thighs, my tongue reached out to her junction, gathering her sweet wetness and eliciting a soft sound of delight from her upper lips.

I ate my breakfast, taking my fill of sweet young Asian, savoring the taste and the sounds of my exotic meal.

And when I finished the morning feast and stood once again, Kathy awaited with several napkins to clean my face for me.

"You should try some," I said with a smile. "I never knew an Asian coed could taste so good."

Once in position, Kathy sampled her classmate, and made a soft sound of delight.

It would be her last such sound for a while. I retrieved the whip her where it lay on a nearby table. The black leather was heavy, a little work from previous use, and still carried its intoxicating scent. And while Kathy ate her breakfast, I pummeled her shapely buns, whipping her harder if she stopped eating her breakfast, enjoying the combined yet vastly different squeals of these two young beauties and feeling that I must be the luckiest person alive.

When I at last felt Kathy could take no more, I moved to the side of the table and repeatedly applied the whip to Hanako's heaving chest. Her pain-tinged cries were exquisite, her struggles futile yet mesmerizing. Using our vastly different methods, Kathy and I made the newcomer howl and scream, and I wished that I could have an audio recording of this action.

The dual assault of the Japanese beauty finally ended. I set the whip aside and pulled Kathy to me. Together, we savored the sweet taste of Hanako as we listened to the soft, satisfied moans drifting up from the table.

"Happy birthday, Master," Kathy whispered between kisses.

Happy birthday, indeed! And it was only about 9AM!