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Flash Fiction – The Birthday Present

June 5, 2012 by Heather Cole

The moment I opened the door, I knew she was a present for me. Standing on my welcome mat in a sundress of white lawn, her curly auburn hair captured at the nape of her neck, was a vision of alabaster skin and green eyes. The vision came complete with a light dusting of freckles decorating her pert nose. She looked innocent. Fresh.

She flashed me a smile and then her gaze dropped to the ground. I recognized the signs at once, the subtle physical cues of a submissive in training.

“Mistress sent me,” she said in a firm tone.

“Of course she did.”  I smiled and fell silent, waiting to see what she would do.

My friend was breaking in a new sub, and she had called several weeks ago to tell me about the birthday present she was sending. I didn’t know a lot about the woman in front of me except that she was fairly new to kink and that my friend described her service as “enthusiastic.”

She shifted her weight back and forth, and then green eyes flashed up at me. “Are you going to let me inside or just stare?”

I pushed the door open and motioned her inside, barely managing to cover my expression of shock. I expected her to wait in the foyer for further instructions, but she breezed past me without another look in my direction.

I breathed deeply, inhaling her scent of honeysuckle. Thin sandals were secured around slender ankles, and the idea sprung to mind of her tied and helpless across my bed. As I watched her lithe form disappear down the hallway and into my living room, my fingers itched to lay a crop across the white expanse of her back.

“Cheeky,” I muttered to no one.

Ignoring my unexpected guest for a moment, I padded into the kitchen to get a glass of iced tea. I nibbled absentmindedly at my lip and pondered what to do with her. She was beautiful and unruly, and I recognized the unspoken challenge in her eyes. I knew it intimately, because not so long ago I had been in her shoes challenging the control of my Master. But I had little practice topping submissives. The planning, the plotting, the anticipation of a submissive’s needs was exhausting, in my opinion. What the hell was I going to do with her?

Previous to my present’s arrival, I had been spending the morning hard at work. My hair was back in a high ponytail, and I was wearing my glasses. Dressed in yoga pants and a ‘kinky nerd’ t-shirt, I was nowhere near sexy or mentally prepared for a scene. For a moment I entertained the idea of calling my friend to tell her just what I thought about her catching me off-guard, but I knew that was exactly the reaction she hoped for. Damn Dommes and their mind fucks.

By the time I made my way to the living room, my present was curled on the sofa as she leafed through a magazine.

“Did your Mistress give you specific instructions?”

“Yes,” she said, without glancing up.

I waited for her to continue, but as the silence stretched between us, I felt the first bite of an emotion I hadn’t expected. Irritation.

“Care to elaborate, or are you a gift I’m only supposed to admire. Not unwrap?”

“Mistress said that you’re a slave.”

“I am.”

She shifted on the couch, one foot tapping against the floor. “Why have I been gifted to a slave? You can’t Top me.”

She was correct in her own way. Domination didn’t come easily to me. I enjoyed brief periods of it, but in my heart I was a slave to my Master. But if there was one thing I couldn’t abide, it was a sassy newbie throwing labels in my face like confetti. I had earned my collar, and if I had anything to say about it, she was going to do some serious work towards hers tonight.

“The simple truth of submission is that no one can Top you without permission. Answer me this:  did you deliberately and willingly accept your Mistress as your Domme?”

“Yes. Of course.” She frowned.

“And you willingly entered her service to train as her slave?”

My present nodded.

“Then your Mistress gifted you to me for the afternoon.” I tilted my head to the side and watched the emotions flicker across her face.

“It doesn’t matter who you are then.” She stared over my shoulder, her voice soft. “If I trust my Mistress, if I wish to be her slave and complete my training…”

“Exactly,” I said. With a loud sigh I stood up and stretched. “You always have a choice and a safeword, but I need to know what you’re going to do. I have a deadline, so if you’re only here to chat and be bratty, I’d prefer to do it after writing hours.”

Her green eyes widened and then dropped. Her fingers began their twisting dance inside her pockets. “I choose to submit.”

The words passed her lips, and I was suddenly in motion, a fistful of her silky hair tight in my grasp. I pulled her head back with a vicious tug and watched as her full lips parted with a gasp. I kissed her hard on the lips, my teeth snagging her lower lip as I pulled away. I slowly pressed into the rosy flesh until she winced and growled into the pink shell of her ear.

“Thank you for your submission, my present, and in return for it I intend to beat your precious ass. Now go to your knees, little girl, and address me properly before I get my toys.”

“Yes, Mistress,” she answered.

I traced a fingernail along her spine as she knelt to kiss the arch of my foot. Goosebumps traced across her skin and she shivered.

Oh how I loved a good birthday present.


1 Comment »

  1. Devasha says:

    …and all i got for my birthday was flowers, candy and a card…..

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