Chapter 1: Birthday Present

My name is Brad, and I was raised differently from most boys. I lived in a separate house from my mother, with my father. I would see her on special occasions, but that was once or twice a year. I had two servants, Gertrude and Mable, who took care of my housekeeping and cooking.

My dad would spend about half the time with me and half the time with my mother, Catherine. When I asked him why, he just smiled and said, “You’ll understand one day.”

I went to public school, like most other kids, until I had my first wet dream. I told my father, like he had told me to, and he pulled me out of school that day. After that, all my school classes were online.

Soon afterward, my father started sending me video files of couples having sex. It started out with standard missionary position, then ones with other poses. As time passed they progressed to women getting spanked while they were being fucked, two women with one guy, and ultimately two girls having sex together.

Needless to say, these videos led to a lot of jerking off.

My father never talked about the videos, except after the first file. He asked if I had received it, and that if I had any questions I should feel free to ask him.

After my fifteenth birthday, my dad made several changes. First, he took me out for driving lessons. He said that when I turned sixteen I should be an excellent driver. Once a week, he took me out and taught me every aspect of driver safety. By the time I was sixteen, I could steer, back, and park like a pro.

Second, he opened his ledgers to me, and taught me about his investments. He showed me how to invest, and how the stock market worked. He took me out to look at potential land purchases, and what to look for when investing in real estate. Soon, he was asking my opinion on what investment to buy or sell; and he took my advice seriously! He started making multi-million dollar deals based on my choices.

Lastly, my father moved out completely of what he considered to be my house. His old bedroom was now empty. He came by often, but he always rang the doorbell and waited for me or my servants to answer.

He never slept over either. After my two servants left, I was completely alone. I was glad there was a security system installed.

On my sixteenth birthday, as I was finishing breakfast, the doorbell rang. My father was there with a big grin on his face. In his hands was a set of car keys. “Happy Birthday, Brad,” he exclaimed.

In the driveway, beside my father’s BMW, was a shiny new silver Mercedes convertible.

I hugged him, grabbed the keys and sprinted to my car.

“Now, you know where you are going?” he asked.

“Not really. Just thought I would just cruise around.”

My father shook his head, “You need to go to the DMV. You can go there on the Learner’s Permit you have now. But you need to get legal.”

I smacked my forehead, “You’re right.”

“Then you can go cruise up and down the coast. Call me when you get back. Our real celebration starts at dinner.”

I went to the DMV, and took the driving test. After the written exam, they told me to wait in my car for the driving test examiner. My examiner who opened the passenger door, was a not-unattractive woman in her thirties. It occurred to me that she was the first pre-menopausal woman I had been near since puberty, except for my mother.

Her presence, seated next to me in my car was initially very distracting. I got an erection that was not obvious, since I was sitting. She was very professional, and not flirty at all. I got over my distraction and passed the test with flying colors. The examiner even complimented me on my driving skills.

We went back inside together, and she issued me my brand new California driver’s license.

I went back to my car and took off down the highway. I wound up down at San Diego. I mentally kicked myself for not bringing my swimsuit. I drove around the city, which I had been to, but never alone.

Around noon I got a sandwich and smoothie. I knew I was having a fancy dinner so I didn’t eat too much.

I then headed back home. Using the car’s GPS it was no problem finding my way back.

I got home around 4pm and called my dad to check-in as he’d requested. I then went into my room, took a nap, and watched some TV. Around six, I looked for the right clothes to wear for my dinner out.

At seven, my father arrived. He had under his arm a leather-bound folder. Knowing me, he let me drive us to the best steakhouse in the San Fernando Valley.

I had never been there, so he took the opportunity to teach me the finer points of dining at a fine restaurant. The meal was delicious.

I was grateful that he did not tell the waiter that today was my birthday. I do not like being a public spectacle.

My dad seemed to read my mind, “Gertrude has made you a cake. It is waiting for you at home.

“Before we leave, I want to give you your second gift.” He handed me that leather folder.

Inside was a portfolio of all the assets that he had transferred to my name. It was roughly a quarter of all his assets, including the deed to my house, and all the investment choices I had made in the last year. There was also a bank account with a hundred thousand dollars in cash.

It left me speechless. The total worth was in the tens of millions. It was an incredibly generous gift.

“You are now a man. You are responsible for your own well-being. I believe that I trained you well enough that you will thrive and prosper with what I am starting you with. You can call me any time for advice. You don’t have to take it.”

“Thank you, so much,” I finally managed to get out.

“Look in the back.”

The last page in the portfolio was a legal writ of emancipation.

My dad handed me a pen. “All you need to do is sign it on the bottom and you will legally be an adult.

I signed the blank space, then handed the form to my father.

“Congratulations,” he said. “I’ll have it notarized tomorrow.”

Back at my house, we ate cake and ice cream. The servants and my father sang “Happy Birthday”.

As my father was on his way out the door, he said, “There is a third birthday gift. I think it is the best one yet.”

Better than the first two? That boggled my mind, “What is it?” I asked.

He smiled, “You’ll see.”

That night, I was lying in bed, thinking about that driving instructor. I got a hard-on, and was about to jerk off, when I heard the beeping of the house alarm. There came the sound of someone pushing the code into the system, and the alarm resetting. Had one my servants forgot something, and came back? That must be it, I concluded.

Then I heard the sound of someone walking around the entry area, and the rustling of paper. That made me decide to investigate.

It is at this point that I should tell you about my house’s entry area. It is a fairly large room in front of the doorway. It has a sofa, low table, and two chairs. Beyond that set up is a large window with a panoramic view of my grassy backyard.

That night there was a full moon that illuminated the room through the big window ... Lit by the silvery light was a girl with straight blonde hair, kneeling between the couch and the window. She was completely nude, with large breasts, a button nose, and blue eyes. Her hair was very long. It ran down her back and onto the floor behind her. When she stood up, it went down to her knees. Her head was bowed. She wasn’t even looking at me.

I was stymied for a minute. What do you say to a naked girl? “Can I help you?” I finally asked.

She spoke softly but clearly, “I am your birthday present from your father. If you will have me, I will be your sex slave for life.”

Again, I was stumped. “Do you have a name?” I asked.

“I have no name, Master. If you wish, you can give me a name. I have been called Girl, Woman, Slave, Bitch, Cunt, Whore, and other names.”

Behind her was a paper bag. She reached back and pulled a black nylon collar out of it. Still kneeling, she held up the collar with both hands. “If you accept me as your sex slave, put this collar around my neck. Claim me as your property.”

“Stand up, and let me take a good look at you.”

She nodded and effortlessly rocked back on her heels, and stood up. She must have practiced that move many times.

The girl was about the same age as me, maybe a year younger. She was a head shorter than my six foot height.