Chapter 1

I could not pay any attention at work; somehow, commodity futures were not as interesting as my upcoming birthday present. Lynette, my live-in girlfriend, promised me something special for my birthday. "Something special" always means some new way for me to enjoy her luscious young body; last year, it meant her tight ass which she had always been afraid to give me. I wondered, thrill with anticipation what would it be this time, why did she need a whole weekend, and why did she go to our friends' desert home on Thursday to "prepare."

At four, I could take it no longer; I also could not hide the raging hard on that had been bothering me for the whole afternoon. I hopped on the car and drove into the desert. Lynette; thoughts of my dark haired beauty raced through my head as I tried to keep my speed reasonably near the limit. She began exploring her submissive side last year, after I took her anal virginity. It intrigued her how, something that hurt her so much could excite her so. It helped that she was a psychology major.

"It's you," she said one evening, "I wouldn't do it otherwise, but I love you and I know that you like to ... do me, there."

She did not like then, or now, to use coarse language.

"So," she continued, "I don't mind the pain as much, since I know it gives you so much pleasure."

"It will get easier soon," I said kissing her firm, pink lips, "and I'll be careful."

"Don't; it's OK that it hurts. It means more to me that way."

That's how it all started. It was easy to lead her down the road to submission; she was pliant, obedient, almost, but not quite, eager; even when I took her curly, shoulder length hair and rammed my cock down her throat until she gagged.

What were her plans for my birthday?

I parked the car in the gravel driveway and rang the bell. Brett Jones opened the door.

I walked out of the desert heat, into the foyer.

"Hi Pete," he said.

"Hi," I glanced around expecting to see Lynette, but she wasn't anywhere in sight, nor was there anyone else.

I followed him into the living room. He poured me a Scotch.

"What's going on?" I asked, "Where is Lynette?"

He motioned me to a chair and sat down himself.

"She's almost ready; she is anxious to kiss you," he said. "Now, I have to prepare you."

I sipped my drink, "Why all this mystery."

"Peter: Lynette is a very special young woman. She's been preparing, we've been preparing this for a month."

He stood up and paced slowly about the room.

"She wanted to create something very special for you. I believe she has."

"Will you tell me what it is already?"

He shook his head slightly, "Three days of pain; severe, brutal, extreme pain."

I jumped up. "No!"

"No, she's not ready, not for that. I refuse."

He shook his head with more emphasis, "Lynette thought you would say that."

I just looked at him.

"She knew you would refuse her sacrifice, even though you'd like to receive her gift," Brett continued, "so she built in a safeguard, for you."

"Even if you were to leave now," he turned towards me, "she would have to endure it, just the same. She made me promise her that we, Olga and I would go on with it, regardless."

I sat back on the couch, stunned, stymied. There was really nothing I could do to spare Lynette.

"There is one more thing." Brett added.

He called out, through the open door "Jane!"

A young, beautiful blonde girl not more than an inch taller than five feet came in. She wore a light blue shift like mini dress that barely reached the tops of her thighs. Its gossamer fabric enhanced her charms, revealing also that she had nothing underneath. Her small, pedicured feet were bare.

"Hi," she said looking at me through large, playful eyes.