Anniv-Her-sary Present free porn video

Anniv-her-sary Present by Suzi Johnson ****** I lay helpless on the bed. My hands are tied to the bedposts with my wife's nylon stockings, and a pair of her panties are stuffed in my mouth. But this is not one of the gentle B&D games that married people sometimes play - no, it goes much further than that. You see, I am wearing an old-fashioned black Victorian corset, tightly laced up the back, which molds my body into an hourglass shaped feminine figure with a 22 inch waist. My hormone-enhanced breasts swell upward, filling and overflowing the cups of the corset. My testicles have been pushed back up inside me, and my cock is flattened and pulled back by a laced up leather pouch that attaches to two eyelets at the back of the corset, the laces bisecting my ass. Other than the hair on my head, thin eyebrows and a heart-shaped patch of pubic hair, electrolysis has been used to remove every other hair on my body. My face is fully madeup with cosmetics, and long false eyelashes are glued firmly in place on my eyelids. I glance upward at my hands and see the ruby red nail polish that coats my inch long fingernails. My sleek legs are covered by seamed black sheer nylons, and on my feet are six inch high heels of black patent leather, secured by tiny padlocks that fasten to straps that encircle my ankles. The soles of my shoes and the spike heels are flat against the bed, thrusting my stockinged calves straight upward at a painful and unnatural angle. Under my hips is a large cushion which lifts and exposes my ass. Filling my psuedo-pussy is a triple-rippled butt plug that sends a continual burning sensation through me as it stretches me beyond belief. My long brunette hair has been artfully arranged around my head and over my breasts by my wife. When she was satisfied with how her subservient husband looked, she had walked out of the room, promising only to return eventually. I am in pain from the tight-lacing, the butt plug that fills me, and from the tortured position of my body, but not at all unhappy. As I lay here, my mind recounts the events that led up to this day. It had begun innocently enough one winter day exactly five years before: I had just finished my morning shower as my wife and I were getting ready for work. I walked out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around my waist, and was searching for a pair of undershorts. "Hey, hon," I said, "there's no underwear in here - did you do the wash?" "Dammit, I got so involved with the work I brought home last night, I forgot to put the last load into the dryer," Joanne apologized, "I'm sorry, that must have been your underwear." "That's OK, I'll just go without them today," I said. But when I pulled on my suit pants, I knew that wasn't going to work. The heavy wool winter suit immediately began to chafe my cock, and I knew that it would be rubbed raw before the day was over. "This won't work," I told her, explaining the problem. "I have to be on time today because of an important client meeting, so I can't wait for them to dry. I don't even have a dirty pair I can put on." "The only thing I can think of," Joanne said, "is for you to wear a pair of my panties - at least you won't be in pain all day." "C'mon," I said, "you've got to be kidding - I can't wear a pair of panties to work." "Well, if you can come up with another solution, feel free, but no one will ever know." There wasn't much time to debate the issue if we were going to make our train, so I finally agreed. She took out a pair of pink nylon tap panties and tossed them to me. "Hurry up, we're going to be late," she said. I quickly pulled the panties on, and saw that they were the feminine equivalent of boxer shorts, unlike the bikinis or briefs that she usually wore. They were tight at the waist, of course, but the rest of the panty was designed to be loose around the body. On me, the silky material fit snugly around the hips, but there was some room at the legs. I finished getting dressed, and we hurried to the station. We almost missed the train, and were the last two to board. There was only one seat left and Joanne sat down, and I stood next to her, holding onto her seat back. We didn't try to talk above the noise of the train, so I just stood there, swaying from the motion. And I noticed something strange - the smooth feel of the panties sliding against my cock as my body moved back and forth was sending weird sensations through me, the sweet friction causing me to get an erection. Had I been wearing a regular pair of panties, which would have been form-fitting, the slight movement of my body wouldn't have done anything, I don't think. But the tap panties' loose fit was causing this strange reaction. When the train pulled in, and we were on the platform, Joanne teased me, as we prepared to head off in different directions, "Well, have a good day - I know I will, since for sure you won't be able to cheat on me today." "Hey, that's not fair," I responded, "you know I'm absolutely faithful to you!" "Yes, I know that, but I have to admit, I will probably think about you wearing my panties all day long. It is pretty funny, you'll have to admit." "You're a riot, Alice, a regular riot," I answered in my best Jackie Gleason imitation. "I'll see you later," I said, kissing her goodbye. I went down to the subway, and when the train pulled in, I stood up, even though there were a few seats available. That was unusual, but the strange sensations from the panties was really affecting me, and I wanted to continue the feeling. By the time I got into the office, what had just been a regular hardon had changed into a throbbing, pulsating being with a mind of its own! I went into the bathroom, closed the stall door, and pulled down my suit pants. My cock was held in place for almost its whole length by the panties, with just the tip being rubbed by the smooth, loose nylon. I stood there, rubbing the bottom of the panties against my cock until I was on the verge of coming, then I pulled up the leg a little and caught the spurting mass of jism in my hand. Unbelievable, I thought, that this could have happened. I had to hurry into the meeting, and gave it no further thought. But as I sat there, the slightest movement caused the same reaction, and when the meeting was over, I hurried into the bathroom again. The same thing happened once more during the afternoon, and as I rode the late train home, I found myself standing, although there were plenty of seats. I couldn't get enough of this wonderful feeling! The walk home was sweet agony as my stride caused a continual rubbing of panty on cock, and when I opened the door, Joanne was standing there, laughing, holding a pair of my jockey shorts up in the air. "I was giggling to myself all day, thinking about my hubby in his sweet little pink panties. But you were so busy, you probably never even though about it." Before I could say a word, she swooped down, opened my coat, and pulled down my pants, saying as she did it, "Here, I'll change you back right .." She stopped talking, as she stared in amazement at my very obvious hardon inside my, her, panties. "I ... I ...they just keep rubbing against me," I managed to stammer, "and ..." Joanne knelt down in front of me, and raising the leg of the panty just a bit, licked on the tip of my cock. She looked up mischievously, and said in a teasing voice,"does my hubby wike his pwetty pink panties, do they feel good on his wittle weenie?" Without waiting for an answer her mouth encircled me and she proceeded to suck me to a gasping climax. When she stood up, she took my hand and led me upstairs. Kissing me deeply, she took off all my clothes, except for the panties, and practically through me down on the bed. Just lifting the panty leg enough to free my cock, she straddled me, not even stopping to take off her clothes, except for her panties, and impaled herself on me. My cock, having had all the activity of the day was slow to respond, but as she began to pump up and down on me, the panties began to rub on the cheeks of my ass. When I tried to put my hands on her breasts, she grabbed both my wrists and raised them over my head, pinning me down with the weight of her body. I had never seen her turned on like this - it almost seemed as if she were a totally different person. Her body shuddered in climax, but she continued her motions, and in quick succession, she came twice more. She lay on top of me, trying to catch her breath, and I rested there in my panties. When we finally spoke, she had no explanation of why seeing me hard in panties had that effect on her, no more than I could explain why, aside from the sweet friction, which to be honest, had become secondary to just the erotic thoughts the idea gave me, wearing them affected me either. Having reached no conclusion, just more questions, we got up for dinner. I felt odd still wearing the panties, though, so under my robe I put on a pair of my own underwear. After dinner we watched some television, but I don't think Joanne paid any more attention to it than I did. The memory of how the panties had felt on me kept intruding, as much as I tried to ignore them, dismissing them as silly. I was a man, after all, and men didn't wear panties, I rationalized, but my subconscious kept prodding: but didn't they feel wonderful? When we went up to bed, Joanne slipped into a nightgown, and another strange thought popped into my head: would that feel like panties covering my entire body. We said goodnight, but I lay awake for a long time, confused and troubled, before I finally fell into an unsettled sleep. Routine took over the next morning, but when I came back to the bedroom after my shower, Joanne was giggling, holding a pair of my shorts in one hand, with her other hand behind her back. "Here you go, dear, unless," she said, bringing her other hand into view, "you'd rather wear these?" In other her hand was a pair of tap panties, but this time black ones. "Don't be a comedian," I said, taking the jockey shorts from her, but I found myself giving more than a quick glance at the silky panties. I was really off my feed at work all day, and a couple of people commented that I seemed to be someplace else. What the problem was, of course, was the thoughts that persisted in my head of yesterday's panties and the black one from this morning. I didn't say anything to Joanne that night about the day, but our conversation did seem a little strained. I felt a little horny that night when we went to bed, and I tried to get Joanne interested, but, very unusually, she said, "I'm kind of ... tired tonight, dear, maybe tomorrow. The next day and evening passed, and when we again were in bed, and I tried to get something going, Joanne suddenly sat up and said, "We have to talk." She confessed that she had been thinking about my panty-wearing day, strange thoughts, and remembering how excited she had gotten when she saw me in my panties. I also confessed, interrupting her, about how the memory of those panty-clad hours kept recurring to me. "W ... would you mind wearing panties again to make love to me?" she asked hesitantly. The turn-down of last night, plus the constant intusion of the memories had made me horny, very horny. "Hell, Joanne, I don't care," I answered, "I just want to make love to you!" She grinned at me, and jumped out of bed, returning in a second with the black tap pants. "Black panties tonight, because you've been bad," she said, and I pulled them up noticing that my cock responded immediately with a huge hardon. She felt it and stroked me all over my pantied ass and groin. She again jumped into the female superior position, and pinned me to the bed. Again, she was like a wild woman, bringing me to a giant climax, while I felt her spasm twice, then a third and fourth time. She rolled off me, and as we lay there next to each other, she said, "that was wonderful, better than ever!" And I could only agree with her, cuddling close to her, until we both fell into a deep untroubled sleep. I awoke the next morning when the alarm rang with another erection, and when she looked down at me, she immediately saw it. "Did you enjoy sleeping in the panties, dear? It sure looks like you did!" She swooped down to start licking on me, then shifted around into a "69" position. I slid my head under her nightgown, and pulling her panties to one side, began to suck and lick her sweet pussy. She rolled herself over, so that she was on top of me, pushing herself against my face, while she teased my panty covered cock. Her thighs tightened around my head as she orgasmed, then she sucked the entire length of my cock down into her throat, as she rubbed her face from side to side against the black nylon, until she had swallowed every drop of my essence. Our little lovemaking session had thrown off our schedule, or at least that's how I rationalized skipping my shower that morning. And, of course, since I hadn't showered, there really wasn't any need to change what I was wearing, was there? I didn't say anything but I could feel Joanne's eyes on me as I put my suit on over the black panties. We sat next to each other on the train, each of us thinking our private thoughts. I was wondering what her reaction was going to be to my wearing panties again, and if she was going to say anything. She didn't until we were pulling in, when she leaned over, gave me a kiss, whispered, "Have a wonderful day, dear," and putting her hand on my crotch, stroked, then squeezed my cock. I knew that she had accepted my panty-wearing when she did that, and I was glad that she did, because I knew that I would continue doing it. I managed to restrain myself that day, anticipating another evening of lovemaking. When I walked through the door, Joanne was standing there smiling and holding a gift-wrapped package. I kissed her `hello' and she returned it passionately, then handed me the package. "I was thinking about you today, and I realized that with both of us wearing my panties, I'd run short, so I went out and got you a present," she said. I ripped off the paper and opened the box. Inside were a dozen pair of panties. "Besides," she continued, "you really need a larger size." I stood there, and began to take out each pair of my new panties and look at them. She had gotten me panties in what seemed like every color of the rainbow! And in all different styles, as well. "This is the best present you ever bought me," I gushed, revealing without any doubt my innermost feelings. "Enjoy them, dear," she said, reaching down and stroking my erect cock, "because I know I will." There was no question after that - I wore panties every day, and I found that I loved every color and style! Bikinis, briefs, taps, nylon, lace, satin, black, red, white, every single pair of panties felt just fantastic. And our lovemaking kept up both its frequency and intensity as a result, as Joanne continued to be as aroused as ever by the thought and sight of her husband in panties. It was a bitter cold early February day about a month later - the weather report on the radio had predicted possible sub-zero temperatures all day. I had just pulled on a pair of extra-lacy red bikini panties when I said, "Damn, I hate the cold, I'll be freezing my butt off all day. I have appointments all over the city, and I'll be outside for hours." Joanne responded, without even thinking, "Yes, its going to be terrible out, too bad you don't wear pantyhose like I do, because they really keep you warm." All of a sudden, we looked at each other, and realized what she had just said. Without another word, she pulled a second pair of pantyhose out of her drawer and handed them to me. I silently took them, and watching how she put them on, I mimicked her actions, rolling up each leg, inserting my foot, then unrolling them up over my legs. We stood up and raised the panty portion over our panties, and I thought I was going to faint as the feeling I had only experienced from the panties, spread all over the lower half of my body. The smooth sensation of nylon on flesh caressed me all over, and I knew that I would be warm all day, and from more than just the covering of the pantyhose! My suit pants were a little loose when I put them on, and I knew that the deliciously tight pantyhose had shaped and molded my lower body. The gentle friction I had only felt against my ass and cock was now expanded enormously as pant legs rubbed against the gossamer that covered my entire leg. It was wonderful. That night, Joanne had another present for me, and when I opened it up, I saw that she had bought me my own supply of pantyhose. I wore both panties and hose every day to work, and it got to be so very natural. Then, one bitter cold night at the end of the month, I off-handedly remarked when we had gotten into bed, "God, these sheets are freezing!" Joanne looked at me and smiling, she got out of bed, walked over to her dresser and got out a pink nightgown for me. I eagerly put it on, and for the first time the sensations I had felt on my lower body extended all over me. She ran her hands over my entire body and we made love in a twisting, swirling tangle of flesh and feminine fabrics. Joanne bought me my own nightgowns the next day. The escalation of my strange habit continued, and before long, I was wearing camisoles, padded bras, and other wonderful things around the house every evening and all day on the weekends. I even began to wear camisoles out under my clothes, in addition to my panties and pantyhose on Saturdays and Sundays. I wore a jacket for as long as I could that spring, and only when it truly turned to summer, did I have to cut back to wearing only those dainties that would be covered by my pants. Joanne made up for it though, by buying me a couple of sexy shorts and tops that I could wear around the house. Before we knew it, a year had passed, a glorious year of satin and lace. One thing that had definitely changed during that time was our lovemaking. We only made love, of course, with me dressed in feminine clothing, and Joanne was clearly the aggressive partner, and called all the shots. As I felt more of my gentler female side come out when I was dressed, she seemed to compensate by assuming more and more of the dominant role. But I didn't mind a bit, and we were as happy as any two people could be. It was January 10th, exactly one year to the day from when I had worn my first pair of panties, though I really hadn't thought about it. When I walked in the door, Joanne was standing there holding a large box. "Do you know what today is, sweetheart?" she asked. I confessed that I didn't, and as she handed me the package, she said, "Its our anniv-her-sary. You've been wearing panties for a whole year, and I bought you a special outfit to celebrate. Why don't you go upstairs and change, and I'll be up in a few minutes with some champagne." I gave her a big thank-you kiss, and hurried upstairs to open my present. When I did, I sat back, stunned. Inside the box were the most wonderful thing I had even seen, a white laceup torsolette, and a bunch of boxes that promised even more. I stripped off my clothes, and began to get dressed: I slipped the satin and spandex torsolette over my arms, and began lacing it up from the bottom. It was very tight, pulling in my waist and shaping me into an hourglass silhouette. I opened the next package and put on the white seamed stockings I found inside, attaching the stocking tops to the six hanging garters of the torsolette. The next package contained a frilly pair of white satin sissy-panties with row after row of white lace. They felt so wonderful as I raised them up my legs, caressing the sheer nylon that covered my legs. Inside the next box were a pair of fleah-colored breast forms which I gently arranged inside the cups of the torsolette. I took one brief glance at myself in the mirror, loving the feminine figure that looked back out at me, then tore myself away to open the rest of the packages. The next box contained a pair of high-heeled white patent leather pumps, at least 3 inches high, and I immediately slipped my stockinged feet into them. I teetered a little at the unaccustomed height, as I saw the tremendous difference they made to the shape of my legs. There were only two boxes remaining, and I opened one to find a white silk sheath gown. When I held it up, it reminded me of a wedding gown, with long sleeves, cuffed with a band of lace, and I slipped it over my head, sliding my arms into the sleeves, and allowing its silken length to slide down over my body. It fit perfectly over my newly shaped body, tight around my breasts and down to the waist, then flaring slightly to fit my hips in a whirl of silken material. It ended at floor length in back, rising slightly in front to expose my ankles and high heels. The form-fitting dress restrained the length of my stride as I went to get the last box. Inside was a shoulder length brunette wig, and as I was putting it on, Joanne came into the room with the champagne and two glasses. She poured, and handing me a glass, adjusted the wig on my head. She made a toast, "To the virgin bride," and we sipped the wine. I had never felt so wonderful, and she said that she adored how I looked, kissing me strongly on the lips. She took me by the hand and led me to her dressing table. I sat there, and, for the first time, she applied cosmetics to my face, foundation, powder, false eyelashes, eye shadow, lipstick and blush. She then put false nails, already polished deep red, on my fingertips. She handed me my champagne, and I was amazed at how feminine my hand looked, with the long nails encircling the glass. We sipped the champagne, clicking the glasses against each other, and then she stepped away from in front of the mirror, allowing me to see myself. I stared at the beautiful woman that I had been transformed into. "Does my lovely virgin like what she sees?" she asked, but I was incapable of speech, and could only nod, `yes'. "I've prepared us a nice dinner, dear," Joanne said, "let's go downstairs." I followed her lead, adjusting to the strange feelings of the heels and the sheath gown, as well as the restraining grip of the underthings. During the meal, Joanne kept complimenting me on how beautiful I looked, and continued to keep our glasses filled with champagne. When we had finished the first bottle, another magically appeared, as though from thin air, and I felt myself getting more than a little high. "I'd better slow down a bit," I said, "or I'll be totally wasted." "Don't worry, sweetheart," she answered, "I'll take care of you." There was music playing in the background, and she asked me to dance with her. I automatically raised my left hand, but she whispered, "I think I'll lead," and she nestled me close against her. I swayed along, following her lead, high from the wine, and trying to maneuver in the highheeled shoes. We danced through several songs, until she softly asked, "Shall we go upstairs now?" I squeezed her a little tighter, and kissed her in answer. She became quite animated when we got into the bedroom, running her hands all over my silken body, then she reached down and began to remove my gown. I was sorry to feel it leave my body, but I wanted to make love to her so badly. "I have one more surprise for you, dear one; come lay down in bed. When I did, still fully clothed in the frilly white underthings and heels, she said, "I want this to be a real surprise," and she blindfolded me with a silk scarf. I lay there, allowing the feelings caused by the clothes I was wearing to sweep over and through my body. I knew that I was very, very high from all that I had drunk, and I felt very vulnerable, as I felt Joanne getting into bed. She gently parted my legs, positioning herself between them, and she leaned over and removed my blindfold. Her breasts touched mine, and I whispered, "I thought you had another surprise for me." "I do, my sweet innocent, I do," and she raised her body up. I looked down, and saw - a cock protruding from her! I looked again and saw that she was wearing a harness around her waist into which a a double-sided, realistic looking false penis had been put. I saw that she had inserted one side into her pussy, and that the other was pointed directly at me. "N ...no, I ..." I began, and putting one fingertip over my red lips, she said, "don't worry, I'll be gentle." In spite of the wine, I was scared as she slipped my frilly sissy-panties down my legs, raising my thighs until my highheeled feet were flat on the bed. She slid a pillow under me, raising my hips, and I began to tremble at the thought of her invading my virgin ass. She played with my tiny rosebud with one lubricated finger, running it around and around, then gently inserting it into me. The penetration was resisted at first, but I tried to relax myself as much as possible, and she managed to insert the full length inside me. She moved it in and out, relaxing me, and I felt myself expanding, then beginning to enjoy her ministrations. Then I felt a second finger join the first, and in a little while a third. She gently expanded me until we both felt that I was ready. I felt totally submissive to her, and I felt her fingers being withdrawn, and the tip of the fake penis against me. She slowly inserted the tip, allowing me to become accustomed to the feeling, then gradually began to press more of it into me. It felt like a burning, tearing pole, splitting me in two, and tears of pain gathered in my eyes. Then I suddenly felt myself relax fully, and the entire lubricated length was inside me. I felt so much like a woman at that moment, and I realized that this was the culmination of the everything that had begun on that first fateful day when I put on the pink panties. Joanne slid herself in and out of me, and began to stroke my cock at the same time, saying "I've wanted to fuck you so much for months - I've dreamed of you like this! I wanted to play with your little clitty while I fucked your sissy boy-cunt." And I felt myself getting hotter and hotter from her words and touch, and my hips began to move in rhythm with her thrusts, as I welcomed her into my virgin hole. She gave a great gasp, and a final massive plunge into me, as her hand stroked me to a simultaneous climax. In a moment I felt her starting to withdraw from me, but I grapsed her hips and pulled her back deep inside me. "No, please, I ... please, more," I begged, not wanting to feel the emptiness without her inside me. She kissed me, and with a sweet rocking motion, gave me the pleasuring I wanted so much. Her motions quickened, as her excitement built again, and I moved in synch with her, no longer excited myself, but just wanting to experience the womanly feeling of submission to her partner's insistent penetration. From that night on, I often dressed fully, and learned with Joanne's expert teaching not only how to apply makeup, but all the things I needed to look and act more feminine. As more time passed, Joanne's newly found assertiveness stood her in good stead, as she carried over her role of strength to work. She had been promoted shortly before our anniv-her-sary, and when her boss, a vice-president resigned, she was promoted again, into his job. The salary and bonus that went with it were beyond anything we could have imagined a year before, and I felt so proud of her. The only downside was that she was working longer and harder than ever before, and was much bossier and demanding, but I found myself slipping more and more into the spousal role. I always had dinner prepared for her when she came home, and was doing most of the housework. I didn't mind at all, as I went about my chores, always fully dressed as a woman. My own career progress, unfortunately, was not nearly so successful. My work had slipped, but worse than that, the company I worked for was in serious financial trouble. One day, my boss called me in, and told me that I was being let go, as part of a company-wide layoff. I sat there stunned for a minute, my business-like exterior suit covering my panties and pantyhose. "There's nothing at all I can do?" I asked. "A transfer, anything?" He apologized, saying that he was sorry, and that I would get six months severance pay, but telling me that the decision was final. I walked out of his office in a daze, not believing that this could have happened. I cleaned out my desk, got my final check from personnel, and went home. I managed to hold it in until I got there, but as soon as I walked in, I burst into tears. I stripped off all my clothes, even my panties, and cried for hours, lying naked in our bed.. When Joanne got home, I heard her calling me, but I just lay there until she came upstairs and found me. I sobbed out what had happened, and she held me in her arms and comforted me. "Don't worry, sweetheart, I love you and I'll always take care of you." When I told her that I felt guilty, that maybe my crossdressing had changed me and caused me to be fired, she told me that, of course it had changed me, but that wasn't the reason. "I love when you dress," she said, "you know that." I put on a nightgown and robe and we went downstairs. We had something to eat, and I began to feel a little better. "Maybe you should take a little time off, hon," she finally said, "before you try to find a new job. We really don't need the money, and its been so stressful for you." I sort of agreed, but expressed my reservations. "Really, I'd like you to relax for a while, then you can find something you like." The little while stretched out, though, and I found myself dressing as a woman all the time. I was passable, really more than passable, and I was able to go outside without fear of being discovered. I began to shave my body and before long I was fully living the role of housewife. The months and weeks stretched into years, and there is no question of my ever trying to be a man again. Joanne became more and more dominant as time went on, and, in truth, we now have a Mistress-slave relationship. I have discovered that I am a truly submissive person, and want nothing more than to be able to serve her in any way she commands. I have not cut my hair, and it is now long enough to cover my breasts. One tradition we have kept up is our annual anniv-her-sary celebration; each year I am subjected to whatever present she provides me with. On our second anniv-her-sary, my ears were pieced, and all the hair was removed from my body by electrolysis. On the third, I was sent to a hospital for breast implants and hormone treatments. My Mistress loves to play with my new titties, making my nipples harden and extend, and for our fourth year, they were pierced and nipple rings were inserted. I love my Mistress, and I do anything and everything for her. I hear Mistress coming up the stairs, and I know that I am about to receive my fifth anniv-her-sary gift. My body tingles with anticipation, and I know that this will be the best present ever. She enters the room, wearing her finest black leather dominatrix outfit, a smile on her face. "Are you ready for your gift, slave Suzi?" "Oh, yes, Mistress, I am!" I cry out in the high-girlish voice that I know she likes. I look at the object that she is holding in her hands, and I am puzzled for a moment as to what it is. She bends down to plug it into the electric outlet, and holds it in front of me. The object begins to heat up and the tip glows red. She undoes the leather pouch that is holding my cock. The letter "J" can be clearly seen as the iron heats up, and as she takes hold of my exposed cock, says, "Suzi, I am going to mark you forever as my slave." As the branding iron is placed on the top of the head of my cock, and I smell my tender flesh burning, the pain shoots through me like lightning. But my thoughts are not of pain, or of my branded flesh, but rather of what next year's wonderful gift could possibly be to top this! FIN