Hey Nineteen (Part 1)

Hey, Nineteen (Part 1} 

Between Ms Sally, Ms Margie and Ms Patricia, my eighteenth year had certainly been a wild one.  

“Mike has a birthday coming up.” mentioned Ms Patricia. “Any ideas for his party?” They joked that they knew exactly what I needed, then sent me into another room where I couldn’t eavesdrop on their plans.  

With every horny or twisted suggestion, they would just giggle and say things like “It may not be what he WANTS, … but it’s damn sure what he NEEDS.”

Throughout my birthday month, all three mistresses strictly forbade any orgasm release.  I was not permitted to masturbate except under their supervision.  They claimed they’d know if I cheated, and warned that I’d most certainly regret any infractions.  Male cock cages were not yet a thing.  I diligently obeyed the orders of my tormentors.  It was frustrating, to say the least.  

Ms Margie hosted the event.  I had no idea how many people she invited, but several ladies ventured through the store and mentioned they were looking forward to it -often with a wink & a smile. 

The week before, my Mistresses began giving me more specific instructions.  Everything was done to test my obedience, heighten my arousal, increase my frustration and increase my trust levels.  

My birthday fell on a Saturday.  I worked until 4 PM that day, with the following Sunday off. I’m usually a hard worker, but I hadn’t really gotten anything done because I was sooooo distracted I couldn't concentrate on anything. 

About an hour before quitting time, a cashier named Donna handed me a birthday card.  I opened it politely and read the handwritten note inside from Ms Sally: “I’m sure you will make me very proud tonight.” 

Donna smiled slyly and said, “Happy birthday, you lucky boy”. 

Thirty minutes to quitting time, Lisa, another cashier, brought me another card. This one was from Ms. Margie.  It was an invitation to my own party.  The sentiment made some joke about birthday spankings.  Inside the invitation was a handwritten note that said, “6 PM. Be showered and shaved.  Park your motorcycle in the garage and follow the instructions you find there.” 

Lisa giggled shuffler her feet and looked down. “I hope you have fun tonight”, she said as she scurried away.  

I got off work and rushed back to my place to get showered and shaved. Manscaping wasn’t really a thing yet, but I diligently followed my instructions as I used the home haircut kit they’d issued along with the instructions that my pubes must not be long enough to curl.  My cock was throbbing so badly that my shower had been nearly impossible to adhere to my ‘no masturbation’ directive, but I got through it by strategically aiming the cold water. 

Time to get dressed. It was the disco era, and I looked like a Saturday Night Fever extra.  Satin print shirt that only buttoned to the sternum, yellowish multicolored panel bell-bottom pants, and half-boots. Instead of a necklace, I put on the choker collar from Ms. Sally Ann.  There were a couple of smaller padlocks also  attached now. One for Ms Margie, the other for Ms Patricia. 

As I gathered my gear to ride to Ms Margie’s party in my honor, my head was so swirling with anxiousness and possibilities that it’s a wonder I didn’t get into an accident!

I arrived a few minutes early, and did as instructed.  I put the motorcycle in the garage and closed the overhead  door behind me. A card table was in the middle of the parking space, topped with a paper party-themed tablecloth.  On the table was a wind-up clock, and  envelopes, labeled #1, #2, #3, #4.  On each was written “Read in Order. Follow Instructions.”  

My head was spinning a bit as I opened envelope #1. 

A lipstick kiss decorated an index card that read, 

STRIP NAKED. WAIT. 

DO NOT OPEN #2 UNTIL 6:15

PS - HANDS OFF. NO TOUCHING!

So much for all my concern about what to wear! As I dumped my disco duds onto the floor, I noticed a laundry bag folded under the table.  So I put all my clothes into the bag.  

Standing there naked, I began to regret my oh-so-early arrival! My mind swirled with possibilities.  Was my birthday party going to be a nudist event?  I had plenty of time to fantasize, but every thought just further challenged my no-touch order!  

The detached two car garage was behind the two story main house. The back yard was surrounded by a high privacy fence, and the neighbors homes were all single story.  So, it seemed unlikely there’d be unwanted spectators spying on the event.

6:15 PM finally, finally arrived.  I tore open envelope #2.  It likewise had a lipstick kiss, but in a different shade and obviously different lips).

SQUEEZE YOUR PUD AND YOUR BALLS 19 TIMES.

NO STROKING. NO SQUIRTING. THEN HANDS OFF.

WAIT. DO NOT OPEN ENVELOPE #3 UNTIL 6:30

My mind reeled as I tried to work out the instructions. Should I squeeze my cock 19 times in a row, then my balls 19 times in a row? Or should I squeeze my balls first then my cock? Or should I alternate between them 19 times?  I settled on alternating  It seemed far less likely to cause me to accidentally erupt.  

Squeeze my cock, count to ten.  Release.

Squeeze my balls, count to ten.  Release.  ONE!

Squeeze my cock, count to ten.  Release.

Squeeze my balls, count to ten.  Release.  TWO!

Squeeze my cock, count to ten.  Release.

Squeeze my balls, count to ten.  Release.  THREE!

My amusement turned to frustration, then back to amusement.  

Squeeze my cock, count to ten.  Release.

Squeeze my balls, count to ten.  Release.  FOUR!

Squeeze my cock, count to ten.  Release.

Squeeze my balls, count to ten.  Release.  FIVE!

Repeat. Again and again until I got to 19.  

There was some clear pre-cum starting to show. Had they been there, Ms Margie or Ms Sally would most likely have wiped it off and placed it on my lips or tongue.  But I was alone, so I reached into the laundry bag and wiped the ‘chastity tears’ off with my underwear.  

All this took a few minutes, so I had only a short time to wait until the clock struck 6:30 PM.  

Envelope #3 was a larger manila envelope like they use for office distribution.  I noticed it wasn’t exactly flat.  I heard a metallic ‘ding’ as I lifted it and tore it open.

Inside I found a red cat collar with a little silver bell. And another index card, kiss-marked in a third shade of lipstick from obviously different lips.

PUT THE KITTY COLLAR AROUND YOUR COCK & BALLS.  RING THE INTERCOM BELL TWICE.  WAIT ONE MINUTE, THEN OPEN #4

I wrapped the kitty collar around the base of my scrotum, crossing it over in front, separating my balls, then wrapped it twice around the shaft before securing it and   maneuvered the contraption until the bell was seated prominently on top, the way Ms Margie liked it. 

I briefly admired my handiwork and then rang the home intercom bell twice in rapid succession.  I watched the second hand on my watch make a full circle around, then opened envelope #4.

The large index card inside had all three kiss marks.

RUN NAKED TO THE BACK PORCH FOR YOUR NEXT ENVELOPE! 

I was so wound up it didn’t even occur to me to be embarrassed! I opened the side door and ran down the sidewalk towards the closed in screen porch at the back of the house. All I could see was the door. Once I was on 

that porch, I’d theoretically have a little privacy - at least as much as I could expect given the circumstances. Then I started laughing. Who was I kidding? There was no backing out. I was in this now!  I was so focused on the door that I never noticed the two people taking Polaroid pictures from the bushes!

As I climbed the porch steps, I could see a large gift bag positioned in front of the door.  The usual welcome mat had been replaced by the large dog bed pad that Ms Margie used for my training.  I dutifully kneeled onto my dog bed as soon as I reached it.  

Attached to the gift bag by a paper clip, envelope & kiss-card #5  instructed:  PUT ALL THIS ON, THEN STAY LIKE A GOOD BOY UNTIL SOMEONE LETS YOU IN.

I opened the bag and began to get a look at what “all this” included. 

A 3” studded dog collar, a heavy leather leash, four studded biker-style leather wrist cuffs, a set of stereo headphones with fake fur dog ears glued on, and a blindfold.

Ok… so now I’m really getting nervous.  The window was covered by aluminum foil, and I couldn’t see that high anyway because my kneeling position had me too low to see inside even if they hadn’t been covered.  As I secured my blindfold, I could hear giggles, laughter and a whole lot of movement on the other side of that door. Most of that faded as I slipped into my puppy ear headphones.

I then dutifully assumed the “SIT” position and awaited the opening of the door.  I could hear faint noises, but not make out speech.  My sight was well and truly obscured.  I could hear my heartbeat.  My fingers and nose began to tingle.  My erection was straining against the kitty collar bond. Flexing it only made things worse. Touching it was out of the question.  I really hoped I wasn’t oozing any more chastity tears.  But if I was it was too late now! 

Questions started to form in my head as I reflected on how I’d gotten here.  How many guests were here?  I hadn’t seen any cars parked in front as I arrived.  But then, I had arrived very early.  From the movement I’d heard, it sounded like quite a few.  I was excited and mortified all at the same time.  I was no stranger to voyeurs on my “Long & Kinky Road”, but this situation really felt different.  

As I waited, I reflected on my first encounter with Ms Sally Ann the 24 year old student teacher disciplinarian who mostly used me as a bull to humiliate her submissive boyfriend, who introduced me to 32 year old Ms Margie who played with me and trained me with the full knowledge and approval of her often-deployed military husband, and finally meeting Ms Patricia.  Ms Patricia was 42, and had an amazing “Mommy Dom” energy.  All three women knew one another, and had decided together that investing in taming this angry young gangster wannabe was worth their time and energy.  (I think time proved them right, if I do say so myself!) 

Vibrations of footsteps through the floor.  Someone was coming!  Vibrations from the rattle of the skeleton key door handle.  A rush of air-conditioned wind chilled the sweat from my body as the door finally opened.