CHAPTER 7 MY BIRTHDAY
Cindy's birthday had been in August, and my birthday was in October. We usually spent my birthday, which was only a day away from Halloween, as a joint birthday/Halloween celebration. However, with the birthday blowout that Marsha, Cindy's roommate, had orchestrated for her, I was wondering if this might also be a special birthday for me.
Cindy, Marsha and Friane had gotten quite used to using me as their Maid. Following Cindy's birthday party, and her marathon fucking by the three young studs, I had spent several days decked out in my femdom maid outfit cleaning up their house. The girls really got a kick out of sitting around in their lingerie, shooting tequila and smoking pot, while I wobbled around them in my 3-inch pumps cleaning up the remnants of their orgy. One of my task had been to collect the dozens of color coded condoms from Cindy's birthday fucking (Brad blue, Steve red, Charlie green). After I had gathered them, I had been ordered to storing them in the freezer. I wondered why Cindy had me store all those cum filled condoms, but I correctly assumed that it was not a good thing for me.
The three girls and I partied through the month of September pretty much as we always had...or almost. After Cindy's birthday and my anal rape by Marsha and cunnlingus with Friane, I was much more sexual active with those two. Weekends through September were spent getting drunk and stoned and then having four-way sex. Since I had only one tongue and one cock, two of the girls would be doing each other while I was serving the other two. Unfortunately, I never got to fuck all month long. I would spend my time eating pussy while suffering from chronic erections.
A typical September weekend night would be the four of us gathered in Cindy's and Marsha's living room, watching some porno movie (the girls seemed to love watching porno when we were all together). As we all drank and smoked, the movie would have its obvious intended effects. As we all got progressively horny, the clothes would start coming off. The girls always dressed for the occasions, sexy seductive skirts and blouses with lingerie underneath.
The four of us would start kissing and stroking each other and the outer clothes would soon be discarded. I would be left in my underwear, a thong, surrounded by four horny babes in lacy bras, bustiers, teddies, and silk panties. The girls loved the oral nature of our make-out sessions. I would find my self-covered with kisses, soft seductive kisses on my neck, chest, stomach, thighs, feet, ass, nuts and cock. I would be reciprocating by sucking tits, nipples, soft thighs, smooth asses, flat stomachs, and shaved pussies.
The girls always made sure that I had a raging hard-on. The girls would work on my cock, bringing me to the verge of orgasm, only to have them stop just before ejaculation. All the while, I would be eating pussy after pussy until they achieved multiple orgasms.
As the girls came, they would use the juices from their cunts to coating my cock and balls. In no time, I was covered from mouth to balls in their fragrant vaginal lubricants. The girls became experts at reading my body, noting the pre-cum, my breathing, the tension in my body, the rigidity of nipples...and they would always stop me just short of ejaculation.
Every time that I was about to cum, all contact with my cock would stop. I would be left moaning and begging to cum, as the girls just smiled and laughed. My only reward would be to have the harlot of the moment pull my face tighter into her steaming cunt and grind her clit harder against my tired tongue, as I ate...and ate...and ate her to orgasm.
By the end of each night, I would be reduced to a quivering pathetic moaning, groaning, begging raw piece of meat. After hours of jaw taxing, tongue fatiguing cunnlingus, the four of us would crawl into bed for the night. Throughout the night, until the early hours of morning, the girls would continue to rub and tease my body.
Each following morning, I would be physically drained, but still emotionally charged. The slightest touch on my cock would cause me to pant and sweat. My jaw would be so sore that I could hardly talk. My tongue would be so worn, that I could hardly move it. Even that acts of swallowing (something that I would have done all night long!) or eating was painful.
That was fine with the girls, as after a hard night of sexual arousal, the last thing that they wanted was to hear from me (to hear my begs for my sexual release!) and they could care less whether I could talk. Likewise, they didn't worry about my swallowing or eating. I soon learned that my regiment for the day following their oral sexual orgy was as their "Maid", and part of that regiment was a limited diet.
Following the night of sexual servitude, I would have to awaken before the girls, take a cold shower, and get them breakfast. Of course, I would do so dressed appropriately. My "maid" uniform had grown more formalized since August. Now, I had my "own" clothes.
The girls had taken me to Goodwill and had me (of course they wouldn't pay for my clothes!) purchase work clothes. The girls and I would roam the lingerie sections and find items that would fit me. Of course, as we shopped, the girls would never miss an opportunity to humiliate me in front of other women customers. It would never fail, if another woman or girl came near us as we shopped, to speaking loudly and make sure that they knew that we were shopping for me. "Is this your size?" they would ask me in front of the other women, holding up the bra, body shaper, girdle, or panties. "Do you like pink like a girl or black like a whore?" as they held the lingerie against my body.
Checking out and buying the clothes always seemed the highlight. With me carrying my stack of used lingerie, the girls would move to the most opportune checkout line. Sometimes it was a young girl or co-ed, other times it was the most sever looking older woman.
As each item was purchased, the girls would continue their tirade. "Was I sure those panties would fit around my cock and balls?" Was the cup size on that bra small enough to fit my tiny tits?" Sometimes, especially with the younger check-out girls, they would direct the questions to them..."Did they think that I would look good in that girdle?" or did they have a boyfriend that dressed in drag like me?" or "Would they like me to come over and clean their toilet when I was dressed like a maid?"
The reactions were as varied as the types of checkout women. Some who turn red and become embarrassed, quickly completing the purchase. Some would grin, taking their time to handle each item, all the time staring at me. Some checkout women said nothing; some joked with the girls and teased me.
The biggest surprise was that few reacted as I might have imagined. I would have expected that most of the young girls would play right along with the girls, and most did. Those poor young girls that did not, but became embarrassed along with me, became the focus of the girls' ridicule, just like me.
The old women were the worst. Most seemed to consider the girls' humor and the fact that a man was being forced to buy women underclothes disgusting. I will never forget the condemning glares that I was subjected to. Of course, the girls just laughed it off.
There were a couple of older women that did surprise me. On those occasions when a thirty or forty year old woman joined the girls' torments, I experienced perhaps more arousal than when the younger girls joined in. You just knew, when some thirty or forty year old woman joined the fun, that she was an experienced kink monster! The fact that some woman who could have been your mother or the mother of the girls that were fucking you was participating in your humiliation...well, it was surprisingly arousing.
Anyway, each morning after the September orgies, after I showered, I would put my "Maid" outfit on. From the dozen or so items of lingerie that I had purchased, I would chose a bra and matching panties or girdle, or perhaps a one-piece body shaper, some nylons, a dress and some pumps. I would place a pair of nipple clamps on my tits (Cindy had conveniently modified some spring type paper clips that I was to wear all day long!), strap the small chain around my waist (another conveniently converted small link, lockable bicycle chain), insert the now familiar anal plug, strap on the testicle harness and pull my balls up through my legs tightly against the anal plug, and hook the harness to the waist chain. The assortment of torture devices ensured that my nipples were subjected to pain all day long, that my ball stretched up my ass made sure my anal plug could not and did not come out, and that I could still urinate.
After the torture hardware, I would put on the chosen lingerie. All the bras, including those in the body shapers, were about B-cups. Since I worked out, my pecs fit most B-cups quite well. I would push my cock, now my "clit", back up between my legs against my balls. On would go the nylons, then the dress and the pumps. The dresses were always sleeveless or puffed at the shoulders. I could not wear long sleeve dresses, as my biceps were too big.
Lastly, on would go the make up. For weeks during August, the girls had showed me how and what they wanted me to wear for make-up. Sufficient to say, the heavy eye shadow, bright red lipstick and cheap perfume made me look more like a whore than any maid I ever saw.
Once dressed, I had to get breakfast ready for the girls. Breakfast was always specific to each girl. Cindy liked fruit and whipped cream, with mimosas. Friane liked French toast with syrup and orange juice. Marsha liked toast and bacon with bloody Marys.
My breakfast was always the same, the only differing being whether it was hot or cold. If I had been "sufficiently" dutiful in serving the girls the night before, I got a meal of hot oatmeal with a coating of cum. If someone was not happy, and it only took one "vote", I got cold oatmeal coated with cum.
Now, I pointed out that I had not been allowed to ejaculate all during the month of September. I had however been fucking Cindy's brains out all during the summer and early fall. During that fall, Cindy had began to "collect" my cum. Sometimes, she had me ejaculated into a container and then she would freeze it. Sometimes, she would push the cum and quim out of her cunt after we fucked, and she would freeze that (she considered the cum/quim mixture a "treat").
As noted before, Marsha had also contributed to the "cum collection", by have the three guys that fucked Cindy for her birthday, collect their cum in colored condoms. Marsha loved the idea of having me eat some other guy's cum. She loved it so much that she made games out of it...making me guess whose cum I was eating (Brad's, Steve's, Charlie's, or whoever...some other guy she had fucked and collected his cum). If I guessed the cum correctly, Marsha gave me a "reward", if I got it wrong then a "punishment".
Marsha's ideas of a "reward" were marginal at best. As a Maid, I was only allowed to drink water...so the "reward" was be a glass of bitter tea, cold coffee, or buttermilk. Her "punishments" were always up to par, ranging from beating my ass through my panties with a belt or paddle, making me clean her cunt after pissing, or making me eat the cum of the two other guys that I had incorrectly guessed.
