(Usual Disclaimer Time: All the characters in this story are 18 years old or older, and since we're living in the wide wonderful world of porno-land here, where clichés roam free and things might get a little unrealistic from time to time, please remember it's all in good fun.)
(Author's Note: This story requires a little explanation before we get too deep into it. This is a spin-off story from my main series, Senior Year Memories, featuring one of my most popular and frequently requested characters, the lovely (and busty) redhead, Daphne O'Connell. While it takes place in the same universe and will often reference characters or concepts from it, being a Senior Year Memories expert is NOT required to enjoy this story; I'm trying to make it its own fun thing and aim to provide all appropriate context. So, while it will be familiar to longtime readers, it is meant to be accessible to newcomers as well.
Further, I want to congratulate my reader PoisonPen33 for suggesting the name of the male lead (which I drew out of a hat, among other suggestions). As always, I want to give special thanks to fellow Literotica author Lil_kitty for her excellent work as my editor and acting as a second set of eyes on this chapter, and for letting me know what did and didn't work; if you get a chance, please check out her work and drop some stars if you enjoyed, she writes some very hot and fun stories.)
***
In an unexceptional-looking house on a quiet suburban street in a slice of small-town paradise named Regan Hills, California, a single light from a flickering candle barely showed through the front window. As a matter of fact, this candle was perched in a single, store-bought, chocolate cupcake, making a small yet technically effective birthday cake for the home's sole current occupant, a stocky, copper-haired boy dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants.
"Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me, happy birthday dear..." Adam Bateson badly intoned, trying to hide the bitterness from his voice as he looked down at the candle shaped like an 18 that he'd shoved into the cupcake he'd bought for himself.
"Why are you doing this to yourself?" he murmured angrily, blowing the candle out. "This is fucking pitiful. You're eighteen now... you're not supposed to be fucking pitiful."
No matter how many times he tried to say it, though, he didn't feel any less pitiful. And why shouldn't he feel this way? He was an 18-year-old, ever-dateless band geek, whose own family couldn't even afford him the time to celebrate this monumental birthday because his little sister made state finals in some stupid gymnastics competition. They'd rather go halfway across the state to cheer her on than celebrate him on his special day and...
"Fuck," he murmured, shaking his head bitterly. "Fuck, fuck, fucking hell, shit, fuck..."
This was not a very happy birthday for Adam Bateson.
It wasn't that he had expected it to be full of balloons and strippers (though both of those would have been nice), and it wasn't like he had a ton of friends in the first place, but it would have been nice if anyone could have made the time for him and thrown a little bit of a party. He wouldn't have asked for much, just a little celebration, some laughs and a present or two, it didn't matter what, just something to unwrap on a day when you're supposed to unwrap something...
No, he did have something to unwrap. Hope Harris, one of his fellow band geeks and one of the sweetest, nicest people at Regan Hills High, she'd remembered his birthday. The willowy, mousy girl with the goofy grin and dirty blonde hair was perhaps the closest thing he had at school to a best friend, and she'd more than held up her end of the bargain today, presenting him with a cardboard tube containing a vintage 'This is Spin̈al Tap' poster.
As one of the school marching band's drummers (and a huge fan of the movie), this made him laugh, as it was a thoughtful gift, and quite possibly the only gift that he might actually receive on his otherwise forgotten eighteenth birthday.
While he should've given this poster all due attention and thanked Hope profusely for it then and there, he had been completely distracted away from the gift by one big thing.
Well, two big things, if we're being precise: the massive tits of Hope's girlfriend, Daphne O'Connell, who stood next to Hope as she passed him the gift.
Staring at Daphne, captain of the school's color guard and unbelievable hottie, was nothing new to Adam, as he had thought her fucking hot about as long as he'd been able to notice girls. A 5'10" redhead, with long, flaming red locks, a tight and flexible dancer's body complete with a round ass and D-cup tits, and some of the palest, softest-looking skin he'd ever seen, she had long been a fantasy of Adam's, and no doubt a lot of other boys at Regan Hills High School. The fact that she was a complete and utter bitch to anyone who wasn't popular was easy to ignore when you were staring at her, though it was nice to see that she'd mellowed a little since she'd gotten together with Hope back in December.
Adam shook his head miserably, wishing he'd paid more attention to Hope giving him such a thoughtful birthday present than he had to Daphne O'Connell's tits. He knew Hope wouldn't blame him, as she had teased him over time for his crush on Hope (as he'd teased her about much the same, until she'd actually managed to get together with Daphne anyway), but still, with her being the only one to acknowledge his birthday, it was feeling like this would be something he should remember more than an excellent glance at some cleavage.
Without warning, his thoughts returned to the doom and gloom of his current predicament.
"Fuck this... fuck all of this..." he said, blowing out the candle.
Briefly, Adam grabbed the cupcake and almost threw it across the room... but what would that have accomplished? Ruining a perfectly delicious cupcake, and creating a mess that he'd have to clean up?
No, he wouldn't do that. He wouldn't do anything that'd make him feel more miserable, and he sure as hell wasn't going to waste the closest thing he'd get to a birthday cake. No, he set the cupcake back down on the counter, and thought about how good it'd feel to angrily beat on his drums for a while before returning and eating that very same cupcake. He'd be a little less angry, it'd taste a little better, and he might actually be in the mood to enjoy what little was left of this miserable day.
He'd barely taken two steps away from the kitchen island when he heard the knocking on the front door. It was a heavy knock, almost like someone throwing their whole weight into the door, but it was a knock all the same. No doubt it was something his parents had ordered, probably a reward for his little sister whether or not she actually won her gymnastics competition, and he'd be expected to bring it in and take care of it and display it and take the blame for whatever damage occurred to it in shipping and...
And he'd just wait. He wouldn't let this get to him, not when he had a few good drum solos in mind that he wanted to bang out, he'd just wait the knocking out, work up a sweat, and bring whatever they'd ordered in later.
There was a brief silence, and then a louder, heavier, more insistent knocking. Impatient, angry even. This made him feel less inclined to actually go out and do anything about the knocking, but, in case it was something that he might get in trouble over, Adam, annoyed, trundled over to the front door.
As he swung the door open, he asked, "Can I help-"
Of all the people he might have expected at his front door, Daphne O'Connell was likely at the bottom of the list, let alone *how* he found her.
Admittedly, there were times that he wondered what she would look like wearing only the shortest of cutoff jeans and a tight, white shirt that was cut both low and high enough to show off her tight stomach and expansive cleavage and wearing eye makeup and red lipstick that made her look like a whore, but seeing her actually like that on his front porch was certainly... interesting.
That she was gagged and bound with hands behind her back, seemingly tied up with thick, ostentatious ribbon, the kind that you'd use for wrapping gifts, was certainly a surprise.
As was the birthday card shoved into her cleavage.
Confused, and maybe a little nervous that somebody might see this, Adam pulled the card from between Daphne's large tits and opened it up, reading the inscription inside.
"I know this has been a pretty shitty birthday, so I thought I'd get you something fun to play with. She's yours for the night, do whatever you want... because this tight slut can take it. I think you'll have fun ;) -- Hope
P.S. Her safe word is 'giraffe'. Don't ask me why."
A great number of Adam's fantasies had begun more or less like this, but with Daphne bound and gagged on his doorstep, looking more bored and vaguely amused than in any discomfort in this position, only one word came to Adam's lips.
"Fuck."
***
With her feet bound together, it took some doing to get Daphne in a position where she could comfortably (if awkwardly) stumble indoors, but now that he had her in the living room and without worrying over what was going to happen if a neighbor caught sight of what Hope had done, he quickly and apologetically set about attempting to untie her.
Since it seemed that Hope had paid attention to her knot-tying lessons in her time in the Scouts back in the day, this was easier said than done.
"I'm really, really sorry about all this," Adam said, kneeling behind Daphne as he tried to undo her wrists. He knew things would have gone a lot easier if he began to untie her starting with the big bow Hope had tied across her chest, but, well, he wasn't ready to work up there without any permission.
"Hope is... well, you know how Hope is," Adam chuckled nervously. "Once she gets an idea into her mind, there's not a lot you can do to stop her from executing it, and... sometimes she gets really interesting ideas into her head. I'm sure you know more about those than I do, with what you two... do... I should stop talking. This is stupid, I'm sorry, I must sound like such an asshole... I don't think I'm an asshole, I try not to be an asshole, but if I sound like an asshole, I'm sorry... fuck, where did she get this ribbon from, army surplus? This isn't coming apart like I'd hoped, I'm sorry..."
Adam found himself looking into Daphne's eyes. Rather than amused, she now looked annoyed with him, finding a way to make him feel small even if she was the one in the tied-up position. This was nothing new for Daphne, as her 5'10" height always had her looking down on 5'8" Adam. With an appearance he'd always thought to be on the more average side of average, and a stocky build that was better for carrying heavy drum sets than it was for impressing the ladies, it was easy for someone like Daphne to make someone like him feel utterly insignificant. While it might have annoyed him, and even angered him, at the best of times, trying to undo Hope's well-meaning gift (or particularly strange prank), had him almost frantic.
"Please, whatever you do, don't hold this against Hope," Adam continued, finally making some progress at one of the ribbons around Daphne's wrists. "She meant well, I think. I mean, I don't think it was a prank, that's not exactly her style, though maybe you talked her into a prank but... no, that'd be too mean. I should really be talking to her, shouldn't I? Yeah, that would make the most sense to figure out how this happened, what's happening and all that... but, no, first thing's first, I just don't want you to be mean to her or anything because of what she's done. She's trying to be a good friend to me, I think, and I'm sorry for whatever part I had in this and... eureka!"
