Archive-name: Slaves/bgift1.txt

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Archive-title: Birthday Gift, The, Part One





(Friday Night 11:00 pm)



     Josephine Eileen Ross stood jauntily in  the entrance  to the 

crowded  nightclub,  her  right  hand  on  her  hip  --   a  tall, 

stunningly attractive woman.  She wore a  black, velvet  decollete 

evening dress with a high fan  collar that  accentuated her  ample 

cleavage and slim, hour-glass figure.  Her  full lips  matched the 

color of her long, curved red  fingernails, and  she had  on black 

silk stockings  and high-heeled  stiletto opera  pumps.  Her  long 

black hair danced on her shoulders.  For jewelry, Josie wore a set 

of gold  hoop earrings  and an  intricate platinum  choker.  Josie 

looked at her image in the  foyer mirror  and smiled  confidently.  

She was dressed to kill, and she knew it.

     After waiting a few minutes, Josie saw an  empty seat  at the 

main bar and took it.  The bartender, a  young curly-haired  girl, 

saw her and came up.  "What can I get you, miss?"

     Josie thought for a moment. "I'd like a martini -- very dry."

     After she ordered, Josie took out  a pack  of Virginia  Slims 

from her purse and pulled out a long white cigarette.

     The bartender brought her drink over, set it  down, and  held 

up a lighter.  "Here, I'll get that."

     Josie held the cigarette to her lips as  the other  woman lit 

it  for  her.   Josie  inhaled  deeply,  her breasts  rising.  She 

expelled a thin stream of blue smoke toward the ceiling and smiled 

at the girl.  "Thank you," she said.

     The bartender smiled back.  "You're welcome."

     Josie crossed her legs,  sipped her  drink and  took a  long, 

luxurious drag  on her  cigarette.  Her  left hand  slipped subtly 

beneath the folds of  her dress,  and her  fingers felt  along her 

thigh.  Halfway  up, connected  to a  thick elastic  strap, was  a 

clamshell case containing various  accoutrements.  Satisfied  that 

it was secure, Josie removed her  hand and  took out  a photograph 

from  her  purse.  It  was a  shot of  two women,  a blonde  and a 

brunette.  The brunette was her employer; it was  the blonde  that 

Josie  sought  tonight,  a  sloe-eyed,  large-breasted  girl named 

Patricia Ortiz.

     Josie  took  another drag  on her  cigarette and  scanned the 

mirror in front of her, looking  at the  crowd.  It  was a  Friday 

night, and the room was dense with people.  Almost all were women, 

which  wasn't  surprising  for  a lesbian  nightclub.  There  were 

several gorgeous women out on the dance floor.  As Josie  watched, 

she  felt  a  familiar  warmth  swelling  up within  her.  As  she 

strained  over  to get  a better  look, she  noticed a  young girl 

sitting  at  the opposite  end of  the bar,  wearing a  tight blue 

leotard top and white faille wraparound skirt.  It was Patricia.

     She had already decided her strategy. She finished  her drink 

and cigarette, and the bartender, who  kept giving  Josie discrete 

glances, came over immediately.  "Can I get you another one?"  she 

asked.

     "Yes, please," Josie said, "and do me a favor."

     The bartender smiled.  "I'd love to."

     "Do  you  see  that  woman  over  there?",  Josie  pointed to 

Patricia.  "Give her another drink with my compliments."

     The girl nodded.  "You mean Trish?  Sure."

     Josie took  out another  cigarette, along  with a  long ebony 

cigarette holder.  She carefully inserted the  cigarette into  the 

holder and lit it.  "Tell her it's from me."

     "Okay," the  bartender told  her, "but  I have  to warn  you, 

Trish is into some very heavy scenes."

     "That's what I was hoping," Josie  said, her  eyes sparkling.  

The bartender looked surprised, but said nothing.

     Josie watched as the  bartender took  a scotch  on the  rocks 

over  to  Patricia and  set it  down in  front of  her, discreetly 

pointing over  to Josie.   Patricia looked  over, smiling.   Josie 

returned the smile, nodded and took a long drag  on her  cigarette 

holder.  She was beginning  to get  a kick  out of  this, and  her 

heart began to race  when Patricia  stood up,  drink in  hand, and 

sidle through the crowd.  It took her a  few moments,  but finally 

she was there, standing before Josie.

     "Hello," she said.  "Thanks for the drink."

     "My pleasure," Josie said.  "I couldn't  help but  notice you 

over there -- you're a very attractive woman."

     Patricia  looked  a little  startled.  "Are  you always  this 

forward?"

     Josie finished her cigarette.  "I am tonight."

     Patricia smiled  again.  "Why  don't we  find a  quiet corner 

somewhere?"  She offered her hand, and Josie took it, slipping off 

the barstool, her metal-tipped stilettos clacking on the floor.

     They found a dimly-lit table on a dais overlooking the  dance 

floor and sat down  side by  side.  Josie  lit the  candle in  the 

middle of the table and pulled it over so she  could see  Patricia 

better.  As she did so, Josie noticed the  other woman's  nipples, 

erect and perfectly outlined in the sheer material of her top.

     Patricia took a sip  of her  drink.  "My  name's Trish,"  she 

said.  "What's yours?"

     "Josephine, but I go by Josie."

     "Josie;  what  a lovely  name."  She  paused.  "This  is your 

first time here."

     Josie looked up into her eyes.  "Why would you think that?"

     Trish smiled.  "Believe me, I would remember seeing you."

     "I'll take that as a compliment."

     "God, yes," Trish said heavily.  She let her hand fall  below 

the table to rest on Josie's thigh.  "I saw you sitting at the bar 

earlier tonight...I thought you looked very, very sexy."

     "Thank you," Josie said.

     "All dressed in black,  and using  that long  black cigarette 

holder," Trish continued.  "Very elegant."

     Josie smiled.   "My mother  gave it  to me.   She thought  it 

makes me look like a vamp."

     "Well," Trish  said, her  hand sliding  along Josie's  inside 

thigh, "it sure does wonders for me."

     Josie  covered  Trish's  hand  with  her  own, and  guided it 

beneath the folds of her dress.   "Then this  might be  your lucky 

night."  With her other hand, she reached into her purse  and took 

out an engraved invitation.  She opened  it deftly  and passed  it 

over to Trish.  "Read this."

     Trish took the invitation and held it over the candle.





                    Darling Patrica (it read),



            You are formally invited  to a weekend  of

            extreme sensuality  and forbidden delights

            on the  occasion  of your  28th  birthday.



            The woman from whom you have received this

            is your mistress and guide. She is trained

            in all forms of ecstasy which  you desire.



            Place all faith in her.  Obey  all of  her

            instructions without fail.  Do so, and you

            will experience sexual delight unlike none

            you have ever imagined.  Disobey her,  and

            you will be punished in ways that you have

            dreamt of and more.



                             Signed,



                          Elizabeth Bach



      P.S.  Patricia, I love you.  I give you your fantasy.





     Trish set  the note  down.  "I  need a  cigarette," she  said 

finally.   Her  fingernails  were  beginning to  dig into  Josie's 

thigh.

     Josie laughed and passed a cigarette over to Trish and lit it 

for her, then put one in her holder and lit it.

     "Where is Elizabeth?" Trish asked.

     "All in due time," Josie said.  "First, I need your consent."

     "She  told  me  she  might do  this," Trish  said, almost  to 

herself.  "I had no idea..."  She paused.  "What do I need to do?"

     "Just say yes or no.  If you agree,  you will  do whatever  I 

command for..." she looked  at her  watch; it  was eleven  thirty.  

"For the next forty eight hours.  We will return you to reality on 

this time, Sunday night."

     "What about my cats?"

     Josie laughed again.  "Every detail's been  seen to;  believe 

me.  All you have to do is agree.  If you say yes,  I'll give  you 

one hour, and then the festivity begins."

     Trish sat silently for a moment.  "You know Elizabeth well?"

     "Your Significant Other?  Yes, we've known  each other  since 

school."

     "Alright,  then,"   Trish  said   nervously,  but   her  eyes 

positively shone with anticipation.  "You have my agreement."

     "Very well,"  Josie replied.   "You look  like you've  seen a 

ghost; would you like to dance?"

     A slow  song was  starting up.   "I'd love  to," Trish  said.  

They stood  up and  went out  to the  dance floor,  hand in  hand.  

Josie slipped her arm around Trish's  waist and  pulled her  close 

gently, reveling in the other woman's musky smell.

     The  song  was  one  of Josie's  favorites.  "Antes  que seja 

tarde..." the lead went, and she looked down  into Trish's  bright 

eyes.  Without warning, Trish's mouth opened  to an  O, and  Josie 

kissed her.  It was a soft kiss, and Josie felt Trish trembling as 

their lips met.  Trish pulled back  and leaned  into Josie's  ear.  

"Elizabeth..." she whispered.

     Josie took her hand  and gave  it a  gentle squeeze.   "She's 

given me her consent,  darling.  Do  not feel  unfaithful to  her.  

Everything that happens, has her best wishes.  She  just wants  to 

give you what you couldn't ask for directly."  She paused.   "Now, 

kiss  me  again," she  said, but  before she  could finish,  Trish 

pulled  her  closer  and  put  her  mouth on  Josie's, her  tongue 

hungrily probing.  Josie responded with a hunger of  her own,  and 

for a time they were only aware of each other.

     Finally they parted.  Josie heard another song from  the same 

album starting ("Depois Dos  Temporais").  They  had embraced  for 

almost twenty minutes.

     "God," Trish said.  "I think I need to  sit for  a moment;  I 

think I've wet myself."

     They went back to their table and sat  down.  There  was line 

of  perspiration  going  down  Trish's  back,  but  Josie   looked 

completely composed.

     As Trish lit another cigarette, Josie said, "Do you know what 

a safeword is?"

     Trish nodded.  "Elizabeth and  I've used  one before,  during 

our...scenes."

     Josie took another small envelope from  her purse  and handed 

it to her.  "Here are the safewords we  will use.   They apply  to 

both  of  us.   You  must  understand  --"  She  paused.  "If  the 

safeword is spoken to you, you will stop  immediately whatever  it 

is you are doing.  If your partner is bound, you will unbind  her.  

If your  partner is  unable to  speak, be  alert to  the nonverbal 

signal."

     Trish  opened  the  envelope  and read  the note  inside.  "I 

understand, Josie."

     "Finally, one last thing."  Josie lit a cigarette  and sipped 

her drink.  "Much of what we will do is psychodrama.  By giving me 

your consent, you have given yourself completely to me.  I will do 

everything possible to heighten your pleasure.   My first  command 

is to trust in me totally."

     "I do," Trish said huskily.

     "Now,  I  ask you  to remember  the final  safeword --   it's 

written on the back of the note you're  holding.  My  instructions 

from Elizabeth are that, if you utter it, you are  to be  released 

immediately  and  returned here,  to your  car.  Trish,  remember: 

There is no going back.  If I hear it, the  festivity comes  to an 

irrevocable end."

     "I understand."

     Josie  looked  at  her  watch.   It  was  12:28.   She smiled 

devilishly.  "Are you ready?"

     "God, yes, darling!"

     "Then," Josie  said, "let  the games  begin."  She  stood up.  

"You will find a black limousine  parked in  front.  Leave  within 

the next fifteen minutes  and take  a seat  in the  back.  Do  not 

disturb the driver at all."  She picked up her purse.  "I will see 

you again soon.  Remember:  Do not speak to the driver."

     "Yes, Josie."

     Josie looked down at her.  "I am a  dominatrix; from  now on, 

you will address me as 'mistress.'"

     "Yes, mistress."

     Josie turned  and left  her sitting  there.  She  walked out, 

without looking back.

     Trish held the note in front of her, over the candle.  Before 

looking at the back, she slowly dipped it into the  flame and  set 

it in the ashtray, watching as the fire consumed it.  Then she too 

stood up, crushed her  cigarette out,  and walked  briskly through 

the crowd to the entrance and out the door.



*** END OF PART ONE ***

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