Birthday fantasy part 1

preparing for a brutal beatdown
How I prepare to dish out a beatdown
November 14, 2017
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November 26, 2017

Birthday fantasy part 1

Bathtime with london mistress claire black

I’ve created the ultimate birthday fantasy scene for myself. This is, for the most part, made up from actual experiences I’ve had, with a couple of embellishments. The hotel room is based on a real one in Paris I stayed in years ago, I wish I had a record of it’s name! There will be multiple parts posted on the lead up to my birthday on the 17th Dec. Enjoy this introduction!


 

The hotel room door swung open easily under my fingers and I entered a bright, modern room. The smell hit me first, a smoky blend of frankincense and nag champa, was that my favourite bath salts? The walls were bright green, just the shade of summer grass, with writing threading over the wall about eye level. I couldn’t quite make out what is said, but it’s curvy path made for a whimsical feel. The bed was like a white fluffy cloud dominating the centre of the room and healthy green plants lined the desk and window ledge.

In front of me you knelt naked, head down, waiting patiently. As I walked towards you I noticed there was a huge bathtub beside you, in the bedroom! I squealed in delight. Steam rose off it in waves, blue rose petals floated and the bubbles quietly burst, calling for me to join them before they disappeared. This room was perfect, like a fairy tale, playful luxury at it’s best.

“I love it!” I exclaimed. “Now get up and help me undress”.

You stood and took my leather coat, placing it carefully on the bed. I flopped down into the white puff of duvet and pointed my right foot at you. Instantly back on your knees you began unlacing the knee high DM boots. You were surprisingly graceful taking them off this time, I remember last time you were like a fumbling idiot, in the end I had just taken them off myself. Clearly you’d learned from your stupidity and I relaxed my feet into your competent hands.

Boots and socks off, it was time for my t-shirt. You looked at me, unsure. ‘Go on then, t-shirt first’, I encouraged. Tentatively you raised it up over my head. It caught awkwardly on my chin – you’ve still some way to go yet.

‘Trousers next’ and your fingers fumbled at my belt, I swear you were shaking then. I looked longingly at the bath. I was wearing skinny jeans and collapsed back onto the bed giggling at your pathetic attempts to peel them off me. You were trying so hard to be gentle and respectful, it was hilarious and completely ineffective.

‘Next my bra’ I teased. You looked terrified as I turned my back to you. You fumbled with the clasp but got it off with more success than the jeans. I let you take my pants down from behind, bringing your face closer to my ass than you ever imagined it would get. I heard you inhale, desperate to catch my scent, trying and failing to be subtle about it.

“Before I get in the bath I need to piss. Put a towel on the floor, then get back on your knees and open your mouth”. You did, and like the good little toilet slave you were becoming you didn’t spill a drop. I pissed directly into your mouth, my cunt hovering just inches above it. A delight you will never get to taste.

I dipped my toes in the bath, the temperature was perfect. Quickly the rest of my body was caressed in bubbles and petals as I sunk down, moaning in pure pleasure.

You kneeled down beside the bath, head bowed, short glass of amber liquid seeming to have appeared from out of nowhere into your outstretched hands. I let you sit just long enough to watch your arms get tired, then took it from you. Deeply peaty and smoky, Octomore I thought. You had been paying attention.

Whilst I warmed and relaxed you busied yourself folding and putting away my clothes, and upon my instruction, emptying my bag. Clothes into the wardrobe, toiletries into the bathroom, and toys arranged precisely on the table. All we had agreed was that this was a birthday treat for me, that I was to be spoiled and my every whim indulged. You had no idea what toys I brought until that second, and I saw your eyes widen.

“I’m hungry” I said from the bath, “is there a room service menu?” You brought it over, presenting it in the way I had taught you; on your knees, back straight, head lowered, arms out.

When the fresh oysters arrived you made yourself into a very helpful side table, staying perfectly still as the freezing bowl balanced on your back. I was the very picture of indulgence, swallowing icy oysters and sipping good whisky in my steaming bath, my good little table steady on the floor beside me.

I like my subs to be multi functional so after you were no longer useful as a table I returned you to handmaiden status. I allowed you to wash my hair, clean my body, and wrap me in a big fluffy white towel when I left the bath. I had a feeling this was every bit as much of a treat for you as it was for me.

Dried, I flopped down on the fluffy cloud bed. “Bring over the massage oil, I want to be thoroughly pampered and relaxed”. I instructed you exactly where on my body I wanted massaged, how firmly, what speed, and where not even to put your eyes. I gave you every detail and you did a passable job of executing it.

By the time you finished working the remaining knots from my body I was in a puddle of bliss. “I’m going to have a nap, go to your room and come back in 2 hours” I lazily instructed you. I didn’t even hear the door click closed as you left.

 


Check back soon for part 2

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2 Comments on "Birthday fantasy part 1"

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cockroach aka mikey
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This is such a hot story, Sir Claire. I can imagine the honor of serving you in such a way. Dreamy. Love how your mind works. Someday! Thank you for sharing.

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