Today is my birthday. Although it’s rude to ask a lady her age, since I am quite clearly not a lady, I turned 44, in case you were wondering.
When I was at school, there was a tradition of giving someone who was celebrating their birthday “the bumps”. For those not familiar with the term, it generally involved the person whose birthday it was having their friends “bump” them, generally by kneeing them in the rear end a certain number of times, that number being the same as the age attained.
That was the childhood version, of course; now that I am supposedly an adult, Master C has come up with a more “grown up” variation.
This x-rated version of the bumps involves two phases, and as you would probably expect, it also involves me, bare arsed, bent over and bracing myself for support.
So, phase one:
Taking the grooved paddle that I referred to in Punishment fucks, Master C proceeds to give my poor little backside a thorough tanning. Forty four strokes of the paddle, in groups of eleven to each cheek, alternating left and right, before a final slap on each cheek rounds off the total. As I count out each thwack of the paddle, I can feel my face turn as red as my arse, I can feel eyes brim with tears, and I can feel my cunt grow uncomfortably wet.
Each stinging slap hurts that little bit more than the last one, each slap makes me cry out a little louder, each slap makes my juices flow that bit more.
With tears streaming down my cheeks, which are as hot and flushed as my buttocks, I allow myself an inward smile; I have endured and I know what is about to come…
And then, phase two:
Master C lubes my arsehole, grips my hips and his cock pushes into me with one powerful thrust. The cheeks of my arse throb as He digs His fingers into the tender flesh. My back passage stretches around Him. A moment’s pause, and then the “bumps” begin.
Master C thrusts into me, hard and deep, pulling me back on to Him. His body slams against mine with every deliciously powerful stroke of His cock. The only sounds to be heard are the slapping of skin on skin, his balls slapping my labia as His body repeatedly and forcefully collides with mine, and my moans; a mixture of pain and pleasure as Master C pounds my arse.
This time I’m not counting the strokes, I couldn’t even if I wanted to. Not that there’s any need, Master C won’t stop “bumping” until he’s done.
“Hap… py… birth… day…” He groans, each syllable punctuated with another surging thrust of His wonderful cock deep into my aching arsehole.
Suddenly He’s gone. Distantly I hear Him moan. His warm, thick load splatters off my arse cheeks.
As Master C rubs his cum into still tender skin, applying it as if it were a balm to ease the stinging hurt, He kisses me on the small of my back in a way that makes my knees week and my womb contract, and whispers, “Happy birthday, little one.”