Story: Pink and Girly

For her birthday, Jennifer had laughingly asked her friends to get her presents that were “pink and girly”.   

Most of her presents were exactly what she had expected – perfumes, dresses, throw pillows, towels, and even a bottle of pink champagne.

But the present that her friend Michael gave her was a little shocking.  It was a pink leather dog collar, with the word “SLUT” engraved on the front in prominent letters.

Jennifer was embarrassed, and she didn’t quite know what to do with it.  She didn’t like the collar, and she didn’t like the leering way that Michael was looking at her as she unwrapped it.  But she didn’t want to make a scene, so she treated it like a joke.   She put the collar on, and she politely wore it for the rest of the party.

But that night, after everyone had gone home, Jennifer discovered that the collar wouldn’t come off.   It had a little lock, which had engaged when Jennifer had put it on, and despite checking the wrapping several times, Jennifer couldn’t locate the key.  She grew a little frantic, and considered using a knife or scissors to cut the collar off – but there seemed to be a firm metal core within the leather.

She rang Michael in distress.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said.   “I must have forgotten to give you the key.  Just leave it on overnight, and I’ll come round tomorrow and see what I can do.”

Reluctantly, Jennifer went to bed, with the collar still firmly around her neck.

As she lay there, she began to realise that the collar was making a sound – right at the edge of her hearing, like words that she couldn’t quite understand.  

The collar whispered to her all night.  She remembered none of it, except for the words “pink”, “girly”, and “slut”.  In her dreams, she dreamed about being fucked, abused, and dominated.  At 2 am she woke up orgasming from a nightmare about being violently raped, and then promptly fell asleep again.  She dreamed she was stupid.  She dreamed she was obedient.  She dreamed she was a happy little fucktoy.

When she woke the next morning, she felt strange.  Her pussy was wet, but she ignored it.  She remembered that Michael was coming round, and realised that she had to get dressed for him.  

She picked out something pink and girly.  It made her look pretty.  She thought that it would probably make Michael think about fucking her, and that thought made her happy.  

But when she looked at herself in the mirror, it seemed to her that her tits were too small.  She pouted, and wished they were bigger.

When Michael arrived, she gave him a big hug, and crushed her tits hard against his chest.  It occurred to her that she didn’t *normally* do that with her friends, but Michael seemed to like it, and as she pressed herself against him she could feel that his cock was hard inside his pants, and that made her delighted.  It was nice that Michael found her sexy.  It made her feel like a good girl.

She let Michael fiddle with her collar for nearly half an hour.  She sat in his lap for much of it, feeling his hard cock poking eagerly against her buttocks, and she bounced mischievously to reward him for his help.   

But after some time, Michael confessed that he wasn’t able to remove her collar.  He hadn’t been able to find the key, and the lock was just too complicated.  He said he would look up instructions online and come back tomorrow and try again.   She pouted again, but agreed that there was no other option.

After Michael was gone, she was overcome by the sudden need to masturbate.  She couldn’t stop thinking about Michael’s hard cock.  She felt a little guilty for teasing it, and so she slapped her pussy a few times as she rubbed it, hard enough to hurt.

“I’m a slut,” she whispered to herself.  “Pink and girly.  No thoughts.   Good little fuckdoll.  Make his cock happy.  Sexy kitten.  Fuckbunny.   I need big tits.  Make men happy.  Little slut.”

The words seemed to rhyme with the unintelligible sounds that the collar whispered to her, and soon the day vanished in a haze of lust, masturbation, and barely-remembered subaudible suggestions.  

When Michael came again the next morning, she greeted him by kissing him on the lips.  That was what good girls did, right?  He kissed her back, and she giggled.  He told her he had looked on the internet and couldn’t work out how to get the collar off, and asked her if she minded.  She said no, she was getting used to it now.  In fact, the thought of taking it off made her sad.

“I like it,” she said.   “It suits me.”

He said that seeing as the collar had been such a bad present, he had bought her some other presents instead, and showed them to her one by one.  The first present was a slutty pink skirt.  She ran away into the bedroom and changed into it happily, coming back out to show him.  He asked her what it looked like if she was topless, so she pulled off her shirt and bared her tits like a good girl.  He took some photos of her.

The next present was a pair of pink nipple clamps.  She let him put them on her.  They hurt, but they made her tits look pretty, so she giggled happily.  Then there was a pink dildo.  Michael took off her skirt and panties and she let him stuff it up her fuckhole, still giggling like a good girl.  He photographed her again.

His fourth present was a load of his cum, so while she knelt in front of him and eagerly sucked on his dick, he told her his fifth present – a tit job.  He had her booked in in a week’s time to get giant fake boobies.   And they would help her with his sixth present for her – a job at a brothel.  He told her she would be dropping out of university and working full time as a whore, giving all her earnings to him.  It made her so happy that she orgasmed on the spot, just as he fired his sperm down her throat.

As she lay there, savouring the taste of his cum in her mouth, idly working the dildo out in and out of her cunt, she realised that, really, the collar had been the best birthday present of all…

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