I woke up in my bed and yawned, giving a big stretch as I did so. I grinned as my eyes fell on the clock next to my bed. It was my birthday today, and what’s more it fell on a holiday weekend this year! A nice long three day weekend to relax around the house. I luxuriated in the warm, cozy blankets for a while longer, but eventually a restless energy drove me from my bed. I tossed on a robe and switched my computer on, before wandering downstairs and putting on a pot of coffee. I glanced outside. Bright beautiful sunshine. Awesome.

I went through my morning ablutions, taking a little longer than usual in the shower to just let the water flow over my face. Once finished I grabbed a cup of coffee from the now finished pot and went back upstairs to sit in front of my computer. I read through the news for a few minutes while sipping my coffee and then opened a tab over to my favourite fetish community website. As the screen changed to the website’s background I saw a blinking little message waiting for me. Hoping that one of the authors I followed had posted a new chapter to a kinky adventure, I clicked on it.

The message popped up, in big letters: HAPPY BIRTHDAY JOHN!

I grinned. First birthday wishes from a fetish site. How very apt.

I scrolled down the message. There was the usual little paragraph, like on a card from the store, wishing me well, hoping that I had a wonderfully fun time. Then at the bottom it had two picture icons. One showed the catsuited legs and booted heels of what was probably a very striking dominatrix. A collar dangled by a chain from the top of the picture, held up by something out of shot. Over the picture were the words: Feeling Submissive? The next one showed a kneeling girl, her head covered in a leather hood, her arms bound in an armbinder. A leash connected to a collar around her neck and ran up to disappear at the side of the picture. Over this one went the words: Feeling Dominant?

I looked at the two pictures, a little bemused. That was different. I shrugged to myself. I guess it just wouldn’t be a BDSM community without their own little twist on birthdays.

I clicked the Feeling Submissive? Box. That took me to a new page where the site went on: We here at Bound4Fun love celebrating birthdays. Particularly kinky birthdays. Here’s hoping you enjoy celebrating yours like the naughty slave that you are. It showed a GIF of a grinning dominatrix fitting a collar around the camera viewer.

I chuckled at the little display. I really enjoyed Bound4Fun, mostly because of that sort of spirit and sense of community. Not many fetish websites would go to the trouble of making something like that for birthdays. And sure, it was generic enough that anyone could get it but hell, it gave me a little glow. I guess I’m a sucker for those sorts of things. Heh.

I trawled around for a good hour on Bound4Fun, looking around for any particularly interesting new fiction pieces. Nothing really caught my eye, so I decided on some birthday video games to get me to lunch time when I’d feel less bad about grabbing a beer or two. Or more. I hadn’t really made any firm plans with anyone. Besides, everyone I really cared to hang out with was out of town. It was a holiday weekend after all. As I started up my Xbox I promised myself that I’d get out of the house in the afternoon. Mornings were for relaxing after all.

A few hours later, as I blasted some poor alien sap into more pieces than was probably healthy for him, my doorbell rang. I hit pause, frowning a little. Wonder who that could be? I got up, cinched my robe a little tighter, and headed out to the front hall. I could sort of make out the silhouette of someone standing there, but couldn’t tell anything about them without opening the door. So I did just that. And then stopped dead.

A woman stood on my front step. Not just any woman though, she was dressed like she’d stepped right out of my fantasies. Raven black hair cascaded off her head, drawn back in a messy ponytail. She wore a gorgeous black rubber catsuit, a keyhole opening giving a pleasing view of her cleavage. A corset enhanced her already lovely breasts. Completing the look she wore knee high leather high heeled boots. One hand propped up on her hip, the other partially hidden behind her back.

She gave me a winning smile as I stared at her, and then gave a little giggle. I realized I was standing there with my mouth open, wearing only a robe to cover myself. Particularly a certain part of myself that was now beginning to rise in a most embarrassing way. I flushed red, which only broadened her smile and drew forth a further chuckle.

“Uh…hi? Sorry, hi!” I stammered out, both hands busy keeping my robe in place, “Can I help you?”

“Hi!” She said brightly, “Are you JohnnyCanuck1?”

That was my Bound4Fun username. The hell?

“Uuuh, how do you--?”

My question was suddenly mooted as she took an aggressive step forward, one hand coming up to slap a weird smelling cloth over my mouth. Her other arm wrapped around me and pushed me inside.

I thrashed against her arms, struggling mightily to bring my trapped hands up to rip the cloth away from my face. But she was too strong. Way too strong for me. Most deceptive looking woman ever, though that might have been because I had been paying more attention to her outfit than her.

“That’s it Johnny,” She said, her voice sounding even despite my continued struggles, “Just breathe it in sweetie. Sooner you go under the sooner we can get started!”

I mmph’d into her hand weakly, the fumes in the cloth already pulling me down into sleep. Who the hell was this woman? Why was she here, and how the heck had she found out about my online profile??

All I got for my muffled questions was her hand tightening around my mouth, and her arm crushing me more tightly against her. My robe had come partially off in the struggle, and now most of my front was pressed tightly against her rubber and leather clad body. In spite of my situation, or heck maybe because of it, I felt my cock harden. It rubbed against her rubber encased legs as I struggled, and she laughed as my fading grunts and moans became less and less frantic with thoughts of escape.

“There’s a good boy,” I heard her voice drifting through the air as I was lowered down. Down. Down. I distantly felt her lay me out on the floor, the cloth still pressed to my mouth, “Just sleep now. And you’ll wake up in a wonderful new world.”

As I finally faded into the blackness of a drug induced sleep I wondered what the hell was in store for me…

I felt consciousness slowly begin to return to me. I was lying on the ground. Everything felt stiff. I tried to bring my hands around to push myself up, but they just jerked and jolted behind my body. What the hell?

My eyes snapped open, and I could see my predicament in a mirror that was propped up in the living room. I was covered from neck to toes in a black latex catsuit. My arms were completely enfolded in a black leather armbinder. I saw leather boots fitted on to my feet, coming up to my knees, and the cuffs around my ankles keeping me secure. I wasn’t gagged, nor blindfolded, but a thrill of excitement and dread coursed through me as I saw these items, as well as a hood and collar, laid out on the coffee table next to me.

I levered myself up to a sitting position, and then realised there was someone else in the mirror’s reflection.

“Hey!” I tried to twist around to glare at the woman who had captured me, “What the hell--?”

She slapped a gloved hand over my mouth, the soft leather sending little tingles through me.

“I wanted to leave the last bit of your costume off until you woke up sweetie. Just to make sure you weren’t too freaked out.” I could hear the warm smile in her voice. She sounded kind of nice for a crazed kidnapper.

Too freaked out? I thought snarkily to myself. I managed to translate my thoughts into some angry grumbles. She laughed. Bitch.

 “Now if you promise to be good I’ll let you listen to my explanation without a gag in, but if you insist on being a big baby about all this and yelling, you won’t have another chance to talk until tomorrow morning. Got it?”

It was very tempting to give her a piece of my (heavily muffled) mind, but I could hear the sharp promise in her voice. She was deadly serious about that threat. Couldn’t hurt to hear her out. Right?

I gave a cautious nod of my head.

“Mmmm.” She ruffled my hair, “There’s a good boy. Now, let’s get you comfy for my explanation.”

She grabbed me by the shoulder and pulled me over to sit on the floor next to her legs. Her still booted legs. My eyes were drawn to them, and it took her a few moments to realize I wasn’t paying very close attention.

She gave me a light slap to the cheek, and then held up a finger in warning.

“Remember. No back talk.”

She began rearranging the items on the coffee table, “I’m going to finish with your outfit while I talk, okay sweetie?”

I really didn’t want to be further restrained, but it didn’t look like I had much of a choice. So I bent my head forward as she brought the hood up, and I listened as she began fitting me into it.

“So, I suppose it was a bit of a shock, me showing up to your front door like that hmm?”

You can say that again!

“Well sweetie, the founders of Bound4Fun believe in membership rewards. Unique membership rewards. That’s why our members get a special little birthday message, just like the one you got. Every member gets to pick dominant or submissive and then, based off that and their profile interests and chat room logs, they get their birthday surprise.” She smiled down at me as the hood fully enclosed my face. Then she began to tighten it, “A domme or sub gets dispatched to play with them, to really make sure that they have a special birthday. Because our members are special. You feel special, don’t you sweetie?”

She had finished tightening the hood. It felt tight, almost like a second skin. Two small eye holes, a small mouth opening, and two small holes for the nostrils were all the openings that remained to me. I opened my mouth to respond, then caught her eyes with mine. I flushed at the grin she wore and ducked my head.

“I…I…I mean…You…”

“Hush,” she brushed her fingers across my mouth, “No need for you to say anything sweetie. Rhetorical question and all that.” She giggled.

“Anyway, our members’ individual profiles will dictate what happens to them. Could be simple as a domme coming over and spending the day giving them a nice gentle intro to all things BDSM. Just hanging out and having fun. Heck, I’ve shown up to a guy’s house, quite a bit like you, and we ended up playing some old N64 games in between me showing him the ropes. Even got to spend an hour playing through Mario kart while he worshipped my boots while done up in a snug hogtie. Fun huh?”

I felt a spurt of indignation suddenly course through me at that, “Then why the heck did you drug me??”

She clamped a hand over my mouth again, a frown marring her face, “I don’t enjoy being shouted at sweetie. That’s your one free warning.”

Making sure I was sufficiently cowed she retrieved the gag, a panel gag with a shiny red ball on the inside, and held it in front of me. Responding to her silent command I opened my mouth reluctantly and she gently, but firmly, seated it inside.

“Obviously yours was a bit different than that, but hey,” she shrugged with an impish grin, “I just went off the average of all the stories you’ve read on the site and the conversations you’ve had with other members. You really dig the whole kidnap, forcible enslavement thing don’t you? Especially heavy on bondage, leather, and latex. Boots too,” she rubbed hers, her grin growing as if she sensed my deepening blush, “Anyway. Point is that your favourite fetish community is dedicated to ensuring its membership always enjoys memorable birthdays.”

“Now,” she reached past me and picked up the black leather collar from the table, “Time for me to collar you and for you to find out what fate awaits you as my slave. Mwahahahaa!” She laughed melodramatically. Her attempt at villainy almost immediately ruined as she cracked herself up. She wrapped the collar around my neck, still caught up in a fit of giggles.

I’ve officially been kidnapped by the most weirdly cute dominatrix ever. The thought zipped through part of my mind. The rest of me was taking guilty pleasure in the sensation of being collared.

The final bit was the snick of a leash being clipped to the front of my collar. She leaned back into the couch. Her legs snaked around me to either side and pulled me in, until my pelvis was pressed firmly against the couch and I was less than two feet from her.

“So. You’re my slave. I’m your dominatrix. Your Mistress. With me so far?”

I grunted. That was rather obvious, though I still felt a thrill run through me as she spoke those words. Mistress. Slave.

She smiled, as if she could sense the effect that had on me, “Since your profile suggested you were into more long term enslavement fantasies, I’m going to extend your birthday celebrations by a bit. I think a nice long weekend of slavery to your wonnnnderful Mistress is just what the doctor ordered. Don’t you think?” She ran a gloved hand down her catsuited leg and then across my chest and around my face.

I moaned. An entire weekend??

She gave me a playful swat on my rear, “Oh hush. Anyway, we’ll be spending most of today just puttering around, getting you familiar with your role as my slave. Because tonight, we are going to go out and hit up my favourite fetish club!” She jangled my leash chain, “Won’t that be fun!?”

My muffled exclamation was less moan or groan, and closer to yelling. I wasn’t going out like this!

“Don’t be such a party pooper!” She gave me three firm spanks on my rear to settle me down, “That’s the whole point of your outfit silly. Apart from making you look so sexy.” She traced her fingers around my cheeks and neck, eliciting a reluctant moan from me, “You’ll be my anonymous bondage slave.”

“Mmmmm,” she reeled me in by the leash until I was mere inches from her face, “I just looooooove taking cute boys like you out at the end of my leash.” She unbuckled my gag and treated me to a deep kiss, “Mmmm. Just delicious.”

For a few moments we stayed there, the leash taut and keeping my eyes locked with her own. I felt like I could get lost in those sparkling, mischievous blue grey eyes. And maybe I did. The next thing I knew the leash had slackened and she was pushing me back to the ground in front of her.

“Now, let’s get to some boot worshipping hmm? See if you can beat the standard that my geeky slave boy set.” She pointed at her boots, and flicked the leash for emphasis.

As I bent down, her playful spanks encouraging me, to begin to lick and kiss her boots I found the immediate anger draining away. Not completely, this was still…well it couldn’t be alright could it? But even so, a fairly humdrum weekend had suddenly transformed into a bondage filled adventure. And I wasn’t in the driver’s seat. Heck, I don’t think I was even in the main compartment in my captor’s mind. Maybe safe and secure in the trunk, but certainly not anywhere near the controls.

It was going to be one heck of a ride.