He sits at your feet while you brush his hair out for bedtime. The brush tugs at tangles and he exclaims quietly each time but doesn’t try to move away, can’t use his hands to resist. When the snarls have been dissolved, you lean forward to inhale the sweet floral scent of the shampoo you washed him with during his bath.

“That’s my sweet baby boy,” you murmur, the brush set aside, your hands resting on his shoulders. “Do you know what tomorrow is, little one?”

“Yes, Mommy,” his pitch sliding higher as you curl your fingers so that your nails press lightly in to his collarbones. “It’s my birthday.”

“That’s my smart boy. Yes, tomorrow is a big day for us. Another year since I became your Mommy. I’m going to make it a special day.” Your nails lightly rake down to circle his nipples. His whimper is mingled need and unease; you feel it in your cunt.

“But I need you to be a good boy all day. That means you need to get a good night’s sleep. I can’t have you getting cranky while I have guests now, can I?”

“No, Mommy!” His nipples are pinched between your fingertips, his eyes rolling, head tossed back in to your lap. His held breath whooshes out of him when you lift your hands from him.

“On your feet, buster.” He rises to his knees, leans to get a foot under him and then the other, turning as he stands, obscuring his bound wrists, revealing his semi-erect cock.

You use the proffered handle to stand, lead him by it to the crib he sleeps in. He grunts every time you squeeze and tug as you guide him.

Once there, you lower the crib’s rail at one end, and bend him over so his torso rests on the crib’s pad, his prick dangling down between his spread legs.

“Mommy knows how much trouble it gives you when your balls are too full,” you dip your hand in to a jar of baby oil. He moans in anticipation, from your words, from the thick liquid sounds.

You wrap slippery fingers around the base of his cock, stroke down the length to the head, release, return to the base, repeatedly. Gently at first but then faster, rougher, grasping more tightly each time.

“Mommy!” he groans, thighs tense. “Mommy, may I cum for you?”

Once, twice, thrice more, you clench his cock and yank down the length before responding.

“Yes, baby. Cum for mama.” His cock twitches and spurts at your first syllable, continues as you never cease in your milking. “Keep cumming,” your other hand wraps around his scrotum, squeezes assessingly.

It’s only a minute or two before his next grunted orgasm and then no more than five before he sobs in release from a third. His balls feel nearly empty, but only nearly. A pair of fingers slid in to his bottom provoke a fourth ejaculation almost immediately, a fifth with the message of his prostate.

He pants and shakes, fingers clenching and stretching convulsively.

“Mommy didn’t tell you to stop,” leaning over him to whisper in his ear. Your lubricated thumb pushes into his asshole while your nails press into the wrinkled deflated sack of his balls. Your other hand slips beneath the fabric of your panties, coats your fingers with your arousal and rubs those juices on his lips, his nose.

He bucks underneath you, sobbing, screams when his balls surrender the last of his semen to your will.

“Good boy!” You coo in his ear, kissing him and stroking his spasming back and legs. Finally you release his arms from their restraints, help him to climb fully up in to the crib.

His smile is angelic when you tuck him in under his heavy blankie, lower and lock the crib lid, drape the whole thing with a heavy cloth. You skip the usual lullaby, hearing him already snoring softly.

The next morning, you’re able to give him his favorite treat for breakfast. Flipping the cover off, you lower the head rail and urge him to slide on his back toward you. His eyes are glued to your cunt, already spotting the thick cream trickling out.

“Mommy?” his voice is sleepy, petulant, not yet caught up to what he’s being offered.

“I brought you breakfast, baby. Two of your birthday guests showed up early and helped Mommy make it for you.”

Supporting the back of his head in your hands, you lower your cunt to his mouth, offering him salty, sweet cream. He tastes tentatively at first, slurps greedily, gurgling happily as he laps it all up, emptying you with his tongue.

When he tries to rub your clit with his tongue, his jaw, you lift up from him, tap him on his damp nose.

“No, baby. Not now. Mommy needs you to behave. Up you go,” nudging him to sit up, turn around, scoot out.

You sit, gesture for him to stand in front of you. First with scissors, then with a razor and finally with an Emory board, you depilate his groin. When you’re done, he’s entirely hairless from navel to knee, quiveringly erect and biting his lips raw to remain silent.

“That’s my pretty boy,” patting his cock gently, enjoying the way it lifts again after every soft slap down you give it. He holds still while you clamp a ring around the base of his cock, another around his testicles where they meet his body.

You tuck ribbons under the rings, wrap them around his genitals in snug braids, then cap the whole assemblage off with a shiny metal cage belted on with a strap around his waist.

“Pretty as a picture!” He blushes, nuzzles your chest when you stand and wrap him in your arms. His cage bumps against you and he moans at the sensations.

You have him kneel and watch while you undress, shower, redress for his birthday party. His cock is drooling precum by the time you’re ready.

The party is already in full swing, having been ignited by your early morning indulgence of guests. Mommies and Daddies stand, sit and lounge, chatting with one another while their special boys and girls please their guardian or another guardian or another little guest, as directed and permitted by their custodian.

You help the birthday boy to stand on a table near the middle of the room, next to his birthday cake.

“Mommies and Daddies, thank you all for coming. And for cumming,” chuckling and squeaking at that from the guests, “to my special little boy’s special day. The only gift I request of you, the present he truly needs, is for you to spend some time paying attention to him. Or if you can’t afford that, at least make sure that he knows you’re deliberately ignoring him!” A roar of laughter at that, and he blushes a deep ruddy hue.

You help him down and, patting his butt, send him to mingle while you do your own socializing with your peers. You keep one eye on him, of course. Watch him be kissed, fondled, spanked, shared by a Mommy & Daddy couple while their little girl watches hungrily.

You accept a Daddy’s offer of a ride on his little boy’s cock, calling your own boy back to let him lick your cunt clean after.

It’s not more than two hours before your boy is smeared with frosting, his face sticky with cum, his ass turned to hamburger from endless spankings. Seeing how overstimulated he’s become, how twitchy his cock is in its woven captivity, you call an end to the festivities, sending the guests home with gift bags and slices of cake.

When they’re gone, you hold his shaking, shivering body, softly stroke his clumped hair, his spattered body, croon softly until his breathing slows, deepens.

“Such a big strong boy you are, so brave, so generous. Just look at what a mess you are!”

“I’m sorry, Mommy,” he whispers against your shoulder.

“That’s okay, little man. Boys do get messy when they play. That’s why Mommies are so good,” you let go of the hug, slide to your knees, “at cleaning up messes,” He holds his breathe, staring, as you unbelt his cock’s cage, curl fingernails beneath ribbon.

“Quickly,” you finish your thought, ripping the ribbons from his throbbing member, seizing him in your mouth as ribbons of his own spurt from his fierce, tormented erection. He roars his release but keeps his hands to himself, like a good boy.

You keep sucking, kneading his balls gently, until he has no more cum to give you, allow him to stagger back, to sit.

“Happy birthday, my precious big boy,” you kiss his messy sugary mouth, hold his head against your hips while hr sobs out his overwrought feelings.

Then, like any other night, you put him to work cleaning up the mess from the party while you go tend to Mommy business. When he reports completion of his chores, you inspect his work, correct it by pointing at spots he missed, and then reward him by riding his cock and allowing him to cum after you have.

Then it’s time for his bath. He’s transferred enough on to you that you join him in the tub, scrubbing him pink and clean before letting him clean you.

Because it’s a special occasion, you leave the crib uncovered and let him watch as you pleasure yourself to exhaustion.

The End