Nia's Birthday – Part Two: Birthday Breakfast

POV: Nia

Nia came down the main staircase with her two puppy girls in tow.

Sugarpup and Honeytail kept close on all fours, satin collars catching the morning light, the tiny bells at their throats barely chiming. Nia moved barefoot in a soft white morning dress, her small crown tilted at just the angle where it looked both regal and playful. She was in that pure mood that happens only on birthdays—when the house seems to breathe with you, and everything is already yours.

At the foot of the stairs stood the waiting circle: Garrett, Simone, Lexi, Anjila, and Farida.

Garrett wore authority like a second skin—pressed suit, easy posture, the quiet attention that made rooms align without being told. Simone, beside him, matched his calm with practiced grace. Lexi stood beside them as if any place could be her throne. Anjila stood half a step behind her, demure and silent, hands folded. Farida, watchful as ever, completed the frame.

“Good morning,” Nia sang, letting the words sparkle. Her puppies curled at her feet like trained familiars.

Lexi opened her arms. “Happy birthday, little queen.”

Garrett stepped forward and placed a delicate diadem on Nia’s head, adjusting it with ceremonial care. “My little Princess,” he said, and kissed her temple. The room stilled, as if a portrait painter had lifted a brush.

Nia grinned. “Let’s sit. I’m starving—and I want presents.”

“Of course,” Garrett said. “Let’s begin your reign properly.”

Together, they crossed into the breakfast room. The table had been set with quiet elegance: pale gold runners, low white flowers, and slim candles burning with steady, expressionless flames. Garrett sat at the head and patted his knee; Nia beamed and, at his invitation, settled onto his lap. Simone took her seat beside him. Lexi leaned into her chair with lazy dominance. Farida served a generous breakfast.

“Is that your girlfriend?” Nia asked, stage-whisper light.

“Yes,” Lexi said. “This is Anjila.”

Nia’s eyes narrowed in theatrical appraisal. “She doesn’t look like a Queen of Hearts.”

“She is,” Lexi replied. “You just have to know where to look.”

A brief glance passed between them. At Lexi’s small nod, Anjila stepped forward with quiet economy, moved beside Garrett and Nia, and lifted the hem of her dress just enough to reveal a small red heart inked just above her pubic bone, a white Q at its center. The reveal was discreet—a vow, not a spectacle—and it was gone a moment later.

Nia clapped, delighted. “I want one. Someday. So everyone knows where I belong.”

“Maybe someday,” Garrett said, amused. “When you've earned it.”

Nia, emboldened, reached out and lightly brushed her fingers across the tattoo, observing how Anjila trembled—just a flicker, but enough. “It’s still sensitive,” she murmured, almost to herself.

Anjila’s breath caught, but she held still, eyes steady. Nia tilted her head, then drew back with a small pout. “Too much attention for you,” she said, teasing. “I think I’d rather have Daddy’s.”

She looked up at Garrett with bright, birthday-bold eyes. “May I sit closer?”

“You're already in my lap,” he said, amused, his voice still thick with sleep.

“I know, Daddy,” Nia murmured, her voice smooth as honey. “But I want to be special.”

Garrett gave a slow nod, his blue eyes locking onto hers with a quiet intensity. “It’s your birthday, baby. You don’t even have to ask.”

Standing at his side was Anjila, still and silent in a deep crimson sari and white leather collar. Her brown skin shimmered in the soft light, her black hair braided neatly down her back. She stood with practiced grace, eyes lowered—not to Garrett, but to Nia.

At the same table, seated just a few feet from the action, Lexi sat with one leg crossed over the other, her platinum braid falling over her shoulder. She sipped her coffee slowly, like she was watching an opera of her own design. She was.

Anjila was hers—her Queen of Hearts, her perfectly trained favorite. And now she stood quietly at Garrett’s side, part of the tableau Lexi herself had orchestrated.

Garrett’s voice broke the moment.

“Anjila,” he said calmly, “open my pants.”

Nia didn’t even glance at her. Her lips were on Garrett’s throat, her hips grinding in slow, teasing circles. Anjila moved instantly, kneeling with precision, and undid the buttons of Garrett’s trousers with skilled, obedient fingers.

His cock sprang free—thick, hard, flushed.

“She’s trembling,” Nia said, stroking him lazily. “Cute.”

“She should be,” Lexi replied smoothly, setting her cup down. “She knows who owns her. But today’s not about me. It’s about you. So—call it.”

Nia’s fingers wrapped tighter around his shaft. “Daddy’s so hard for me,” she whispered, licking her lips. Then she glanced at Anjila.

“You stay right here,” Nia said, her voice low and sharp. “Don’t even flinch.”

Without waiting for a response, she reached for the edge of Anjila’s sari—lifting the silk with practiced ease, fingers sliding beneath the layers of fabric until they reached bare skin.

Anjila inhaled sharply, her body stiffening, but she didn’t pull away. She only widened her stance slightly, trembling under Nia’s touch.

“Already wet?” Nia murmured, a cruel smile curling her lips. Her fingers found Anjila’s heat, slick and needy. “You’re pathetic. And perfect.”

Garrett’s hands gripped Nia’s hips now, steady and firm. She rose slightly, held his cock, lined herself up, and whispered:

“Fuck your birthday princess, Daddy.”

Then she sank down onto him with a low, breathy moan.

Her body opened for him, slick and warm, taking him fully. She rocked her hips slowly at first, savoring the fullness.

Lexi didn’t miss a beat. With a small, expectant glance, she summoned Simone, who had been waiting silently. The black-skinned submissive crawled beneath the table without a word, slipping between Lexi’s legs like a practiced routine.

Lexi leaned back in her chair, one hand cupping her breast, the other curling into Simone’s hair beneath the cloth.

“Go on, Mommy-Slut,” she said coldly. “Show me what your mouth is good for.”

A faint gasp left her lips a moment later as Simone began to serve.

Meanwhile, Nia had quickened her pace. Garrett’s hips thrust up to meet her, hard and hungry. Her moans grew louder, more urgent.

Then, between breaths:“Sis… should she be allowed to come?”

Lexi chuckled lightly, not missing a stroke. “Your day. Your rules.”

“Then no,” Nia panted. She reached for Anjila’s wrist and pulled her closer. “Rub my clit. Now.”

Anjila obeyed instantly, kneeling right beside Nia, her shoulder pressed to her thigh. Her fingers moved without hesitation—sliding between Nia’s legs and circling her clit with precise, rhythmic pressure.

Garrett growled low in his throat, eyes locked on Nia’s trembling frame.

“That’s it, babygirl,” he rasped. “Ride Daddy. Let them see who owns you.”

“I’m yours,” she moaned. “All yours, Daddy—don’t stop—”

The room erupted into rhythm and heat: flesh on flesh, wet breath, soft cries, urgent friction. Nia’s entire body was shaking, her voice broken, Garrett buried to the hilt.

Lexi came first. Her back arched, jaw clenched, breath held. A low sound escaped her as Simone’s tongue brought her over the edge.

Garrett followed with a deep grunt, his release hot and forceful as he emptied into Nia’s pulsing heat.

And then Nia shattered—crying out, her orgasm crashing through her, her hands gripping Garrett like an anchor as her body convulsed around him.

Silence settled like a fog.

Their skin glistened. Breaths slowed.

Nia slumped forward against Garrett’s chest, still trembling, his cock still buried inside her. He kissed her temple gently.

At the edge of the bed, the puppy girls waited, collars jingling softly, eyes locked on their owner.

Nia opened her eyes slowly and looked down at Anjila, still on her knees, fingers glistening. Then she turned to the waiting pets.

Her voice was hoarse, satisfied, unshakably smug.

“Well?” she said. “Go lick Daddy’s cum out of me, girls.”

The puppies barked obediently and crawled forward to serve.

Nia leaned her head back against Garrett’s shoulder, exhaling deeply.

“Mmm…” she murmured with a lazy grin.“And the day’s only just begun.”