The Tea Girl [MFF, bdsm]

The teahouse is dimly lit by what little light filters in through the cluttered window from the overcast glare of this late spring afternoon. We have been meeting there once a week for the last two months. The girl who works behind the counter knows our name and our order. She smiles at the sight of us and begins making our teas with a coy, submissive glance. We always grin and nod, taking our usual seat near the window of the narrow, cramped space. Today, however, our seats are occupied by an uncomfortably pudgy florid businessman and his improbable companion, a little waif of a punk girl, perhaps fourteen years old. She is sipping from a huge mug of hot tea while he drinks a hot pink vitamin water, painfully self-conscious outside of the fluorescent glare of his office or the dingy lighting of the sports-bars he frequents after work.

The tea-girl glances apologetically at us, a few strands of her tousled straw blond hair falling in front of her delicate face. I look at your earthy, sensual face and make a mental comparison. While you are far more “my type” there is something compelling in the rustic, airy, farm house beauty of this young barista. Tea-ista? Tea-girl will have to do for now. She indicates some seats closer to her work-station and we gratefully settle in. A few moments later, she brings us our steaming mugs.

The aromas of the teas waft through the air and commingle. The strong bracing bergamot of your Earl Gray interplays with the scotchy smokiness of my Oolong. I stir in less than one half packet of raw sugar, watching the crystals dissolve into my drink’s spoon fed vortex. I fold the top of the packet over and set the rest aside in case I decide to have another.

You look at me intently, like a piqued kitten. I grin, somewhat smugly. I know you want me to begin, but you have known me long enough that when I get into this sort of mood, there is no stopping me. You stammer slightly. Your hand reaches across the table, tentatively. I feel the slight moistness of the soft mound of flesh at the base of your thumb, warmed from the radiant heat of your tea mug and it conjures fleeting phantoms of delight. We make small talk while I hold your hand, massaging your palm subtly.

When you sass me or say something I don’t care for, I pinch. Not playful, most definitely remonstrative, but not cruel either. We have shared this secret for so long that we can pass, anywhere, enjoying our exploits and eroticism in plain view of the public while nobody is any the wiser. A quick reminder, unseen, serves quite well to remind you of who has the final say.

You are unbelievably bright and curious. You do not even require the dull maintenance of a tired dynamic. The trust between us is so deep that sometimes you know my mind before I speak. You are not obsequious, like some of the others. You, in fact, are just the right amount of rebellious. It pleases me that no day, no sentence, no nanosecond with you is the same as any other. In the infinite snow shower of moments that make up one’s life, you never fall the same way twice. When I have to punish you severely, and of course, that happens only in private, you are contrite and make my heart swell with pride to have trained you so well.

When I have to enter you from behind while simultaneously penetrating you with a huge dildo, you whimper slightly, urgently. When I put the rough gag in your mouth, your eyes beg for just the right amount of mercy. When I have to spank you until your ass is red, to underscore the importance of never questioning my will directly, you seem grateful for the instruction.

So we sit, making idle chatter in the afternoon haze. I am jonezing for a cigarette, but making myself go longer makes me feel better than the cigarette would. I am thinking ahead. I am wondering if we will go to a hotel room later, as we sometimes do (and having learned from past lessons, a room I’ve already paid for and checked into to ensure efficiency and discretion) or if we will go have to go back to our separate lives tonight without indulging in the carnal passion that has dictated almost our every move in regards to one another since the day we met. Guilt often prevents us from commission of these acts. We are both with other people, and the risk is high, the danger exciting in its own way, but sometimes we act out of compassion for them, rather than our other shared passion, each other.

Today, I think we will. The spring has inflamed my senses and set my mind into a giddy, devil-may-care bent. I know I can see similar mischief in your deep, dark, almond eyes. The sex hangs about us like an aura. Fresh and enticing, like the scent of a flower, not spent and corrupt like the awkward aftersomething of an illicit affair. I can see the tea-girl keeps looking at us. Perhaps she has sensed the dog-fight of our pheromones and is aroused on some sort of subconscious level. I grin. I love to see the effects of things that happen around us that for all intents could be called magic.

I know you understand me without having to have said a word. Perhaps the tea-girl also senses the volumes being spoken without a word because she blushes as my eyes catch hers. Her nose is slightly uneven. It might have been broken at some point, but her looks still have a gamin charm that radiates from huge blue eyes and pouty “it-girl” lips. Her jeans hug her lower body. She is slight everywhere except in the ass. She has the most perfectly formed ass I have ever seen, with small girlish breasts hidden tastefully from view beneath a buttoned up white oxford shirt. Her legs are beautifully sculpted as well. The uniform of her job suits her.

You glance at me with an almost hurt in your eyes. I know it is fake, you are trying to provoke me. I pinch you hard, smiling. Your eyes look like they almosater for a moment, then I see the lids quiver with the beginnings of true arousal for you. You seem to shudder slightly and clench your legs together for a moment, under the table, and I know that we are definitely getting a room.

To increase your arousal, I make a salacious comment about our Tea-girl. I imply that with lips like that, I bet she sucks a mean dick. I know you pride yourself on your technique and when I look down and see your eyes wide open, staring up at me while you take the whole of my shaft into your throat, I don’t wonder why for one moment. Now it is your turn to blush. You make some sort of sassy remark and I pinch you again. You pout, chastised. I order some biscotti and we share the anisette laced cookies in silence. When we are done I make a brazen suggestion, whispered silently in your ear. I lean back and watch the excitement, jealousy and arousal flash across your face in kaleidoscope succession.

You begin to protest. I stop you with another, very soft pinch. You know it must be done. You’re smart enough, seductive enough and creative enough to ensure it happens. You sit, now musing about the possibility, while your bitter tea stills and cools in the shadow play of the tea house. I sip mine, savoring the soft, luxurious aroma. You stare at the tea girl for a while. Blushing, she stares back at you, timid and unsure. The atmosphere in the teahouse is palpable and has a sultry rhythm completely incongruous to the cool, overcast afternoon and suddenly it is threatening to overwhelm the senses of all three of us. The sweating and flushed businessman by the window and his companion seem oblivious. They look like they are getting ready to go. I hope so. Tea-girl smiles at you. Even I am unsure if it is an invitation or a nervous tic. She seems suddenly less innocent. She walks by the table, touching you on the shoulder and asks if there is anything else we would like.

I tell her we are fine, we are going to our hotel room nearby, all we need is a check. I make a point of showing her the key, with the logo of the hotel and room number on it. She smiles nervously and walks away, returning a few moments later with the check on a lacquered tray with Asian designs on it. Water lilies or something. She returns to her station and waits. I tell you both I will be outside and drop a bill onto the tray. I smile and make the hand gesture that indicates no change is necessary.

She walks over to pick up the tray, offering a timid thanks, and as she does, you brush her hand gently. She shudders in delight. Clearly she has been picking up on our tension. She walks back over to the wait station and counts out her change, then begins pacing nervously for a moment, unsure of what to do next.

Near the door to the washroom she pauses, then looks you dead in the eye. You smile and follow her through the narrow door. Before the door closes, I smile at you.

I wait outside with my first cigarette of the day. A few minutes later you exit the narrow storefront biting your lower lip, stifling a smile. You are flushed and look aroused, your eyes ignited with spontaneous sexuality. I smile and indicate that you should walk next to me. I like the difference in our heights, my mass and your slightness. It makes me feel virile, manly and in charge. The walk to the hotel is short and it passes with few words. You have understood my order perfectly.

“Is she coming”
“She will be,” you say with a combination of kittenish sass and Vaudevillian sarcasm.
“Good” I smile.

The wait is interminable, but one supposes tea-girl had to close the shop or arrange for someone to cover her and is probably weighing her options right now. I mean, I wouldn’t want to go into an unknown situation with practical strangers in a hotel room. I mean, I’ve logged countless hours of law & order and CSI. A pretty girl and strangers is almost never a good mix. Nonetheless, I think she trusts us intrinsically, seeing kindred souls.

I am right. There is a knock at the door. She stands there in her work jeans, but wearing a tank top of a somewhat electric looking, yet faded blue. Her unruly blond curls spill to her shoulders now that she has taken her hair out of her work ponytail and she looks nervous, but smiles at my welcoming gesture.

You walk to her and kiss her gently on the cheek. It is the first time I have seen the two of you kiss. A frisson of excitement comes over me but I control my emotions. She forcibly shifts her lips to press against yours, almost involuntarily entangling your long dark hair with her fingers. I watch the two of you kiss. My dispassionate demeanor belies the stirring in my belly.

She moves to me and tentatively kisses my lips. I let mine linger against the full soft contours of hers and inhale her scent. Our tongues probe each other’s with timid fascination, which grows into unbridled passion with every second.

You welcome her and tell her to put her things down. You offer her a drink, which she politely declines. Neither of us drinks and part of her seems to be impatient for the carnality to follow.

“I don’t know what my slave told you about us, but you must do as I say and remember that willful disobedience will be punished”, I say, staring at her blue eyes, ocean size and abyss-deep.

“Slave!”, I say to you, “undress her”
You obediently move to her and begin to pull off her blue tank top. She resists for a moment, but already aroused, she lets you slip the cotton fabric past her pastel flower-print bra and over her head.

You move to unbutton her jeans and I hold up a hand.

“Not yet”

I motion for you to come over to my side as I lounge in the overstuffed motel chair. I tell tea-girl to stay where she is.

“She should have known that I would have liked to savor the moment of her removing your jeans.” I explain, “Her inability to anticipate my needs deserves punishment”

I lift your dress and rest the fabric above your waist. I spank your ass hard, mussing your dark blue panties and leaving a blossoming welt. Several more strokes follow, cracking the silence with a report like lake-ice breaking.

A moment of uncertainty crosses her face with the first loud smack. I smile disarmingly.

“I won’t be so rough with you… yet”

When you are breathing heavy, I tell you to remove her bra and suck her nipples. You move back over to the tea-girl and run your hand down her back, savoring the milky smooth skin. You rest your hands momentarily on the bra clasp and then undo it with one deft movement. As the floral fabric falls away you cup her breasts with your hands and move around her, squatting so that your mouth is level with her breasts. You begin to suck and immediately she shudders and gasps. She is sensitive and delicate, it would appear.

My cock stiffens within my blue jeans and I absent-mindedly rub it through my trousers.

Noticing my arousal, your eyes make a plea of mine. I smile. I could use your accomplished lips on my cock, but I don’t want to interrupt the show.

“now, you may remove her jeans… slowly”

You comply, unbuttoning the brass fastening and hooking your index fingers into her waistband, you pull the tight jeans slowly down, revealing first, simple white cotton panties, then long, smooth legs, beautifully sculpted. She steps, almost stumbles, out of her jeans and you kiss her belly, then put your mouth over the mound of her white underwear, leaving a very moist patch. I see your head bobbing as you press your lips and tongue against her pussy again and again, and my arousal can no longer be contained by my pants.

I unzip and I can see the palpable hunger in your eyes.

“Feel free to take care of yourself… I need my slave for a moment” I say, almost apologetically.
I beckon you over and immediately you take my cock in your mouth. I pull back and grab your hair, hard. I look you in the eyes. You try to take my cock into your perfect lips prematurely.

“On my command only!”
I smack you in the face with my cock repeatedly as if to underscore the point. I feel you submit and only then do I let your mouth engulf my head.

I look over and tea-girl is playing with herself through the cloth of her panties, panting, eyes closed and occasionally glancing at us cautiously.

I let you work your magic with your mouth and close my eyes. After a few moments, I feel a second set of lips upon me. I open my eyes in surprise and see tea-girl now licking the head as you work the shaft with your tongue.

“I did not tell you to suck my cock” I say to her sternly

She looks at me with a mixture of apprehension and arousal and says

“I know”

I smile and grab her blond curls hard. I whip my cock across her face several times and then thrust it into her mouth hard, over and over while you watch, mock jealousy briefly crossing your face.

“this is but your first punishment. You will get worse, but I am being lenient since you are a novice”

She chokes on the thick shaft and makes faint gurgling noises. Her eyes well with tears. I grab your head in my other hand and take turns fucking your two beautiful faces.

When you are a mess of saliva and sweat, I sit back down motioning you both away. I order you both to stand upright about 6 feet away from me, facing one another. You both hurry to comply.

I motion for the two of you to embrace, and you do. I sit back and enjoy watching the two of you get worked up with one another, lips against lips, hands roaming. When I see that you are both suitably horny, I order you apart.

I then order you to lie across the stuffed chair next to mine. I bind your hands to one set of legs and your ankles to the other.

Tea-girl, looks on, nervous but aroused. I turn to her and take her in my arms, kissing and fondling her, even slipping a finger past the now-soaked fabric of her simple panties to finger-fuck her hard for a minute or two. I am trying to arouse maximum jealousy in you as I work tea-girl into a frenzy.

When she is moaning and begging in muffled breaths for my cock, I push her away. I move to you pulling her with me.

“I need you to do something”
“Anything,” she says, moaning
“work your fingers into her, one at a time”

She blushes, but gets to work immediately. Her first finger sends you into a moaning fit. I smile and let my cock dangle a few inches from your face. Sensing it, you move to place it in your mouth, but cannot because of your bonds.

The second finger goes in and you are squirming and begging. I slap your face with my cock again, pinching your nipples hard through your dress. I decide the dress is getting in the way and rip it off of you, the fabric tearing and digging into your skin. I play with your breasts roughly until I see ecstasy begin to play across your face.

With the third finger I sense the tremors running through your body. I move to stand next to tea girl, and suddenly, roughly thrust a finger in your ass. You squeal and writhe. I chuckle and move away, back to my chair. I am retrieving one of your toys from your bag. A big one. I lay it down right next to your face, teasing you with it pointedly but leaving it aside for now.

She puts the fourth finger in and thrusts, roughly now. I tell her to encourage you with a little dirty talk and she complies immediately. Telling you to take it, take it all… I remind her that you are a dirty little slut and no admonishment is too degrading for you. She asks you if you are a dirty little slut and you grunt a reply

“Yes… oh yes.. I’m such a little slut”

She spanks you hard, and we both look at one another in surprise and amusement. I encourage her with a smile. She asks permission to sink the thumb in as well and with my subtle nod she is suddenly fisting you, deep and hard, and you are just as suddenly begging me to let you come.

I ignore you. I am deeply enjoying the show and have decided it is time for you to suck my cock again. I place the head near your lips and immediately you begin suckling hungrily. I thrust in, roughly, past your teeth, pressing my cock against the back of your throat and you gratefully accept it all.

She is playing with herself now, having wriggled out of her panties. She has plied her delicate pink pussy lips apart and is strumming her clit in time to her wrist deep thrusts inside your soaking pussy.

I watch the interplay for a little while, fascinated and aroused. Your lips are almost vacuuming my cock deep into your throat. For a moment I am afraid you will choke on its circumference, but penetrated by her fist and my cock, you gamely accept it all with gusto.

When you have come explosively several times (with my permission, only), I decide it is time for her to come. I bring her around in front of you and lay her down on the other chair, which I have pulled over for just such a purpose. I force your head between her legs and watch you lick her pussy expertly and excitedly. The toy, a giant purple dildo, I retrieve and force into your ass.

She writhes in pleasure as she feels your pace quicken and you both are a mess of slick moisture and sweat. I listen to the grunts and moans, a symphony of ecstasy and work the shaft of my cock with my other hand. She is close to coming now, a frenzied maenad in the throes of deific pleasure. After what seems like an eternity, I give her permission as well and watch her come in heaving gasps like long plaintive sobs. I leave the purple cock deep in your ass and move around to between you.

I grab you roughly and force you to your trembling knees in front of me. I motion tersely for her to follow. With both of you in front of me, I work my shaft for a few quick seconds before I explode onto your hungry, adoring faces. I watch you lick my come from her gamine face with pleasure and shudder slightly, unsteady on my feet.

We fall asleep together in the hazy aftersomething of our unspeakable acts, all three of us entwined in a ball. When I wake, you are both gone. She has left her number and a brief note that simply says “Thank You. May I join my master and his favorite slave again sometime soon?- Tea Girl”

I am touched. I pack up my things and tidy up the room in silence, grinning to myself. I leave some cash on the dresser for the maid and head back to my life, richer for the experience. Like light and shadow, you and tea girl coruscate together in my memory, creating a rich melange for the senses.

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/9nyyd1/the_tea_girl_mff_bdsm