Tea and a Tease Pt. 01

She rested her hands on the table then quickly adjusted so her fingers were intertwined. With a deliberately deep and slow breath, she twiddled her finger tips and stretched her neck side to side before reaching up to dig into the tense muscle, feeling the cold ache throb from her occipital all the way to her eyeball. Another slow, deep breath. She let her fingers lightly brush the tiny, fine hairs at the base of her skull in a light tickle. She dropped her hands once more to the table before resting her chin on her left hand so could surreptitiously look over her right shoulder to where Adam stood at the counter. Her eyes wandered the pathways of his broad, solid body slowly. His muscles tensed almost imperceptibly and he started to turn, two steaming mugs in his hands. She quickly dropped her eyes back to the table and laid her left hand over her right forearm attempting a composed, relaxed posture that belied the swirl of tension in her gut and the shallow, quick breaths in her chest. A light swish of air that brought the spiced tea aroma and something darker/stronger and uniquely him let her know he was approaching despite her position facing the corner.

He slid across the padded bench and gently set the mugs down, barely disturbing the surface of the drinks.

"Chai latte for you my dear." He pushed the mug toward her. Their fingers brushed and she felt the warmth of a gentle blush on her cheeks that matched the warmth of the mug against her hands. She gratefully curled both hands around the mug, stilling them for the first time since she'd sat.

"Sullying a perfectly good tea with milk, I oughtta correct that." he teased. Quietly, he added, "but there will be plenty of time for that later, won't there?"

Her face got several degrees hotter and her breath caught as she envisioned what he meant, sending a squirming warmth through her lower abdomen.

"Yes Sir, if it pleases you," she said to her cup before meeting his eyes- the brown matching the milky beverage before her.

"Oh, it does greatly my dear. And it does you as well, doesn't it?" He sipped his black tea, inhaling the muddled spices as he considered her over the rim and through the veil of steam.

Her freckled cheeks were still pink, like a young girl's, but the salt in her pepper dark hair and faint smile lines streaked out from moss green eyes. Her dark eyebrows furrowed, digging three vertical plough lines into her broad, bare forehead.

"Well, slut, what do you say?" He whispered, blowing on his tea and turning his eyes up to her.

She squirmed in her seat, inhaled deeply and said, "Yes Sir."

"Yes Sir, what?"

"Yes Sir, it does please me."

"What pleases you, slut? Don't be coy." He smiled down into his tea and took another slow sip.

She twisted the cup, bit her lower lip, took another deep breath, then met his gaze. Her eyes squinted in the tiniest expression of defiance.

"It pleases me to please you Sir. To submit to your use. In whatever capacity you choose. Even discipline or humiliation." She looked back down into her cup and then took a slow sip just as he had done, using the mug to shield herself while making direct eye contact.

"Even? Or especially?" He chuckled.

"Especially, I suppose, Sir."

He arched an eyebrow. "You suppose?"

She chuffed out a puff of air. He could see her jaw tighten and his fingers responded by tensing around his cup, but she quickly softened her face with a small smile and a miniscule head shake. He smirked at the battle that was clearly happening inside her head.

"Sir, I especially like the discipline and humiliation," she said slowly and deliberately.

"Good girl." He smiled. "How's that feel?"

The warmth of his approval wrapped around her like a soft blanket.

"How does what feel, Sir?" She dropped her eyes quickly before resuming sidelong eye contact. "I'm not sure I understand. Sir" she amended, trying to quell the brattiness and soften the edginess of challenge in her voice.

"How does it feel to know that you are an owned slut who enjoys being humiliated and degraded by your Sir?"

His words landed in her chest like a molten leaded musket ball fired from close range, crippling her breathing and stunning her thoughts. He watched the flame leap onto the top of her exposed chest, up her neck, and into her face. He smiled at the thought of her breasts pink with shame fire under the form fitting, silky black shirt that accentuated the curves he loved so much. Satisfaction settled into his chest and softened his posture into one more of affection than dominance, but he kept his face neutral.

"Come on now. Answer your Sir. Don't be coy."

Again, she breathed slowly and deeply while she formulated an acceptable answer from among the many sarcastic, sassy, bratty comments that competed in the front of her mind.

"I'm proud and lucky to be your owned slut, Sir."

"And?"

"And it feels good... freeing, a bit scary, but also exciting to know I am safe enough with you to submit to humiliation and degradation, Sir."

He reached across to cover her tiny hands with his own much larger ones.

"Very good answer. Good girl. That's right. I will use and degrade and humiliate you as is my right as your Sir and according to your purpose as my owned slut. I do so treasure you. You are safe with me. I'll hurt you. I'll use you- all of you- but I will never harm you. And the harder the use and harsher the treatment, the softer the after care will be."

She allowed herself to sink into his words like a warm bath, savoring the warmth and pressure of his hands on hers. Her chest opened allowing her to draw fuller breaths than she had in recent memory. She smiled wryly at the irony of the fact that for the first time in forever she felt safe. Sitting across from a man who openly said he was going to hurt her and use her. She shook her head with a half smile and single exhaled chuckle.

"Come sit beside me." He tapped the plastic coated seat to his right.

She half stood and rotated around the table and the padded corner of the bench seat, wedging herself between the corner and his thick thigh. She couldn't avoid being pressed up against him in the cramped corner. Their legs exchanged warmth. His hand trailed from her left cheek which he stroked with knuckles, to her right cheek that he slapped lightly, down her long neck and across her collar bone before sliding down the curve of her breast before settling on her thigh. Her body warmed and melted into him and a small, quiet moaning sigh escaped.

"Mmm, Sir," she breathed.

His fingers played along the seam of her jeans, traveling up her thigh, around the curve of her ass, and into the waist of her pants. She wiggled and arched as he tickled the spot between her lower back and the crest of her ass. His fingers slowly climbed two vertebrae until he fingered the tiny mole on her spine before tickling back down. She closed her eyes and savored the touch, her forgotten chai cooling between her hands still locked around it.

He ran his finger between the lacy band of her underwear and lightly snapped it but didn't say anything. Her face suddenly heated and her eyes opened as she realized her mistake. He didn't say anything, but he filed the infraction away in his memory for later. Instead, he used his free hand to pry her fingers from the mug and briefly laced his fingers into hers loosening the tight muscles before kissing her knuckles tenderly and bringing her hand to rest on his own knee so they sat twined together- their body heat, breathing, and pulses regulating and becoming one. She felt the tension in her muscles release and her head fell back against the bench so that her cheek rested against his shoulder erasing the last bit of space between them. Her fingers idly extended and flexed against his knee before increasing in pace and strength until she was clutching at his thigh, resisting the urge to move her hand to his groin. He kissed her temple, feeling her pulse beneath his lips. She felt him smile as he moved her hand to his cock. It was already hard and straining against his jeans.
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Tea and a Tease Pt. 01

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