A Cup of Tea Bk. 03

This is the final installment of a three part series. It's recommended, though not essential, that you read the first two installments. There's a ton of sex in this installment as we watch Dax's submissive tendencies get the better of him. Enjoy!

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, merchandise, companies, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters depicted in sexual situations are 18 years of age or older.

Prologue

Borough of Manhattan

Present Day

It was the dead of winter in New York City -- early evening -- and already pitch black. A lone figure struggled through the icy cold gale like winds whistling up Broadway and through the theatre district. He rounded the corner, while holding his coat collar tightly together, and entered a warm, but empty lobby. He stomped his snow caked shoes in the foyer of the Richard Rodgers Theatre, silently cursing to himself at his tardiness. He quickly ran his hand through his hair and brushed the tufts of snow off the shoulders of his coat and went to the box office to retrieve his ticket from "Will Call." The usher signaled that he could show the man to his seat at the end of the current number.

He followed the usher, slightly hunched over, as he went down the aisle to his center orchestra seat. He excused himself as he squeezed past irritated theater goers to his empty seat.

"You're late!" hissed Keiko Muramoto through gritted teeth. Her admonition was loud enough to turn the heads of a few people near them. She couldn't help but see the jagged scar above his right eye, a continual reminder of his misdeed. His head dropped at the scolding, but not before he noticed that she was now showing ... with his baby.

"Sorry," he said in a whisper near her ear as he slipped into his seat. "I'll explain later." Dax Hanlon would have to do a lot of explaining. Would he tell her that he lost track of time when he was servicing two women with his tongue? Would he tell her that he couldn't get enough of the pain and humiliation dispensed by a cold and calculating Mistress Elaine? Could he keep these secrets from her? Did he want to?

He knew, of course, that she would extract the truth from him. She always did. He would confess anything for her affection. But why did she have to go away for over two months with her ailing mother, leaving him to his own devices? He had an insatiable need for submission (that she nurtured and stoked with high octane fuel), and that need ultimately proved to be corrosive to his fidelity to her. Keiko was certain that he had broken down again and gone to see Elaine, to her lair in the Connecticut countryside, when he could no longer suppress his unrelenting urge for submission.

The first act of the play ended. There was a rush for the bar, leaving Keiko and Dax virtually alone in their seats, an uncomfortable silence looming between them.

"Where were you?" she finally said, breaking the deafening silence. She used an accusatorial tone, which was bad news for Dax.

He knew he would eventually tell her anyway, so he spit it out. "Mistress Elaine's."

"I knew it," she said with certainty, tinged with disappointment. "I think it's time ..."

"Can we do this later?" he snapped back, talking over her. He instantly regretted his words. Keiko was not to be put off. She gave him a death stare that needed no words.

Dax looked around to see if anyone was listening. "Please, not here. Can we can talk after the play is over?"

The smartly dressed Japanese woman rose out of her seat, her face reddening. "It's over for me now." Her last act was to flip her crumpled Playbill on the floor and side step down the aisle away from Dax without looking back at him.

"Wait ... Keiko ... Keiko," he called to her back. She didn't flinch, although he was certain that she heard him.

Dax stood there, as if frozen in place, as the love of his life left the theatre. If only he hadn't ...

Chapter Three

Borough of New York and the Connecticut Countryside

Six Months Prior

Dax stood behind a seated Keiko in one of New York City's finest eateries and draped a fine gold chain in the middle of her exposed cleavage, clasping it behind her slender neck. She looked radiant in her form fitting black cocktail dress. Diners at nearby tables stole glances in their direction, wondering what the large, imposing man was bestowing on the diminutive Asian woman. Keiko pulled a small mirror out of her purse and adjusted it so she could see the pendant hanging from the chain, framed by her breasts, and its filigree of intricate goldwork surrounding a large emerald broach.

"It's beautiful Dax, just beautiful. I love it," his lover and Mistress gushed at the surprise present. She fingered the pendant, feeling the smooth cool flat surface of the gemstone, and looked again in the mirror.

"You shouldn't have," she said, meaning that he should have, and picked well. She put her hand on the back of his neck and pulled him down so she could kiss his cheek. "Thank you."

Dax was pleased that Keiko loved the broach. Melanie, his longtime assistant, helped him select the gift. Mel and Keiko had buried the hatchet between them, and no one was happier with that development than Dax.

"Mel helped me pick it out."

Keiko no longer bristled at the mention of Mel's name. She knew that Mel and her friend Rocky Saito were in a long-term relationship, so any jealousy on Keiko's part was a thing of the past. "Mel has good taste."

A middle aged woman with short bleach blonde hair breezed through a throng of diners surrounding them and stood next to their table. "So this is the person that's captured Dax's heart?" It was Dana, Dax's first wife. She was invited to the dinner to meet Keiko. She pulled off her light wrap and handed it to a waiter. "You're lovely, my dear. And what a beautiful broach."

"A gift from Dax." Keiko was radiant.

"So how did you capture his heart?" she asked, not beating around the bush. Dana was direct to a fault. The waiter pulled out a chair for her. She took her seat and draped a cloth napkin on her lap.

Keiko stole a glance at Dax, who rolled his eyeballs upward. "Community service," Keiko stated with a voice that lacked confidence. It was the best answer she could come up with without telling her the truth, which was "I captured it because he willingly submits to me."

"Community service??" Dana wanted to be polite, but was dumbfounded. Dax never performed a day of community service in his life to her knowledge.

Keiko couldn't help but pick up the skepticism in Dana's voice. "Well, it may have been because I was volunteering in a Japanese-American community center in my neighborhood and he wanted to be with me."

"You think?" answered Dana, hearing a much more plausible answer.

"That may be. But Dax did put in a number of hours at the community center, cleaning fish, washing dishes, moving furniture ..."

"Dax?"

"Yes, Dax."

"He must really love you."

"I think so," said Keiko. "Do you love me Dax?"

Dax's mind started to drift during Dana's inquisition of Keiko. Hearing his name, he answered without hesitation. "You know I do."

Keiko and Dana had a long discussion, with Keiko sharing details of her relationship with Dax (leaving out of course the kinky details, which Dana would have enjoyed) and Dana recounting her marriage to Dax and how it got off the rails (him fucking his administrative assistant -- a true marriage ender, although Dana came around to forgiving him -- after he divorced his administrative assistant). As they were talking, the incident with Hank Rossetti popped into Dax's head. Dana knew Hank, as he was a good friend of Dax's dad, and had attended a number of family events.

During a lull in the conversation, Dax interrupted. "Dana, remember Hank Rossetti?"

Dana's eyes sparkled at the mention of his name. "I haven't heard his name in years. Did I tell you that he tried to put his hand inside my pants at your sister's engagement party?"

Dax and Keiko both chuckled. "Sounds like Hank," said Dax.

Dax went on to recount Mel's history with Hank, which included two romantic interludes between his invaluable administrative assistant and his father's trusted business associate. Dana nodded when Dax told her about Hank reneging on his promise to Mel to ask his wife for a divorce. "Sounds like something that little bastard would do."

When Dax reached the point in the story when he lifted Hank up by the collar and Hank was begging for Dax to let go, Dana was sobbing with laughter. Then Dax told Dana that he turned down the Park Avenue building deal because Hank would have had been his partner. Dana's laughter stopped when she realized that Dax had turned down the one deal, above all others, that he had been seeking his entire business career.

"You must think a lot of Mel to have turned down that deal," the perky blonde observed.

"I do," replied Dax. "I do."

To Dax's surprise and delight, Keiko and Dana became fast friends, already plotting their next lunch, sans Dax. As the dessert was cleared, Keiko felt loved and accepted by her immediate company, a feeling that was foreign to a habitual loner. It was a window into what her world could be like if she let her guard down. Dana accepted Dax's offer to pay the bill and then bid her goodbyes.

"It was a lovely evening," said Keiko with a sparkle in her eyes.

Dax looked at her, radiant with her new broach. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. How did you like meeting Dana?"

"She's delightful. I can't understand why you divorced her."

"Sometimes I wonder that as well. I guess I was young and cocky at the time, and didn't appreciate what I had."

"So you're older and wiser now. Do you appreciate what you have now?"

"You know I do. I think you're wearing a token of that appreciation," he said, touching the pendant.

"I am, and I love it," she said. She drew him closer, and spoke in a low voice, not to be overheard by those around them. "There's something I want to give to you."

"What's that?" he whispered back.

The Asian beauty pressed her lips against his ear to block out the noise of the restaurant. "My virginity."

Dax realized the import of her confession and offer. They had never had sex in the traditional sense, and he knew that she was now ready for a long term commitment. He looked at her again in her slinky cocktail dress and his blood started a slow boil.

"Take me to your apartment before I change my mind," she said, surreptitiously slipping her hand under the tablecloth and rubbing the crotch of Dax's swelling pants.

* * *

Keiko had fastidiously preserved her virginity for the day she met a man she could love. The distance she created and maintained between the men she dated and herself was in her mind too wide a gulf to foster a traditional loving relationship. She held that belief until she met Dax. She was now sure that Dax was "the one" and had prepared herself for this moment -- to fully consummate her relationship with him. She didn't want it to be in the context of Mistress and sub, but rather in a vanilla fashion, with his seduction of her.

The romantic dinner, along with the unexpected gift of the emerald broach, put Keiko in exactly the mood she needed to message Dax that she was ready. Even though she had been with Dax for many months she was still anxious as a teenager when they returned to his penthouse apartment. She was more playful than Dax could ever remember, and during the ride back lowered the strap of her bra and partially unzipped her dress to expose a petite brown nipple, hard as he was. He had never wanted a woman more.

The apartment was dark when they arrived, but there was a welcoming aroma of freshly made popcorn.. Madeline was gone, but had prepared a large bowl of popcorn and had left it on the kitchen counter. There was a note on the microwave telling Dax to hit the "start" button. He did so, and the machine hummed for less than a minute and beeped. Dax opened the door and saw there was a small bowl of melted butter. He drizzled it on the popcorn and then retrieved a bottle of champagne from the refrigerator.

Dax plucked a few choice kernels out of the bowl and fed them to Keiko. "Ummm, decadent," she murmured at her first taste of the fresh, buttered popcorn. She washed it down with a sip of French champagne.

Dax followed suit, eating popcorn and sipping champagne, while the two of them sat on stools at the kitchen island and stared out the windows across the East River towards Queens.

"I could get used to this," said Keiko, admiring the magnificent view. She took Dax's hand and licked the butter off his index finger, then fixed her eyes on his and fellated his finger like a small cock. "I think it's time that I worshipped you." She slipped off the stool and knelt on the hardwood floor between Dax's legs. She rubbed the expanding bulge in his pants, then unbuttoned and unzipped them. Dax pressed his feet against his stool's footrest, lifting his bottom up slightly, which allowed Keiko to pull down his pants and boxer shorts. His cock came bobbing out, fully erect.

She gripped the base of his cock with her small, delicate hand, pumping it once and watching a droplet of dew form on the tip. She looked at him and used her tongue to lick the droplet off, then swirling it down to the base with her lips following. Dax threw his head back and moaned in a deep growl as the pleasure of her fingers and mouth made him shiver. Her mouth and throat opened to accommodate his girth as she felt the soft, supple skin of his penis slide across her tongue. She gagged briefly, pulling off with a long bead of her spittle arcing from her lips to the tip of his cock. After a momentary pause, she plunged her head down again, engulfing his pulsing manhood.

The pleasure threatened to overtake Dax's sense of control. "No more ... please," he begged as his cock twitched in her mouth. His lover sat on the heels of her feet and elegantly dabbed her mouth with the back of her hand to wipe off a combination of her saliva and his precum as if she were at a ladies luncheon. She stood up and turned her back to her lover.

"Unzip me," she said, arching her back slightly. She looked breathtaking from behind, elegant lines, porcelain skin and long, straight black hair, flowing down her back.

Dax pulled down the zipper on her beaded dress and let it fall to the floor. She stepped out of it and kicked it aside and spun around. She was wearing a matched set of black lace panties and a bra and her black pumps. She held her arms out slightly at her side and made eye contact, beckoning him forward.

He reached behind her and unclasped her bra. She shrugged her shoulders, allowing him to slip it off. Dax dipped his head down, planting a kiss on each erect, brown nipple, and then kissed her emerald broach. Each kiss caused a buzz of electricity and a feeling of lightheadedness within her. He dropped to his knees and lowered her panties to her ankles. She lifted each foot slightly so that he could slip the sheer material over them. He shimmied forward on his knees so his mouth was pressed firmly against her hairless sex. Her warm, fragrant nectar oozed onto his tongue.

"Lick me," she groaned, as she summoned the strength to stay standing.

His lips formed a tight seal around her leaking pussy and the slight suction he created exposed her hardened clit to the ministrations of his tongue. Her legs started to wobble on her heels.

"Ohhh ... Dax ..." she murmured, as a maelstrom of pleasure swirled through her body. She ran her fingers through his dark, wavy hair, then used her hands to press his head hard against her crotch. He fought to breathe through his nose as her thighs began to quiver. Her breath quickened until she sounded like a winded sprinter, her head tilted back, and in a breach of her usual reserve, she screamed -- not words -- but a primal scream. She sat on the bed, breathing heavily.

Dax rested his head on her still shaking thigh as Keiko floated back to Earth. It was unspoken but understood what was next. Dax lifted himself on his arms, over her, ready to mount her in the missionary position.

"Gentle."

The head of his cock, pulsing with desire, split open her vaginal lips, parting them in a sweet mixture of pain and pleasure as the slightly built woman lifted up her hips ever so slightly to ease the head inside her. She let out a gasp as the girth of his cock stretched her wide open, her sticky essence seeping out of her cunt.

He pressed further, finding to his surprise that her hymen was still intact, and that pressing forward there was resistance to the point he felt he was hurting her. Before he could utter a word, she guided him on his back and mounted him, allowing her to control the penetration. She bore down on him, her body weight causing the thin membrane to rupture. The sharp pain was accompanied by a trickle of blood, meandering down her thighs, as her hips met his, the full length of his penis inside her.

"Yes ... oh God yes," she moaned as he began the slow rhythmic dance with his hips, his length stretching and exciting her in ways she couldn't have imagined. The pleasure ... the moment ... watching his sweat-soaked body thrust into her over and over, her body writhing with each thrust. Her eyes were a dreamy state as he had her way with her.

She dismounted him and turned over on her back so he could remount her in the missionary position. She locked her feet around his ass, pinning him against her in an erotic embrace.

"Fuck me," she said in the familiar voice of a Domme.

Dax began slamming into her, his skin making a slapping noise with hers, as orgasm after orgasm rolled across his Mistress.

"Cum for me Dax. Cum inside me. Make my belly swell with your baby," she urged.

"Yes, Mistress," he grunted as she squeezed his cock, the sweet vise of velvet causing him to spew his seed deep inside her. They lounged there, on sweaty and twisted sheets, savoring the perfection of the moment.

* * *

There was a contentment and a calm to their relationship after it was consummated. No longer did Keiko wonder if Dax was "the One" and Dax no longer wondered if Keiko was truly in love with him. The couple continued to explore the boundaries of Dax's dark desires, but now in the context of a secure relationship. Keiko relayed the happy news that she was eight weeks pregnant.

But every relationship is not tested when things are going well, but when they are going awry. Such was the case when Dax was at work, enjoying his morning strategy session with Mel and the rest of his executive team, charting out his acquisition plans for the next two years. The group was wrapping up the meeting when Dax's phone, which was on silent, flashed Keiko's name on the screen.

"Excuse me guys ... I gotta step out for a second and take this." Dax stood outside the conference room and answered the call.

"Dax ..." Keiko was sobbing on the phone.

He had never heard her so vulnerable. "What is it dearest?"

"My mother ... she has cancer."

Dax gasped. "Oh my God ..."

"They picked it up on a routine exam. She needs to go to a cancer center in Houston."

"Go," he urged, "Go now. Don't worry about the money. I'll cover it."

She went with Mariko, knowing that he would be good to his word. And he was. He put them up at a five star hotel in Houston and arranged for a 24 hour car service. The cancer had advanced to stage three, and treatments took all day. After ten days, hearing only her voice for short periods of time, he started to become antsy. It was that itch that she scratched -- that streak of submission buried deep within the interior of an outwardly self-confident man. Keiko controlled the agenda. She was the only person he had been with to explore his submissive side. He didn't know where to turn to address his maddening itch.