Her Service Charge

Author's Note: This is a story about a sensuous, femdom, tease and denial role-play, with a small twist. It starts a little slow, but if you stay with it, you'll get to the hotter parts. It is the first story I have published on Literotica, and I would appreciate any feedback.

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Don't you know me yet? Yes, I am cruel- since

you take so much delight in that word- and

am I not entitled to be so?

-Sacher-Masoch, Venus in Furs

Gwen paused at the doorway, fingering the card key to room 1870. She abruptly turned, and paced back to the elevator, stalling for time. In her somewhat revealing attire, she'd felt self-conscious walking through the marbled lobby of the swanky suburban Hilton. And now she needed a moment to collect her thoughts.

After so many years, this should be easier. But his repeated emails- requesting for her to dominate him- had unnerved her. By nature, she was sweet and giving, loved by many for her warm and empathic personality. She enjoyed pleasing others, and this manifested in broad spheres of her life, including in her work. And she certainly didn't like to act selfishly, or to take advantage of others. It left a guilty pit in her stomach.

But regardless of her inclinations, his emails had explicitly asked for something quite the opposite. If he said it once, he said it a dozen times- he was seeking a tease and denial role-play in which he would be kept intensely aroused, while being heedlessly used to give her physical pleasure. He made it apparent that this was something he'd wanted for a very long time.

In a way, his messages had initially come off as a bit demanding, entitled even. Like a spoiled child, used to being pampered by his mother. And what's more, her lack of experience with D/s had left her feeling a bit stupid, and a lot inadequate. She wouldn't have tolerated it, if he had become at all critical of her or hinted that she "wasn't doing it right." She hated that, and would have ended it right there.

But, to the contrary, he'd turned out to be surprisingly pleasant to work with, and their email exchanges gradually had become more warm and playful. He had offered her quite a bit for the day, and explicitly gave her the freedom and safety to do things her way. And when she'd specified her boundaries and requirements, he was more than happy to abide by them, including for him to obtain all of the items she'd requested.

So, back and forth, across several conspiring emails, they'd negotiated over almost 2 weeks, agreeing first upon a basic understanding, and then a general script. Some aspects of the scene were clearly outlined, for example the manner in which they would greet each other, and some of their early interactions, "to help set a teasing tone." Cell phones would be off, to avoid any interruptions. And he'd even relayed an array of "helpful links," to give her a flavor of his predilections; it was a virtual mini D/s 101: "from Masoch to Misato." She giggled at the intensity of his desires.

But somehow, the way he knew just what he wanted, was intriguing. It had made her ponder her own life. What had she been wanting for a long time? Certainly, her desires were less sexually-focused. Sure, she absolutely adored a good body massage. But assertively taking sexual pleasure for herself? That was often uncomfortable, even embarrassing. In fact, despite her significant experience, she still vastly preferred to be in the pleasing role, and to leave her own desire dammed up.

Besides, life was so busy- there was never really enough time for herself. She was eternally occupied, handling all the day-to-day details of work and home. It left her frequently exhausted and anticipating blame if things didn't go right. How nice it would be to escape those feelings. Laughing under breath, Gwen thought perhaps she should email someone and request a role-play that they assume all her noxious daily tasks for her! Now, that would be a fantasy.

So, after considerable persistence on his part, she'd relented. And once she agreed, she never liked to back out. She'd followed his links, done her research, planned a few hot moves, and even practiced some teasing talk in front of the mirror. So now, on a temperate Tuesday afternoon in May, Gwen felt as ready as she'd ever be for their role-play session.

She felt certain of his basic desires, and that she could muster enough moxie to play the tease. But she didn't want to disappoint, and was a bit less sure about how they'd both respond to her taking control. Standing in the hallway, questions ran through her mind. Did he really want for her to be so cruel? Could she elicit the sort of submissive manner he wanted? And if so, could she be comfortable staying in a dominant role, and focus on her own satisfaction- stifle her guilt and the inevitable impulse to relent and please him?

Finally, she resolved herself. "I've prepared for this and I'm ready. So c'mon," she thought. "Besides, I'm allowed to wallow in a little unadulterated pleasure as much as the next girl, right? Why can't I be 'Goddess for a Day'?" She chuckled to herself, checked her makeup in a hallway mirror, and hummed Bananarama under her breath, as she walked more confidently back to the room.

Sliding the card into the door, she also reminded herself of the considerable fee that she had incrementally extracted from him in their negotiations. Now that brought a smile to her face. The door clicked green, and she strode into the room.

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Levi's anticipation was peaking, and he was almost quivering with excitement. After years of yearning, months of scheming, and finally, a couple weeks of carefully planned contacts, the day was finally here. He wanted to present as a cool customer, used to this sort of meeting. But he was way too jacked up for that. He sniggered at his pitiful efforts to gather a degree of restraint; he had managed to arrive only two hours early for their arranged session.

Earlier, walking to the room, his hands had shaken slightly, unsteadied by the weight of his carefully packed day bag. Everything made him self-conscious, especially the young blond woman behind the check-in counter. He had mumbled a request for a second room card and an envelope, and then left it for her at the desk- "for Miss Gwen" scribbled in shaky capitals.

It had taken years for Levi to finally pursue this; years to finally express his fervent desires. Heck, it had taken much of that time just for him to articulate it all to himself. But now, with both kids well-situated in their respective colleges, his career securely on auto-pilot, and his marriage long-safely stable, he felt a certain restlessness, a renewed daring to pursue his long-suppressed desires. And yes, he now knew how to articulate exactly what he wanted: to be teased, controlled, and thoroughly used by a sexually powerful woman.

So he had emailed her, requesting to "engage her services in a D/s sexual role-play." It was done stealthily, as he feared both discovery and rejection. Initially, she had balked at his request, stating that such dominant play was outside of her comfort range and usual practices. But from what he knew of her, he was certain that Gwen was the right one for him- that under her sweet exterior lived a devastating tease. And so he had coaxed her, assertively bargaining for her attention. And when, in due course, he'd offered a considerably enticing fee, she'd relented, and agreed to meet him that day.

While he was anxious to start, part of him wondered if, in his building enthusiasm, he'd ceded too much in their negotiations. Of course, the whole idea was for her to be in charge, right? But still, beyond him having recourse to a safeword (her choice as well, quite silly really- 'Aunt Prudence'), she was explicitly given the power to make all the choices, and he had to obey, including to decide whether ultimately he'd be allowed to cum.

So now, with time to spare, and nerves to settle, he found himself sitting on the oak-boarded king-size bed, luxuriously fitted in satin sheets and a sumptuous duvet. He hoped she would appreciate the room. Suddenly, he wondered for a moment what his wife was doing now, before refocusing himself, and returning to the task at hand. With a steadying breath, he unzipped the day bag, and began to prepare everything they might need. This process included arranging her stipulated light meal, which he left on the small round table next to the window, with the high forested view.

He then removed all his clothing and left it in a neatly folded pile on the rear bureau, next to the tall free-standing carved-wood mirror. Wanting to be clean and fresh for her, he shaved closely, then showered thoroughly, and combed his graying hair. Finally, as agreed, he affixed a formal black bowtie around his neck, meandered to the small foyer, and knelt by the door of room 1870.

Over the following minutes, he repeatedly tried to distract and soothe himself. He did math in his head and told himself that this was no big deal. He sniggered at his own absurd desires: what have I gotten myself into? This all quelled him a little. But his heart still raced like a greyhound, every time he heard footsteps pass in the hallway.

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She arrived ten minutes late.

He jerked when he heard the card key click in the door, and gasped when he saw her. Gwen looked more beautiful and sexy than he could ever have hoped for. She was wearing a soft pink, halter-top dress, which bared her back, tied behind her neck, and ended just below her knees in an open skirt. Levi gasped as he noticed the way her nipples poked through her obviously braless front, and the way her dangling heart pendant hung between the swell of her breasts. She wore matching pink flats, which she promptly slipped off to the side, and her lipstick glistened in the same hue. Her brown hair was firmly pulled up in a ponytail, held with a long pink ribbon, which dangled down her neck. Her clear blue eyes looked serious, subtly defined in black.

With a tense vigilance, Gwen quickly surveyed the room. She nodded her approval at the items on the table, and then looked intently down at Levi, seeming to ponder his supplication. Decision made, she approached him, then twisted around and lifted her skirt, exposing the black silk and lace panties which covered her ass.

"Kiss," she said, and he leaned in to cover her silky rear with reverence. But before he could fall into a rhythm, she rushed away, walking directly to sit at the table.

"I'm famished!" Positioning carved chopsticks in one hand, she snapped the fingers of her other one, and pointed to the floor in front of the table. As they had choreographed, he crawled over to kneel next to her, folding his own hands behind his back. She began to eat.

"Good, I see you got the vegetable sushi roll I requested. I assume it is from Mount Fuji Palace, as specified?" He nodded, and she opened a bottle of her favorite pilsner, pouring it into the waiting iced glass. The meal was neatly arranged on a small round silver tray, in an attempt to lend an air of elegance.

She eyed him pensively, "You look like a butler with your bowtie. I shall have you serve me today." She repositioned the food off the tray, leaving only the beer glass. "Here, hold this for me. With one hand only, off to your side, yes, there, close to me."

It had been understood that she would begin with some teasing play, and she had planned accordingly. So, as she nibbled, she raised her right sole and pressed it along Levi's face to kiss, remembering on his entreaty to have him underfoot. He readily obliged, simultaneously struggling to hold the tray in balance, and sighing as he saw her thighs exposed by her hiked-up skirt. His head started spinning at her rapid actions, and as his anxiety quickly abated. He felt himself rapidly stiffening.

"Mm, this is delicious. You've done well." She pushed some toes into his mouth, and took another bite. She then reasoned that it might help if they 'set the table' for a moment.

"Well, let's review. I'd say I've learned a lot about you from our recent correspondence. It's clear that you want me to control things, right?" Chewing, she gave a gentle kick to his cock. A small splash of beer landed on the tray.

"Watch that!  I want to enjoy every drop of that." She continued, "And what else? I know that you want me to keep you aroused," she nodded down approvingly at her growing success on that front already.

"And you were quite clear that you want me to use you for my own pleasure."

She continued to eat and toy with him, exploring his face with her feet, until several bites later, she licked her lips, and then lavishly deposited the final wedge of roll. She wiped her mouth, and sat up in her chair, returning her feet to the plush carpet below. He groaned at the loss of physical contact with her, and was duly impressed with her rapid assumption of her role.

"Well, I'm gonna make all those things happen."

She stared at him a moment, collecting herself and assessing, before reaching to gulp down the bottom half of her glass. "I think we're off to a good start, don't you?" Indeed, to this point, they had not deviated much from the script, and despite their initial mutual feelings of tension, both derived a degree of safety from its guidance. She didn't wait for a response, drawing some confidence from his obviously building arousal.

Her stare grew imperious, as she impassively lifted one arm, and with a tantalizingly languid air, drew a drawstring up from behind her neck, until her top fell forward, promising revelation, only to be caught, mid-air, by her trailing hand.

Levi gasped. And she rubbed the thin fabric in slow, wide circles, loosely over her breasts, allowing him brief glimpses of her roundness, but still holding him at bay.

He groaned softly, eliciting a glint of satisfaction from her eyes.

She continued the peek-a-boo for a moment longer, before pausing, and then allowing the top to fall to her waist, her breasts emerging in full glory. Levi moaned a bit louder, as she cupped them for him admire.

"You want these, don't you? Maybe, I'll let you touch them later. But right now, you just have to watch." Running circles around them with her forefingers, she studied his desire.

He was clearly already aroused, and he thrilled to his submissive role. Suddenly, he sneezed, twice, and she looked at him quizzically, before giggling and shaking her head, then continuing.

"In fact," she continued, "I'd say there are a lot of things I might not let you do today. For starters, you cannot so much as touch your dick without my permission, and never mind even thinking about cumming, understand? I'm in charge here, and I'll be the one who gets the pleasure. But if you're good, and follow my lead, you just might get something before we end."

She stood up, and stepped out of her dress, briefly losing her balance in the process, but quickly stabilizing herself by leaning a hand on his shoulder. Now, clad only in her panties and pendant, she began to move toward the bed to lie down, but then paused. Stoking her dominant role, she stood over him, arms akimbo.

The way she loomed above him fed his arousal, and he quipped, "You look fantastic. I would gladly be your Jeeves for you anytime!"

She squinted dubiously at this unsanctioned outburst, so fast on the heels of her instructions. It struck her as pandering and also retriggered her discomfort. It irked her. Reacting, she gambled to veer to off-script, and put him in his place.

"'Anytime?' Really? When would we do that? You have a wife, correct? I wonder what she would make of all this?"

His eyes jerked wide in alarm and confusion. He swallowed and tried to compose himself. Defending, and afraid of offending, he fumbled for words, "Please, I...I...I wouldn't want to upset her. I've always...just been... afraid to ask her to do something like this."

Staring down at him, the tray still tenuously balanced, she scoffed. "Hmm, that's rather lame. What are you more scared of- that she'd walk out, or that she might enjoy it?" Raising an eyebrow, "Careful what you wish for: she might take to it, and then your life could really change." Her laugh was dripping disdain, "But maybe, that's what you've been afraid of all along; afraid that you can't handle it. So, instead of the direct route, you wussed out, and emailed me."

With that, she strolled over to the bed. Crooking a finger for him to follow.

"Crawl."

Her comments hit the mark, leaving him further off-balance, and he understood that she meant business. Depositing the tray on the table, he rushed to comply, instantly doing likewise when she gestured for him to kneel at her feet, with his arms behind him.

She sat on the edge of the bed and watched him get situated, pleased with her ploy, and with his obedience. She felt suddenly empowered, as if on a throne before him. So far, so good.

Using a sweeter tone, she offered a quick reconciliation, "Just remember, if you're good, there will be treats for you."

She then allowed herself another moment of spontaneity. Perhaps she could tease him and get her own flow going too. As if falling into a trance, she deliberately inched her legs wide open.

She slipped her left hand under her lace-fronted panties, gently patting and flicking in slow rhythmic motions. He could vaguely see her bush through the weave and was mesmerized as her pace fitfully gained momentum. After a minute, he thought he could hear faint wetness, a tidal shift, which made him sigh with desire. Then with a deep breath, she extended her legs, leaned back on the bed, and arched her back, rolling her panties down her legs, until they wadded onto the rug just in front of him. Steadying herself, she sat up, rested her elbows on her spread knees, and then her head on her woven fingers. With a grin, and the slightest downward nod, she ordered,

"Sniff."

And instantly, he bent over and buried his face in her discarded silk, ardently seeking her innermost essence. 

She watched for a moment before whispering, "I bet you'd like to smell the real thing, wouldn't you? Or maybe even taste it."

He looked up, nodding vigorously, "Oh god yes, I'd love that. Please!"

"Please? Are you already begging? I like that. Beg some more."

So he did, willingly, kneeling there in front of her, with his hands still grasped behind his back. He pled to lick her, to suck on her, for the right to be closer to her core, for permission to worship her in any way she desired.

She listened intently, puffing up with power, and unwittingly chuckled. She then dropped a leg and poked at his rigid cock, watching it teeter below her experimentation. "Hmm, it feels very nice to be so wanted. You're becoming quite the desperate little man, aren't you?"

"Yes, Miss Gwen. You are so hot. You're making me crazy with all this teasing."

"Well, good. I believe that was the idea, right? But how about right now, you share a little of that excitement with me. I had my meal; maybe you should have one too."

She then went for it. Extending her legs, she locked her feet behind his head, pulling him within inches of her pussy displayed below him.

"Ok, now lick, but slowly. Use your tongue broadly, and go around, and then over, my clit. But stay slow. I'll let you know when to speed up." Because, she reasoned, regardless of the emails, that was how she liked it done.

He had to restrain himself not to dive right in. Truth be told, he'd always loved to eat pussy, and would passionately oblige on the rare occasions when his wife permitted. But he followed her directions, taking slow laps around her swelling lips. The taste was intoxicating, everything he wanted in the world. He craved her, and wanted to devour her whole, but he repeatedly checked the impulse to push the pace.