Sex in a Coffee Shop

Camilla's Coffee Shop

The lights were low in the back room of the coffee shop. The smell of the days brews lingered in the air. A man kneeled on the floor, blindfolded with his hands tied in front of him. He was naked, save for his underwear. He was in his mid thirties with a body that was rounding out with age and deep chestnut hair. A woman prowled around him dressed in all black and killer high heels. Even the mask covering her face was black. Her hair was pulled back in a tight knot. She was toying with something in her hand.

"You've been a naughty man haven't you?" She growled. The man whimpered slightly.

"Yes mistress."

"Did you think I wouldn't find out?" She asked, her voice getting angrier. The mans head wiped around as he tried to figure out where she was standing.

"Yes mistress, I mean no mistress." He was stammering.

"Which one?" There was a sudden crack as the whip in her hand snapped against the floor. A visible shudder went through the man. "I'd hoped you wouldn't mistress."

She prowled closer to him, her hips swishing as she drug the whip along the floor behind her. "What's happens to naughty men who don't obey their mistress," she said through gritted teeth. She grabbed his chin, holding his head still even though he couldn't see her.

The man stilled. "They get punished mistress."

She smiled evilly. "And do you deserve to be punished?" The man trembled slightly. His breath coming in short pants.

"Yes please mistress." She stepped back, arms crossed in front of her.

"Beg."

Instantly the man threw himself on the floor. His hands and face were pressed to the hardwood as he bent over. "Please, please punish me mistress. Please, Ive done wrong." The look on her face was pure triumph.

She circled around to behind the man. Almost lazily she flicked the whip so it cut into his back. The man let out a cry of pain which almost instantly turned into a groan of satisfaction. The woman repeated the move four more times. The man was a trembling mess kneeling on the floor. She stilled her whip and ran her hands gently along his back.

"Who do your orgasms belong to?"

"You mistress," he said breathily.

"Is it ok to jerk off at home."

He shook his head. "No mistress."

She began massaging his back. Running her hands along the red marks crisscrossing his back. "You took your punishment well. You may free your cock," she said gently but solidly. The man scrambled to pull his cock out of underwear with his tied up hands. "Stroke yourself." She commanded. The man began to run his hand up and down his hard shaft rapidly. "Slowly, tease it a bit. Exactly." She coached the man on how to hold it. How to stroke it. All were done to her specifications.

The mans breathing picked up as he continued to glide his hand up and down his stiff member. The woman stood in front watching, one hand lazily holding the whip and the other stroking her face. When the mans body began to shake she yelled, "stop!" His hand stilled on his throbbing penis, begging for release.

She bent down in front of his face. So close he could feel her warm breath on him. "You will keep yourself like this until our next meeting. You will remember who owns your orgasms. You are allowed to touch yourself all you want but never come. What happens if you come?"

"Mistress will be displeased," he responded in a shaky voice.

"Do you wish to displease me?" She asked icily. He shook his head fervently.