Femdom High Tea

We, or rather, Sarah and her servant, had received in the mail an invitation to attend a Femdom High Tea.

Sarah is my wife and the love of my life. She's a workaholic businesswoman and often jokes that I'm her house husband as I spend my non-working hours doing all our life admin such as cooking, cleaning and shopping.

As great as our relationship worked for us both, we did have the problem of feeling our friend circles slowly shrink as our late 20s turned into our late 30s.

She'd casually mentioned one of her gym friends had invited her to High Tea as an opportunity for her to meet people her age, with similar interests.

Although, until this invitation arrived, I didn't know the friends she wanted to meet were fellow dommes, or that their shared interest was Femdom.

I hadn't always seen our dynamic as a femdom relationship. Sarah didn't dress as a leatherbound dominatrix, and neither of us was interested in the more hardcore femdom acts like pegging, humiliation or chastity.

But after Sarah described Gentle Femdom as a female-led relationship, largely focused on her but where both parties treat each other like real adults, I saw us. So from then on, I was happy to call us a gentle femdom couple.

Sarah described the event as just a low-key introductory-level Femdom party held at an acquaintance's house. She hastened to add if things went well we could move on to higher level parties.

We both immediately agreed to go, although there would need to be a few ground rules. Being a sub at a Femdom party meant I'd be expected to serve the women attending in many different ways.

And Sarah being a domme at a Femdom party meant she'd be free to indulge in whatever she pleased.

After some discussion, we agreed that oral sex should be allowed. But, she drew the line at kissing or having actual sex with the other attendees. We also decided that to get the most out of the experience we should fully commit to it, and put all our efforts into trying new experiences.

Simply put, our rules were, 1) she'd do whatever she liked. And 2) I'd do everything I was told to.

Our excitement for the event took over our whole week.

Sarah had been stressed and worn out from her work, but the closer it got to the weekend the more bubbly she was. On Friday I heard her happily singing a made-up song to herself about how this weekend she was going to be pampered.

I spent the week on a knife edge, spending half my time dreading the horrible tasks I might be forced to perform. The other half of the time excitedly daydreams of being used as a slave.

The only service I knew for sure that I'd be expected to perform was to help cater the event.

One of the things I quickly learned was the difference between a high tea and an afternoon tea. As a servant, I was expected to prepare two separate trays of food. I'd planned to make one platter of cupcakes and a tray of my favourite red jelly slice. But Sarah had to inform me that high teas are closer to real meals and usually include savoury meals. So I spent the week perfecting my mini quiche recipe to bring along with my tray of jelly slices.

Sarah was very taken with the themed dress code. The invitations called for "Dommes - dress however makes you feel powerful. Servants are expected to dress as servants."

Sarah had decided to have fun with her costume and got herself an 80s-style bright pink power suit, complete with enormous shoulder pads.

I am far more plain in my tastes so I decided that dressing like a cocktail waiter in a black vest and bowtie would suit the theme of servant.

Sarah decided that was far too boring and bought me some black thigh-high stockings and a garter belt to wear underneath. "You'll look far sexier pouring tea wearing these" she insisted. "Wearing only these" she added jokingly inverting Rose's famous line from Titanic. I sheepishly put the stocking on but quickly covered them with my suitpants.

It wasn't a large event, there were only five of us attending, three dommes and two slaves. The venue was just the house of one of Dommes so it felt like we were going over to a friend's house for an afternoon tea, even though we knew there'd be a lot more in store than just cakes and chit-chat.

We were the last to arrive so once we entered, the host introduced us to all the attendees.

The stern middle-aged woman who met us at the door introduced herself as Ms Katya. She emphasised the "Ms" as she introduced herself and I knew immediately from her tone that I didn't want to find out what she'd do if I forgot her title so I resolved to always refer to her as Ms Katya, never just Katya.

She was dressed like a stock image of a dominatrix. Black thigh-high stockings, a black PVC skirt with a black latex crop top leaving her muscular arms exposed. I thought she looked like a villain in an 80s Cold War movie.

She gave us a brief tour of the house, showing us the kitchen so I could leave the food I'd cooked there. Then she took us to the lounge room where the other guests were waiting.

It was a very average suburban loungeroom, with two lounges arranged around a coffee table, both facing the TV. A normal living room, except for what could only be described as an oral sex chair in the corner. At first, I thought it might have been a normal office desk chair, but once I noticed the leg stirrups, the crescent moon shaped gap in the seat and the kneeling cushion on the floor I knew exactly what it was. Its sole purpose was to facilitate oral sex on a woman. And if there was any doubt the base of the seat had a giant arrow saying "Your face goes here."

"Like what you see?" Ms Katya said playfully, noticing my interest.

I tried to downplay it, but the chair both excited and terrified me.

Next, she introduced us to her partner. "This is my little twink, David," she said playfully, slapping him on the butt. He was a least decade younger than Ms Katya, mid-20s at best but still maintained a boyish face, clean-shaven with floppy hair.

"But for today you won't be using his name. All servants will be referred to by number alone."

"You will be called Servant Number 2" she said, pointedly pressing her finger into my chest. "And David will be Servant Number 3. You'll both be graded on your performances today and the one of you with the highest marks will be granted the Servant Number 1 badge for our next party."

"How embarrassing for him!" Sarah joked looking him up and down "He's come wearing the exact same outfit as you Katya!"

Apart from a name tag saying "3" David was indeed dressed identically to Ms Katya, although his latex skirt was a size smaller due to his narrower hips.

A burst of laughter came from the nearby lounge from the domme I hadn't been introduced to yet. I realised this must be Sarah's gym friend as I vaguely recognised her. We'd met once before in passing when Sarah had introduced her as Emma, her friend who worked as a primary school teacher.

Emma was in her early 30s and was all red curly hair and laugh lines. And although she'd swapped her floral dress for a black one with a lace-up corset, I couldn't see her as anything but a primary school teacher. I couldn't quite explain why. Maybe it was her frizzy red hair. Maybe it was the way she appeared smiley and happy, but you knew in an instant she could turn, tell you off and order you to sit under the chalkboard.

Next, Ms Katya decided it was time for us to play an introductory party game.

She handed Sarah a ball of yarn and a pair of scissors and instructed her to cut a length. We then passed the yarn around until everyone had cut a length except me. I wasn't sure if a longer or shorter yarn would be best, so I copied Ms Katya thinking that given this was her game whatever she cut herself must be best, so I cut myself the longest string of anyone.

Boy, wasn't that a mistake. She explained the game was an icebreaker called "Take a Yarn, tell a Yarn." We were each to tell a story about how we ended up living the Femdom lifestyle for the length of time it takes to slowly wrap the yarn around our index finger. In that moment I desperately wished I'd copied David and cut myself a short string.

Ms Katya started slowly wrapping the yarn around her finger and told us her tale.

She started by telling us how she'd always loved bossing men around, even from a young age. She described in sordid detail how arousing she found it to watch a bound man strain against his ropes, how powerful it made her feel. She then expanded on how locking a man's cock in a chastity cage was like micro-dosing on that feeling of power for days at a time. She told us how she'd been edging David for a fortnight, only letting him out of his cock cage once a day and refusing to let him cum.

How she told the story was turning me on. I could feel her passion for domination, and even though I'm not interested in chastity, I found her enthusiasm for it deeply arousing. There's something so erotic about hearing someone's fantasies.

Her story just kept going, she ran through a laundry list of femdom activities and how much she loved them. She loved pegging. And she loved having a domestic slave. And how she'd dabbled in wax play, whipping, and CBT (she of course meant cock and ball torture, but I showed how naive I was by initially thinking she meant cognitive behavioural therapy.)

It was at this point I realised two things. One, that she'd cut herself such a long piece of yarn because she relished describing her femdom life. And two, that I'd have to follow with an equally long story. I sighed inwardly, as I hated public speaking.

David was next and his yarn and story were both short. He said how much he was drawn to the life because powerful women excited him. He'd met Ms Katya two years ago and had loved every minute of her expanding his boundaries and controlling his orgasms. Most of his time was spent singing her praises, how much he loved her, loved being controlled by her. He finished his tale by thanking her for locking his orgasms away for weeks at a time.

The next person up was Emma, she was genuinely excited to tell her story.

"I just find it so fun!" she said giggling. "I don't know how to explain it, I just find it really hot and hilarious. Let me try to show you."

She pointed directly at me, her voice switching from her bubbly friendly tone to that of a disciplinarian teacher.

"Number 2! Get down on all fours. NOW!"

Her sudden switch to such a forceful tone gave me butterflies, so I immediately dropped to the floor and positioned myself as her footstool.

As soon as her feet hit my back, her voice returned to being bubbly and light.

"I love this feeling of power. It makes me want to laugh, it makes me want to cum." she said with a loud laugh. "I'm between partners presently as I'm looking for the perfect person who will obey my every order."

It was Sarah's turn to tell her story, but Emma made no effort to move her feet, so I stayed on the floor as her furniture.

"Umm, I don't have quite as strong feelings about control as you two do. It all started because I have a high-stress job and a much higher sex drive than he does. Each night I'd ask for a massage to help me unwind. But that only made me hornier, and he wasn't always in the mood. He offered to go down on me, which of course I accepted. One night, I came twice and then, without meaning to, fell asleep without even thinking about offering to reciprocate."

Even though I'd heard this story a hundred times, it still got me hard. I loved the idea of her using me for oral sex.

"The next day he told me all about how being used that way was the hottest thing he'd ever experienced. He told me that having to go to bed still horny, made him even hotter for me and he wanted me to use him like that again. So I did. I used him again and again. Every night for a fortnight I had him doing some act of service for me. Running me a bath. Pouring me a glass of wine. Painting my toenails. And the massages, so many massages. Ladies you'll

have

to let him give you a massage. And after an act of service, I'd use him for my orgasms. Usually his mouth, sometimes just his fingers, sometimes a toy. There was only one constant, it was all for my pleasure.

"Initially I'd felt selfish, using him like that. But I knew how much he loved it, so I just kept pushing us further and further into Femdom, until he was basically just my nightly sex slave. I kept asking if he was fine with it, worried I was using him, but he repeatedly reassured me that he was loving it. So I continued to repeatedly use him for my orgasms."

Emma jokingly fanned her face. "That's so hot, I need to get me an oral sex slave!"

I felt a mix of pride and embarrassment once Sarah had finished her story, I was incredibly proud to have given her so much pleasure over the years, but the way the whole room was now staring at me put me on edge.

A feeling of nervousness filled me as I realised they were staring because it was my turn to speak. Emma's feet were still firmly pressed on my back, but I could lift my finger enough that I could wrap the string around it. I looked at the massive length of string with dread. I hated public speaking, but I'd agreed to try whatever was asked of me, so here goes.

I started by echoing what Sarah had said about her higher sex drive but then elaborated by explaining that giving any acts of service gives me deep satisfaction, some simple things such as running a bath, to intense acts of service like taking her to three back to back orgasms in a night.

I told them my version of the night Sarah had described, how I was so proud that I felt on top of the world from giving her two enormous orgasms in a row, using only my fingers and my tongue. I told them how I had fallen asleep with my cock still rock hard and I spent the whole night having the most wonderful dream, of me constantly eating her pussy and her cumming on my face.

I was barely halfway through the string. I realised I was going to have to go into an embarrassing level of detail to fill up the time I had left.

I explained that I love eating pussy more than I can put into words. Often, when I'm horny enough I can cum from doing that alone.

I still had so much time to fill, so I told them how I even chose to be subservient even when given the choice. For my birthday, Sarah promised to fulfil any fantasy I had. She was shocked when I told her that I wanted her to 'force' me under her work desk and use me for oral sex all day.

She had expected that for my birthday I'd want the pleasure focused on me. That I'd want to be the one in the rhetorical chair, forcing her under the table, using her mouth, cumming on her face.

But instead, I wanted to be used. So we snuck into her office one weekend when no one else was there. She came three times, I made her two cups of coffee and I didn't cum at all. I told them it was the best birthday I'd ever had because I felt so sexy I felt being used, that I loved being a little slut for her.

I don't know what came over me, I'd never referred to myself as a slut before, but it went down very well in the room. Ms Katya was grinning and Emma's cheeks had gone particularly red.

"Please tell me you lend him out!" Emma said to Sarah. "I'm wasting his services as a footstool!"

Sarah laughed and said that for today, my services were free for any of the women in the room.

Ms Katya then ordered David and me into the kitchen to prepare the first course while the women stayed on the lounges chatting.

"Thank you Number 2. Thank you Number 3." Ms Katya said as we each placed a three-tiered platter on the coffee table.

The servants weren't allowed to eat, of course, we were on the clock. Emma told me to take a plate and to fill it for her. She asked for a sandwich, one of my quiches.

The men weren't even allowed to sit on the lounges, so we both stood opposite the women, hands behind our backs awaiting our next instructions.

After the women had all been served their food, Sarah took me aside and spoke to me softly.

"Emma has asked me to lend you to her for a bit. I've already told her yes. Remember our rules? That I'd do whatever I liked as you'd do whatever was asked of you? Well, I want to lend you out. And I want you to do a good job."

I was full of nervous energy. Emma was gorgeous, and I loved to serve. But what services did she expect? And did she expect me to do them here, in front of everyone?

"I'll still be here in the room with you." Sarah continued "I want to watch. Would it help if I ordered you to?" she added as if feeling my uncertainty.

"Yes," I said.

"Well then, I order you to do

anything

she asks, and not to stop until she's satisfied."

"Yay!" Emma clapped happily when Sarah told her I'd accepted. "Let's start with one of those back massages."

I hesitated, knowing that servants weren't allowed on the longue. Emma gave me special permission to sit so I could massage her.

I started on her neck where she was carrying a lot of tension, working my way down across her shoulders. By the time I'd made my way to the small of her back, she told me she was ready for the next service.

Ms Katya insisted that as host, one of her guests should have first use of the chair. It didn't escape my notice that she was only a gregarious host towards the women. She didn't offer a single nicity towards either of us men.

Emma made her way over to the oral sex chair. She shimmied her panties off then hitched up her dress and sat in the chair. She pointed to the cushion on the floor and switched back to her bossy teacher voice.

"Kneel Number Two! Do you have to be told twice?"

From my position kneeling on the floor, the chair made her body into the most amazing shape. Her thighs filled my peripheral vision, and they led my eyes directly down to the most amazing sight, her pussy, visibly wet and topped with a small tuft of red hair.

Part of me was wild with desire. I just wanted to dive right in.

But the other part of me was very nervous. I could feel everyone's eyes on my back.

It wasn't until they started speaking orders and encouragement that I snapped out of my nervous paralysis.

"Eat it, slave!" Ms Katya ordered.

"Don't make her wait!" said Sarah excitedly.

So I started. I had to overcome the urge to dive right in, I knew how to build a woman up to orgasm so I quashed my desire to go straight to her clit.

I started just teasing her, kissing my way up her thighs. Then eventually moving onto her pussy with my tongue, licking her up and down, probing her opening. Then I gently start on her clit. I let her body tell me when she's ready to go up a level. As she gets more excited I add one finger. Then two. Then I start pressing harder with my tongue.

Soon I can feel how close she is. I focused on hitting her G spot with my fingers as I slowly started increasing the pressure on her clit. I felt her breathing fasten, as her moans got deeper and faster. I could tell she was close.

I focused on keeping the same speed. I was so turned on that I knew I'd be tempted to go faster and faster.

But I held my rhythm. Flicking her clit over and over. Rubbing her g spot in time. Slightly harder with each thrust.

I felt her cum against my tongue. Hard. I felt those sweet pussy contractions against my tongue that told me I'd done a good job.

"Oh my god, oh my god" she exclaimed between breaths. "You made me cum so hard!"

To be honest, I was close to cumming too. The only thing that saved me from cumming in my pants right there and then was the nervousness I felt from being watched.

After Emma had recovered she patted me on the head.

"Good boy" she purred. "Miss is going give you a good grade on your report card for that."

I could feel my cheeks blushing. Sarah asked me to turn around, so I turned to find everyone in the room grinning at me. David handed me a warm wet towel to clean off my face. Ms Katya remarked to him that he'd have his work cut out for him to win the Number 1 badge.