Lucy Lies to Tease

All characters in this story are over the age of 18.

I want to tell you a story, and it's all true except for the parts I made up.

I have a friend named Lucy. And Lucy is a bit of a tease. Actually, that's an understatement. Lucy is the queen of all teases. If there was a goddess of teasing they'd just put up statues of Lucy in her temple and call it good. She teases like fish swim and birds fly. Effortlessly. Naturally. Gracefully. And watching her at work is magical, but don't tell her I said so. She'd like it too much.

She also has a girlfriend who she calls Mouse. A sweet, submissive little thing you'd never guess was into anything kinky at all. I wasn't there when Lucy met Mouse, but she told me the story. And Lucy tells stories for only one reason.

Because. She. Wants. To. Tease. The. Fuck. Out. Of. Someone.

She called me on my lunch break at work. And the second I saw her name appear on my phone I should've turned my phone off, and then smashed it with a hammer, and then dropped the remaining fragments into a volcano. I didn't, of course, because I'm a glutton for punishment, and Lucy knows it, the tease. So I answered.

"Hello," I said.

"Hell-loooo sweetness!" Lucy said, sounding entirely too cheerful and happy. "Is now a bad time?"

"Little bit," I say, knowing she knows the answer. "I'm on lunch. Due back in forty minutes or so."

"Oh, then it's the perfect time," she exclaims, delightedly. "Because what I want to do is tease the fuck out of you when you can't do anything about it!"

"I hate you," I say, trying not to show anything on my face. The lunch area isn't crowded, but there are enough people around that I have to stay at least a little professional.

"Oh, darling," Lucy says, clearly happy at the response, "you say the sweetest things. Now let's get started. I want to tell you about my sub. She's the sweetest, kindest, politest little thing you'd ever hope to meet, and if you did meet her you'd think she was the most prudish variety of vanilla ever. And the truth is she's the single kinkiest little thing that ever walked the face of this earth. Purely submissive, too, and she loves it. And when she really wants to be dominated, do you know what she does? She doesn't act out, she doesn't disobey, she doesn't pretend to be a brat. She just gets sweeter and more polite and sweeter and more polite and sweeter and more polite until she'd make a courtesy teacher barf rainbows. And the more desperately sweet and polite she gets the more she's saying one little thing: Fuck. My. Brains. Out. And. Don't. Stop."

"Um," I say, swallowing hard, glancing desperately around the lunchroom. Nobody in particular has noticed my blush yet, which is amazing because it's so bright it's probably visible from space. A coworker happens to catch my gaze, waves happily at me, then goes back to her lunch.

"And she's kinky," Lucy continues gleefully. "She likes to be tied up and she likes to be spanked and she likes to be punished and she likes to be gagged and she likes toys used everywhere. Creative punishments. Even worse pleasures. Teasing her senseless. She likes it when I do that. Especially if I spank her first. Or throughout. And she will never, ever, ever complain or say something rude. I've never even heard her swear. One time I told her I was going to spank her until she said 'fuck' and my hand wore out before it happened. That's okay, though. I'm pretty sure she enjoyed it. Especially with the vibrator making her cum over and over and over again. I'd have broken down and begged for mercy but all she did was get more and more polite and sweet. I'd have sworn bloody blue murder and she was just purring like a kitten. Well, when she wasn't busy cumming."

"Erk," I say, crossing my legs, trying desperately not to look like I'm trying to hide an erection, which is hard since that's exactly what I'm trying to do.

"I'm a lucky, lucky girl," Lucy giggles. "Because there's some nights when I just want to make someone cum over and over again until they lose their damn mind. And I'd like to tell you a story about a night like that. Or would hearing that story be...inappropriate?"

"Have you ever not been inappropriate?" I ask, looking around, debating about leaving the lunchroom but it would look strange and, anyway, walking would be a bit of an issue right now.

"Only by accident," Lucy says. "But don't worry if it's been a little blush-worthy so far. It's about to get much, much worse!"

"Oh no," I say, looking down, trying not to meet anyone's gaze.

"Oh yesssssss," Lucy says. "Because it's not a proper story if it doesn't make someone blush. Mouse certainly blushes. That's what I call her. Mouse, I mean. Her real name is Chastity, and when you give a girl a name like that and then raise her to be completely repressed you wind up creating a sexual volcano just waiting to go off. And I want to tell you how I met my sweet little Mouse."

I pull out some paperwork, make a show of studying it intently just to try to avoid meeting my coworkers' gaze, hoping I'm pulling off a passable imitation of a man studying on his lunch break, knowing that I'm failing.

"There was this little theater," Lucy says, "that would show really campy and mildly sexy movies every Tuesday night. Rocky Horror Picture Show, that kind of thing. Nothing too explicit, nothing too scandalous, just campy fun. And those nights started getting known for people going dressed up in very light bondage gear. Nothing outrageous, no ball gags, no assless chaps, just...the kinds of things you could wear on the street but that'd be just a little risque. Lots of leather, lots of piercings, lots of cleavage on full display. And also those nights started getting known to the local churches. They didn't denounce them or anything, it'd just look too silly to come down on late-night showings of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert, but some of the more daring members of those places would show up. And they'd tell themselves it was a test of faith or something or other, but you know what? A lot of them came because they liked it. They were into camp and into bondage and into sex and they couldn't actually be into those things openly and so they'd tell themselves they were here to save souls. And some of them would try in the afterparties in the theater restaurant, and some of them would let themselves be corrupted for a night or two and then run right back to church on Sunday and confess. It was all cheerful, harmless fun, and both sides were a little in on it."

"I went," Lucy continues, "because I like campy movies and I like dressing up and I like teasing and I had friends who liked to go and it was fun to see them all dressed up, but I never really looked for love there. Who wants to fall into bed with someone who's going to be ashamed in the morning? I want to fall into bed with someone who's going to wake me up with her head between my legs and her fingers doing inventive things to my body and who already has me tied to the bed. I don't want to corrupt an innocent, I want to find someone corrupted and have a mutual corruption contest. But Mouse...was different. Mouse was special."

"She'd have to be," I say, shuffling papers around, "to survive your teasing at close range."

"Flatterer," Lucy giggles. "But it's more than that. Mouse wasn't like the others at all. She showed up in a dress that'd make a burqua look like a bikini, but something in her eyes marked her out. Most of the rest, the religious ones I mean, they'd show up, they'd look scandalized and horror-stricken, or at least they'd pretend to, but she looked fascinated and she didn't even try to hide it. She walked around to all the posters on the walls, and she fastened in on any poster that had anything resembling a bondage theme, and then she looked over the crowd and her eyes lingered on anyone in bondage-ish gear, and especially on the women, and especially on the domme-ish looking women, and then she saw me and ooh, sweetness, it was lust at first sight. And I saw it and felt it too, but I wanted her to make the first move because I wanted to be sure of what I saw. Because what I saw...was the horniest, sexiest, sluttiest little sub that has ever walked the face of this planet. Ooh, and can I tell you how much she blushes when I talk about her like that? Or how wet it makes her? Because god, she gets so hot and so wet when I call her things."

"Oh, you evil little tease," I say, trying desperately to keep my erection hidden, trying to calm down and think of something else, trying and failing. "Go on. Did she make the first move?"

"Yes," Lucy says, "but not right then. Because right then the theater doors opened and we went in. And the movie was silly and schlocky and by today's standards really, really tame and by the standards of whenever it was made it was borderline-pornography. Lots of people getting tied up for no reason, lots of tight leather pants, lots of really, really terrible dialogue, and half the audience openly loved it and half the rest pretended not to while secretly loving it and the rest just gasped in horror or something. And Mouse was sitting two rows ahead of me and off to the side because I was sitting with my gay best friend Dougie and she couldn't get a seat right next to me, and she was so into the movie it was adorable. She was, like, gazing at the screen openmouthed every time someone got tied up or someone's shirt got ripped off or something equally silly and mildly sexy. And then it ended and we all poured into the restaurant and Dougie grabbed his flame-of-the-moment and put on a great show, making out with his boyfriend just to draw scandalized gazes from one half of the room and admiring stares from the other half, because Dougie's a tease and an exhibitionist and far be it from him to pass up an opportunity to indulge both pleasures at the same time. And I was having fun watching the Dougie show, because if two cute men want to kiss I will cheerfully watch, and that's when Mouse walked up."

"Oh, really?" I say. "It sounds like you're more of a tease than Dougie."

"Please," Lucy giggles. "Nobody's as much of a tease as Dougie. That man makes me look like an ice queen. But Mouse...demanded attention. By walking up, standing directly in front of me, and then blushing like her cheeks were going to catch fire and looking up at me and then looking down and then looking up at me and then looking down. And she was waiting for me to say something, I think, but god she looked so fucking cute that I couldn't resist just waiting her out. And finally, after she looked up and looked down at least ten times, she managed to blurt out "Hello, mistress," and then she realized she called me mistress and she blushed even harder and looked down and oh my god, I wanted to pick her up and put her in my pocket. She said mistress and it was like she thought she asked me to strip her naked and spank her right there in front of everybody. Which, you know, she would've enjoyed, because she's such a little exhibitionist, but I didn't know that quite yet."

"I'm surprised you didn't try anyway," I say, swallowing hard.

"Well, you know," Lucy says, "Dougie might have. I'm not quite that horny. Or insane. Anyway, where was I?"

"She had just walked up to you," I say, enjoying the story but also desperately hoping it'll end before I'm caught out, "and called you mistress by accident."

"Oh, right," Lucy says. "And normally I would've politely brushed her off, but Mouse was special. And so I decided to test her. And because the movie had been really over-the-top and she'd loved it, I decided to be over-the-top domme with her because why not, let's see if this turns her on or makes her run away screaming or both, right? And so I leaned in and said 'I'm not your mistress. But if you want me to think about it, pop the first three buttons on that dress and I'll give you a kiss that'll make those boys jealous.' She had on this dress that looked like it was right out of Little House on the Prairie, floor-length and covering everything from shoulder to toes, but it did unbutton down the front. And the way she looked at me I could tell that she'd never unbuttoned even one button in public, no matter how warm the day was, and the thought of doing it...made her really, really hot. And I thought she'd hesitate but no, no, my sweet little Mouse was special. Her fingers were up and one-two-three the buttons opened and the bottom one was just at the base of her throat. She wasn't showing anything you couldn't show in a nunnery, but she blushed like she'd just put on a striptease that left her naked. And I smirked and leaned in and took hold of her hair in one hand and tilted her head back and whispered 'Last chance to run, my sweet little Mouse', because it seemed sexy and she looked like a mouse just begging to be pounced on and I couldn't resist teasing her. And she did this little thing where she squared her shoulders and stood there and probably thought she looked defiant but to me she just looked cute and sexy and sweet and kissable, and so I kissed her. And it was really, really fun. Because her eyes went wiiiiide and her tongue just kinda panicked and darted around trying to do something and not knowing what and her whole body went rigid for just a second, and then I wrapped my free hand around her and pulled her close and she melted."

Lucy pauses, chuckles at the memory.

"She's gotten a lot better at kissing since then," Lucy says. "Back then...one kiss almost put her into a coma. It was cute, though. And I drew it out a little because Dougie's not the only one who likes putting on a show, just the one who likes it the most. And when the kiss broke poor little Mouse was staring up at me all glassy-eyed and I don't think she knew what planet she was on. Not until she heard the applause. You see, while we were putting on our show Dougie saw us out of the corner of his eye and he was always on me to scandalize the more religious members of the crowd and when he saw me kissing Mouse he couldn't resist and by the time our kiss broke everyone was staring because he was pointing at us and urging people on, and then he led the applause because of course he did. And I thought Mouse would die of embarrassment and I was wrong. Because she liked it. She looked up at me and I said 'three more buttons and I'll take you home,' and one-two-three they were undone so fast I barely saw her fingers move. And I just had to kiss her again before we got out of there and this time Dougie kept the applause going through the whole kiss. Honestly, that man was born to be a cheerleader."

"And?" I ask, unable to not play along. Coworkers have filed in and out and I've caught curious glances but nothing more yet. "Did you take her home?"

"Oh yessssss," Lucy says, drawing out the word. "With six buttons undone on her dress, which revealed basically nothing but she acted like she was walking topless through the street to my car. And loving it. And I took her home. And I'll spare you the detailed are-you-sure-you-want-to-do-this talk I gave her because I really, really didn't want to take advantage of her and I got back something like I-am-sweet-and-innocent-and-I-really-want-you-to-fuck-my-brains-out-please-thank-you-please, except more polite and it took longer. And she'd never dream of using the word fuck. She loves it when I talk dirty, though."

"When would you ever do that?" I ask, wishing desperately I was at home, knowing full well I'm so wound up I could climax in seconds.

"Right?" Lucy asks. "I'd never fucking dream of saying anything dirty. So anyway, I had my sweet little slut in bed and after a prolonged yes-I'm-good-I-understand-now-fuck-me conversation I told her to strip. And told her that if I managed to get down to my panties before she did I was going to tie her up and tease her until she lost her mind and then and only then would I fuck her brains out. Because I was wearing a tight little dress with a corset kind of thing that just unzipped down the back, and no bra underneath. So it took me about five seconds to strip. And what she was wearing was the bastard love child of an Amish wardrobe and a ship's sails. I knew it'd take her ages to get it off, and that was my plan. Because as soon as I said that she started working on her dress and I was like zip-pop-button-button fwoosh and there I am in my panties looking very, very horny and very, very predatory and very, very domme. And she barely has half her buttons undone and she stops to look at me because all of a sudden she's not in a clothed woman's bed, she's in a nearly-naked woman's bed, and that nearly-naked woman is picking up a pair of bondage cuffs and looking at her with a gleam in her eye.

And then she remembers she's supposed to be stripping and oh lord she tried, but have you ever seen someone try to take off that much fabric? It takes time. And that was time I used to say all sorts of things to her. About how she must really want to be teased. About how she's taking so long that maybe I'll give her a good spanking, too. Her eyes got really big when I said that and then she said 'please, mistress' and then she let out another little squeak and then finally she got that dress off but she still had her underthings to go and I won't even describe them to you but oh my god, they were the least-revealing things you've ever seen. I have dresses that show more than that. In fact, I don't think I have any dresses that don't show more than that. She dressed like a nun. A nun who got buried in an avalanche of clothing. And watching her strip all that off was kinda sexy in that a beautiful girl I was going to fuck silly was stripping for me, but it was also kinda hilarious and I had to try not to laugh. And when she finally wrestled everything clear and looked up at me her face went from triumphant yay-I-got-it-all-off to oh-right-now-I'm-going-to-be-spanked-teased-and-fucked-even-more-yay. And I pulled her up to her feet and kissed her. And then I nestled her in close, turned her around, and bound her wrists behind her back and that turned her on so much her knees were shaking. And then I told her she had a cute little ass and I was going to take her over my knee and spank her cute little ass. And do you know what she said?"

"Yes, mistress, please, thank you?" I ask, my cock throbbing mightily in my pants as I look up at the clock, my lunch hour ten minutes from spent and I haven't eaten a bite. The walk back to my desk is going to be comically uncomfortable and Lucy knows it and the sheer glee in her voice told me she loves it.

"Like that," Lucy says, "but faster and more polite and more eager. And I bent her over my knee and she did this little wiggly thing with her hips that practically screamed spank me hard and, um, I did. And she liked it. A lot. And so did I. By the end I wasn't even pretending I was trying to punish her. Because this naughty little masochist was moaning and gasping and squirming like you wouldn't believe. At first I was trying to get her to beg for mercy but oh my god, it can't be done. You could spank this sweet little sub until the end of time and she'd love it and ask for more. Politely. Always politely. I think she's said 'please' more in bed than I've said it in my entire life."

"And then?" I ask as she let the silence drag out, knowing she was toying with me and unable keep silent.

"Oh, sweetness," Lucy says and I can hear the smirk through the line, "are you asking me to tell you what I did with a beautiful, naked woman I had all tied up and horny and teased and spanked senseless?"

"Yes," I say, after taking a long, measured breath, trying to make my voice level, as if I'm happily playing along rather than being tortured.

"Are you sure you want to know?" Lucy says. "Because it's really...really...hot. And sweet, too. And you at work, you might go crazy waiting until the end of the day."