“This is it,” Ray thought, admiring rich brown coffee dripping majestically into the pot. The coffee was beautiful, single origin of course, and smelt almost floral and fruity. Just perfect. Ray smiled and twirled his ironic mustache which according to his friends from Warsaw made him look like Polish nobility.

Today was indeed the day. Alex, the only other person who was supposed to be at work in the morning, had just called in sick. Ray had the entire place to himself. He slowly began to unzip his trousers and took one last look at his Super Mario boxers. This was his only chance.

“Fuck, do I really want to do this?” he muttered to himself but the answer was obvious. Of course he did. Hasn’t he been waiting for this opportunity for years? Didn’t he go to a barista school to fulfill this little fantasy? Didn’t he spend countless nights with his cock in his hand and this exact scenario in his head?

Yes. Yes, he did.

Ray slid his boxers off and grabbed the coffee pot. It was full of heavenly liquid, smelling so sweet and forming beautiful, candy floss-like steam. Ray fought an urge to pinch himself. Is he dreaming or is this really happening?

He held his hardening cock and dipped in in the coffee pot, moaning quietly. After a second of euphoria, pain reached him with the strength of a million exploding suns. Sweet, sweet pain elevated his cock and made him come almost instantly. Pulling his cock away from the coffee, he managed to spill most of his cum onto the floor, only a few drops ending up in coffee.

“Gods, this is beautiful,” he thought, wiping his penis with a napkin and hissing quietly with pain.

He then proceeded to bring the coffee to a lady sitting in the corner, as if nothing had happened. She was perfect, just like the coffee he brought to her: small, dark and smelled wonderful. He inhaled the scent of her perfume and put the pot on her table.

“A cookie for you,” Ray winked at her as she gave him a puzzled look. “On the house.”

Of course he didn’t feel guilty. He just wanted to do something nice for the lady, for all the nice experience he had with her coffee.

The customer bit into her cookie and Ray went back into the kitchen, grinning like a maniac.

***

The day went by quickly. Ray did his chores automatically, fantasising about the hot coffee on his cock and the lady who later drank that coffee. Before he knew it, the day had come to an end and it was closing time. The last customer had just left and Ray was alone with all the machinery, cleaning sponges and detergent. He sniffed his thrifted cat hoodie; it smelled like coffee. When he goes back home, he will be able to breathe in this marvellous scent and immediately think of what happened earlier. Ray immediately felt his cock harden at the mere thought. He will have some more fun with it later tonight, no doubt about that.

His fantasies were interrupted by an unknown force twisting his arms behind his back. Before he realised what was going on, he was belly-down on the dusty floor, his black, thick-rimmed glasses lying down in a coffee puddle that he had been intending to wipe off all day.

Well, so much for cleaning.

“What the fuck?” he muttered, instinctively wondering what to do.

Should he scream for help? Or is it better to keep quiet and do what he’s told? Maybe they have a gun?

“You stuck your cock in my coffee, you fucking asshole.” Of course, it was her. Relief washed over him. She’s not going to kill him, nice ladies like her don’t kill.

Before he finished the thought, he felt her cold fingers tying rope around his hands and later his feet. Ray screamed, to which the lady replied by spanking him on the arse.

“Now, now,” she said slowly and softly, as if she was speaking to a dimwitted child. “If you’re a good boy and don’t scream, I won’t gag you. Will you be a good boy and shut up?”

“Yes,” Ray nodded, feeling sweat trickling down his face. The girl blindfolded him and rolled him over so that he lay on his back, cake crumbs from the floor digging into his shoulder blades. He obeyed her and kept silent.

“Good boy,” she slapped him on the face. His skin throbbed with pain but his cock started throbbing with desire. The lady noticed it immediately. Cursed skinny jeans.

“Aren’t we a little masochistic fucker?” she asked, slapping him much harder. This is going to leave a mark, he thought. A beautiful red mark.

In the meantime, she lost interest in his face and began to take off his trousers. It took a lot of work and not only because they were so tight. Ray decided to play hard to get and was wiggling wildly.

“Stop. Moving. You. Dick,” ordered the lady in a calm, collected voice. To make sure he would listen, she dug her long fingernails into his flesh and scratched him from hips to knees. His skin burned and Ray obediently stopped moving. The trousers were soon at his tied up ankles, his cock exposed to cold evening air. It didn’t matter though as nothing could stop his rock-hard erection.

“Stop grinning, fuckwit. Or I’ll believe you’re enjoying this.”

She rolled him over again and then Ray felt her finger pressing around his hole. Fuck, he thought. He wanted her inside him as badly as he needed his coffee every morning.

Finally, the finger went in, pushing further and further. Beautiful, beautiful pain was all Ray could feel at that moment. He couldn’t take it any longer.

“Fuck me,” he begged. “Fuck me.”

The lady withdrew her finger and snorted.

“What’s the magic word?”

“Please.” Tears started rolling down his face, onto the floor. He had never wanted to be fucked so badly. His cock ached with desire.

“Well, fuck you.” Ray heard the noise of a slamming door and muffled footsteps as the lady was leaving. Soon he was all alone.

They would find him in the morning, all tied up, with his trousers down and bruises on his body. He would be shamed and humiliated. But Ray didn’t give a single fuck about the humiliation. All he cared for was to meet the lady again.