Credit: SM Imaging

Service: Afternoon Tea

He tried to be invisible, and had largely succeeded, despite the obvious reality of a nearly naked man standing in a corner of the room. Tatiana and Her guests carried out an animated conversation, oblivious to his presence. Though his eyes were properly downcast, he could still see whether there were unmet needs among the coterie.

This had been a day of unfamiliar experiences. He’d never had to work in a service position; his technical skills had served well from his college days until his early retirement. The Tea Service Training had been months ago, but it, and Her requiring his attendance at it, still remained a unique event and a turning point in their relationship. Although he was an adequate cook, the task of preparing the tea for Tatiana had been a novel experience. Making delicate sandwiches and garnishes was foreign territory to him. He’d only attended a formal tea once before, on the veranda of the Empress Hotel in Victoria, and found the experience to be laughably anachronistic, completely artificial, conceived for the tourists. This would be different. It would be a more public demonstration of his submission to Ma’am; the tea and the food were almost incidental to the purpose. He wanted it to be perfect in every respect, but knew intellectually the unobtainability of perfection.

When She’d first asked him to prepare, he was confounded. What did this have to do with their relationship? It seemed completely orthogonal. Slowly, though, he began to understand Her intent. Submission is more than being a side of beef to be pummeled in emulation of a scene from Rocky. It is subjugation to Ma’am, and fulfilling Her wishes.

Slowly, as he had prepared the modest repast at home, he began to experience the sense of pleasure that serving Her provided. Though their meeting wouldn’t begin for hours, the anticipation grew. He fretted over whether his preparations would be good enough to elicit Her approval, so desperately desired. As his concentration lapsed, the insufficiently sharpened knife nicked his finger, drawing a small line of blood.

"That’s typical," he mused. "I always seem to hurt my hands just before seeing Her. Too Freudian!" While he’d never specifically been informed as much, he was certain that bleeding into Her food would be an inexcusable lapse of courtesy, so dealt efficiently with the small wound.

He hadn’t mastered radish roses, despite a diligent Google search on the topic. His repeated attempts just looked like mutilated radishes, not blossoming roses, so that was one skill he would not attempt to showcase today. She had requested a formal presentation, and he’d have to try as best he could. At least the orange baskets were nice. In the grocery store, acquiring materials, he’d seen the curly kale- decorative, elegant, and best of all, in her favorite color. And in contrast to all of the other garnishes they’d learned in the class, it didn’t require precise crafting to be beautiful.

Slowly the tea had come together. He devoured the edges of the sandwiches as he’d missed breakfast and lunch in his focus on the preparations, and he knew better than to present himself to Her without taking care of himself.

"Mmm, that’s not half bad."

The solubility of the various ingredients in each other turned out to be a pleasant surprise. Each texture evoked a unique flavor. The cream cheese dissolved the oils from the onion and the sun-dried tomato in one version and from the orange zest in another. Its silky smoothness melted away in his mouth, leaving the textures of the onion and the tomato to be savored in another moment. The honey wheat bread complemented the sweetened cheese that, in dissolving away, yielded to the crunch of toasted almond slivers and the chewy texture of dried cranberries.

What had the Instructor said? "Start with cream cheese, and throw anything into it. As long as you segregate sweets and savories, it’s hard to go wrong."

Cucumber sandwiches had never struck his fancy, so he found the taste of the scraps to be uninspiring. They did look pretty, but in his opinion, they lacked the subtle interplay of the other creations. Yet another unexpected quandary-- while he wanted to be certain that nothing he served Tatiana and her friends was less than exquisite, he knew that it would be arrogant to assume that his own tastes would accurately predict Hers. However, he knew that She valued tradition, and cucumber certainly was the archetypical, quintessential filling for tea sandwiches.

A glance at the clock showed that he’d best get moving to meet his timeline and be ready when she desired him to be. Preparing for the tea, he couldn’t afford treat any task as off the critical path... Quickly and carefully, he placed all the pieces into a convenient box. Before transferring the box out to his car, he’d hurry through a quick shower. After all, though Tatiana would know from experience exactly how much effort this whole endeavor took, part of the effect was achieved by making it all seem, as much as possible, effortless...

******************

As his reflections on the preparations subsided, he noted that Tatiana’s cup was nearly empty. Whoops... He attempted to glide over to her, but the teapot rocked on the tray and the serving tongs tinkled against the sugar bowl.

He stood at her side, silent, until there was a lull in the conversation.

When she caught his eye, in a near whisper he asked, "Would M’Lady wish for more tea?"

She turned to him, a slight smile on her face. "Yes, with a slice of lemon."

"Yes, Ma’am," he said quietly.

With his joints, it was impossible to make the graceful kneeling gesture that the Instructor had taught, but he dropped to one knee and set the tray on the floor. She handed him Her cup. He placed a slice of Meyer lemon in the cup and poured in the still steaming Lady Grey tea. He raised the cup, then brought it back to his chest, holding it reverently over his heart for a moment, before extending it to Her.

He blushed as his knees cracked noisily as he stood, but the Ladies appeared to take no notice. He stepped over to the next Lady.

"Would M’Lady wish for more tea?"

"Not right now," she said briefly, returning to her conversation with Tatiana.

He dipped his head, and then repeated the offer to the third. After, he retreated with the tray, placing it on a convenient table, before taking his assumed station in the darkest corner of the room. The pattern continued as he topped off tea cups and provided the Ladies with chances to select from the trays of sandwich triangles, of cubed cheeses and little bunches of grapes, and of the tiny rich dessert pastries he‘d bought.

Tatiana glanced at the clock and with a shake of her golden mane, gestured to the Ladies that the tea would be concluding. All three set their plates and cups down, and, in a burble of conversation, left.

He removed the black bow tie and the briefs and knelt before the X-frame, uncertain of his success. They had ignored him, offering no inkling of whether his efforts were approved or scorned. At one level he knew that this was the point, but at a more raw, emotional level, he longed for Her approval. His mind raced as he waited, a seeming eternity.

The door opened, and She walked in. He did not look up, but could see Her stern expression reflected in the mirror. At that moment, he knew he had failed Her in some unknown way. His heart sank like a stone tossed into a deep pond, not even a ripple remaining of his hopes for approval.

"You may stand up," She said icily. "Turn towards me, and look at me."

A broad smile broke across Her face as She reached out Her arms to embrace him. His emotions sprang up from the depths to the heights in an instant.

"You’ve pleased me, and the other Ladies."

He sobbed softly in Her arms from the emotional release of the moment. She held him tightly with one arm, and with Her other hand stroked the back of his head.

"You could use some practice in graceful movement, but we almost forgot you were there, the lesson of the exercise. There are times when the Bottom is completely objectified, a fixture, unnoticed. There are other times when I shall focus all my attention on you. You need to learn from both."

In far too short a time, She released Her embrace.

"Thank you, My Goddess," he whispered hoarsely.

Credit: SM Imaging