Yes, Sir

by Rachel Kramer Bussel

  Pulling out, he let his cock rebound against his stomach. It pointed up in the air, completely covered with my saliva.

  “Suck my balls.”

  Sticking my tongue out, I dabbled it onto his churning balls. Then I gently grazed my teeth against them and finally sucked them into my mouth. Duke was groaning like a madman now so I intensified my suction. Within seconds, a stream of his come leaked down the side of my cheek. He quickly grabbed his cock and proceeded to empty the rest of his delicious liquid onto my face.

  When he was finished, he dragged one of his fingers down my cheek, scraping some come off. He then rubbed it onto my lips like it was lip-gloss.

  “Stand up.”

  Once I was on my feet, he smashed his lips to mine. Our lips glided together as we engaged in a passionate kiss. The part of the corset covering my breasts had lowered so now my nipples were rubbing against his bare chest. His hands wandered down to my ass, gripping my cheeks roughly.

  “Get on all fours.”

  My pussy was already wet and craving his cock when I got into position. His fingers tugged my thong down my thighs. I could feel his breath brushing my skin, giving me goose bumps.

  I loved getting fucked from behind. There was something about being bent over and on my knees with his cock driving into me. He had complete control over all my pleasure and I was very dependent on everything he did.

  My nipples grazed the floor as he slammed his cock inside my pussy. No other man has taken me to the places Duke has during sex. He knew he had power over me and used it to his advantage. I would do anything to keep him in my life.

  “Say my name.” Duke was close now as he panted his words out. His fingers dug deeply into my hips, his pace changing. As if to torture me, he slowed down; every few seconds he’d pull out, then shove it back in.

  “Duke,” I moaned and he slammed his cock all the way inside.

  “Louder.”

  “Duke!” I shouted and he slammed into me so hard I collided with the floor.

  “Fuck.”

  I lay flat on the floor as he started to buck his hips roughly against my ass. The beautiful sounds of our skin crashing together echoed throughout the room. With each thrust he made, the delicious pleasure started to build up.

  The sensation of his cock brushing my walls got overwhelming. I started to moan louder and within seconds my pussy walls fluttered as my orgasm suddenly shook my body. Behind me, Duke growled like an animal as he held himself steady. Soon his come came pouring out, mixing with my juices. He collapsed onto my back, his sweaty chest pressing against me.

  “Who do you belong to?”

  “I belong to you, Duke.”

  “Tell me which color is the enemy.”

  “Pink is the enemy.”

  Our bodies finally separated and I turned around to face Duke. I could see the satisfaction in his blue eyes and it lifted my spirits. We engaged in a passionate kiss then, and eventually we fucked many more times that night.

  SITTING ON ICE CREAM

  Lisette Ashton

  22:45

  “You’ve got something on your skirt.”

  “Where?” Kay glanced back over her shoulder, trying to see where Jane was pointing. “On my bum?”

  “Yes. A big white splotch.”

  Kay turned her face away so Jane couldn’t see her knowing smile or the satisfied blush on her cheeks. “Of course. Now I remember. I think I was sitting on ice cream.”

  19:05

  It was probably the crummiest chore she was expected to endure. While she loved the atmosphere of working in a theater, Kay loathed the cleaning duties that fell to her before her work properly began. She supposed, because it was a small theater, and because the management was trying to keep costs down, it was only fair that she had to do some of the menial tasks. After a matinee, and before the evening show, the theater needed a cursory clean through. And while she accepted most of the chores, she didn’t enjoy bending over the velour chairs and scrubbing melted ice cream out of the plush seats.

  “Shouldn’t you be in uniform?”

  She stiffened when she heard Ted’s voice: rich, powerful, syrupy, and yet commanding. He had a way of speaking that always sent a warm shiver coursing through the crotch of her panties. If he had decided to go into doing voice-overs for radio commercials, Kay thought she would buy anything he was trying to sell.

  “I should be in my uniform,” she admitted, not looking up, not daring to turn and meet his gaze or his disapproving frown. “But this chair was dirty and I wanted to…”

  “Are you making excuses?”

  Kay fell instantly silent.

  The thrill of working in the theater was tremendous. She got to see snatches of visiting shows. There was also the prestige of being involved, even if only in a small way, with the entertainment industry. But, more exciting than either of those two elements: Kay got to wear a uniform. Her usherette outfit consisted of heels, stockings, a skirt and blouse in the style of a French maid’s costume, and all of it was set off with a white lace cap. It was one of the most arousing ensembles she had ever had to wear. The stockings hugged her thighs and calves. Hold-ups, they bit snugly against the tops of her inner thighs. The high hem of the skirt, and the low neckline of the blouse, were like a conspiracy to make her indecent. The ordeal of having to wear such revealing clothes was a sheer delight to the reluctant exhibitionist that lurked in the shadows of her psyche.

  And she was getting paid for the privilege!

  However—even more exciting, and possibly the most appealing part of the whole experience—she was in a role where she had to take orders from the incredibly authoritative Ted.

  “All cleaning duties should be finished by nineteen hundred hours,” Ted reminded her. He spoke as though he was reading her duties from a memorized manual. His voice had the toneless inflection of someone with a strong military heritage.

  “I know, but…”

  “By nineteen oh five all female staff should have reported to the changing rooms and be in full uniform, ready for inspection.”

  “I know but…”

  She wanted to tell him he was being sanctimonious. She wanted to remind him that the phrase “all female staff” referred only to her and her fellow usherette Jane—who was late again this evening. It was a small theater yet Ted made it sound like a platoon of usherettes was conscripted every night. She longed to say something that would usurp his pompous attitude. But she couldn’t bring herself to challenge his authority.

  “I know I should have…” she began.

  “It’s now nineteen oh five, Kay,” Ted broke in. “It’s nineteen oh five and you’re not in full uniform. Can you please tell me why you’ve broken the rules?”

  Kay couldn’t say a word.

  The truth was that she had been working hard, trying to make sure Ted’s theater was presentable for the evening customers when they arrived. Trying to please him with her attention to detail. Kay knew that she was supposed to be in uniform by this point. But she also knew she would never be able to explain as much to Ted. Nervousness and the thrill of being the object of his wrath kept her silent.

  “You’ve been disobedient again, haven’t you, Kay?”

  She finally turned to face him, nodding.

  “This is the third time you’ve broken the rules, isn’t it?”

  Again she responded with a single nod. Her gaze was lowered, her eyes fixed on the polished shine of Ted’s boots against the meticulous expanse of the theater carpet.

  “You’ve been working here a month and I haven’t yet reprimanded you, have I, Kay?”

  She shook her head. “No, Sir.”

  Ted sighed. The sound registered somewhere between frustration and smug satisfaction. “Go into the changing room,” he snapped. “Change into your uniform. Then wait in my office. I shall be along to reprimand you shortly.”

  Trembling, and adamant he wouldn’t see how he had affected her, Kay grabbed her cleaning things and rushed to do as he
had commanded. “Yes, Sir,” she whispered, hurrying past his side.

  He carried the musky fragrance of an Armani perfume.

  Expensive.

  Potent.

  Exciting.

  She noticed the scent as she brushed past his manly frame. And then she was running down the theater’s aisle and bustling to the backstage area allotted to the front of house staff.

  19:55

  Of course, he wasn’t going to spank her.

  She knew that wasn’t going to happen because spankings only happened in the books she read. And in those delicious dark fantasies that kept her awake at night as she plunged her fingers against the yielding flesh of her sex. Spanking happened quite a lot at those times. And it was always hard, merciless, punishing and fantastic. Sometimes it was being done with a paddle. Other times it was the spiky bristles of a hairbrush. From private (and sadly solitary) experiments she knew that both implements produced their own distinctive responses. But most times, when the fantasies were at their most powerful, Kay was being spanked by an open bare hand.

  Ted’s hand.

  She quivered against the leather stool in front of his desk. Her uniform of short skirt and stockings allowed the tops of her thighs to be kissed by the leather seat. It was warm against her skin and made her think of lovers nestling against her buttocks. If she hadn’t been wearing panties, she felt sure she would have left a small puddle of moisture in the center of the seat. Her heart pounded solidly and her breath came in long, asthmatic gasps.

  When the door behind her opened, Kay’s heartbeat quickened.

  Perspiration glistened on her brow.

  The heat between her thighs grew more ferocious.

  “Front of house opens at twenty hundred hours,” Ted announced.

  First she caught the scent of his Armani cologne.

  Then he stepped into view.

  Because she was sitting down, he seemed larger.

  Stronger.

  More potent and powerful than in her wildest and wettest fantasies. His jaw was strong and determined. His eyes were hard, unfathomable flints. He looked groomed and tailored to perfection and she didn’t think there had ever been a man she found more desirable and masterful.

  “I don’t have time to take care of your discipline now,” Ted said stiffly. “But I shall want to see you back here after the intermission.”

  He paused for a moment and she could almost see the calculations being made behind his frown. The doors opened at 20:00. Curtain up was scheduled for 20:30. This evening’s show, a heavily touted performance of some amateur musical, was meant to begin its intermission at 21:15. After a fifteen minute break the show would resume for its final half at 21:30.

  “I want you back here straight after the intermission. If you arrive any later than twenty-one thirty-five the punishment will be severe.”

  She swallowed and dragged her gaze up to meet his face. He hadn’t bothered sitting behind his desk.

  He simply stood by her side.

  Towering over her.

  Glowering down.

  “Punishment?”

  A cruel smile cracked his frown. “You’ve been a very naughty girl, Kay,” he muttered. “I need to show you what happens to very naughty girls under my command.”

  Her blush was hot enough to sear her cheeks. Deciding that she had been dismissed until their dreaded (desired) appointment at 21:35, Kay slid out of her chair and started for the door.

  “Before you go…”

  She paused with her hand on the doorknob. It was large, round and thick against her fingers. She only had to twist it once and she would open up his office and break the enchanting spell that came from being alone with Ted and his glorious disapproval. Sliding her fingers away, turning slowly to face him, she lowered her gaze again.

  “Yes, Sir?”

  “Before you go, I’d like your panties, please. You may leave them on my desk and then return to your duties.”

  “You want my…”

  He didn’t let her finish the question.

  “AY ESS AY PEE, Kay. The doors open in a moment and Jane can’t handle the entire theater on her own.”

  Despite his insistent tone, she hesitated.

  Clearly Jane had arrived (late again) but Kay didn’t bother processing that unimportant detail. She was still bowled over by the fact that Ted had demanded her panties. His casual instruction, so similar to those she had enjoyed in her lonely fantasy sessions, was enough to make her wonder if she had properly heard his words or only imagined them.

  “You want my panties?”

  “On the desk. Now.”

  Her hand trembled as she reached beneath the hem of her skirt. She awkwardly fumbled to find the waistband, and then tugged them until they started to come down. The crotch kissed a sticky farewell to her labia. And then she was treated to the sensation of the cool office air teasing her pussy lips. Blushing madly, deafened by the pounding of her heartbeat, she drew the panties down her thighs and let them fall to her ankles. Stepping daintily out of the white cotton knickers, she bent down and picked them up. Trying not to meet Ted’s gaze, she walked back to his desk and placed the panties in the center.

  “Thank you.” There was the faintest trace of a smile in his voice. “Now hurry along. And don’t be late for our twenty-one thirty-five.”

  20:35

  The minutes crept past in a torturous meandering rush.

  Kay greeted and seated the modest lines of sedately dressed patrons. She noticed Jane, on the opposite side of the auditorium, and wished they had a moment where they could chat. Jane wasn’t exactly a friend. But she had worked at the theater longer than Kay and would know more about Ted and his unexpected behavior. Kay wanted to know if the punishment he had planned for her was something he doled out to every member of staff. Or if he was making an exception for her because he could see she was aroused by his masterful authority.

  But brooding on the question didn’t help. Jane was too busy to talk. And, even if there had been an opportunity to exchange a few words, Kay couldn’t think of a way to tactfully broach the subject. Worse still: she was acutely conscious of the fact that she wasn’t wearing panties.

  The air in the theater had never before felt cold.

  Yet now it was an icy caress that constantly teased her sex.

  She suspected the heat of her arousal was causing a marked contrast. But dwelling on that notion only made her remember why she wasn’t wearing any panties. Similarly, each time she contemplated how Ted planned to punish her, Kay was almost crippled by the wet flood of anticipation. When the houselights finally dimmed she collapsed into one of the seats in the back row and pressed the heel of her hand against her groin.

  The desire to climax, and exorcise her body’s need for satisfaction, was strong. But she suspected that if Ted discovered her masturbating in the rear stalls, whatever punishment he had planned would be far more severe.

  That thought alone was enough to bring her close to the point of climax. Squirming against the velour seats, aware her bare buttocks were being stroked by the warm weave of the fabric, Kay closed her eyes and struggled to stave off the rush of satisfaction.

  21:35

  The opening of the show had sped past in a dull haze. Kay vaguely noted that the actors brought new meaning to the word amateur in the phrase amateur production. But her thoughts were preoccupied with more important matters than critical commentary. She went through the routine of selling ice cream and soft drinks in the intermission, aware that the clock was constantly creeping closer to her 21:35 appointment with Ted. Her bowels churned with a combination of dread and desire. The thrill of not knowing what would happen was as maddening as each of the potential scenarios she envisaged. Several times she found herself asking customers to repeat themselves as she realized her distracted thoughts had dominated her consciousness. And, all the time, she was thinking of what Ted would do to her once she was alone in his office. Eventually, as the clock neared 21:30, she decided
the ordeal was more than she wanted to suffer. When she got to his office she was going to tell him that he couldn’t treat his staff with sexual harassment of this magnitude. And, once the decision was made, she was determined to stand by it.

  “Twenty-one thirty-five,” Ted said, stepping into the room and pausing behind her.

  Kay heard the sound of the door closing.

  The twist of a key turning in the lock.

  The whisper of blinds being drawn.

  “I’m glad to see there are some circumstances where you can be punctual.”

  His words were enough to make her rethink her plans to accuse him of sexual harassment. As soon as he spoke she recanted her thoughts of refusing his commands. Whatever he wanted from her, however he wanted to proceed with her punishment, Kay was willing to suffer every arduous moment.

  “Stand up.”

  She stood.

  “Bend over the desk.”

  She bent.

  Her backside was raised high. The short hem of the skirt lifted as she leant forward. Without glancing back over her shoulder Kay knew that the secrets of her sex were already exposed to him. A shiver of delicious arousal sailed through her body. Because she had spent the last two hours in a state of borderline climax it was almost enough to make her shriek with orgasm.

  “You’ve been a very naughty girl, Kay. Haven’t you?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Fingers stroked against her bare buttocks.

  The torment was excruciating.

  Kay yearned to feel the hard slap of Ted’s strong hand against her rear. She was on the verge of begging for him to slam his palm swiftly against her cheek. The need was so strong she could almost hear the sound of bare flesh breaking sharp against bare flesh, feel the warm sting of one bruised cheek, savor the insidious warmth as it spread to her sex.

  His fingers continued to tease and appraise her backside. She was aware of his caresses shifting from the snug elastic at the tops of her stockings. Then trailing gently over her raised cheeks. Then sliding daringly close to the split of her sex.