Yes, Ma'am

by Rachel Kramer Bussel

  Lower, still lower he imagined moving, over her smooth flat belly, and slowly down between her legs with his hands and mouth, even lower until he plunged into the mind-altering canyon between her legs.

  “Ffffuuuucckkkk!” Keith groaned as he came, splattering his stomach and chest with jizz. His body shuddered with pleasure as his orgasm crashed through him like a wave upon the sand. He jerked himself a few more times, squeezing even more juice out of his aching balls. Finally he let go of himself and let his hand fall to the sheets. Without even wiping himself off, he fell asleep right then and there, and dreamed blissfully all night of her.

  Several days after Keith had sent his reply to Mistress Joanna, a small package arrived in the mail for him. Recognizing the return address, he opened it excitedly. However, when he saw what was inside the smile left his face. He read the enclosed note and then sat down to think long and hard.

  The restaurant was five star, one of the city’s best. Keith knew the place; he had taken business associates there before. He wondered briefly if he would see anyone he knew, then banished the thought as unimportant. He didn’t care if anyone recognized him, or the person he would be dining with.

  He suddenly broke out into a cold sweat. His insides tightened and his cock stirred with need. He was about to have his first face-to-face meeting with Mistress Joanna. The thought was as terrifying as it was arousing.

  “Sir?” the maitre d’ said.

  “What?” Keith said distractedly.

  “Please follow me, your party is waiting.”

  “Oh, sorry.”

  He followed the man through the crowded restaurant, practically holding his breath for his first sight of her. Then, there she was! His breath drained out of him and he stared in shock.

  She wasn’t alone.

  Not only was Mistress Joanna there, dressed exquisitely in a lush green ensemble surely purchased in Milan, her red hair silky and shining, but two other women who sat with her. All three of them looked up at him expectantly. The maitre d’ pulled the fourth, empty chair out for him.

  “Enjoy your meal, ladies, sir,” the maitre d’ said, leaving Keith standing, staring like an idiot.

  “My friends,” Joanna said, and Keith’s dick pronged out at the sound of her voice. As many different ways as he’d imagined it, actually hearing her speak was infinitely better. He tried to hide his erection, painfully visible through his slacks, with his hands. “This is Mr. Keith Trenton. Mr. Trenton and I are negotiating a possible collaboration.” She gestured at the woman on her right, a pixieish blonde with a mischievous smile.

  “This is Diana Porter.”

  The blonde held out her hand and Keith shook it like an automaton. Her skin was soft, but beneath it he felt a grip of iron. The juxtaposition was troubling, yet intriguing.

  “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Trenton,” Diana said. Keith nodded stupidly as Joanna indicated the woman on her left, a raven-haired Amazonian beauty even taller than she was.

  “And this is Morgana Kallman.” Morgana gave Keith an appraising look, then nodded at him. There was something predatory in the way she looked at him, and it made him both uncomfortable and horny.

  “You have a lot to live up to, Mr. Trenton,” she said. “Joanna only works with people who are the best at what they do.”

  Suddenly Keith remembered who he was. He counted six Fortune 500 companies on his client list, for God’s sake, and here he was getting flustered at the sight of three women?

  “I’ll do my best to live up to her expectations, Ms. Kallman,” he said, wondering who he was kidding. Between them, of course, was Mistress Joanna herself in all her glory, so beautiful, so powerful.

  She stood up, gorgeous, breathtaking, poised and elegant.

  “My name is Joanna Persephone,” she said.

  “I…” Keith couldn’t finish. He had known she was a formidable woman, but nothing had prepared him for the effect that being this close to her would actually have on him. He wondered how old she was—early thirties like him, or older? Younger?

  “Sit down, Mr. Trenton,” she said.

  “Yes, Ma’am,” he said instinctively, and obeyed her, then shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

  “Diana and Morgana are in the same line of work as myself,” she explained, “so they can appreciate what we’re doing here. I value their opinions highly.”

  Great, thought Keith. I’m being evaluated not just by one beautiful and intelligent woman, but three.

  “Do you have much experience in our field, Mr. Trenton?” Morgana asked. Keith looked at her and tried not to be distracted by her ample breasts, which were hardly concealed by her low-cut blouse.

  “Only a little,” he said, “but everyone says Mistr…Ms. Persephone is the best there is, so I came to her.”

  “You’ve done your research,” Morgana said, almost grudgingly. “That’s impressive.”

  “You flatter me,” Joanna said, and Keith found himself staring at her slender neck and the way her red hair fell around it. “I believe the other women at this table are equally expert at what they do.”

  Keith felt like he was in a sexual haze, what with the three women paying rapt attention to him—it was almost enough to ease the surprise and discomfort he was also feeling.

  Until they placed their orders.

  When Morgana requested shark fin soup, Diana waited until the waiter left to say, “Shark fin? I’m terrified of sharks. I don’t even like to swim in a pool, my phobia is so strong.”

  “I can understand that,” Morgana said. “Fears are very strange. Your fears can rule you, or you can rule them.”

  “Sometimes you must face your fear,” Joanna said, looking at Keith. “Allow yourself to feel it, and then move past it.”

  “Can you give me an example, Joanna?” Diana said. “I’m certainly not going swimming at the Farallon Islands, if that’s what you mean.”

  “No, I mean facing a fear where there is no real danger, only danger in your mind. In your example, you could face your fear by swimming in a pool. It would be difficult, but there would be no actual danger to you.”

  “I think I understand.” Diana said.

  “Now Mr. Trenton’s greatest fear is embarrassment,” Joanna said, and Keith felt like he had just been pushed out of an airplane. “So he would definitely not want you to know that he has a four-inch penis-shaped butt plug in his ass right now.”

  His mouth dropped open and his face burned with humiliation. Yet his cock, already aroused in the presence of the women, suddenly shot to attention with full hardness. Morgana and Diana tried to hide their giggles, but he could clearly see their amusement at his expense.

  Looking back on it later, Keith realized that despite his discomfort, both physical and mental, he never actually thought about leaving the table. If this was what Joanna wanted, this was what she would get. He knew he had to trust her. He had heard too many great things about her to believe she was doing this for mere sadism.

  She must have had a reason, and he trusted her.

  The haze he was in got even thicker, and his vision wavered like air above hot asphalt. When their meals arrived, the four of them ate, the three women talking vaguely about their current projects, sometimes engaging Keith in the conversation. Through it all, Joanna watched him, smiling.

  He sleepwalked through the rest of the meal, both appalled and enthralled with Mistress Joanna. When it was over and he had returned home, Keith removed the butt plug from his ass, grimacing as it slurped its way out. Strangely, he found himself feeling somehow empty with it gone.

  In his jacket pocket he found a note, written in Joanna’s distinctive hand.

  Mr. Trenton:

  If you would like to proceed, come to the address below at 9:00 this evening. You’re ready for some one-on-one time. Do NOT touch your cock unless urinating.

  Mistress Joanna

  He didn’t know how she had gotten it into his pocket without him noticing, but Keith realized that questioning Jo
anna and her methods would be a futile exercise. He decided to simply follow her directions.

  The house he had been summoned to was large, not quite a mansion, but certainly impressive. It was high in the hills above the city, in a wealthy neighborhood with quiet streets and eighty-thousand-dollar cars in the driveways. After Keith had parked his car, he followed the walkway up to the front door.

  Stopping for a second, he took a deep breath. This is what it had all been leading to, wasn’t it? This was the encounter he had been working toward. Just the Mistress and himself.

  He hadn’t even seen her yet and his cock was already swollen and sore in his pants. He had wanted to jerk off so badly after lunch, but her instructions were clear—he hadn’t touched himself except to aim when he pissed. He felt strange, almost like a different person. She had confronted him with something he was afraid of, and he had come through it okay.

  Better than okay.

  It had made him fucking horny! All the tension, confusion and titillation he had experienced during the meal had combined into his groin, with his dick now aching for release.

  Calm down, he told himself. Just do what she says and it’ll be okay.

  He rang the bell, and a moment later, the door was opened.

  A large man, a bodybuilder by the look of him, stood in the doorway and regarded Keith with an expectant smile. The man was shirtless, wearing an elaborate leather harness that made his already impressive chest even more imposing. He was wearing shiny black shorts that were made of rubber or latex and his sizable cock was clearly visible through them. His feet were bare.

  “Mr. Trenton?” the bodybuilder asked.

  “Uh, yeah,” Keith said, hating the stupid look of surprise he knew was on his face.

  “Good evening, the Mistress is expecting you. Please come in.” He stepped back to give Keith room to enter. Keith stepped into the house and the man closed the door behind him. “My name is Bruno,” the bodybuilder said. “Please follow me.”

  Keith did what he was told and walked behind Bruno through the expansive entryway. Cool grays, blacks and creams were the color themes, and the floors were covered with expensive tile. The ceilings were high and the walls were decorated with framed black-and-white photographs of nude men. The bodybuilder led Keith up a long flight of stairs, and Keith had a chance to look more closely at some of the pictures. The men had been photographed when they were in the throes of passion—their bodies tense, their muscles flexed, their dicks large, with low-hanging balls.

  Is that what I have to live up to? Keith thought. I may be good looking with a decent body, but I can’t compete with these guys!

  “Mistress Joanna is a brilliant artist, isn’t she?” Bruno said when they’d reached the top of the stairs.

  “She took these pictures?” Keith asked.

  “She did,” Bruno confirmed. “This is where I leave you. Follow the hallway down to the end, take a left and open the first door on the right.”

  “Okay,” Keith said, as Bruno turned and headed back down the stairs. “Thank you!” Keith said after him.

  “Good luck, Mr. Trenton,” the bodybuilder said without looking back. Keith faced the hallway. His cock, which had wilted in the presence of Bruno, suddenly came back to attention. Anticipation and a little fear filled him as he followed the instructions he’d been given and found himself opening the specified door.

  The room seemed to be nearly empty, with a chair in the middle and dim red lights set close to the floor. On the floor in front of the chair was a small cushioned mat.

  In the chair sat a woman.

  “Mistress Joanna?” Keith asked breathlessly.

  “Yes, Mr. Trenton,” she said. “Come in and shut the door behind you.” He obeyed, and found himself alone, at last, with the object of his desire. She was shadowed in darkness, but he knew it was her. The voice was distinctive.

  “Remove your clothing,” Joanna said.

  “Yes, Mistress,” he said.

  “From now on you will address me as Ma’am,” she said, watching him undress. “Only submissives I have agreed to train have the privilege of calling me Mistress.”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” Keith said, dropping the last of his clothes to the floor before standing naked in front of her. He could feel her eyes roving up and down his gym-toned body, evaluating him. He felt like a piece of merchandise being appraised by a prospective buyer, and he found it fucking hot. She gestured at his erect cock, which seemed to be straining toward her as if of its own volition.

  “I’m happy you came,” she said. “I didn’t know if, after our lunch, you would still be interested in pursuing this.”

  “It wasn’t what I expected, Ma’am, but I trusted you. Do trust you. Now. I trust you now.”

  “Indeed.”

  Shut up, idiot! he told himself. You’re fumbling around like a teenager on his first date.

  “Who’s Bruno?” he asked before he could stop himself. She laughed softly, and it was a wonderful sound to hear.

  “Bruno is my assistant,” she answered. Keith gave a visible sigh of relief.

  “Were you afraid he was my husband, or my lover?” she asked.

  “I guess so,” Keith said.

  “Listen closely, Mr. Trenton,” she said, leaning forward in her chair. “What I do, and how I conduct myself outside of our time together is of no consequence to you. There is no place for jealousy or envy here. All your attention should be focused on serving me and performing to the best of your ability. After tonight, I will answer your question.”

  “My question?”

  “You asked if I would train you as my submissive.”

  “But…”

  “Surely you didn’t think my decision had been made already, just based on our lunch today? Get on your knees on the mat and read what is written on the piece of paper on the floor in front of it.”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” he said, stepping up to the mat and dropping down onto his knees. He hadn’t noticed the piece of paper on the floor before, but there it was. Mistress Joanna continued speaking.

  “If the statement on the paper is true, then read it again, out loud. If it isn’t, then you may put your clothing back on and leave this house.”

  Keith squinted in the dim light to read the inscription on the paper. Then he took a deep breath, let it all out, and read it aloud, his voice quavering.

  “I am here to learn. I am here because I need to serve a superior female. I am here because I desire to be trained to perform to the best of my ability in this endeavor. I place myself in the hands of the woman who shares this room with me now. I pledge to trust her, serve her and obey her.”

  “Clasp your hands behind your back and keep your eyes on the floor,” Joanna said.

  “Yes, Ma’am,” Keith said, putting the piece of paper down and obeying. The woman rose to her feet and stepped out of the shadows into the dim red light. Keith wanted to look up at her, but his instructions were clear: he must keep his eyes down. Her high heels clicked on the wooden floor as she walked around him in a circle.

  Something was making a swishing noise, a sound he didn’t think he’d ever heard before. The noise was punctuated by a slapping sound. The strange and intriguing noises continued as she circled him like a shark that had sighted prey.

  “The dynamic between Dominant and submissive,” Mistress Joanna said, “is frequently described as a game. I myself find that description crude. I believe that what we do is in fact a dance—a stylized set of complementary movements.”

  Keith found her voice and inflections intoxicating, and he felt like he was being hypnotized by it and the other sounds.

  “Although one partner is in control of the other, both partners are equally important to the dance, equally required for the dance to be realized.” She stopped her relentless circling and stood in front of him, her legs spread. The source of the noise was now visible to him.

  It was a leather flogger, its many black tails rustling together to make the swishing
sound as she gently waved it at her side. Keith realized that the other sound must have been Mistress Joanna slapping the flogger against her bare leg.

  He found himself dying to know how far that nakedness continued up her body. Was she wearing a miniskirt, a thong, a G-string? Was she—his cock flexed at the mere thought—naked? But his thoughts were banished by pure sensation when she moved the flogger forward so it was hanging directly in front of him, its tails surrounding his hard dick. She moved it slightly, and the strips of leather played across his shaft. Keith closed his eyes.

  He found it difficult not to move, what with a goddess standing in front of him and the flogger she was holding hanging on to his cock.

  “Mr. Trenton,” Mistress Joanna said.

  “Yes, Ma’am?” he said, startled.

  “What is more important to you, obeying me or satisfying your body’s desires?”

  “I desire to serve you, Ma’am, so obeying you is its own reward,” he said. So fast that he hardly knew what was happening, she raised the flogger and brought it smashing down on his back and shoulders. Keith couldn’t stop the cry of pain and surprise from escaping his lips, and his skin flushed red with embarrassment.

  “Communication and honesty are the most important parts of the dance, Mr. Trenton,” she said, resuming her circling around him like a prowling jungle cat. “Your answer to my question, however poetic, was calculated. You said what you thought I wanted to hear, rather than the true answer. That will not do. I always want to know what your truth is, even if it’s something you don’t think I’ll like.”

  She stopped directly behind him, and he could swear he felt the heat of her sex on his shoulder blades.

  “Look up,” Mistress Joanna said. He obeyed and saw the empty chair she had been sitting in. “Now we’ll try again. In a contest between your desire and your obedience, which would win?”