Yes, Ma'am

by Rachel Kramer Bussel

  “It does matter,” he said. “It matters to me.”

  “Why?” she asked, a pleading note in her voice. “Why does it matter what I did?”

  The more she avoided answering the question, the more he needed to know. “If you didn’t get fucked, what did you do?”

  He felt a little rush when he said “fucked,” and thought of Kendra writhing beneath some random stranger. Only, she said it wasn’t sex. That made him angry, too. Why put him through this torture if all she did was make out with some guy? Or was it a girl? He was angry at her vague infidelity and frustrated with her evasiveness, but he was also hard. Achingly hard.

  “I performed oral sex on him.” Her voice was flat, empty. “That’s it. Okay?”

  His cock jumped. “You sucked some guy’s dick and you say ‘that’s it’?”

  “You don’t have to be vulgar about it.”

  Oh, but he did. He needed to be vulgar and nasty, he needed to hear her say it, tell him what a whore she’d been. “Don’t act like you’re Little Miss Purity,” he said. He wore his anger like a cape of righteousness. “You’re just a little cocksucker.”

  “That’s enough, Richard,” she said. Her voice was stronger now, unwavering. “I think you like talking like that because it’s getting you hot to think about me giving another man oral sex.”

  It was his turn to hesitate. How did she know? Because she knew him too well, he admitted to himself. She knew what turned him on and the fact that she was so careful to phrase it in nongraphic language only frustrated him further. She wasn’t going to give him what he wanted, even though she knew what he wanted.

  “You like hearing about it, don’t you?” she asked, when he remained silent. “Don’t you, Richard?”

  He couldn’t help himself. She had turned the tables on him and, heaven help him, he was getting off on that, too. “Yes,” he whispered. “I do.”

  “That’s what I thought.” She didn’t sound angry, she sounded almost glad. “It didn’t mean anything, Richard. It was a one-time thing. It won’t happen again.”

  He felt…disappointment. He needed more. He needed so much more. “Tell me about it,” he said. “Tell me. Please.”

  “You really want to know? You really have to hear all the graphic details?” She sounded imperious, and he felt a little better. “You want to know what a little slut your girlfriend is?”

  “Yes.” He was practically panting and he knew she could hear it. He hoped she could, anyway. “Please.”

  “Take out your cock.”

  His dick twitched in his pants as if responding to her command. “Why?”

  “So you can imagine every dirty detail.”

  He didn’t argue. With trembling hands, he unfastened his pants and freed his rigid erection. He was so fucking hard, even his own touch was more arousing than usual. He resisted the urge to stroke himself. Not yet. Not just yet.

  “Are you hard?” She didn’t bother asking if he’d done what she demanded. “Is your cock hard for me?”

  “So fucking hard,” he said, through gritted teeth. “Bitch.”

  Kendra laughed softly. “You love it.”

  There was no point denying it.

  “Tell me,” he said.

  When she didn’t respond, he softened his tone.

  “Please, tell me. I need to know.”

  “It was an accident,” she began, “but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it.”

  He caught his breath. Did he really want to hear the blow-by-blow, as it were? He shook his head. He did.

  “He came over to look at my portfolio,” she said.

  “Yeah, right.”

  “Are you going to let me tell this? If not, I can let you go.”

  He sighed. “Sorry. Go ahead. He came to look at your portfolio.” And then he came in your mouth. He thought it, but he didn’t say it.

  “Yeah. He wanted to commission me to do some portraits.” She hesitated. “We had some wine; you know how I am after a long day.”

  “I know,” he said, encouraging her. He was impatient to get to the sex. The blow job. He wanted to hear about his girlfriend sucking off some guy. “You had some wine to relax.”

  “Uh-huh,” she said, sounding relieved that he understood. “He looked at my headshots first.”

  And then you gave him head.

  “Then he started thumbing through the nudes.”

  The image of some man sitting in her apartment, looking at naked pictures of her… He knew those pictures, knew them well. His cock twitched. Absently, he stretched out on the bed and stroked himself lightly, running the palm of his hand over the head, smearing the precome along his shaft. He couldn’t help himself, he groaned softly.

  “Are you touching yourself?”

  “Yes.”

  “Stop. Don’t touch yourself while I’m telling you about this,” she demanded.

  “Why not? Isn’t that why you’re telling me? Don’t you want to get me hot?”

  She laughed. “Yes, but you’re already hot. I don’t want you finishing too soon. I’ll tell you when you can jerk off.”

  Her tone was firm. He liked it. He liked it more than he liked touching himself at that moment, so he released his cock. Her way was better, anyway. The anticipation would make his orgasm so much harder.

  “So, he’s looking at my nudes and I notice he’s getting hard,” she said. “Hard like you are now. Hard from looking at me sprawled across your parents’ floor. Remember that day?”

  He remembered. He remembered her, all business, setting up her photographic equipment, stripping down, adjusting the settings, stretching out across the floor, spreading her legs, spreading her pussy… He remembered when she was finished, the two of them fucking on that hard floor, her on top, controlling everything, using the remote to take pictures. He groaned.

  “I guess you remember.” She sounded pleased.

  “Did you show him the ones of us?”

  “Of course not!”

  She sounded so offended at the suggestion, he couldn’t help but laugh. “So you do have some standards.”

  “Look who’s talking,” she taunted. “You’re hard as a rock, waiting to hear what happened next so you can jerk off to it.”

  “What happened next?” His throat was dry, but sweat beaded on his forehead. “Did he force himself on you?”

  “Not hardly. I was horny, Richard. I was hot and wet knowing he’d gotten hard looking at my pictures. I asked him if I could go down on him.”

  “You asked?” He hadn’t expected that. “You asked to suck him off?”

  “Yeah,” she whispered. “I practically begged for it.”

  He was breathing hard now, his cock feeling hot and heavy, aching to be stroked. “You begged.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Whore.”

  “Yeah.”

  He reached for his cock, but hesitated. Even now, even with the admission of the pleasure she’d taken from her infidelity still hanging in the air between them, he was hesitant to disobey. He wanted her approval.

  “I need to touch myself,” he confessed. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, as if he were the one who’d admitted some wrongdoing. “I’m so hard it hurts.”

  “Poor baby,” she said, and her voice was sympathetic. “You like that your girlfriend was a whore for some other man.”

  “Please,” he said. “I can’t take much more.”

  “Not yet.”

  He whimpered. It was the most pathetic sound he’d ever heard, but the sound escaped his lips before he could bite it back.

  “He unzipped his pants and I crawled between his legs,” she said. “Oh my God, Richard, he was so big and hard.”

  “Bigger than me?” He looked down at his erection, aching to be touched. “There’s no way he was harder.”

  “A little bigger than you,” she said. “I took the head in my mouth and just swirled my tongue around it, like I do you.”

  “I bet it made him crazy.”
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  She sighed, as if remembering the sensation. “It did. He twisted my hair in his hands and tried to get me to suck more, but I wouldn’t. I just kept sucking the head, tasting him.”

  He didn’t want to ask, but he had to. “Did he taste good?”

  “Oh, Richard, he tasted so fucking good. He pulled my hair just right, too. I was soaked through my jeans.”

  “You are such a little slut.”

  “Mmm, yes I am,” she said, as if he’d just complimented her. “I loved sucking his big, thick cock. I kept sliding a little farther down each time, taking more of him in my mouth. It was impossible to take it all, but I tried.”

  “Did you gag?” He hoped she’d gagged. He wanted to imagine her gagging and drooling on this stranger’s cock. “Did he force your head down until you couldn’t breathe?”

  “Oh yeah. I loved it,” she said. “I was such a little animal by then, I didn’t care.”

  “I bet.”

  “Richard?”

  He took a breath. “Yeah?”

  “You can jerk off now, on one condition.”

  “What?” He could practically hear her licking her lips.

  “You don’t come until I tell you to.”

  He wanted to say no. He wanted to tell her she couldn’t control him like that. He wanted to hang up and just finish himself off without having to listen to her self-satisfied chuckle. “Okay.”

  “Good. Where was I?”

  It took him a moment to respond. His hand felt so good wrapped around his engorged cock. He stared down at himself, at the head bulging up around his fist, red and angry, precome glistening on the tip. “You were gagging on his cock.”

  “Yeah, I was,” she said. “He was whispering my name, telling me how good it felt to be down my throat.”

  Richard groaned, stroking himself roughly, imaging it was his cock down Kendra’s throat. “How long did it last?”

  “Longer than you will,” she taunted. “It seemed to last forever. My jaw ached for two days. I couldn’t get enough of him. I wanted to suck him all night.” Just a few more strokes and he would come.

  “Are you close?”

  He grunted.

  “Mmm. He went completely still right before he came down my throat. You know how you men are.”

  He knew.

  “I hung on for dear life as he started spurting down my throat. I just kept swallowing and swallowing. His balls were so full.”

  “So are mine,” he said, between gritted teeth.

  She lowered her voice to a murmur. “I came while his cock was still spurting down my throat. I stuck my hand in my pants and played with my clit until I came.”

  She gasped and it was then he realized she was masturbating, too. The knowledge struck him like a blow and he moaned, his balls tightening up in response.

  “Richard, oh damn, I need to come,” she panted. “Ask me his name.”

  He felt light-headed, disoriented. His cock was so heavy, so ready. He was stroking furiously, right on the edge, but she hadn’t given him permission. “What?”

  “Ask me his name,” she repeated, slowly. “Ask me and then you can come.”

  That registered. He asked, but his throat was so dry it wasn’t audible. He licked his lips and tried again. “What was his name?”

  “George. It was George. I sucked him, Richard,” she gasped, trailing off to a moan. “Oh God, George. George!”

  His cock throbbed in his hand as spurt after spurt of semen shot up his belly, even as high as his chest. He groaned, the sensation was almost painful, but he kept jerking his cock. He imagined Kendra rubbing her cunt, getting off to the memory of some guy named George coming in her mouth.

  “It was George,” she moaned again, urgently, as if it held some significance. “Oh, Richard, it was George and it was so fucking good.”

  “You made me come,” he said. “I’m a mess.”

  She was still breathing hard. “That’s all you have to say?”

  “Yeah.” He kept touching his cock, but lightly. “I don’t care. I know I should, but I don’t.”

  “But it was George,” she said, again.

  He searched his emotions for some sign of jealousy. It had been there before and it might come back, but it was absent in the aftermath of his orgasm. As long as she could make him feel like this, she could fuck anyone she wanted.

  “I don’t care what you did, baby,” he said again. “I don’t even care who it was.”

  She paused for a long moment, with only the sound of her breathing on the line. “I want him again, Richard,” she whimpered. “I want him inside me next time. I want George to fuck me.”

  He only knew one George. His father.

  “I don’t care if you fuck him. I want you to fuck him,” he said, his cock already semihard. “Just tell me about it when you’re done.”

  “All the nasty details?”

  He rubbed his cock. “Yeah.”

  “Good boy,” she said. “Because he’s on his way over now.”

  ABOUT THE AUTHORS

  SYLVANE ALISTAIR has been active in the BDSM scene for a long time and finally decided to write about it.

  LEE ASH is a U.K. author who has published half a dozen erotic novels and novellas, and countless short stories, all firmly set within the punishing genre of BDSM. He writes principally for the U.K. imprint Silver Moon and has been a regular contributor to the website Darker Pleasures.

  L. E. BLAND has vast experience with fetishes, fantasies and submissives, both women and men. During her seven years as a pro Domme, she tried it all. Although her stories are fiction, each contains a grain—or two—of truth. Her stories have appeared in Hide & Seek (Cleis), Secret Slaves: Erotic Stories of Bondage (Alyson), Naughty Spanking Stories from A to Z 2 (Pretty Things Press), Best American Erotica 2006 (Fireside/Touchstone), and First-Timers: True Stories of Lesbian Awakening (Alyson). Learn more at www.lelisebland.com.

  CHRIS COOPER likes to use his X-rated imagination, but in real life he can’t resist a truly powerful woman. When not searching for the perfect Top, he loves bicycling, writing, and testing out new recipes.

  GEORGE CROSS is an English author who lives a life of 24/7 servitude beneath a dominant and extremely severe mistress. George writes fiction when his mistress permits him respite from either groveling at her feet or obeying her extensive list of demands, commands and instructions.

  ANDREA DALE’s stories have appeared in Got a Minute?, C Is for Coeds, Ultimate Lesbian Erotica 2007 and Fishnetmag.com, among others. With coauthors, she has sold novels to Cheek Books (A Little Night Music, writing as Sarah Dale) and Black Lace Books (Cat Scratch Fever, writing as Sophie Mouette). As a reenactor, she appreciates the eroticism of the slow unlacing of a corset. Visit her website at www.cyvarwydd.com.

  STEPHEN ELLIOTT is the author of six books, including the novel Happy Baby and the story collection My Girlfriend Comes to the City and Beats Me Up. www.stephenelliott.com.

  A. D. R. FORTE’s stories appear in Lips Like Sugar: Women’s Erotic Fantasies and Lust from Cleis Press. Her work is also featured in Black Lace’s Wicked Words collections.

  MICHAEL HEMMINGSON’s latest novels are The Las Vegas Quartet (Blue Moon) and The Yacht People (Neon Books). His erotic novel The Dress (Blue Moon, 2002) is being made into a movie by Ballen Films, and his first independent film, The Watermelon, is in postproduction from LightSong Films, soon to make the festival circuit. Hemlene Entertainment will release his second indie flick, Stations, in late 2008. Forthcoming titles include Understanding William T. Vollmann (University of South Carolina Press), Star Trek: TV Milestones Series (Wayne State University Press) and The Cult of Excellence (Ace Books), a quasi-erotic novel about giant monsters, alien invaders and multidimensional time-traveling children.

  DEBRA HYDE believes that the way to a man’s brain is through his cock and, like the madam in her story, she has done a fair bit of cock training herself. Her short erotic fiction appears in numerous anthologies, most recently
Got a Minute?, Lust: Erotic Fantasies by Women, Hard Road, Easy Riding: Lesbian Biker Erotica, and the notable She’s on Top/He’s on Top collections. Her erotic novel, Inequities, was published by the Neon Books imprint in late 2007. She writes the long-running web-log, Pursed Lips, and creates the occasional podcast, Pursed Lips, Speaking. Google those, won’t you?

  D. L. KING’s short smut has appeared in several print and online publications and venues such as The Erotica Readers and Writers Association, The Dominant’s View, Boss Lady, Who’s Your Daddy and Eternal Bonds. As for long smut, D. L. King’s first novel, The Melinoe Project, was recently published. Please visit the author’s website at www.dlkingerotica.com.

  ALEX MENDRA is a writer whose plays have been produced both in Europe and in the United States. He was first runner-up in the Jim Highsmith Playwright Competition and a semifinalist in the Julie Harris Playwright Competition. His poetry has been published in Shampoo Poetry and In Other Words. His short stories have appeared in Naughty Stories from A to Z Volume II

  (Pretty Things Press), Velvet Heat (PTP), Merry XXXmas Book of Erotica (Cleis), and Best Bondage Erotica (Cleis). Alex has aired several radio essays on the NPR affiliate station KQED-FM.

  TERESA NOELLE ROBERTS’ erotica has appeared or is forthcoming in He’s on Top, She’s on Top, B Is for Bondage, E Is for Exotic, F Is for Fetish, H Is for Hardcore, Chocolate Flava 2, Best Women’s Erotica 2004, 2005, and 2007, and many other publications. She is also half of the erotica-writing team called Sophie Mouette, author of Cat Scratch Fever (Black Lace Books, 2006) and numerous short stories.

  DOMINIC SANTI is a former technical editor turned rogue whose stories have appeared in many dozens of anthologies and magazines, including the recent Caught Looking, Cowboys, His Underwear, Bi Guys, Secret Slaves and Country Boys. Santi’s latest book is the German collection Buddy Action (Bruno Gmunder, 2007). Future plans include more dirty short stories and an even dirtier historical novel so find out more at dominicsanti@yahoo.com.