Yes, Sir

by Rachel Kramer Bussel

  We waited, the three of us, not moving. Just the lazy switch of the filly’s tail, the tilt of her head as she watched him. I knew how she felt; should she do what she could get away with? Or should she continue to obey his spoken command? If she was anything like her mama, I doubted even Bobby could tame her completely.

  Just as the filly lifted her front hoof off the ground, barely an inch, just to test the waters, Bobby turned around. Before I think she even realized she was going to disobey his command, Bobby was at her head, praising her. I watched as he pulled half a carrot from his pocket and let her lip it off his palm.

  “Follow,” he said, and damned if that filly didn’t prick up her ears at his voice, and then follow him like she’d been a pack-horse for twenty years.

  “Well-behaved filly you’ve got there, ma’am,” he said as he went by. He looked me up and down as he passed. One side of his grin was higher than the other. It turned his face from thoughtfully rugged to mischievous. It said “follow” without saying anything at all. It made me wish I had ears to prick up.

  I watched the two of them walk away, the filly’s curvy rear end and his muscular one. Damn. Maybe this summer wouldn’t turn out to be so bad after all.

  I gave Bobby time to get the filly cooled and settled in her stall before I went and found him.

  He was in the tack room, smoothing saddle soap on a bridle. I leaned against the doorjamb and took in his smooth bare chest, the biceps that bobbed as he worked the leather. I had dreams of him cross-tying me like a wild mare, of pressing that leather to my skin.

  “You must be the lady of the barn,” he said without looking up.

  I liked that, that he either didn’t assume I was the lady of the house, or that he knew something about me.

  “I must be,” I said.

  “Saw you riding the barrels in Sisters last year,” he said.

  “Yeah, what’d you think?”

  He looked up, crooked grin a little higher. “Thought you could have given up some control, trust your mare a little more. She would have gone faster ’round that second barrel.”

  I didn’t say anything. I’d finished second in that run, just behind the top rider in the state.

  He hung the bridle up and wiped his hands on a rag.

  “And I think you’re not standing there just to ask me what I think about your riding.”

  I cocked my head. “Really? Why am I standing here?”

  With his easy stride, he was at my head in a second. He put the flat of his hand against my cheek.

  “Because you’ve been running wild all summer long, and you need someone to put some reins on you and put you in check.”

  I tried to think, but his hand moved down, grasped the back of my head and held me in place.

  “Who told you that?” I asked, once I could think again.

  “Your husband,” he said.

  I laughed. “Right.” Like he cared.

  Bobby moved my head forward until his lips pressed against mine. He didn’t kiss me; he talked to me, moving his lips so I could feel every word like some kind of Braille.

  “He didn’t hire me to break your horses,” Bobby said. “He hired me to break you. I’ve been waiting all week for you to get your ass out of bed and show up.”

  I didn’t believe him, but it didn’t matter. His hands had captured the back of my head and his lips had captured the front. His tongue worked its way into my mouth, as persistent and hard as a bit. I welcomed it, the way it felt against my teeth, the flavor of him, slightly metallic, laced with dried hay and tobacco. As his tongue worked, so did his hands, pulling me against him. The hard bulge of his cock pressed into the hot spot in my jeans. I aimed my hips, got the length of it pressed to just the right spot. I wanted to ride him, to feel his muscles move beneath me. I reached for him, to put my hands on his hips and pull him even closer, but he caught my wrists with one hand.

  He pulled one of the leather whips off a hook and I thought—hoped—he might bind my wrists with it. But he just held it, the way he’d held the whip when he was working with the filly.

  “Now,” he said. “Let’s try that again. Turn around. Hands against the wall.”

  Without the lead, he’d been powerful. With that piece of leather in his hand, it moved him beyond power somehow. There was nothing to do but obey. I turned and pressed my palms to the rough wood.

  He kicked my legs apart. Then he reached around and unsnapped my jeans with one hand. His chest pressed against my back, and I could smell the leather and oil that came off his skin. His fingers worked inside my panties, opened my lips.

  “See?” he said as his fingers worked. “You’re so wet. You already know how to obey, don’t you? You’ve just forgotten?”

  I couldn’t answer. All I could do was feel his fingers on me, in me. My head rolled back to rest against him. Ah, God. How long had it been?

  I was so close, so close. I wanted… I moved my hips to press harder against his fingers.

  The snap of the leather stung a little, but that pain was nothing compared to the way he took his hand out of my underwear and wiped his fingers on my jeans. My clit throbbed, aching to be finished. My hard breathing was the only sound in the room.

  Still behind me, Bobby took my hands off the wall and pulled my arms behind me. He wrapped the leather around my wrists, and then looped it around my waist. It was like being calf-roped standing up. I’d wanted it earlier, but now I wanted just to stroke myself, to feel the relief of finally coming.

  “I didn’t want to tie you,” Bobby said in my ear. His voice gave me shivers. “But I don’t want you using those hands to get yourself off,” he said, as though he could read my mind.

  He turned me around to face him.

  “Follow,” he said.

  Something in me resisted, but the power of his voice, the way he walked away from me as though he knew I would trail after him, made it so I couldn’t say no. I followed him out into the barn, followed him down the cement walkway, the horses watching from their stalls. He stopped at a clean, empty stall at the end. The Dutch door was closed at the top half and open at the bottom.

  Bobby gestured at the door.

  He didn’t really expect me to bow through that, did he? His look told me that he did. Shit. My jeans were still undone, and I wasn’t sure what my balance would be like. Still, I wanted it. That was the truth of it. I wanted someone to tell me how to behave. Wanted someone to tell me to crawl. Still, I couldn’t do it.

  “Please,” I said.

  Bobby stepped up to me. I couldn’t do anything but watch as he pulled the two halves of my shirt apart. Good thing it was old, and the buttonholes were loose, or he would have ripped the buttons off. As it was, the buttons slid right out of their trappings. Bobby didn’t even look at the lacy bra I’d put on, he merely popped the front open with two fingers to expose my breasts.

  “I always thought we put too many trappings on,” he said as his fingers pinched the tender ends of my nipples. “Horses and women.”

  My clit might have been sleeping, waiting, but when he touched me, it woke back up. Howled at me, even.

  Bobby pulled my nipples downward. Pain and pleasure exploded in my chest. I twisted my shoulders, trying to get out, to lessen the pain, but with my hands tied, it was impossible. I was making small mews, like a lost animal.

  He didn’t stop. He tugged my nipples toward the cement floor until my body had no choice but to follow, until I was on my knees, just like he’d wanted me in the first place.

  Even then, it wasn’t good enough. He clucked his tongue. “I would have thought you’d be faster,” he said. “But maybe you’ve been running wild too long. Now follow.”

  My nipples stretched as he pulled me toward the stall. The burn slid down from my chest, became a fire that ignited between my legs. I moved forward on my knees, following Bobby, following my own desire. I barely felt my knees against the cement. My clit took precedence over everything, begging to be touched.

 
; He bent forward, giving my nipples a second of relief, and then he slid under the door into the stall. I followed as fast as I could, held up only by Bobby’s fingers on my nipples and my own need. Once I got into the stall, Bobby let go of me. My nipples throbbed with pain when the cold air hit them. My teeth chattered. I’d never wanted to be fucked, to be ridden, so badly in my life.

  “Please,” I begged.

  Bobby gave me that lopsided grin again.

  “Please, what?”

  “Please…” My teeth wouldn’t stop knocking together. “Please fuck me. I want to come.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so,” Bobby said. “You’re nowhere near ready for that. You need to learn the basics first.”

  Bobby ran his fingers, feather soft, across my chest, against the hot pink skin of my nipples. I shivered. Somewhere else in the barn, a horse whinnied. Then another. A second later, I heard Ken’s tires against the gravel drive.

  I opened my eyes wide at Bobby, but I couldn’t speak.

  He put his hand to my face. The touch was as gentle this time as it had been hard before.

  “I told you earlier,” he said. “Your husband didn’t hire me for the horses.”

  He turned his back on me and moved away. When he got to the stall door, he stopped, but didn’t look back.

  “Stay,” he said.

  I closed my eyes and shook my head. But I stayed. I stayed.

  PINK IS THE ENEMY

  Jocelyn Bringas

  Take off your skirt.”

  My fingers immediately obeyed his request and tugged the material down to the floor. I was now one thong away from being completely naked as I stood with my back facing Duke.

  “What the fuck?”

  I heard him get up from his chair and stomp his way to me. My heart was racing. He never got up from his chair unless something was terribly wrong. I gasped when his hands viciously grabbed my asscheeks and spread them far apart.

  “Why are you wearing a pink thong?”

  Crap! I had forgotten to change my underwear before coming to his home. My boss had kept me late at work and by the time I was on the freeway, there was no time to go to my apartment for an underwear change. Duke always wanted me to be at his home on time. If I was even just one second late he wouldn’t bother answering the door.

  My heart felt heavy knowing I had disappointed him. I had always been so good about changing my underwear. I aimed to please him and breaking my streak made me feel really bad.

  He walked away, leaving me standing there frozen. I didn’t want to move an inch. Last time I moved to look for him I was put in detention. His form of detention was no touching and no fucking for two days. Not having his cock for forty-eight hours had been pure torture and I didn’t want to risk experiencing that again.

  I wondered if he was going to punish me for my mistake. I did deserve to be punished. Maybe this little error would work out in my favor? My mind raced with all the different possibilities. Was he searching his home for a new toy to use?

  It couldn’t be the riding crop; he’d used that last night. He never used the same toy twice in a row. Perhaps it was the rabbit vibrator? He loved to fuck my pussy while he jammed it up my ass.

  I glanced over at the ticking antique grandfather clock standing against the wall. He loved collecting different types of clocks. It was exactly eleven p.m. I thought he’d only be gone for five minutes at the most.

  At two minutes past twelve, I heard the familiar stomping of his footsteps on the stairs. He pressed his cool body against my back. My whole body shivered from the sudden skin to skin contact. His stiff cock was comfortably nestled in the crack of my ass. I started to breathe heavier when a cold object slid up the side of my right thigh. I assumed it was a new toy but I heard a snip.

  With my peripheral vision, I looked down and saw he was holding a pair of shiny silver scissors. He had cut the fabric to one side of my pink thong and now he did the same to the other. A loud clank echoed off the walls as he tossed the scissors onto the wood floor. The thong was still hanging off me, my closed legs keeping it from falling. Slowly, he pulled the thong away from my body, causing it to rub against my aching pussy.

  “Turn around.”

  With the tips of his fingers, he held on to the pink thong like it was a piece of filthy trash.

  “You know I hate the color pink. Pink clothing is for incompetent little girls. I’ve told you repeatedly to never wear it.”

  Pink was such a wonderful color. I wished he’d understand that but I knew he wouldn’t. I flinched when he suddenly squished my thong into a ball.

  “Open wide.”

  Once I opened my mouth, he stuffed the thong inside. My mouth instantly watered upon tasting my pussy juice. He walked back to his chair and sat down. His hard cock looked so delicious resting against his stomach.

  Whenever he was sitting on his chair, he always looked like a king on his throne. I felt like a servant girl awaiting his next command.

  “You really love to wear pink, don’t you?”

  I nodded my head up and down. He rolled his eyes at my response.

  “The only pink you can wear is the pinkness from me spanking you.”

  With his finger, he beckoned me to approach him. He reached underneath his chair and retrieved a wooden spanking paddle. Despite my expressionless face, I was smiling inside. The wooden spanking paddle was one of my favorite toys.

  “Turn around and stick your ass high up in the air.”

  I immediately assumed the position, my pussy already tingling with anticipation. The first strike had enough power to trigger an earthquake in California. Each strike he made got progressively harder and came faster. My clit was pulsating madly, itching to be rubbed.

  When he was done, he threw the paddle onto the floor. There was a brief silence and I eagerly awaited his next move. The click of a Polaroid camera broke the silence. He wasn’t into digital cameras because he found them to be such a hassle. I heard him shake the picture dry.

  “Come here and sit on my lap.”

  My ass was on fire and once it touched his cold skin, I winced. He showed me the picture and I was amazed at how pink my ass looked. That kind of pink was way better than the pink thong.

  “Spit the thong out.”

  The wet thong landed on the floor. It looked like the life had been sucked away from it.

  “If I ever see you wear any pink again, you will regret it and you may have to live without my cock for some time. Understand that?”

  I gulped. We’d been fucking for over two years and the thought of living without his delicious cock frightened me. I nodded my head in agreement. His hands gripped my hot pink ass and he pulled me down so that I was sitting on his cock. Reaching around me, he spread my pussy lips apart and jammed his cock inside.

  Relaxing against his chest, I enjoyed the ride.

  When I arrived at my apartment the next day, I didn’t waste any time. I immediately plucked every single piece of pink clothing and underwear I had out of my bedroom. I learned my lesson about the color pink. It was a beautiful color but I could live without it. Duke was much more important to me than a silly color.

  All the pink clothing I had went into a garbage bag and I drove to the nearest Goodwill donation station. Not only was I doing a favor for Duke, I was also helping the less fortunate people.

  Living without Duke in my life just seemed so unbearable—I would die without him. My heart grew heavy as the image of his disappointed look flashed in my mind. I never wanted to see him look at me like that again.

  This outing also gave me an opportunity to do some shopping. I stopped by Pleasure Palace, a local lingerie shop, and bought fifteen black thongs to replace the fifteen pink thongs that were now gone.

  While I was in the shop, I decided to peruse the different clothing. There was a gorgeous black corset calling my name. I tried it on and adored the way it hugged my curves.

  I couldn’t wait to show it off to Duke and see his reaction.
<
br />   “You look so fucking good.”

  My cheeks grew warm at his compliment. He was sitting on his chair slowly stroking his cock as he examined me with his eyes. I felt proud of myself for picking a good enough outfit for him. I was wearing my new corset, a red miniskirt, and a black thong.

  “Lie down on the floor and spread your legs.”

  I shivered the moment the cold floor hit my back. My skirt hiked up above my hips as my legs split apart. From his chair, he leaned forward, picked up my right foot and held it up high in the air.

  “No pink thong. Good job.”

  Duke smiled, and seeing his positive reaction made me feel fuzzy in my stomach. He pressed his lips to my toes and it took all my strength to keep from giggling. He didn’t like it when I giggled because he thought only immature teenage girls did that. I sighed contentedly when his tongue traced along them.

  He looked absolutely handsome sucking on my toes. I loved the way his soft blond hair fell into his eyes. All of my toes now were stuffed into his mouth as his tongue devoured them. The whole time his eyes were looking into mine.

  His lips then traveled to the side of my ankle where there were some tattoos he had instructed me to get a few months ago. They were Chinese symbols for devotion and dedication. He chose those two words because he wanted a constant reminder that I was completely devoted and dedicated to him. When he was finished, he let go of my foot.

  “People who are good get rewards, right?”

  I nodded in agreement. He took his cock in his hand and began stroking it nonchalantly. My mouth watered as my eyes stared at his movements. With his free hand, he pointed to his hard cock and I moved to kneel before him.

  The wet tip of his cock looked shiny from the light. He trailed it along my forehead and then down the side of my cheek. Once he reached my mouth, it was already open and ready for business. I sucked him as if his cock was my only source of life.

  I took a deep breath through my nose, trying not to gag as he grabbed my head and began shoving himself into my mouth. Glancing upward, I saw that he had his head thrown back in pleasure as he rocked his hips back and forth.