Lolita Wolf's Predictions & Predilections

As a BDSM Sex Educator and Author, I don't just talk about it. I do it! And then I write about it.

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Please, Sir: Erotic Stories of Female Submission

May 28th, 2010 · 2 Comments

Please, Sir: Erotic Stories of Female Submission is the latest anthology edited by Rachel Kramer Bussel. RKB has become an expert at soliciting and choosing hot short stories. These all have a theme of female submission.

As part of the virtual book tour, here is my favorite excerpt that I chose from the book. From “Avery Says” by Sommer Marsden:

Thomas makes me wait one hour and fifty-one minutes before he leans in and says into my ear, “Get your nasty little ass in the car in the next fifteen minutes or it will be ten times worse than whatever you are imagining.” Under the guise of hugging me to him, he pulls me in and pinches me right ass cheek so hard that tears spring to my eyes and I choke on the air in my lungs. I nod so he knows that I understand and I say my hurried good-byes with a mixture of dread and anticipation twisting in my belly.

In the car, he says not a word. He lifts the skirt of my black dress, and checks. I am in the thigh-high hose and garters. I have on a small silken pair of black panties. He puts a finger inside the crotch and touches me just long enough to test me, to see how wet I am. He does not touch me to give me pleasure but to gauge my readiness, the way a mechanic would check the oil in a car: Detached. Professional. All business. I jump under his touch anyway, stealing as much pleasure from his fingertip as I possibly can.

“You know we start off with fifteen. Don’t give me a reason to up it, Avery. My hand won’t be light tonight. What you did doesn’t even deserve comment. You know that.”

I nod and now the tears are coming. What have I done? Why did I do it? What was I thinking? But under it all is the thumping in my cunt from where he has just touched me and the crawling anxiety that somehow makes it all feel so much better – more intense, sharper and brighter and more real.

“I know.”

We drive home in silence.

I shift in my seat, crossing and uncrossing my legs as the heater blows hot air across my knees. “Sit still,” he commands

So I do.

See the official Please, Sir website.

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