A little teaser to pique your interest in Yes, Ma’am – well, more than the cover and introduction have. From my story – you’ll have to wait for the book for the rest!
by Rachel Kramer Bussel
The day of my interview with one of the top law firms in New York City, I’m sweating through my brand-new designer suit, desperately mopping at my brow as I try to look composed. I’m fresh out of Rutgers, making my way through round after round of Manhattan office buildings, steep high-rises filled with bankers, lawyers, editors, and businessmen. Being a male applying for a job as an administrative assistant in the year 2007 is no easy task, let me tell you. Sure, we’ve said that we’re all about equal opportunity, but to the minds of most bosses, the job is still that of a secretary, and she should be wearing a suit, heels and pearls. I’ve done plenty of temp work, can type one hundred words per minute, and am prompt and efficient, not to mention having edited the school paper, but so-so grades and a major in American studies have landed me here today.
Well, that and the fact that women in suits make my cock hard. Unbearably hard. So hard it’s almost painful. Women with power, the power to tower over me, to snap their fingers and make me obey; women who need their phones answered, need coffee brought to them, need a man “ready for anything,” as the classic David Allen business book advises. The kind of woman who’s got so much going on, who’s turbo-charged and needs someone to keep her action-packed, meeting-filled day running smoothly, those are the ones I dream about.
I’ve never told anyone about these fantasies, but I’ve had them for as long as I can remember. While my buddies went for the hot cheerleader types or the sweet girls-next-door, I was after the valedictorian, Audrey Hayden (and occasionally fantasized about our very prim and proper English teacher, who was actually British). With Audrey, I loved the way she raised her hand so knowingly in class, the smug look on her face when she finished a test, and, most especially, seeing her in her interview suits. She looked so efficient, so strong, like she could take over the world, become president or an ambassador. Power wasn’t something she questioned, but something she owned, and rather than wanting power of my own, I wanted her power unleashed on me. With Audrey, I never got up the courage to tell her how I felt, just looked longingly at her from afar.
Aside from my fetish, the fact is, if I want to move out of my parents’ house in Hackensack, I need to get a job fast. I’ve been grilled about my background, ambitions, and educational history, usually by creaky older guys who look like they could barely get it up in the sack, let alone submit to a woman if they were smart enough to know how exciting it would be. Or could be, I guess I should say, since I’ve never actually realized these fantasies. I’m just starting to drift off into my go-to jerk-off material, where I’m down on all fours getting my ass inspected by a woman with sharp, spiky heels, bright red lipstick, and a voice that could cut glass, when I hear my name called…by a woman who looks like she’s walked straight out of my naughty daydreams…
This one’s not out until March (but I promise it’s worth the wait), but what is out now is She’s on Top: Erotic Stories of Female Dominance and Male Submission: