She Calls Me Sir Novels & Stories

He sat behind it, sleeves rolled to the forearms, tie loosened just enough to look dangerous, not casual. He didn’t look up. Not right away. “Close the door, Miss Monroe.” And I did as he commanded. My pulse obeyed no logic neither did my legs, as I walked toward the desk. “You summoned me?” I asked, voice steady but thin. That made him look up. I noticed his piercing blue eyes with no softness just scrutiny. “No one’s ever asked me that like it’s an insult,” he said coolly. “Not bad.” “I didn’t mean….”

I literally stand there watching her for almost five minutes, waiting for her to say something or let me know she knows I’m here, but she fucking doesn’t. “I want you to go back to normal,” I blurt out all of a sudden, when I can’t bear her cold shoulder for another second. But even then, she doesn’t look at me. “Sure, Sir,” she replies, still chopping a cucumber into small pieces. “Stop calling me Sir like that, you haven’t called me that in years,” I complain with narrowed eyes, “This is exactly the opposite of what I’m asking you.”

“Why?” “Because I said so.” “Okay, and you have to address me as Sir.” She tried by all means to maintain eye contact with him but she was too shy. She looked down at the contract she was holding. “What about Lothario? Casanova? Or how about Casanova bastard?” She said after stiffening her voice. “You address me as Sir. Understood?” He was so intimidating. “Yes sir.” She covered her mouth realizing that she haven't signed the contract yet.

she said nervously, immediately looking down at her dirt-stained shoes. A low, warm chuckle rumbled from his chest. "You won't ever stop calling me sir, will you?" "Pardon me, sir, but I don't think I will ever be able to call you anything except sir or master. I am just a maid; that is what I am supposed to do," she replied, gathering a tiny bit of confidence. Her formal strictness only seemed to amuse him more. He let out a throaty laugh. "I didn't know a petite little thing like you could speak so confidently," he grinned.

She knew she was beaten. "What do you want me to do?" "Start calling me Sir you cheap slut" "Yes Sir, what does Sir want me to do" "That's better slut, you can start by getting my cock out and giving it a suck, ask me nicely first of course" "Sir, may I please suck your cock" "Good slut you may suck me off"

She stood there naked in her own living room, arms at her sides now. “Good girl,” I said. “Turn around. Bend over and spread your ass.” Her face burned red but she did it. She bent at the waist, reached back and spread her cheeks. Her asshole and pussy were right there. I walked up behind her and ran my fingers over her slit. She was already getting wet. “Wet already? You’re more of a whore than I thought.” “Please…” she whispered. I slapped her ass hard. “From now on you call me Sir. Understand?”

I start to feel cold and when I suspected that a hand was going to land on my shoulder, my eyes fluttered forcefully against my wish. My eyes met with the person who had tried to do that, it was my sister Diana. I blinked my eyes in askance and a beautiful smile was flash at me. "Sir,"The voice called. I blinked my eyes over again. Why would my sister refer to me as sir?I pondered in my heart. "Sir,what are you doing here?"The voice simmered. I blinked back my eyes and that was it... **

“Now. What do you call me?” Silence. I twisted harder. “What do you call me?” “Sir,” He gasped. “I call you sir.” “Damn right you do.” I pulled his face closer to mine, my voice low. “You're my bitch now, Carl. That means you do what I say, when I say it. If I tell you to scrub the toilets with your toothbrush, you say 'how many times, sir?' If I tell you to kiss my boots, you ask which one first. Do you—?”

she nudged my side with her elbow. “Why?” I asked with a furrowed brow. “Why does Sir always call you? Do you have something going on?” she teased and grinned. I coughed at what she said. “Nothing, okay! What something are you talking about? Seb, if you only knew how tiring his orders are. You’re lucky you’re not being called,” I pouted. She stopped grinning. “Yeah, right? I’m scared of Sir when I’m facing him,” she said with a raised eyebrow.

Sir laughed lightly, “Tell me.” I pushed my hair behind my ears, I placed my fingertip on his arms and drew circles, “You know…..lights are turned off….. music is on….behind a closed door…. Clothes…” “Inaya oh my goodness,” Sir chuckled softly, “Let’s take this a step at a time, we are not there yet.” “Okay Sir,” I rolled my eyes playfully. “Inaya,” Sir called, until today I never noticed Sir has a calm, deep, rough voice that soothes the ear, “Can you stop calling me Sir now?”