The names we call each other

A subtle thing happens with the ladies at the S&M bar. When either one is getting horny, she’ll call the other one by their pet name. Sarah calls Mary “slut”. Mary calls Sarah “bitch”.


“Is this the way you want it, slut?” Sarah will say to Mary in a teasing way.

“Yeah,” Mary will reply if she’s game, “that’s the way I want it, bitch!”

This kind of conversation happens when they’re about to call it a day. It’s usually out of range from the customers, but I know what they’re saying by the tone of their voice. It’s the beginning of their love game.

Mary, the slut, will bend over, her butt facing Sarah. Sarah will walk by, giving her a discreet slap. “Is that all you got,” Mary will say, tauntingly.

“There’s a lot more waiting for you, slut!” Sarah will say if she’s feeling feisty.

This dialog can go on for several minutes before one will turn to me and say, “Dave, can you close up tonight?”

“Yes,  I got it covered.”

“Good, ” she’ll say, “we’re retiring for the night” as she picks up a wine split.

The reality of living with the ladies is that they are deeply involved with each other and they need “together” time to sort things out. I stay at the bar as long as I can, sometimes for the whole night, to give them personal space, if they want to be alone.

Sometimes they’ll want me to join me a little later. When they do, they call me by my pet name.


“You’ll be coming to bed soon, won’t you, man-whore?”


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