Six months ago, a tall, attractive and supremely confident blonde was hired to run the six-person accounting office where I work. I was, and still am, the only guy in the place, and it seemed like all the women took an instant dislike to Linda, who at twenty-eight was younger than all but one of them and sexier by far than any of them. And it didn’t help when they discovered that she was every bit as smart as she was bossy and beautiful. And I’m sure the other women, many of whom had played up to me, couldn’t help seeing that Linda had me eating out of her hand from the first day.

I tried to hide this, but not from Linda. I couldn’t. She seemed to fathom my helpless devotion from the moment our eyes met. She, too, played along for appearances, but whenever she summoned me into her office (the rest of us sit in an open bull pen), or I stopped by to ask her a question, her seductive smile, her velvety voice and gorgeous crossed legs would soon have me stammering and blushing.

One day I confessed to her how much I liked working for her. “And I like having you work for me, Tim,” she answered, leveling me with her gaze.

A week later, her car needed repairs and she asked me to drive her home. “I’ll make you dinner,” she said. There was no question of my saying no. I couldn’t wait for six o’clock. In fact, I had an erection the rest of that afternoon.

For once, reality exceeded my fantasies. Driving Linda home, it was all I could do to keep my eyes on the road, and even then her perfume was intoxicating me. Linda’s apartment was an elegant ultra-female nest, overflowing with plants, hi-tech furniture, lovely prints and a white rug as thick as a polar bear’s pelt. She poured a mean Chardonnay and whipped up a salad and pasta, chattering all the while with a voice that oozed sensuality.

She was driving me out of my mind, and she knew it. Several times during dinner, she giggled out loud at my nervousness. “Tim, what on earth is the matter with you,” she said, as if she didn’t know.

“You,” I said. “Just looking at you … you’re so beautiful … and I … ”

“Poor baby, I guess it’s a little too much for you, isn’t it?” She told me to put down my fork and follow her over to the couch and sit beside her and tell her everything I was feeling. My heart was hammering as she curled up close beside me, her silk blouse half unbuttoned and revealing generous cleavage. “Okay, you were saying,” she prompted. “How do you feel about me, the boss lady, hmm? Go on. I won’t bite.”

“Linda, I adore you,” I said.

“You think I don’t know that, silly? Hey, I’m not blind. I’ve known all along. And guess what? I think you’re a darling, and I give you my permission to adore me as much as you like. Does that make you feel better? Now come closer to me.”

She let me curl up against her, opened her blouse to her belt and freed one soft, succulent breast and let me suck. “Don’t fight it anymore, Tim,” she said softly as she guided my mouth onto the pert nipple. “Surrender to your feelings, your adoration. Surrender to Linda. Totally and absolutely.”

The rest of the night was beyond my wildest dreams. She undressed me, then herself, and led me into her bedroom. “We’re going to have a party,” she said. “But first, I want you to know my rules. I’m going to be in total control. But that’s what you want more than anything, isn’t it, Tim?”

“Yes,” I said obediently.

“Then get down before me. That’s right, on your knees. Put your arms around my legs and lay your cheek here, against me, while I explain how I want you to behave.”

She outlined a new relationship — mistress and slave boy. It was to be non-exclusive on her part, exclusive on mine. That is to say, I was to be henceforth her property, to have no other girlfriend, no other dates. I would continue my dutiful performance at the office and be available to her at all other hours as well. She expected to be able to reach me by phone at any time for any reason, without getting a busy signal.

She, however, was to have her complete sexual freedom. “Right now, it so happens I’m between boyfriends. And I find you terribly amusing and can’t wait for all the games I intend to play with you. I may not want anyone else for a while. On the other hand, I may go down to my pool tomorrow and see some muscular stud and take him home and fuck his brains out. You never know. When my hormones get crazy, I’m liable to do most anything. But it’s going to be none of your business, unless I decide to tell you just to inflame your jealousy. Understand?”

I gulped and nodded. “I wish it was my business, though,” I said, my jealousy just having been inflamed, exactly as she intended. “I wish I could have you all to myself.” The next instant, Linda’s palm met my cheek with a blow that made my head spin and profoundly shocked me. I had never been slapped hard by a woman.

“Never again question anything I tell you,” she said sternly. “Not here, not at the office. I demand total obedience from you, Tim. If you’re not ready for that, get out. And you’ll have to watch your step at work.”

But she softened her tone when she saw tears welling in my eyes. Her words hurt more than the slap. “Poor baby, look at you. Come here.” She cradled my head again as I blurted out my apology for ever having questioned her. “I swear,” I promised. “Never again.”

“That’s right,” she said. “It isn’t fair, but that’s the way it’s going to be. Why do you think that is?”

“Because … because you’re … beautiful and superior in every way and ….”

“Well put, my darling slave boy.” I looked up, then dropped to my knees as she pushed me down hard. “Now, as a sign of your new station in life, I want you to lick my feet. Do a good job, okay? Start with the soles.” I tried to take one lovely foot in my hands and bent to lick the bottom, but she kicked me with it, and surprisingly hard. “No, not that way. Get your face down there — lie flat on the floor, silly, so I can walk on you.”

At the office, meanwhile, our new relationship could only be hinted at, obviously. But, after all, she was my boss and called all the shots, so it wasn’t too different. At the risk of alienating the other women, I began fetching Linda’s morning coffee and bringing frequent refills during the day. I couldn’t help myself, and I know Linda was pleased by this small symbol of my servitude. I wanted to bring her flowers, but she said I’d better not. If only my fellow workers knew of another symbol — on all my jockey shorts, Linda had me sew in her old camp tags, which read Property of Linda. “It’s our little secret,” she said, “knowing at every second of every hour that you belong to me.”

Linda likes to demonstrate her power over me in subtle ways, delicious and sensual. When we go out to dinner (and yes, I must treat, even though she makes far more money than I do) and have steak, say, she may have me lick any bits of grease from her fingers, and quite openly, so that other diners may notice. “Little by little I’m going to make you into my perfect slave boy. Doesn’t that make you proud?” And it does.

Linda is an aerobics fanatic and has me launder all her workout clothes. I sleep with a pair of her sweat-soaked leotards on my face each night. And there are other intimacies that occur during her frequent face-sitting sessions that, frankly, I’m too embarrassed to write about. Suffice it to say, my adoration is total and abject. Whatever else she dreams up in her wonderful and wicked mind, she knows I will eagerly perform.