He didn’t much like the idea of being a secretary. It didn’t seem the proper sort of job for a man. But the pay check was fat and he didn’t have any other comparable prospects at the moment. His first day on the job he met with his superior and she outlined the rules and restrictions of his position. He nodded and smiled, only half listening. His superior was wearing a pair of beautiful flesh colored stockings with seams up the back and charming black pumps with open toes, which made the dull, obligatory briefing so much more bearable.




“Are you paying attention?” she asked wearily.
“Of course, of course. I heard every word you said.” A few weeks later, he had to admit the job wasn’t so bad. It did feel horribly menial to make coffee and take down messages for his superior. But, on the other hand, there were her knockout legs and her shoes with peep toes or delicate straps. Things could be worse. Even his service jobs seemed more equal when he accompanied them with a suggestive smile or a flirty comment. When she gave him a memo to deliver to the boss, he was sure she had been flattered by his attentions and this was a sign of rise in his status.
Opening the door after a cursory knock, he found the boss lounging back in her office chair, looking out the window. Yes, her. In an impeccably tailored men’s suit and heels like blades. Never, until now, had he understood why that most feminine of garments, the stiletto, was named after a knife.
“You are Ms. Raymond’s secretary?” she asked, not bothering to look at him.
“I am that,” he replied, trying to sound confident and casual to mask how he was beginning to feel nervous.
Slowly, she turned back towards him and her eyes were hard. “You can’t even bother to address me properly, I see,” and the knife was in her voice, not just in her heels. “When I ask you a question, you are to say yes maam or no maam,”
“Is this a joke?”
She half rose at the affront, her lips pressed to a thin line. “Let me assure you, sir,” she spoke the word with contempt, “this is most assuredly not a joke. You are in some very serious trouble.” He glanced at her sharply in shock. “Don’t gape at me like that,” she said sternly. “Keep your eyes on the ground. It’s your roving eyes that are getting you in trouble, after all.” When he remained looking defiantly at her, she rose and came around the desk to stand in front of him. Although he was taller than her, the unshakable determination in her eyes made him feel small compared to her. “Let me remind you that I am the boss and that, if you want to keep you’re job, you need to do as I tell you. Do you understand?”
He struggled with his pride for a moment. But knew he needed to keep the job. “Yes, maam,” he whispered, casting down his eyes.
“Now, I have been receiving complaints from Ms. Raymond that you have been looking at her legs, making comments of an inappropriate nature to her and things of that nature. What do you have to say for yourself?”
“I’m sorry, maam. I know it’s not appropriate type of interaction in the work place but…”
Her hand lashed out, catching him a stinging blow on the cheek. “You just made your first mistake right there.” She grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked his head back. The strength of her pull forced him to squat down so that he was below her looking up. She spoke slowly and deliberately, as if he was too stupid to understand. “The fact that you are on the job is NOT what makes it inappropriate. It is the fact that you are using her for your own gratification without her permission. That is ALWAYS inappropriate, no matter where it happens.” Slowly and deliberately, she unbuttoned the front of her suit and, underneath, there was no shirt, only the black bra against her creamy flesh. Her lip curled in disgust. “Look at you,” she sneered. “Even after I just explained your faults to you, you still can’t stop staring at me. The only thing to do with you is to put you somewhere where you can’t look at any one without permission. Get under my desk.” When he hesitated, a sharp jab from her cruel shoes quickly set him in motion. “Now get on your knees and stay there. Don’t move until I say you can.” She sat back down in her chair and rested her feet on him and the sharp heels dug into him.





He thought it would be over soon. But an hour dragged by and, as the second began, he began to worry she had forgotten he was there. So he coughed and arched his back a little to remind her. This earned him a sharp dig from her heel and nothing else. Before too much longer, his legs began to cramp, his muscles started to twitch and he got another kick. He bit his lip and fought to hold himself still. By the end of the work day, when she finally let him get up, his knees and wrists were sore and aching in spite of the carpeting on the floor. His throat was dry as dust.
“Next time you look at me without permission, you know what will happen to you,” she reminded him as he staggered to the door.






The next day, he found things had become far worse. Now she had her jacket open with nothing under it, only the shadow of her cleavage between the sharp lines of the coat. It took every inch of control not to stare at her but he dared not because he knew he would be stuck back under the table again. He couldn’t see the look on her face but he thought he could hear her chuckle at his effort.
“Now, today, I want you to clean my office,” she said sternly. “I want the desk scrubbed, the carpet vacuumed, the computer flushed out with compressed air, and all the files in the cabinet put in perfect alphabetical order. If your task is not completed to my satisfaction, you will have to stay until it’s done.” As he prepared to go dashing off frantically to begin, she stopped him with a hand like iron on his arm. “Don’t forget,” she added in a cold hard voice. “You have not been relieved of your normal duties. I still expect you to fix my coffee, answer my phone, and everything else you normally do.”
If possible, this day was even more difficult that the previous one. In his haste, he could never seem to get things right. When he wiped down her desk, she came over and stood behind him. “Look at that,” she snapped, “Look at all the spots you missed. Are you blind? Have you ruined your eyes by looking at women’s legs like the little slut you are?” Her closed, claw like, on the back of his head, forcing it down to the desk. “You’ll have to get closer so that you can see better,” she said when the side of his face was crushed against the desk. “Now, lick!” As he wiped the surface up and down with his tongue, she kept her fingers in his hear, jerking his head back and forth from time to time, as if it was a sponge she was using. The bitter taste of the soap made him choke and feel sick. But any time he tried to pull back , she simply pushed his head down all the harder.
The delay caused by all his mistakes, such as re-cleaning the desk, meant that he had not even started organizing the filing cabinet. “What a pity,” she said with mock sympathy, her lip curling slightly, as he confessed his fault. “I guess there were just too many distractions. Don’t worry, you’ll have all night to finish with peace and quiet.” She pulled the door shut behind her and he heard the key click in the lock.