David lay naked on top of the bed his mind churning over the events of earlier in the day. Lying with his eyes closed and a plastic masturbater humming and gently gnawing on his prick and allowing his thoughts free reign he asked himself, "I wonder if Polly is right? She's a perceptive kid even if she isn't too bright in other ways. We all laugh at her spelling and the way she writes but she's good at what she does and seems to understand people better than I do. I couldn't even understand Lisa and I was married to her for twelve years until that ended in divorce five years ago. She's better off married to that wealthy London broker who enjoys taking her to shows and expensive restaurants in town. They're all things that don't appeal to me. She didn't like my mates in the cycling club either. I haven't had many women since. Bloody recriminations as the divorce went through put me off women. Don't know if I'll ever get involved again. Certainly not with that unpleasant, bossy bitch, Stephanie Jones. Perhaps though if she really submits herself and I get to thrash her a couple of times� No, she'd sue me for assault or sexual harassment or something. Be nice to have her over my knee though and spank her bony arse. Bet there's not much padding on it. She always looks like she needs a good meal. Bet her cunt is tight. Wonder if she's a virgin? A virgin at 32? I doubt it, but she’s not had anyone for the whole time I've employed her and she never speaks of any previous relationships." For a while his mind returned to the early days of his marriage when he and Lisa would lie side by side and fondle each other after making love. "How did that all go so wrong?" he asked the mermaid sculpted on the masturbater.

"What will I do with her if she does turn up on Monday? Can't very well tell her to piss off home after what I said in front of the girls and what they suggested I should do. She's probably agonising over what to do right now and if she comes in on Monday then she would have decided on the slavery option. How do I handle that? I wouldn't mind giving her a good thrashing. She's hardly treated me as her boss ever since she started work here. I'd like to pay her back for that. I've fantasised often enough about having a slave and read enough stories on the net but this would be reality. In my fantasy world I know what I would do. I'd make her strip off in my office and then inspect her to see if she was as titless as her dresses make her look. I might even be able to do that for real. In my fantasy she'll really be a virgin of course and humiliated at having to show me her naked body. The humiliation would be so great she'd resist and I, like some powerful eastern potentate, would order another slave to hold her down while I whipped her arse until she begged for mercy and pleaded me to do what I would with her body. I wouldn't stop until I thought she'd had more than enough." David's mind clearly saw a naked Stephanie, held tightly over his desk, her buttocks criss-crossed with livid red stripes and he heard her pleading for him to stop and apologising over and over again for her behaviour. "Under the watchful eye of my slave, I'd grip her arse and roughly push the welted bottom cheeks apart and force my rampant prick against her tight brown hole. That sounds more like a dramatic scenario I once read. I've never fucked an arse before, but often wished to try it. Lisa wouldn't allow it. It will of course be painful and she'll cry out when I thrust my manhood into her and fuck her hard. I'll ignore her screams and anguished begging and carry on until I shoot my load inside her bowels." The vision aroused him greatly and he spurted into the masturbater. Switching the machine off, his mind returned to reality. He knew that in this day and age he would never get away with whipping anyone, nor did he really believe he would hurt anyone, not even the Stephanie bitch, as badly as his imagined scenario.

"I doubt she'll turn up anyway. But what will I really do if she does? What will the other girls do? They've been used to her bossing them around and bitching at them. They'll probably want to give her some stick now they have the upper hand. How will she react to them taking the piss? That could lead to as much unpleasantness as we had before. I daren't whip or cane her and leave marks that she could show the police. Spanking would probably be okay, maybe even a strap or the slipper. Much will depend on her willingness to go along with the slavery thing. She could decide to pack it in after only an hour and if I sack her, she could then go to an industrial tribunal and claim unfair dismissal or something. Wish I hadn't started this whole thing. It was only intended as a joke. Maybe she'll find another job."

Half a mile away in a one bedroom flat, Stephanie too lay thinking in her bed. "What are you going to do Steph? There weren't any jobs you fancied in the evening paper and you can't allow yourself to be a slave to that bastard David Benson can you? Especially with all those other tarts knowing. They'll deliberately go out of their way to make your life hell. Still you need the money girl and he pays quite good wages for the work we do. It's not a bad job, or rather, it wasn't a bad job until you opened your big mouth. There's a variety of work to keep us interested. Why on earth did you not switch the stupid intercom off? What will he expect me to do as a slave? Sounded like I would have to sleep with him. Or more crudely he'll want to fuck me. Could I allow that? No, not willingly. Will he make me do other sexual things? Like sucking him? Or doing it in my bottom? Some of my love story novels have mentioned that. Bet that hurts. He said he'd punish me for my outburst. That was stupid of me. Why didn't I keep my mouth shut? The girls all seemed willing enough to help him get the order out when I was leaving. Why did they not want to help me? Just because I'm more efficient? Or they don't like the way I chivvy them into getting the work done? Don't they realise I have to be the one in control and you can't do that by being nice now, can you? Don't kid yourself Steph. They hate your guts. They'll treat you like shit if you go back as a slave. How will he punish me? A spanking? In front of the others perhaps? On my bare bum? Or perhaps he wants to cane me over his desk, like a naughty schoolgirl. Doubt he would be foolish enough to hurt me too much or leave marks. He'd know I could go to the authorities. I daresay he'll try and humiliate me as much as possible. Maybe he'll want to provoke another outburst so he can give me another thrashing. Still it may not come to that. I'll look in the ad's again tomorrow and perhaps there'll be another job going. Will he give me a decent reference though? He didn't sound all that pleased with me this afternoon, not just because I called him a slave driver, more because he thought I'd soured the atmosphere in the office. Probably with me there, he could not get to have sex with some of the girls. I know that Tracy wants to get into his pants. I wonder what it would be like to have sex with him? Perhaps he would tie me down like the slave he imagines me to be and then rape me. Except I supposed it wouldn't be construed as rape as I would have consented to go with him as his slave. Except slavery is illegal these days so I would have gone voluntarily as his mistress. How long would I be a slave for? He didn't give a time limit. Perhaps until I got enough money for a car or could get another job. I wonder what his penis is like? I've only done it twice and then that Reggie Harris called me a flat-chested little bitch and dumped me. He only wanted to have sex with me and when he'd done it twice he wanted another girl, one with more tits. That's what's put me off men for all these years." With a jumble of random thoughts chasing themselves around Stephanie's brain, she was a long time getting to sleep.

On Sunday morning, Stephanie sat at the breakfast table crying onto the open newspaper in front of her. Her morning coffee stood alongside, untouched and cold. She scanned the adverts for the twentieth time but there were no jobs she thought suitable. Indeed there were very few office type jobs at all. Most of the work available was for unskilled manual workers at the chicken packaging factory or the freezer processing plant. There was one job she fancied in the Employment Bureau list yesterday but when she enquired the assistant remarked, "I'll give you the application form but the advert has been out for over a week and there have been a lot of people after that job." Without a really good reference from David she knew she would not get to the interview stage even if someone hadn't already been appointed. Stephanie folded the newspaper and pushed it aside. "No good sitting here and crying," she scolded herself, "Go for a walk, maybe it will clear the cobwebs away and give you a clearer idea of what to do."

"You all right Miss Jones?" Stephanie looked up from her seat in the park. Isolated teardrops trickled down her cheek. Polly and a large boy stood in front of her. The boy was smiling and had one arm round Polly's waist and in the other he held a canvas bag. "You go on to the bowling club Pete, I'll catch you up in a minute," Polly told the boy. He kissed her affectionately, gave her a pat on the arse and said, "See you later. Don't be long Poll, I need you as my mascot for the competition. You bring me luck." Pete kissed her again and with a little wave, carried on down the path. A pang of jealousy went unplanned through Stephanie. No one ever treated her in an affectionate way. No one had ever loved her, not even her own mother. Another teardrop coursed down her cheek.

"You're worried about what happened on Friday? You're worried about this slave thing?" Polly questioned as sat alongside Stephanie.

Stephanie nodded. "There's no other jobs at the moment." It always surprised her how easily she could talk to Polly. It was not so much what the girl said but the way she said it and the expression of concern on her face. The girl had an open frankness that she knew she could trust. Quite unlike the other girls, whom she felt had hidden meanings behind their words.

"You're considering David's option then?" Again Stephanie nodded. "And you're worried sick about what he might do to you?"

"Not just Mr. Benson. It's how all the girls in the office will treat me as well. They'll enjoy sniping at me and making me feel about so high." Stephanie indicated the distance by the small gap between her thumb and forefinger. "I just know they will try and wind me up."

"I'm sure there'll be some of that Miss Jones, - can I call you Stephanie now we're not at work?" Stephanie murmured, "Please do," and Polly went on, "I may be wrong but I don't think David would allow that to go on for too long provided you don't start abusing them over it. I hope you won't mind my saying this Stephanie, but you were not the most popular member of staff at Kwikprint so I guess Kelly and the others will want to get back at you but I know David hates bickering women and he's told us off before. He did it when I first came and they took the piss out of me because I can't spell properly." Stephanie wondered if she could stand the girls 'taking the piss' out of her for even a short period but said nothing. She'd think about it when she was alone again.

"As to what David will do is anyone's guess. I don't think he'll be deliberately cruel to you. The girls joked about how he would punish you when we did the order on Friday but he didn't say much. I know what you said offended him but I'm sure you won't be thrashed or anything bad. I know that after his wife left him, he hates bossy women so probably what you said made him feel worse. It seemed to me from what he said after you'd gone, that he expected his offer to take you as a slave to be a joke but when the other girls took it seriously, he took it seriously too. Will you really object to sleeping with him? To him fucking you?" Polly always used down to earth language.

Stephanie blushed and Polly started to apologise but Stephanie stopped her. "It's all right Polly. It's something I have to face up to if I decide to take the slave option. I really don't know the answer. I've never slept with a man although I suppose I've thought about it but I've never taken a fancy to anyone in that way."

"I know I'm different to you Stephanie, and as you know I've had several boyfriends over the last few years. Pete's my latest and I sleep with him most weekends." Polly said that as a pure statement of fact. "I love him fucking me. I love it when we are so close you couldn't get a fag paper between us. It makes us feel together and in love. I guess you don't have that experience and I don't know if you will get it with David, but you won't know unless you give it a whirl. What is the alternative? To become a crotchety, unloved, grouchy old spinster?� Sorry, I should have put that more tactfully."

Tears now flowed freely down Stephanie's face. Polly's words hit a raw spot. Often she wondered if she'd grow old and lonely with no one to share her life. She accepted the offered tissue but turned away when Polly tried to put an arm around her. "Sorry," Polly whispered again, "I said too much. My big mouth again. I'd better get back to Pete. Sorry if I've upset you more than you were. You've a lot to think about before tomorrow. I think you know me well enough to realise I won't be one of those taking the piss out of you." Stephanie continued to face away from the girl and didn't look round when she left.

"What am I going to do?" Stephanie asked herself for the hundredth time that night. "Can I really submit myself to that Benson man? Is Polly right about him? Will he love me? No, more likely he'll just treat me as a whore and fuck me like a prostitute, which, in a way, I suppose I will be. Polly might like that but I don't think I will. Will the girls make my life miserable or will David put a stop to it like Poll suggested? Will I just be given menial work to do? If Kelly's doing my work I'll probably have to work the machines but I don't know too much about them. What will he�?" Finally she fell into an uneasy sleep without having made a decision one way or the other.