Ms. Bitch is Mistress Susan Ch. 01

Yet, now in hindsight, even though it should have been obvious with her wearing nothing but black, obviously I was attracted to her. I was attracted to her not because she was so damn beautiful, sexy, and shapely but because she was what I wasn't. She was who I wanted. She was so forceful and controlling. Thinking of her just being my boss, I never took note of her in a Dom/sub sexual way until now and until I found her professional Dominatrix website on the internet. Had I not found her website, I may have never known who she really was beneath her black business suit and black knee high, high heeled boots.

Black dress or a black blouse with a short, tight, black skirt, black jacket, black coat, black stockings with knee high, black boots with three inch heels was her daily uniform of choice. Then, factor in her shoulder length, blonde hair with blue brown, angry eyes, she was as captivating as she was an enigma to me. Now that I knew she was a 36 double D, I looked more closely at her breasts. She hid them well but now that I knew they were there, the fact that she had enormous tits added more proof to my suspicions. Absolutely, now that I was aware she was so busty, her breasts were further proof that she was Mistress Susan from the website.

She carried a black, oversized pocketbook so big that I wondered if she carried her toys and implements of domination back and forth to work with her, just in case she needed them in the parking lot, on the elevator, or in the lunchroom. I imagined a leather whip that when pulled out of her pocketbook, and with just a flick of her wrist, instantly opened in the way of a police baton. I imagined her carrying a paddle, in case she needed to discipline by punishing one of her employees with a spanking. I imagined all sorts of toys and implements of bondage that she carried around with her in her huge purse.

Her eyes, now that I know her secret and who she is, is her portal to not only to her soul but also to the queen of punishment herself and the Devil of discipline that she was. With just a look, her eyes are what makes me want to obey her and please her. Her eyes haunt me every day and are what I see in my sexual dreams at night while stroking my cock over the sexy thoughts of her in my bed. Yet, just as few would even understand her dark side, no one but me and her following of loyal slaves knew her dark secret. Moreover, one up on her, even she didn't know that I shared her dark side and kept her dark secret.

Yet, in the way that I couldn't tell that she was a Dominatrix before I happened upon her website, I wondered if she could tell just by looking at me, observing me, and watching me in the way that I watch her that I was a submissive, sexual slave. If only she knew I was, I'd come clean. Perhaps my telltale sign was the fact that I was always trying to please her. Perhaps my giveaway was that she never rattled me in the way she did the others when lambasting them for making a mistake. Maybe she saw something in me that she recognized. Even if she suspected that I wasn't already sub, maybe she believed that I had the potential to be one. No matter what she thought of me, after a while we developed a friendship and a kindred spirit as if we were old friends instead of employer and employee.

If only they knew. No one even suspected what a real bitch she was, the Queen Bitch, my sexual fantasy come to life. The perfect man to use as a foil and for her sexual scenario to play out, her need to control was obviously something that she carried forward from her private life to her job and back, the same as I did. Only, the difference between us, I didn't even want to control myself. I wanted her to control me.

Even though she looked so different in work than she did on her website, I nearly didn't recognize her with her clothes off. Even though she only wore black clothes, thinking that her lack of color was her fashion statement to make, now that I knew her as an online Dominatrix, I looked forward to going to work. I looked forward to working with her, to hearing her voice, to talking and interacting with her, and to endlessly staring at her, my dream woman.

My secret and before taking this work relationship to a more private, sexual one, she was soon to become my anonymous mistress to take me to the disturbed side of my darkest sexual fantasies of sadomasochism, bondage, punishment, humiliation, and complete domination. If only my co-workers knew the dark secrets of my boss, they'd rebel. If only my co-workers knew my dark secrets, they'd recoil. If only my boss knew that I was one of her most loyal online minions, I wonder if she'd give me a raise and a promotion.

I couldn't wait to play out my version of the movie, The Secretary, with James Spader as Mr. Grey and Maggie Gyllenhaal as Lee Holloway. Only, I'd play the part of Ms. Lee Holloway and my boss Susan would play the part of Mr. Grey. Even without the spanking, especially with the spanking, The Secretary was one of my all-time favorite movies. I loved that movie.

I couldn't wait for Mistress Susan to order me to remove my clothes. I couldn't wait for Mistress Susan to spank me. I couldn't wait for Mistress Susan to discipline me and punish me. I couldn't wait to reveal to her that I knew her deep, dark secret. I couldn't wait to see her dressed as my Dominatrix. I couldn't wait to be her sexual, slutty slave.

All this time, I had been working side-by-side with the woman of my dreams. Now that I knew her secret, mixing business with pleasure, I couldn't wait for the sexy and naughty games to begin. If only she'd used me and abuse me, I'd be the happiest man on earth. Her inherent skills of domination in the corporate world were her perfect foil. Her mask to hide was what she was really capable of and what she was really like on the inside. Having loved her from afar, now that she was here standing before me, not even knowing who I was, I had an uncontrollable willingness to please her.

Then one day, a day like any other day at the office, Susan didn't show up for work. Never was she been absent from work. She was always there. Without her there to lead us and berate us, it was as if the teacher didn't show up for class. My co-workers were as wild as junior high students. No one was doing any work. Everyone was laughing and talking, that is, until the phone rang and it was her.

"Everyone be quiet," said the receptionist. "Glenn call for you on line one. It's Ms. Bitch," she said after putting Susan on hold.

"Hello Glenn," she said.

By all the other names she called me and that I answered to, moron, idiot, stupid, and useless, I didn't even know she knew my name. In the more than two years that I worked for her, never has she called me by name.

"Hi Susan," I said.

I enjoyed saying her name, a name that evokes the memory of her nearly naked photos that appear on her website. Yet, as if a line as long and as deep as an incestuous line, so long as I wanted to keep my job, I'd never cross the line of employee and employer. She'd have to cross the line first. It was up to her to reveal her identity to me before I revealed my motives to her. Alas, never believing that she would cross the employee/employee line because of sexual harassment laws, my sexually fantasy, no doubt, will never be.

"I'm not feeling well and I need some things to work on from home. Would you be so kind as to drop them by my house?"

'What? Seriously? She wants me to come to her house. Maybe her house is where the dungeon is,' I thought to myself.

My pulse was racing. My mind was on overdrive with all the sexy scenarios I imagined. My heart was beating. My cock was hardening with all of the naughty things that I was thinking. Was this just a ruse to get me to her house and into her dungeon? Did she know that it was me, her dirty, little slut writing daily, multiple times a day, on her blog?

"Of course," I said stunned and waving my hand at everyone to be quiet. "Where do you live?" I asked her knowing full well where she lived. I even had the audacity to ask her for directions.

"I live at 10 Oceanside Lane. It's just a small cottage but it's right on the ocean," she said.

"How do I get there from here?"

"Take the first exit off the highway for my town, exit 8. Continue strait until you see water and can't continue forward anymore," she said. "I'm the first street on the right and the last house in the middle of a secluded cul-de-sac."

From passing out the paychecks, I knew exactly where she lived. Once I learned her address, I drove by her house many times on the weekends to see if I could catch her outside walking the beach or walking her dog, if she even had a dog. What she called a cottage was a mansion to me. Knowing that she did after seeing one on her website, I wondered if she had a dungeon downstairs in her house or if it was out in the garage. I wondered if this was a ruse just to get me alone with her. After all, I've been bad, very bad lately. I wondered if she knew that I was her little, sexy slut who continually posted to her blog and who needed to be disciplined, punished, spanked, and controlled.

To be continued...