Sharon looked down from her third floor apartment window at the rental office across the parking lot. “Not again,” she thought to herself. She was going to have to go down to see the rental manager about why she wouldn’t be on time with her rent payment for the fourth time in a row.

Ever since the processing plant she worked at shut down, it had been a struggle with two part time jobs to keep her and her 18-year-old daughter, Lisa, heads above water. Now, to make matters worse, just when the plant shut down, a new rental manager had replaced the old one that she knew and was friendly with.

This new manager had made Sharon feel as though she were some kind of freeloader, or squatter. Even though Sharon was able to beat the filing of eviction papers each time, the new manager made sure she was as uncomfortable as possible. The manager’s name was Tracy, a slender blonde 25-year-old who seemed to have left her compassionate side in the cradle. Sharon had a strange feeling the first time she ever laid eyes on Tracy, in her tight black jeans and red high heels, that she wasn’t going to like her. Sharon looked one more time at her checkbook and financial budget sheet, said a quick prayer, and went downstairs to talk with Tracy.

“I don’t give a damn about WHY you can’t pay your rent Mr. Hillard, just see that you DO by the date we discussed, got it?”

Tracy lifted her eyes to the shadow in the doorway just as she slammed the phone’s receiver back in its cradle. It was Sharon Hack paying her a visit, obviously, to give Tracy one more reason to have her evicted along with Mr. Hillard.

“Well ... Sharon. How are you doing?” Tracy asked with an obvious sarcastic lilt.

Sharon looked into Tracy’s steel blue eyes, and for a second, couldn’t find her voice after what she’d heard Tracy tell Mr. Hillard on the phone.

“Well ... I uhhhh, I’m ok I guess,” was all she could think of to say.

Tracy leaned back in her seat, and motioned Sharon to come in.

“Shut the door behind you please Sharon, so we can have a little privacy.”

Sharon stepped into the little office and shut the door behind her.

“What can I do for you ... this time?” Tracy asked with a smirk.

Sharon stood before the attractive blonde and felt as if she were back in elementary school in the principal’s office.

“Tracy ... we’re still having a hard time getting back on our feet, and I was letting you know I’d be late with the rent again, but I would have it to you by the 20th, the same as last month.”

Sharon could only stare down at her tennis shoes waiting for Tracy to let loose with her usual torrent of insulting comments about “coddling” tenants and people who wouldn’t carry their weight in the world.

Instead, Tracy said nothing, just continued staring at Sharon in what almost seemed amusement.

“Sharon, Sharon, Sharon...” Tracy said.

Sharon looked up to see Tracy actually smiling at her.

“How old are you Sharon? 40? 41?”

Sharon felt her face blush a little. “Actually, ummm, 43.”

Tracy giggled slightly at that.

“Wow... 43 huh? And to be honest you’re a very pretty forty-three-year-old. You got nice red hair, still got a nice figure, for a forty-three-year-old that is. Why don’t you just go out, find you a man, flash a little skirt at him, and let him help you out? I mean, plenty of women out here do that you know.”

Sharon was just about to say she’d heard just about enough, when Tracy, sensing it, raised her hand to silence her.

“I know. None of my business. But, you being on time with the rent IS my business isn’t it?”

Sharon nodded glumly.

“And I’ll bet you really stress out about beating the eviction filing deadline don’t you?”

Sharon again nodded her head.

“Well Sharon dear, what if I told you that you didn’t have to worry about it? That I think we could work out our own private arrangement? That is, if you wanted to be here next month.”

Sharon looked hopefully into Tracy’s eyes, but couldn’t read anything in them.

“Well ... I think I might like that, but what ‘arrangement’ are you talking about?”

Tracy leaned further back into the chair, and propped her feet up on the corner of her desk. She had on a pair of black, high heeled pumps, which to Sharon, seemed to have a pair of miniature silver handcuffs on the back of the heel.

“Sharon, before I tell you what I have in mind, I want to step it up just a notch. If you refuse to go along with my plan, then not only will I file eviction papers as usual, but I will also make a request to the property owner that you be evicted because it IS your fourth time in a row being late - whether or not you’re able to come up with the money. It IS in your lease agreement.”

Sharon was afraid that would come up; she stayed awake all night worrying if her talking to Tracy was even going to matter based on that rule, which WAS at the discretion of the manager. Sharon couldn’t think of anything this woman could come up with that Sharon would find so disagreeable that she would allow herself and Lisa to be evicted.

“Ok. You have a deal. What do you want me to do? Work maintenance? Sweep the parking lot? Baby-sit? What?”

Tracy got up from her seat and walked to the office door, and to Sharon’s astonishment, locked it. Tracy walked back around her desk and sat in the chair, again crossing her feet on the corner of the desk.

“No Sharon, no maintenance, sweeping, or babysitting.” Tracy smiled widely this time, and glanced down at her feet. “I want you to be my foot slave. I want you to worship my feet, with your hands, your lips, your tongue, anything, at anytime I want you to.”

Sharon’s jaw had grown slack upon hearing this, her mind slipping into outrage at this woman’s insane suggestion. Tracy smiled at the shocked look on Sharon’s face.

“Or ... pack your bags Sharon. It’s your call. You DO have your daughter to think about I know. Damn, and it’s prom month too, be a real shame if you ended up going to another school district, and having Lisa start all over. She MUST be getting tired of that.”

Sharon stared deadpan into Tracy’s malicious eyes.

“Fine,” she said stoically. “Whatever you want.”

Sharon turned quickly so Tracy wouldn’t see the tears forming in her eyes and began to leave. She reached for the doorknob and tried to open it before she remembered Tracy had locked it. As she fumbled with it, and became frustrated that the lock wouldn’t cooperate, Tracy’s hand came over her shoulder and held the door shut.

“Sharon ... I want your first payment to begin NOW.”

Sharon dropped her hand and turned to her blonde captor. Tracy reached out and wiped a tear from Sharon’s cheek, “Oh come on girl, it IS better than getting kicked out isn’t it? Besides, you might get to like it, you never know.”

Sharon glared into Tracy’s eyes, “I doubt it.”

She seethed. Tracy smiled wider at her, and placed a hand on Sharon’s shoulder. The smile disappeared.

“Get down on your knees Sharon,” Tracy ordered.

Sharon slowly sank to her knees before her landlord, a hateful gleam in her eyes. Tracy smiled down at her, then abruptly turned and went back to her seat behind the desk, leaving Sharon in the middle of the floor on her knees.

“Come over here Sharon,” Tracy ordered.

Sharon began to rise, but was stopped. “No Sharon, just crawl over here. That would be fine I think.”

Sharon leaned forward onto all fours, and slowly crawled over to Tracy’s desk. Tracy laughed aloud. “Oh my goodness, but that’s wonderful!”

Sharon reached the edge of Tracy’s desk, and sat back on her feet awaiting her orders. When Tracy’s laughing fit passed, she looked into her new slave’s face and said, “Take off my shoes now.”

Sharon reached out her hands to remove Tracy’s pumps when Tracy moved them away. “Not like that ... use your teeth.”

Sharon swallowed a retort as the warning look from Tracy promised eviction if she didn’t comply. Sharon leaned towards Tracy’s feet, and slowly, using her front teeth, grabbed the point of Tracy’s heel, and slowly pulled it off Tracy’s black hosed foot. She released the shoe, where it landed in her lap.