So, when I decided that it was time to take Mr Loverman on a trip, it was easily resolved. I simply approached our boss, Nico, and suggested that there was a two day conference in London in a couple of weeks, on e-government, which I thought it would be useful for us to attend. The conference itself would be tedious, I told him, the same vague, academic waffle bereft of any business imperative or common sense logic, but we would be sure to make interesting contacts which would benefit the company. Graham and I would be ideal ambassadors, I told him. And, of course, he agreed.

Mr Loverman was most apprehensive when I told him. Visions of humiliation on a grand scale floated in front of his eyes, the degradations of the past few weeks, restricted as they were to the confines of our office, paling into insignificance as he imagined me painting my dominance of him on a vast, new and very public canvas. Oh yes, Mr Loverman was a worried man. As well he should have been.

Confirmation that this was going to be no normal conference for the poor little man came early, when we alighted from the taxi and I swept into our hotel, leaving him to pay the driver and contend with our combined luggage. He had crammed his belongings into a small holdall, but I had brought two full suitcases, one of which contained only blankets, and was brought for no other purpose than to give Mr Loverman something awkward and heavy to carry. It worked, and it was a red-faced and sweating Mr Loverman who finally caught up with me in reception. I dangled the keys of our rooms in my hand and motioned to him.

"Come on, hurry up," I said. "We're on the fourth floor. I think we'll walk, I don't like lifts. Is that okay?" Without waiting for a reply I marched towards the stairs, Mr Loverman trailing in my wake. "I'm in 407," I called behind me. "Bring the bags there, and hurry up. Don't keep me waiting." On the first floor, with Mr Loverman out of sight behind me, I took the lift the rest of the way.

This meant he did keep me waiting, of course, and it was a seriously fatigued Mr Loverman who finally staggered into my room, some five minutes later, dropping the cases exhaustedly in the middle of the floor. I snorted derisively.

"Where have you been?" He was too out of breath to answer, and stood pathetically before me, head bowed, and nearly tearful, his lungs heaving as he fought for air. Silly little man. He was out of his depth, unsure what to do next, unaware of the conventions in this new arrangement, and in search of guidance from his Mistress. He looked desparately uncomfortable, and I knew that what he craved was order, to be told what to do.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" I admonished him. "Get out of those clothes."

He looked at me in consternation, not understanding and seeking clarification.

"Today's rule, Mr Loverman: when we are alone, out of work, you will always be naked unless I say otherwise. Anything else would be disrespectful to me. Now strip." He looked uneasily at the door, which was still open. I followed his eye. "Well," I said, "since you were clearly born in a barn and don't know how to close doors behind you, you'll just have to put up with that, and hope nobody comes by. Get on with it." I headed towards the bathroom, to check the facilities.

When I returned, Mr Loverman was standing in the middle of the room, naked as the day he was born and eyeing the door nervously, his cock already at half mast.

"You can put that thing away," I said dismissively, pointing at it. "You won't be getting to play with that for a while. Now, I want you to unpack my cases. Start with that one," I pointed to the smaller of the two cases which were still lying on the carpet. I watched with wry amusement as he placed it on the bed, opened it and reverentially took out my underwear, placing it in a drawer beside the bed, surreptitiously stroking his hand over the silky fabric.

"Do you like my knickers, Mr Loverman?" I asked.

"Yes, Miss, he replied.

"Would you like to lick them?"

"Yes, Miss."

"Well, you can't. They're clean. Put them away." My brusqueness surpised him, and he dropped the knickers into the drawer like a child caught with his hand in the sweetie tin. He continued unpacking my clothes, hanging my conference skirts and blouses in the wardrobe and unfolding my evening dress for the conference dinner the following night. It was gorgeous, black and slinky, three quarters length and very, very sexy. It had a plunging neckline which showed my meagre cleavage to good effect, emphasising what little there was.

"And do you like my dress, Mr Loverman?"

"Yes, Miss. It's beautiful."

"Yes it is, isn't it. One of these days we'll get one like it for you." I had no idea where that idea came from; I had not previously considered it, but as the words escaped, unbidden, from my mouth I began to conjure up some enticingly intriguing possibilities. Mr Loverman, on the other hand, looked genuinely alarmed.

"Hurry up," I chided. "Get the other one unpacked now." This, of course, was the one containing nothing but blankets. I watched with wry amusement as a look of utter bafflement crossed his face. He pulled the top blanket out, looking for something underneath, assuming, perhaps, that it was for padding, only to be confronted by another blanket, and another. He looked at me, perplexed.

"Useless, isn't it?" I replied laconically. "I just brought it to give you something heavy to carry." His face was priceless, as the realisation dawned that I was toying with him, forcing him into strenuous activity for no other reason than my own amusement. Such are the ways to reinforce one's dominance over someone; such lessons are vital if the subject is to learn his place. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"No, Miss," he said, and put the blankets in a cupboard. It was an important moment, I felt, the moment when Mr Loverman realised that my dominance of him was total, and not merely sexual, that he was my plaything and I could amuse myself with him in whichever way I desired. His mute acceptance of this fool's errand confirmed his status: he was mine. The rest of the evening was going to be fun.