EXTRACT FOR
The Auction
(Miranda Birch)

The doorbell rang just as Miranda Cobbett was about to start thrashing her slave-boy. 



"Oh botheration! Who on earth can that be?" she said out loud, stalked over to the cane rack and replaced the nice whippy rattan she had selected. 



Miranda was a well-preserved blonde lady in her forties, full-figured but far from fat. Although at home, she was wearing heels and a smart two-piece. There was a string of pearls about her neck, and also a small silver key on a silver chain. 



She left the naked male still crouching in position -- he knew better than to move a muscle without being told -- and went to answer the door. 



"Oh, Lucy! I wasn't expecting you! But how nice! Come in, come in!" Miranda was always delighted to see her niece. Lucy Cobbett was a school-leaver, slim, blonde and full of life. She was wearing bright orange Lululemon yoga pants and a top that might as well not have been there. Oh dear! Miranda suppressed a comment, and escorted her young visitor through the hall-way and into the parlour. 



"What are you up to, Auntie?" 



"Oh, just about to punish my slave-boy, I'll be with you in a few moments." 



She said it in a deliberately blasé way. Lucy was suitably impressed, as she was meant to be. 



"Oooooh! Can I see him? I've never seen a male slave before!" 



"Mmmm... I'm not so sure... are you eighteen yet?" 



"Auntie! I'm NINETEEN next month!" 



"Oh, heavens, so you are! How time flies!" 



Miranda sighed lightly, as though reluctantly acceding to the anticipated request. 



"Well, come along then, you inquisitive little minx!" 



Back to the scullery she went, accompanied by her niece. The scullery was Miranda's place of choice for punishment and where she kept most of the instruments of correction. Well, her slave-boy spent a lot of time here, after all: washing, ironing, and so on; and she was sure it did him good to see the formidable array of canes, straps and whips that she had collected over the years. A constant reminder right before his eyes of precisely what awaited him should he fail to please in any way! 



Lucy's eyes widened as she saw the naked male in position on the floor, nose to the bare stone flags, rump thrust up high. Miranda took up the new rattan again and swished it through the air, evoking a "whoah!" of jocular admiration from Lucy. Miranda smiled. 



"Apparently this used to be quite a common male sexual fantasy," she remarked, tapping the cane lightly on the naked male's taughtly-upthrust buttocks as she spoke. 



"Really?" asked Lucy, surprised, looking down at the crouching wretch below them. 



"How could anyone dream of wanting this?" 



She gestured at Miranda's slave, who had begun to tremble slightly, perhaps with the effort of maintaining position, perhaps in anticipation of the agony soon to come -- or perhaps a bit of both. 



"Well, quite! I think perhaps it goes to show that there's a big gap between fantasy and reality, for one thing. Although I doubt very much whether any of them wanked themselves off imagining quite the existence K2619A here lives." 



She kicked the kneeling male in the side, not too hard. He gave an involuntary grunt of surprise. 



Lucy giggled at her aunt's use of such old-fashioned vulgarity. 



"Yeah, I'll bet!" she said, still looking down at Miranda's slave. "How long is this one's sentence, anyway?" 



"Oh, I've got this one for life -- if I want," replied Miranda airily.