EXTRACT FOR
Women in Charge
(Miranda Birch)

Denise arrived at the centre in good time and was escorted by a friendly guard through an iron-gated entrance. She entered reception and saw two males, naked but for tight black leather shorts, standing stiffly at attention, one each side of the reception desk. Trainees, she thought. They looked young, pale and very nervous. One of them was actually shivering. 



Once upon a time, this may have seemed rather strange. But Denise had never known any other way of life and accepted it all as perfectly natural. They learned in school that back in the bad old days, men had been in charge -- but she wasn't sure she really believed all that stuff. It just seemed too absurd 



An intercom buzzed. 



"Miss Carter will see you now, Miss," said the receptionist. 



She raised a finger and one of the near-nude males stepped forward. 



"8864! Conduct Miss Marks to the Assistant Instructress's office!" 



The manner in which she addressed the male was in sharp distinction to the friendly tone she had used 



with Denise. It was loud, stentorian, and anticipated no refusal. 



Denise saw the number blazoned on his forehead. He still stood rigidly to attention. 



"Yes, Miss," she said meekly. 



Denise rose and followed the male -- hardly more than a lad, really -- out of the room. She saw there were cane weals on the upper parts of his thighs. 



They walked along a corridor for short distance. Then the trainee stopped at a door and knocked. 



"Come..." said a familiar voice. They entered and sure enough Denise saw Helena sitting behind a large desk. She was wearing a smart blue uniform, complete with a peaked cap, and looked very official. 



"Miss Marks, Miss," announced the trainee. 



Helena nodded, smiled at Denise, and snapped a curt "that will be all!" at the trainee, who bowed, did a smart about turn and left the room. 



"Come and sit down," said Helena, smiling again. 



Denise took the chair in front of the desk. "It is good of you to see me," she said. "You must be a busy woman." 



"Yes, always something to attend to here," said Helena. "But giving young women advice on slave ownership... well, that's the sort of thing I consider `part of the job', even if it isn't, officially." She paused, and looked Denise up and down. "Finished with school, eh? I must say, you look older than your years."