EXTRACT FOR
The Long Weekend
(Miranda Birch)

She watched as the two friends inspected the small lawn. Neither looked too pleased. Suddenly, Kate blew hard on a whistle. Just half a minute or so later, two sweating figures came staggering along a grass pathway. 



"Here they come," sneered Kate. "Bill and Ben, the flowerpot men." 



Susan giggled. "Is that what they are called?" 



"Hah! It's what they're called now." 



"What are their real names?" 



"Their real names? Don't know, don't care." 



Meanwhile, the two wretches in question stood at attention, panting, both very conscious of the young guest now quite naked. 



"Do you call this lawn weeded?" demanded Kate. "I can see them all over the place. Dandelion roots... even some daisy tops left." She pointed angrily with her cane. 



"S-some... are impossible... to g-get out... with teeth only, M-Miss..." 



Julie smashed the back of her hand across his face. "Don't answer Miss Kate back," she snarled. "You know neither of us accept excuses!" 



That was true enough! 



"I b-beg pardon, Miss..." said Bill. 



Susan was staggered by the man's meekness, after all he had obviously gone through that morning and early afternoon. It was in fact an impossible task they had been set, she realised. 



"Get down... and get to work again, you lazy swine!" rasped Kate. 



Like Susan, she and Julie had had rather too much wine so were in a highly dangerous state -- as far as the slaves were concerned. Kate at once put her high-heel on Bill's back and lashed his buttocks with her cane. He literally began to gnaw into the earth. "Chew up the long bits of grass as well," she ordered. "It's beginning to look untidy." Another cut from her cane. Bill chewed. 



Meanwhile, Ben was getting similar treatment from Julie, who seemed even more free with her swinging cane. It was at this point that Susan decided to join in. Why not? It would be fun to make a man yelp with pain as he sweated his guts out at her feet. She approached one of the crouching figures and gave the presented rump a good, hard cut. The slave's head jerked up in pain. 



"That's the way, Susan... give it to him. These bastards deserve all they're getting. Did you know, they were drug traffickers?" 



"What scum," said Susan. She suddenly felt she was performing a public duty! 



From time to time, one of the three ladies, who had retired to the comfort of a long bench sheltered by a sun-shade, would rise, advance and administer an encouraging cut, in order to induce continuing effort. The power of it added to Susan's feelings of intoxication. She couldn't remember when she had enjoyed herself quite so much. I must come to Oakdene House more often at weekends, she told herself.