EXTRACT FOR
Naked Captive
(Miranda Birch)

The last day of school arrived. Miss Hillary Markham and Bill Taylor met discretely. No point in causing gossip, she had thought. She drove him to her house, quite a way outside town. Miss Markham lived in a large, old-fashioned house left to her by her late mother. It was much bigger than she needed. There was a large basement, divided into several rooms. It was down there that Miss Markham lead her secret life. One not at all to be expected of a respectable lady school-teacher. But Bill Taylor was going to find out a lot about that secret life, over the summer holidays. 



Once there, she led him downstairs straightaway, and into the second-largest basement room, the one she called her "holding room." No point in letting him see the playroom just yet, she thought. All in good time. The holding room was pretty bare, not much in it. It did have a lockable door, which came in handy sometimes. Like now. 



"Strip off!" she ordered, curtly. 



Bill looked at her. 



"Eh?" 



She fetched him a clatter across the ear. 



"Oh!" he raised a hand to his smarting head. 



"Strip right now -- or you'll be stripping for the showers in the Scrubs before you know what's hit you!" 



Confused, Bill reluctantly began to undress. Bloody women. Maybe she did want a bit of the old whatever, after all? But she certainly didn't bloody act like it! But why else... 



"Clothes in there", commanded Miss Markham shortly, handing him a bin-bag. 



Bill Taylor did as he was told. 



"Stand up straight, don't slouch! show a bit of respect, boy!" 



Bill straightened up. Worse than the bloody army, this! 



"Now, Bill. You stand there, and don't you dare move. I'll be back in a while to begin your punishment. And i want to find you exactly where I left you!" 



And with that, she was gone from the room. Bill heard the key turn in the door behind her. What on Earth was she playing at. He stood there, in that bare room, wondering. 



Miss Markham went back upstairs, had a drink, then sat herself down and planned her evening. 



When she was good and ready, she returned to her captive, after fetching a certain special something from her 'playroom'. 



She was pleased to see Bill didn't appear to have moved. 



"This, Bill, is a Lochgelly tawse." 



She showed him the heavy leather strap. 



"I am going to start by giving you twenty from it. Across the backside. You will remain in position during that time. If you do not, I will start all over again. I don't care. I have plenty of time -- it's the holidays!" 



Bill stared at her. But he was in this deep, what else could he do now but go along? A few strokes on the arse from some bloody thing that used to be used on schoolboys, how hard could that be to take? And so much better than the alternative... Slowly he bent over, and clasped his shins -- he couldn't make it to his ankles. He felt bloody daft. 



His feelings changed abruptly as the first stroke fell across his buttocks. 



THWACK! 



He cried aloud, and stood upright. That really hurt! 



"You're getting that one again, Bill. Now back down you go." 



He hesitated, and got a stroke across the thighs. 



"Agghhh!" 



"That was for free, Bill. Now over you go, and let's get started properly, shall we?" 



Reluctantly, Bill bent. 



THWACK! 



"Agghh!" 



"that's one, Bill. Nineteen more to come."