EXTRACT FOR
Mistress Emma
(Miranda Birch)

Next morning I woke up rather late, and with a jolly sore head to boot. I had Ron, my personal slave you  will remember, attend me in the shower, where I gave several cuts of my whip for carelessness. Drying  me, he received much the same treatment. And after that, still nude, I gave him a good six hard across the  arse which did little to relieve my hangover but made me feel better about sharing the pain! I know you  like hearing about this stuff, so I shall give you a `blow by blow' account!  "You are still not making the required effort, slave," I said coldly.  Nonsense as it happens, he was trying his best I am certain, but whatever!  "I am going to give you half a dozen to help you buck your ideas up," I continued.  He just gaped at me. But newbie or not, he already knew better than to answer back.  "Turn round and bend over!" I ordered in my best bossy voice. He obeyed at once.  "To make it easy for you, you can hold on to the back of that chair."  Wasn't that nice of me? Sort of a velvet domme really, aren't I? (giggle)  "I want you to count each stroke, and thank me for it." I added on the spur of the moment, and then  without further ado:  THWACK!  "Oww! One. Th-thank... thank you, Miss."  THWACK!  "Ooow-eeeh! Two! T-thank... thank you, Miss."  THWACK!  "Ooowwww! Three!"  "This, Ron, will help you to make that extra effort, won't it?"  "Yes Miss! Thank you, Miss!"  THWACK!  "Awwhhh! Four! T-thank... thank you, Miss."  THWACK!  "Uuuhhhhhh! F-five! Thank you, Miss."  THWACK!  "Eeeehhh! Six! Th-thank... thank you, Miss."  I was sorely tempted to continue, but I tossed the crop aside. My head was still throbbing, but I felt rather  better. A pain shared is a pain halved! Ron was snivelling quietly, more in self-pity than pain I rather  think.  "Oh, stop snivelling. And stand up."  He straightened up, hands gingerly on his stinging, throbbing rump.