EXTRACT FOR
Catherine's Conquest; or, the Booby Trap
(Miranda Birch)

No sooner were they back in their hotel room, than Robert was kneeling on the floor, nose down in the thick pile carpet, stark bollock naked but for his restrainer. It was a posture Catherine had ordered him into -- and he had complied at once. Weakness? Willingness? Who knew? Certainly Robert didn't. He simply felt utterly lost, a pawn on this young woman's chess board, with no choice but to move as directed. 



"You admit your disobeyed my orders by drinking?" 



"Y-yes, Madam. I'm sorry. My nerves -- you understand?" 



"The fact that you addressed me incorrectly is forgiveable, at this stage of our relationship anyway. Direct disobedience is not!" 



"I... I'm sorry, Madam. It was stupid of me." 



"Very stupid, slave. You are now going to be punished for it." "P-punished? What do you mean... M-madam..." 



"I should have thought even you understood the meaning of the word punished, Robert. It is something designed to improve your behaviour in future, and make sure you don't disobey me again. 



"Oh, I won't... I mean... I'll try not to anyway. Oh... please... what are you going to do?" 



"Whip you," stated Catherine easily. "Not too severely, since you're not yet used to it. But don't think, in future, I won't whip you severely, if I deem it necessary." 



"Wh-whip me?" whimpered Robert. "I... I don't believe it..." 



He lifted his face off the carpet and turned it towards the expensively-clad young woman behind him. He cringed at the sight of the slim, tightly-plaited riding crop she held in her right hand. 



"You can't mean it!" 



But he saw the cruel, scornful smile on that mouth he adored so much; and knew that she did mean it! 



"Get your nose back into the carpet, and keep your hindquarters up!" came the command. 



Sick at heart, Robert obeyed. How in God's name could this be happening to him? Was it worth it? This was beyond humouring her, this was serious. At first, he had only half believed that 'Marriage Pact' Catherine had outlined; now he was being forced to realise she meant it. And they weren't even married yet! Possible rewards; certain penalties. It seemed so far, there were only penalties! 



"P-please... Catherine... must you?" he whined. 



"Because you have once again addressed me incorrectly, I shall increase your punishment," came that calm voice from above. "Now, Robert, let's see if you're as weak as you look," Catherine raised the crop, eyes glowing with delight. It was a moment she had waited for -- oh for so long! 



Robert, ground his teeth and clawed his nails into the carpet. I'll show her, he told himself. Yes, I'll show her. I'll show her I'm not the weakling she thinks I am! 



Catherine gazed with bubbling delight at the cringing creature she now had in her power. It had been a long road and she had planned skillfully. Her estimate of Robert's character had proved correct. He was a pitiful weakling; putty in her hands. Tomorrow he was going to sign an agreement to make over half his fortune to her as soon as they were married -- plus a wife's allowance of thousands a week. With that signed would come the wedding.