Miranda Part Two

First Line(s)It was deceptively quiet in the Country House of Wilbur Herman. Perhaps it was his absence on another of his endless business excursions. Persis grinned at Miranda and hummed: "When the Pasha's away his slaves can play." Miranda clinked her handcuffs and stuck her tongue out in reply."You both need work. You're becoming impudent." Susan told them curtly. Persis was intrigued. "You have some?""He's in the drawing room." Susan's tone was deceptively demure. "He's probably boning up on Kraft-Ebbing at the last moment."Miranda thrilled. Her training had instilled an immense confidence. She might once have scorned her new skills, but now she longed to practice them. She was something special. She was good! She felt pride. "Let us at him." She pleaded. A naked captive to be trained and sold! Miranda, seeking escape, feels the cold clutch of irons upon her limbs. The bite of cord that weals her skin. The gag that keeps her mute in agony. Seeking love, she finds intrigue and torture and strange desires. Hunted, she is led, a trophy of the chase, bound and tethered behind her captor's steed . . . In torture or in triumph, in love or pain, In anguish or in agony, Miranda is forever female. The fantasy of every man . . . and woman! As in other tales, our author shows us the naked reality of a girl enslaved.