The scrabble to come up with a suitable implement for thrashing the Princess was fast and furious.
Trousers could have been falling down everywhere as belts were removed; some of leather, others of rope and servants were sent scurrying for much more 'rigid' devices.
A broadsword was offered up to an amused Lucius who politely refused and then a pitchfork, which had him howling with mirth.
'Why ever do you keep that in here?' he asked, eyes sparkling.
'To remove louts like 'im Sire,' came the response, as he pointed at Mr velvety flat out and snoring on the floor.
'Ahh,' nothing wrong with a friendly poke at closing time, Lucius surmised.
Byron having made a run to the stables for his Master's crop re-entered the auction room flushed and panting. The door slammed behind him and he pushed the latch firmly to.
Lucius raised one eye slowly up towards him from the dais.
'Oh Bloody Hell,' he cursed under his breath, having just realised what the 'look' meant. He'd forgotten he was supposed to be rather heavily into his cups.
Byron dropped to his hands and knees and made an ostensible drunken crawl down the aisle, receiving a few 'helpful' kicks of jeering encouragement along the way, knocking him black and blue. Why was there always a downside to cunning plans?
Finally reaching the edge of the stage, very relieved no-one's foot had found any of his more delicate appendages he handed the crop forward to Lucius with a glare and an award winning slurred speech:
'Taaaa Daaaaa.'
Lucius couldn't help a grin as he took the wicked looking, slim leather crop into his keeping.
'Thank you dear boy,' the Prince said, his eyes already returning to Rosalind's pale flesh, 'you have my permission to pass out at your leisure.'
'Yes Siiiirre,' slurred Byron whilst thinking darkly 'what and miss all the action? You must be flipping joking.'
A great performance then ensued of the valet, half stumbling, half crawling back to his chair in which he proceeded to obediently collapse into. Shutting his eyes, Byron would have started snoring loudly, if he didn't already know he'd get a clout for it later.
* * *
Lucius meanwhile was fully occupied on the task at hand.
'As our slave Princess is a novice,' he addressed the crowd, 'we'll just thrash her arse today.'
He undid both of the eye bolts above the Princess' head, releasing her arms. Immediately she tried to blindside him with a manacled wrist. Lucius, having expected it, twisted both wrists behind her and pushed them up high, causing her to howl in pain.
'Make that back AND arse.' He yelled menacingly in her ear to much applause.
'You can't do this!' wailed Rosalind, now completely immobilised with her face being pressed hard into the cold stone wall as Lucius turned her around. She could feel the soft skin of her cheek grinding against the abrasive surface, her arms protesting violently as she was resecured but this time with back towards the audience.
'Made that BACK, ARSE AND THIGHS,' Lucius roared in her ear. 'Feel free to keep going, the more body parts the merrier I say.'
As it happened Rosalind's face was pressed that tightly into the wall, Lucius leaning his weight against her to secure the eye bolts, all she could do was moan weakly in response.
The Prince stood back to admire the ivory expanse of soft, unblemished and delicate satin flesh before him. What bliss it was, to be the first to mark it.
Firstly, as a test stroke for his audience, but in reality to see whether his new slave would wince or not, he let the crop whistle through the air.
Rosalind's face snapped back over her shoulder and then, curiously, stayed there as if goading him to start. Her eyes sparked pure fury and fire, flames leaping from them trying their best to scorch him. Lucius had never had a slave before who wanted to watch as the whip came down upon them and as his dark eyes connected with her tempestuous ones, he felt a sharp stab of desire slice through him. Damn, he was REALLY going to enjoy this. With no further ado, the crow flew.
SMACK.
Rosalind had to bite down hard on the howl she wasn't prepared to share with an audience.
