When Patsy entered the dining room the master was seated at the head of the table at the far end and two girls seated on either side of the long polished mahogany table. He was naked from the waist up, his broad chest, hairless and glistening maintained his air of command. She walked self-consciously to the nearest place setting, all eyes upon her and her heels clicking embarrassingly noisily on the wooden floor. Patsy could feel her cheeks reddening as she sat and pulled her chair closer to the table, it couldn’t have been a more strained and humiliating beginning to the meal. “We await one other,” the master stated coldly and looked to the empty place setting, the displeasure he felt sounded clearly in his voice. He then forced a smile and signalled to the hovering waiter to indicate that he should serve. “I trust that your rooms are comfortable and to your liking?” The girls all nodded and muttered their confirmation readily. “Following dinner I should like all of you girls to gather together in the TV lounge, chat and get to know one another for you will need to rely on each other during your training.” He nodded to Patsy, “state your names in turn and then the introductions are over and we can eat.” “Patsy,” she said and flushed. “Cherry,” the petite little blonde said brightly. “Anne,” The tall redhead said in a crisp and cultured accent. “Bel – short for Bella, my father is Italian,” the olive skinned girl said, flicked her raven black hair back of her face and flashed a huge smile that showed the white of her teeth. “Carrie,” the shy, mousy-haired girl said almost as an apology. “Good,” the master said as the plate of soup was put down on the table before him, “during dinner…” The door burst open and the girl rushed in, her face was flushed and she was panting hard. “Sorry,” she offered nervously as she walked to the table, “I couldn’t find the dining room.” The girl drew back her chair and made to sit down. “Others did,” the master stated coldly and then snapped, “don’t sit.” His wild stare at the girl made the blood run cold, all girls present felt icy tingling run up their spines. “It is a blatant discourtesy and most offensive to me that you are late, I simply will not tolerate tardiness,” his tone turned even more severe, “stand at the other end of the table facing me.” The girl, stunned by his reaction, meekly complied and positioned herself as instructed, looking down the long table toward the group. The master stood, accepted the riding crop from the waiter and strode purposefully to stand next to the trembling girl. “Place your hands on the table and bend over,” the master said firmly. The girl shook her head, eyeing the long riding crop nervously. His reaction was swift and stunned all present. His left hand clamped around the back of her neck and forced her face down onto the hard wooden surface of the table. His right arm drew back and up above his shoulder and then he swung down to land an almighty hard lash of the crop on her backside. The girl screamed a pained wailing as the burning pain seared through her backside, her thin trousers doing little to cushion the blow. “Never!” he bellowed, “Never show such disrespect to me again!” He lashed her again, a brutal and sickening thwack that echoed around the large hall. All of the watching girls started in shock with the severity of each lash he laid on her, they sat opened mouthed and horrified as he thrashed the young girl soundly.

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