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It was red, with vivid handprints all over. ‘That’s right’ said Katherine, ‘she’s had a good hand spanking in her room, while you were all having dinner. You all got one from me sooner or later, although it didn’t take one or two of you very long to get the wrong side of me.’ Sara blushed furiously, as Katherine shot her a pointed glance. ‘But the full penalty for alcoholic or narcotic contraband is, and always has been, this – a public caning on the bare bottom. Brace yourself Natasha.’

The brunette’s hands were placed on the chair seat, and her fingers tightened around the edges. Katherine lined the cane up along the centre of both cheeks, held it still for a second, drew it back, then swished it across Natasha’s bottom with a mighty whistle and crack. ‘Aaagh!’ the poor girl screamed.

‘Keep still! Count it!’

‘Oh! One… thank you, Katherine!’ Natasha’s beautiful voice, normally used to pump out rock numbers or power ballads, was thick with real pain and emotion. Katherine gave her a few seconds before delivering the second stroke. ‘Aaah! Two, thank you Katherine!’ Another moment of brief respite, then the cane cracked across the slim but curved cheeks once again. ‘Oooh! Three, thank you Katherine!’

‘Good girl. Halfway there’ said Katherine, as she paused to stroke the abused and striped bottom, making its owner shiver in fear. ‘I hope you’re all paying very close attention’ she added, addressing her ashen-faced and silent audience. ‘This is what would happen to each and every one of you if you’re caught with booze or drugs.’

She took her left hand away from Natasha’s skin before the cane swiped down for a fourth time. ‘Eeeeah! Four, thank you Katherine.’ Natasha’s feet drummed on the floor. She was in real pain.

‘I don’t care if you are a multi-million selling pop star, or a top soap actress, or a posh bitch with a trust fund, you’re all here to be taught that there are limits…’ The cane punctuated Katherine’s sentence. ‘…And you must all learn not to cross them.’

‘Five, thank you Katherine’ Natasha sobbed, clearly in tears. She was allowed a little longer before the cane crashed down for the last time. ‘Aaah! Six… six, thank you, Katherine.’ Her voice tailed off into a pathetic snivel.

But Katherine was unmoved. ‘Stand up’ she snapped. Natasha did so, stiffly. ‘Pull your knickers up. And your trousers.’ Moving awkwardly, the girl obeyed. ‘Turn around.’ She shuffled round to face the audience, her make-up ruined by her tears. Katherine put her fingers under Natasha’s chin and lifted it to look straight into her beautiful green eyes. ‘God, look at the state of you! Well, let it be a lesson to you – all of you – don’t drink the wine if you can’t pay the fine. Now get off to bed, and don’t show your face till breakfast.’

As Natasha slunk out the room, one hand rubbing her bottom and the other rubbing her eyes, Sara checked her Cartier watch. It was barely seven! She was not sure which would be worse, the pain of the caning or the humiliation of being publicly sent to bed like a naughty child. Then she remembered how much a simple spanking had hurt, and guessed she would take the early-to-bed-with-no-supper option any day. So much so that, even as the other girls switched on the TV in the corner, or reached onto a shelf for a collection of board games, she too decided on a very early night.

The turbulent emotions caused by the events of the last few hours had exhausted Sara and she dozed off almost immediately, then slept like a log till she was woken by the early sunlight filtering through the thin curtains. She was used to waking up in strange bedrooms, either alone or with a new male companion, and for a moment she wondered where she was. Then the remains of a dull ache in her bottom reminded her.

She stumbled out of bed and wrapped herself in a silk robe, then picked up her towel and sponge bag and headed for the bathroom. She was relieved to find no one else using it yet, and even more pleased to discover there was plenty of hot water. She spent longer luxuriating under the hot jets than she really needed to, and only got out when a knock on her cubicle door told her others wanted to use the it. She quickly wrapped herself in her towel to shield her modesty, before grabbing her robe and scampering back to her room past three surly looking girls, who shot her annoyed glances as she went.

She planned to have breakfast alone again, and had almost finished her cereal when a voice interrupted her thoughts. ‘Mind if I sit here?’ Sara looked up to see Natasha standing beside her with a tray of food.

‘Of course.’ Sara was taken by surprise, but indicated the spare chair opposite her. She noticed Natasha wince as she parked her bottom on the hard seat. This morning she was really dressed down, wearing baggy jogging bottoms and a hooded lop, as if she were about to go running. She wore no make-up at all.

‘Thanks’ the beautiful singer whispered. ‘After last night I think everyone’s avoiding me. They probably don’t know what to say.’

‘Does it still hurt?’ This was all Sara could think of herself.

‘I’ll say! I slept on my tummy all night! And the humiliation – honestly, I cried myself to sleep.’ Sara could see by the redness of her eyes that Natasha was not kidding.

They chatted happily for ten minutes, until they realised they were the last in the dining room. As they got up to leave Katherine appeared and walked straight to them. ‘Sara, you’ll come with me right now.’ Her tone was curt and clipped, brooking no dispute.

‘Is there something wrong?’ Natasha asked, apparently anxious to defend her new friend, who had been frightened into silence.

‘This doesn’t concern you. You’ve got a class in reinforcing a positive self-image to get to, and you’ve been in enough trouble with me already. I suggest you get to it.’ Suitable chastened, Natasha hurried away, casting a nervous glance at Sara as she went. ‘Now follow me’ Katherine ordered the frightened It Girl.

The older woman led the way to the bathroom, where she flung open the door. ‘I believe you are responsible for this’ she said. The floor was soaked, with a trail leading to the cubicle Sara had used half-an-hour ago. The basin she had used when she cleaned her teeth and prepared her face before breakfast was in a similar slate, with smear marks around it and some discarded make-up packets on the shelf in front of the mirror.

‘I – I think I did use that shower and basin’ Sara stammered, ‘but haven’t the cleaners…’

‘Haven’t the cleaners picked up your mess for you?’ Katherine finished the sentence for her. ‘At the Abbey we don’t have cleaners. The emphasis is on taking responsibility for your own actions, whether that means cleaning up after yourself in the bathroom or acknowledging you’re to blame for your addictions. This is as good a place to start. You’ll find the cleaning gear in that cupboard.’

‘You mean you want me to…’

‘Mop, bucket, cloths and cleaning fluid. And I suggest you put on an older pair of jeans than those. Even I know that designer label retails at a hundred and fifty pounds a pair, and those are almost new. Same goes for that smart sweater.’

‘But… but these are the oldest clothes I have! I give all my old stuff to charity shops once the right people have moved to new designs.’

‘You have no idea how pretentious you sound, my sweet. Okay, if you have no suitable working clothes, you’ll have to do it school PE style.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘In your bra and pants.’ Sara stared at her in horror, but Katherine cut off any further protest. ‘You’re going to do it, so if I were you I would do it now, because you’re getting very close to doing it after you’ve had my hand on your bottom again. And this time I won’t be so gentle.’