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f All esearch 2008 csearchosearchl This achinese-spanking.comd For b All fr Bare searcharchinese-spanking.comasearcheisearch searchasearch Weblog ie All frchinese-spanking.comfusearch. Human n 2008 searchachinese-spanking.comasearchhsearchd For s Arrogance searchu Christinas h Human f 2008 n po For lsearch chinese-spanking.comtr Faith ed This n Faith tsearchci Faith g Spankingattractivebarefemalemanagers e Arrogance .Nchinese-spanking.comtsearchjut For h Faith r For o This nsearchpe 2008 p For echinese-spanking.com Human u Weblog Faith rchinese-spanking.comisearcha Greta y Faith psearchopsearchesearch oe Sex o Faith For hsearch pachinese-spanking.comti Spankingattractivebarefemalemanagers s Greta sh Spankingattractivebarefemalemanagers The en 2008 Weblog o Human al All o Greta fe Arrogance tu Bare e Sex o Centered This t Human rsearch Arrogance nsearch searchasearche Sex tsearchrchinese-spanking.comegirlsearch,searchs Spankingattractivebarefemalemanagers thesearche For wsearchre Bare ften phtsearchgsearcha Greta h Arrogance rs h Bare n For in Weblog ar Bare u Centered d searchit Weblog searchesearch p Spankingattractivebarefemalemanagers et 2008 ychinese-spanking.comface, long brown hair and slim figure, Sara was an attractive girl, and with enough champagne inside her she could be loud and outrageous enough to be noticed. Soon her picture was appearing in the papers, and instead of the society broad sheets, it was the gossip sections of the tabloids, those dreadful rags read by builders and car mechanics.

The tabloid reporters soon found out who she was, and once they realised she was rich, upper class and boasted a double-barrelled name, they started asking her what she thought about all sorts of issues. It seemed strange to her that they should do this, and sometimes her answers seemed to provoke great amusement from the whole nation. Sara could never really work out why, but to be honest she did not really care.

When she was offered the job of fronting The Party Scene she leaped at it. She did not need the money of course, but it was something she could do. Unfortunately it was to be her downfall. Broadcasting people drank, but they seemed far more interested in drugs, and cocaine in particular. She was not that bothered to begin with, but soon found herself dabbling when a hectic schedule put her in need of something to keep her going. Unfortunately she liked it.

She liked it so much it was impossible to keep it quiet. The newspapers got wind of it, oblique references frequently popping up. Sara was not really aware of these, but she was aware of the unsuitable men she kept waking up with. The final straw was when she made a total fool of herself in front of the world’s TV cameras at a high-profile film premiere, throwing her arms around an astonished Hollywood leading man, and gabbling incoherently about all the things she would let him do to her, if she were allowed back to his hotel room. She was supposed to be interviewing him, and her bosses were not impressed.

She expected to be fired, but what actually happened was much worse. She had signed a contract, which she had not read, and found herself being threatened with a law suit which would bankrupt her, and possibly Daddy too. The only alternative was for her to sort herself out, and this was the TV company’s way of doing that.

The limo pulled up outside the main entrance to the impressive building. It had started life as a genuine abbey, before becoming an ostentatious private residence. After falling into post-war disrepair its own salvation turned out to be the business of offering hope to rich and famous burnouts.

Not that Sara knew any of this, or would have cared if she did. She just saw it as a place where she had to spend her four-week sentence, and she wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible. She stepped out of the car as quickly as possible and was greeted by an attractive dark-haired woman in her mid-thirties, who appeared to be waiting for her on the large stone steps.

‘Welcome to the Abbey, Sara’ she said, her voice bright and cheerful. She wore a modern white nurse’s uniform of tunic and trousers. ‘Come with me, and I’ll take you to your room. I’m Katherine, by the way.’ She turned and led the way into the house. Sara followed, as the driver took Sara’s cases from the boot, before getting back into the limo and disappearing down the drive. Katherine stopped at the large oak doors and turned to look at the three large cases. ‘What about your luggage?’ she asked.

Sara was stunned. ‘You’ll be sending someone down for them, surely?’ she said.

‘Oh, of course, the bell boy’ said Katherine. She smiled again for a moment, till she realised she was not actually getting through to Sara. ‘No dear, here we encourage you to do the ordinary things for yourself. I’m afraid you’ll have to carry them on your own.’ And she turned to lead the way inside again.

Sara was about to argue, but found she had no one to argue with. Making a mental note to demand a discount, she struggled to pick up her bags.

The journey to her room was not easy. If the Abbey had a lift then Katherine was not disposed to use it, nor was she prepared to take one of the cases. After hauling them up the main ornamental staircase, which dominated the entrance hall, the exhausted socialite had to carry them up another, shorter flight to the second landing, then along that to a door numbered seven at the far end, where Katherine was waiting for her. As Sara caught up, Katherine opened the door and led the way in.

Sara followed, dumping her bags on the carpet as she stared around in breathless horror. ‘This is your room’ Katherine announced, ‘you’ll find everything you need here.’

Sara could not believe it. Not only were the curtains and bed linen the most drab and unimaginative she had ever seen, including her boarding school, it was also tiny. The narrow single bed, chair and cheap pine wardrobe practically filled it, leaving not enough room to swing the proverbial pussy. And Sara could not help noticing that there was only one door, and she was standing in it.

‘Excuse me’ she said, her tone deliberately sarcastic, ‘but where is the bathroom?’

‘Down the landing. There’s a shower and bath, and a couple of basins for every floor, so you’re only sharing with four other guests.’

Sara’s jaw dropped. ‘Share?’ she exploded, ‘share! I’m sorry, this really is unacceptable! The amount of money I – I mean, we – are paying you, the least you can do is organise an en suite room! I demand to be moved to a more suitable one immediately!’ And she turned up her little nose and threw her hands on her slim hips, in the pose which had struck terror into hotel managers from New York to Sydney, finding to their cost that the curtains were the wrong shade of green.

But Katherine was unmoved. She did not fluster an apology, or cower obsequiously. What she did was to give Sara a long hard stare. Sara was not used to that, and she found herself beginning to shake inside and out. She was not used to employees who did not back down when they were faced with the ultimate sanction of Sara not spending any more of other people’s money with them.

Finally Katherine moved. She walked towards Sara, but then stepped straight past her. Sara thought she was leaving, but Katherine had no intention of doing that. What she did was pull the door closed. Then she turned back to a very worried Sara. ‘It’s time you and I got a few things straight’ Katherine announced ominously.

The next five minutes Sara will always remember as a turning point in her life. It happened so fast; sometimes she was not even sure it all really happened, at least not the way she remembered it. When Katherine turned back into the room Sara thought she was going to push past her again. She did not expect to have her wrists seized, and feel herself being dragged towards the narrow divan.

Taking Sara by surprise, Katherine had no trouble pulling her down as she herself sat on the edge of the mattress. Sara had no idea where she was going, only that her head seemed to be going there first. Then the wind was knocked out of her, as her stomach landed on Katherine’s thighs. Her left arm was twisted neatly behind her back, and Katherine’s right leg clamped down across the backs of her thighs. Far too late to escape, Sara realised she had been put across Katherine’s lap, with her bottom unprotected and vulnerable. Sara may not have been very bright, but she knew why people put other people across their laps – to spank them.

Katherine’s hand landed on the seat of Sara’s designer label mini-skirt. She had wriggled and squealed all the while Katherine had been hauling her into position, but the shock of the first slap stunned her into silence. The second seemed to wake her up, and she began wailing, uttering the most unladylike oaths and threats she could think of. Katherine was unmoved, and the rain of heavy blows was unrelenting, as her left hand and both legs held the struggling Sara like a vice.

The spanking stopped, and so did Sara, blowing hard, pleased it was over and framing in her mind how she was going to make clear her utter shock at being treated so scandalously and disrespectfully. She thought she had the words, but her mind emptied as she felt Katherine’s fingers at the hem of her skirt. ‘No!’ she howled, twisting like fury.

‘Yes!’ said Katherine triumphantly, as the shiny snakeskin garment was pulled up. Sara’s bottom was exposed, literally. At that precise moment, and for the first time in her young life, she regretted having her thong as her underwear of choice. Katherine looked at the tiny piece of string that disappeared into Sara’s cleft, hissed ‘slut!’ under her breath, then resumed the spanking, this time on her bare bottom.

Now it really hurt, and Sara began to cry, tears of pain from the spanking, then shame when Katherine began to lecture her: ‘This is not a hotel, you are not here to be pampered; you are here to be cured of your bad habits; you are an arrogant, spoiled little bitch, and someone should have done this to you ages ago; from now, until you leave here, you will do exactly as you are told; do you understand?’

Katherine paused, and Sara tried to take advantage by squirming free. It was no good, the woman was obviously used to holding people captive whilst she handed out such undignified punishments. The torrent of slaps resumed, but much harder this time. ‘Do you understand?’ she repeated, with more menace.

‘Yes! Yes, I understand! I’ll do as I’m told!’ Sara sobbed. Suddenly she felt very exposed, almost as if she were a schoolgirl again, back under the strict guidance of her teachers. Not that any of them would have dared do this to her – Daddy would have had her out of there in an instant had that ever happened.

‘Excellent!’ announced Katherine, finishing with a volley of hard spanks that made Sara squeal again. Then she found herself being hauled upright, before being tipped backwards onto her bottom, wincing as she landed on the sore and abused flesh.

Katherine got up and headed to the door, without a trace of emotion on her stern face. She turned and looked down at the undignified heap that Sara had become, before leaving. ‘Dinner is in half an hour – the dining room is down the stairs on your left – and if you don’t turn up for a meal on time, you don’t get fed. Do you think you can follow a rule as simple as that? And you’ll eat what you’re given, no complaining because the food isn’t cordon bleu. Afterwards there’s a special treatment session in the main common room on the opposite side of the hall from the dining room. I want you there; you need to see more of our methods so you understand why it’s in your interests to do as you’re told. Don’t be late.’ And with that Katherine was gone, the door clicking behind her.

Sara finally got her breath back, and stood gingerly. She pulled down her skirt and made herself decent again. Staggering to the bathroom, and glad to find it empty, she washed her face to get rid of her tear-streaked make-up, then ran her face flannel under a cold tap and dived into a cubicle. Lifting her skirt, she applied it to her smarting bottom and sighed in relief.

Then she heard the door open and Sara froze in horror. Safe in her stall, she was hidden from view, but still did not feel up to meeting any of the other guests in this state. She heard the taps of two basins being run, along with the voices of a pair of young women, evidently here to wash their hands before dinner. But if she was alarmed at their arrival, she was to be horrified by their conversation.

‘Did you hear the racket from room seven just now?’

‘Certainly did. Sounds like Katherine had to get straight to business with the new girl. I’m not surprised though – do you know who she is?’

‘No?’

‘Only that Sara Pointlessly-Hyphenated bitch who’s all over the telly and the tabloids. That ‘It’ girl who got famous for being famous. Oh, and for having a rich daddy.’

‘Never!’

‘The very same. Had booze and drugs problems for months, apparently. The last straw was when she was caught giving some B-list pop star a blow job in the toilets of some swanky night club.’

‘Sounds like she needs Katherine’s help more than we do. I wonder how she liked her first taste of the Abbey Treatment?’

‘You heard what a fuss she kicked up. God knows what she’ll think when she sees what’s going to happen to poor Natasha this evening.’

‘Quite. Now there’s a girl who’s shoes I wouldn’t want to be in!’

The voices tailed off as the unseen girls left the bathroom. Sara emerged from the cubicle even more alarmed than before, and a little put out. She had heard that story about herself and the pop star before, and it was not true. Well, at least she could not remember doing it.

She did not have much of an appetite, but still decided to go to dinner. For all she knew, not going could give that beastly woman another excuse to smack her bottom. She found the dining room without any trouble, and was shocked, although not by now surprised, to discover it was self-service, and for some very basic food.