Tara and Nadia glanced at each other and grimaced at the tediousness of it all. The boring
‘Meet and Greet’ with their fellow trainees, the too long speeches from the owners and now
the Headmistress, and the fact there were no seats anywhere for them to sprawl in, were
too much. Tara yawned theatrically, ostentatiously patting her mouth with her hand, for
Nadia’s amusement. Nadia grinned in reply -- until Lucia’s harsh voice broke the party’s
ambience.
“YOU!” Lucia yelled from the podium, “What’s your name?” Her accusing eyes and
pointing finger bored into Tara’s shocked soul.
“Tara Montgomery,” Tara responded, once she’d recovered from her surprise at being
caught out.
“Well, Tara,” Lucia said with a grim smile, “you will be the one who breaks the ice
this time. Congratulations.” She motioned to one of the Instructors standing against the
wall to bring Tara forward.
“What have I done?” Tara cried, as the Instructor grabbed her arm.
Lucia waited till Tara and the Instructor were both on the podium beside her before
replying.
“You chose to advertise your boredom to the world,” Lucia said. “That isn’t the kind
of behaviour we want in our trainees. In fact, it’s the opposite of what we expect. Our
trainees will go everywhere with their Masters and many of the functions they attend will
be even longer than this. A bad mannered slave will reflect badly on their Master and,
ultimately, on ASTA. We won’t let that happen.” She swept her gaze across the upturned
faces, many looking guilty as well, picking out Tara’s friend Nadia who stared back
blankly, showing no discernible emotion.
“Have you anything to say in your defence, Tara?” Lucia asked, with enough menace in
her voice to preclude all but the most iron-clad excuse being offered.
Tara blushed and hated herself for blushing. She shook her head in reply.
“I’m afraid we didn’t all catch that, Tara,” Lucia said sweetly.
“No,” Tara muttered.
“Or that,” Lucia persisted. “We like good clear answers here in the Academy so let’s
try again. Do you have anything to say?”
“No,” Tara replied.
“No, what?”
Tara hesitated. She wished she’d been paying more attention to the earlier speeches
because she was sure there was something she was supposed to be doing or saying but
couldn’t quite remember what it was.
“No, Ma’am,” she ventured at last.
“That will do for a start,” Lucia said. “You can make your apologies after.”
After what, Tara thought briefly, very briefly because at that moment the Instructor
was turning her round to face the back wall.
“Bend over and touch your toes,” he said, in a voice that could be heard all over
the room.
“What!” cried Tara, staring at him in disbelief. This was the ‘meet and greet’ for
God’s sake. Training wasn’t on the agenda till tomorrow.
“You heard,” the man said.
Tara looked back at the crowd and looked quickly away again. She couldn’t do it, not
in front of everyone.
“We’re waiting, Tara,” Lucia said, “but our patience is very limited.” Her icy smile
was triumphant. A vindication of her belief, after meeting the lazy, stuck-up young madam
at the interview, that a sound whipping every day for a month would be a just reward. And
the same went for the friend, Nadia. In Lucia’s view they were just the sort of useless
people who should be slaves -- but sadly, in our screwed up world, were everywhere
idolised as celebrities.
Very conscious of the brevity of her thong underwear and the shortness of her tennis
skirt uniform, Tara bent forward, dipping her knees as she went.
“Legs straight,” the Instructor growled, patting her knee with a thick leather strap
he appeared to have had hidden somewhere until this moment.
Tara, blushing hotly, did her best to obey but years of indulgence had left her
unable to touch her toes that way, despite the fortune her parents had spent on ballet
classes and private gyms. As she strove to maintain the position, her worst fears were
realised. He flipped back her skirt and she was bare-bottomed in front of the class. She
could only hope it would be over quickly.
“The life of a slave is one of fortitude,” Lucia said to the class. “This young lady
imagines she will live the rest of her life exchanging sexual favours for a life of
luxury, and of course she may, as may all of you. However, there is a price to be paid and
sexual favours are only part of the price. Tara volunteered just now to give you all a
demonstration of the other part of that price.” She nodded to the waiting Instructor who
was tapping Tara’s bottom with the strap, measuring the distance and weight. “As this is a
party, just six will be enough,” she said, adding, “but make sure the message is
understood.”
The Instructor grinned, patted the strap on Tara’s quivering cheeks, and then swung
his arm back in a wide arc before delivering a full-blooded swat that left a broad red
band across the white skin.
Tara shrieked and leapt upright, clutching her posterior as if it was on fire. Waves
of stinging pain radiated from her scorched behind setting her feet dancing and her hips
shaking to throw off the hurt. She glared at The Instructor angrily until, slowly, his
cold impassive expression brought her to her senses. She was supposed to be bent over
awaiting the next lash. Well, she wouldn’t. She’d rather work in Daddy’s boring business
than this.
“We’d all like to get back to the party, Tara,” Lucia said sternly. “We can’t wait
all night for one little girl who can’t take her licks.”
Tara bent over and grasped her ankles tightly. She was determined to show she was
tough. She’d been thrown from horses often enough to know that -- and in the next few
minutes, they’d learn it too.
The Instructor patted the upturned bum, aiming for a spot an inch lower than the red
stripe, and whipped Tara again. He was a bit surprised when she stayed in place and he was
able to repeat the dose four more times without interruption.
“That’s better,” Lucia said, when the Instructor stepped back and gave the audience
a good view of the fiery buttocks glowing before them. “Nobody likes a cry baby. You may
return to the floor now, Tara, but mind your manners when you get back there. I can see
everything from this spot.”
Blinking back tears that she was determined not to shed, Tara straightened up and
walked stiffly, head held high to stop anyone sneering, back to her place beside Nadia.
The audience silently parted to let her through, unwilling to be next. It was what they’d
signed up for but now they’d seen it for themselves it wasn’t something they’d choose to
earn lightly.
Nadia and Tara exchanged glances but kept their faces expressionless, knowing from
schooldays that Lucia, like any teacher, would be looking for an excuse to punish the
wrongdoer’s partner as well. When the two had wound each other up into applying to ASTA,
they’d both agreed it couldn’t be worse than the strict, expensive school they’d both
attended. It seemed they were wrong. Their old school still used corporal punishment,
that was true, but the teachers were women and the application private, away from the
prying eyes of the rest of the class. Only the wait outside the office was public and, if
you did it right, it earned you admiration from your fellows rather than shame.
“Now,” Lucia continued, when she was sure the two friends were not going to give her
any further trouble, “to continue. Where was I before I was so rudely interrupted? Oh,
yes. I remember. For the rest of this evening, you and the staff will mingle. You can ask
questions and, as promised, if you don’t like what you hear, see or experience this
weekend, you can leave. However, if you turn up for your first class Monday morning, you
must stay for the whole training so be sure you learn all you can and quickly. To aid your
learning, tonight as every night at ASTA, you will be spanked soundly before bedtime. The
floor, and the bar, is open. You have chosen an interesting and rewarding future, good
luck in it.” She nodded dismissal and stepped away from the podium.
For a few seconds, the room remained motionless. The trainees were too, still shocked by
their first inkling of what lay in store for them all, then, slowly, they came to life.
“That didn’t look funny,” Nadia commented to Tara.
“It wasn’t,” Tara replied grimacing. “It hurt like hell, much worse than school.”
“She said, ‘only six’ so we can expect more in future,” Nadia continued. “Shouldn’t
we get the fuck out of here while we can?”
Tara didn’t reply at once. “Let’s get a drink and talk about it,” she said, setting off
for the bar. “We’ve never turned down free drinks before, let’s not start now.”
“Okay,” Nadia replied hesitantly. Tara seemed fine but Nadia hadn’t liked what she’d
seen. She felt getting out before bedtime would be the best solution and drinking too much
would prevent that.
“It was okay,” Tara said brightly, realising her friend was genuinely worried.
“Really, it hurt but not so much I want to leave. It was the shock of what happened more
than anything. You’ll see. It’s okay.”
Nadia doubted she would take it so well but grinned confidently in reply. Just let
them try and wallop her and they’d get more than they bargained for.
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