Gillian stood to attention in front of the blackboard. She was getting much better at it now, her thighs were only thrashed maybe two or three times a week rather than the six or seven that was common when she was learning her role. This was supported by the fact that she now scampered around the room in a pair of tight, pink shorts as well as her pristine white T-shirt. She'd earned them by first of all learning and then more importantly, carrying out her second instruction. The first part was relatively easy, he'd bent her over her bedroom box and then paddled her bare bottom until it first went bright red, then blistered and then finally ended up a subdued, bruised purple colour. Then he'd made her stand in front of the blackboard and repeat exactly one hundred times the phrase, 'Slut always looks HIM lovingly in the eye'.

When she was done he directed her to stand in front of him with her hand held out palm upwards and supported by her other hand. Taking his cane, he fixed her eyes with his and then brought the cane whistling down onto the librarian-soft palm of her right hand. She shrieked and thrust her hand desperately under her armpit to try and alleviate the dreadful sting.

"Repeat your phrase, Slut."

Gillian realised what she'd done straightaway. The shocking pain delivered by the cane had made her look away.

"P...please, sir...It hurt so m...much, sir!"

"Repeat your phrase, Slut."

''Slut always looks HIM lovingly in the eye, sir."

"You know what 'always' means, don't you Slut? What with you being an intellectual? Going to a posh university and all?"

She nodded, tearfully. She hated it when he referred to her old life so casually.

"Y...yes, sir. Sorry, sir."

She knew he liked her to grovel. Sometimes he was lenient with her if he considered she was truly repentant. She often wondered what had made him this way, so hateful, so aggressive towards women. Did he just hate her for some reason she was unaware of, or did he hate all women? perhaps it was just ambitious, successful women that he felt intimidated by? Did he resent her university education?

No doubt that behind his emotionless mask there was some damaged little man determined to take out his pent-up frustration on her. Right now though, it wasn't a discussion she wanted to have. She just wanted to get though this dreadful business and at least make an attempt to restart her old life.

"Sorry isn't any use. I set you a challenge and you fall at the first hurdle. I can see I'm going to have to punish you again, if only for your own good."

"Please, sir...pleeeease, I'm begging you..."

"Shut up!" He ordered brusquely

He looked at his wristwatch.

"We're going to have lunch now. In one hour you're going back over your box and I'm going to paddle you again. Only much more firmly this time, it seems that's the only way to make a simple lesson fix inside your empty little head."

He leaned forward and tapped her head with a long, calloused digit.