Table Service

Conversation had ceased among the diners at the 'Queen Bee'. Even those patrons who had missed the spilling of the wine, and the outraged protest of Emmeline Hathaway - the restaurant's most prestigious client - had finally been distracted by the unmistakeable sound of a spanking in progress, and thence by the astonishing sight of its half-naked and cringing recipient.

It was only Tony Mendez's second week as a waiter, but already he had earned a reputation for clumsiness and a number of very public tongue lashings from head waitress Julia Mills. This latest incident - especially since it involved such a well known and highly valued customer - had stretched her patience to breaking point. Within moments the young man had found himself stripped of his apron, trousers and underpants and ordered to face the table with his elbows clasped behind his back.

Julia spanked hard and without pause, raising her voice over the sound of the slaps so that she could be heard at every table.

"I'm afraid we're just beginning, Anthony. We're going to get this bottom at least to the colour of the expensive claret you managed to throw over Miss Hathaway's dress - both of which, of course, you'll be paying for out of this month's wages. When we're done here - and we won't be until Miss Hathaway says so - you can spend the rest of the night washing up where you can do less damage. I'm going to stand you in front of the sink exactly as you are now, and I'll have a wooden spoon to hand in case I think you're not being careful enough."

At a nearby table, Helen O'Leary watched the proceedings with an approving smirk. "This reminds me, Peter," she said to her fidgeting companion. "Did you clean up the house today as I asked? Or is another naughty boy going to be having his bare bottom warmed when we get back?"

Peter O'Leary squirmed in his seat. He had been about to ask for the bill, but suddenly he was in no hurry. He had little appetite for the dessert awaiting him at home.