Wednesday 24th November, Istanbul

Dear Diary,

I have been kept on a tight rein since the episode with the Australian boys. I have hardly even had a chance to write much here.

I did keep insisting that I was a grown woman and that I could do what I liked, but Mr Khan did not seem very impressed with that suggestion and I got shouted at a lot in Turkish. It wasn’t that I was scared exactly, but I thought it better to do as I was told.

He did keep saying that things were going to change and when I asked him about it he just said to wait and see.

Then I found out.

As I write this I am sitting, or rather not quite sitting, on a pile of pillows in my room. Yes you have guessed, I have been spanked again and jolly hard this time. I have only just been released from the corner and as I was in the ladies room downstairs all afternoon with all Mrs Khan’s sisters, aunts and female neighbours all laughing at me while I stood where they could all see my red bottom.

There was one other person present, the one who spanked me.

I was mopping down the steps to the bar, which is about as far out of the door as I have been allowed lately when I heard a familiar voice say: “Hello Paula.”

I cringed at first and really did not dare look. When I did, I was confronted with Aunt B standing in the street. I said hello back.

“Don’t you hello me young lady.” It’s almost her stock phrase. I knew then that I was for it.

At first everyone was smiles. Mr and Mrs Khan came out and shook Aunt B’s hand and everyone was all-nice. But then Mr Khan took Aunt B to one side and, I guess, told her what I had been up to.

“Paula.” Her voice could make a sergeant major quake. Normally I would run about then but Mrs Khan was blocking the door. So I walked like a condemned man over to where they were talking.

“You know what this is don’t you young lady?” She was holding out her hairbrush right there in the bar where everyone was watching. I could have died.

I opened my mouth to argue my case with a calm and reasonable grown-up response. Really I did. But all that came out was something like: “Please Aunt B I’m sorry.”

I sounded like a little kid even to me.

Then Aunt B took me by the scruff of the neck and propelled me into Mrs Khan’s parlour. I went from barmaid to bare-bottomed over Aunt B’s lap in about a minute flat. I have no idea how she does it.

Mrs Khan stood watching in the door with her arms folded with a grim look on her face as I was spanked. And boy was I spanked. I couldn’t stop yelling and I started crying right away.

At first I could hear the men laughing from the bar just beyond the door but pretty soon my world was just, bottom, hairbrush and the pain where they collided.

I was still crying when Aunt B put me in the corner. In fact I cried for ages, until Aunt B threatened to spank me in the bar if I wasn’t quiet.

It was horrible. I had to stand there while they all had coffee.

It’s just not fair.