Go to kitchen

This is a typical mid 20th century French kitchen, with whitewashed stone walls and windows overlooking a garden. A large AGA stove and an old-fashioned fireplace, complete with kettle, offer a complete range of cooking methods. A chef oversees kitchen activity, while a few prep cooks are busy getting things ready for the next day's repast.

Augustine is here. You report to the kitchen obediently, if a little nervously.

The kitchen is filled with boisterous cooks moving about with hot pans and simmering pots. The head chef is busy scolding one of the prep cooks when he sees you out of the corner of his eye.

He glares at you and points to the floor. It takes you a moment to realize you should be kneeling. You drop to your knees and wait.

A few minutes later he snaps his fingers. “You! Yes, you, you dumb cunt, get over here and take this coffee service to the Main Hall. Make sure everyone gets served, tu comprends?”

You scramble to your feet and take the heavy coffee service from him, and you feel very small and **** as he rushes you out of the kitchen, swatting your bare ass with a ladle.

Your ass smarts from the blows.