A girl seeks temporary work and gets a surprise
By Julie Baker
My name is Hannah and I was born in Sheffield in January 1993 into a prosperous middle class family. I have two older brothers, and we all went to fee paying day schools in the city. I was academically bright and represented South Yorkshire at hockey in every school year from the age of 14. I studied English, Maths and Drama at A level and achieved an A grade pass in each subject. I accepted a place to study English at Leeds University and I graduated two summers ago with a 2:1 degree.
I had a great time during my 3 years at University and generated a large circle of friends. I would have to confess to being quite sexually active during my time in Leeds but I would not describe myself as being promiscuous. I had several boyfriends but generally avoided ‘one night stands’.
However, I was a little slow in applying for graduate jobs. My flat lease expired at the end of August 2014 and I did spend some considerable time job hunting after my final exams had finished. By the end of July I had a few ‘irons in the fire’ but nothing definite had materialised. I had been to a couple of second interviews with nothing back, but finally my student loan money was coming to an end. I could have asked my parents for a loan but I wanted to be independent if at all possible.
One day at the end of July 2014 I was walking into Leeds City Centre from my flat in Headingley. In the centre of a roundabout I spotted a small sign attached to one of the posts holding up a traffic sign. It said; ‘part time work available, good rates of pay’ and a mobile phone number to contact. I put the number into my phone and rang it that evening. A guy answered it and I explained that I had seen his notice. He gave me the name of his website and he suggested that I went onto it to fill in an on line application form.
The form was simple and asked all of the questions that you would expect. It also requested that I attach a full length photo of myself. I sent the information and the next day he phoned me. I got the impression that he was running a small agency from his house with a few employers as clients. Much of the work seemed to be short notice relief type stuff, presumably covering workers who were temporarily absent for some reason. Bar work, cleaning, receptionist, petrol stations – all the types of jobs that you would expect. The rates of pay were generally better than the minimum wage and if you were prepared to work nights, for example, the pay was quite good.
He asked me what was important to me and I replied that I wanted to earn the largest amount possible in the shortest time. He then said that he could put me in touch with a company that made short films and that I could earn up to £500 in a day. I said that I had done some acting and that this sounded promising. He said that he would get in touch with the company to give them my details but warned me that the content of the films they made included corporal punishment. Would I be OK with this? I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. There was a pause as I gathered my thoughts. I hadn’t seen this one coming, but I still said: “yes.”
I have always been comfortable with my body image. I play a lot of sport and keep myself very fit. Annoyingly at times, I have been taken as being much younger than my true age. This is probably because of my relatively lithe body shape and fresh looking face. I’m really a size 10 but occasionally have to buy an 8, so I am on the slender side. However I am fair skinned with naturally blond hair and I’m regularly told than I am a pretty girl. Sport keeps me well toned and I have curves in all the right places.
Later that day I got a call from a guy called James and he was from the production company. He asked me a few basic questions and checked with me that I knew the nature of the films they made. After a few minutes he suggested I came in to town to have an interview with him to see if I was suitable. I agreed and he gave me an address on the edge of the City Centre. He requested that I see him at 10.00 the next morning and that I bring with me my passport for proof of age.
I must confess that I was a little nervous when I woke up the next morning. I’m a self confident girl, but corporal punishment was an area that I had no previous experience in. My parents never used physical punishment on me although I did have one boyfriend who used to slap my bottom on occasions. I quite liked the sensation but I knew this would be on a different level. I guessed this work would involve some level of nudity but I have never had a particular problem with others seeing me undressed. I showered and dressed in trainers, short white socks, satin feel black bra and panties, tight fitting light blue jeans and my favourite long sleeved blue and red hooped rugby shirt.
I arrived at the address just before 10.00. It was a tall office block and I took the lift to the top floor. This company had all the rooms on this level and as I came out of the lift I was struck by the abundance of natural light. I knocked on the door marked ‘reception’ and went in. I was greeted by an attractive looking girl with dark colouring who was maybe a bit older than me, and I explained that I had come to see James. She introduced herself as Karen and asked me to wait for a few moments. I was then shown through into another office. James was a good looking guy in his mid 30s. He was sat behind a sizeable desk, which was completely clear of clutter, and he beckoned for me to sit on the upright chair opposite him. He was easy to talk to, with a ready smile and I liked him. He explained they specialised in the making of erotic films with a corporal punishment theme. Everything they did was legal and they did not get involved in what he called ‘hard porn’. All participants in the films took part legally and he did not employ any forced workers or illegal immigrants. They ran a subscription website and occasionally did films for other third parties. He said that the pay was good but accepted that this wasn’t the type of work for everybody. ”Are you OK with this?” He asked.
“Yes, I’m fine,” I said. “I need the money!”
”Alright. I’ll now need you to do a short audition,” said James. “You need to be articulate but I have already gathered that you are a good communicator. I now need to check that you are physically suitable. Please stand up and remove your jeans and panties.”
This was crunch time. If I didn’t agree then clearly there would be no money. I got up and turned my back to him. I took off my trainers and socks, placing them under the chair. I unfastened my jeans and lowered the zip. I wriggled them over my hips, down my legs and soon they were off. I folded them and placed them onto the chair. I took off my panties and placed them on the chair also. By this time I was totally naked from the waist down but my rugby shirt was more like a short dress and it was covering my naked bottom. I knew what was required though, so I hoisted the shirt upwards revealing my bottom to James. I stood there for a few moments and it seemed like I could feel his eyes looking at me in that exposed state.
”OK, that’s very nice, thank you,” he said. “You have an absolutely fantastic shape, Hannah. Please can you now bend over and touch your toes, but keep your legs as straight as possible?”
I could do this manoeuvre quite easily. I felt the skin tighten across my bottom and my shirt dropped down my back towards my head, exposing my back and part of my bra. I hoped he liked what he saw.
”Excellent, Hannah. Thanks for that. The final test is for you to bend over the end of my desk to see how that looks and I will give you 4 smacks on your bottom with my hand to see how you react and also to see how your skin colours up after a spanking. Is this OK with you?”
I agreed and walked round to the end of his desk. I had to go on tiptoes to get onto the surface and settle myself into position. I felt James raise the back on my rugby shirt exposing my bottom again. I could then feel his hand resting on my bottom. He gave me four very sharp spanks. I let out a little involuntary yelp as each one landed and it was really quite sore. He asked me to remain in position for a couple of minutes and then told me that I could get dressed. He thanked me for coming to see him and said that he would get back in touch when there was any work available. He gave me £50 for ‘interview expenses’ and I was soon on my way.
When I got home from the interview, I lowered my jeans and panties to look at my bottom in the mirror. Even after only four spanks it was bright red and I could actually see the outline of his fingers on my skin. In the next few days I did some other work for the employment agency but I was still hopeful for the big pay day from James. Nothing happened until the following week when my phone rang and I could see that it was his number. He thanked me again for seeing him and he said that I had the perfect body and personality for his work. He asked if I could go in the next day. He had a promotional film to make for a company who marketed a spanking machine which would take up the morning and, if I was OK after that, then we could make a couple more short videos in the afternoon. He said he would pay me £500 if I managed a full day satisfactorily. He also requested that I wore the same clothes that I had put on for the interview. I agreed to be at his office at 9.00am the next morning. Once again, I had that same nervous feeling when I woke up the next day. This time, though, I knew that I was in for considerably more of an ordeal than previously. The red marks had disappeared overnight following the interview but as I looked at my nice smooth unmarked bottom in the mirror I wondered what it would look like at the end of the day. I gave it a little stroke and got dressed. I was too nervous for much breakfast, so I was soon out of my flat and on my way. Karen again greeted me at their office but this time I was shown through to a large studio room at the back. The room was flooded with natural light and crammed full of equipment both for filming and for administering punishments. I had a definite knot in my stomach and it was only the thought of the £500 which prevented me from fleeing the scene.
James came in, thanked me for coming dressed as requested, then outlined the plan for the morning’s proceedings. As he had previously explained, he’d got a promotional film to make in the morning session which would divide up into three parts. To begin with, he would talk about the spanking machine and explain how it worked. He would then introduce me as his ‘spanking model’ but I wouldn’t be required to say very much at this stage. In part two, he would ask me to take off my jeans and panties and mount the spanking bench. He showed me the bench which involved a low surface at knee height to kneel on and then a longer narrow surface at waist height to lay my upper body flat on. There were two lower levels on either side to rest my elbows and upper arms. There were also ankle and wrist straps for restraining purposes. He would then set up the spanking machine and I would receive about 20 lashes on my bottom. Finally he would interview me about my experience.
He explained we could have as many takes as we needed for the first and last parts of the film, but the middle section had to be got right first time. My bottom had to be totally blemish free for this take so that the full effect of the machine could be demonstrated. A mess up here and I would be going home without pay.
He took me over to see the machine. It was mounted on a sturdy trolley and effectively consisted of a horizontal circular wheel mounted onto a motor which was controlled remotely from a laptop computer. When prompted, the wheel did a single rapid circle and there was provision to attach various spanking implements to the wheel. James said that he would be using a whipcord on me that morning. The whipcord was about a meter long, apparently made of synthetic rubber and about the thickness of a rat’s tale. He attached it to the wheel and gave it a couple of spins to demonstrate how it was flung out almost horizontally at speed.
He explained that the machine had twelve settings. 1 to 4 were very gentle, 5 to 8 were moderate and 9 to 12 were severe. He said that he would be using number 10 on me that day. The whipcord would deliver a considerable sting to my bottom but the cord itself was light and there would be little bruising. I would have the straps on and he asked me to trust him that I would be able to cope with the punishment. He also suggested that I slightly changed my position during the process so that the whipcord was not always landing in the same place. Better for me and also some of the individual marks on my bottom would be visible, which was better for the filming. I needed to look into the camera at my eye level and ensure that my hair was tied back so that it didn’t cover my face. He also asked me to look a little nervous when I was getting ready for the spanking and in pain during it, but before and after to look happy and confident.
Karen had wandered in and it became obvious that they managed to run the whole show between them. There were six cameras around the room and James explained they ran all of the time during the action. After the day’s filming they then edited the footage from each camera to make a single feature. He said he liked to have a plan for each video but preferred to work without a script to preserve realism. Everything seemed to be set up.
“Are you OK to get started, Hannah?” He said.
“Yes, let’s get going,” I replied.
Karen activated the cameras and James and I stood side by side in front of the spanking bench. He talked for about 10 minutes explaining how the machine operated and then he introduced me. He said that I would be demonstrating the effectiveness of the product and he asked me to take off my jeans and underwear. I turned around and repeated the same operation as at the interview so that I was left only wearing my rugby shirt. James guided me over to the bench and I got into position having carefully raised the back of my shirt to expose my bottom. He fastened the straps and moved the trolley into position. He then picked up the whipcord and gave it a couple of swishes through the air before attaching it to the wheel on the machine. He then re-positioned the trolley so that the cord, fully extended, just reached the far side of my bottom.
He must have been happy so far as this was the point to cut the action if we needed a retake.
He asked if I was ready and I replied: “Yes.”
My bottom was perfectly presented at the end of the bench and I had no way of protecting it from what it was about to receive. I heard the machine whirring into action and the first whipping from the cord landed on my bare bottom. I let out a short involuntary cry as the intensity of the sting had taken me by surprise. There was a gap of about ten seconds and then the next one came. Another stinger and I remembered to slightly shift my position for the next one.
They kept on coming and my bottom was getting more and more sore. I got a bit of warning each time because of the noise from the machine, but I think this actually made it worse. After twelve, I lost count and I was simply hanging on for the end. In the latter stages I was screwing up my eyes before each whipping and tears were running down my face onto the bench. It was so painful and yet the thrashing continued.
Eventually James whispered: “Last one,” and as it landed I let out another loud cry of pain.
Straps released, and I was soon standing upright in my rugby shirt ‘dress’. James handed me a tissue to wipe my eyes and we then got into the post event interview. James asked me to show my bottom to the camera and then he asked a series of questions about the experience that I had just gone through. It was soon done and Karen switched off all the cameras.
James gave me a hug and suggested that I check my bottom in the mirror. I suppose it was the regularity of the machine, but I had a well defined bright red stripe across my backside which was about three centimetres wide. The only place that you could see the individual impact marks was on the far side from the machine where the cord was whipping around more unpredictably. By this stage I was still rubbing my poor bottom with both hands and Karen offered to apply a bit of soothing oil to my fiery skin. She knelt down behind me and spent several minutes gently massaging the oil into my bottom. This did help a bit.
The machine must have been working on me for no more than five minutes. We had a couple of short breaks during the filming but otherwise the process was continuous and James didn’t require us to do any retakes. Nevertheless, the morning had gone and James declared that it was time for lunch. He was seriously pleased with me and kept on telling me how good I had been. We ate sandwiches, sausage rolls, crisps and fruit in another small room that was set up as a school classroom with pupil’s desks, a large teacher’s desk and maps on the wall. We chatted about inconsequential matters but I was constantly reminded of the morning’s activities when sitting on my rather sore bottom. ”Will you be OK for a couple more sessions this afternoon, Hannah?” James eventually asked. “I want to do two short videos for our website, if possible. These videos will be accessible free of charge but the idea is that if people like them, then potentially they will pay a monthly subscription to access the full site. I was planning one scenario with you and Karen in the roles of two girls in a boarding school at night and you get caught by the headmaster, dressed only in your nighties, smoking cigarettes. You are then taken to his study asked to remove your nighties and caned on your bottoms. I will take the role of the head. Karen will have to go first as her bottom will be clear of marks but we will need to film you from a different angle as yours won’t have recovered from this morning. Finally I wanted to do a short film of you, Hannah, dressed in school uniform, underperforming in class and getting told that you will be getting slippered. Karen will be the teacher and you will have to bend over her desk and raise the back of your skirt. You will be slippered over your knickers, so no problem with any prior marking. Does this sound OK with you?”
I must confess that I was actually getting a bit of a turn-on from the way the day was developing. Getting further punishment on an already sore bottom was clearly not going to be easy but I was up for more action and I knew that my £500 was looking increasingly secure.
The first scenario seemed a little unlikely with a male headmaster and two naked school girls, but I rationalised that we weren’t there to make a serious documentary! Also I hadn’t realised that Karen was anything more than a secretary-cum-technician but it would be interesting to see how she operated both at receiving and dispensing the punishments. Clearly, the first video meant that I, along with Karen, would be totally naked on film, but this didn’t worry me too much.
“Yes, let’s go for it,” I said.
James explained the first video would initially be shot in the other room in one corner where there were a couple of sofas. The blackout blinds would be down as the action took place during the night. Then we would transfer to James’ office, where I’d had my initial interview, for the canings. The second video would be shot in the room where we were currently having lunch.
James then suggested that I stayed where I was and read the paper for half an hour while he and Karen organised the cameras and the sets. It wasn’t long before we were ready for action again.
James disappeared into his office and Karen and I went through into the main studio room. Two short silky nighties were laid out on chairs and Karen directed me to a dark blue one. Her’s was ivory coloured. I noticed that she stripped off without a moment’s hesitation, clearly well used to this process. I also couldn’t help noticing, even from a straight female’s perspective, that she had a stunningly beautiful body with a tight, well rounded bottom that was ideal for this role. Before long we were both stood in the room dressed only in our nighties.
James soon came in dressed in a dark suit looking very authoritative. He briefed us again on what we should be doing in the first part. I could hardly believe how well each session went, although I did subsequently discover that both James and Karen had in the past trained as professional actors. I had also done some acting during my time at school, particularly for my drama A level, so maybe I shouldn’t have been so surprised.
Karen and I sat on the sofas and chatted while the cameras rolled. I don’t smoke so I only held a lighted cigarette, but Karen was quite happy to drag away on hers. Then James came in and gave a truly impressive performance of being outraged by our behaviour.
“See me in my study in 5 minutes and I will teach both of you girls a lesson you won’t forget!” With that he turned on his heel and left the room.
He quickly came back in and explained what he was looking for in part two. We then went through to his office, which could easily be taken for a head’s study, and sat on the two chairs in front of his desk. The cameras were already set up and he proceeded to give the two of us another severe telling off. ”You are both going to be caned as a consequence of your disgraceful behaviour. You will each receive six strokes on your bare bottoms. Please stand, remove your nighties and I will call you forward for your punishments.”
We did as requested, placing our nighties on the chairs. We were then totally naked facing James plus, of course, the camera. There were also other cameras to the sides and behind us, capturing the action from all angles.
“Karen, please come forward, turn around and touch your toes,” instructed James.
This she did, and her bottom was consequently turned away from me ready to receive the punishment. James left her in this position while he went to a side cupboard to select a cane. The cane was light brown in colour, about a meter long with a crooked handle and seemed to be quite flexible as he did a couple of practice strokes. He returned to stand by Karen and gave her bottom a couple of light taps.
“Six of the best, Karen, and I don’t want to hear of you smoking again.”
Six cane strokes on Karen’s unprotected bottom seemed like an awful ordeal and my turn was still to come! She was crying out with the pain and it was difficult to tell whether it was genuine or good acting. Soon it was over and she got up to return to her position by me. I caught a glimpse of her bottom as she turned. Six livid red stripes were clearly visible.
“Hannah, your turn now. Please step forward and bend over as Karen has just done,” instructed James. “I don’t want to catch you smoking again either.”
I did as instructed and hoped that James would go easy on me, given that I already had a very tender bottom. He maybe did a bit but I was about to find out that the cane was a quite different experience. Much more impact and the pain was felt deeper into my bottom. When I looked in the mirror afterwards I could see that by touching my toes, rather than being on the spanking bench, a different part of my bottom was presented to James and he was able to deliverer the six cane strokes just above the marks left by the whipcord. Once again it was impossible not to cry out as each cane stroke landed. I managed to stay in position for the first three but after I got the fourth I straightened up without thinking and my hands went round to my bottom partly to give it a rub and perhaps also to protect it from further punishment.
”Bend over, Hannah,” I could hear James saying in an irritated voice. “I didn’t give you permission to rub your bottom and if it happens again I will repeat the stroke.” So down I went again and took the last two blows from the cane. Then I was back standing by Karen and receiving a final lecture from James as we stood there totally naked. He then told us to put our nighties back on and to go straight back to our beds. We retrieved our night wear and then left the room, both of us rubbing our sore bottoms beneath our nighties.
We all went back into the studio and I could tell that James was still pleased with how the day was progressing. He suggested we had a tea break and we sat on the sofas having a chat about how their business was going, amongst other things. James made a particular point of praising my performance so far. He said that I coped with the ad-libbing brilliantly and that my young looks were perfect for the school scenes. He said that for the final video he wanted me to put on a school uniform and tie up my hair into pig tails to make me look about 16. He said that I could wear the regulation school knickers they would provide or I could wear my own. It was up to me.
Karen and I then went through to the little school room to get ready. She produced a full school uniform for me with black shoes, short white socks, navy blue pleated skirt, white blouse and dark blue blazer complete with school badge, while she had a two piece suit to wear herself.
I looked at the school knickers and was tempted as the material was quite thick and the coverage was extensive. My own panties were quite high cut and the material was gossamer thin, but I still thought that I felt more comfortable in my own underwear.
There was probably only a couple of years between Karen and myself but when we were finally ready she looked about 35 and I looked, as intended, no more than 16.
James came in and gave us our instructions. The scenario was that I had been held back after class for not doing my homework and getting poor grades. Karen was my form mistress and she was to give me a stern lecture followed by confirmation of my punishment. This was to be a slippering with me bent over her desk and my skirt raised.”All OK and understood?”
We both nodded.
He set the cameras away and retired to the far corner of the room to check on proceedings. Karen and I went through the early exchanges and she confirmed what was going to happen to me.
“I’m going to slipper your bottom and I hope this will result in much better behaviour from you. You will receive six strokes over your knickers with your skirt raised above your waist. You know the procedure. Please get in position over the end of my desk.”
I took off my blazer and hung it on the back of my chair. I then moved forward and gathered up my skirt so that it was mainly held forwards and upwards, fully exposing my knickers. I bent over the end of the desk, turning my head away from the room so that I was looking directly into one of the cameras.
Karen also came round to this side of the desk and I could see her opening one of the desk drawers which contained several flat soled shoes. She rummaged around and produced a fairly large black canvas shoe with a moulded rubber sole. It looked quite solid and reasonably stiff, probably something like a men’s size 8. I was now regretting my choice of underwear.
Another lecture from Karen and then I could feel the sole of the shoe resting on my bottom. Karen had a different technique to James. She built the tension by waiting some time before delivering the first blow. During this time she kept the shoe on my bottom and moved it in small circles while I became increasingly apprehensive about what was about to happen.
Eventually I could feel the shoe being lifted away and I braced myself for what was coming and then a massive crack as the first blow landed on my barely protected bottom. The noise was on a different level and the slapping nature of the shoe generated a very different sensation. Unlike the whipping and the caning, Karen, once started, kept the slippering going at a healthy rate and the pain in my bottom was building to a crescendo. By number six my breathing was becoming quite laboured and I was once again crying out with tears streaming down my face. I stayed in position until Karen told me that I could get up. More rubbing of my bottom and we then both departed the scene.
James was again delighted with the result. Karen offered to apply more soothing oil onto my bottom but, actually, I’d had enough and wanted to go home as soon as possible. James gave me the £500 in cash and asked if I would like another day’s work in a couple of weeks time when my bottom would have fully recovered.
I liked both James and Karen and had enjoyed many aspects of that day. The money was good and I agreed to come back when they needed me.
Half an hour later I was back in my flat. My bottom was a mess and I could clearly pick out the different marks left by the whipcord, cane and slipper. But I had £500 in my pocket and that would comfortably keep me in funds until the next time. I fully intended to repeat the trick!
That day was a Thursday, and the following Monday I got a letter from one of the big accountancy firms offering me a place on their graduate training scheme. It meant relocating to London, but I was absolutely delighted and accepted the position without hesitation.
I still feel a little guilty, but one of the first things I did was block the numbers on my phone for the agency and for James. Maybe I should have rung James to explain but I wanted to leave that part of my recent past behind me.
I feel slightly nervous, now that I am in such a respectable job, that someone will recognise me in the videos, but it is more than a year since that day and it hasn’t happened yet. I’m doing company audits these days and I have been back in Leeds a couple of times. I would have loved to catch up with James and Karen but it just wasn’t practical or worth the risk of any complications from seeing them again.
Actually, I think they probably have a great business and are doing fine without me. I know from my training that small service companies need multiple income streams to be successful. They had money coming in from subscriptions, advertising and commissions from other companies. They were professional and seemed to genuinely enjoy the work they do. I therefore don’t waste too much time worrying about them.
© Julie Baker 2015 Email Julie at mailto:firstname.lastname@example.org