Two nurses find a way of boosting their income

By Angela Fox

Chapter 1 Opportunities

“Hello Lynne, may I join you?”

I was in the hospital cafeteria eating my salad and I glanced up from my plate to see Anne Jenkins, who was the ward Sister on the third floor, starting to pull a chair out from the table where I was already eating my lunch. Anne was an acquaintance I had known for a couple of years though I generally only saw her when I delivered one of the patients from the casualty department, where I worked, to her floor.

I smiled and said, “Please. Join me. I could use some company.”

She said, “Is something wrong? I saw you staring at your tomato and not eating? Is something on your mind?”

“Oh, n-no,” I stuttered. “Actually, I was just thinking about a patient I was treating this morning in casualty.”

Anne smoothed her starched apron out of the way, settled herself in and started to eat her own salad. “A bad accident?” she asked.

“Oh no, just a rather bruised ankle and shoulder. She drove her Mercedes into a lamp post,” I smiled.

“A drunken rich bitch?” she laughed.

I smiled in return, “Rich certainly, I don’t know about the bitch bit though. She was actually really nice as well as being quite beautiful with a figure to die for. But she wasn’t drunk or on drugs.”

“You have nothing to complain about in the figure department,” observed Anne.

Without being immodest I knew she was right. Even in my starched blue nurse’s uniform with its stiff white collar, starched apron and wide Petersham belt with the fancy silver buckle at my waist and my brown hair in a ponytail wrapped up under my nurse’s cap, I still turned plenty of heads in the casualty department, and not only from the patients.

But Anne was also a stunner, having an equally fantastic figure and her blonde hair contrasted even better with her similar uniform since her dress was the dark blue signifying her sister status. It made her blonde hair stand out all the more. I wasn’t sure about her sexuality, however, I certainly rather wished we could date.

“Nor have you,” I observed dryly.

“So why did she hit a lamppost if she wasn’t drunk?” Asked Anne.

“Well, that’s what I was thinking about. I think she was distracted when the accident happened. Apparently, a car swerved out in front of her and she was a bit slow on the brake and turned the steering wheel hard and hit the lamppost. But it was while I was helping her undress and get into a gown before taking her to X-ray that I saw why she might have been a little distracted.”

“Oh?” queried Anne raising her eyebrows.

“Well, you see, I saw her bottom and…”

“Oh, do go on, dear. You have got me curious. Why would her bottom distract her?”

“Well, have you ever seen a, well, a schoolgirl who was caned on her bottom?”

Anne paused as if trying to decide what she wanted to say, and then she cocked her head back and said, “Yes. As a matter of fact, I have. My parents sent me to a private girl’s boarding school and we were all caned at various times.”

Anne gave a little shudder but then smiled as if remembering some incident.

“Why, don’t you tell me about this woman? Had she been caned?”

I nodded. “A bit of a coincidence; I also went to a girl’s private boarding school where they used corporal punishment. It was rare though; however, I once saw a girl who had received six of the best from the headmistress. Of course, I was never caned myself.”

“Of course not,” laughed Anne, “I am sure you were always a good girl. So, had this woman being caned?”

“Oh yes,” I answered. “But this wasn’t a little caning, you know, a couple of red lines or anything. She had thick blue-black wheals all across her bottom and upper thighs. It was unbelievable. She said she had received twelve strokes of something she called a dragon cane.”

“Twelve strokes?” exclaimed Anne. “Are you going to report it? You know you should. It sounds like domestic violence or spousal abuse.”

I shook my head.

“But you have to my dear, it’s the law you know. You wouldn’t want it to come back to haunt you later for not reporting it.”

“I know,” I answered. “But it’s not that simple. She begged me not to.”

“That doesn’t make any difference dear. In those sorts of cases the male, it is usually a male, has sort of control over their victims and the victims are so much in fear of their abuser that they don’t want it reported and therefore the poor victim keeps on getting abused. The best thing is to report it and try to get her into one of those halfway houses so that her abuser can’t find her.”

I smiled at Anne. “Believe it or not Sister, I also have a nursing license and I have taken all those classes and am fully aware of spousal abuse. Heck, I see it all the time in casualty. But this case really is different. For a start her ‘abuser’ if you want to call it that, was a woman. A woman who happens to be one of her best friends. I talked to her at the bedside. Rather interestingly, that woman showed me some similar bruises on her own backside that appeared to be a couple of weeks old that had been inflicted by the woman with the bruised ankle.

“Turned out they were both actresses, if that is the right word. They make pornographic movies of the BDSM type. They are literally professionals who beat each other and do bondage and things for movies.”

As I described this, Anne’s eyes opened wide and then she smiled and nodded. “Oh wow,” she said. “That is a little different. And you believe them?”

“I think so,” I added. “They are both well off. The first woman, the one with the injuries, told me that she had earned five hundred pounds the previous day for allowing the other woman to cane her on camera. Remember that is five hundred pounds for about an hour’s work. I think that the other woman had earned a hundred and fifty pounds for her role.”

“Whew, that much? Still, twelve strokes of a cane would be terribly painful, I suppose.”

“You would think so, wouldn’t you? Yet she told me that, although her bottom was a little sore, her shoulder and ankle hurt much more from the accident. She actually told me she regularly makes these sorts of movies, at least ten a year and she is so hardened to it, these days she hardly feels it. Perhaps her skin has toughened up or something. Apparently, there are a number of girls who volunteer for this sort of thing and they take turns at giving and receiving as it were.”

“Really? And you say the other woman got paid to give it? I certainly wouldn’t mind caning someone for a hundred pounds!” she giggled.

“Oh yes, she does get paid to give it, not as much as receiving of course. The girls who take the caning and even whipping and flogging earn much more; maybe three times as much.”

“Wow, don’t suppose she knows if there are any openings?” grinned Anne.

I looked at Anne, trying to decide if she was serious. Anne was incredibly good looking and I liked her style. Some might have said she was bossy. However, a good ward sister, whom I knew Anne to be, had to be able to take decisive control. But she was always good-humoured. I suppose, if I were honest, I rather fancied her, but assumed she had been snapped up by some doctor type long ago.

She saw me looking at her. I saw her smile disappear from her eyes and she looked at me questioningly. “You mean…” she began.

Before she could say anything further I said, “I asked her, how she had gotten into it, you know doing that kind of work. She was very nice, I suppose you could say we got on well together like she made friends easily,” I smiled and Anne nodded.

“That doesn’t surprise me, Lynne. I am actually surprised one of those doctors in casualty hasn’t married you off long ago. Besides the fact that you are a stunner, everyone I know likes you and tells me you are not only a great nurse but are friends with everyone.”

I laughed, “I thank you for promoting my resume but I doubt that is all true, though I suppose I do find it easy to get on with the patients, even the unfriendly ones that occasionally come through our department.”

I didn’t think this was the time to tell her I was a lesbian and had just broken up with a girl who worked in the hospital’s administration. “Anyway, the girl with the sprained ankle told me that while she had been at university she had been recruited by an escort agency so that she could make some extra money. Apparently, it had been on the up and up, high-class clients etc, no sex or anything like that, until one night a rather nice and wealthy client had asked if he could, well, spank her.

“Naturally she had been a little scared and had declined, with no bad effects. But she had mentioned it to one of the older girls who worked at the agency. That girl had laughed and said it was actually quite common for some clients to ask for such little extras. It was a sort of dirty secret and although it wasn’t permitted under the agency rules, many girls did actually make extra money by allowing ‘special’ clients to beat them.

“It wasn’t long before she was propositioned again and somebody offered her one hundred pounds if he could give her a few strokes of the cane. To laugh it off she had jokingly said, “Offer me twenty pounds a stroke and I’ll take six,” to which the client had responded, “done”. At which point she rather regretted her impulsive reply.

“The client had then taken her to his hotel room and, after a glass of wine, had bent her over a chair and she had taken the six strokes. She said it had hurt quite a lot but he had allowed her a little breather between stokes and although he had caned quite hard, he had been very gentlemanly and duly paid her, her hundred and twenty pounds. He was soon a regular and every couple of weeks she would earn this extra money which soon allowed her to buy her first car. Gradually she had accepted similar punishment from other clients and she began to become much more tolerant so that she could handle eight to a dozen strokes without too much effort.

“She said that soon after she started this her hide must have either thickened or scarred below the surface such that she could handle this stuff without a problem.”

“And was she paid twenty pounds a stroke all the time?”

“Apparently. Sometimes more. After she graduated she actually became a sort of full time professional accepting corporal punishment from rich clients. She made a business of it. And then she started doing movies. It seems to be quite lucrative.”

Anne looked seriously at me for a moment and then smiled. “Don’t tell me, she offered you a job? With your good looks, well, I could imagine somebody caning your cute little backside.”

I turned red in embarrassment and looked down.

“Oh, she really did, didn’t she? Don’t suppose she would consider me too?” she laughed. “Not to be beaten,” she added hastily, “though I wouldn’t mind spanking you for a hundred pounds.”

“Well actually, well, she did ask me if I was interested in picking up a little extra money, and she also said if I had any friends…” I trailed off, suddenly feeling stupid and incredibly nervous at the same time.

The smile dropped from Anne’s face. She looked me dead in the eye and said, “Seriously? You are not seriously considering? Wow! How much money are we talking about?”

“I am not really sure. She gave me her number, you know, to call her. At first, I thought she was joking but…”

“Is she still in the hospital?”

“No. Orthopaedics saw her and put splints on her arm and ankle and discharged her. Her friend took her home.”

“Pity. Are you going to contact her?”

“Well, to be honest, I think I am too nervous to go through with it, though I could sure use the money. My car is in the repair shop right now and it’s going to take all my savings to get it out.”

“I know the feeling. Say, I have to get back to the ward, but, well, do you want to meet after work? I can give you a lift home if your car is in the garage.”

My lunch break was over so I nodded and thanked her, now feeling suddenly apprehensive and nervous, yet if the truth is known, a little excited. I returned to the casualty department.

Chapter 2 Phone Offer

It was early on that Friday afternoon in summer that I met Anne on the steps of the hospital and together we walked to the staff lot where ward sisters, Matron and doctors had premium parking spots. I could have taken the bus, but Anne insisted and I must admit it was rather nice to get into her car which was a newer and more up-market model than my own.

The main topic of conversation on the way home was to remark on how close we lived to each other. After I gave directions to my own flat it turned out that she lived in the very next street. One reason we hadn’t known this fact before was that I had only recently moved to my new flat after my prior relationship had broken up. I invited Anne up the stairs to the third floor of the three-story house where my little flat was located and she accepted. I made a pot of tea while she sat down and we made a little small talk about the hospital.

However, I had no sooner put a mug in her hand when she said, “Well, are you going to call her?”

I looked at her blankly pretending as though I had no idea what she was talking about but she said, “Look Lynne. Don’t be coy. I know you have been thinking about it, and I must admit I am curious.”

I smiled. “You are talking about calling the woman who was caned? Do you really think I should? I have never even considered doing something like this before. I am not sure I could do it. Besides, I would have no idea what to say to her.”

“Is it the thought of being spanked or being on camera that puts you off?”

I flushed red. “Well, yes. I think I would be embarrassed and, well, humiliated, but that isn’t all.”

She said, “Actually I think you would be good on camera. You are always self-confident and know what is going on and very natural and open. I wouldn’t be surprised to find that, like me, you have done some amateur acting.”

“I have,” I admitted, “But it’s hardly the same thing. I expect they would want me naked and I don’t think I could do that. Besides, it might not be spanking. It might be, well, something heavier. I certainly couldn’t take the cane like she had taken yesterday. I’d scream bloody murder.” Trying to deflect the subject away from me, I continued, “Why, are you telling me that you could?”

She laughed. “It wouldn’t be the first time!”

I was shocked and said, “You are joking.”

She smiled and shook her head. She said, “Look, Lynne, if this ever comes out I’ll kill you, I love nursing and would hate to lose my career. But if you promise that this is between you and me and will never go any further…”

“Look, Anne,” I interrupted. “We don’t know each other that well though I have seen you around for the past couple of years and I was thrilled when I heard you had been promoted to ward sister. I respect you a lot. But I promise that I shall never let out your secrets, as I would hope you would consider what I told you at lunch a secret, but if it makes you nervous you needn’t say any more.”

“Lynne,” she said. “I think we both have, well, secrets. Let us both promise that these will remain among us. I respect you and have always liked you too. In fact…”

“Go on,” I encouraged.

She said, “Well I know it is none of my business but, well…”

She paused, looking for even more encouragement, but this time I just looked at her.

She smiled and then continued, “Well, the truth is, I happen to know you are, gay. I mean, I knew you went out with Marcie in administration.”

“How did you know that?” I said a little shocked. As far as I knew nobody knew about my relationship with Marcie and, although we had parted, we had parted on good terms and I was sure Marcie wouldn’t have let on.

“Oh, don’t worry. Unless Marcie has told anyone, I am pretty sure no one else knows. But the truth is, I recognized you both in last year’s gay rights parade in Hampton.” She paused then added. “The truth is I was in the same parade and was right behind you, but you probably didn’t recognize me because I wore a mask. Yes, I know you both wore a lot of make-up and, at first, I wasn’t sure but then I heard you talk and your thick Cornish accent was a dead giveaway!”

Somewhat shocked, I said, “You mean you are a lesbian too?”

Anne smiled and said, “Guilty as charged.”

“Oh wow,” I said. She got off the sofa and came over to me and gave me a hug and then a little kiss on the cheek. I was overwhelmed and embarrassed but at the same time, I wanted more. But she broke off and returned to the sofa leaving me a little speechless.

“Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to shock you. I don’t want to get between you and Marcie. Marcie is a little butch for me and she looks like she is the jealous type.”

I laughed and said, “You have no idea. It was her jealousy that drove us apart. She never liked the fact that I was so, well as she puts it, so damned nice to everybody. We split about a month ago, which is why I moved here, out of her house. She is now with another girl.”

“Oh, I am sorry,” said Anne.

“Don’t be,” I answered. “I am relieved it’s over. We are still on good terms, fortunately, but she was a little, well, stifling. But, weren’t you going to tell me a secret?”

“What, huh?” she answered. “Oh yes, well, I was going to say that while in nursing school I too made a little extra money.”

“Don’t tell me you made spanking flicks?” I almost laughed.

“Not exactly. I had a part in a clam, well, lesbian movie. It was sort of a bit part. I was a friend of one of the main characters and she got me the part. I got paid too!” she laughed. “All of twenty pounds! They actually liked what I did and they offered me another larger part of another film, but by then I had graduated and had moved up north. I sort of wished I had pursued it. It was a lot of fun and, who knows, I might have become a movie star. When you told me your story over lunchtime today it brought it all back.”

“So, what you are saying is that, well, you really would like to be in a spanking movie?” I asked.

She looked suddenly serious. “Well let’s put it this way. I certainly wouldn’t mind.” And then she smiled and laughed, adding, “especially if it would mean I get to spank you!”

I suddenly felt my ears turn red as I flushed in embarrassment. “Y-you, you want to spank me?” I stuttered.

“Oh, my dear. I didn’t mean to embarrass you but, well, truthfully, I suppose I would. But like you, I am short of a little money right now so, seriously, if we could get paid for it, well bonus!” she laughed. “But only if you want to dear. You were obviously thinking about it over lunch. Come on, Honey. Won’t you admit it? You would enjoy me spanking you; wouldn’t you?”

I was silent as I thought about it. This was all a little fast. Anne admitting she was a lesbian and her wanting to spank me. I was confused and yet, as I thought about it, the thought about being taken over her lap, having my skirt raised while she spanked me, well, it didn’t shock me as much as it should have done. I looked at her and saw she was serious. And then I nodded.

“God, it sounds crazy. I don’t know what it would be like, I don’t really know that I would enjoy it, but…”

“Were you ever spanked at school?” she interrupted.

I shook my head. “No, I was never spanked or caned or anything like that at school but…”

“You saw other girls who were?”

I nodded.

“And how did it make you feel? I mean, when you saw them caned.”

“Oh, I never saw anybody caned, though I did see a couple of girls who were bent over a desk and given a few strokes on their bottoms with a slipper and I knew that occasionally somebody would get the cane from the headmistress.”

“When you saw those girls slippered, well, did it make you feel, well, good?”

I nodded.

“Did you wonder what it felt like?”

Again, I nodded and added, “I suppose so. A couple of times I thought about it, I mean, well when…”

“You thought about their spankings when you masturbated?”

I couldn’t bring myself to answer, but without looking at her I nodded.

“Did Marcie spank you?”

“Oh no, never anything like that. I don’t think I would have let her, ever. But that sort of thing never came up. She was too, proper?”

Anne smiled. “Yes, come to think of it she probably is. I don’t mean to offend you but I always thought she was a bit stuck up, if you know what I mean.”

I smiled to show I took no offence. Then there was a little silence and I felt uncomfortable yet somehow very excited.

“Err,” I began, “Do you want to spank me? I mean, do you want to, err, spank me now?” I mumbled.

“No dear. Well yes, I would, but let’s not right now. I wouldn’t want to, well, ruin anything, just yet. Tell me more about this woman who you met in the casualty department. She really asked if you were interested in making movies?”


“Did she say you would have to be caned?”

“No, not in so many words. She told me that a few strokes of the cane hurt for a little while but the stinging soon fades and then it isn’t so bad. She said there were plenty of opportunities for a girl with my figure and any of my friends that might be interested. To be honest, I didn’t really take her seriously. It was more when you saw me in the cafeteria I started seriously thinking about it. But she gave me her card.”

“Well then. Let’s call her. She probably wasn’t serious or there isn’t any real opportunity but we could call her. If there is nothing to it, we wouldn’t lose anything. And who knows, perhaps we could become movie stars,” she grinned.

“Are you saying you would allow yourself to be caned?”

“It would depend. If there is enough money in it, perhaps I would. I was caned three times at school and it hurt like hell, though probably only for a few minutes like your friend, till the sting wears off. After the sting, the soreness lasted a couple of days. But I think I would be better at dishing it out rather than receiving it, even if it doesn’t pay as much. Come on, take out her card and let’s call her.”

I looked in the breast pocket of my nurse’s dress and pulled out her card. It merely said: ‘Specialty Film Services. Marilyn Davies, Producer and Director,’ with a phone number in the town.

I handed it over to Anne who glanced at it and handed it back saying, “Do you have a speaker phone so I can listen in and perhaps join in if necessary?”

I nodded at the phone on the kitchen counter and said, “That one there has a speakerphone.”

“Well go on, dial it before you change your mind.”

“I haven’t made up my mind yet,” I pointed out.

“Yes, you have. Dial it now or I will. But she knows your voice and it would be better if you start the conversation.”

I shrugged my shoulders and thought, ‘What the hell!’ as I went over to the phone, picked it up and dialled.

“Specialty Film Services,” said a voice on the third ring.

“Hello,” I answered. “May I speak with Marilyn Davies?”

“This is Marilyn. Say, is this Lynne, the cute nurse in the casualty department? I recognise your Cornish accent.”

“Err, yes, this is Lynne. How are your ankle and shoulder?”

“Actually, really good, or perhaps I should say the pain pills are working well. Thank you for asking.”

“Good,” I replied, wondering how to continue, though I could see Anne mouthing the words frantically, ‘Go on ask her’.

“Good.” I repeated somewhat idiotically, “Err, about what you said, err, you know. About opportunities for me in what you do.”

“Ahh, my dear. You are curious to know if I was serious when I mentioned you might do well in my line of work? Yes. I was very serious. You have a wonderful figure, especially in that dishy nurse’s uniform. Are you considering seriously what I said?”

“Well,” I began. “I would want to know…”

“Of course, you want to know more about it; what would be involved and so on and so forth. Look, tell you what, where do you live?”

I told her.

“Good, we are not far from each other. Don’t nag me but I am currently in my office and will be here for a few hours yet. Would you like to talk tonight while it is fresh on your mind?”

“You should be off your feet, legs elevated and relaxing,” I began but she interrupted.

“I said, don’t nag darling. Just come over to my office now, and you can check me out if you want but I can tell you what sort of opportunity I could offer you. Better than talking on the phone that is.”

I saw Anne gesticulating wildly at me at the corner of my eye, so I sniggered and turned my back to avoid looking at her as I said, “May I bring a friend?”

“Male or female?” was the response.


“Is she interested in the same thing, and is she as cute as you?”

“Yes. And she is cuter.”

“Well then of course. Is she with you right now? Listening? It sounds like I am on a speaker phone?”

“Yes, she can hear you.”

“What’s your name, friend?”

Anne came over closer to the phone. “My name is Anne,” she said.

“Hello, Anne. Are you really interested in being a part of a film or movie that includes spanking and other activities?”

“I’ll be honest,” said Anne. “I am very interested in earning extra money, I have some financial problems. But this method certainly sounds interesting.”

We heard a laugh at the other end of the line. “Well, that is refreshing. Somebody who tells it like it is. Are you a nurse as well Anne?”

“I am a ward Sister at the same hospital as Lynne.”

“Hmm,” said Marilyn. “Have you ever been spanked or caned or even done any acting?”

“I have been caned three times actually. They were all at school. Though I should tell you, I am not particularly keen on being spanked or caned myself. I would prefer to be more of a giver rather than a taker, if you know what I mean. And yes, I have done a little amateur acting.”

Again, we heard a laugh on the speakerphone. “Well then, since you are so direct, have you ever spanked Lynne?”

Once more I blushed in embarrassment.

“No, I have never spanked anybody,” said Anne.

“Do you want to?”

I saw Anne grin as she looked coyly at me. “Yes. Actually, I would love to spank her.”

Suddenly I felt like I wanted to run away, yet this conversation continued.

“By any chance, are you two lovers?”

Anne smiled at me once again as she answered, “Not yet.”

“Ah, I see,” said Marilyn. “Methinks the picture begins to clear.” There was a short pause as though she was thinking and then she said, “Lynne, are you still there?”

“I’m still here,” I answered.

“Would you consider letting Anne spank you? I mean tonight, and on camera. Call it an audition or a screen test?”

I sucked in a deep breath. “Err, I suppose so,” I said softly.

“Speak up, dear, I can’t hear you.”

It took a lot of courage but I surprised myself and said loudly, “Yes.”

“I’ll pay you both a little bit if I get any usable footage. It wouldn’t be much since you are first timers and it would depend on whether you are any good and I get anything we could use.”

“How much isn’t much,” said Anne all business-like.

“Ah, direct Anne again,” laughed Marilyn. “Well assuming I can use it, how would one hundred and twenty pounds each sound? I know it might be a lot less than what I told you I got yesterday, Lynne, but this would be more of a screen test; to let me get a look at you in action as it were. I could see how you look on camera and how well you act, etcetera. If you look good we can talk serious money for the future.”

There was a pause as though she were thinking. Then she asked, “How long will it take you to get here?” and she gave us the address.

Anne said, “About 45 minutes. What do you want us to wear?”

“Hmm,” said Marilyn. “What are you wearing right now?”

“We just got off of work, we are both still in uniform,” said Anne.

There was another pause, as though she were thinking. Then she said, “Lynne?”

“Yes?” I answered.

“By any chance would you have a school uniform? Doesn’t have to be anything fancy, a blouse, a skirt and perhaps a tie?”

“Err, yes,” I replied, “I still have my old school uniform. It was a private school.”

“And you can still get into it?” laughed Marilyn.

A little shamefacedly I said, “It’s been a while but I think so.”

“Ok then, bring it with you. Just come in your nurse’s uniform and don’t take any extra time to get into it now. You can change when you get here. Try and get here as soon as possible. I’m going to get a bite to eat then I’ll meet you both here, do our little screen test and then I can get home. It has been a long day for me.”

We all said a temporary goodbye and we hung up.

I looked at Anne and she said, “Well Lynne, are you ready to be a movie star?”

“You mean me, or my bum?” I laughed.

She laughed in return. We drank our tea and I got the bag out of my wardrobe that I kept the school uniform I had worn when I left at eighteen, hoping and wondering if it would still fit me.

Chapter 3 The Studio

Feeling a little apprehensive but very excited at the same time, I climbed back into Anne’s car and we drove across town. I think I was more excited about a potential relationship with Anne than I was about the screen test and the thought that I would soon be across her lap while she spanked me did make me feel a little, well, it is hard to put into words.

I looked across at her as she drove. Even driving, she was quietly competent, efficient in her moves as she nimbly manoeuvred the vehicle through the early evening rush hour traffic. She wasn’t saying much either, concentrating on the road ahead.

As I looked at her I realized how truly beautiful she was, even though she was dressed in her work attire. She had taken her cap off and thrown it on the back seat on top of the bag that contained my old school uniform. Her long blonde hair was still tied up in the bun that was normally covered by her cap. I could only imagine what she would look like with it down. She still had her starched white apron with its bib pinned up over her breasts on her dark blue dress, and I noticed it was hardly creased. It was as pristine as it had been that morning, which in and of itself was quite an achievement.

The Matron of the hospital where we both worked was a stickler for everything, including our uniforms, and our aprons were always supposed to be heavily starched, ironed and pure white. I found it an irksome task to keep everything perfect, including our stiff white collars, and thankfully Matron tended to stay away from the casualty department.

Anne, on the other hand, always looked immaculately turned out and I supposed she had to set an example on her ward. I imagined Anne could be quite the disciplinarian when she wanted to be, though she had never seemed stuffy. To me, she had always been friendly when we had occasionally shared a few laughs over lunch. I liked her, though up until now I had never considered what it would be like to have a relationship with her. In fact, it had never occurred to me that she might have been a lesbian as well. I knew she was older than me, and she was probably an inch or two taller. But she also had a superb figure and her blonde hair almost made her look Nordic.

We reached the address that Marilyn had given us and Anne pulled her car into a driveway of what looked like an older, large house. It wasn’t the best part of town, more the area where older houses had been converted into business offices for real estate agents and a few lawyers. There was even a small doctor’s surgery across the street.suddenly got nervous and wondered if I could still go through with it. We climbed a few stone steps and Anne gave a little smile of encouragement as she pressed the doorbell. Far off in the distance, we heard a soft buzzing sound and we stood and waited what seemed like an age, to the point where Anne was just reaching for the buzzer again when the door opened. It was Marilyn, wearing a splint on her right arm and another on her right leg.

Her face took a moment to scan us and then it lit up with a welcoming smile as she said, “Sorry, it took me so long to reach the door. I suppose I am now getting stiff.”

Sensing a possible out for me I interrupted and said, “Maybe we could come again, you know, on another day?”

She grinned at me. “Having second thoughts, Lynne? That won’t do. I have just spent the time since I got off the phone stuffing down a sandwich and setting up the studio. You wouldn’t want me to have gone to all that trouble for nothing, not with me in these damn splints surely? Don’t stand on ceremony, come on in the both of you.”

She opened the door wider and we entered into a hallway that had a set of stairs on the left with coat hooks on the wall to the right. She led the way to the back and turned left into a corridor and then into a medium size office that was cluttered with books, magazines and a few film canisters as well as videotapes.

“Excuse the mess. This is my brother’s office, I usually work out of a different house, but there is a small studio upstairs which we use on occasion and I thought it might be a little friendlier for the first time. Can I get you both a drink?”

We both shook our heads as we sat down on a couple of easy chairs in front of the desk. Marilyn hobbled around behind and sat in a leather executive type chair and looked at the both of us, starting with me and then onto Anne.

Marilyn, still looking at Anne, said, “Excusing me from appearing rude but I had to take a good look at you. Lynne wasn’t wrong. You are cute; actually, you are gorgeous. Have you ever done any modelling?”

Anne smiled and said, “Well thank you, you are pretty gorgeous yourself. But no, I have never done modelling, though I have appeared in a couple of amateur stage productions. Just for fun,” she added as an afterthought.

“And I see you are a ward Sister, at least your dress is a darker blue than Lynne’s which I associate more with that of a Sister. Am I right?”

“Yes,” said Anne, “I am a ward Sister.”

“Hmm, and it is good that you still have your apron on. By any chance do you wear a nurse’s cap? I saw Lynne with one when she looked after me in the casualty department.”

I had left my own apron and cap at the flat since I knew I would be wearing my school uniform anyhow.

“Err, yes, as a matter of fact I do. It is in the car,” answered Anne.

“Excellent, excellent,” said Marilyn. “Look, let me explain what I can offer you both and then you can both either head for the hills or go along with a little experiment.”

“My brother and I and a few other girls I know have a little movie production company that caters to the S and M crowd. We do movies of spanking, whipping and bondage etc, nearly all girl on girl though sometimes we have guys in to either be beaten or do the beatings, but mostly it is girls. A couple of the girls recently left us to get married and it has thrown a little wrinkle into our plans since we are sort of planning a larger movie.

“For the moment it doesn’t matter what, we probably won’t be filming for a month; it takes a long time to set up what we have in mind including location shooting and such. The point is we shall need a couple of girls soon, one who is more of a sub and one who, coincidently, is more of a Domme.

“As soon as I saw Lynne here I knew she would be perfect for what we have in mind and I suppose it is serendipitous that she saw my marks from yesterday since it led to her being curious. But Anne, assuming you can act a little, would be perfect for our more dominant role, though I should warn you, if you are going to be involved in some of our films, we would expect you take a share of being the sub too. Do you think you could handle that?”Anne cocked her head to one side. “I have nothing in principle about being caned or even flogged, though I honestly don’t know if I could tolerate it and still act, if you know what I mean. Also, I would need to know that I was safe at all times with somebody looking out for me who would stop it if they could see I was in serious distress.”

“Of course,” said Marilyn nodding her head. “We are very concerned with safety and take very special care of all our staff. In fact, having two trained nurses around would be a big benefit. But all our scenes are carried out with safe words and safe signals and we stop instantly as soon as any safe word or signal is uttered or given.”

“Just a minute,” I interrupted. “I have no idea what a safe word is and I have never even been spanked, let alone caned or flogged. I am not at all sure I could take anything as severe as a caning. I don’t mind trying a little spanking, but I seriously doubt I can handle anything more.”

Marilyn smiled sincerely at me. “Don’t worry, Honey. I am sure you will have no problem. To start with, we wouldn’t expect you to take a caning on your first time. We wouldn’t allow it until we have seen how you tolerate a spanking. We gradually work up to your limits. When you reach your limit you merely say the name of the person who is wielding the instrument that you are being punished with and we make sure that that person stops instantly.

“You are never in any danger of being taken past your limits. And I promise you, you will find you can tolerate much more than you ever believed possible. And another thing, you will find that after only a few sessions you will not only tolerate more, you will actually be disappointed if it is stopped before you are near your limit. But don’t take my word for granted, just wait and see. I promise you, you will very pleasantly surprised.

“All right,” she continued. “Let me just go over a few details. We are a little film production house that makes, shall we say, special movies. We do a little distribution, however mostly we rely on others to distribute them. My brother and I own the studio and we have three other girls who are actors and we have two or three others that come and work for us on a sort of contract basis. This is the sort of relationship we shall offer the both of you.

“Assuming we offer you a part in the movie, we would tell you what would be involved and you may then accept or decline. Decline more than a few times and, well, let’s just say we shall part amicably. If you accept in principle to be in the movie we shall negotiate a fee and you will be paid twenty percent up front with the remainder coming on completion of the shoot.

“Our three girls who are actors have a different relationship. They get a small fee upfront and then participate in a revenue sharing scheme, ultimately getting a percentage of the take, depending on their roles. Generally, we pay three times more for a girl who receives strokes of the cane or floggers etc. than the actor who dishes it out. This, of course, encourages everyone to take a turn on the receiving end, me included.

“We actually strive for a little realism because it sells better and, unusually for these kinds of productions, we want our actors to actually act, to sell their roles if you like. That is why I want to set up this screen test. I must tell you that many good-looking girls try out for roles with us but most are unsuccessful.”

“Is that because the, err, beatings are too severe?” I asked.

Marilyn smiled. “Well yes, a few think that they can take more than they really can, but for the most part they either can’t act to save their lives, are shy behind cameras etc. or they just can’t get into the parts. Perhaps surprisingly it’s not the pain that puts most off. In fact, I have had a couple of girls who were never spanked before they came here, who I turned down for one reason or another, later tell me that the actual spanking was the best part of the whole experience.”

“Sorry to be blunt,” smiled Anne. I admit that I am both intrigued and also a little excited by the prospect, but my selfish interests just have to ask, how much money could I expect to receive for taking part in one of these movies?”

“That’s ok,” said Marilyn. “It would be strange if you didn’t ask. Obviously, the amount will vary depending on the role. But on average, assuming you get a good part as the Domme or a giver as it were, you could expect something in the region of one hundred to a hundred and fifty pounds, possibly as high as two hundred pounds, though that would be for a very large role in a successful movie. If you were to act as the submissive or a receiver as it were, then I would say anyway from three to four hundred pounds.

“For yesterday’s shoot, which was actually filmed at a different studio that I sometimes work for, I was paid five hundred pounds, as I told Lynne. For that, I took twelve pretty severe strokes of the cane after a good hand spanking, as I am sure Lynne told you. Does that answer your question?”

“Wow, yes, it sure does. It sounds almost fantastic!” gushed Anne.

“Good. And for you Lynne?”

“Yes,” I agreed. “It sounds wonderful.”

“Excellent. Of course, before I could really offer either of you a role in a film I really do have to see you at work. Now normally, Lynne, since you want to try being spanked, it would be me that gave you a spanking. However, with this arm,” she said, looking at her shoulder splint, “I am afraid that is out of the question, at least for a couple of weeks. So, it is sort of handy that you have brought your friend who, forgive me for saying so, seems to want to spank you. I hope for your sake she doesn’t have any grudges.”

When Marilyn saw Anne about to raise an objection she quickly said, “I was joking, forgive me, but in any case, I wouldn’t allow even Anne here to really hurt you. But the thing is I need to see if you can both act. That is much more important than knowing how much you can take. Any questions?”

As usual, it was Anne who took the lead. “So, what do you want us to do, follow a script or something? I am not sure I could learn a script in the time we have tonight.”

“Good point,” said Marilyn. “Most of our movies start out as screenplays but often we leave the screenplay as we sort of get into it, if you know what I mean. There is a lot of improvisation. So, what I have in mind is that I shall give you both a scenario that I want you to act out. There is no script. I want you to make up the words and action as you go.

“I shall be behind the camera, as it were. Actually, there will be several cameras all filming you from different angles. I shall direct you both and I will occasionally call a halt to give you direction. In fact, the cameras will run for the entire time, which is what limits us. This is a good thing since whatever actually happens will be done in two hours so, I can get the hell out of here,” she laughed. “We will get whatever we get, and my brother will edit it all together later.

“When we are done, I shall pay you twenty pounds each. Yes, I know the spankee generally gets about three times the spanker. However, you can decide for yourselves how you want to divide it up. In a couple of weeks, I shall send you a videotape of what my brother edits and then I’ll let you know if we want to employ you again. Fair enough?”

Anne and I both nodded and Anne said, “Well I’m game if you are Lynne?”

I smiled and nodded again. Although I was nervous I was suddenly glad that I was going to do his with Anne. Somehow, I knew I was going to actually enjoy this and I couldn’t think of anyone I’d rather have spank me than Anne.

“Good,” said Marilyn once again, getting up from her chair. “In that case let’s get this show on the road. Did you bring your school uniform, Lynne?”

“Yes,” I said, “it’s in the car.”

“Right, let us go and get it and if Anne’s nurse’s cap is in there we’ll bring that as well.”

The three of us went out of the office and Anne accompanied me to the car. She unlocked it and, as Marilyn waited for us by the house’s door, she whispered, “What do you think, Lynne, are you up for this?”

I smiled at her and said, “Anne, I am scared almost poop-less but I am also very excited and, well, I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

Anne laughed. “Ok, my little one, I promise I won’t hurt you too much!”

We collected our things and went back to the house where Marilyn led us up the stairs and into a small corridor. She opened a door to reveal a small bedroom and said, “Lynne, you can change in here. It’s a bedroom I sometimes use when I stay here but often the girls change into their wardrobes here. Those flat shoes you are wearing are ok for a schoolgirl, but Anne, come with me. I need to get you some heels because even though you are a nurse and also a little taller than Lynne, I need to make you look even taller and, shall we say, a little more erotic? Lynne, after you have changed, just walk down the corridor and come through the door at the end. It’s our studio.”

Marilyn continued down the corridor chatting while I went into the bedroom. It was a medium sized bedroom with an old-fashioned high ceiling. There was a dressing table against the wall to my right with a large mirror and a small upright chair. The centre of the room was unoccupied except for an old oriental rug on the floor. Light from the still early summer evening flooded through the yellow curtains mostly drawn across the window of the far wall over a single bed that was made up with sheets, blanket and cover.

I walked over to the bed and laid my garment bag containing my school uniform on it. It didn’t take me long to slip out of my nurse’s dress, place it on a hanger that I found on a hook on the door and I briefly glanced at myself in the mirror. I was fairly pleased that that morning, instead of tights I had worn stockings on a black garter belt with black panties. Black stocking or tights were de rigueur at the hospital for all nurses but most of the girls wore tights.

It had been Marcie that had got me out of that habit since, as she said, she preferred to know that I was walking around dressed more as a lady with a garter belt and stockings, and I had become used to it. It was her that also made me wear a black bra. I knew I was good looking, even though fairly small. At five feet five inches, I weighed seven and a half stones, and my brown hair was long reaching just below my shoulders, or it would have done if it were loose. However, today, as most days when I was on duty at the hospital, I had French plaited it into a single ponytail that I generally wrapped around my head under my nurse’s cap.

I was a good three inches shorter than Anne who generally wore her long blonde hair in a tight bun under her own nurse’s cap, and I was younger by, I guessed, about four years. At twenty-five, I was in wonderful shape and had a figure that I knew many envied, though I doubted Anne did. She was a little heavier, but only in the right places, having, I am sure, a larger breast size as well as a little more on the hips.

Thinking of Anne now I couldn’t help remember her words earlier when Marilyn had asked her if we were lovers and she had answered, “Not yet”.

At the time, it had sent wonderful shivers up my spine and did again now as I thought about it. Suddenly I wanted to hug Anne and cuddle against her. I sighed and unzipped my garment bag. It was Mother who had persuaded me to keep all the items of school uniform from my last year at school and they still took a significant portion of my closet. Back then, I had been more inclined to burn them but Mom had insisted that one day I might be glad I didn’t.

The only part of the uniform I ever thought I would ever use again was a double-breasted Gabardine School Mack with its hood and belt. At school, we had all rather hated them. What with their check lining and lengths below our knees, they seemed very antiquated. But since school, I had worn it a couple of times since it was very warm and dry and did look fashionable in a retro sort of way.

Before Anne and I had left my flat I had thrown a shirt, tie, gymslip and blazer into my bag from the collection, but left the Mack behind. I half wondered if the shirt would still fit and was slightly surprised to feel the starched stiff but wonderfully smooth cotton of the expensive white shirt slip into place exactly as it had done just over four years ago.

My uniforms were always of the finest quality with mom never sparing any expense. The stiff collar fastened just as it always had done and as I flipped it up and tied the silver and navy striped tie with fingers that still remembered as it were yesterday, it brought all the memories of school back. I had always loved our school. It was an expensive boarding school for girls in the old tradition of the best of public girl’s schools.

Yes, there had been a lot of silly rules, but the old building was wonderful and all the staff had been very kind. I had done well and could have gone onto Cambridge, but opted for nursing because, well, it had always felt right. Of course, with my family’s money, I really didn’t need to work and Mom had always been a little miffed that I had left the house to strike out on my own. She had gradually accepted it, just as she did when she found out her only child was a lesbian and therefore unlikely to give her a grandchild.

But, like everything else, Mother was good at accepting and we were still good friends although she always wondered why I seemed to always be living in poverty. She never seemed to get it through her head that I wanted to be self-sufficient. I suppose she always imagined that one day I would come back to the family.

I turned my collar down and made sure my tie lay perfectly underneath it and then took out the gymslip. It was an archaic garment of a schoolgirl uniform of long ago. Our school just loved tradition. Of course, we girls had rather hated the gymslip, yet as I slipped it over my head and settled the three box pleats front and back into place, even I could recognize how smart it looked. I tied my red girdle into place with the longer ribbon tails hanging neatly at my waist on the left and patted myself down.

I looked in the mirror and saw my gleaming navy enamelled prefects badge shining over my left breast and still felt the pride of the day I had it presented to me. Finally, I shrugged my navy blazer into place and gave myself one last inspection in the mirror. Looking back at me was the epitome of an older teenage schoolgirl and, with a shock, I realized how the sophisticated and confident casualty nurse persona had softly slipped away. And as I thought about it, it was with a shock that I was really a naughty schoolgirl who was about to get a good hiding from a still very sophisticated nurse. A little lump of fear formed in my throat but I also could help notice that it matched the excitement and the little thrill I was feeling.

I opened the bedroom door, rather hesitantly stepped out into the corridor and walked down to the door at the far end. The room was large, occupying the entire second-storey wing on the West side of the house. It must have been twenty feet to the far wall and about thirty-five feet in length, and the windows at either end still let in the early evening light. Half of the room was brightly lit with flood lamps and those inverted umbrella lamps that you see in photography studios. The other half was relatively dark, though I could see several monitors and electronic equipment on a large desk.

The brighter half of the room looked like a school room with a partial row of wooden school desks looking at a wooden desk behind which was a nice leather executive chair. On the desk was a world globe, a leather-bound black book, and, rather ominously, a leather paddle and a school type cane with a crook handle. In front of the desk was what looked like a dining room chair with a plain upright back and no arms. Anne and Marilyn were standing next to the desk and both turned to look at me as I entered the room.

“Oh my,” said Anne, “a gymslip. I thought my school had been the last school in the country to make us wear gymslips. I assumed that they had gone out of fashion in the dark ages, though I must say it does look incredible on you.”

“Wow!” added Marilyn, “I must say it really does suit you, that schoolgirl look. I never dreamt that the efficient nurse that took such wonderful care of me this morning could transform herself into the perfect late adolescent schoolgirl. You certainly fit the part wonderfully. Did you really wear that uniform at school?”

I laughed, a little nervously saying, “Yes, this is what they made us wear. I wore this particular gymslip and blazer on my last day at school, at the prize giving.”

“And was that the actual length of it?” asked Marilyn.

I nodded. “Yes, they were real sticklers about hem lengths. It was supposed to be two inches below our knees, though I think this is a little shorter by about half an inch, or maybe I have grown a little.”

Anne laughed. “It’s probably that you have filled out in the chest, dear, causing the hemline to lift a little.”

“Could be,” added Marilyn. “I have a few school uniforms, including a gymslip. It’s a common theme for the movies we make, but mine is much shorter. I think that is the first time I have ever seen one that extended below the knees, but I don’t think it will matter. Soon enough it is going to be raised,” she added rather cryptically.

I looked at Anne to see if the comment affected her, but she seemed not to notice. I did note that Anne seemed quite a bit taller, and, looking down at her feet, I saw she was wearing some expensive shoes with four-inch heels that Matron at the hospital would not have approved of. She had also taken her hair down so it cascaded over her shoulders and the contrast of the dark blue sister’s dress against the blonde hair was remarkable. She had pinned it back severely behind her ears and with her cap perched rather perkily on top of her head. She looked incredible.

“Well girls, let’s get to work,” said Marilyn. “For this little screen test, the scenario will be quite simple. You, Lynne, have been sent to the school Matron for punishment. Usually, the scenario would call for you to be sent to a teacher or headmistress but it would be a shame to waste Anne’s wonderful Matron’s outfit.”

Anne laughed. “Thanks for the promotion, but I am only a Sister. This is a ward Sister’s dress. Matron, in any case, never wears an apron. I think she hates to get her hands dirty,” she grinned at me knowingly and I grinned in return.

Marilyn grinned. “Thanks for the correction, but the starched apron and belt add a nice touch and I don’t think our viewers really care. It’s the uniforms themselves that matter and besides a nurse at a school was often called a Matron. In any case, Lynne here has been sent to you for punishment and it is your job to see that happens. Ideally, you should take her down a peg or two first; our viewers love to see humiliation, but rather than give you a script, the test here is to see you make up a story on your own and act it out convincingly. I am going to film it so my brother can see it and I can get a second opinion. I want you to do it as naturally as possible. I really want you to get into your roles and make it seem as real as possible.

“However, there are a couple of points that I want to make clear. Lynne, I want Anne here to really spank you as though this was a real punishment. I understand that you have never experienced anything like this before so it is going to hurt; there is no way of getting away from that. But in a real sense, this is what you are getting paid for and certainly in the future, if you can take it, you can make a lot of money. However, and this is important, we are not here to torture you against your will. You can stop this anytime. You will not be restrained in any way so you can just walk away or better yet just shout out, ‘Anne’ and we will stop. From that point, the shoot is over.

“Now Anne, your friend here is going to suffer a little bit. To make it worth her while, you have to do a good job. Silly little spanks or mild blows with instruments do nobody any good. If it doesn’t look convincing, your partner here is really suffering for nothing. When you smack her, you should smack hard and fairly speedily. It has to be a real spanking. If you feel sorry for her and go easy on her then it won’t look real and it won’t be saleable. Yes, I know this is only a test and we probably won’t be able to market it, but remember, whether you work for us again will depend on this screen test. So, no matter how sorry you feel for Lynne, you can’t let it affect you. You must dispassionately dispense her punishment. Actually, you can smile a little if you want to as though you are enjoying it. Sadistic viewers tend to enjoy that sort of thing, but don’t overdo it.

“Now if I yell ‘Cut’, it means you can stop acting and certainly stop the punishment. I may call ‘Cut’ for a number of reasons. It may be because your acting is useless and there would be no point in continuing. I am being brutally honest. Many girls think they are good at this but are in fact pathetic, even laughable. If you are, well, I hope there are no hard feelings, but hey, I am in this to make money, not fulfil your fantasies of stardom. But I may cause a cut so I can reposition cameras, lights, or direct the action as I see fit. There could be a number of reasons, but in any case, stop any punishment immediately; but try and hold your positions. That makes editing later much easier.

“When I call ‘Action’, resume the scene or follow my directions. This is a simple scene so it shouldn’t be too difficult. And one final thing, I will call a cut if I truly believe that Lynne can’t handle it but, for some reason, she is not stopping it herself.

“Now, Lynne, on the desk is a leather spanking paddle and a cane. Don’t feel like you have to take these. At this point, it really isn’t about your stamina to take a beating. It is much more about your acting, and how well you sell the idea of suffering. Do not overact, scream the place down for a few little taps, and do not be overly stoic. Act exactly as you would if this were real, you know, sent to the headmistress’s office for a spanking or caning. When it hurts, cry, gasp, even howl, but you should only do that if the pain really makes you feel like that. The more real it is, the better.

“And just because there is a cane on the desk doesn’t mean Anne will use it. I have already told her she is to start off fairly mild, with her hand, and gradually build up the speed and the power. If she thinks you are doing alright she will use the leather paddle on you, ultimately going as hard as she can, assuming you can handle it.

“I doubt you are ready for the cane. I placed it on the desk for effect. However, after I call a cut to the paddling, assuming you haven’t had enough, you are welcome to try the cane even if only for a couple of strokes so you can see what one day you might be facing. Any questions?”

I had gulped when I saw the cane and knew there was no way I was ready for that, and I felt a little subdued as the reality of what I was about to do sunk home. A part of me wanted to run away and stop the whole silly idea, but when it came down to it I realized it had gone too far for me to back out and, somehow, deep inside, I knew I would regret it for the rest of my life if I didn’t at least try. I shook my head and Anne did the same.

“Good,” said Marilyn. “In that case, I am going to sit behind the desk with the monitors on it. Lynne, I want you to step just over there; just out of frame and Anne, why don’t you sit in that leather chair behind the desk and pretend to work on some paperwork. When I call ‘Action’ I shall then wrap on some wood as though Lynne, you were knocking on a door. Anne, I want you to look up and shout ‘come in’ and then Lynne, you will come and stand by this chair in front of the desk and begin.

“Again, I want you to make the story up as you go and let me see some really sincere acting.”

Anne and I took up our respective positions and then, all too soon for me, Marilyn called, “Action!”

Chapter 4 Scream Test

Marilyn rapped on her desk with a knocking like sound and I watched Anne. She seemed hard at work at her desk and it was a second or so before she looked up in a sort of irritated way and called, “Come in.”

I, too, waited a second and then walked over to her desk, trying to look concerned but trying to hide it, so she wouldn’t know how scared I really was.

“Ah Saunders, I have been expecting you.”

“Err, yes, Matron. The headmistress sent me.”

“And you know why you are here?”

I almost wanted to say, “Yes because I need the money!” and I had to fight from grinning.

Instead, I said, “Not really Matron.”

“Surely you can’t be so thick, Saunders. You are here to be punished and, as you know, our headmistress has an intense dislike of such unpleasantness. So, the dirty work is left to me as usual. Do you know why you are to be punished?”

Anne leaned back in her chair and peered at me as though I were something disgusting on her shoe. It didn’t take much acting for me to shake my head in a confused fashion since I really didn’t know why I was being punished.

“I have no idea, Matron.”

Anne paused again as though trying to measure me up. “You know, I have just been reading your school record. Over the years you were a bit of a troublemaker but last year it seemed like you had begun to settle down and you were even made a prefect. You are certainly intelligent and have done well in all your exams; so, I can only conclude that you are a liar!”

“No, no Matron. I am not a liar.” I tried to say rather desperately. “Perhaps you have me confused with someone else?”

“I think not. Do you deny that you saw Mrs Lewis, head of the English department, at the station when you arrived on the train back from the summer holidays?”

I shook my head rather nervously, but she carried on, “And do you deny that your blouse was open all the way and that your tie was dangling in front of your gymslip not even tied; and do you deny that you were cavorting with a group of junior girls and that in front of them, when Mrs Lewis told you to smarten yourself up because you were in uniform and thus representing our school in public, you actually told her to, ‘Bog Off’, and that you actually started to laugh which caused the other junior girls to think that you were some sort of hero?

“Mrs Lewis was so shocked by your behaviour, that she almost had a heart attack and only recovered with the help of the train guard. When he asked her, what was the matter, she pointed you out to him as you sauntered out of the station with your back to them and the guard told her an interesting story.

“Apparently, he had seen you earlier on the train drinking from a bottle, and he kindly offered to re-board the train, and search the carriage that you had just vacated. Do you know what he found?”

I shook my head, completely bemused.

“He found an empty bottle of wine!”

“Cut!” yelled Marilyn. “But hold your positions.”

She ran as quickly from the room as her splinted leg allowed, returning thirty seconds later with an empty wine bottle in her hand. She went behind the desk and placed it in a lower desk drawer, closed the drawer saying, “Hold your positions till I call ‘Action’”. She went back to her monitoring station and sat down and there was a short pause and then she called, “Action.”

Almost without skipping a beat, Anne said, “Do you deny that you were drinking?”

Thinking quickly, despite what Marilyn had just done, I said, “But Matron, I was only drinking a soft drink on the train, I promise.”

Anne gave a rather evil grin and, without taking her eyes off me, she opened the desk drawer, took out the wine bottle and slammed it down hard on the desk in front of me.

“Liar!” she exclaimed. “All right, enough of the time wasting. I am going to punish you severely in the possibly vain hope that we can set you back on track. A few staff members, me included, wanted to expel you, but the headmistress decided you should be given this one last chance. I think it is a waste of time but at least we can give it a college try. Remove your blazer, Now!”

I jumped when she shouted, and it wasn’t an act. But I shrugged my blazer off and placed it on the chair in front of the desk.

“Hmm, you had better remove your prefect’s badge from your gymslip. You’ll be lucky to earn that back before leaving here.”

My prefect’s badge had actually been pinned there over my left breast by my favourite teacher at our school and I was still rather proud of it. I was rather sad to remove it and took a little time fiddling with the security catch at the back. Anne retrieved it brusquely from me and put it in her own breast pocket under the bib of her apron.

“And just so there is no misunderstanding, my girl, for the next three months you are confined to school uniform during all waking hours, including weekends. You are not to leave the school grounds under any circumstances unless accompanied on official business by a teacher. You are to plaid your hair in two pigtails like all the junior girls and, since you are no longer a prefect, you will no longer be permitted to wear nylon stockings or tights. Back to knee-high socks for you, my girl!”

Anne stood up, came around the desk and turned the chair around facing the camera and Marilynn’s desk. Then, as she sat down and smoothed out her apron she said, “We shall begin our little punishment session with a hand spanking over my lap. This is a junior girl’s punishment and I never expected to punish a senior in her last year at this school in this manner. However, I think because you behaved in such an immature manner to Mrs Lewis I think it is only appropriate. Now bend over my lap.”

Almost before I could react, she grabbed my shirt-sleeved arm and pulled me down. I almost stumbled and had to stretch out my other arm to support myself on her lap. Before I knew it, I had both hands flat on the floor with the toes of my flat nurse’s shoes resting on the floor on Anne’s right side. I felt weird and humiliated and I started to protest but Anne was clearly in charge and she said, “Saunders, you had better not resist me. I am not only stronger than you, but you will find that I really know how to do this. Your best bet is to accept your fate and take it like the grown-up young lady you are supposed to be.”

I felt her right-hand run across the pleated serge of my gymslip over my bottom and she said, “We shall start with a simple smacking of your bum. Do not attempt to move, and keep your hands flat on the floor. If you try to make a mockery of this punishment I shall have no option but to make it even more severe than I plan it to be, and I may still have you expelled anyway.”

I tensed myself, wondering just how hard she would spank me and felt more humiliated than I had ever done in my life. In the back of my mind, I wondered what the staff at my hospital would think if they ever learned that I had been spanked over the lap of a ward Sister. Anne’s first smack landed on my right buttock cheek and the truth is it felt like a simple pat. It certainly didn’t hurt and when the next one also caused no distress on my other buttock I let out the breath I had been holding on to and started to relax. The smacks weren’t exactly gentle but I began to realize the thick woollen serge material of my gymslip was actually absorbing Anne’s efforts and I began to hope that I could really take a lot of this even as she began to speed up and hit me with increasing power.

However, after about twenty or so smacks she paused and said, “Well I am sure you are getting a nice little massage but I can see that your childish uniform is protecting you. Let’s see what we can do to fix it.”

The smacking stopped and I felt her raise the pleated material of my gymslip skirt up and over my back, and I could suddenly feel a cold draft on my thighs.

“Oh, look what we have here,” said Anne, almost in glee. “A beautiful black satin garter belt holding up her posh stockings and covering up her black satin panties. Where is your school uniform knickers, girl? Those panties are not regulation. For the next three months on weekdays, immediately after breakfast and before assembly, you will report to my office where I shall give you a school uniform inspection just like one of the first-year girls. And if I am not available I’ll have one of the prefects do the inspection instead. And don’t think you will get away with wearing anything but regulation knickers on a weekend, girl. I will make sure I have a prefect do a random inspection sometime during the day to make sure all your uniform is perfect. And woe betides you if you are dressed in anything other regulation underwear and that your uniform is not impeccable.”

As she said this little speech, I felt her pull my panties down to my knees and manoeuvre my garter straps to the side. Then her hand went to work again on my backside. This time I could feel it and, after ten or so smacks, it was starting to hurt. I began to toss my head from side to side feeling my ponytail lash across my back. It wasn’t exactly painful and I knew I could still tolerate a lot more, but I began to wish she would slow down since the one buttock cheek didn’t have time to quite recover before she had hit the other one and was hitting the first one again.

But, if anything, her tempo increased as well as her power. Each spank sounded like a pistol shot and I could feel my bottom jiggling up and down.

“Ahh, that’s better, Saunders. It is a pity you can’t see the wonderful colour that your bottom is turning. It is a wonderful shade of dark pink and I am sure it is starting to feel a little warmer there.”

Anne was right. I was certainly starting to feel warm, but there was something else. When she had spanked me over my gymslip, my relief at being able to take it had been linked to a little disappointment that it hadn’t actually been as exciting as I’d hoped. But now the repeated sting and the increasing glow began to get my attention. I felt hot and excited and, if anything, I realized with a sort of shock that, although it hurt, in a weird sort of way I wanted it to hurt more. I now started to wriggle a little, to grind myself into her thighs and she wrapped her left arm around my waist to try and hold me steady.

I was really starting to get into it when suddenly I heard Marilyn yell, “Cut, but hold your positions,” and I almost moaned in frustration.

Anne stopped immediately and I saw out of the corner of my eye, Marilyn get up from her desk and walk over to one of the cameras.

“Girls, you are doing very well, but I need to adjust the camera on Lynne’s face. And Lynne, I can see that you are enjoying this and that is ok, but you don’t want the audience to see that. The last thing you should ever do is to allow the camera to see your enjoyment. Besides, if you enjoy it too much, early on, it will make more discipline later a little harder to take.

“Anne, you are doing an excellent job, but make sure you are always in control. Don’t let Lynne control the proceedings. If she starts to wriggle around, caution her, or hold her down but whatever you do, remain in control. And if your hand is hurting, you are welcome to use that leather paddle on the desk behind you.

“No don’t get it now. Wait until I resume the action, give her a few more spanks with your hand and then you can reach for it.”

There was a pause as Marilyn regained her seat then, “Action!”

I was irritated by the pause, but as soon as Anne started smacking me again, the wonderful feeling inside my thighs and pelvis resumed. In truth, it was starting to really hurt but I still didn’t want it to stop. I was hot and enjoying it and no longer cared about the movie. I just wanted the intensity to take me further. But then suddenly I felt Anne stop and then I felt her hand just slide across my bottom.

“Ahh,” she said. “I can see I am beginning to get through to you. However, we have barely started and I need a little something to protect my hand.”

As she paused, I realized I was breathing heavily and my bottom was now very sore. Suddenly I jerked as I felt something cold and very smooth rubbed across my buttock cheeks, and I realized she was now holding the leather paddle.

It occurred to me that this was going to hurt a lot more and I wasn’t disappointed. There was suddenly a rather loud crack and I almost jumped as I felt it hit my right cheek. This time the pain was more of a thud, but there was still the sting of her hand. However, it certainly hurt me much more than her hand and I gasped and began to breathe rather hard. She struck me again and I gasped and by the time she had hit me five times with that thing, I was moaning. Part of it was that I was moaning in frustration that the lovely excitement I had felt when she was hand-spanking me, was beginning to disappear. It now hurt me much more and I was losing that enjoyment. My legs began to kick off the ground one at a time, involuntarily, but still Anne continued to pound away with her new toy.

I suppose the sounds of the paddle hitting my naked flash were loud but I was now sobbing in pain and could no longer think straight. I began to cry and tears rolled down my cheeks and I began to hate Mrs Lewis, and that train guard sneak, whoever they were. My bottom was being deluged with pain and my sobbing became more desperate. It hurt, it stung and I so wished I had never screwed up. I felt the world shrinking down, to my own private space, where all I knew was that my bottom was being hit, over and over again, and I was just a helpless little girl. Suddenly I realized it had stopped and that Anne and Marilyn were talking to me.

A voice said, “Lynne are you alright, dear, did you pass out?”

“Err, n-n-no, no, I am ok,” I mumbled and I realized Marilyn was helping me get off Anne’s lap, and Anne was suddenly standing and hugging me. Her hugs felt wonderful and, now that she was so tall in her heels, I found my head nuzzling into her apron covered breasts. And I think that was one of the most wonderful feelings I had ever had.

After a minute we broke apart and we smiled into each other’s eyes. I suppose it was then that we both realized we were now lovers, despite the fact that we had yet to make love. It didn’t take me but a couple of minutes to come to my senses and, as we turned to Marilyn, she said, “Wow, you two, that was incredible. You both acted like total pros. Let’s wrap this up and go and eat.”

“But, I mean, but…”

“But what?” said Anne.

I picked up the cane off the desk and said, “But you haven’t caned me yet.”

Anne and Marilyn looked at each other.

“Oh no dear,” said Anne. “You have had enough for the first time. Don’t you think so Marilyn?” she said, looking to Marilyn for support.

“But my bottom is already so numb I probably won’t feel it. Besides, I want to try it. I want to know what the cane feels like. We have gone this far, and I am dressed for it, you have to admit.”

Anne looked at Marilyn helplessly, but Marilyn smiled. “Actually, Anne, she is right. Her bottom is probably quite numb and it probably won’t hurt her too much. Besides, the scene you two are making is wonderful and a caning would make it perfect. We might be able to sell it and if that were to happen I would make sure you get some of the earnings. I am not promising, mind you. I am not the videographer that my brother is and this was only a screen test, but he might be able to edit it into some useful footage. Do you want to try?”

Anne said, “Oh I don’t know, I am not sure.”

“But I am sure,” I interrupted. “I want you to cane me. I know it will hurt but I think I can do this. I want to do this. Give me three strokes. I want you to give me three strokes.”

“Well, maybe one, but…”

Before Anne could finish her sentence, I interrupted again with, “Three! I insist!”

Marilyn laughed. “It’s ok, Anne. She thinks she can take three, but I bet her eyes are bigger than her belly, so to speak. I have seen it time and time again. Just remember, Lynne, call out ‘Anne’ if it is too much, and don’t worry. You have already shown you can take enough to be on our cast member list.

“Don’t be afraid to stop and, Anne, I may stop it too. Just remember to cane her hard and accurately. Put them in the middle of her buttocks and remember, don’t go too high. Keep away from the spine and try not to let it wrap around to her flanks. Just do as I showed you while Lynne was getting changed and remember, no softies otherwise she will be in pain for nothing. Make the strokes count and allow about fifteen seconds for her to recover between them.”

“Well, if you are sure,” said Anne looking at me.

“I am sure,” I said looking back at her. “Let’s do it. I really want to.” I then turned to Marilyn and said, “How do you want to do this, with me bent over the back of the chair?”

“Hmm,” said Marilyn. “I think it would be best if you both resumed your positions with you over Anne’s lap. And your skirt up, and make sure your panties are back at your knees. Then let me get a couple of shots of you, Anne, rubbing the paddle gently over her buttocks and then you can order her to stand up. Tell her she is now going to be caned as a senior girl or something. Have her turn the chair back to face the desk and then have her bend over it. Tell her to spread her legs and threaten her not to move. You are good at making up dialogue. Just stay in character the both of you and remember, stop if I yell ‘Cut’”.

Marilyn fussed with the chair, and then some of the cameras and lights. Finally, she replaced the chair and had us resume our positions with me over Anne’s lap and then she was yelling, “Action!”

I felt the smooth leather paddle rub against my now very sore butt. My tears had dried but, remembering where we had been in the filming or at least the last part I actually remembered, I sobbed pitifully; at least I hope it sounded pitiful.

“Right, Saunders, you can get up. That was your little girl’s punishment for acting so childish to Mrs Lewis. Now it is time for a big girl’s punishment for underage drinking of alcohol in public. This will be the senior girl’s cane. You certainly deserve it.”

I slid off her lap in as ladylike fashion as I could and stood up feeling my gymslip fall down back over my bottom. I felt foolish and humiliated since my panties were still at my knees and stood rather idiotically as Anne, stood up, and smoothed her apron and turned the chair around.

When she was satisfied it was in the spot that Marilyn had shown her she said, “All right girl, bend over the chair. Place both hands on the seat in front and spread your legs so that your feet touch the inside of the chair legs.”

I tried to do this but my panties at my knees wouldn’t stretch that far. Seeing my predicament, she lifted my skirts up and tucked the hem into the girdle belt at my waist. She then slid my panties all the way down my legs and had me step out of them. She placed them on her desk. I now felt very naked, unprotected and on display. Yet there is no denying the fact that I was also very nervous and also flushed with excitement. My bottom, although sore, felt wonderfully warm and erotic, and also a little numb. For the life of me, I couldn’t have explained why I wanted to feel the dreaded cane, yet I did.

Suddenly I felt a tap in the centre of my bottom as Anne measured her aim. The rod was cold and I was vaguely surprised that I had heard no swishing sound since I had assumed she would flick it through the air a few times to show the audience how mean and rotten she was. This thought had barely had time to make me inwardly smile when, sure enough, I heard a loud swishing noise and a smack as the cane buried itself into my backside.

At first, I was rather surprised that it didn’t really hurt, but that surprise lasted but a brief instant. Suddenly I was overwhelmed with a sharp searing pain that flashed into existence like a nuclear explosion. I couldn’t think, but I immediately straightened up as my hands reached for my tortured backside. It felt like I had been cut in half and I had definitely had enough. Yet Anne clearly decided I hadn’t.

“Saunders, you will resume your position immediately. I know this is the first time you have ever been caned and I’ll allow you this one breakdown in punishment etiquette. However, if you let go of that seat or move again I shall repeat the stroke until we get it right. Is that clear?”

“I couldn’t believe it but I meekly answered, “Yes Matron.”

“Speak up girl, I can’t hear you.”

“Err, yes, err Matron,” as I stopped myself from saying, ‘Anne’.

“Very well, resume your position and no more silly manoeuvres.” She replied rather sniffily.

I bent over the chair back once again, trying not to think what I was doing, and took a firm hold on the seat in front of me. However, as I felt her tap me with the cane in a slightly lower spot I was surprised that the terrible stinging had faded quickly and it wasn’t too unpleasant. There was another swish and dreadful crack and again I felt like I was being cut in two. I gasped for air and this time desperately tried to hang on to the chair’s seat, succeeding by the slimmest of margins. I squeezed my eyes shut and counted slowly to myself and then, almost like magic, after five seconds the dreadful fire faded. And as it faded I once again appreciated a lovely burning sensation that replaced it.

Suddenly I realized that I might actually get through this if I could just hang on for those first few seconds after the stroke.

“All right Saunders, one more to come. But, as I am sure you know, the last one has to be the best. Let me see if I can give you one so you can truly remember this experience.”

There was a loud swooshing sound as I tensed myself for the terrible blow. But fortunately, it came in the meatiest and centre part of my butt and, though it hurt like hell, it wasn’t as bad as I feared. I moaned and screamed a little bit, and soon the terrible sting had passed. I lay there panting, exhausted but feeling a wonderful soreness or fire that is difficult to describe.

“Cut!” yelled Marilyn. “But hold your positions. That was truly incredible, bravo, congratulations and all that. I wouldn’t have believed it possible. But we must end this right. When I yell action next time, Anne, I want you to help Lynne off the chair and support her as you stand her in the corner. I shall follow with a hand-held camera. Make sure her skirt is tucked up properly so we can see those wonderful marks. Lynne, stand in the corner and try not to slump over. It will only be for a couple of minutes while I get a long shot of you.

“Then Anne, once you have made sure she can stand on her own, give her some instructions like she has to stand there for the next hour or something. Then return to your desk and open the black ledger there and I will film you entering her punishment in the book. All right? Action!”

Although I heard her, at the time I had only the vaguest notion of what she was talking about. Instead, I was just sort of euphoric that I had made it.

“All right, Saunders,” said Anne. “You can stand up. Let’s get you into the corner where you can think about your sins and your punishment. Just remember that if you ever do anything like that again, I can always make it worse.”

She helped me up off the chair and placed an arm around my waist and supported me as I hobbled over to the corner. There she placed me facing the two walls and she then fussed with my gymslip hem behind my back, making sure it was tightly tucked into my girdle along with my shirttail and thus making sure my bottom was on display. I was vaguely aware of Marilyn in the background, but I didn’t really care. I was just euphoric that I had gone through it without making a fool of myself.

I was proud of myself and more than a little elated that I had survived something I never thought I would. My bottom was still very sore but somehow it wasn’t unpleasant at all. Maybe it was the endorphins that my own brain had put out to block the pain, but I actually felt good and was pretty sure that if I had to, I could have taken more. And I grinned to myself that one day soon, if I could keep Anne interested in me, then perhaps I would get a chance to see how many I could really take.

“Now,” began Anne once more, “place your hands on your head and keep facing the wall.”

And when I barely began to move, she repeated, “Did you hear me, Saunders? I said place your hands on your head. I do not want you trying to rub and soothe your backside. You can stand there for one hour, so hopefully, it can sink in.”

Slowly, feeling desperately childish, I raised my arms and clasped my fingers together and placed them on my head. I heard her heels rattle on the floor as she made her way over to her desk and heard her move the chair as she settled herself comfortably behind the desk. Although I couldn’t see and was a little afraid to move because I wasn’t sure if the camera was on me, I heard her open the black ledger and a pen scratch on paper. I must have held my position for over five minutes in excruciating silence and my arms were beginning to ache when I finally heard Marilyn shout, “And cut!”


I suppose, dear reader, that in my references to videotapes and nurse’s uniforms with aprons, you will have realised that all the above took place sometime in the past. In fact, that screen test took place just over thirty years ago and much has happened since then. But that night is special in my memory because it was the first time I really got to meet and be with Anne.

Soon after that, we started sharing a house together and over the next ten or so years we made a fair number of adult films, invariably involving spanking and sometimes bondage. We never made a lot of money but it did help us finally purchase our own home. Perhaps surprisingly, we also stayed in nursing and our colleagues never found out about our extracurricular activities. Gradually, however, I grew too old to play the schoolgirl and younger actresses began to take my place. Angela still does play the odd role as an older Domme and I may get a small role, such as an older prisoner in a judicial type setting, but these opportunities are now rare.

It is fun staying in contact with our friends in the business. However, we gradually found other things to do, perhaps the most interesting being running our own retirement home. Anne and I are still together and I suppose she is still in charge. Our bedroom is well equipped with many souvenirs from our spanking movie days and somehow Anne seems to find plenty of reason to put them to good use, usually on my backside. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

The End

© Angela Fox 2018

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