A young woman is tempted by a spanking film maker

By Julie Baker

My name is Poppy Granger. I’m 23 and live in a small flat in Solihull, which is on the west side of Birmingham towards the airport. However, if you are from Solihull you are proud of it and you don’t tell people that you are from Birmingham! I was born and brought up in Solihull and I can’t imagine living anywhere else despite having no local family ties these days. My father and mother separated when I was a baby and my father soon after emigrated to Australia. I’ve never seen him or had the chance to get to know him. My mother was only 19 when she had me, her only child, and at that time she worked as a fashion model. I don’t know what type of work that involved, and by the time I went to school she had retrained as a hairdresser to give her less travel and a more regular income.

My mum was, and still is, stunningly beautiful. She is a person who is always the centre of attention in a busy room, and when she walks down the street people will openly turn to look at her. She has also been a great mum. Life must have been difficult for her as a single parent, but she made me feel secure and I was always well provided for, both emotionally and materially. She must have had loads of opportunities to remarry, but she dedicated herself to looking after me until I was able to live independently. That said, as soon as I left school at 17 and moved out into my own flat, she did find a new partner and now lives in the south of France. She is in touch, but we rarely get the chance to meet up.

To look at, my mum and I are very obviously mother and daughter. We are both tall and willowy with straw-coloured blond hair, attractive faces and firm, strong builds. I was a county standard runner in my school days but that was my only area of excellence, unfortunately. I was OK at English, but my mathematical skills were dreadful and I couldn’t see the point in the other subjects that we were forced to study. I was a popular girl with many friends of both sexes and I managed to stay out of trouble despite my limited academic achievements. I was simply trying to enjoy those years as best I could with the plan of leaving school as soon as possible.

After school, I got a job in the local supermarket where I either worked on the tills or stacked shelves. It was a 24-hours store and I managed to boost my earnings significantly by working night shifts to finance living on my own in a little bedsit. I loved the independence and, for a couple of years, this arrangement worked fine. However, I realised that, given my lack of academic qualifications, my prospects for promotion and more money were very limited. I had a friend who worked at an estate agent in Solihull and she encouraged me to apply for a job as a real estate negotiator. This sounds grand, but most of the job simply entailed showing clients round houses that were up for sale.

Anyway, I got the job based on my attractive, outgoing personality alone and started there when I had just turned 19. All went well to begin with. The money was better than the supermarket and I was able to earn extra through the agent’s commission scheme. But I’ve already acknowledged that I’m not the brightest of girls and, after a few months, my boss picked up that I was making mistakes. Maybe fine with someone being trained in a new job, but not when that person is making the same mistakes over and over again. His patience was wearing thin and the final straw came when I completely forgot to meet a client who was about to close on a very high-value sale. We lost that sale and a week later I was fired.

Yes, as simple and straightforward as that. He fired me. I hadn’t worked long enough to have any employment protection and he sent me packing with a month’s basic salary. It could have been worse, but by this stage my mother was in France and I had nobody to turn to for help. I was on my own. I could probably have got my old job back at the supermarket, but that wouldn’t have solved the original problem of limited opportunities. I gave myself a couple of weeks to come up with a plan B.

friend drew my attention to an on-line advert from a local company called Vindicta Arts who were looking for girls to do some modelling work. The advert said that they had well paid vacancies to fill to assist them in the production of high quality, sophisticated material for their erotic art department. This sounded interesting. I guessed that they would be looking for good-looking young girls and that there would be a degree of nudity involved, given the mention of the word ‘erotic’. I was fine with this and the tone of the advert suggested that there would be nothing too hard core or explicit involved. Anyway, there would be no harm applying as I could always back out if it wasn’t to my liking. Also, the premises were only a 10 minute ride on a No.4 bus from my flat.

I phoned the number in the advert and was invited for an interview at 10.00 am the following day. The lady I spoke to was called Linda and she said that I would be seeing her partner, Jason. She was quite specific about clothing. She asked if I had a sleeveless summer dress that was tight-fitting across my top half, with a flared skirt that I could wear on arrival, and if I could also bring with me a white T-shirt, skinny blue jeans and trainers that I could change into later. I confirmed that I had all these items and that I would see her the next day.

I had the perfect summer frock to wear and I loved my tight-fitting jeans. I also selected my favourite white satin panties and bra combo as I thought they would go well with both outfits. A good start on the clothing front, I thought, and I knew that I would feel smart and confident on arrival. I had woken up that morning full of optimism that the day could be a turning point in my life. After my morning shower, I looked at myself naked in my full length mirror and liked what I saw. My head was buzzing as I sat on the No.4 bus.

The place that I was looking for was easily found on a small industrial estate about a 5 minute walk from where the bus had dropped me off. It looked like a small factory unit with two offices at the front and warehouse space towards the rear of the building. There was a lady sitting behind a desk in the left hand front office who I assumed was Linda.

“Hello, I’m Poppy,” I said after entering. “I’ve got an appointment to see Jason at 10 o’clock.”

“Hi, I’m Linda,” the lady replied. She looked quite smart and must have been in her mid-thirties. “Thanks for coming in. Please take a seat and I’ll let Jason know that you are here.”

She disappeared into the back and soon returned with a rather handsome guy, also in his thirties, who I took to be Jason.

“Hi Poppy, I’m Jason,” he said. “Great to see you, and let’s hope that things work out between us this morning. I’m planning that we can have a short chat in the other office and then we can do a screen test before deciding if you are happy with us and we are happy with you. Does that sound OK?”

“Sure,” I replied.

He showed me into the office to the right of the entrance. It was small with just enough space for a desk and a single chair on either side. This was evidently Jason’s office, as the surface of the desk was covered by paperwork, phone, keyboard and a computer monitor. He sat in his chair behind the desk and motioned for me to sit opposite him.

“Thanks for coming in,” he opened up with. “I’ll explain how we do interviews here. First of all, I can see that you are a very pretty and attractive girl. That is a good start. In the next few minutes we can have a chat about your experiences and preferences and then, if all seems to be OK, we can move onto the practical part of the process. I’ll also discuss what we require from you and if everything falls into place we can discuss the financials. Does this sound OK with you Poppy?”

I nodded agreement but by this stage I was starting to feel a little nervous. The change of clothes request had set me thinking that, unlike any other interview I had ever experienced, there would almost certainly be a time when I would be required to undress. Jason’s next question went some way to confirming this.

“Are you OK with nudity, Poppy?” he asked.

Straight in, I thought. No messing around here!

“Yes I am,” I replied truthfully. “But I’m not comfortable with anything sexual, if that makes sense.” I wanted to establish my ground rules and would have been prepared to walk away if I wasn’t happy with Jason’s response to this.

“That is not what we are about here, Poppy. We want you to feel comfortable and you are free to leave anytime if any of our requests make you feel uneasy.”

“Thank you. That is good to hear,” I replied.

“OK, let’s get on then,” he said. “First of all, could you stand up, turn around, raise the back of your dress and lower your panties. I need to have a look at your bottom to check that you don’t have any tattoos and that you have the right amount of flesh back there to take a spanking.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Take a spanking? What was going on here?

“I’m sorry, Jason, but I think there has been some massive misunderstanding here. I thought that you wanted glamour models who looked good in clothes and possibly did a bit of partial nude work. I really didn’t think that you were involved in corporal punishment activities.”

Jason looked a bit annoyed and disappointed.

“Well, this is a first, Poppy. It’s a shame because I suspect you have considerable potential and I can hardly believe that you have turned up today not knowing what we do here. The clue is surely in the name of our company, given that Vindicta means ‘punishment’ in Latin, and who ever turns up for a job interview these days without checking out the organisation on their website?”

Fair comment. I did a feel a bit foolish.

“Well me, I suppose,” I answered truthfully. “And I haven’t got a GCSE in anything, let alone Latin.”

“OK, well I suppose this is where we are. I’m not sure how we progress from here but I suggest you let me have a look at your bottom, because if you don’t pass that part of the test then the rest is academic.”

I could see that he was a bit irritated with me. I think he was beginning to think I was a time waster. However, his request seemed reasonable and I had already told him that I was comfortable with nudity. So I stood up, turned my back towards him and with my left hand I raised the back of my dress. Then, with my right hand I pulled down my panties, exposing my bottom. I waited for him to pass judgement.

“I’ve got to say, Poppy, that is superb!” His voice had returned to being friendly. In fact a bit more than friendly. “That has to be one of the most spankable bottoms that I’ve ever seen. You will presumably know this already but, for me, it flares out from your slender waist in such a lovely way and it is beautifully rounded yet still quite compact. Your skin has a lovely creamy appearance and you have the perfect amount of flesh just above your gorgeously slim legs. That is close to perfection, Poppy. Can I feel it to check for the firmness?”

He couldn’t see it, but I knew that I was blushing. Such praise. And so unexpected. I was glowing with pleasure.

“Sure, Jason. No problem,” I replied.

Next moment, I could feel his hand running over my naked bottom. He gave one cheek a soft pat and then a gentle pinch, presumably to check the tone of my skin. He then pulled up my panties for me and I let my dress fall back into place.

“Take a seat,” he requested. After a brief pause he spoke again. “Poppy, I would have to say I would really love to work with you. I realise that when you came today you weren’t aware of what we did, but you are here now and let’s see if we can get something to work for both of us. You told Linda that you were currently unemployed, and we have money available for girls like you who can do a job for us. However, you need to be comfortable and we still need to do a screen test with you to check how you project yourself on film and whether you can cope with the pain involved in being physically punished. Can I make a suggestion?”

He didn’t wait for me to reply.

“So far, we haven’t filmed or recorded anything. What normally happens is that if we think we have someone who might be suitable then we offer her £150 for an hour of her time during which we film her being interviewed for 20 minutes and spanked for a further 40 minutes. We then retain the right to use the video on our website or on other platforms and you walk away with the cash. If things have gone well then we might be able to offer you further paid work. Does that sound like something that you might find attractive?”

I needed the money, but this sounded like a complete horror show. I wanted a bit more detail.

“So what would actually happen, Jason, and who would be involved?” I asked.

“I would do the practical work,” he replied. “And Linda would do the filming and recording. We aim for an edited 15 minute video out of the one hour of filming. During the interview, I would ask you simple questions about previous spanking experiences, thoughts on being physically punished and anything else that comes to mind. For you, I’m thinking that we should then go into the back studio and maybe do a slippering on your bare bottom to start with, in the home section. Then I’m thinking of getting you to change into your jeans, T-shirt and trainers for a scene that might have taken place in a school setting. You will be nicely warmed up from the slippering and six strokes of the cane across your jeans would be a good way to conclude. No role playing today Poppy, simply a test of how you look and react to the spanking.”

“I’m sorry, Jason, but I simply can’t do it. I’m not worried about the pain. My pain threshold is famously pretty high. I accept that I need the money, but it’s the feeling that this video of me is going to be out there potentially forever. Anyone might see it and ultimately could hold it against me. I apologise if I’ve wasted your time. I think I’m going to head off home now.”

“You can go if you want, Poppy, but would you change your mind if I increased my offer to £250? That’s a lot of money for one hour of your time.”

I looked down into my lap, slowly shaking my head. That was a lot of money on offer. Tempting, until I thought of having to gift my lovely bottom to this man to be slippered and caned. But I was desperate for the cash.

“OK Poppy, I’ll give you £500 if you agree to go through with the screen test this morning. That’s my last offer and is more than I’ve ever had to pay in the past. What do you say?”

“All right,” I replied. “We have a deal.”

The interview part was quite straight forward. Basically, I had nothing to offer in terms of actual experience, but I was able to talk about my nervous anticipation over what was about to happen to me and Jason seemed to like the idea that I was a ‘spanking virgin’. After 10 minutes, he suggested that we move the action to the studio next door.

“I suggest you leave your other clothes in the office, Poppy. You can come back in here to change when we’ve finished the first part. You can leave your panties in here also. You won’t be needing them for a bit,” he added casually.

I slipped my knickers down and stepped out of them. With a heavy heart I carefully folded them and put them with my other clothes. In my hour of need they were not going to be where they should have been.

It felt strange not having my underwear in place beneath my dress. I could feel my heart pounding as we went through the door and I saw the studio for the first time. The space was vast, but in each corner there was a well laid out set on different themes; home, bedroom, school and jail. I was pleased that Jason hadn’t gone for a judicial punishment in the jail corner. There were fearsome implements of punishment on the walls and plenty of restraining straps with an ominous looking ‘X’ shaped frame that didn’t require much imagination to work out its purpose. He directed me towards the home section which had a nice deep pile carpet, a three piece leather Chesterfield style suite and a glass topped coffee table.

“Right Poppy, I want you to lift up your dress as high as you can and then bend over the arm of the sofa. Get yourself comfortable and I’ll be back shortly with a plimsoll to give you six across your bottom. Linda will also be here to work the cameras, although there are some that work all day automatically recording what goes on in here.”

With this, he disappeared back into the front offices. I did as instructed. Baring my bottom in the empty studio was better than I expected but I was conscious of the background cameras recording my every move. I lay across the arm of the sofa with my feet on the carpet and my head buried in the leather seat cushion. My bottom was thrust upwards waiting for the punishment to start. I heard the distant sound of a phone ringing and then voices. I seemed to wait an age and all the time I was getting more and more nervous. Eventually Jason and Linda came back in. I glanced round. Linda had a hand-held camera, and Jason was carrying a large white plimsoll in his right hand.

“So sorry, Poppy,” Jason said. “I had an unexpected phone call that I had to take. I hope you’ve been OK, and thanks for getting into position. Lovely. Are you ready for the slippering?”

“I think so, Jason,” I replied. “Not too hard please!”

“OK, here goes, Poppy.”

I felt the sole of the plimsoll resting on my skin. He did a few little taps, then the first one landed. Wow! First of all it was the noise of the rubber-soled shoe meeting my firm flesh that was apparent, but this was then rapidly followed by a hot, stinging sensation that I wasn’t familiar with. I had never been hit with anything in my life, and certainly not on my bottom. It was bearable, though, and I waited for the next one to arrive. I didn’t have to wait long. The next one felt harder but it was probably more that it was hitting into the same target area. The next one confirmed this theory. The noise was what was most striking, but the pain was now beginning to build.

Half way though and I thought I was coping well. The fourth one really struck home. I was starting to think that I was going to struggle to take the full six. Jason had told me to use the word ‘stop’ if it got too much, but by this stage I wasn’t wanting to let him down. I was, after all, managing and it would soon be over. The fifth one caused me to let out a little whimper and the last one seemed to trigger a crescendo of pain followed by a bit of loud swearing from me. I was cross.

“God, that hurt, Jason!” I told him. “I asked you to go easy and you’ve beaten the living daylights out of me. Thanks for fuck all!”

“Sorry Poppy, but it had to be done. You did brilliantly, but your bottom is certainly a different colour now. There’s a full-length mirror in the bedroom corner if you want to take a look.”

I did just that. My skin was red and it had lost that silky smoothness that I was used to when running my hand over it. Anyway, that was the first part over with.

Jason wandered over and suggested that I changed into my jeans and T-shirt. I disappeared into the front office, took off my dress and removed my shoes. I was almost totally naked and was pleased to have a little bit of privacy at that moment. I put my panties back on and I was soon dressed in typical student garb. Tight jeans, tight top and white Nike trainers; my go-to outfit most weekends.

I was soon back in the studio where Jason and Linda were waiting for me.

“Six of the best with the cane, Poppy, and then you’re done. You look fabulous in your jeans, and they are perfect for you and us for this next sequence. For you, because they are made of sturdy denim, which is good news for a caning newbie, but also for us because your bottom looks so amazing in them. Come over with us to the school section.”

I followed them over and, after the desks and tables, the standout feature for me was the sight of the school cane hanging behind the teacher’s table at the front. It was about a meter in length with a crooked handle at one end.

“Are you planning on caning me with that, Jason?” I asked, pointing to the implement on the wall.

“Yes, that’s the general idea, Poppy. Normally there would be a bit of role playing, but not today. Six lusty strikes of the cane on your bottom, then you can collect £500 in cash from Linda and head home. Job sorted! Now, you can adopt the classic ‘touch your toes’ position here or bend over the end of the big table. The choice is yours.”

I wasn’t sure on that point, but I did know that I wasn’t relishing the use of the word ‘lusty’. I kept quiet, though, knowing that I hadn’t achieved much by asking him to go easy on me with the slippering.

“What’s best, do you think, Jason? I asked.

“For me, I love to see a girl bent over a table for a caning. Legs straight and together, with her top half flat on the table surface, arms stretched out beyond her head. A submissive scene to enjoy with her bottom presented perfectly for the caning. However, we also do lots of free standing canings and I still get pleasure from asking a pretty girl to ‘bend over and touch your toes’. Not sure from your perspective which is best. The table is clearly a hard surface with no give to help absorb the cane strokes, but touching your toes will stretch your skin more across your bottom, which could make the process more painful. What do you think, Linda? You should know!”

Linda hadn’t said much as she was concentrating on doing the filming with the hand-held camera. This was the first indication that she also took part in the practical side of the business. Now I looked at her, I could tell that she had all the attributes needed. Tall, dark and pretty with a very slim and toned body.

“Tough question, Jason. For my own relative comfort, I think I would go for bending over the table.”

“Good enough for me,” I replied. “The table it is.”

Jason had already told me how to position myself. The table was high enough that the surface came up to just below my hip bones, so when my top half was flat my legs were perpendicular to the floor. My hip bones were digging in a bit but I was able to shift my position slightly so that more of my weight went down my legs and through my feet. I stretched out my arms and was just able to grip the far end of the table. This seemed like a good thing to be able to do.

“Comfy, Poppy?” Jason asked.

“Yes thanks,” I replied.

I watched him to my right taking the cane off the hook on the wall. He gave it a couple of swishes through the air, which set butterflies going in my tummy. I was more nervous about the cane than I had been about being slippered. I might have been inexperienced, but even I could work out that the slipper was originally for naughty children, whereas the cane was a serious implement of punishment. This was going to be a step up, even though I was going to be getting it over my jeans.

Once again, I could feel Jason tapping my bottom, but this time it was the tip of his cane.

“Ready, Poppy? Six more coming up.”

He wasn’t waiting for an answer. I could hear the sound of the cane rushing through the air before the first stroke bit into my bottom. If the slipper generated a hot, glowing pain, this implement was instantly sharp and stingy. Very stingy. I let out a yelp, more out of surprise than anything else. That had really hurt me. The second one was lower down but still landing in the more fleshy part of my bottom. A similar sharp pain, but I was ready for this one and was able to stay quiet. The third one was higher up and again I took it well.

Maybe Jason was figuring out that I did actually have a pretty high pain tolerance, because the remaining three strokes were delivered with much more force. Also, he seemed to be concentrating on the area of my bottom low down, just above my legs. This was a much more sensitive area and I was soon struggling. I had never experienced pain like it, and I was gripping onto that table edge for dear life. The last one, to my embarrassment, reduced me to tears. I couldn’t help it. I sensed that Linda wanted to come over to comfort me, but she was still filming and it was therefore Jason who stood me up and put an arm around my shoulder.

“Sorry Poppy, but you were absolutely terrific. Worth every penny of the £500. Thank you so much.”

I actually felt quite proud of myself. I had taken two lots of ‘six of the best’ in one morning and I had earned enough money to pay next month’s rent. I had also had an interesting experience which had taught me a bit about myself and the making of erotic videos. As I left, Jason almost begged me to come back for more filming sessions, and I told him that I would think about it.

When I got back to my flat, I stripped off to have a shower. I inspected my once lovely bottom in the mirror. What a mess of redness, cane marks and the start of dark bruising. It took a week to heal and return to near normal.

I never went back. The money was great at the time but it was just simply not my thing at any level. Soon after, I got a great job in a luxury car dealership in the centre of Birmingham with a good basic salary and lots of opportunities to earn extra commission. I love it, and also now have a steady boyfriend who I met through work.

Jason pursued me for several months after that day, but I didn’t take his calls and eventually blocked his number. I simply wanted to move on and didn’t feel a need to be drawn back into that world of quick money.

The End

© Julie Baker 2022

Julie welcomes contact from her readers. Email at: julie.baker_cane@mail.com or Julie’s Twitter address is: @JulieBaker_cane