Chapter 2

In a way, all the commotion I’d created turned out to be a good thing. The relief of still having my job drained all the tension I’d been feeling and I went straight to sleep when I got home, not giving the audition another thought. Getting a good night’s sleep was the best thing I could have done for my nerves.

The next day, I settled on painting my own nails and getting my tan done at a community college—I was a shaking bundle of nerves the entire time, praying that the girl who was helping me knew what she was doing.

In the end, I was able to scrape up the money to have my hair professionally cut and highlighted at one of the better salons in the city. I knew I would go without meat for the next two weeks, but I liked Ramen, anyway, and if I got the part, it would be worth it.

The scene I’d made last night had been a close call. In a way, it had been humbling. It made me realize that Olivia was right—I couldn’t afford to be choosy and turn my nose up at a good paying job if it were offered to me. I was determined to do my best; even though I had no idea how good I would be at whimpering like the scene called for.

I arrived to the audition early and sat in the back of the theatre, mouthing my lines as I read and reread them.

“Callie Thomas?”

My head jerked up, and I pushed myself to my feet. “Here. I’m here.”

“All right, you’re up,” one of the ladies from casting told me. The other two at the table had their heads bent over their notes, and hadn’t even looked up. “We cast the role of Richard yesterday, so he’s going to read with you, okay?”

“Oh.” I hadn’t prepared to perform with anyone, but I knew I’d have to make it work. “All right.”

“It’ll give us a better idea of your chemistry together,” she explained.

“Right. Of course.” I walked toward the stage, reminding myself to breathe, went up the stairs with shaking legs and placed myself directly in the center of the stage, trying to keep myself calm. I could see a man on stage, out of the corner of my eye, but his back was turned to me.

“Whenever you’re ready,” she prompted. I noticed that the other two directors still hadn’t looked up, and it made my breath come in quick, short bursts. I tried to focus on what I had to do, to clear my mind of everything but the script.

“I’m sorry,” I began, faltering. Suddenly, I saw my reading partner turn toward me, and I caught my breath. It was Mr. Condescending, in the flesh. He was the male lead for this movie? I was so sure last night that he wasn’t anyone who mattered. Then again, if he was just an actor, like me, that was close enough to being nothing.

“You seem to find yourself saying that a lot lately,” he quipped, and I started to narrow my eyes at him and fire back a retort, when I realized he was just reading his lines.

“Yeah, but that’s just because…” I took a deep breath, and winced when I realized how shaky my voice was coming out. Being face to face with him, after all that happened last night was making me really nervous.

“Excuses, excuses,” he shot back. “I’m fed up with it, Lori! Something has got to change around here, and I think it might be your attitude.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your attitude, babe. You’re being lazy and thoughtless and that has to stop, do you understand?”

“I’ve got a lot going on right now, Richard,” I said, a tad bit whiny. “You don’t understand the kind of stress I’m under—”

He arched an eyebrow. “Stress?”

“Richard!” I exclaimed, pouting. “It’s true.”

“Regardless of anything you have going on outside this house—” He took a menacing step toward me and I backed away. “I expect you to treat me with respect. Understand?”

“Okay, okay,” I mumbled. “I understand.”

“What was that?”

“I understand!”

“Did I say that I couldn’t hear you, Lori? I was waiting for a more respectful answer.”

I was praying that one of the directors—all three had their eyes glued to the stage now—would call out ‘cut’ and that they would have seen enough. Unfortunately for me, they didn’t, and following through with the script Mr. Condescending scooped me up effortlessly and sat on the chair provided for this very purpose.

Being over his knees was humiliating and I couldn’t help but squirm on his lap. Part of me had been wondering if he’d recognized me—sometimes people didn’t recognize me out of uniform—but from the first swat he landed on my jeans, I knew that he had. I knew that, far from following the script, he was using this as an opportunity to show me how angry I’d made him.

I tried to focus on the script, and the cues I’d memorized. Instead, all I could concentrate on was the hard, stinging spanks he delivered rapid-fire to my behind. I couldn’t help but groan and twist, trying to get away. He held me firmly in place and landed another half dozen before one of the casting directors yelled, “Cut!”

Mr. Condescending—who, I learned from listening to the casting directors, was really named Kurt—stopped immediately and helped me off his lap. “Good work,” he said, and I flushed from embarrassment, averting my eyes.

I listened to the standard preamble of the directors. Someone would be in touch, they would let me know, great job, thanks for coming in, yadda, yadda.

“May I walk you out?” Kurt asked.

“Um, you don’t—that’s not really… you know, I know where I parked and everything.” My stammering made me blush hotter. I couldn’t seem to get out a complete sentence around this guy, although I certainly hadn’t had that problem last night.

“I thought as much. But I didn’t offer to help you find your car, I offered to take you to it.”

I nodded, still avoiding eye contact. “Okay. Yeah, sure.”

“I meant what I said. You did a good job today,” Kurt said as I led the way.

“Oh, uh, thank you. You… you’re an actor?”

He chuckled, and I could have died on the spot. When had I become a babbling idiot? “Something like that. And you, I take it, are an actress. When you’re not waiting tables.”

We’d come to the parking lot, and I turned to face him. “Listen, I really, really am sorry about that. I had no business…” I trailed off with a shrug.

“You didn’t,” he affirmed. “Which is why I am giving you the bill for my suit.”

I blinked at him, wondering if I’d misheard. “I’m sorry, what?”

“My suit. The one you ruined? It cost three hundred dollars.” He said it casually, but hearing the sum knocked the breath out of me.

“How ruined?” I asked helplessly.

“Ruined,” he confirmed. “As it turns out, Egyptian silk doesn’t do well with vodka. And the shirt…”

I nodded. I remember what I did to his shirt. “I, um, I guess I can pick up some extra shifts and…” My mind was spinning. I had no idea how I was going to come up with that extra money. I started walking again, and I didn’t stop until I reached my car. It seemed like a sanctuary from the madness, and I leaned against it as though it was all that was holding me up.

“I realize that you don’t have that kind of money,” Kurt was saying. I hadn’t even realized he’d kept following me. “But I shouldn’t have to replace it. And since the attack was so unwarranted I feel that it’s fair.”

I winced at the word ‘attack’ but I didn’t protest. He was right—what I had done was uncalled for, and now I was suffering the consequences. “I’ll get you the money.”

He smiled warmly, and it completely transformed his face. He had a tan complexion, one that, unlike mine, looked natural. His green eyes crinkled when he smiled, and there looked to be bits of gold in his irises. As I appraised him, it occurred to me that his body was made for spanking women. He had the broad shoulders, the long arms and the large hands. I could vouch from experience that they could inflict pain on a tender bottom.

“There might be another way,” he was saying, and I raised my eyes back to his face. He really was handsome, in a rich, well cared for way. His jaw was strong, and he had a perfectly sculpted face. By definition, he was a pretty boy, and I remembered why I seemed to instantly dislike him so much. I’d never had much use for pretty boys, and I had no patience for them. Add to that the fact that he had pretty much been a jerk…

“What is that?” I asked.

“I could spank you.” He sounded so serious, but I couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled to my throat.

“I’m sorry?” I asked, trying to wipe the smile off my face. “You could what me?”

“Spank you,” he repeated, his face devoid of even a trace of a smile. “You can’t afford to pay for my suit, and I’d rather not have to take you to court—”

“Why, thank you,” I said, but he ignored my sarcasm.

“But you can’t just get off scot-free. You need to be punished.”

Shaking my head at him, and trying to ignore the tense knots that were forming in my stomach, I searched my purse for my keys. Finding them, I put the key in the lock, and turned it. Only when I’d opened the door, did I feel comfortable enough to turn back to him. “Listen, Kurt, I’m really sorry about what happened. It was beyond rude of me, and I’m sorry about that, but I’m not going to let you, uh, punish me, as you put it.”

“Why not?”

He seemed so sure of his logic that I struggled for a few seconds to reply. “Because it’s barbaric!” I said finally.

He arched an eyebrow, as if to ask, ‘Is that the best you can do?’ “Don’t you deserve it?”

“Um, well, I…” I faltered, searching for an answer. The truth was, of course I deserved to be punished for what I’d done. I should have lost my job, but because of excellent service in the seventeen months I’d worked there, and the fact that I had let my boss think it was an accident, I’d gotten off easy.

“Let me ask you this,” Kurt said, and I couldn’t help but notice how soft and warm his voice was when he wasn’t snapping at me. “What happens if you don’t get this job? How will you pay me back?” He seemed to know that I didn’t have an answer for him, and plunged ahead. “Wouldn’t it be easier to admit what you did was wrong, and accept the consequences?”

“You were mean to me,” I said, in a voice that came out sounding small and frightened.

“I know.” He reached to take my hand, and to my surprise, I let him. He had long, strong fingers, and his touch felt nice. I hadn’t felt the touch of any man since I’d left my boyfriend behind in Wyoming. “I’m sorry for that, Callie. Really, I am. You’ll have to take my word for it, but I’m not normally such a jerk.”

The apology caught me off guard, and I felt myself relaxing. “I was having a bad night,” I admitted. “I was so worried about this audition it was all I could think about.”

“You did great,” he assured me, and the unexpected compliment brought tears to my eyes. The truth was, I had been so lonely since I’d moved to New York. Between work and auditions, I hadn’t had any time to make friends, and New York was a different world from the small town I’d grown up in. There were more opportunities here, but it seemed so much harder to meet people.

“Thank you,” I said, and left it at that because I wasn’t sure if I could keep the emotion out of my voice.

“Now, what are we going to do about this, young lady?”

I couldn’t help but shiver at his words, and it was a mixture of both dread and excitement. “I said I was sorry.”

“Yes, you did. But you need to show me with your actions, not just your words.” He sounded so firm and immovable, and I knew he wasn’t going to change his mind and let this go.

“I just… can’t I have some time?”

“I’m afraid not, honey. I need to know now. What’s it going to be? Do you want to write me a check, or…?” He left it hanging there, the question he didn’t need to voice.

I was still shaken by the fact that he’d called me ‘honey’. Between the sweetness of his touch, and the way his eyes were focused on me so intently, this man was luring me into his web to a point where I might be hopelessly entrapped. If I let him spank me, I could find myself doomed, and smitten with him. I didn’t need that right now. I couldn’t afford that right now, I had to concentrate on work.

On the other hand, he was right. I did owe him, and we both knew that I didn’t have the money to pay him back and probably wouldn’t anytime soon. Once again, I was ruing the day I stepped on the bus that had brought me here. If I hadn’t, I’d probably be married right now, maybe with a kid or two, not vying for a role where I showed my butt for the majority of the film, or deciding whether or not to be spanked in a parking lot. I just felt so overwhelmed and worn out, and though I tried to stop it, I felt tears trickling down my cheeks.

I turned away to hide my face, but Kurt had been watching me too closely to miss my tears. He put a hand on my shoulder and turned me back around to face him.

“Hey, it’s okay. Don’t cry, Callie. Everything’s all right, we’re going to work something out, okay?”

Who was this guy? Where was the belligerent stranger I’d met last night? Or had he been telling the truth? Had he just been having a bad night? I was the last one who could fault someone for that.

“I just feel so awful,” I said, burying my face against his soft, linen shirt. “I’ve never, ever d-done anything like that in my l-life! My mother would be so… s-so disappointed in me!” I wailed, starting to cry harder.

“Shh, shh,” he whispered, rubbing my back as I cried.

“I just… I n-never should ha-have come here. I’m such a—such a failure.”

“Stop it, Callie.” Kurt took hold of my shoulders and pushed me back so that he could look me in the eye. “Stop it right now.”

I didn’t know what it was about him, but he said each word with authority and clearly he was used to being obeyed. So I wiped my eyes, bit down on my lip and tried to stop. It took a few deep, quavering breaths before I managed.

“There, that’s a good girl,” he cooed, and I felt something flutter inside of me. “Listen to me, you are not a failure. Stop saying that. I don’t want to ever hear anything like that leave your mouth again, understand?”

Part of my brain said that this was ridiculous—I didn’t have to stand here and be lectured and ordered around by a man that I barely knew, who, in fact, had been rude to me the night before. However, my eyes hadn’t left his, and something about what he was saying soothed me, reached down to my core where all my insecurities lay, and I found myself nodding.

“Yes, sir,” I replied, and even though I’d never called a man ‘sir’ before in my life, the words came out naturally.

He rewarded me with a quick hug. “There, don’t you feel better now?”

Still sniffling, I nodded, and attempted a small smile. “I do.”

“Good. Now, we still have the other matter to discuss.”

“Other matter?” I repeated, feeling my heartbeat speed up. Of course, I knew exactly what he was talking about, and I could see from the way the corners of his mouth were twitching that he knew it, too. He has such nice lips, I thought to myself, more berry red than pink, with such a nice strong jaw underneath.

“What have you decided?” he asked, jarring me out of my thoughts.

“I… well…” I steeled myself to answer him; throwing back my shoulders, I met his eyes. “It would be good practice, right?”

I couldn’t believe that those words had come out of my mouth. Still, they were out there, and there was nothing I could do to take them back. All I could do was wait, and watch for Kurt’s reaction.

“Practice?” he echoed dubiously.

“Yeah, you know,” I laughed nervously. “For the show.”

“Oh.” Something clouded his eyes, but I wasn’t sure what. “Callie, I need you to understand that this is not going to be anything like the spanking I gave you in the audition.”

“What?” I was growing more nervous with each passing second. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that you’re going to be getting a real punishment spanking, not a few light taps.”

I frowned. They hadn’t felt so light to me. “Well, um…” The thing was, the thing that I didn’t know quite how to say, was that I hadn’t been spanked by anyone, ever, except my mom. And that had been over a decade ago.

“It’s up to you,” he reminded me, still patient and gentle.

I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he and I had gotten off on the wrong foot. Looking at him, with his kind eyes—his reddish blond hair was falling over one eye—I felt like I could trust him. I found myself wanting to trust him. I couldn’t deny that I was starting to feel nauseous with fear, but I really didn’t have many options open to me right now.

“Okay,” I said. The word almost stuck in my throat, and when I finally managed to cough it up, it sounded more like a croak.

Kurt gave me a sympathetic smile, and squeezed my shoulder comfortingly. “Okay, then. Let’s hop in the backseat.”

I swallowed nervously. “Here?” I squeaked. “In the parking lot?”

“Where else do you suggest? My place?” I started to answer when he leveled me with a stern glare that prompted me to snap my mouth closed. “Do not let me hear of you ever going to someone’s apartment when you don’t know them, Callie. Do you know how dangerous that is?”

“I barely know you,” I pointed out.

That wrung out a reluctant smile. “All right, smart mouth. You can take your chances with footing the three hundred dollar bill.”

I found myself returning the smile, despite the fact that my stomach was in knots. I couldn’t help but feel comfortable with him. “I’m going to trust that you’re the one man in New York who won’t take advantage of me?”

He nodded gravely, and in a move that was almost comical, he reached around me as I stood with the driver’s door open, hit the unlock button, opened the back door and gestured for me to climb inside. I did, not without trepidation. What had I gotten myself into? Why couldn’t I just have behaved myself last night? Or, barring that, given the table to someone else?

I scooted to the far side of the car, sitting as close to the door as I possibly could. As soon as Kurt entered and sat down, closing the door, he motioned me over his lap.

“What? No small talk?” I quipped, but neither of us smiled. Sighing, I scooted closer to him. I was within reaching range, but I couldn’t bring myself to lie over his lap. Seeming to sense my hesitation, he took my hand, gave it a gentle squeeze and then tugged me over his knees. I found myself staring down at the floor of my car, and noting that I needed to vacuum.

The truth was, the sensation of being over his lap wasn’t altogether unpleasant. I remembered going over my mother’s knees for the occasional spanking, and I recalled that her knees had always dug into my stomach painfully; but in a weird way, I seemed to fit perfectly over Kurt’s lap.

“I’m not going to take your panties down this time,” Kurt said. This time? I found myself thinking, my head spinning at the implication. “But these pants have to come down. Okay?”

I nodded mutely, and he slid them down my cheeks without even unbuttoning them. I felt my skin prickle, and I squirmed just knowing his eyes were focused on my backside. With a start, I remembered that I was wearing the least sexy pair of panties I owned. Not that any of my underwear would have classified as sexy, really, but the ones I was wearing now were faded pink, with the elastic hanging out and the lace falling off. They were the panties I’d worn when I got my first audition nearly two years ago, and I wore them to every audition for good luck. Just knowing that he was seeing them, in all their shabby glory made me want to throw myself into traffic.

Without any further discussion, Kurt began peppering my bottom with swift, sharp smacks. They hurt and instantly distracted me from agonizing over my choice of underwear.

“What you did last night is inexcusable,” he scolded, paying special attention to the backs of my thighs. “I was well within my rights to have you fired.”

“I know,” I gasped, reeling from the painful onslaught. With each smack to my tender globes, I found myself growing more panicked. I needed—no, I had to get off his lap. When I’d agreed to the spanking, I’d forgotten how much they hurt—and my mother’s had certainly never been anything like his!

He rained slap after slap down on my behind, focusing most of his energy on my sit spot. I could feel my skin heating up with each spank. “You are never, ever going to play tricks like that on anyone; do you hear me?” He punctuated his command with swats that hurt even more than those preceding them.

“I hear you!” I exclaimed, hoping for respite. I didn’t get it. If anything, Kurt stepped on the gas, and began delivering wallops that brought tears to my eyes.

“Admit it,” he ordered. “You did it on purpose.”

“Oh, no,” I groaned. “I am so… so… s-orry, Kurt!”

“Admit it,” he repeated, smacking each cheek in turn.