And Kiss Me Caroline

So, do you remember a few days ago I said that I'd get around to posting some new spanking stories in a little while? Actually maybe I hinted at it.

Either way I intended to put some new stories up here, in order to reaffirm my original intent for the blog.

So then, this isn't one of them. Strictly speaking this isn't a spanking story at all, although it is a story about a spanking. In fact it's simply a record of a role play that I performed with my dear spanking friend, the lovely Cherri, a few months back.

I suppose it's a little disingenuous to say it's not a story, as of course I have embellished a bit. The scenario (and a chunk of the dialogue) is still what happened in the play session. As you can imagine I had a great time.

Anyway, I hope that you enjoy this offering, to tide you over until I get around to putting some proper spanking fiction up here. 

Please let me know if you enjoy this.

And Kiss Me Caroline

I heard a commotion from the reception area, and the raised voice of my secretary.

“No, hang on! He's not free!”

The door to my office slammed open, bouncing off the wall. I was being honoured with a visit from Caroline Victoria Davenport.

My body shot to it's feet as my spirits travelled in quite the other direction.

Caroline was a tall women in her early thirties (my files revealed several different birth dates that she had offered), and undeniably attractive. As ever she was smartly dressed in a rather tiny and very tight skirt atop legs that appeared to reach to Heaven.

She fixed me with a hostile glare.

“It's just not good enough.”

She was not my favourite client.

“Ah, Caroline. My favourite client.” So sue me; agents tell lies sometimes.

“It's not good enough, I tell you. When are you going to get me some work?”

“Well, times are hard. People aren't spending as much on the theatre as they did.”

Caroline was a competent actress who had appeared in a couple of soaps a few years before, but now considered television below her. She was determined to pursue her muse on the stage. Her muse was less keen, and her pursuit of it was becoming tiresome.

Ambition is nice but I had my doubts. Mainly because, for all of her other qualities, Caroline herself wasn't nice.

“That's rubbish! You never send me out for any good roles.”

“I send you out for everything that I can. No one's working at the moment.”

“Crap! Tina and Sonia are both working. I wouldn't have minded the roles they got. Why didn't I?”

“Well, Tina and Sonia are both very well liked. In the business.”

“They're well liked? Those two little cows? I'm beloved.”

I looked at the ground. It showed no willingness to swallow me whole. What an entirely unreliable floor it was.

I shook my head, sorrowfully.

“Well, not altogether. You do have a teensy reputation for being, well, demanding?”

I was rewarded for this gem with a moment's silence. Caroline looked me up and down with a glare that suggested I was a cockroach found in her crunchie nut cornflakes.

“Demanding? Me? I'm a goddamn pleasure to work with. Ask anyone.”

“Um. Yes. Well. I'm very sorry, but not every one shares that view.”

“What on Earth are you talking about, you silly little man? Who are you talking about?”

“Hmm, just...people.”

“I am lovely to everyone I meet, you senile old fart! Name one thing anyone has ever said against me.”

I sighed, and straightened my shoulders. Turning, I reached behind me and lifted an often read piece of paper from my desk.

“Well, I have this list....”

“A list? A list? Who makes a list, for God's sake?”

“Remember that audition you did for the Desperate Housewives musical? You didn't get it....”

“That casting director was such a bitch!” Caroline roared over my sentence, and then threw herself into the chair that crouched terrified in front of my desk.

“Well, she certainly wasn't your biggest fan. She said you were late, rude, awkward, abusive, impossible to direct, resistant to suggestions and that you, erm, attempted violence.”

“That stupid women wouldn't know talent if it bit her arse. I was lovely, amenable and thoughtful. She has it in for me. She was a mousy little thing; probably jealous of my looks.”

“It's not just her though.”

Caroline screeched. In distant jungles startled birds took to the air.

“Who else dared....?”

“Well.” This wasn't going to go down well. “She had the note signed by...well, most of the casting directors in town. They'd really rather not see you for anything.”

Caroline swore, bitterly and foully. I resisted the urge to cover my ears; I had been in the Navy as a lad, and half of the phrases she used were new to me. I made an impressed mental note of the best of them.

“You know Caroline, that shade of red is rather unattractive on you.” I had ensured that my desk was firmly between us before hurling this grenade.

This time the windows shook as she displayed a quite credible falsetto squeal.

“That's it! You are fired! I will let you know my new representation shortly.” She stood and turned to leave my office.

“If you ask Denise in Reception she has a list of agents you might like to try out.”

Caroline spun around again.

“Are you so keen to get rid of me then?” Damn it. Never try to be helpful. I had shot myself in the foot. “I'm not so easily put off. Why don't you just do your job, you vile little man?”

I confess that by this time I was getting just a little tired of the constant abuse.

“This is no fun for me either, you know. If you're not working I'm not getting paid either. I send you out for everything you ask me about. Even when it costs me with the casting directors.”

“Now I know that's rubbish. I haven't been seen in three months.”

“You auditioned for McLintock – The Musical three weeks ago. And you slapped the director of that one.” I'm pretty even tempered but I didn't appreciate being called a liar. Well, not when I had been doing my best for her.

“Oh, I didn't care for him at all.”

“Yes, I know. You slapped him.”

“Well, the filthy minded little sod asked me to show him my bottom. Said it was a feature of the show.”

I was exasperated.

“Did you not even read the script? You were supposed to be chased around the stage in your underwear and then spanked. Eight times every week. With matinees.”

“What? Certainly not. How undignified.”

“It's a shame too. A daily spanking would do you the world of good.” I had advanced around my desk; all that stood between us now was an office chair.

I suspect that the look on my face was rather reminiscent of that glimpsed by the generals travelling with Hannibal as he advanced through the Alps.

Caroline backed up a step or two. She actually looked a little taken aback. I relished the change in her demeanour.

“Well, good meeting. I'm sure you'll have something wonderful for me soon.” She gabbled, chin on her chest as she warily watched my approach.

“I don't suppose that I can spank you every day, but a really good one now would be a decent start, I think.”

“Now Tim, there's no need to get carried away.”

I seized her wrist, and tugged her towards the waiting chair.

She made a noise somewhere between a squeal and a howl as I sat, her momentum causing her to fall face down across my lap.

“Tim, don't you bloody dare! Ow!”

The rather pleasing end to that particular line was elicited by my large rather hard skinned hand splatting against her raised bottom. The tight little skirt she wore flattened; it gave little protection against the smack.

Wriggling, she turned her head and looked back at me, my hand raised, about to provide the second of what I felt would need to be very many smacks.

“Now Tim, we can talk about this! Ow! There's really no need..Ow! This isn't..Ow! No! Stop! Youch!”

Caroline was never one to be easily silenced, and she kept up a stream of pointless conversation, regularly punctuated by cries of pain as my hand thoroughly spanked the whole surface of her rear end.

I remembered the delights and satisfactions of manual labour (as I mentioned, I spent several years in the Navy in my youth) as the muscles in my arm thrummed with each echoing spank. My hand alternated it's targets, ensuring that each buttock received its fair share of slaps.

With one particularly firm spank I paused, my hand resting lightly on the stretched surface of her skirt. It seemed to me that I was forgetting something.

“OW! Let me up! That's quite enough! You've made your point!” Caroline gasped, and tried to tip herself off my knee.

My left arm lay across the small of her back, and it refused to let her up.

“Well, I think that's a decent start. But I'm sure that this lesson would be more effective with a bit less padding.” It had come back to me after all.

“Padding! Do you mean my arse is fat?!” It certainly wasn't. “What the Hell are you doing?”

I had an answer to that. I had gripped the hem of her skirt and was forcing it up over the firmly fleshed mounds of her behind. Her efforts to wriggle away actually helped me in my endeavours.

“I don't suppose I'll ever have the chance to do this again, so I'm going to make sure the lesson is one that you'll remember. A good bare bottomed spanking is exactly what's called for!”

“You dirty old sod! Leave me alone. Don't you dare...OW!”

Her skirt raised Caroline's bottom lay revealed. She wore the briefest of thongs to preserve a modicum of her modesty but it did nothing to shelter her rapidly reddening cheeks from the meaty slaps of my right hand.

I smacked away at the taut surface, enjoying the feeling of elasticity as my hand rebounded time and again. There's nothing like flesh on flesh, and while I normally enjoy caressing a lady's bottom in this case punishing one felt just right.

“You've had this coming for a long time, my girl. And I'm just the man to give it to you.” I'll never make it as a writer with corny dialogue like that, but somehow it felt appropriate to the circumstances.

The vague blush that had initially dawned on Caroline's nicely tanned cheeks had grown rather deeper in colour; her struggles had peaked and now grew less, and her gasps had turned to rather pathetic sobs.

I gave a last few soul satisfying smacks; my hand rebounding from her bruised flesh even as the cracks of contact rebounded from the walls of my office.

Caroline lay limp across my lap. Perhaps I had broken her spirit.

“All done now.” I said, as I eased her back onto her designer heels. Caroline gave me a look that I found hard to interpret; it seemed both a little regretful and perhaps slightly respectful. I didn't believe that I'd seen either emotion on Caroline before.

I had pulled her skirt back into place, and her hands both crept around to cuddle her battered bottom. She rubbed at it gently, and the air hissed from between her pursed lips.

She seemed to be struggling for words. I felt it must fall to me to carry the burden of conversation.

“Okay then. That'll do. Go. Leave. I'll send a letter formally terminating our agency relationship.”

Caroline sighed, and, for the first time in a few minutes, her eyes met mine.

“No, no. Let's not be hasty.” she sighed. “Um. I may have...deserved that.”

It took a genuine effort of will not to fall from my chair. Shock can have some strange effects.

“You want to stay with me?”

“Yes. I think so. I'll...go now. I'll be in touch.”

With which rather surprising words Caroline turned and meekly limped from the office, gently pulling the door shut behind her.

I admit that I was rather perplexed. Whilst spanking Caroline was satisfying for the sheer joy of punishing her bratty behaviour, I had expected that it would finally force her to dump me in favour of an agent less likely to give her a sound spanking. Her demeanour did not suggest that I had been successful.

Actresses! They're a breed apart.

I turned to my computer. I supposed I'd better check the casting notices to see if there was anything I could convince someone to see Caroline for. Bugger!

Ta ta for now.

All the best

Tim

PS all pictures are from the wonderful (as I may have mentioned) Real Life Spanking and have absolutely no relevance to the story whatsoever! Nice though, aren't they?