Subject: "Sarita's Roundup" (Oilbuckle)-M/mf, nc
From: oilbuckle@aol.com (Oilbuckle)
Date: 1 Feb 1998 08:10:15 -0800
by Gordon X. Oilbuckle
(The following story is intended for adults only, and deals with the spanking of pre-teen and early teen children. If you are offended by the subject matter, don't read it.)
Sarita Villamonte opened her eyes and looked around the hotel room. The bathroom door was open a crack, and the light inside illuminated the room. Carlos Gomez was still snoring loudly in the other double bed, so his son Juan was evidently the one in the bathroom. Well, she wasn't about to wait for him. She slipped out of bed and, taking care not to disturb the others, walked to the drawer in which she kept her clean clothes.
It was the work of a moment to slip out of her pajamas and pull on her underpants and socks. Walking over to the closet, she quickly decided on her new blue dress. (She'd read that blue was Leland Dulac's favorite color.) Then, curious as to what was keeping Juan so long, she listened outside the door of the bathroom.
Sarita was surprised by how quiet it was. Juan didn't seem to be using the toilet, and probably would have closed the door if he had been. Nor was there the sound of splashing water she'd expect if he were taking a bath or a shower. It was time to make her entrance. She pushed open the door.
"Hey, I'm almost done!" whispered Juan. "Don't wake Dad!"
Juan was standing at the sink, with his face, to Sarita's astonishment, covered with shaving cream. His father's safety razor was in his hand, and he was vigorously shaving his cheek. He looked up, and what could be seen of his face noticeably reddened. "Uh, you won't say anything about this to him, will you?"
Sarita folded her arms and looked contemptuously at him. "Am I missing something? Since when do ten-year-olds need to shave?"
Juan tried to suppress a squeal as the edge of the blade broke his skin. "Well, it won't be too long before I need to. I figured now was as good a time to try it as anyone. And besides..."
Sarita sat down on the edge of the bathtub and shook her head in disbelief. "And besides?"
Juan was silent for a few seconds, then blurted out. "Angela." (Angela Hazlewood was the thirteen-year-old actress who played Leland's love interest in the movie they were making.) "I -- I guess I've liked her ever since "Home Fires" first came on TV, and today I'm actually in a scene with her..."
"Yes, all of two lines!" said Sarita, with the superior air of a young actress now playing her own first role with more than two lines.
"Well, you said yourself that a lot of kids who act are older than the characters they're playing. Maybe it wouldn't be so obvious she's three years older than me if I shave this morning." Juan looked up hesitantly as he scraped the last of the shaving cream from his face. "Uh, don't you think...?"
"What I think doesn't matter!" said Sarita, making no attempt to hide her amusement. "If you really think Angela Hazlewood is about to go out with you..."
"Who said anything about going out?" Juan asked, almost frightened as he poured a large amount of his father's aftershave lotion on his hand. "If she'd just sit near me at lunch..." He splashed the lotion on his face and continued, "This may be the only chance I'll get to meet her, and I've got to do what I can..."
"Well, I suppose it might work," said Sarita thoughtfully. "In fact, now that I think of it, I won't get many more chances to meet Leland Dulac, either." She stood up and reached for the can of shaving cream. "Let's see that."
"Are you crazy!" gasped Juan. "Girls don't shave!"
"Oh, yes they do. Just not their faces." Sarita sprayed the cream onto her palm, and began to rub it on her left leg.
"Dad might wake up any time!" whispered Juan nervously as Sarita continued to apply the cream until a large area was covered. She then reached for the razor and pulled it across her thigh. "Oww!"
"You get used to it," said Juan as Sarita bent to apply the cream all the way down to her ankle. "But you're using an awful lot of it! If Dad notices..."
"But he won't. And, at that, I've got a much better chance of pulling this off than you. One, I have a bigger part, and a lot more chance to interact with Leland than you do with Angela. Two, it's a lot easier when it's the guy who's older, rather than the girl." As she spoke, Sarita gritted her teeth and scraped the razor again and again down her thigh and calf, ignoring the scratches and shaking the can yet again to apply it to her other leg.
"And three," she continued, "everyone knows an eleven-year-old girl is far more mature and sophisticated than a ten-year-old boy!" She sat down again on the bathtub rim, bunching her dress in her lap so she could shave every inch of her thighs up to where her barely visible underpants covered them.
"That depends on the boy!" retorted Juan. "And the girl!"
Sarita stuck out her tongue at him, with a bit of difficulty since she was now contorting herself in order to shave the backs of her legs up to her knees. "Ooh!" she said as the razor drew blood once again. "Do you think this thing needs a new blade?"
"I don't know!" said Juan, glancing nervously toward the door to reassure himself that his father was still sound asleep. "I've never put one in myself!"
"Then this'll just have to do, won't it?" said Sarita as she stood up and turned her back to the mirror. She had to shake the can harder to get enough foam to cover the backs of her thighs, but ultimately did so. "But it didn't feel this uncomfortable before!"
"How does your brother do it?" asked Juan. "Haven't you ever watched him?"
"Yes, but he uses an electric razor." Sarita tried to get a glimpse of the area she was shaving, but succeeded only in scraping herself further. "It'd save us a lot of trouble if your dad did, too." She lifted her dress in the back as the razor approached the tops of her thighs.
"Ooooh, nice underwear!" giggled Juan.
Sarita snorted in exasperation. "It better be. My mother spent most of what was left from my last movie on new clothes. You could at least tell me if I missed any spots."
Juan poked Sarita's leg with a finger. "Just there... Ahh!" he went on as Sarita got there with the razor just as he was pulling his finger away. "I think that's it."
With a sigh of relief, Sarita poured out a handful of aftershave lotion and began to splash it on her stinging legs.
"I don't know," said Juan as Sarita continued to pour from the bottle. "I've never heard of a girl using Aqua Velva before."
"So what am I supposed to use?"
Juan picked up the bottle. "But Dad's sure to notice how much of it is gone. I'm afraid of what he'll do when he finds out!"
Sarita looked at him contemptuously. "I can see you don't know how to get away with things. We'll just fill it with water, and he'll never know the difference."
Juan pulled the bottle away. "No, not that! I'm not sure it'll even mix right!"
Sarita grabbed for it, her voice rising. "And I told you he'll never notice it!" Juan pulled away, but Sarita grabbed his arm. They struggled for the bottle, but Sarita's superior strength finally prevailed. She triumphantly yanked it from his hand, only to have Juan's grip tighten at the last minute. The bottle slipped from both their hands, and shattered with a crash on the floor.
"Brilliant, Sarita!" said Juan, hardly caring any more than he was almost shouting. "What are we supposed to do NOW?"
The door was suddenly shoved open, almost knocking Sarita down. "The question," bellowed Carlos Gomez, "is what I'M going to do now!"
Any hopes the children had of calming Juan's father down were dashed with his first step into the bathroom. He howled in pain and staggered back, collapsing on the bed and lifting his foot to examine the shards of glass he'd just stepped on.
Juan made the mistake of coming closer to him with a garbled attempt at explaining. Carlos abruptly put his foot back on the floor, lunged toward his son, and pulled him back toward him as he sat back down on the bed.
Juan tried to protect his bottom as Carlos pulled him across his knees, but his father pushed his hands away. Holding Juan firmly across his lap with his left hand, Carlos brought his right hand down firmly on the seat of Juan's pajamas.
"No, Dad!" wailed Juan. "I tried to keep it from breaking!"
Carlos only spanked him harder the next time. "You should NEVER have touched my razor in the first place!" With several more swats, he continued, "OR my shaving cream OR aftershave! Dios, what were you two THINKING? You're both WAY too young to shave!"
"Dad..." wailed Juan, but Carlos only continued to spank him as Juan roared with pain. He hadn't been spanked that often, but every time he had been he found it an extremely unpleasant, and painful, experience. At least Dad hadn't taken down his pants as he had several times before, no doubt because Sarita was watching, but his thin pajama pants offered very little protection. As the spanks continued to rain down on his throbbing bottom, he tried to suppress the tears as he begged his father to stop, but not until his entire bottom felt as if it was on fire did the spanks finally come to a halt.
When Carlos let him go, Juan rubbed himself as hard as he could, suppressing the urge to thrust his hands inside his pajamas and try to rub away the pain at its source. A glance toward the bathroom revealed that Sarita was trying to retreat inside, but in vain. The look on her face made it clear that she knew she'd be next.
If she'd been anywhere else, Sarita would have screamed loud enough to (as had happened on more than one occasion) bring the police, but now she was an up-and-coming actress, and it would never do to make a scene. So she tried to act nonchalant, forcing sympathy and concern into her voice. "That must have hurt, Juan!" she said. "I'll probably be in for it too when my mom finds out!"
"You won't have to wait that long!" seethed Carlos. "You know the arrangement your mother and I worked out."
Sarita knew it only too well. When her mother had authorized Carlos to give her as well as Juan the necessary adult supervision when they worked on a movie together, she'd also given him the go-ahead to discipline her by any means he found necessary. So she wasn't surprised to find herself being pulled over Carlos' lap, at least until he flipped up the back of her dress. "Hey!" she protested. "You didn't hit Juan on his linger... his underpants!"
"No, on his pajama pants," said Carlos as he began to spank Sarita. "Same thing."
Sarita didn't think it was the same thing at all, but the last time she's tried to press the issue with Carlos, he'd resolved matters by pulling her lingerie out of the way and concluding the spanking on her bare bottom. She wasn't eager for a reprise, so she struggled in a vain attempt to keep Carlos's hand from coming down again and again on the seat of her thin cotton underpants. She wailed as one of his blows caught her high on her tailbone, and then squealed in agony as he missed her panties and swatted her hard on her freshly-shaved thigh.
"AAAHHH!" screamed Sarita. "No fair! You didn't hit Juan on the face! You can't hit me where I've just shaved!"
"I'm sorry," said Carlos. "I'll make sure I don't do it again. Juan, would you mind facing the other way?"
"NOOO!" wailed Sarita. "Carlos, please not that! I *swear" I'll never touch your shaving stuff again!"
Carlos paused, with his hand poised to pull down Sarita's underpants. Taking in the neighbor girl over his lap and his own son, grinning hugely despite the spanking he'd just received himself, he let go of Sarita's waistband and brought his hand down hard once more on her panties. "No, it's not my place," he said. As he gave her bottom a final volley of swats, he added, "At least not this time."
He released Sarita, who promptly stood up and began to massage her bottom even harder than Juan was doing. He gave his son one final glare, not entirely succeeding in concealing his sudden amusement. "I heard your final conversation, Juan. Thank you for trying to save my aftershave. When you're old enough, I'll get you your own razor. And as for you, Sarita... if you ever touch my razor again I'll show you what a razor strop feels like. WITH Juan facing the other way!"
Sarita didn't really think anyone used razor strops any longer, at least for safety razors like the one Carlos used. But, she reflected as she tried to rub the pain of the spanking away, she wasn't going to take any chances.
"I'm NOT running through this scene again!"
Juan had heard that type of tantrum several times before in his usual movie career, but never from the current speaker. Leland Dulac, however, seemed able to get away with it a lot more, maybe because he knew he was a bankable star.
At least Peter O'Shea, who'd directed most of Leland's box-office hits, looked at him indulgently. "Well, let's give the others another run-through then," he said. "Get 'em in!" he ordered an assistant.
"Home on the Range" was a Western adventure/comedy that starred Leland Dulac as a young boy growing up on his widowed mother's ranch. O'Shea was now shooting the climactic scene in which, while his mother was away in town, Luke Briggs (Leland's character) singlehandedly overcame the two outlaws who'd invaded the Lazy S Ranch, in the process bringing in enough reward money to pay his mother's mortgage and result in a happy ending for all. Sarita had remarked when they'd first seen the script that it read like most of Leland's other movies, but she couldn't conceal her eagerness to be in a movie with him.
Juan was very happy, too. He'd managed to sit near Angela Hazlewood at the studio cafeteria that afternoon, while an assistant director had overseen several scenes on the schoolhouse set. (Leland's had already been filmed, so on several occasions Angela had to respond to his dialogue spoken by a forty-year-old studio gopher filling in for him. To Juan's delight, it hadn't seemed to make any difference to her.)
O'Shea was now beckoning the outlaws, whom Juan recognized as a couple of actors named Jenkins and Martino he'd seen on TV, into place. "Action!" They pulled their bandannas over their faces and walked to the prop door.
Jenkins slammed the door open and charged in, his gun raised. "Listen, you!" he roared to nobody in particular. "Just don't mess with us and nobody will get hurt!"
Sarita entered from a side door, rubbing her eyes. "What?" she said, then let out a piercing shriek as she saw the invaders. She was wearing old-fashioned red pajamas with feet, and screaming at the top of her lungs. "What're you DOING here? WHAT?"
"Cut!" roared O'Shea. "Sarita, I know you're trying to show you're afraid, but not quite so loud. Remember, you're afraid but you're also angry. These people are invading your house, remember?"
Sarita nodded, and after a few more takes O'Shea called a break and consulted with his star. Juan walked over to Sarita. "You know, I got to talk to Angela at lunch today!" he said. "Maybe the aftershave did do the trick!"
"I'm thrilled. Even though we're together in this scene, Leland doesn't mingle much with us peons."
"I don't think it'd have worked for you anyway. He'll never notice your legs, especially with that outfit! What's it for, anyway?"
Sarita's face reddened. "It's supposed to indicate it's late in the evening. After Letty Briggs' bedtime, so Luke is the only one up." She got up and walked toward the water cooler.
"Ooh! It's even got a trap door in back! But I guess you need it when you have to go to the bathroom as often as you do!"
Sarita glared at him as she filled up a drinking cup. "That has nothing to do with it. It's just the style of pajamas -- or underwear, I'm not sure which -- kids wore in those days. At least I don't have to wear a hoop skirt like I did last time!"
She suddenly looked up as O'Shea called to her. "Gotta go now. It's one of my big scenes, so I've got to make the most of it."
* * *
Juan sat down on the grass to watch the filming. Martino was saying his line, "We're just gonna stay here a day or two. You don't bother us, and we won't bother you. Got it?"
"No, I don't! When Luke gets back from the stable..." said Sarita in a furious tone.
"CUT!" roared O'Shea. "Sarita, I want you angry! These are the men who robbed the bank with your mother's life savings, and you both recognize them! We've got to establish that for the ending!"
Sarita nodded. On the next take she cast a furious glance at Martino as she said *No, I *don't!" The next minute she jumped on his back and began to claw at his face.
"What the hell...?" asked Martino. O'Shea stopped the action again.
"I just thought if I was that angry, I'd want to fight him!" explained Sarita. "And maybe pull off his mask, too!"
O'Shea stroked his chin. "That's not a bad idea! Go for it! Action!"
The struggle was furious, but brief. After all, an eight-year-old girl (even when played by an energetic eleven-year-old) is hardly a match for two grown-up outlaws. "Lock her in her room!" Jenkins read at last, as Martino bore Sarita under his arm, struggling and kicking, off the set.
O'Shea looked delighted. "That's great! Take two!"
They were filming the scene for the fifth time as Leland Dulac returned, carrying a branding iron under his arm. "I just thought of something, Peter!" he told the director. "You know the scene where I use this on Jenkins?" (Juan was sure he saw Jenkins, even while trying to pull Sarita off Martino's back, wince at that.) "We really ought to use it sooner onscreen, to establish what it can do. Why not let me brand some of the cattle?"
The director shook his head. "Can't be done. A lot of people look for the disclaimer that no animals were injured in the making of the picture these days."
"Branding is injury?" snorted Leland. "I've read the script! I'm supposed to help with the branding!"
"We'll have to fake it and intersperse it with stock footage. The SPCA was clear on the matter."
Leland scowled. "It'd be a lot better the other way. What's this scene, anyway? They're just supposed to lock Letty in her room!"
"We worked out this bit of business," explained O'Shea. "Everyone else seems to like it!"
"Just remember who's the star of this picture," muttered Leland as he stalked to his personal chair to watch the filming.
On the ninth take, as he tried to free his partner from Sarita's limpetlike grip, Jenkins' grab snared the seat of her union suit. The next moment the buttons snapped off as Sarita's leg caught Jenkins in the chest. The growing crowd of extras roared as Mendoza wrestled with Sarita, her backflap dangling as her bare bottom gleamed in the set lights. Several of them clapped as Mendoza carried her away; only Leland Dulac gritted his teeth.
"Talk about a real trouper!" laughed Peter O'Shea. "She stayed in character all the way!
"Well, I couldn't forget who I was supposed to be, Mr. O'Shea!" said Sarita as she came through the door again, holding up her backflap with both hands to cover herself. "As you say, they're threatening Letty's home and family, and she's only an eight-year-old, anyway. Uh... you're not going to use this shot, are you?"
O'Shea laughed. "Not to worry. Standards and Practices would never let it through. Somebody find those buttons."
Leland Dulac walked up to him. "Any chance we could do my scene while you find a way to cover Letty's ass? I'm not used to waiting around like this!"
"Sure," said O'Shea. "WARDROBE!" As an assistant cameraman brought him one of Sarita's lost buttons at the same time Juan scurried up with the other, he waved Leland toward the door, where he was to walk in to find the house taken over by the outlaws. As a gangly young man came up, O'Shea passed him the buttons. "These need to go back on her longjohns, Ned," he said. "Take care of her!"
Ned walked away from the set, beckoning Sarita to follow. Juan tagged along as she asked, "Uh, aren't there any seamstresses here?"
Ned laughed. "Just me. For a picture like this, they only need one tailor for last-minute alterations and repairs. Now," he said as he sat down on a chair, "if you'll just lie across my lap, we'll get those fixed in no time!"
Sarita looked reluctant. "Don't worry, Sarita," piped up Juan. "You're not getting a licking this time!"
She whirled and glared at him. "Don't you have somewhere else to go, Juan?"
"No, you know my Dad's picking us up here!" he replied innocently.
Seeing there was no help for it, Sarita sighed and lay down across Ned's lap, letting go of her backflap. She stiffened as he pulled it back far enough to reach inside, holding the woolen garment high enough above Sarita's lower back to thrust a needle through. "Don't worry," he reassured her. "This doesn't mean anything to me. Why, last month I mended Penelope Rivers' bathing suit while she was wearing it!"
Juan's eyes opened wide. "Wow! How'd that happen?"
Ned held up the dislodged button and drew the needle through it. "They were shooting an episode of 'Beach Girls' with a set they'd cobbled together overnight, and Penelope got her suit snagged on a nail as she was diving in. The special guest star had to do another show that day, so Penelope had to lie across my lap, just like you, while I fixed her suit."
"Oooh!" breathed Juan. "Did she have a nice butt?"
"You know, I really didn't notice!" said Ned. "You just get used to jobs like this."
Ned finished the first button and got to work on the second one, as Carlos Gomez walked over. "Juan, Mr. O'Shea says you'll be working for another few hours, so you'll both be eating in the cafeteria. I came by to tell you I'll meet you at nine this evening in the front room." He suddenly noticed Sarita across Ned's lap with her flap unbuttoned, and reached the obvious conclusion. "But I thought they were supposed to call me if Sarita acted up!"
"She's not getting licked, Dad!" Juan hastily explained as Sarita's face once again reddened. "She's just having her pajamas fixed!"
Carlos looked vaguely disappointed. "Well, whatever. I'll pick you up at nine, Sarita." Sarita wished she were a million miles away.
As Carlos headed out, Ned cut the thread and tied it up. "All set! Try not to let that happen again!" He pulled up the backflap and, to Sarita's relief, buttoned it up.
Peter O'Shea rushed up, trailed by a fuming Leland Dulac. "Are those longjohns fixed? Maybe you should sew the flap shut so that won't happen again!"
"But how's Sarita going to go to the bathroom?" Juan put in. Sarita stuck out her tongue at him.
O'Shea sighed. "Well, I'll just tell Jenkins to watch where he grabs her next time." He glanced reassuringly at Leland, who seemed about to protest. "Just a few more shots with her, and she'll be through for the day. Remember, she's paid by the hour and you're not." Leland shot daggers at her as they walked back to the set.
A little over an hour later, Leland Dulac was washing off his makeup in his private dressing room. *Damn that scene-stealing little bitch!* he was thinking to himself. He'd wanted to work out in the gym this evening and, thanks to her, now he was barely through with his own scene for the day.
There was a knock on the door of his dressing room, and he swore as he walked over to open it. Letty, or whatever the hell her real name was, still wearing that stupid union suit! (He'd put his foot down about wearing an outfit like that himself; maybe he shouldn't have.) Hadn't he had enough of that brat for one day?
"Uh... Leland?" Seeing his scowl, she quickly added, "Uh, Mr. Dulac?" "Mr." seemed a bit silly for a fifteen-year-old boy, but for a hunk like Leland it seemed to fit. "I... I'm really sorry everything took so long."
He put his hands on his hips and glared down at her. "Oh, you are, are you? After you've upstaged me and stolen my best scene?" Damned if the little brat wasn't beginning to cry.
"I'd never do that, Mr. Dulac!" Sarita choked. "I've liked you ever since I first saw 'Let's Go Home!' I saw it fifteen times before it was even on video!"
Leland grabbed her arm and pulled her inside. "Oh, you did, eh? And I'll bet you can hardly wait until you're a big star like me? I heard you talking to your kid brother, and I know how your mind works!"
"But never with you!" wailed Sarita. "Please don't be mad at me! I never meant to..."
"Well, you DID!" screamed Leland. "I already HEARD the hands saying you might be the NEXT Leland Dulac! Well, I'm not exactly ready for the NEXT Leland Dulac!" He sat down in his chair and pulled Sarita over his lap. "Fortunately, I know how to deal with people. From star directors to brats like you!"
"NOOO!" screamed Sarita as Leland began to unbutton her backflap. "You can't do that to me!"
"Like HELL I can't!" yelled Leland, letting the flap drop to reveal her impudent bottom. "The way you displayed your ass to everyone on the set..."
"That was a mistake!" sobbed Sarita. "I nearly died when it happened!"
Leland gave her a swat on her exposed bottom that made her scream. "Ha! And I suppose it's coincidence that you're not even wearing panties!"
Sarita gasped. "They didn't even have elastic panties in the 19th century! Besides, I've found that if I wear them under anything skintight, I get panty lines!"
Leland snorted in rage as he spanked Sarita again and again, turning her bottom almost as read as her woolen longjohns. "Panty lines indeed! They're the least of your worries NOW, you nasty little SLUT!"
"No, Leland!" sobbed Sarita. "Please don't hurt me! I'd never have hurt you! Not for anything!
Leland paid no attention, but brought his hand down over and over until it was tired. Sarita wasn't even struggling, but simply whimpering pathetically as he spanked her. He finally stood up, letting Sarita slide off his lap onto the dressing-room floor, but she made no move to leave, or even to conceal her exposed hindquarters. "THAT should teach you, you shameless TRAMP!" he bellowed as he walked toward the door. "And if you ever THINK of crossing me again, I'll use one of the horsewhips on you!"
"Sari -- taa!!!" called Juan frantically. She'd told him she was going to go try to talk to Leland Dulac before dinner, but that had been over half an hour ago. And she hadn't turned up anywhere else. He knew more than one person, mostly kids but even a few adults, had gotten in trouble by getting too close to areas that were off-limits to everyone but stars. But he seemed to remember Sarita saying Leland's dressing room was in this direction...
Juan stopped. Was that a whimpering noise? He turned to follow the almost inaudible sound, and saw a large door with LELAND DULAC and a big star on it. Quietly, so as not to disturb Leland in case he was inside, he tiptoed in. At first glance, it appeared to be empty.
No! There in a corner, on top of an untidy pile of dirty clothes, was Sarita, whimpering and curled into a tight little ball. She was still wearing the union suit she'd had on before, except, he realized with sudden embarrassment, her flap was once again unbuttoned. "Hey, Sarita!" he said in a taunting voice. "Your buttons rip off again?" Then he ducked.
But Sarita made no move toward him, to get up, or even to cover up her exposed bottom. "No," she whimpered in a low voice.
Whatever it was, it was something she didn't want to talk about. So Juan switched to his original reason for seeking her out. "It's just that the cafeteria closes in twenty minutes! We'd better get over there if we're going to have dinner!"
"Go ahead. I'm not hungry."
Sarita wasn't hungry?! A girl who, every time they had her over for dinner, ate twice as much as anyone else at the table? "Sarita, did something happen to you?" A sudden thought came to him, and he whispered his next thought in horror. "Were you.. raped?
Sarita sniffed. "No. Just spanked."
"But... but I've seen you spanked! You've never let it bother you like this before..."
"Not by...Leland! I would've died for him, and he just treated me like I was trash!" Slowly, haltingly, she sobbed out the entire story, and Juan's own face got redder and redder. For the first time in his life, he felt older than Sarita, rather than a year younger as he actually was.
"Well, you're NOT trash, Sarita! We all think you're terrific. Even my dad, though he hates to admit it. If it weren't for you, neither of us would've got inside a studio door, your mom would still be working two jobs, and I wouldn't have much saved for college. So let's get out of here!"
Sarita only clasped her knees harder, and Juan blew up. "And for God's sake cover yourself up!" He slapped her hard on her protruding bottom.
She shot up like a spring and lunged at him. With a roar of fury, she shoved Juan against a wall with her left hand as she tried to button herself up with her right. "I've had ENOUGH of that for one day!" she screamed. "I'm going to knock your teeth out for that!"
Juan grinned. "Go ahead!" he said. "And then I'll help you knock out Leland's!"
Sarita let him go so suddenly that he slid down before he could catch himself. "Yes. I'll do that first, now that I think of it. The utter gall of the kid! I can't imagine why I ever liked him!"
"He is a great actor, Sarita!" Juan pointed out. "But I think you are, too!"
Sarita finished buttoning her backflap before she turned away from Juan. "Come on. I think I know where Leland's apt to be now. He always works out after dinner... I found that out the first day I came here."
"Dinner?" Juan said. "We've only got five minutes before the cafeteria closes! Can't we grab something to take out?"
"Yes, we can do that," said Sarita absently. "And after that, I think I'm getting an idea. Oh, and Juan..."
"Yes?"
"Thanks for snapping me out of it."
* * *
Leland Dulac turned off the treadmill and walked over to the weights. An actor had to keep in trim, but thanks to all the extra time Letty had cost him, he'd have barely an hour tonight. He really should have used a horsewhip on that little slut. After all, what could her kind do against a mega-star? Better people than her had tried to dig up dirt on him. He lay on his stomach and grunted as he lifted and dropped the heavy barbell.
Somebody else had walked into the gym. It was one of the kid extras, nibbling a sandwich and drinking a soda from a tall cafeteria paper cup. "Get out of here!" he said nastily. "This is my workout time, and I'm not to be disturbed."
But the kid didn't go away. He picked up a barbell with some difficulty. "Put that DOWN!" ordered Leland.
"Anything to oblige!" said Juan, for it was he. He dropped the barbell into the frame, right on top of the weight Leland was already lifting. "You ASSHOLE!" screamed Leland as his arms were forced to the floor.
But before Leland could struggle free, Juan dropped yet another barbell on top of the other two, and leaned on them. Leland pushed, but the three weights with the kid pushing down on him held him fast.
"When I get HOLD of you..." screamed Leland.
"That won't be for awhile!" came a voice from the door. It was Letty again! She strode in triumphantly, straddled Leland, and plunked the seat of her scratchy woolen longjohns squarely on his back, facing away from his head.
"Why, you little turd..." fumed the outraged teenager. "I didn't give you enough before, did I?"
"You're hardly in position to make that claim, Leland!" retorted Sarita. She tried but failed to keep a choke from her voice as she continued. "I used to like you, Leland. But I liked a screen persona and never knew you in real life. No, you've given me quite enough! And I'm here to give some of it back!"
Leland screamed obscenities as Sarita pulled his gym shorts down to his knees. "You know, I thought my outfit was all too convenient for spanking!" she remarked as Leland's jockstrap came into view. "But so is yours!" She slapped his bare bottom as hard as she could, and Leland yelped.
"How does it feel to be on the receiving end for a change, Leland?" said Sarita as she drummed on his buttocks like a Native American extra on a tom-tom. "You don't treat anyone the way you treated me, and you're still a spoiled brat!"
Leland sniggered. "Oooh, I'm in agony!" he said through his teeth. She was making an impression on him, but he wasn't about to admit it. He'd got a lot worse from his own dad, and could take anything a little girl like Letty could dish out. His voice turned vicious. "But just for that, I'll see to it that neither of you ever work in Hollywood again! And don't think I can't do it!"
Sarita ceased swatting and leaned back against the weights. "Well, as long as our career is over, we'll make sure you never forget us! Bring it in, Juan!"
Leland suddenly realized Juan was no longer holding the barbells down. Maybe he could get away... but Sarita sat down hard on him as he tried. Juan reentered, carrying a white-hot branding iron.
"Remember that, Leland?" said Sarita. "I should've realized how much you like to hurt animals, and people, when you were talking about using it. Well, now you'll get to see how it feels when you're on the receiving end!"
Leland struggled as hard as he could, and forced a guffaw into his voice. "Ha! We all know you wouldn't dare! Why don't you just go home and play with your dolls and dildoes, Letty!"
His tone decided them both. "My name's Sarita, Leland! And this 'Lazy S,' when turned upright, can stand for it! Go ahead, Juan!"
"Here goes!" gloated Juan, lifting the heated iron and plunging it down firmly. Leland screamed in agony as the iron made contact, and the smell of burning flesh filled the air.
"AIIIIEEEE!!!!!" screamed Leland at the top of his lungs. But, as Sarita and Juan knew, nobody was there. "Lemme GO!" He was sobbing now and trying desparately to get free. It took all the younger children's strength to hold him down, but with the aid of the weights, they succeeded.
"Why don't we brand his other cheek, too?" asked Juan. "Give him a matched set!"
"NOOO!" sobbed Leland, no longer trying to conceal his terror or the tears running down his face. "Please, NO more! I won't ever bother you again!"
"OR hurt any other young kid? OR tell anyone what's happened?" demanded Sarita.
"I swear by all that's holy! Just no MORE of the branding iron! PLEASE!" Juan looked at Sarita. She nodded. Without a word, he picked up the remnants of his dinner and walked out. Sarita followed, carrying the branding iron.
"Now let's put this back before anyone misses it!" said Sarita. "Then I'll get my own clothes back on, and we'll be right on time to meet your dad."
Juan took another bite out of his sandwich. "You think he'll keep his promise?"
Sarita shrugged. "We'll see. Any chance I could have a sip of your Coke?"
Sarita was back in the blue dress she'd worn that morning when, at the dot of nine, she and Juan came into the front room. Carlos Gomez was already there, chatting with Peter O'Shea and several other people, who O'Shea introduced as the parents of some of the other young actors. She couldn't resist a shudder as she shook hands with Sanford Dulac, Leland's father.
"Nine o'clock tomorrow, right?" asked Carlos as he prepared to head out. "I'll have them here then."
"Those kids aren't going ANYWHERE!" came a voice from the hall. Leland Dulac rushed into the room and addressed the adults present in an outraged tone, but one laced with triumph. "Except to court! Their parents will be soaked DRY by the time my lawyers get through with them, because we're going to ask for pain and suffering over and above the cost of my skin grafts!" He paused for emphasis. "Aside from loss of income now that I won't be able to try out for Joel Shumacher's next movie!"
Sanford Dulac looked peeved. "What are you talking about, Leland?"
"What THOSE two did to me!" replied Leland. "Just LOOK!" To everyone's shock, he faced away and dropped his pants and underpants. Carlos gasped and looked meaningly at Juan and Sarita.
"I don't see anything," said Peter O'Shea. "What are you talking about?"
"THIS!" screamed Leland. "They tied me up and used the BRANDING iron on me! It still hurts!" He pointed out the spot.
They all looked, and several shook their heads. "There's nothing there!" said Madeleine Hazlewood, Angela's mother.
"All we did was get dinner and look around the studio!" said Sarita innocently. "Believe me, we'd never think of doing anything like that!"
"Are you CRAZY!" roared Leland. "They DID it! Are you all BLIND?"
"No, just fed up with your posturing!" said his father. He suddenly swatted Leland hard on his bare bottom. "Pull your pants up and stop that nonsense!"
The others looked at each other in embarrassment. Leland muttered, "It's NOT there? But I felt it..."
"Don't worry, Carlos!" said Peter O'Shea reassuringly. "This isn't the first time he's made up some wild story to explain why he hasn't learned his lines. "See you tomorrow, right?"
Sarita paused in her excited explanation of the events of the day. Carlos, who had driven about half the distance back to the hotel, broke in. "Very good, Sarita. Now," and his voice suddenly deepened, "I want to know exactly what Leland Dulac was talking about."
"We didn't brand him, Dad!" protested Sarita. "I swear we didn't do anything like that! You saw he didn't have a mark on him!"
"That's true," admitted Carlos. "But I know you two. There's got to be some truth to his story, and I want to know what it is!"
There was no way around it, so Sarita and Juan told him the entire story. His face turned red as Sarita described Leland's spanking and his words that had hurt her far more, and then they described their encounter in the gym.
"So you really did use a hot branding iron?" Carlos said in a tone that sounded way too quiet.
"Yes, but only on a cow!" said Sarita. "Or maybe a bull."
Carlos goggled at her and began to slow the car down.
"Whatever Juan's roast-beef sandwich was made of!" Sarita continued. "Remember, Leland was facing in the other direction, and couldn't see his butt with the weights and me in the way. When I gave the word, Juan opened his sandwich and plopped the hot iron onto the slice of beef. At the same time, I slapped some ice cubes I'd taken out of Juan's drink onto Leland's butt. After I'd... uh, worked it over, it felt almost the same, and Leland was too frightened to tell the difference."
"I see." said Carlos. "And you didn't expect him to make a fool of himself before everyone?"
"Well, he did promise not to tell! If he had, nothing would've happened. But I'll admit I did know he couldn't really look at his butt for awhile. I've been in his dressing room, and it's too small and his mirror's too high. I... uh, learned that in the bathroom this morning."
"Why are you stopping, Dad?" asked Juan with a catch in his voice.
Carlos glared at him. "Because you two picked a fight with someone you had no business fighting with! Considering the circumstances, I might have forgiven that if you hadn't messed around with a hot branding iron! If you'd made a slip anywhere, one of you could have been permanently scarred!"
Sarita gulped. "I guess... you're going to punish us again? But why out here in the middle of nowhere?"
"Where else? It's more private than the hotel room, and I don't think you'd like it if I stopped at a rest area and took you into the men's room. Especially Sarita." She shuddered and nodded.
"You... you won't spank us too hard, Dad?" Juan pleaded. "It'll be my second one today. And Sarita's third."
"You'll see. But suffice it to say that, if you want any privacy, I'd best take you one at a time." Carlos put on the emergency brake and turned off the car. "And this time I'll attend to Sarita first."
Juan watched as Sarita reluctantly followed Carlos off the road and behind a clump of trees. Her voice rang out, "Hey, watch the lingerie! My mom paid a lot of money for... OWW!" Sarita howled as the sound of a hand hitting bare flesh resounded through the night. "Carlos, take it easy! You know, a lot of -- AHH!-- people might have some doubts about -- OOH! not so hard!--this! A grown man touching a -- YEOW!--helpless adolescent girl on her -- YIII!-- private parts..."
Carlos grunted and the slaps ceased. "We couldn't have that. Hold on and I'll find a stick to use."
Sarita's voice took on a panicked note. "No, I didn't mean THAT! I said SOME people... you're almost family, right?" The slaps resumed. "No, really, just use your hand and I'll--ooh!--try not to yell. But don't forget I've got another day's shooting in that union suit, and if it--ouch! comes open again I'd die if there were any bruises..."
Juan lay back in the car, contented even though he knew that all too soon he'd be taking Sarita's place over his father's knee. Sarita was herself again.
* * *
Dedicated to MissLilyO, who claimed Sarita as a kindred soul...