From: arcane@nwiowa.com
Newsgroups: alt.sex.spanking
Subject: Lights, Camera, Paddle! (M/F spank, cane)
Date: 30 Apr 1995 06:42:42 GMT

                     Lights, Camera, Paddle!

   Cheryl sat on the couch and faced the camera.  She allowed a
makeup "artist" to touch up her cheeks with some rouge paste. 
She watched blithely as the director moved about the set to make
sure that everything was in place.
   "Cheryl, baby.  You ready?"
   Cheryl popped out her gum and stuck it on the makeup man's
forehead.  "Yeah, sure, Billy.  Let's get this over with, ok?"
   The director coughed and looked around.  A few of the
cameramen were giggling.  Albert "Billy" Banes watched as the
makeup man walked off the set, cursing as he pulled sticky gum
residue off of his forehead.
   Billy leaned over and whispered to Cheryl.  "Look, Cheryl.  I
told you to call me 'Albert' while we were on the set.  Calling
me 'Billy' makes it seem as if we might be sleeping together or
something."
   Cheryl swung her head around.  She whispered back to him. 
"Well, ain't we?"  Cheryl turned toward the mostly bored crew. 
"Hey, everybody!  I fucked and sucked Billy here just so I could
be in this movie."
   The crew doubled up with laughter as Billy scrambled off the
set and ran for his office.  His face was beet red and he wanted
to die.  This was the third time some "actress" of his had
spouted off like that in front of the crew.  It was bad enough
that he was behind schedule and his distributor was screaming for
the picture.
   "Big budget," they had told him.  Yeah, right!  The only thing
big about the budget was the height in which the checks bounced. 
Billy sat down at his desk and put his head in his hands.  A
knock came at the door.
   "Come in," Billy yelled.
   Cheryl walked in, still wearing her satin robe.  "I'm sorry,
Billy.  Can we please finish this?  I'm cold and I wanna fuck
this guy so I can go home."
   Billy looked in disgust at his newest starlet.  They were all
the same.  Young girl (not under eighteen, according to birth
certificates and photo ID's) just arrived in LA.  They all were
looking to break into show business.  Billy would constantly
prowl the night clubs and seedier saloons looking for ripe young
victims to drag into his world.  Cheryl Cheeks (formerly Cindy
Lou Simpson of Des Moines, Iowa) was the latest in a long string
of "actresses" looking for a way into the business.
   "Cheryl, honey, I told you that this isn't a porno flick.  You
don't fuck anybody.  You get your pretty ass paddled on screen to
cater to the perverts who pay my check and yours."
   Cheryl opened her robe and revealed a sleek teddy.  "Is that
why I'm not naked?"
   Billy sighed.  "Yes, baby."
   Cheryl looked outraged.  "I thought you said that I was gonna
be _padded_, not paddled."
   "Why did you think I helped you pick out the name 'Cheryl
Cheeks'?"
   "I thought it was because I was gonna be getting fucked up the
ass or something."
   Billy's ears perked up.  "You like doing that?"
   "No, but I'll do anything for money."
   Billy sighed again.  "Then what's the problem with taking a
few whacks on your pert little fanny?"
   "It'll hurt!"
   Billy snickered to himself.  "Don't you think taking a cock up
the ass would hurt?"
   "I dunno."
   Billy sat back in his chair.  "Well, I'll show you the
difference tonight.  But to see the difference, you'll have to
get paddled right now.  You understand?"
   Cheryl's eyes lit up.  "Yeah, it's like science.  You have to
experience both in order to make a judgement about it, right?"
   Billy actually clapped his hands.  "Yes, perfect.  Now go out
there and get ready.  Oh, and send in Martin Kanes.  I need to
talk to him."
   "Sure, Billy...Albert!"
   Billy quickly pulled out a bottle of Jack that was nestled in
his bottom desk drawer.  He took a quick pull and replaced the
bottle.
   Martin Kanes walked through the door.  He was a powerfully
built man who couldn't act worth a damn.  But he could swing a
mean paddle and cane.  "You wanted to see me, Billy?"
   Billy gave up.  Nobody was going to take him seriously and
call him Albert.  "Yes.  Sit down, Martin."
   Martin strode in and sat in the chair.  "Listen to this.  Tell
me what you think."  Martin took a deep breath.  "To be, or not
to be, that is the question.  Whether 'tis..."
   "Fine, great.  Sounding better and better."  Billy groaned
inwardly.  Idiot wanted to be a Shakespearian actor.  Kanes still
thought the Immortal Bard was a Dungeons and Dragons character
that found the fountain of youth.
   Billy leaned forward.  "The script calls for you to paddle
Cheryl with a bath brush and then with your belt, right?"
   Kanes smiled as he looked forward to reddening the sexy girl's
cheeks.  "Yep."
   "I'm making a script change."
   "Do I get more lines?  I can do it like Shakespeare.  'Bend at
thy waist and prepare thouself to receive mine paddle.'"
   "No!" Billy yelped out.  Why oh why did he agree to direct
these pictures.  He could've been a doctor by now.  "No, just a
little change in the implements.  I still want you to use the
bath brush.  Only the script calls for ten really hard strikes
with it.  I want to change that to Thirty.  Thirty really really
really really hard hits.  Got it?"
   Kanes grinned.  "Sure.  No problem.  Want me to lecture her
while I'm hitting her?"
   "Yes...NO!"  Lord knows what this idiot would say if given the
chance to ad-lib.  "Oh, and instead of the belt, use a cane.  Oh,
about ten or twelve really powerful strokes."
   Kanes rubbed his hands together.  "Alright!  She won't mind?"
   Billy smiled.  "Nope.  She wants it really painful.  We've
even given her extra coaching so she'll really look like she
hates it.  Remember, the title of the film is 'Please Don't Beat
Me', so she needs to look like she doesn't like it.  Don't worry,
though, she loves every smack of it."

   Billy sat in his director's chair.  "Ok, QUIET ON THE SET! 
Places people!  Damnit, Harry, get that fucking book off the
set."
   Kanes stepped forward.  "That's my book, Billy.  It reminds me
of Shakespeare so I do a better job in delivering my lines."
   A collective groan went up around the set.  "Ok," Billy said. 
"Leave the book, Harry.  Just, uh, move it sort of off to the
side.  Oh, Cheryl, honey, there's been a slight script change. 
Martin's going to tie your hands and feet to the table instead of
you remaining free."
   Cheryl looked out at Billy.  "Tie me up?"
   Billy nodded.  "Yes.  It's got more of a dramatic feel to it. 
Might bring us an award."
   Cheryl perked up.  "Ok."
   Billy smiled.  "Places!"  He waited until everyone was into
position.  "Roll camera!  Action!"
   Kanes moved around the side of the couch.  "Damnit, Linda! 
This is the third time this week that you've talked back to
me...Uh, Billy?"
   Billy put his head in his hands.  "CUT!  What, Martin?"
   "Well, I was just sort of thinking about that.  I mean, why
would my character be so enraged over a little thing like his
maid talking back to him?  What's my motivation here?"
   Billy sighed.  Why did he hire Martin.  He could've gotten Dan
Rivera or somebody.  Why Martin?  "Well, Martin, I think that the
writer wanted the audience to think that your character was a
very strict man.  Talking back is as bad a crime to him as
murder.  I think that's what motivates the character in this
scene."
   Cheryl piped in.  "If I'm the maid, why am I wearing this
teddy instead of a maid's outfit?"
   "If you remember, baby, we did a scene earlier today where we
established that you couldn't sleep so you got up and came out to
the living room.  Remember that?"
   "Oh.  I thought that was for another movie."
   "No, dear.  It's for this one."
   "Ok."
   "Thanks, Billy," Martin said.  "That helps me a lot."
   "No problem, Martin.  Everybody ready?  Good.  Places.  Roll
camera.  ACTION!"
   Again Martin moved around the couch.  "Damnit, Linda!  This is
the second time this week you've talked back to me.  I won't
stand for it."
   Somewhere Martin had gone from the third time to the second. 
Billy knew that he should stop, but it would cost too much money
to do another retake.
   Cheryl gave him an impish look.  "Well, Mr. Hickey, what do
you intend to do about it."
   Billy motioned for Henry to retrieve the bottle of Jack.  The
character's name was Hickory, not Hickey.
   Martin struck a pose.  "I intend to teachest thou a lesson
thou wouldst not soon forget!"
   Billy felt the tears beginning to sting his eyes.  Dan Rivera
and Kiri Kelly.  Dan Rivera and Eve Howard.  Dan Rivera and
anybody.  Why didn't he shell out the extra money to get Dan
Rivera?
   Billy watched as Martin manhandled Cheryl into position over
the table.  He watched in glee as Cheryl's hands and feet were
bound.  Martin picked up the bath brush that was sitting on the
telephone stand.
   "Now I'm going to teach you a good lesson."
   Billy watched as Martin drew his arm back to its limit.  He
watched that powerful uncoil and accelerate that brush.  Everyone
heard the deafening CRACK as the wooden bath brush struck
Cheryl's pantied bottom.
   "OUCH!!!!!!  You fucker!  That hurt!"
   "Ha," Martin said and held the brush aloft.  "For using
scandalous language, I shall now bare thy bodkin!"
   Billy heard the groans around him.  He should stop the picture
because those sounds were probably picked up by the mikes.  Oh
well, no matter.  The home audience would probably be groaning at
that point anyway.
   Martin watched in delight as Cheryl's panties were yanked
down.  There on her otherwise white cheeks was a nasty red
splotch.  Martin drew back for another hit.
   CRACK!!!!!!!
   "Mother Fucker!  That fucking hurts!  Stop it!  Let me go!"
   CRACK!!!!!!!
   "OH FUCK!!!!!  I hate this!  Please let me go!"
   CRACK!!!!!!!
   "Take the fucking money back!  I don't wanna be an actress!"
   CRACK!!!!!!!
   Cheryl's voice broke into harsh sobs.  Billy felt his pants
becoming very tight.
   CRACK!!!!!!!  CRACK!!!!!!!  CRACK!!!!!!!  CRACK!!!!!!! 
CRACK!!!!!!!  CRACK!!!!!!!  CRACK!!!!!!!  CRACK!!!!!!! 
CRACK!!!!!!!  CRACK!!!!!!!  CRACK!!!!!!!  CRACK!!!!!!! 
CRACK!!!!!!!  CRACK!!!!!!!  CRACK!!!!!!!  CRACK!!!!!!! 
CRACK!!!!!!!  CRACK!!!!!!!  CRACK!!!!!!!  CRACK!!!!!!! 
CRACK!!!!!!!  CRACK!!!!!!!  CRACK!!!!!!!  CRACK!!!!!!! 
CRACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
  Cheryl's ass was a mass of red blotches with many many dark
rings adorning it.  Billy smiled broadly.
   Martin picked up the cane.  "And now to further chastise your
errant bottom...my cane."
   Cheryl let out a fresh scream of protests.
   "Quiet!  This will teach you when to sleep.  To sleep,
perchance to dream; Aye, there's the rub!"
   Shish!  CRACK!!!
   Cheryl howled and cursed.  Billy rubbed at his swollen cock. 
This was better then he imagined.  She was really getting the
works.  Of course, he would have to sweeten the pot so she didn't
press charges, but it was worth it.  He motioned for the
cameraman to keep rolling.