« Spanking Stories
« Charlotte, Amelia, Imogen and Takisha
22. You Raise Me UpA talented actress is caned for rudeness unaware her sore bottom will secure her future |
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Earning a spanking, Rose gets the cane from Takisha, bending over the back of a chair. Kat and Mrs Williams see her punishment |
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«Beginning | Part 23» |
Rose mooched back along the lake. Up since 5am, she'd crossed the bridge over the stream which fed the lake, and walked as far as the small island near the far shore. An hour from the city, their nearest neighbors were more than a mile to either side. While walking, she'd called her mom. After months of intense focus, her family were still right behind her, but she wasn't used to being miles from them. Often too tired to call them at the end of a day, she'd got up early, keen to connect.
She'd made her video for Girl Act on a whim because another girl's entry on YouTube had underwhelmed her. Never had she expected to make the final, let alone win. She'd been with her new boyfriend for three weeks when she'd learned she was in the final. Standing with her fellow winners in her ball gown, she'd known she'd lost him. He'd made it easy for her, ending it with a brief message two weeks into her new career. This morning, her mom had let slip he had a new girlfriend. It shouldn't be that easy for him to move on.
She went up the lawn to the main house and into the kitchen. Mrs. Williams always offered a warm welcome before her busy day got underway. Leaning against the aluminum work bench where Mrs. Williams was chopping carrots, she nipped a fresh carrot from the chopping board.
"Leave that," Mrs. Williams snapped, slapping her escaping hand.
The sharp rebuke stung tears in her eyes. Mrs. Williams was the kindest voice in a world of strict standards. The hard words were too much.
"It's only a fucking carrot," she shouted, taking her unwanted prize and storming out of the kitchen, slamming the door hard as she headed down the corridor to the dining room.
Coming the other way, the door slam and angry girl storming down the corridor in slate blue leggings and a white sweatshirt shocked Takisha. Letting her go, she proceeded into the kitchen. Intending to check with Mrs. Williams about her budget, she instead asked what had happened.
Mrs. Williams said little.
"Come on," Takisha said. "Don't cover for Rose. It will only make it worse for her in the long run. Tell me what was said."
Mrs. Williams recounted the conversation, adding, "I might have been insensitive towards her." All the girls spent time in the kitchen for a kind voice and a moment of peace.
"Doesn't matter," Takisha said, her tone ruthless. "She will not speak to you that way, no matter the circumstances."
On the verge of tears, Rose went to the swing seat on the rear veranda. Stretching the width of the house, it looked down over the lawn to the lakeside. Off to the side, down near the lake, was the second house where they lived. She curled up in the corner of the white wooden seat, letting its gentle movement calm her. The sun wasn't yet on the veranda. Shaded by tall trees, it was her go-to spot when she didn't know where else to be.
Takisha sat on the other end of the seat and smoothed out a wrinkle in her black pantsuit. "Tough day already?" she asked.
Her arms around her knees, Rose looked up. "I only took a carrot."
"Nobody cares about the carrot. What caused you to swear at Mrs. Williams?"
"She wasn't nice to me!" Rose spurted out.
"And is it her job to be nice to you?"
"She always is."
"Did you consider she might also have been having a bad day?"
Rose didn't answer. It hadn't crossed her mind. Nothing but her own loneliness had occupied her since she'd woken up this morning.
Takisha said, "It would be wise to answer my question."
"It was only a carrot."
"Rose," Takisha said. "Go to the dining room and wait for me." She got up and went upstairs to the office. It might take a moment, but she hadn't left the gentle girl any room for choice. She took a regular cane from the narrow closet and went back downstairs to the dining room.
Rose was leaning against a dining chair when she arrived.
"Pull that out into the room," she ordered, as she crossed to the kitchen corridor, opened the door at the far end and kicked the wedge in place to keep it open. She wanted Mrs. Williams to hear Rose's caning, and she wanted Rose to know it too.
Returning to the chair, she said, "You're a dramatic girl, that's why you're such a talented actress. But Mrs. Williams wasn't in your scene, and what you said to her is never in the script."
Tapping the top of the wooden chair back with the cane, she said, "Leggings down, and bend over."
Rose stiffened. She'd known she'd get a spanking when Takisha had ordered her here. The second the words had left her mouth, she'd been aware of the likely outcome. But she couldn't have stopped them. Sliding her hands into the waistband of her slate blue leggings, she eased them down over her hips, revealing white string bikini panties with bright-red elastic.
She glanced at Takisha, but no reprieve was forthcoming. With a sigh, she bent over the tall back of the wooden dining chair and placed her hands on the seat, her skimpy panties exposed to the room. The cane rested against her cotton. Mrs. Williams had been mean and now had got her caned.
Feeling resistance pouring off Rose, Takisha whipped the rattan down hard across her backside. Rose cried out as the sharp impact set her skin on fire.
"You never speak that way to anyone, let alone Mrs. Williams."
The rattan returned, lashing three swift strokes into her girlish flesh. The pain soared in a concerto of escalating agony. She sobbed. All she'd wanted was a moment of kindness. What she'd given was a moment of rudeness. Her words distressed her as the cane bit deep into her disobedient cheeks and remorse stung her heart.
"Rose, I will not accept silence. I expect to hear an apology."
The sting in her bottom forced her sad mind to comply. "I'm sorry," she said.
"What for?" Takisha asked, whipping the cane in hard to enforce her demand.
Rose cried out as searing heat pulsed along the fresh line, branded into her bottom.
"I'm waiting," Takisha said.
Rose turned her head to the side. "I'm sorry for how I spoke to Mrs. Williams. It was inappropriate on every level."
"That's better," Takisha said, her voice taking on the kind tone she'd wanted to give the girl ever since she'd seen her upset in the corridor.
"I'm also sorry to you," Rose said. "You shouldn't have had to start the day by caning me. I'm ashamed of myself and will apologize to Mrs. Williams when you've finished with me."
"Good girl," Takisha said. "Last stoke. Would you prefer it here?" She tapped the cane against the center of Rose's panties, "or here?" She tapped the cane right against the sensitive crease where her bottom met her legs.
"The worse one," Rose cried out.
The cane scorched her bare skin. Heat seethed from the line of fire as she panted hard to bear it.
"Stand up, Rose."
Rose stood, grateful to get off the chair, and faced her tormentor. "I'm sorry you had to do that. I deserved it. Thank you."
With almost two millions views, Kat's version of the most famous French song of all time accumulated more every second. Kat bowed to Takisha's genius. They'd credited the Girl Act Orchestra in the notes and the designer of the royal blue knee-length chiffon dress. It had got almost as many comments as the song itself.
Takisha had overseen her replies, helping her to reference other videos where it made sense. Her natural manners took care of the rest. Charlotte had invited everyone to watch the live recording and had summoned them again to watch her reply to her fresh fans, the laptop mirrored on the enormous dining room TV.
In the middle of the morning, Charlotte leaned back in her leather recliner and looked at her co-founders. It was time to act. The publicity surrounding Girl Act had brought many of her old contacts out of the woodwork. She'd welcomed it, now she had something to be proud of. The show runner for The Taylors was no longer working in the business, but knew everyone.
"I've invited her to a meeting to discuss our pool of talent and potential opportunities," Charlotte revealed.
"What's she like?"
"Tough as nails."
"What do you expect?"
"Some contacts who might be interested in our girls. If nothing else, it will give us a view of them, which is not our own. We're biased."
"Sounds smart," Takisha said.
"I'm not telling the girls, let her catch them as they are."
The car load of people caught Charlotte off guard. She shouldn't have expected Denise to play fair. She'd sprung unexpected changes on them all the time when she'd been in charge of the cast of The Taylors.
Without the slightest outward sign of surprise, she greeted the fresh arrivals at Girl Act and ushered them into the dining room for coffee. Mrs. Williams brought oceans of coffee and biscuits, unfazed by the extra guests.
After introductions, Denise said, "Trixi here is casting for a new show for TV about a female singer in the sixties challenging the male climate. It's a comedy drama. Becky, is Trixi's scriptwriter. Don," she said, pointing to the only guy in the room, "is always on the hunt for music stars. Stars first, music second."
Kat walked through the dining room on her way back from the kitchen. "Good morning," she said, seeing raised faces as she went by.
"Kat," Charlotte called, "what are working on at the moment?" She knew full well what Kat was working on, and she knew how good it sounded. But that wasn't the point. This was her own performance, a sales performance.
"You Raise Me Up," Kat said.
"I'll be through in a moment," Charlotte said. "I'd like to hear how you're doing."
When Kat had left, Charlotte said, "Let's watch. I've hours of recordings we can skip through upstairs, but there's nothing like throwing them in at the deep end."
As they gathered at the back of the performance room, the string section rose around them from the pre-recording. Denise looked in admiration at the auto zooming cameras and professional stage. As Kat's powerful voice raised them up, Trixi's attention snapped to the fore. Becky's too. Kat carried them on a cloud through life and her restless heart. Rose stepped onto the stage, her bottom still flaming from Takisha's morning caning, and sang alto beside Kat. As they lifted the chorus through the octave change, hitting their notes right ahead of the unseen orchestra, they raised every heart in the room and every heart across the world in their minds. Their voices blended into the ultimate words and they delivered passionate, perfect diction with awe-inspiring smiles, as they walked on stormy seas, ending with their hands still by their sides and their heads bowed.
Dead-still, they let their music speak for them
In the silence, Becky leaned over to Charlotte, "Can either of them act?"
"Oh, yes."
Becky thrust two scripts into her hand, "Have them do a read through of this."
Charlotte took the scripts and walked forward to the stage. "Lovely performance, girls. Could you do me a favor and give this script a read through for my guests?" She turned to Becky. "Who is who?"
"Kat, as the elder sister. The other girl as the younger one."
Charlotte handed over the two scripts.
Coming off the cluttered stage, Rose and Kat looked at each other. They'd acted together many times. Kat knew Rose was the better actress and was glad to be beside her right now.
They gave it a brief read. It was an argument between sisters. Rose grinned. "Looks normal."
It lightened the atmosphere and set them both on the right path. Rose began. Waving the script at Kat, she yelled, "You bitch!"
"Oh, fuck off," Kat said, standing her ground.
The argument escalated along predictable lines as the language deteriorated, punching deep anger and honest animosity into the large room. The hostility was palpable. Fixated on the violent exchange between two sisters, nobody noticed the cameras were still running. As the sisters reached the peak of passion, Rose didn't hesitate. The script demanded action, and she gave it everything. Her arm swept up and slapped Kat full across the cheek. A violent retort echoed around the room, and bright red burst across Kat's soft cheek.
Rose went to Kat, "I'm so sorry, sis. Oh god. I'm so, so, sorry."
Devastated, Kat turned and walked away.
Holding still, as their coach had taught them, neither moved an inch as the scene took its toll on the audience. Coming forward to collect the scripts, Trixi thanked both girls. "That was a pleasure. Thank you so much. You're both talented actresses."
"Thank you," Rose said for them both.
"I'm sorry," Trixi said, "I don't know your name."
"Rose," she said, offering her hand.
Trixi shook it. "That was a hell of a slap, Rose. Well done."
Rubbing her cheek, Kat said, "You didn't hold back. I'll be sore for days."
"Nothing we aren't used to," Rose said, grinning.
Charlotte ushered her guests upstairs. They looked over videos of Helen and Tina. When they'd finished, Denise said, "It's a small stable of talent, but a credit to you. They all ooze stardom."
"Thank you," Charlotte said. She handed over a USB key to Trixi. "We film everything. This is a copy of today's impromptu performance, in case you want to show it to anyone."
"Thank you," Trixi said. "It was most interesting."
It was a week later when Charlotte rose at dinner. She'd ordered all her co-founders to be present for dinner in the Girl Act dining room. In her heart, she'd died a thousand times for this moment, but now it was before her, all she felt was wonder. Sheer wonder at herself.
"None of you will ever imagine the pride I feel tonight." She looked around at her girls. Imogen and Takisha knew nothing, neither did the stars of the night.
"When I brought guests around a week ago, none of you girls asked me who they were. You didn't disgrace your manners. As is correct etiquette, you presumed to know them and represented Girl Act with flawless precision. Rose, your acting was wonderful. I can only hope you're never angry enough to slap me that hard. Kat, I love your voice, but you'll need your acting skills as well to take the title role of a new TV series."
There was silence as they attempted to process what she'd said.
"Kat, the production company those people represent, has cast you as the star of a new, as yet unnamed, TV series. You'll be an aspiring girl singer in the sixties."
The table erupted in applause and shouts of utter delight. Mrs. Williams, warned by Charlotte, popped champagne and Imogen got up to help her pour it for everyone.
"That's not all," Charlotte shouted over the racket.
As the noise fell, she said, "Rose was only helping Kat, singing alongside her. It's a skill she won't need. But she will slap Kat again. Make it harder next time, girl. You're playing Kat's sister in the show."
"Oh. My. God." Rose fell onto the table, shedding tears. "I was so sore that day."
"Nothing stops you," Takisha said. "You're a professional."
"Am I?" Rose asked, lifting her head to face her shocking new reality.
"Yes," Charlotte said. "You both are."