I Married a Master
I Married a Master(68)
Author: Melanie Marchande
Patience, patience.
"Well, you’ll be playing the role of a 1950’s housewife," I told her. I let my eyes roam her body, lingering on the tanned expanse of her bare legs. "You’re not exactly dressed for the part, but…"
She blushed deeply. "I’m sorry. They didn’t…" Swallowing hard, she found her voice again. "It’s hot out. I just wanted to be comfortable."
"There’s nothing wrong with that," I reassured her, trying to make my voice soothing, but not too soothing. After all, this whole thing was predicated on me playing the part of a sleazy casting agent who didn’t mind taking advantage of a vulnerable actress.
Or maybe I was going about this the wrong way. Maybe he wasn’t normally like this. Maybe there was just something about her…
I shifted in my seat, as if I was trying to go back to acting like a professional. "My apologies, Ms. Hadley. I only meant that I’ll understand if it takes you a little extra time to get into the right mindset."
She cleared her throat. "So…what exactly is going on in this scene? What am I ad libbing to?"
"Your husband’s just come home." I glanced back down at the phantom notes in my lap, wondering if she noticed the straining erection running up the length of my zipper. She was doing a good job of pretending not to look, anyway. "Earlier, you discovered that he’s been lying to you about some bad investments that he made. You’re angry, but you know he was just trying to shield you from worrying. When he walked in the door, you didn’t have his martini ready, like you always do. He was upset, and you lashed out, because of course you didn’t make it because you know that he lied…but you don’t want to admit it." This was way too much backstory. I had to get to the point. There was a damn good reason I wasn’t a real screenwriter.
"So," I said, "deeply upset by your disrespect, he’s turned you over his knee."
Time froze.
Her reaction was perfect. Eyes widened, jaw dropped slightly, breathing quickening. She crossed and re-crossed her legs, shimmying a little on the bed like she couldn’t get comfortable. I knew the feeling.
"Um…"
"Is something wrong, Ms. Hadley?" I asked – a little sternly.
"Oh, no, it’s just…it’s not what I expected." She let out a nervous laugh. "That’s fine."
My eyes narrowed. "It doesn’t seem fine, Ms. Hadley. Are you offended by the content of the scene? If so, we can end this right now."
"No!" she exclaimed, quickly. Then, softer: "No. I’ll do it. So you just…you want me to react as if I’m being spanked?"
I nodded. "Your husband’s name is Howard. Work from a basis of ‘no, Howard, please! Stop! You’re hurting me!’ Et cetera, et cetera. But bear in mind, the most painful part is that you’ve disappointed him. It’s really not about the spanking at all."
"Oh…right. Okay." She took a deep breath, screwing her face into a slightly pained expression. "Howard, no! Please – stop. Don’t."
I hid a grin behind my hand. She was doing a spectacular job of being awful.
Before she looked up, I rearranged my face into a look of bored disappointment. "Hmm. Let’s try that again, shall we?"
"Sorry," she muttered, squirming again. God damn it, if she didn’t stop that…
"Sit still," I commanded, before I could think better of it.
She gasped, looking up at me. "I’m…excuse me?"
"Sorry. I just mean, please try not to squirm. It’s very distracting." I tried to look irritated. "Let’s just get on with this, okay? Try to really put yourself in the headspace."
"I’ll try," she said, biting her lip. I throbbed.
You could cut the tension in the room with a knife. In spite of my order, she was still rubbing her thighs together a little, and I knew exactly why. The seam of those jean shorts was pressing right where she needed it. That wasn’t quite fair.
"Again, Ms. Hadley," I said. "You can…assume the position, if that makes it easier."
Her eyes went wide as saucers, face turning bright red. "Position?"
"You know." I made a meaningless gesture. "Like you’re really being spanked. Whatever that means to you."
"Uh…is that really necessary?"
"No," I said. "But if this next read doesn’t blow me away…"
"Okay," she said, quickly. She stood up, situating herself so that her hands were flat on the mattress, and her ass was in the air. But not facing me, of course – she was sidelong, and while I appreciated the view, I was feeling a little shortchanged.
"Go."
"Oh, Howard…please, no," she moaned. "You’re…you’re…"
I growled, stopping her. "You sound like you’re enjoying it. What the hell are you doing? Why are you wasting my time like this?"
She jumped upright, unshed tears shimmering in her eyes. "I’m sorry, I don’t know how to do this! What kind of audition doesn’t even have a script? I can’t…"
"It doesn’t sound like you want this part," I said.
"I do." Her tone was desperate. "I just, I don’t think I can do this. I can’t just pretend like someone is spanking me."
Taking a deep breath, I surveyed her. A perfect performance. Body quivering, eyes watering, and ready to do anything I asked.
Ready for me.
"Here’s the thing, Ms. Hadley," I said. "Jenna. I like you. I think you’re right for this part. You have a great look, a vintage look. People are going to eat that up. But I can’t give you the part if you don’t convince me you can do this scene. It’s pivotal to the role. If you think the problem is that you can’t just imagine being spanked…well, we can fix that." I gestured towards my lap. "I’m willing to go out of my way for you, Jenna. Don’t make me regret this."
"I…" She took one step towards me, staring, her hands balled into fists. "I don’t think…"
"Not many people would do this for you," I said, smoothly. "Probably no one else in this town, in fact. This is your lucky day, Jenna."
Breathlessly, she walked over to me, pausing when she drew close. "What should I…?"
"Lay across my lap." At the feeling of her body heat, I almost groaned, thrusting my long-suffering hard-on into her taut belly. But that wouldn’t be consistent with the role. She slid around, trying to find a comfortable spot, and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep quiet. To keep my body still. It was almost impossible.
She twisted her head around to look up at me. "Is this okay?"
"Yes, Jenna, that’s fine." I laid my hand on the soft denim that covered her ass. "Do you think you’ll be able to get the right experience while you’re wearing these? In the film, you’ll be spanked through panties only." Her breath caught in her throat. "I think it’s best to go for authenticity, don’t you?"