The Replacement Model

THE REPLACEMENT MODEL

© Smackmagnet 2008

Opening

1: Lilly and Carmine look at the net

"You're really pretty," Lilly says.

Carmine looks at her sitting there, prim and shy on her sofa. "That's so sweet," she replies, "do you really think so?"

"I wish I looked as nice as you."

They met in a class. Both of them new, at the back, with the serious girls energetic in front. A mirror room, an aerobics lesson. They catch each other's eyes when they stretch and bend over.

"Bet there's some bugger with a camera through that glass." Carmine makes Lilly giggle. They share another laugh when the leader looks cross, then it's sisterly smiles and eye-contact throughout. Carmine brings her bag near to Lilly's when they change. Lilly gets shy though, and picks up own her bag to change in a cubicle.

"Race you to the shower when you're ready, though," says Carmine.

Lilly gets there late. Carmine's nearly finished. Lilly showers clothed, in a one-piece swimsuit. Carmine spots Lilly stealing shy glances to watch as Carmine stretches naked, washing her hair.

But Carmine has gone when Lilly comes out dressed. She's sad, then annoyed. With herself though, not with Carmine. She scowls at herself in the mirror and says, "Stupid."

Carmine's there in the foyer though. "Come on," she says, "I've got you a coffee."

Lilly can't believe it. They chat and laugh and Carmine tells stories. Stuff she got up to as a kid with her cousins. Thieving from shops, not getting caught. Graveyards at midnight. Billy with his flashlight.

"All those things you've done!" Lilly says. "You're so daring!" Her face looks bright and flushed. She feels happy. Someone likes her.

Carmine gives her a lift back home, but they never get there. They stop off at Carmine's on the way, then just stay. She has her own flat, a comfy one-bedroom. Lilly's in a bedsit. She cooks on a tiny two-ring hob and the place is a mess. Even Carmine's sofa is better than her bed. There's music playing on Carmine's laptop, beers in her fridge.

"You're pretty as well though," Carmine says.

"No I'm not."

Carmine frowns. "You are, though. Why d'you say that?"

Lilly's smile stops halfway, then drops. "I'm just not," she says, "I know I'm not."

"That's such a sad attitude. Who told you you're not pretty then?"

"No-one. I just know."

"Well you know wrong then. Is that why you hide your body like that?"

"I hate my body."

Carmine wants to fuck it and can't understand. "Your body's just great. You're out of your mind."

Lilly squints, confused. She's frowning now.

"Not everyone likes stick insects, some people like girls with proper curves."

Still that squint, suspicious.

"Did somebody tell you you're ugly or something?"

Lilly doesn't want to say. It hurts too badly.

"Like, someone maybe when you went to school?"

A nod, quite tiny.

"Girls are really cruel." Carmine tuts. "They didn't mean it."

"No, they did."

"They were jealous."

"It was all the ones who knew they looked nice. Always calling me names."

Carmine tuts. "Pretty bitches."

"Calling me... " Carmine stops.

"What?"

"No, I can't."

"You can, I won't laugh. Girls used to call me tits. But look, they grew!"

"I know," Lilly says, "they're lovely too. All soft and pointy."

Carmine asks quietly, "What did they call you?"

"I can't."

Carmine's head tilts. "Told you mine."

"They said... " She blushes. "My bum was massive."

Carmine smiles.

"You're laughing."

"I'm not. It's really not too big." Carmine wants to play with that great curvy arse.

"It is."

"I've seen it, remember?"

"It's too big."

"It's real. You've got luscious curves!"

Lilly half smiles. "You're taking the mick."

"Show me," says Carmine. "Lift up your skirt."

Lilly looks shocked. "I can't." she says.

"I saw it in class! Look we'll both do it, right?"

Carmine stands up. Then, coy like a stripper, wriggles her pants down over her bum. "Come on," she says, "show me."

"I'd feel stupid," says Lilly.

"Come on. I'm half way."

Lilly won't move. "But your body's lovely!"

"I'm trying to tell you, so is yours."

"It isn't!"

"It is. Look." Carmine slips her pants back up. "I can show you. I'll prove it. Lots of guys like bums like that. A sign of fertility, childbearing hips. J-Lo. Bubble butts."

Lilly just scowls. It's a term she's heard with cruel laughter attached. "That's not a nice name though."

"It's just a thing off the internet. Bubble butts is just girls with great arses."

"They're laughing," says Lil.

"They're not. Its a genre, whole websites with girls with lovely great bottoms, and men pay to see them!"

"It's cruel."

Carmine tuts. "Come on, take a look." She turns to her laptop and opens up a browser. She googles "Bubble butts."

Lilly's staring. Pages of thumbnailed pictures pop up, image after image of backsides proudly flaunted.

"Which one d'you want to see?"

"Is that... porn?" Lilly asks.

"Of course."

Lilly's shocked. She's staring at the little pictures, her face stuck halfway to seeming offended.

"You look at porn?"

"For God's sake," Carmine says, "everyone looks at porn these days."

"Maybe they do where you come from."

Carmine blinks. What does that mean? "Come on, it's just normal. You might find something out. That people might think you're attractive, yes?" She clicks on a shot.

"You see?" she says. "This girl's proud of her assets."

Lilly's just silent. Carmine keeps clicking. It's that same reaction, nothing doing."

"Oh my God. What's that?"

"What's what? Oh that. Well, what d'you expect?"

"What's that... thing?" asks Lilly.

"You want to see it?" This is going nowhere, Carmine thinks, the girl's just a mess. She's so fucked up it's never going to happen. Carmine clicks on the picture. An image pops up of a big-bottomed girl half suspended above the lap of a man. He's got the biggest, thickest penis Lilly's ever seen. The girl's arse cheeks fill the foreground, her feet are back either side of her head, which is framed above her baby-bald crotch. The girl is spreading her own arse cheeks wide. Completely wide. Her crotch glistens open. But it's half as wide as her bumhole below, which gapes as wide as the massive penis.

"Oh my God," says Lilly.

"Yeah, well. Whatever. The internet's packed with pictures like that. But there's quite a lot of good stuff."

Carmine googles "super models." Kate Moss, Helena Cristensen. "Here's the skinny brigade, if you'd rather see that."

The girl's just staring, letting Carmine click. She tries a couple, but there's no response.

"Why would that girl do that?"

"Do what? Oh, that. Well some girls must like it." Carmine can scarcely believe this girl. "Have you really never looked at porn sites before?"

She hesitates, then shakes her head.

"Well what d'you want to look at then?"

"You mean you're not worried? You... you know. You look whenever you want?"

Carmine shrugs. "What else should I do?"

"Aren't you scared someone else might find out?"

Carmine just stares. "What's to be scared of? Do you want me to show you some sites, or what?"

Lilly shrugs, shoulders tight.

"What kind of thing do you want to see?"

"I don't know what's on there," Lilly says.

There's all sorts. Models posing. Couples fucking. Whatever you want. Fetishes, all sorts."

"What's feshishes?"

"Fetishes? Anything that's not straight sex." Carmine types in a website. Lilly realises with a shock that she knows it by heart. A page with some girls' faces starts to build up. Carmine scrolls down, then clicks on an image. Then the "sample movie" link that's hidden inside. Carmine clicks play. She says, "See, there's a fetish."

Lilly's mouth drops open. "Oh my God," she's saying. "Oh my God, it's so red! Her bottom's so red!"

A girl is being caned. She groans as she's struck.

"Some girls. Do anything for cash, eh?"

Lilly is dumbstruck. "Oh my God," she repeats. "Was that really real?"

"Of course it was real."

Lilly's blinking dumbly at the finished clip. "Why would they do that?"

"Who? The models? Some people like it."

"They don't!"

"Suit yourself."

"Well... what, do you like it?"

Carmine looks her in the eye. She says, "Maybe. I like all sorts."

"Oh my God, I never thought."

Carmine's had enough of this. She closes the browser. She tries to steer the conversation away, but Lilly keeps bringing up what they've just seen.

"Why do you like it?"

Carmine tuts. "Really, it's just a bit of porn."

"But why would they do it?"

Carmine sighs.

"You wouldn't, would you?"

Carmine's patience is wearing thin. Her body might be great, but she's really annoying.

"Why do you think I wouldn't?"

"You couldn't," Lilly says.

"So, how d'you know I haven't?"

Lilly stares. "You've done porn?"

She hasn't. She's modelled the once for a laugh. For her cousin Billy, as a truth or dare forfeit. Then once more after, cause she fancies him.

Carmine says, "Sure. Everyone looking at you. Center of attention."

"What have?" Lilly asks. "Oh my God, what sort?"

"Oh, that would be telling. All kinds, you know. You should try it sometime."

"I just couldn't," Lilly says. "It's all sluts that do that." Her hands shoots to her mouth. "Oh my God. My God Carmine, God I didn't mean it."

"It's OK," Carmine says.

"I'm really sorry, I'm really sorry, it's my mum who always says things like that. I'm not judging you, you can do what you like."

"Yes... I can," Carmine says.

"Oh my God. I didn't mean it!"

"Don't worry," Carmine says. "Look, loads of girls do it."

"You must think I'm really horrible. I'm just really so sorry! God, I called you a slut..."

Carmine says curtly, "Leave it, alright?

"Oh God you must think I'm judging you. Is it... was it... did you enjoy it?"

Carmine's annoyed now. This idiot seems to think she's really done porn, like the gaping girl or the girl getting caned. "It was great," she says. "It was really brilliant. Positive. Just the thing. A life-affirming experience."

"I'm sure it must be really good," Lilly says unconvincingly.

It's the stupid pretence that's pissing off Carmine, that she doesn't think it's wrong when clearly she does. Plus the clear belief that Carmine would let her arse get fucked for money. Or her backside thrashed purple. Little looks of disgust. She really wishes Lilly would fuck off and die.

"You should try it," Carmine says, "you might really like it too."

"Oh... " she says. "I don't know. I might."

"You should." You liar.

Lilly's staring, like Carmine's an alien.

"I'll get you some contacts."

"It's just... I was shocked. I mean... did it hurt? What you did? When you modelled?"

"You just think it's gross. You'd think it's gross that I've done things like that."

"No," she says. "I don't." Fingers half-clenched, lying, "It's great if you want to do that. Really positive." Her words come out flat.

"My friend runs a studio. Uses loads of girls like us."

Lilly looks horrified. "Yeah," She says. "Great... "

"I can get you on his books. Then we'll both be on them."

That slow nod, too delayed. Now Carmine hates her. Lust to hatred, all in five minutes.

"It's really not far. We can go in the morning."

"Oh." A long pause. "Oh. I might like that."

"It's positive," Carmine says. "It could change things. Make you feel really good about yourself. Lots of girls do it. Loads... not just me. They do it to make themselves sexier, really. Be confident naked. Those girls at school, who bullied you. I bet they've all tried it. With some, if you've not, you're just not in the crowd. It's way more common than you probably think."

2: Carmine takes Lilly to meet Uncle Cyril; Carmine tells Cyril what she really thinks

Lilly sleeps on the sofa that night. She wants to go home, but she's not sure where she is, and it's late, and Carmine's not taking her hints about a lift. She lies on the sofa, arms tight, not sleeping. How could she say that? She hears herself say the word, "slut," and cringes. She feels just so stupid. Carmine seemed cold at the end, like she'd been hurt. She just can't believe that she's done things like that! She suddenly feels like she's losing her friend. And Carmine's so bold. So what if she's done some really dirty things? Oh my God, how could she? She can sneak off in the morning, before Carmine gets up. Oh my God, she's done porn.

She wants to take her to a studio. It's stupid. They wouldn't want to film her. If she creeps away though, Carmine will think she really hates her.

She's afraid she won't wake early but she does, before Carmine. She lies there, too cold, staring at the light through the living room blinds. Her bladder hurts badly. She keeps telling herself to just get up and go, but she's got to take a wee. It'll wake Carmine up, she'll get caught sneaking out. She's so scared to offend, she just lies there, worried, spare duvet up to her nose on the couch.

Carmine stops dead when she sees her later, toothbrush in hand, like she's barely remembered she'd be there. "Oh," she says. "Hi. Yeah. You wanted to go to the studio, hey? To see about some modelling."

Lilly keeps telling herself to say no. She avoids it through breakfast. In the car, she just holds her fingers to her mouth as Carmine chats on.

"Hmm," she keeps saying. "Oh, yes... I agree." But she's barely even hearing what the other girl's saying.

Uncle Cyril gets as shock when his niece brings in a girl. Billy's in a lot, but he didn't even know Carmine knew the location of the studio. Then he's totally surprised when Carmine asks him for a camera.

"We need to take some shots of my friend. For your books."

Cyril takes a good look at the girl. Her body's alright. Decent enough looking, but the girl seems so gauche, what can she be thinking?

Lilly has to go to the loo again.

Uncle Cyril's frowning. "Who the hell is she, Carmine?"

"Some girl I met, Uncle."

"And she knows what we do here?"

"Not really."

"What the hell, girl?"

"Can we shoot her?"

"As a model? What, you want to shoot her?"

Carmine thinks. "Tell her she's got to do it. You shoot her."

"Right now I'd only shoot her for the books," Cyril says. "I don't know who she is, do I? Look Carmine, cause it's you, I'll do a few test shots."

"Good. Try and make her do something embarrassing."

Cyril looks. "What the hell, girl?" He asks, quietly, "Did she hurt my favourite niece then?"

"Something like that," Carmine says.

"You want her naked? How far do you want me to get her to go?"

"I don't know. Start her in a swimsuit. She's got one of those in her bag," Carmine says.

He gets out the camera and fires up the lights. Carmine brings the girl in. She's still in her clothes, looking wary and nervous.

"Are you not getting changed, dear?"

Lilly just blinks.

"If I've got to take test shots, you've got to get changed."

"That swimsuit," says Carmine. "Put that on, Lilly."

Lilly stares. "What d'you mean?"

Cyril thinks. "Look, Carmine thinks you'd make a good model. From what I can see I'd agree. But I need to see your figure, girl." He blinks at her slowly. "So go and get changed."

Lilly looks shocked. Carmine takes her to the changing room. "It's just for a test. He can't publish these, not without a model release. I want you to know that an industry professional thinks you're perfectly pretty. That he'd put you in his films and things. Even if you never do it."

"How long's it got to take?"

"Half an hour." She shrugs. "An hour at most. If you like it, Cyril can go off and I'll take over."

Lilly doesn't start to change till Carmine puts her swimsuit in her hand.

"I'll even turn my back," she says.

"In front of a man, though," Lilly says.

Carmine just laughs. "Cyril's seen everything."

Lilly does as she's told and changes into her one-piece suit. It's still wet and cold from last night's shower. Carmine escorts her to the studio.

Oh my God, Lilly thinks, what's she doing here? How's she got here? Standing in a swimsuit in front of some dirty old man. And what sort of things must happen in here? Carmine's standing next to him, telling Lilly what a professional he is... A professional at what? she thinks. They've put her in the middle of the floor on this long white paper coming down from the wall. She's between these two turned-off lights, oh my God. She thinks, why won't I learn to just say what I mean? How have I let Carmine bring me here? Lilly's mother would die if she knew. She'd disown her, have her exorcised or something. Make her confess in front of all her mum's religious nut friends. She can barely imagine the consequences.

"Alright, darling, show us your figure."

She's not his darling. Some strange man giving her orders like that. Lilly stands there like a lemon.

"That means drop your arms," the big man says.

She does it slowly, unwrapping them from in front of her chest. He's one of those men like she notices sometimes. Too old for you ever want to kiss them. But really deep-voiced. You can't read his face, the way he just looks. BIg shoulders, big hands. Face a bit red. His eyes just staring! Looking where he wants, at her breasts, at her crotch.

"This your first time, darling? What's your first name?"

She's not his darling. She wishes men wouldn't call her that, it sounds so sleazy. She says her mane, but it catches in her throat. She can't even say her name first time!

"Lilly," she manages.

"Good. Walk around slowly on the spot then, Lilly."

He talks like he's sure she'll just do what he tells her. She finds herself turning in her clammy wet swimsuit, arms rigid at her sides.

"What do you think of her figure?" asks Carmine.

He says, "Decent. Alright. At first glance, love."

"You see?" Carmine says.

Lilly's turned around. He says, "Do it again love, just keep going round. Slower though, till I tell you to stop."

She feels so stupid, these silly little shuffles. Her feet turn her round like a marionette.

The big man says to Carmine, "Plenty of curves, eh? She could straighten up her shoulders though." Then, "Decent tits from what I can see. Nice hip to waist differential. Very nice, yeah, that's quite something."

Just talking about her bits like that! Like those older men whose eyes strip you naked, even when you're just walking past in the street.

"Not too short then?" Carmine asks.

Lilly feels like she's being sized up for a dog show.

"Well, her legs could be a little touch longer. But no, takes all sorts." He says to Lilly, "Hands on your head, love. Couple more turns."

She hesitates, does lifts her hands. But doesn't start turning.

"Go on." says Carmine. "It's alright, really."

They let her stop, though make her keep her hands up on top of her head. The man's looking through a type of camera Lilly's never seen before. Jet black, wide lens, with a big chunk on the bottom and a wire trailing out. She's not sure if he's taken any pictures yet, then these lights just flash! She's startled, jumps back. A picture of Lilly, standing in a swimsuit.

"What do you think of her face then, Cyril?"

"Alright if she'd smile," he says. "Like a slapped arse at the moment. Smile at her, darling. You smile, she'll smile back."

Carmine beams at Lilly.

"Yeah. Good enough."

Carmine's head tips. "What about her bum, then?"

Cyril says, "Lilly, turn to your right. Keep your hands up."

She feels so embarrassed, being ordered like this, by this man who deals in smut. And she's doing what he tells her!

"Touch more, darling."

She shuffles clockwise. They just stand there, staring.

"Well?" asks Carmine.

"That arse," says her uncle, "would make for good business. That'd go down big. One lovely firm arse, and plenty of it."

"Are you listening, Lilly?" Carmine asks.

Lilly's cheeks jut out from her thighs like a pair of half footballs, with an in-slope at the top. Cyril can see when she moves that they're firm. There's no denying, her arse is big. Just the kind he likes. Young and resilient, plenty of target. An arse like that could take plenty of stick. Not quite so big that it looks deformed, but big enough to absorb some serious abuse. The lines of the swimsuit press in at the back. He takes another picture.

"You think you might use her?"

"I'll tell you after." To Lilly he asks, "Any tattoos darling?"

Lilly's biting her lip. She shakes her head underneath her hands.

"Good, keep it that way. You ever want to model, that's a serious downer. First tattoo, that's half of your clients gone. A second, that's another chunk. It's a law of diminishing returns, my love. Any more and there's hardly any bugger left. No scars then, to speak of? You've not had a baby?"

Lilly, shocked, just shakes her head.

"Alright. Face forward." He nods his head down. "What's under the bonnet?"

She has no idea what he's talking about.

He turns to Carmine. "Is she furry, or shaved?"

Lilly blushes crimson.

"Want to be a model," says Cyril, "these days it's probably best to shave. Find out how first, though. Carmine might know a couple of tricks. Cause the last thing you want is a shaving rash. Now, show me your tits, love. Top down, let 'em loose.

Lilly seems affronted. She just stares, hands clutching.

"It's alright Lilly," Carmine says. "He can't use the pictures. Not without permission."

She's still barely moved. "I can't," she says.

Cyril glances at his niece.

She says, "Please. For me."

No response. Hands clutched tight.

"It's alright Lilly, really it is."

Lilly's digging her heels in now, and shaking her head.

"Please Lil, yes? I want you to."

Cyril's had enough. He says, "Lilly? Look. Whatever the game, you're wasting my time here. I've very little patience, I'm a very busy man. You walked through that door, so now you're on my patch. So do me a favour. Take down your top."

Lilly's looking shocked. Her fingers have unclutched, but they're still down low.

"Put your hands up here, and pull it down."

He's not shouting. He's got quiet, deep and low. She's touching one strap.

"Hold it. Pull it down Now the other one. Stop."

He looks through his lens. Her arms are either side of her bust, one hand each on a strap, pushing up her tits. The flashes respond.

"Now pull it right off."

Her hands are finely shaking.

He says, "Pull your top down. Now."

It's barely an order. Not angry, not barked, but she knows he means it.

"Right off. Now let go."

The flashes flash. She stands there, feet flat to the floor, hands hanging.

"Go clockwise. Now stop."

Another flash.

"Good. Things'll go faster if you do what I say. Now... a proper pose. Put your hands on your thighs and bend forwards. Do it now."

She does. She's so nervous. She hasn't a clue where to look. She just tilts. The pose is ugly, but her tits are great. They're juicy big, Cyril sees. They hang down, good and rude. They've got broad aureoles with lots of small milk glands. Soft, dark nipples.

Cyril makes her turn again. She's obeying now, but her poses are crap.

"Show me your bum, love."

Lilly doesn't understand.

"I'm not going to make you take off your coz. Stick your fingers in the back though, and pull it up between your cheeks."

She's pointing her bum at a man with a camera... a stranger, a pervert. She keeps doing what he tells her. Her hands go half back, then just hover, uncertain.

"Carmine love, show her."

Carmine steps forward. She doesn't hesitate. The middle finger from each hand reaches low and slips under Lilly's costume. They slide down inside, to her crotch, which, to Lilly's shock, they touch, quite distinctly. They pull back and away. The gusset goes with them and stretches back. Carmine tugs, quite strongly. She pulls the costume up and in, pushing one of Lilly's cheeks to one side. The costume wedges in between her buttocks.

"Like that," says Carmine, and twice pats Lilly's cheek.

Cyril shakes his head to himself. His niece is revealing a side he never knew. He's quickly reassessing.

He takes some more snaps, trying to direct her. The girl could be great... her body's quite dirty... look at those tits, look at that magnificent arse! Her face is alright, she's quite pretty, not a stunner. But it's good enough for one of his sites. But she's useless as well... it's clear she's never modelled, and she seems quite reluctant, like Carmine's the one who wants her to do it. And she just hasn't got a fucking clue how to pose. But that's not why she's here now, is it?

He pushes her as far as he can, but he doesn't feel it's right to make her strip naked. He's got some morals, hasn't he? You can't fucking force 'em. So he just tries to get her to squeeze her tits. To pull her nipples... that one takes some work. Then Carmine asks for one with her hands on her bum. that takes a while as well, plus some hands-on from Carmine. Carmine pulls no punches. She's definitely making her part those big cheeks, even if it is behind her costume. He gets in a snap before the girl lets go. Carmine wants to push it, he can see, but he's won't: not if she's reluctant. He tells her to change cause he's got to get on.

The results, though... The poor bloody girl, he can see it in the pictures when he grabs them to the desktop while the girl's still changing. What a state. What a waste. So alright, she's decent looking. A body that would suit his main site to a tee, what with porn taking all sorts.

She's terrible though. She's no confidence on camera, no sense of line, no sense of grace. She looks awkward and uncomfortable and he's sure he'll never be able to use her. What a waste, he thinks. What a miserable waste.

Carmine goes and wangles Lilly's contact details from her. Her mobile, her address. The poor cow doesn't even have an email, no wonder she's never even looked at a porn site. Carmine takes her down to the nearest tube. They're fairly silent in the car. Lilly's feeling fazed.

"Won't tell no-one, will you? What I done in there?"

"God, what are you so scared about? Take a risk now and then! Just live some fucking life!"

Carmine can't dump her off fast enough. She leaves her by the roadside then barely glances back as she drives away.

***

She races back to the studio. She wants to see the pictures Cyril's taken of Lilly.

"Jesus Carmine," he says, "twice in one day? You've never been through my door before!"

"Show me the snaps Uncle Cyril," she says.

So he shows her. Carmine scrolls and clicks. Then she stops at the picture of Lilly bending over, half parting her cheeks.

"Can I print this one off?"

It's the worst of the bunch, her uncle thinks... the girl looks so uncomfortable. But maybe that's why Carmine wants it. Is she getting revenge? Carmine's smirking when she lifts it from his printer. He finds her an envelope to put it in.

"Can't publish that. You know that, Carm? It's not Kosher to stick it on the net with no release."

"That's not what it's for," she says.

He peers at her, eyes narrowing. "So, Carmine," he muses. "Didn't even know you knew where the studio is. What's the score? What's up?"

"I've been here with Billy."

"Oh, have you now? What doing, I wonder?"

She laughs. "Just looking. Did you think you might find some pictures of me?"

"God forbid," he says. "So what was the verdict?"

"On what?" Carmine asks.

"On whatever you found."

She shrugs. "Seemed quite a laugh," she says.

"And you seem like such a good girl, Carmine."

She snorts and says, "Thanks."

"And what did nephew Billy show you? The modelling, was it?"

"Is that what you call it?"

"What would you call it then?"

"I'd call it more like spanking, Uncle."

"Would you, now?" He laughs to himself.

"With rather a lot of caning thrown in."

"He's shown you all that, then?"

"Yes," she says simply.

"And?" he asks.

"I think... each to his own."

"You didn't feel sorry for the models, then?"

She laughs. "Why should I?"

"Some people might be shocked. Some might not want to look."

"Well that's up to them, then."

"So you're not that bothered? Don't think it's too hard?"

"You should cane them harder."

A pause. "Is that right now?"

"Yes," she says.

"As a girl then, you're not bothered that it might be, say, humiliating?"

"That's part of it, isn't it?"

"It is," he says. "Not bothered then?"

"No," she says.

"Ah," he says. "Is it... something you'd want to happen to you?"

She stares him in the eye as she shakes her head slowly.

"But you don't mind it happening to somebody else?"

"Not if it's someone like Lilly," she says.

"Who's a woman. And a man?"

"If he wants."

"Would you watch it?"

"I might. But I can't say I'd fully enjoy it."

"Well well," he says. "So... what about your mum and dad?"

"What about them?" Carmine asks.

"Did you tell 'em? What you think of the site? I thought I was some kind of very black sheep."

"They might think so. Billy doesn't."

"But Billy's dad's a bad lad, Carmine. They've locked him up. I let Billy work here as a favour, so to speak. His mum don't like it much at all, but Billy seems to think with his own bonce."

"And so do I. So I'll think what I like."

"Very interesting, Carmine. The youth of today, no telling what they'll think. So... what about the girl? What gives? What you after with her?"

"She's... well, I thought a friend, maybe. But to be honest with you Cyril, she just started to annoy me. Seems to think I'm some kind of total slut."

"So she hurt you, then?"

"Not hurt exactly." Carmine's face pinches. "Maybe. A bit. She's so fucking prissy though, she's from another planet."

"Prissy's not a sin though, is it? But she thinks my lovely niece Carmine's a slut? "

"She said that. At one point."

Cyril tips his head back. "So... what do you want? We I put her in a film?"

Carmine laughs. "That I wouldn't mind, now."

"Cause I've got to tell you, she's no fucking model."

"She's an amateur, Uncle. Imagine her face."

"Her face?"

"If you caned her."

"And you think you'd like to see that?"

"Yes. I think I'd enjoy it very much."

"And what would you think her face might do?"

"I think it might go through a whole range of emotions."

"Tears, maybe?"

"Tears might be a start, perhaps."

"Just a start? Is that right?"

"Well, she seems to be pretty good at looking stupid. Confusion... panic... shock, maybe. Misery? Whatever."

"Carmine, you shock me."

"So wouldn't that go down well with the punters?"

"The punters, as you call them, would most likely applaud."

"See?" Carmine smiles. "I'm doing you a favour! And let's face it... that arse could just take it, eh?"

He laughs. Laughs again. "Yes, it probably could. So you really don't care what we do to your friend?"

Carmine snorts. "God, no, help yourself! Just do me a favour and give me a key to the site when you've done!"

"I can give my niece access anytime she asks. Send me an email and I'll send you a login. Only do me one favour. Don't tell, alright?"

"I wouldn't pass that on, of course not."

"No... not the login. I mean don't tell your parents. This little chat... your friend... let's keep it to ourselves, Alright?"

"Absolutely," says Carmine.

"My little niece." He laughs. "Well well. So you've got that printout. Would you maybe like the jpegs? I can drop them on a disc for you."

"Oh please," she says. "I'd like that, yes."

3: Cyril calls Dickie, Dickie calls Malcolm; Gaz and Gracie cause a problem

Cyril's next production is scheduled already. He's got a rough script and a director who he's used enough times to leave in charge. The director books in a cameraman who's used to the work, and Cyril hires two models and a bloke he's used before to swish the cane. Cyril can't attend himself... he's off at an industry conference. Then three days before, the director drops a spoke in the works. He can't be there either, he's forgotten his daughter's graduation event.

So Cyril's up shit creek. No shoot means no updates... there's no slack in the system. They're uploading just as soon as work's edited. Cyril's determined not to fall behind, though. He's updated them like clockwork for at least two years.

He calls up an agent. The bloke's provided him with talent before, both models and crew. Cyril explains the problem he's got, and Dickie sets to work. He needs a director. Malcolm's just out of his shower when Dickie calls, still damp inside a big wraparound towel.

"Hello?" he says.

"Dickie. Your agent. I've got you a job."

"Oh... great, yeah. What is it?"

"A bit off your beat. Take a breath," Dickie says.

"What is it? Drama?"

"Sort of," Dickie says.

"You got me a drama? How long? What is it?"

Dickie sucks his teeth. "Small budget," he says.

"A drama's a drama. What's the job?"

"Just don't put the phone down on me."

Malcolm blinks. What's this?

"There's a script, three actors. And one big long cane."

"A what?"

"A cane. Cause it's spanking, my friend."

"Spanking? You mean... "

"Yeah, models. Their posteriors."

Malcolm feels a bit like he's being kicked in the crotch. Only not... he's not sure what he's feeling down there.

"Porn?" he asks quietly.

"Fetish, you might call it. For a friend, name of Cyril. He's been very good to me over the years, a terrific client."

"But... porn," says Malcolm.

"I don't do a lot now. But Cyril was one of my very first clients. And you can't be too proud, friend, not in this game. Just tell me... what's our relationship?"

"Our what?" asks Malcolm.

"Have I not got you jobs?"

"Well of course."

"That's right. And I'll still get you more."

"Well I know. But I mean... "

"Naked ladies, friend. Think about that when you do your next corporate. Some nice nubile models."

"Well... um," Malcolm says. He can still feel that feeling, an odd conflicting pressure, like watching a striptease with his mum in the room.

"Take the job," Dickie says. "Do it for me. I've got no corporates and I need you for this."

"I can't put it on my reel."

"Stuff your reel," Dickie tells him. "Besides it's just spanking... There's a script, they do lines. The girls don't even show their cracks."

Malcolm says, "Oh lord." There's a definite dent at his towelling line.

"I don't hear you saying yes just yet. So, some truth. Are you married?"

"Well... no, you know I'm not."

"Got an interfering girlfriend then? One who'll sticks her nose in all your business?"

"Of course I haven't," Malcolm says.

"So why are you being stuck-up here? It's a drama for Christ's sake."

"With girls getting caned. It is though... not men?"

"Course it's girls, you prat."

"Small mercies," says Malcolm.

"So you'll take it?"

There's a pause.

"So why's there a problem?"

"The industry. I work with people."

"I'm working with you. What, you're scared some bugger's going to find out? Well I won't tell if you won't. I'm out on a limb here Malcolm, I need you. I know your game and the porn game don't often mix. I'm taking a risk for me as well. You might get all offended and slink off to the competition. But I wouldn't make the offer if I didn't think you'd cope. Professional ethics, that's all it takes. But you know what, Malcolm? If I was you, not attached, still free... I'd jump at a chance to direct naked ladies."

"Well... yes. I'm sure."

Dickie leaves a pause. Then, "They're naked. You're not. They're there for the directing."

Malcolm feels his brow start to sweat. His erection doesn't know if it's coming or going.

"Naked ladies," Dickie says. "Ladies exposed for your cool delectation."

"I've just never done a porno," Malcolm moans.

"First time for everything, eh friend?"

"Oh my lord."

"So you're doing me a favour. But you're hardly going to suffer. A man of your talents should breeze through this."

"Well alright... I suppose I'll do it."

"I feel proud. You're the man."

***

Rehearsals take place on the evening before, in Cyril's basement studio down the Mile End Road. Malcolm's worked in more salubrious places. He looks at the script... it's wooden and predictable... but he doesn't have time to start pissing about. He stumbles around with the actors rehearsing, trying to get a performance. One girl's pretty good, the one called Mel, but the other is thick as two short planks and won't stop giggling. Plus the actor, the spanker, turns up late then won't take rehearsals seriously. He starts messing about with the useless girl, who he seems to have worked with before sometime. There's a young lad called Billy who sits watching up on a worktop at the edge. And a cameraman called Clive who seems shocked when Malcolm tells him he's the director.

"Where's Norman?" asks Clive.

"Who's Norman?" asks Malcolm.

"He directs these things."

"He couldn't make it."

"Fucking hell," Clive says, "no-one tells me anything."

Malcolm bustles and does his best, but he's pretty sure this will all turn out pretty wooden. He can't make Spank Man focus. And he can't make Giggle Girl stop sniggering at Spank Man's stupid jokes, which he keeps cracking at Malcolm's expense.

After rehearsals, they head for the pub. Malcolm gets invited, but he leaves just as soon as Clive makes his exit. Mister Cane, whose name is Gaz, knocks back pints laced with chasers with Giggle Girl, Gracie. The young lad Billy is is talking to Mel, all relaxed with one foot up on the chair he's leaning back on. At least he notices when Malcolm says his goodnights though, which is more than Spank Man and Giggle Girl do.

Next morning, Gaz and Gracie are no-shows. Billy's there, but still keeping his distance. Malcolm and Clive get everything set up then sit twiddling their thumbs with Mel till Gaz shows up forty minutes late, looking green around the gills. He clearly has a hangover, and confirms it when he throws up on the patio outside Cyril's kitchen.

Malcolm phones Gracie's mobile time after time. It rings at first, but then it starts diverting to an anonymous machine voice. She's clearly turned it off. So Malcolm resigns himself to calling up Cyril, whose number he's been given for emergencies.

Cyril's phone buzzes in the middle of a seminar. He's mightily pissed off since the bloody thing was actually informative.

Malcolm explains the no-show. Cyril curses models in general. Malcolm tells him Gaz keeps throwing up. Cyril says he'll fucking kill him.

Cyril tells Malcolm, "You're just have to busk it. I'm in Birmingham, fucking miles away."

"Busk it?" Malcolm asks. "I'm missing two actors! There's only three in the script to start with!"

Cyril sighs. This pillock's dumping the problem off on him.

Cyril calls Dickie the Agent. Dickie's trouble is double bubble cause it's him who's come up with Gracie the model.

"And that Malcolm twat, he's just flanneling. What an incompetent pair of wankers. Get me a fucking model. Not tomorrow, not later, right fucking now Dickie, or don't go expecting my business again."

Dickie phones around, frantic. Gracie's phone's off, nobody's seen her. When he tries his models, they're away, or busy, or won't touch spanking with a six foot bargepole. He's panicking now. This has all gone tits-up.

He calls Cyril at last.

"You know me Cyril, I don't give up easy. I've been phoning and phoning, but I'm running out of options. The only girls I had who might do it... one's pregnant and the other's just got married and decided to jack all her modelling in. I even tried a few rival agents, the ones who'll talk to me. But it's Saturday, Cyril. Two of them are midweek only and the other one just laughed in my face. We're fucked. I'm very sorry indeed. All I can say is, my fee for Malcolm is already waived."

"Is that it? All options tried?"

"I'd be phoning now if they weren't, you know that. No luck at your end?"

"I've been calling around but I'm blanking as well. I found one who's willing who we've used before, but she's up in Aber-sodding-deenshire right now. If you think of anything, call me right away."

"I'm sorry."

"So am I, so, so am I."

Cyril calls the studio. Malcolm answers. Cyril bumps him off. "Get me Billy. Get him now."

Malcolm, fazed, hands the phone to the lad. "It's Cyril," he says.

"Hey," Billy says, "Uncle."

"What's it like there? Any change? Has that idiot discovered how to improvise yet?"

"Who, Malcolm? No, mate."

"I've got to have an update for the end of the week. It's important, Bill. If that fucker's not performing, I'm relying on you. You've got my full permission. Use the girl who's still there and make something work. Don't let her go! In the meantime I need a favour from you. Your cousin Carmine. I need her number."

"Carmine?" asks Billy. "I ain't watching Carmine caned. She ain't into it, Cyril, that's a definite no."

"Don't be a fucking lemon," says Cyril, "her parents would burn the studio down."

"I'd burn it down myself, come to that."

"Just give me her number."

Billy fiddles with his mobile. "I can see it, hang on." He reads the number out.

Cyril calls Carmine.

"Uncle Cyril?" she asks.

He tells her that he's royally stuffed. Carmine's noncommittal since she doesn't quite know what he's calling about. A model's gone AWOL, Cyril reveals. Billy and Co are stuck going nowhere.

"That girl you brought in the other day... I called purely on the off-chance that you might be able to get her to play. I know it's not your problem, honey."

"For a minute I thought you were going to ask me."

"That I'd never presume. But that girl, what's the low-down?"

"I did twist her arm a bit."

He tells her he can't drag up a model for love nor money. He wonders if Carmine might consider twisting her arm again.

"What job for, exactly?"

"I'd need her for the receiving end. At least for a spanking... hopefully more."

He talks about Mel, how he's used her in the past but they're maxed out on her.

"Another problem... the dom's this prick who's fucked it all up. He got the no-show model pissed. Plus he's sick... keeps chucking up... so I'd far rather ditch the prick overboard."

Mel he wants to upgrade to dom, if only he can dredge up another model. But he's pulling a blank, and so is the agent.

"So the only prospect who's darkened my door is your girl Lilly. I'm out on a limb here, no way is it your job to provide me with models. But then again... it was you who brought her in. So I figured it can't hurt to ask. Am I right?"

"You'd really use her? I thought you said she was rubbish as a model."

"I don't need her to model. Just to react. I just need some bird who'll take a good spanking. Anything... we're out of updates... five minutes of her over Mel's lap would help. So what do you think?"

"Now that sounds like a challenge. I'm free for a while, I could give it a go."

"If she's game, you can have a nice fat finder's fee. Partly cause I'm desperate, partly to show you how grateful I am. Any favour you like, to be honest."

She asks him when he needs her.

"There's the real catch, Carmine, I need her right now. Your cousin and his crew are just twiddling their digits."

"I couldn't guarantee it though."

"I didn't think you could, my love. After trying to get her to give the other day, I wouldn't put your chances high.

"How long would you need her?"

"Couple of hours. That's in front of the camera, total production."

She asks how long she can have to get her to the studio. Cyril says just a couple of hours. Maybe three if she's sure the girl will perform. "After that we'll just have to go with Mel, drag some fool off the street to crack the cane."

Carmine's game. She'll give it a go. If there's nothing's on, she'll tell him straight away. "Should be fun," she says.

"I'm glad you see it that way. I'm pulling my hair out in clumps over here."

4: Carmine takes her silver tongue out for a spin

Pick up, pick up.

There's no answer at first, but the ringing doesn't click to an answer message. She lets it run on, then peers at her phone and disconnects. "Come on," she says, then calls again. She feels her heart thumping. Come on, pick up.

It connects. The voice sounds so surprised, like no-one ever calls this line. "Hello?

A moment's silence at Carmine's end. "Lilly. It's me."

Silence coming her way, too. "Oh... " says Lilly.

"It's Carmine. Remember?"

"Carmine? Really? Oh my God, Carmine. I couldn't find my phone... was that you before as well?"

Carmine feels good about this. The girl seems so surprised she's called at all. And she's sounding such a dope, she thinks she might just sucker her into this.

"What are you up to, Lil?" She tells herself to take it slow though.

"Doing? Erm... I've just woken up."

"Really? The good life. I was wondering, Lilly... could I maybe come round?"

"Come round? To my place? Oh my God, when?"

"Well... now," says Carmine.

"Now?" asks Lilly, stupidly. "Oh... "

"What's the matter? Got some company?"

"Company? God, no, I just live on my own, I never have visitors. Only... "

"Busy later then?"

"Oh no, no. It's just... "

"What?"

A pause. "My place. It's not like your place, Carmine."

"I didn't expect it would be, lovely girl. Can I come round though? You're free? Nothing on?"

"I never have nothing on. Oh my God, I've got to tidy up."

"Don't worry, we can go out instead."

"No, I've got to take a shower. Or something."

"That's definitely a good idea, But hurry, alright? I'll be half an hour."

"Oh my God," says Lilly, sounding bemused.

"Come on, chop-chop. See you in a bit then."

"You don't know where I live," Lilly moans.

"I do. I took your address down, remember?"

Carmine drops the connection. She texts her uncle: She's in. Going round now. With her in under half hour. Then Carmine makes herself smell nice, checks her reflection, puts on slap and bling, and drives round.

She's there in twenty minutes, sooner than she said she would be. It's a big old house with a dozen buzzers in a twin line. Lilly presses number eight, where "Bellman" is written in scratchy ballpoint pen. There's quite a long wait. She presses again. She eventually sees a figure swooning up to the mottled glass. Lilly isn't fully dressed.

"Carmine," she says. "I'm really sorry... I couldn't get in the shower, someone was in it. You must think I'm a bit really slovenly, mustn't you?" She's dragged on a short skirt and a thin top before she was really ready. She's holding a hand in front of her chest, but Carmine can see a shadow of a nipple behind. Her plump thighs below are glistening wet. This is more like it, Carmine thinks.

"Can I come in then?"

She hesitates. "Alright. Yes, come in. I couldn't tidy up, you'll think I live like a total slob. I only just had time to get in the shower."

"Lead the way then," Carmine says.

The girl has to walk in front of her, up four short flights of stairs. Carmine walks behind and below, far enough back to see flashes of cheeks at the base of the skirt, and peeks of white knickers.

Her room is a state. Carmine sees that the windows are open. Probably needed an airing, she thinks. Unwashed clothes are strewn about. A few manky plates stick up in sink which doubles as a washbasin. The bed sheets are creased and half thrown off, the wallpaper probably twenty years old. The ceiling's stained with tar from past residents.

"God," Lilly says, "now you can see it all." She stands there, uncomfortable. "I never thought I'd see you again."

"You were wrong then, weren't you?"

"Not after seeing me trying to pose."

"You weren't all that bad, hon." Slowly, now.

"I know what you were trying to do though. I've been thinking quite hard."

Carmine takes the one chair in the room, an upright by the open window. There's a garden below, overgrown with brambles and strewn with rejected furniture.

"So tell me," says Carmine. "What did you think?"

"Don't be offended. When you said you'd done porn... I was really really shocked. Just, I never thought girls like you might do things like that. You just seem so nice."

Carmine listens placidly and lets her go run on.

"It's my mum," says Lilly, "she always says those girls are so common. Who do things like that. She says they've got no morals. But you're not like that at all, Carmine, are you?"

Depends how you look at it, Carmine thinks. She crosses her legs, with an elegant toe-point. "Our bodies are for us to use. We're sexual beings. We can use them how we choose," she says. And my God, that sound so convincing as well.

"And I know what you were doing with that man," Lilly says.

Carmine lifts an eyebrow. "Do tell," she says.

"You were making me see how I've got a good body."

"Was I?" Carmine asks.

"Yes you were. And I really appreciate it. I didn't know men might find my body sexy. I know I acted shocked. I've been thinking about it loads though, hard."

"And what have you decided?"

"I know I was wrong. If you want to do porn, you can do it, can't you? Nobody should tell you what to do."

"Do you think you might dip a toe in again?"

"Me?" she asks. "No I meant you. I just wanted you to know, I don't think it's bad. You should do what you want."

"So should you," says Carmine.

"Oh... no, I couldn't."

"What's sauce for the goose."

"Oh I know. Oh of course."

Carmine stops, thinking. Lilly's standing uncomfortably. "I just want to get this straight... it's morally OK if I do some posing... some porn... but it wouldn't be if you did?"

"No. I don't mean that... "

"Sounds like one law for you and one for the rest of us." She knows she's about to be aggressive with Lilly, but she thinks it's worth a shot. "If that's really what you think, then... underneath... you still think I'm a slut."

"It's not what I think. I don't think you're a slut, I don't, I never thought that."

"You said it though."

"It's not wrong! I said! It's my mum," Lilly says.

"So if she thinks some way, you have to as well, do you?"

"I don't! It's not wrong!"

Carmine shrugs. "You're still doing everything your mum wants, though."

"Oh my God," Lilly says, "you must think I'm so weak."

"I don't know. Are you?"

Lilly feels naked. Her hands move nervously. "I don't know. Am I weak?"

"That's for you to tell me."

"I don't know," Lilly says.

"So, let's say... for example... that I'm here cause I found you a modelling job. Where you could show off that great figure that you now realise is so attractive to men. Would you take it? Would you dare? Or are you always going to do what Mummy says? Just live life second hand, too scared to make a splash or stir the pond?"

"You must think I'm such a coward... "

"I don't know yet, do I? You were brave enough the other day."

Lilly blinks at her. "You thought I was brave?"

"Of course I do. That took guts, getting naked in front of a stranger."

"You think I was brave?"

"All those models, all those strippers... you think they're not brave? It takes plenty of bottle to get up on stage. Like I thought you had, last time. But now you're back to... what? Hiding away? Hiding in this bedsit for the rest of your life? Always doing what Mummy says?"

Lilly's got her hand to her mouth.

"If I'd got you a shoot, would you dare to take it?"

"It's just... people might see."

"See what?"

"All those pictures! Of me... " Here she whispers. "... showing my bits."

Carmine thinks. "So you wouldn't have a problem if nobody saw?"

Lilly doesn't answer.

"You'd dare to be brave if your mum never knew?"

"I don't know... I suppose not."

"So what about other people? If it wasn't your mum, or anyone she knew? Just some random strangers?"

"I don't know... " She shrugs, weakly. "If it wasn't anyone I knew at all... "

"You'd really dare to?"

"I might if you thought I was being brave."

"I'm going to ask you a question. Do you know how big the internet is?"

Lilly just looks clueless.

"How many pages? Have you any idea?"

Lilly shakes her head.

"Millions, or billions?"

She shrugs. "I don't know."

"It's billions, Lilly. Thousands of millions. So many, your mum could browse around for a hundred years and never find an image of you. If we sat on a computer and you tried to find some pictures of me... just random searches... I'll guarantee we could never find them. Do you know why, Lilly? First the number of models on the net... it's hundreds of thousands. Millions maybe, Lilly. Model after model after model after model. And the second reason we'd never find them. They're hidden inside a secure pay site. The only people who'll ever get to see them are the ones who pay for the privilege. And one thing I'll guarantee with your mum... she's never going to pay for porn now, is she? Does she even have a computer, Lilly?"

Lilly just blushes. "She doesn't, I know. But my brother does."

"And what would he say?"

"I don't know," Lilly moans.

Carmine thinks it's time to go in for the kill. "You know what I think?" She tips her head. "I think all this nonsense with your mum is just an excuse. I think it's really you. I just don't think you've brave enough."

Lilly's eyes well up with tears. "I am," she says. Her voice is cracking.

"Are you? Really"

"Yes!" Lilly says. "I would. I'd do it! Please don't think I'm a coward, Carmine!"

Carmine's got a faint little smile at her mouth. She says, "There's my brave girl." She stands and comes close, looking Lilly in the eyes, and wipes out the tears. She tips her face forward and gives her a kiss. "I knew you had it in you. Come on. Put a coat on."

"A coat?" asks Lilly.

"That's all you're going to need. Some shoes and a coat."

Lilly looks startled. "Where are we going?"

Carmine winks, takes Lilly's face in her hands. She kisses her lips for a couple of seconds. Then dropping one hand down, she brushes Lilly's nipple. "We're going to take this gorgeous body out for a spin."

5: Cyril calls Billy to say who's in charge; Carmine and Lilly talk in the car

While Lilly panics and runs to the loo, Carmine texts Cyril. It's a go so far. She doesn't know it's spanking yet. ETA prob half hour. Tell Billy be cool, I'll do talking. PS Lilly thinks I'm porn pixie.

You're marvellous... you're the Spanking Fairy, her uncle texts back.

Cyril calls Billy. "Might have you a model shortly. Complete beginner. You'll never guess the source, lest two and two is your strong point. If it comes off Billy, Make Mel the new dom. We're way off the script now. Improvising is obviously not Dickie's director's strong point or he'd have chucked something together with Mel already. Don't let him fuck it up."

"Got it," says Billy. "What about your spanking mate. Chuck-up boy Gaz?"

"Is that twat still hanging about? Give him the boot, Bill. He don't get paid, neither... he can fuck right off. And Billy... important... if it comes to the crunch, son... you're in charge. You're my man on the spot. Alright? Make sure you get me some updates, boy!"

"Got you, boss. So what's the big mystery? Where did you get this model from?"

"I'll tell you in a mo. The girl first, I've seen her up close. Quite a dirty body on her. Nice tits, great big arse. Face alright if she'd bother to smile. She's a newbie though... total beginner, as green as they come. She won't have a clue, hardly even looked at the net before. Astonishing, but there you go. So that could cause some problems. But you never know, it might be a bonus. If she don't know where what's out there, she won't know what we shouldn't get up to, if you catch my drift. Priority... downloads. Second priority, decent stuff. So none of your namby-pamby tip-taps, if you can. Decent length and a solid spanking. Least ways, if you get the chance, cause that's not guaranteed yet."

"How far d'you want us to go then, Uncs?"

"Just use your judgement." Cyril thinks a moment. "But the girl's not coming through an agency. No contacts, not connected. So to put it bluntly, it probably won't matter if she bruises a bit."

"Oh... right," says Billy.

"Though you'd best confirm that with cousin Carmine."

"Carmine?" Billy asks.

"Your very own sweet-featured cousin. Some bird she met at aerobics class. Stunned me silent when they turned up at the studio. Don't think Carmine likes her much though. Called your lovely cousin a fucking slut, apparently. She's bringing her over in her car as we speak. But Bill... important... Carmine's instructions... let Carmine do the talking. Cause the girl doesn't know it's spanking yet."

"She don't?" Billy asks.

"Carmine's got her feeling guilty, trying to make amends. But whatever the girl did, it must pissed your cousin off badly. She was rubbing it in when I took some snaps."

"She fucked Carmine up, eh?"

"Pissed her off mightily, least ways. So like I said, take your cues from your cousin on this. And don't let the hired help get in the way. Mel's the dom though, whatever, alright? I think she'd do well. And even if Carmine's calling the shots, don't let her step in front of the camera. Cause the parents would go ape shit, Billy, and that's really something I can do without."

Once the phone's down, Billy's briefing the others. Then Malcolm and Clive start fiddling again, with cables and lights. Billy takes the ill-looking Gaz to one side, then sacks him.

"You're off the show mate... just talked to the Gaffer. Too big a fuck-up. So I should take your sick bag and piss off home. Plus, I wouldn't go looking for a cheque in the post."

Once Gaz has sloped off, Billy talks to Mel.

"You just got promoted, if you want it, girl. That wanker Gaz is history. Cyril fancies you as dom. That suit you, does it?"

Mel grins, then touches a lip with her tongue, smile growing all the time.

"My mate Carmine's bringing the new girl in. Very green, Cyril says. Only don't let that fool you, she fucked my cousin up. Green on the surface, but apparently she's a cunt inside. My cousin don't take bad to just anyone, so if she says this girl's a cow, she's probably fucking horrible. So no tears from me and Cyril if you don't hold back."

"Is that right now?"

"That's the word. What's your verdict on your part, then?"

"Dom, I think, I should quite enjoy. I've taken enough sticking myself in my time and I wouldn't mind giving it out for a change. She's a nasty piece of work, then?"

"If she fucked my gorgeous cousin up, you can do what you fucking like to her."

"Well," says Mel, "there's a turn-up. Know what, Billy? I've wondered what I'd do if this ever happened. Because trust me, I've worked with some irritating, moronic models in my time. And I've worked on what I'd like to do to them. If she's halfway to those idiots, I'll relish the chance to fuck her up."

"There's my girl. Fully on for dom, eh?"

"Most surely, sunshine."

"Knock yourself out."

***

"Oh my God. Oh my God."

Carmine has lost count of the number of times she's said this. She feels like slapping Lilly but she's driving and she can't. Carmine has geed her up and pretty much harried her into the car. Lilly's sitting in the short skirt and revealing blouse, knickers, pop-socks and semi-sensible shoes. She's sitting with her knees together, seat belt tight between her breasts, gripping her seat edge as Carmine drives to the studio at pace. It's chilly out. Carmine has a coat on and a window down. Lilly's nipples are studding her blouse.

"Oh my God," she says, "I don't know about this."

"Nonsense, you'll be fine."

"I didn't know it was real," Lilly moans.

"Of course it was real. What's the point of being brave if none of it's real?"

"God, what have I got to do? What sort of stuff have I got to do?"

"I dunno. We'll see."

"Oh my God," says Lilly. "What sorts of things though? What have you had to do?"

"I didn't have to do anything, darling. But what have I done? Oh, all sorts. What d'you think?"

Lilly moans, "I don't know what there is."

"Take a guess. What can you see me doing?"

"I can't hardly see you doing nothing!"

"Surely you've pictured me doing something, Lil."

"You might be offended."

"What might offend me?"

"I though of... sort of... blokes. With their dicks. Doing things to you."

"Did you now? What else did you think?"

"I don't know. I don't want to say."

"Brave now," says Carmine.

"I thought... I don't even want to say it... pulling your bits apart. With your fingers, you know."

"Anything else?"

"I don't know."

"Not using toys? Not fetishes... spanking?"

Lilly frowns. "Spanking? Like... somebody doing your bum with their hand?"

"More than their hand, Lil."

Lilly stares ahead. She won't look at Carmine. "Oh my God. Oh my God. Why though?" she asks.

"Why would you think? Cause it's fun," Carmine says.

"Someone doing your bum in is fun?"

"Oh God yes, immense fun. I've never had orgasms like it, Lilly."

"Orga-zums?" Lilly asks. "You can have orga-zums?"

"Orgasms. All the time. Of course."

"From spanking?" Lilly asks.

"Oh, especially from spanking. It's a well-known fact. All that warmth from your bum, it's like fire, it keeps building. That's why people do it, Lilly."

"Oh my God... I never even thought. Is that really what happens? It just thought it looks so horrible... "

"Not when it's happening to you, it's not."

Lilly suddenly pauses. "That film. That girl, with her bum all red... Oh My God, was that you?"

Carmine looks at Lilly. She thinks that was her? "Do you think it was?"

"I dunno... I weren't looking at her face, was I? Was that you? That girl's hair was different."

"I might have been wearing a wig," Carmine says.

"Oh my God, your arse... I mean bottom... God, sorry. I never even realised."

"I know you didn't. I just thought it was so obvious."

"Oh my God, I can hardly believe it! God, you've tried loads of things!"

"Oh yes, plenty," Carmine says. "You've got a lot of catching up to do."

"I don't know if I can... I'm not like you... "

"We'll be like sisters. If you do, I mean."

"Sisters?" Lilly says the word with a sense of awe.

"If we're as brave as each other, that'll makes us sisters."

Lilly falls silent. She blinks at the dashboard. Then quietly, she asks, "Carmine... why did you kiss me? Before?"

"Well... why do you think I might have kissed you?"

"I don't know," she says. "It really surprised me. Was it cause you think I'm going to do what you want?"

"Well... are you, Lilly?"

"I don't know." She sighs. "Yeah. If you really want me to. But... is it cause you, sort of, like me?"

"Of course I like you. If I didn't, I wouldn't be here, would I?"

Lilly sounds so shy. "I mean, like, is it cause you like me... you know... as more than a friend?"

"Would you like me to kiss you as more than a friend?"

Lilly's silent again.

"It's alright to say. If you don't, I mean."

"Oh no, don't think that! I mean... I suppose. I dunno. I think so."

"I might like you like that if you're really brave."

"Oh my God," says Lilly, quietly.

6: Carmine gets Lilly to the studio; Lilly signs a model release

Carmine parks in a dreary back street. Lilly walks just behind Carmine, feeling half naked in the midmorning air. She finds herself stretching to keep up with the taller girl, who leads at pace down two or three side streets, then dives down a dingy alley housing Cyril's studio. There's an old black door at the end made from slats of wood, with a grubby metal plaque which reads JBS Film. Carmine presses a little metal bell in a video entry phone panel.

They wait. Lilly sniffs. "I don't know about this," she mutters.

"Don't worry, honey."

The door starts to scrape, like a bolt's being withdrawn, then the door whines inwards on a heavy closing arm. A young man dressed in denim looks out. He meets Carmine's eyes, then peers down at Lilly. At her face first, then her chest, then lastly her skirt.

"Hey. Carmine. And this is... ?"

"Lilly," says his cousin.

He tips his head at Lilly, then moves aside and waves them in. Carmine leads. Lilly follows sheepishly. Billy eyes up her hips and legs as she walks before him.

The lights are brighter as they turn a corner, then three more pairs of eyes bore in to Lilly. Carmine moves aside and drops her bag, familiar, on a messy worktop. Lilly's left behind in the middle of the floor, not knowing where to stand. Two more men, plus a woman, eye her up.

"Oh, my," the woman says.

"That's Carmine over there," Billy says. "This lady's Lilly."

The woman steps close. She offers her hand to the worried-looking girl. "I'm Mel. Pleased to meet you."

Lilly says under her breath to the woman, "I didn't know all these people would be here."

"Just the crew dear," says the woman. "That tall feller's Malcolm, the other one's Clive."

Their eyes blink away eventually.

Carmine says, "Lilly, would you like to wait in the changing room for a mo? Just through here, hon."

Lilly does as she's asked, looking grateful.

Carmine whispers, "Five minutes, hon. Just have to find out what the score is, OK?" She closes the door, leaving Lilly alone.

Billy says, "Fucking hell, Carmine."

Carmine laughs.

"Dark horse, or what?"

"Surprised as you are. What d'you think then?"

"Of the girl or you?"

She shrugs. "Either."

"I'd give it one, yeah."

"I'll bet you would. How about the girl?"

He snorts. "Not wearing much, is she?"

"Yeah, that was me hustling her out before she was ready. Lied, said it was just round the corner, we'd got to get on, chop-chop."

"Where the fuck did you find her?"

"Picked her up at aerobics class."

"You picked her up? Oh yeah?"

Carmine shrugs. "So I wanted to get in her knickers."

Billy sniggers. "Work, did it?"

"Went off her first."

Mel has wandered close. Billy waves her in. "Carmine... Mel." he says. "She'll be dom, yeah? Cyril's sort of insisting."

Carmine says, "Well I wasn't planning to do it, Bill."

"Good job then, innit? So... know yet, does she? What her turn's supposed to be?"

Carmine shakes her head. "I've dropped hints. But no, I've still not told her."

"Be really fucking useful if she'd do it, Carm. Up shit creek, girl."

"Cyril said. I can probably twist her arm. That's the plan. For some strange reason, she thinks I'm on her side."

"And you're not?" asks Mel.

Carmine looks her in the eye. "How honest would you like me to be?"

"Honest as you like, love."

Carmine blinks. "She's never modelled. Least, not before I got her to. Ten minutes with Uncle Cyril, that was it. Just topless. Knickers up her bum crack. She's pretty fucked up. Her mum sounds like a religious nutter, probably disown the poor cow if she found out."

"All's fair in love and porn," Billy says. "Con her into taking a caning for us, will you?"

Mel asks, "And she still thinks you're her friend?"

"Completely," Carmine laughs. "That give you a problem?"

Mel shrugs. She says, "Not a problem from me, no."

"Me either," Billy says.

Carmine says, "I took that for granted."

"So she's gullible?" Mel asks.

"Not a lot going on, no."

"Super," Mel says.

"That suit you then, does it?"

Billy says, "Easy, Carmine, all on the one team. The bird though... think it's about time you told her what's up?"

"Yes, alright," Carmine says. She starts to turn away. "Only one thing though, so nobody gives the game up. She seems to think I've done a lot of modelling."

"Heard she thinks you're a right slut, Carmine."

"She did express that opinion." Carmine nods. "So it might be best if no-one disabuses her."

"So as far as she's concerned... you definitely are."

"As far as she's concerned, doing a bit of porn now and then is good for the soul. Liberating, like burning your bra. And that's why I do it, to stuff convention. Besides, everyone and his wife's doing anyway."

"They are round here, anyway."

"I also told her that being spanked gives the best orgasms ever."

Billy snorts. Mel says, "I'll believe that."

Billy says. "Best let the bird know why she's here then. Oh and Carmine... " He takes a sheaf of paper from a worktop nearby. "Get her to sign a model release, alright girl?"

***

Lilly is staring at clothes hanging up in a wardrobe. Schoolgirl outfits, police womens' uniforms, nurse gear, maid gear, the usual suspects. Her head turns quickly when Carmine enters.

"Are you alright, honey?"

Lilly nods unconvincingly.

"You're going to be brave, yes?"

"If you want me to be." The girl sounds so miserable, Carmine wants to slap her. "I think I know what I've got to do."

"Do you? Do tell, I'll tell you if you're right or not."

"It's like what you done before, isn't it?"

Carmine cocks her head.

"That thing you showed me. With your bum really red. Like, with canes and stuff."

"If it was, would you do it?"

"It is though, isn't it?"

"Well well," Carmine says. "Aren't you clever to work that out?"

Lilly just looks. "You'll like me if I do it?"

"I like you anyway, honey."

"I mean like me like... you know... "

"Aha. Like this?"

Carmine puts the papers Billy's given to her down. She puts her hands round Lilly's face. She kisses her.

"Or maybe like this?"

Carmine's hands drop and stroke Lilly's nipples. Then she cups her breasts and squeezes them.

"Or maybe like this, I wonder?"

She lets her fingers trail down Lilly's sides, all the time looking her straight in the eye. Her hands stroke over Lilly's skirt, then gripping, hoik it up. They settle down cupping her generous buttocks. The squeeze, then fingers slip inside the knickers... one at the back and one at the front.

"Oh my," she says, "where's all that growth of hair gone? Smooth as silk."

"That man said I should shave it off."

"And you took his advice?"

"I used this stuff I got in a chemist's. Cause of what he said about rashes and that."

"That shows proper initiative," Carmine says.

Her fingertips stroke Lilly's smooth pudenda. Then one probing finger slips inside. There's no resistance... Lilly is wet. Carmine kisses her once more, full-on, letting her tongue flick. A second finger follows the first down below. Lilly barely makes a sound, just a tiny squeak.

"Now you're a proper model," Carmine says. "And Billy and his friends have a film to make. Just do everything they tell you. Then afterwards... "

One more quick kiss and a trailing finger, and Carmine pulls away. Lilly stands, skirt still up, feet together and pigeon-toed.

"That girl Mel... she'll spank you, alright? Billy and the others, they'll be filming you."

Lilly nods meekly.

"They asked me to get you to sign this, hon."

She takes the release and hands it to Lilly. Lilly looks at the front of it, blankly. "What is it?" she asks.

"Just some legal gubbins, darling. There's always nonsense like this to scribble on."

Lilly sounds bemused. "An I supposed to read it?"

"It's really up to you."

Lilly just blinks.

"You sign it at the back, I should think."

"Did you have to sign one?"

"I was modelling for Billy. I've known him forever. Look, d'you want a pen?"

Lilly just seems blank. Carmine takes a pen from her purse.

"Last page, darling."

"I write my name, then?"

"Your signature."

Lilly writes her name in neat schoolgirl script. "And I've got to put the date then?"

"Yes, probably. Whatever. It's the fifteenth, honey."

"It says what's my address?'

"Does it? Better put that in then, eh?"

Lilly pens her address between the lines. Carmine's looking over her shoulder.

"Who's the witness?" Lilly asks.

"Best be me, hadn't it?"

She signs, scrawls the date, then scribbles the address of the studio below.

"All done." She flips the pages closed. "Now then, hon. What you didn't know up till now... and they didn't either... is that I've got to run for a little while. All this came up so fast and, believe me, I'd much rather stay. But I had this lunch with some friends lined up, and I really shouldn't miss it, particularly as we're sorted out here. So you be extra brave... do what everyone says. I'll be back before long!" She moves her face in, and kisses Lilly once on the lips.

Lilly looks bereft. "You've got to go?"

"It's tragic, I know. But I'll not be more than a couple of hours. I'll hop right back! Be good, my darling! Don't do anything I wouldn't do. Which is practically nothing, of course, so... well. Enjoy the experience. See you later!"

She quickly backs out of the changing room, waving once and shutting the door. Lilly looks mortified. Her skirt's still not fallen down where it should, it's still rucked up at the back. Her hand darts to her mouth. Under her breath she says, "Oh, my God."

Outside, Carmine hands Billy the model release.

"No probs?" he asks.

"She's all lined up. I stuck this address on when I witnessed... alright?"

"She know it's spanking then, girl?"

"Yep, she's going to be a good girl. Anyway, I've got to run... appointment!"

"Get out!"

"Cyril didn't ask me what I had on today! I'll be back in a couple of hours I should think. See if you can't keep it going till then!"

"Fuck, Carmine. So let's just get this straight... she's not like, your mate? Is she? If we give her, like, a good old time."

Carmine pauses. "Don't kill her, you know. But no. She isn't my mate."

"Just checking. Shame you can't stick around. Later, Carmine... "

She backs out, waving.

Malcolm and Mel both stroll up. Malcolm asks Billy, "How's this going to work, then?"

Billy watches his cousin go. He says, "You and him... the feller... if you man them two cameras, I'll do hand-held with mine. Mel, she can tell Lilly what to do. Right, darling? Whatever she says, that's what what's-her-name's got to do. So she'll more or less direct, you follow? Makes your job a bit easier, dunnit?"

"I deal with the lights and so on, though?"

"Most definitely your department, that."

Clive wanders up to the huddle as well, waiting on its edge like he's not sure if they'll let him in.

"Who decides how much she gets?"

"Who gets?" Billy asks.

"The model," Clive says. "Has she any experience at all, then?"

Billy turns his face to the man. "What does it matter what experience she's got? She's signed a release, she's up for it. Everyone's got to start somewhere, don't they? Mel here, she'll busk it. Won't you, girl?"

"Well I do know what hurts and what doesn't," she says. "From personal experience. And I'm pretty sure what'll look excellent on camera."

Clive doesn't smile, he looks sourer if anything. But he sniffs to himself and slopes away. Billy, Mel and Malcolm watch him.

"Well there you go," says Billy at last. He looks at Mel, then at Malcolm.

"I should maybe talk to the girl, eh? Sisterly chat? Change with her maybe."

"Yeah," Billy mutters.

"Sounds positive," says Malcolm. "I'll, er... shall I?"

"Lights. Whatever. Think I'll have a chat with Cyril."

They separate.

7: Mel mentors Lilly; Mel updates Billy

Lilly is sitting on an upright chair with her hands between her knees, rocking slightly. She looks up at Mel, eyes wide.

"Hello, darling," Mel says. "Aren't you cold there? You look a bit shellshocked, actually."

Lilly smiles weakly.

"Are you nervous, then? This your first time, is it? Gosh, I remember what it was like for me, I was petrified!"

"Did you have to do a spanking too?" Lilly asks.

Mel blinks. "No, modelling. You know, for a photographer. I heard you did that too. It wasn't long after though, my first spanking shoot. Oh yes, I was in quite a state. But in the end... well, I won't say it was easy-peasy, but I coped alright. I remember, some of it was such positively fun! So I'm sure you'll do fine. You might even find yourself enjoying it. It's a change from the humdrum, after all!"

Lilly tells her candidly, "I'm really scared I won't know what to do."

"Oh that's not a worry. I'll tell you all that."

Lilly's looking like a little lost puppy. "Is it you who's got to... you know... do my bum?"

"Yes," Mel says, "that's me."

"For all two hours though?"

"All two hours?" Mel asks.

"Carmine says I'm here for two hours. Before she comes back, and she said she hopes it'll still be going on by then."

"Still be going on?" Mel asks.

Lilly produces a scared little smile. "Is it all with the cane? It seems like really loads."

Melanie says quietly, "That does seem a lot."

"It is though, isn't it? Why her bum looked so red!" Lilly's face twitches like it's planning to cry.

"Oh my," says Mel.

"Oh my God," moans Lilly. "It looked really bloody hard, an' all!"

"Well... yes, it is. But we all have to do it. All us models. It's what's wanted, really."

Lilly's eyes look moist.

"Goodness," Mel says. "I tell you what though, lovely. Stand up for a moment."

Lilly stands, nervous.

"Turn around. Lift your skirt up for me."

When Lilly hesitates, Mel just takes the sides of the skirt and waggles it up.

"Have you not watched many spanking films before?"

Lilly shakes her head. "I never seen hardly nothing," she says.

"Hardly nothing? What was that?"

"I only seen this bit of one. Carmine showed me. Wiv her in it. Just this clip."

"And what was that like?"

"Oh God," Lilly says. "Her arse was just so mashed, all lumpy."

Mel sighs. She places a hand on Lilly's bottom and squeezes it gently. She says quietly, "The human bottom is very resilient. I should know, mine's taken enough in its time."

She puts her spare hand on Lilly's other cheek. She says, "I just want to do a little test, alright?" She squeezes, recups, and squeezes again. "Well well," she says, "what an absolutely perfect bottom you have. So big, but so firm."

Lilly looks hurt. She's trying to see down over her shoulder. "So big?" she whines.

Mel starts to pat a cheek. "Are we a little self-conscious of our bottom, perhaps?" The pat becomes a gentle slap. Mel watches the ripples and holds her breath. "Oh my lovely, you shouldn't be worried. Not about this one. A star is born. Looks like you were specially built to start in films like this."

Lilly's straining her head back.

"I know it sounds a lot. Two hours... It still seems a lot to me, every time I bare my behind. But if any bottom can take it, this can." She squeezes, hard, with both cupped hands, then slaps Lilly's cheeks simultaneously. "I've never seen a bottom so made for spanking. Whatever we dish out, I promise this beauty can take it, honey."

"But two hours," Lilly says. She turns to look at Mel but leaves her skirt still hitched up high.

"I think we might not spank you every moment," Mel says. She tips her head. "I'm sure there'll be time for other things. If I choose the right scenario, to give you some breaks."

"So it's not all the time?"

"You'd have to work hard between times, of course."

"I don't mind. If it's not all the cane all the time."

"A sort of... modelling scenario?"

'What's a scenario?"

"Like a little play. That we're pretending together. Maybe you're a model and you're late for a shoot. Or maybe you've got to pose... but I think we've established you don't really know what you're doing as a model. So I might pretend to be impatient. I've got to find a reason to spank you. Then, in-between, I could... give you a break... by having you pose."

"Oh," says Lilly.

"If you're posing... well I'm not spanking you, am I? Not at that moment."

"What... like I just do a position or something?"

"Something like that. Then I'll spank you for not knowing what you're doing. You know... for being slow, perhaps. Have you looked at much posing on the internet, lovely?"

"I don't know," Lilly says.

"Don't know?"

"You mean like, dirty posing? Like when Carmine's Uncle made me pull my bum cheeks apart?"

Mel dabs a tongue to her upper lip. "It might be like that."

"I just feel so guilty if look at dirty pictures."

"You don't look much at all, then?"

"I ain't got a broadband. I never even got a computer for it."

Mel shakes her head sadly. "Not looked with friends, then?"

Lilly shakes her head as well. "I wouldn't look at stuff like that with friends. I'd be scared somebody would tell."

"Yes I see," Mel says.

"Just, it wouldn't have to be all bad posing, would it?" Lilly has such a hangdog expression.

"Bad posing? Rude?" Mel just looks at her for the longest time.

"Is it though? Has it got to be rude?"

"You've never seen, have you? On the internet? It's all rude, my lovely."

"All rude?"

"You just don't know. You've never looked. Oh my dear, you're an innocent. Out of your depth."

"Oh, God," Lilly says. "Oh fuck, I'm so stupid."

"You know they're all expecting it? Carmine, Billy's Uncle, everyone out there. It's all just so standard, lovely."

Lilly's face is dissolving into upset. "Was it in that in that thing I signed?"

"You signed? What thing?"

"A model something."

"A model release?"

"I done it before. Carmine got me to do it before."

Mel asks her, "Didn't you read it?"

"Carmine just said sign it, so I thought I'd got to."

"Oh yes. We all have to."

"I asked if she done it though, she just said that bloke out there... Billy... was her mate."

"Did Carmine not read it?"

Lilly shakes her head.

"I wonder if she knows what's in it? You signed without reading any of it?"

"Was we supposed to, then? Was I supposed to read it?"

"Oh my, you've let yourself in for such a lot... "

Lilly's mouth is dry as a bone. She feels her wrist shaking.

"Please say you'll be prepared to do all this, lovely. We need you to do this."

Lilly's lower lip is trembling.

Mel says gently, "The thing is, darling, if you've signed your contract, you've agreed already."

"I can read it now. Can't I?"

"The point... what you should do... is sign it before. Once you've signed it, you've signed it."

Lilly's chin trembles. Her torso gives a silent shudder.

"Can I give you instruction with confidence, lovely? Knowing you've already signed up to do them?"

"I didn't know, I didn't know."

"I can see. I believe you. But now it's too late. That's the trouble, my love. And Billy's Uncle... well he's not a man to take breach of contract lightly. Gosh. What a pickle. I think you'll just have to... well, do it all, honey."

Lilly looks so upset.

"But don't worry, darling. It's all so common, you won't have to do things I've never done. Or Carmine, your friend, I understand she's done... well, all sorts. So all you have to really do is follow my instructions. It's just acting, really. Like I said, pretending it's a modelling assignment. Which it is, isn't it? But because it's spanking... well, I'll have to pretend to be angry with you. Although really I won't be, not underneath. But I'll have to pretend it convincingly. So anyone who watches later can believe it's real. We'll say you're a model, and you've turned up late. But all you have to do is just this, Lilly. Whatever I act like, however you're feeling... you just always do what I tell you to. Just do your level best to follow my instructions. All the way through... every thing I tell you. That's all you have to do. If it's going well, Lil... if we're getting great footage and everyone's really pleased with you... that's when it'll carry on for a little bit longer. Then Carmine can come back and see you perform. You're prepared to trust me, aren't you, lovely?"

Lilly nods, once, her hand to her mouth.

"You have to, you know. You just have to be brave. We're starting soon, we've got to start filming. It's just such a good thing you're such a sport. You're OK with this, aren't you?"

Lilly hesitates, then she just nods. Mel strokes her hair. She clasps her close and gives her a hug. "My poor, sweet girl," she says. "Be brave. I promise you this... you'll not be doing anything I haven't done a hundred times. Oh, well done, Lil. Well done, you brilliant thing! Just follow my voice. It'll all work out fine."

***

Cyril asks Billy when he calls, "She showed up with the goods then?"

"Good as her word, Uncs."

"What d'you think of the girl?"

"Who, Lilly? Well you're not going to see her on a catwalk, are you? Little short thing, isn't she? Might get a nice few reaction shots though. Funny round face, eh? First you don't think she's up to much, then you look at her again and she's not half bad. Dirty little body on her, too. Carmine had her come in half dressed, just this white shirt and a denim skirt. Enough curves for a bird twice her size, ain't she?"

"You don't think she's too awkward?"

Billy thinks for a moment. "No, I don't. Cause it's spanking, innit? That's what it's about. Take a pretty girl, strip her down and whack her arse. Humiliating, yeah? Bit of awkwardness in there, should go down a treat. Proper reactions. Genuine article."

"Your cousin's been a godsend."

"Yeah, might have a nice little partner there. Proper model scout. Come here my little darling, some unscrupulous gents await... Hang on, Mel's come out. Want me to call you back when she's filled me in?"

"Not unless it's really necessary, no. For fuck's sake, let me see a bit of this show. Just deal with it yourselves, get me some sodding updates. Whatever it takes, Billy, you're in charge. Show me what you can do. We'll catch up tomorrow."

Billy clicks his phone closed. "How's she doing?" he asks. "She playing ball?"

Mel says, "She's incredible. She hasn't a clue! She knows absolutely nothing. She's the least informed model I've ever met, and I've met some fucking stupid models. She'll believe absolutely anything. She thinks we're going to cane her for two solid hours."

"You told her that?"

"Course I didn't, she just thinks we will. She's never seen a spanking film, barely looked at the internet, seen almost no porn... nothing! She has no idea what we'll expect her to do. The only clip she's seen, Carmine showed her, and apparently the model's arse was in a horrible state. She thinks, by the way, that it was Carmine's arse. I don't think I'm being stupid here... It wouldn't be, would it?"

"No, it's a wind-up. Carmine's never done nothing like this."

"No, I didn't think so somehow. But Billy, I've been wicked in there. She said she never read the model release. Not a word, nor did Carmine apparently. I think I've got her thinking it's legally binding."

"Binding her to what?"

"That's the whole point, mate. To anything you want. She just signed some piece of paper. Say you've filed it, or you've posted it to Cyril."

"He's only at the N.E.C."

"She doesn't know that. She's not asking to see it. She just thinks whatever's in it, she's agreed to. She's so fucking clueless, it's like stealing from a baby. So long as no-one gives the game away, that contract can say whatever we like. We just make it up. Look... go and tell the others she's this cracked case or something, who just wants to do whatever as a fantasy. Don't tell them I've just conned her. All they have to know is, keep an open mind. Have you got enough for two hours in every camera? I told her if things are going well, we're keeping her on for longer. Till Carmine's back, she's expecting that."

"We've got fucking loads of stock," says Billy.

"Tell them they to let me get on with it. She's been fantasising half her life and she's just got up the courage to try it. Alright? You'd better tell them something, cause she's halfway to tears for most of the time."

Billy tells Clive and Malcolm that the girl's agreed to go fairly extreme. Malcolm is clearly not sure how to react. He starts fidgeting uncomfortably. Clive just keeps shtum, eyeing Billy through narrowed eyes.

8: Mel and Billy practice their patter; Lilly's career as a model begins

Mel goes into the changing room again, to help choose an outfit for Lilly. When they're done, she asks the girl to wait five minutes. The others will film Mel outside, then when Lilly knocks, they'll turn a camera on her door. Then Lilly's on.

Mel briefs the others. She wants the action to just run on, whatever. Just keep filming. So Malcolm picks which camera should focus on what. Clive will take Mel. Malcolm will get the master of Lilly. "I'll do a bit of hand-held," Billy says.

"He'll get in the way," Clive says to Malcolm.

"You will," Malcolm says.

"So?" says Mel. "Leave him in your shots then."

"He'll get us in," Clive says. "I'm not having my face on screen."

""I'm not that fucking stupid," Billy says. "I want the girl on screen, not your miserable mug."

"We'll just pixelate the faces if we're in a shot we want to use." Malcolm's trying to be diplomatic. "I'm not having my face in this either."

"Well I don't give a fuck," says Billy. "Leave me in if you want to go gonzo."

Mel says, "Gives me someone to chuck some lines."

She leans against a worktop at the back. She nods to Billy to lean there next to her, tells the crew to start filming. She shouts, "Two minutes, Lilly, then knock! Alright? Then wait till I tell you to come in, honey!"

Malcolm and Clive let their cameras run. Mel just sits there with the lenses pointing at her. She looks at Billy. He looks her back, laughs, then looks back down. He thinks they'll start again, but Mel just carries on sitting there. She turns to him again and says, "Amateurs."

Billy nods his head back.

"So bloody slow," says Mel. "You end up wasting so much time."

"Oh right," Billy says. "The model."

"Models are pain enough anyway. But amateurs. I've not got enough patience."

Billy looks sideways at Mel and giggles.

"And this one's the worst. She's completely clueless. One of these days I'm just going to snap."

"What, snap her elastic?"

Mel laughs now.

"Do worse than snap her arse," Billy says. "Fucking hell, have you seen the size?"

Mel laughs again. "Shall I spank it for you?"

"Don't think spanking would make a lot of difference to that one. You'd need, like, a bat or something."

"There's canes in the back. I'm not kidding, there are. There's a good big long one."

Billy looks at her then giggles again.

Mel has found herself an SLR stills camera. She reaches behind to pick it up. "Let's get her to pose a bit, like we planned. But I'll guarantee she's rubbish at it. Shall we have a bit of fun with her?"

"What... spank her if she gets it wrong?"

"I'm serious. I'll have a go. She's so green, she won't know what's wrong and what's right. I'll bet I can get her to take it. Go on... bet you."

"What's the stakes then? Who gets 'em in all night, how about that? You get her to do it, I'll buy till you fall over. Only if she blanks on you, you buy."

"Worth that, is it? We're serious... I'm going for it, am I? I spank her... "

"Spanking's nothing. You cane her."

"I cane her and you film it. Alright?"

"I'll have a go, yeah. You're evil, you."

Mel rubs her forehead. "There are bumps here, I can feel them."

They stop talking. They wait for the knock at the door.

"Fucking hell," Billy says, "she takes her time, don't she?"

Mel stares too. "Lilly," she calls, "are you coming, or what?"

In a moment they all hear a tiny knock.

Billy shakes his head, then hams it, "Did one perceive a knock, perchance? Weren't much, was it?"

They stare at the door. Nothing else happens. Then another knock... if anything, quieter than the first

Mel calls, "Lilly? Come in, lovey!"

Lilly tries to smile when she comes into the room. Mel has dressed her in a short flared skirt, white socks, schoolgirl shoes and a white, buttoned shirt, and, Mel knows, clean white knickers. Lilly's smile is paper thin though. Its edges quake and tremble. Billy lifts his camera to his eye straight away. He catches her stance then gets her face in close-up.

Billy knows his camera well. His uncle... indulgence or business plan, one or the other... let him have it when he was just sixteen, after Billy's dad was put away for aggravated. And, kid with a toy, he's used it till he's mastered it, till it's second nature. He's worked it out... hand is steady. He's as good as, if not better than, Clive.

Mel pushes off the worktop and steps up close to Lilly. Billy and the others record their whispers, with Billy, in camera, prying up close.

"I'm so glad you've come out. We do have to get on now."

Lilly doesn't know where to look. She's staring all around, at the studio, at Billy, at Clive and Malcolm's cameras.

Malcolm interrupts. "Sorry... just a quick one. The girl should look in Billy's camera. That one." He's got their attention. "But never at these two. You understand, Lilly? You can look at his camera whenever you want, but never look at ours. It's a technical thing. It'll really help. Billy can be seen in our cameras here, so he's an actor on screen. So the viewers will expect to see shots from his camera looking at you. These two back here are observers, not participants... like flies on the wall. It's like they don't really exist, understand? So far as you're concerned, just pretend you can't see them. And the same goes for you two, Mel and Billy. If you have to look this way, just don't look in these lenses. But Lilly and Mel, it's always OK to look at Billy's camera. In fact, if he's intrusive like now, it might help. Hope you didn't mind that interruption. From a technical perspective, it was necessary. As you were, then, and thanks."

"Nice one," says Billy. "Good call, yeah."

Mel takes this in. Lilly nods to Malcolm, then looks down at the floor.

Malcolm says to Clive, "Let's go hand-held as well. Fake documentary, sort of off-screen observers. Like N.Y.P.D. or Galactica."

Clive lifts his camera off its tripod, as does Malcolm. Mel wait till they're ready. Then she looks back at Lilly.

"I'm so glad you've come out, finally."

Lilly takes a moment to register that they're starting again.

"Cause the thing is," Mel says, "we've got to get on. I know it's your first time. But we can't afford to be ever so slow."

"Really sorry," Lilly says. Then looks up as if to ask if she's meant to speak. Stares straight at Malcolm's camera, then remembers she shouldn't. "Sorry," she says, "sorry."

"Look, we've got to get started. Just... come and stand here."

Lilly looks, but doesn't move. Mel touches her elbow and guides her forwards. She takes the stills camera, checks it over, makes technical adjustments and, focusing on Lilly's face, clicks to record a photograph.

***

"Right," Mel says, "hands on your head, darling."

Lilly's movements are quite hesitant. She starts to raise her arms, pauses halfway, lifts again, halts with her hands just touching her hair, her fingers not yet contacting.

Mel looks through her camera, says, "Properly together dear."

Lilly joins her fingers. Mel takes a snap. She gives Lilly small instructions... head back, hands on hips, feet together, feet apart. Lilly responds to each with a clear lack of insight into what would be required of her if they truly did want a stills model. She's slow, uncertain and has no idea what to do with the attention directed at her from four quarters.

Mel says to Billy, "Are you getting anything useful here?"

"No, dead airtime. Can you get her to move on a bit?"

"Ok," says Mel. "Right. Lovey, we've got to start seeing a bit of flesh. Take a bit of that skirt in each hand, there's a love."

Lilly does as she's asked, but keeps looking from Mel to Billy, since Billy is tracking around her.

"Just lift the skirt hon, just raise it up a bit."

Lilly is standing with her feet separated and her knees locked. She lifts the skirt up several inches.

Mel clicks. "Bit more, hon. Up more, yes." Click. "And, you know, right up."

Lilly's white pants are revealed. They are pulled up, cleanly, evenly, so that Lilly's crotch shape is showing as angles and faces reflecting different levels of brightness.

Lilly's head follows Billy with small uncertain movements as he crouches low behind her and records images of her prominent bottom with the white pants creasing evenly in a smooth curve up each buttock. Mel crouches next to him, frames up and takes another snap. Malcolm's camera registers Lilly's embarrassed head movements as she tries to work out what Mel and Billy are seeing.

"Feet apart, darling," Mel says.

Lilly steps each foot wider by an inch or two. The effect is somewhat inelegant, clump-clump.

"Yes. Bit more, lovey."

Clump.

"No, both feet darling, properly apart."

There's real hesitation, then first one foot stretches wider, then another.

"I suppose that'll do," says Mel and takes a snap. "Lean forward at the waist dear. Bend forward, that's it. Lift the skirt higher, yes."

Mel looks, moves, takes a picture, comes round to the front.

"Can you smile, baby?" Mel asks Lilly.

Lilly tries, but she can't. Her mouth stretches in the general direction, but with nervous twitching at its corners.

"Yes... not really working," Mel says to Billy.

Lilly is drifting out of her pose. Her hands, holding her skirt, have lowered, and her back has returned to a near upright position.

Mel says, "Lovey, I don't know if it was uncomfortable in that pose, but the thing is... the thing is, as a model... particularly as a beginner, dear, I'm afraid you should be staying in place unless I ask you to move. Do you follow?"

Lilly blinks at Mel. She starts to raise her skirt again.

"Yeah," Mel says. "Let's leave that for a moment. Can we see a bit of chest, dear?"

"Chest?' Lilly asks.

"Boobs darling. I want you to unbutton, what... two, do you think? No three buttons. Yeah, go on. Just, you know... "

"Unbutton?" Lilly undoes three buttons slowly, but with no sense of tease.

"Yeah, and pop... you know, over the top."

Lilly looks confused.

"Pop 'em out, dear."

Lilly says, "You mean... what... in the bra?" She's been dressed in a white brassiere by Mel in the changing room.

"No," Mel says, "look... No, just hang on,"

She steps up to Lilly, with Lilly making odd reactive movements, and, putting one hand on Lilly's left shoulder, pushes her other hand inside Lilly's blouse and scoops the breast, still in its cup, up and out, so that it rests, restrained, above the last sealed button. She swaps hands and does the same with the second breast.

"Hang on," she says, and pulls the two halves of Lilly's blouse together for a single button, which she reseals. Lilly's breasts are pushed upwards and together, making a milky white cleavage. "Alright, lift that skirt again. Both hands, go on, right up. And now, keeping it up with your elbows more or less, place your hands on your bum cheeks dear."

Lilly doesn't get this. Her skirt slips down before she's positioned her hands.

"Yeah," Mel says again, "not really working." She turns to Billy. "Think if I give her one instruction at a time?"

"Why, she not doing what you want?"

"All a bit hesitant," Mel says. She turns to Lilly. "Thing is, darling... well I know we've just started, and you're quite a new model. But I think things might go a bit faster if I set some rules. OK? Thing is, I've put you in a pose, and you moved out of it, only I hadn't asked you to. So, lovey, rule number one. Stay in pose unless I ask you to move alright? And rule number two is simple, really. If I ask you to do something, I want you to do it. Alright? So. Good. Right, you're in a position, feet apart, keep that. But now, lift your skirt. Lift it right up, dear. Yes, higher. Now bend forwards. Yes... yes, you see, you've sort of done what I asked, but only a bit. Let's try it this way. Start bending forwards, and just continue doing it till I tell you to stop. Yes? OK, go ahead and do that. Start bending. Start... yes, keep on bending, keep on, keep... God this is slow, go on, quicker, dear, and... stop! Now dear, just... without letting it fall back... let go of your skirt. Yes. Both hands, let go. OK? Good, so now, leaving that where it is... reach your hands back and place them flat on your bum. Flat dear, Christ... that means palms down, dear. Like you're grabbing your bum with your hands. OK? Ok, stop. Good. So now that you're in position dear, and we're going to take some photographs, we want you not to move. OK? Don't move. Don't move at all until I ask you to move again. OK? And that's the rule."

Mel starts to step around Lilly. She points her camera, clicks, moves, points, clicks. "Smile," she says.

Lilly tries but she feels like an idiot. Her smile doesn't feel right even to her. Billy tracks around her as well. He points his camera at her face, lifts it up over her back, down between her legs at the back to see her bra-held breasts.

Mel is at Lilly's front again. She says, "Smile, dear." She points, she clicks. "Yeah. Smile properly, dear."

Lilly tries, but she's a churning mess of insecurities. She's intensely embarrassed, there's a lad with a video camera looking up between her legs, and two other men are pointing expensive-looking cameras at her. Each time she tries to smile, she feels her mouth tremble. This is bad... she feels it... but she knows there's much, much worse to come.

"Once more. Give it a go."

She's really trying hard. She tries to smile, fails, shuts her eyes, tries again, and each time knows she's further from producing one than ever.

"Yeah," Mel says. "Not happening, is it?"

Billy tracks around to the front.

"What d'you think?" Mel asks him.

"Well she ain't smiling, is she?"

"Fuck," says Mel.

"I'm trying," says Lilly.

"Yeah. Unfortunately, trying's not doing the trick. Got to be real or nothing, hasn't it?"

"What d'you wanna do?" Billy asks Mel.

"Fuck knows," Mel says. "Looks like this session is turning into a bit of a waste of time. I can't use a model who can't smile, can I? What good's that?" To Lilly, she says, "Look, just... try once more, will you?"

Lilly tries, hard. Her mouth stretches like a real smile, but it clearly isn't one.

"Crap," says Mel. "Look, one at time, OK? Think of something sweet, something you'd really like to be doing. A really lovely present somebody gave you. I dunno... fairies at the bottom of the garden. Something, just please try and smile."

She looks Lilly right in the face and makes a partial grin to prompt her. Lilly, genuinely trying, makes a grimace in return.

"Oh bloody bollocks," says Mel. She sighs. Tilts her head. Stands, walks around to Lilly's behind, and says, "Don't move position darling, except to take your hands off your bum and... well, just let them hang down, I suppose."

Lilly does this, tentatively.

"Eyes front," Mel says. "I dunno, look at... look at the video camera. Get her looking," she says to Billy.

He parks his camera in front of Lilly's face, framing it in the lower half of his picture, looking down across her back in the upper half.

"She looking into the lens?" Mel asks.

Billy nods.

Behind Lilly, Mel lifts one hand and and measures its distance to Lilly's backside. She mimes bringing her hand down a couple of times. Then, suddenly, does so. Quite hard. There's a gasp and a grunt from Lilly.

"What did that do?" Mel asks Bill.

"What, to her face? Made her look a bit surprised."

Mel brings her hand down hard on Lilly's other cheek. Then she steps around to the side and bends to look at her face. Lilly's eyes twitch once towards Mel, then lock back into the camera lens.

"What d'you think?" Mel asks Billy. "Does her expression sort of make sense now?"

Billy nods. "Yeah," he says.

To Lilly, Mel says, "Problem is, darling, you've got a face like a slapped arse, and can't seem to make yourself look any different. So the only way to really give that a context is... well... to actually slap your arse. Do you follow?"

Lilly nods, staring uncomfortably into the lens,

"Thing is, it's quite common for models to get spanked. Like, for the video, for spanking magazines, you know, that sort of thing. So it's either that, or we can't really use you, and I'm sure you'd rather we did use you having made the effort to get here. And so far as we're concerned, having gone through all that fuss to get you here, I think I'd say we're rather keen to get at least something out of it. So I'll be... you know... taking pictures aimed at a particular spanky type of stills market, and Billy here will be trying his best to get a sort of spanking movie together, which I'm sure we can find a market for somewhere. So if you wouldn't mind being a dear about this, I'm rather requesting that you grin and bear it. Well... more like, not grin and bear it, if you see what I mean. If only you could produce that smile on demand, we'd be in an entirely different situation. But as it is... What do you say, lovely, do we have permission to spank you?"

Lilly doesn't know whether to keep on looking at Billy's camera or not. Mel puts her hand forward and places it on Lilly's jaw, then turns Lilly's head towards her own.

"Do we have permission?"

Mel prompts Lilly by nodding her own head. Lilly finally responds. Eyes moist, she makes small nods. Mel lifts her camera, points it at Lilly's face, and takes a picture to record the moment.

9: Clive gets uncomfortable; Lilly's spanking escalates

Mel says loudly to the others, "Great, let's just take two minutes, alright? Did everybody get that? Seem like a decent set-up? Bordering on the believable?"

"Looked good to me," Billy says.

"Yes, I got that, no problems," Malcolm adds from his more remote spot. "Though we're going to struggle with all the different sound levels in the edit. I was asking Clive if you always shoot without dedicated sound and he seems to think you do."

Second cameraman Clive grunts.

Malcolm asks, "Picture alright for you, Clive? Camera working OK?"

"Alright," he says.

"What, there might be a problem?"

"No, camera's fine." Clive doesn't sound enthusiastic.

Malcolm is waiting for more. "Right," he says eventually, turning away. "Good."

"So are you just going to leave the poor girl like that, or what?"

They look where he's pointing. Lilly is still bent double, hands dangling, skirt flipped up and with her in-bra breasts squeezed out over the buttons of her white blouse. Mel glances at her, then looks at Billy.

Mel bends close to the girl and says, "Stay where you are just a moment, darling, we have one or two things to discuss."

She motions Billy, Malcolm and Clive to come into a huddle.

"I have a sort of idea," Mel says. "Though I suppose this is out of my control if I'm outvoted. The thing is this, though, and please don't jump down my throat. I've come across some know-nothing models in my time, but this one takes the biscuit. She's extraordinarily clueless. And I don't know how anyone else feels, but I, for one, don't mind exploiting it."

"Like how?" Billy asks.

"I just think we can squeeze a lot more out of the situation than a standard spanking shoot. I mean, look at her. She's there on her own now, still in that ridiculous pose. Now if I were to tell her, for instance, that she has to stay in that pose for continuity reasons, then the poor girl is not going to know any different, is she?"

"And just how would that benefit the production?" Malcolm asks.

"Well you're already doing a fly-on-the-wall thing, as you pointed out before. Which means there's this documentary-style thing going on. I'm just thinking... not very P.C. this, obviously... but I think we can exploit the silly cow for comedic reasons. You know, say we keep filming her, surreptitiously, between these apparently real takes. Say we were to be filming this conversation, or a similar one between me and Billy, with her in the background, in that ludicrous pose."

"Just rip the piss out of her," Billy says. "Gets my vote, yeah."

"What, just exploit that poor girl's ignorance?" This is Clive. "Isn't that just... sick? I mean, listen to yourselves."

Mel sighs. "We're exploiting her anyway."

"But the comedy you're talking about is you and the audience laughing at her. It's sick. She has no choice in that, does she?"

"Aren't you exploiting me when I'm getting my arse walloped with a cane? I've never seen you have a problem filming that. What's the difference?"

"The difference is," Clive says, "you know what's what. You choose to be there. She's got no choice."

"I didn't see anyone strong-arm her in."

"You said it yourself, she's ignorant. You're setting her up for the punters... you... whoever, to laugh at her." Clive turns to Malcolm, "Do you really think that's right? You're the supposed director on this thing."

Billy jumps in. "She's here so we can do her with a big fat cane, then stick it up on the internet. We are exploiting her anyway. I think Mel's thing sounds fucking brilliant."

Clive ignores him and stares at Malcolm, who seems distinctly uncomfortable. "Well... " he says.

"Well what?" Billy asks.

"Well it does bring up some ethical questions. Is it right to exploit the poor thing any more than she's being exploited already?"

Billy says, "How about you think about it this way, son. Cyril, right? He's close to not having any uploads to release. He's out of material. And here we've got this falling-over easy chance to get him more uploads than he's dreamed of from a single shoot... " He measures a length between his fingers. "Here's what it is. We can either get him this much. Or... " He doubles the length. "This much. So what's he gonna be happiest with, a director who gets him an alright bunch of uploads, or this clever bloke who for the same budget, gets him twice as much? Who's he gonna want to use next time? Who might he even be tempted to give a bit of a bonus to?"

"I do see your point," Malcolm says. "Quite."

"They've always been exploited, models like her. Par for the fucking course, innit?"

"Yes. I suppose they have. I'm... well." He looks sheepishly at Clive. "I must say, I'm inclined to throw my hat in the ring with the others. I mean, I do admit that it does seem rather cruel. In a way. But it's cruel already, isn't it? You must have worked on dozens of these shoots."

"Not that many," Clive says.

"Well... several, anyway. And... are they not always about causing pain to some poor young lady and... you know... extracting entertainment from it? I'm sure there's always an inevitable element of schadenfreude for the observer. Are you not frequently being invited to laugh at her in these things? To get a thrill from what she's being made to suffer? This is surely just a qualitative extension of that."

"It's still fucking sick," Clive says.

"But then, by the same token, so are all those shoots you've filmed in the past. The whole genre must be sick from your perspective. Though apparently, it's not stopped you working in it up till now."

Clive looks furious. He mutters, "Doesn't mean I have to agree with it."

Billy says quietly, "If you don't agree, you can always fuck off." To Malcolm, he says, "Nice one mate."

They meeting breaks up. Mel watches Malcolm go. She says to herself, "An inevitable element of schadenfreude?"

Clive, outvoted, takes his camera up once more. Malcolm gets him to set it temporarily on a tripod and train it on Lilly. Malcolm checks the stock situation with Billy... if there's to be more filming, he needs to know if there will be enough tape. Billy shows him the stock cupboard. There's enough spare tape for all three cameras to film for a week.

"Cyril scored himself a little deal," Billy says.

"Great. Sets my mind at rest," Malcolm says.

"You know your stuff then, don't you?"

"Though I've never worked on a production like this."

"Don't feel sorry for the girl, then?"

"Of course I do," Malcolm says. "But actors, actresses, the talent... squeezing a performance out of them isn't always easy. You have to be pretty ruthless to be a director, particularly in any kind of drama. If an actor can't or won't come up with a performance, you just have to do whatever's necessary to drag it out of them. Cajole them, flatter them, shock them, shout at them, threaten to sack them, play emotional tricks... anything that will let you move on. This is a different set-up, but there are parallels. If we do what Mel suggests and exploit the poor girl... well, that produces a better situation for the production as a whole, for your boss, for everyone else but the girl I suppose. I mean, I've not been asked to make too many decisions of this kind in my time. But I was rather swayed by your bonus footage argument. A second documentary level to the drama. I mean, don't kill the poor kid or anything, I wouldn't condone permanent damage being done. But, you know, from the production's point of view, a compliant star is all to the good. I'd have killed for the odd actor willing to put up with indignities like that."

***

Mel is close to Lilly. It's Clive who's recording their quiet conversation, in a shot with both their faces in screen.

"Thing is, darling," Mel is saying, "on the more expensive productions, continuity's not such a problem. They have people whose job it is to mark out the actresses' positions. They even have what's known as stand-ins, who take over from the actresses between shots, and hold their positions till the crew are ready to go on again. But even there... and Malcolm will tell you this if you ask him... everyone's days are very long and gruelling. If they're doing a water scene, they have to hang around in cold water tanks all bloody day, for days on end. Seriously. They've got to work in hot situations, in smelly conditions, in dangerous situations. It looks glamourous to an outsider maybe, but they work bloody hard for their money."

Malcolm is close to being set up again. Billy has swapped out his camera battery and is charging his the one. He comes close again.

"So you see, lovely, having to hang about here between shots to maintain the continuity is... well, a little tough on you perhaps, but from our point of view it's terrifically useful. Otherwise we'd probably have to go back and film everything we've already filmed. To make sure we get the edit right, you follow? And I'm not sure any of us want to do that again. Thing is, we've got to get this production in the can, as they say, and we've such a lot to get through. So... well, just brilliant, thanks for being such a trouper. Though do bear in mind you'll have to do this sort of thing... well, rather a lot throughout the production. It's just terribly important for us. OK? Good girl."

"Are we ready to carry on?" Malcolm asks, even though he's already been filming. He gets three nods back... Lilly just twitches her head towards him. "Back in positions, everyone," Malcolm calls.

Billy shifts around to the front, to point his camera at Lilly's face. Mel picks up her stills camera and returns to Lilly's side. She says to Lilly, "Look here. Smile!"

Lilly tries. Mel takes a photo.

"Right," she says. "What I want you to do is... staying in position, yes? Reach behind you and pull your knickers to your knees."

Lilly looks shocked. Everyone's suddenly paying very close attention. She's started to reach back, but has sudden vertigo at the precipice she's being asked to step into. Her mother's morals, her brother's reprobation, rear their virtual heads. She stops with her hands barely touching her pants.

Mel looks on. She smiles, and leans close. Three cameras can see her speaking to Lilly. "Thing is, darling," she says, "we have a little problem here. I've asked you to do something. Well... really I've told you to do it. And what did I say before? I said we had some simple rules to make out lives easier. The first rule is, if I ask you to do something... really, of course, I'm telling you to do it... your job is simply to do it, remember? Because each time you don't, you're causing us a problem. Slowing us down, giving us editing problems, that sort of thing. So I think you need some incentive. How about if I tell you to do the odd thing, and if I think it's taking you too long, I'll spank you? Sound like something that might help? And, you know, for the purposes of practice, we'll have you do the actions that you would been doing had this shoot been working properly in the first place. Sound fair enough, lovely? So, when I tell you... move immediately, alright?"

She steps behind Lilly. Malcolm moves to get a better shot, Billy looks at Lilly's face and body from below, even Clive's camera seems interested in the proceedings.

Mel says, "Keeping your general position, lovely... pull your knickers to your knees. Now."

Lilly's hands twitch and move back. She's fumbling for the sides. Then three sharp slaps are landing on her right cheek. Lilly's hands jerk away.

"Hands down as before," Mel says, "and let's try again. OK? Keeping in your general position... put your hands on your breast!"

Lilly is reaching back for her knickers, has even grabbed and dragged a little, when she registers the altered instruction. And as she redirects her limbs, Mel is smacking her other cheek.

"Hands back to the start, quickly," Mel orders.

She notices that Billy has taken his camera around to see Lilly's behind.

"Hang on, stay there for just one second my darling." Mel says and strolls to the back of the room. She returns carrying a bamboo cane. It's long, half as long again as standard canes, with a straight handle at one end made from closely wrapped black insulating tape. "Think I might be getting in the way of the camera," she says as explanation. "Also, you know... added incentive?"

She flexes the cane. Lilly is trying to see behind her without moving too far out of position. Mel takes the cane and touches it to Lilly's knickers. She saws it slowly against her cheeks.

"Are you ready?" Mel asks. When I say, "now," pull your knickers to your knees. Now!"

Lilly's hands scramble back and, grabbing the first piece of cloth they touch, yank down her knickers. But her scrambling arms knock her skirt backwards. It falls across her just-revealed cheeks, just above the skewed white pants.

Mel tuts. "Well well," she says, and cracks the cane in against Lilly's arse. The girl grunts. She looks involuntarily at Clive and Malcolm.

"Alright, pull those things back up."

She doesn't move at first, the shock of the first stroke preventing her from registering the new instruction. Mel doesn't hesitate. She flicks the cane once, then a second time, into the skirt near the base of Lilly's buttocks. The skirt rim twists. Lilly has started to move, and drags her knickers up from her knees. They catch the skirt and pull it unevenly upwards, so that half of her buttocks are covered by skirt, the other half by just white pants. Mel makes a humming sound and saws her cane against the girl's backside.

She says, "Hands on your head, please."

This time there's just a slight hesitation, but Mel still flicks the cane in, landing it mostly over the hanging skirt.

"Better," she says. "Now, lovely, stand up straight." But she hasn't given the instruction clearly, and the final word just drops off as "stray... "

Lilly's head turns to try and catch it. Mel pauses a moment, then lands the cane hard across white pants and grey skirt cloth. There's a partial straightening on Lilly's part. Mel lands the cane twice more before Lilly jerks upright, moaning, "I didn't hear!"

"Oh, didn't you?" Mel asks.

"No!" Lilly moans.

Mel punctuates her next words with strong cracks of the cane. "Well, that's (!) for not (!) listening (!) properly (!)"

Lilly's hands shoot behind her protectively. The fourth crack of the cane catches a knuckle. Lilly hisses and hugs the hand between breast and upper arm. She shoots a hurt look towards Mel.

Mel says, without blinking, "Hitting that was unintentional, lovely. Show me."

Lilly holds a trembling hand out to her tormentor.

"But interfering is really not allowed. Remember the rule? Don't move unless you're told to move. If you do that again, I won't hesitate... I'll just hit it again, and next time I'll do it deliberately."

Lilly's face looks stung at the callous severity being shown to her. She looks to the others... to Billy, who like a vulture smelling misery is zeroing in on her mortified expression, then to Clive, who just keeps his head down in his viewfinder, and lastly to Malcolm, who blinks straight back at her, his expression unreadable. Finding no sympathy, she looks back at Mel with the same hurt face, nursing her sore knuckle in her other hand.

10: Mel tells Lilly the modelling code; Lilly's turn on the job continues

"Right," Mel says to the room in general, "sorry, just want to talk to the model for a moment. Don't know if you need to move position or anything, you lot, but now might be a good moment."

Billy backs off a little way but keeps recording. Malcolm has a quiet word with Clive, but mostly he's telling him to keep recording too.

Mel comes in close to Lilly. "Listen," she says, "I could see you feeling hard done by just now. Hang on, lovely, stay in position, remember the continuity thing, OK? Anyway. I have to tell you that it's really not personal. See it's the difference between me acting, then, and me now, you know, just giving you advice. It's my job, I have to take on a character, that's just the way it is. These things are harsh. Because, my love, it's got to look right. The viewers... the people who ought to be buying this product... have generally seen lots and lots of similar products before, and they're simply expecting that degree of severity, because that's what they see all the time, you follow? It's ot personal, it's just the industry.

"But within that... really... genuinely... I do need you to do what I tell you to do. So don't put your hands in the way or you'll just get them clipped. Hurts like buggery, doesn't it? I know what it's like, it's happened to me enough times, I promise. But I've got to tell you, it happens an awful lot less now than it used to, because I've learned to do just what's expected. There are no ifs or buts or maybes in this, it's a hard and fast rule. If I tell you to do something, you really have to just bite the bullet and do the bloody thing. OK? Don't think about it, lovey. Don't hesitate. Whatever it is, you've got to just get on and do it!

"And baby, listen to me... you have to do it sharpish... that's just good practice, that's a model's responsibility. Like when I told you to pull down your knickers? Remember? And by the by lovely, as a model that'll be the least of your worries. But when I told you to do it, I expected you to do it. Not do it once you'd thought about it... not do it in a minute, when it took your fancy. Do it means, bloody well do it!" She snaps her fingers. "Like that! I mean, generally in a modelling situation, the photographer will be paying for your services. He's paying you, yes? You're costing him real money, just as you're costing us money now, and at a rate quite a lot higher than minimum wage, thanks very much. So that photographer is going to need you to respond quickly, just as we do, because not everything he tries is going to work. He may take dozens of pictures before he gets that perfect one, the one where the lighting is right, where the pose is just-so, where he's found that brilliant angle that makes everything look so sexy. That's why he need you to listen to the order... " She snaps. "And carry it out. Then, as I keep saying over and over, once in position, don't move unless he tells you to move. Even if he does something absurd like he goes away to make a cup of tea, or to phone his mum, you, as a professional model, do not move till he tells you you can move. It's into-the-pose, hold-the-pose, into-new-pose, hold-new-pose. Yes? Like that, again and again, for the entire session, like clockwork, without a pause, unless he gives you specific leave to relax. That's just your bloody job as a model. And when you're posing, don't start asking him questions. Don't get in his way, just, for God's sake, do what he tells you! And, lovely, even if he sound like he's asking you to do something, even asking your permission to ask you to do it... he's really telling you to do it. OK? That's just what he has a right to expect from you as his paid model. You pay him, it's a different matter, but he pays you, you do what he wants! He pays, you do, you pay, he do, yes? He pays, you do you do you do, every single time, you always, always, do what he wants. Because you're not seeing what he's seeing through his lens. You agree the parameters of the job beforehand, as we have in there, then you bloody well perform right up to the absolute limits of those parameters! OK? No questions, no arguments, no ifs, buts, ands or maybes. It's your job to do the work he's paying you for.

"And lovely, look... we're on a spanking film, yes? Now, it sounds a bit ridiculous to me to feel I have to say this... but spanking means spanking. Good, proper, hard and long. So don't act all offended when you really get spanked, OK? If I cane you, I'm caning you because I'm supposed to cane you, because it's a spanking film, and in spanking films, the girls who are supposed to get caned, really do get caned. The cane, or whatever else they're using, comes down, hard, on the model's nether regions, again and again and again, for as long as it takes to get whatever the film crew have to get to make up that precious spanking film they've all been planning so hard and so long for. OK? When I'm in your position darling, I really do get caned. Really, properly, caned, with a long, hard, whippy cane. OK? That's why I'm caning you today. Not as a vendetta. Not because I don't like you... and I really do, by the way, I think you have great potential as a spanking model... but because it's necessary to get the bloody job done! I've got to cane you, I've got to seem mean and spiteful and cruel and vindictive. It's just my job, like taking all that punishment is yours, like doing everything I tell you to do, every time, to the letter is yours.

"Right, very good, and... don't move, darling, remember the continuity. Now, one final thing. I know it may seem, from your perspective, like we've just started. So far as you're concerned, I suppose we have... but on any production there will always, inevitably, be long and painful delays. We've had horrendous delays on this one already, even though you've not been around to see them. We're having a pretty long delay now, which I'm having to spend explaining the bloody basics to you in. But the truth is this, honey... the model before you just never turned up. The poor cow will probably suffer for it later, like I hinted to you in the other room. You know... suing her, and suchlike. But there it is... we've been horribly delayed already today. And lovely, that is precisely why I need you to react extra quickly for us. You've got to move like greased lightning so we can get through all the bloody work, all this work that we've barely begun. And I've got to tell you, love, that even if it may seem to you like you're going fast, to us it feels like you're swimming through fucking syrup. Honestly. Lovely, you're just so... so slow! So we're starting to get to the stage where I'll have to take some extra measures to speed things up. I'll give you one more chance... I'll try you out with a few more instructions just as soon as we start up again, to see if any of this has sunk in yet. But, darling, if I find then that you're still not reacting quickly enough... you know, just not getting into the poses quickly enough, or not staying in position, or not understanding my instructions properly... then I'm terribly sorry, but I'm just going to have to start posing you by hand. I'll have to move you from position to position myself. Understand? And you see the problem with that is, because it's spanking, I'll probably have to make it look really rather rough and heartless, just to keep what I'm doing in context with all the rest of the bloody thing. And I'm positive neither of us wants that to happen, do we? Me pushing and pulling you about like that. But if you're still hesitating and going just... so, so slowly... well it's the only option left to me. Because if I fail to take you in hand, we'll never get anything done and this poor bloody crew will never get home. We'll be here all night, won't we? I'm terribly sorry darling... harsh as it may seem, that's just the way it is... "

They've all been recording every word, catching Lilly's face, her stiff pose, the looks of shame and dread around her eyes. Clive just stares, red-faced, into his eyecup. Billy's erection makes him move oddly. And Malcolm is shaking his head to himself... this is definitely different to corporate work.

"Everybody back in position," he calls. "Lilly, you've done well, just keep holding till Mel starts up again. Then... you know... do what she tells you and we'll all be back in the swing in no time."

***

Mel goes back to her former position, as much as she can be bothered to recall it.

"Rolling!" Malcolm says.

Mel walks around Lilly. She has the cane in one hand, the camera in the other. She goes behind, looks at Lilly's one white cheek and one skirt-covered one. She says, "Take your knickers down." It's quiet... just said.

But Lilly reacts instantly. She grabs her pants, yanks them to her knees. They fall further, catching on a calf lopsidedly. The skirt drops over her hips.

"Lift the skirt up, high."

Lilly grabs at the rim of her skirt on either side and lifts it high. She's standing nearly upright. Her knees turn in together though her feet are apart. Her hands are holding her skirt high up at the sides, parallel to her breasts. Which, still in the bra, are pushed together over the high-buttoned blouse, white cleavage lifting and dipping as she quickly breathes.

For the first time, she's exposed from the waist down in public. She has a slim waist... at least, her waist to hip ratio is dramatically wide. Her quick-sloping hips flow down at the back in twin pear shapes to her globular cheeks with their prominent in-curve to her thighs. At the front, her belly slopes in a convex curve before rising in a saddle towards her pudenda. This is like the prow of a tiny boat, turned upside down then pointed to the ground. Labial lips can be seen between her legs, a miniature keel. The skin surface is white and smooth as silk. She's not just shaved... she's crisply depilated. Billy dips his camera low in front of her. He continues forward, pushing it between her knees then reaching around with a free hand and lifting it out the other side to study those impressive cheeks.

Mel says, "Tuck the front of your skirt in under your bra."

Lilly takes moments to work this out. Mel slides her cane in across Lilly's buttocks. Lilly has poked the skirt in, but not far enough. It drops again under its own weight. Mel flicks her cane back and clips it down sharply. Lilly's buttocks are shocked, beneath the falling skirt, in a wave which reverberates out and back.

"Tuck it in again."

Lilly is scrabbling, pulling up the skirt front, stuffing it in place. Mel strikes again, this time on top of the skirt as it still hangs part way over Lilly's buttocks. This drags the skirt from Lilly's fingers. As she scrabbles again, Mel pulls back and whacks the middle of Lilly's skirt. Lilly pulls up once more and stuffs the rim in between her breasts and the top button of the blouse. She keeps on stuffing, pulling more material out of the way. Mel lands a quick-flicked stroke on naked skin.

"Hands on your head, lovely."

Lilly's hands shoot upwards.

"And elbows out."

She's not so sure about this. Mel reaches in and pushes one elbow back.

"Legs further apart."

Lilly hesitates, looks, then stumbles one foot sideways. Her dropped white pants stretch. She clunks the other foot wider too, stretching them further, but not before Mel has clipped her again.

"Bend forward," Mel says.

Lilly hesitates once more, then tips her torso thirty degrees. Mel steps forward. She places her cane hand in the small of Lilly's back and pushes. Lilly tips further. Billy brings his camera up to see what's been revealed. Mel lets him take his time. He moves it between her legs, then pulls back and lifts it over. He goes fully wide on Lilly's broad behind. He looks down over the top of her back, drops beside her to record her hanging breasts, then looks at her face, close-up and intrusive.

Mel says quietly, "Pull up your panties."

It takes several seconds for Lilly to react... she's being distressed by proximity of the camera. Her attention is snatched away by pain striping across both cheeks and curling around her haunch.

"Pull up your panties." Mel's voice is higher, more insistent.

Lilly's head looks down and she's grabbing, pulling up. They're at her knees when the next stroke bites, fully up when the third flicks in. They've settled loosely, not quite tight.

Mel says, "Take your panties right off. Now."

Lilly's moving again, but she's so panicked, she gets them tied up around a foot. She's bent double, trying to work them off, staggering and stumbling as Mel sings, "Quickly!" and flicks the cane in repeatedly. It's not that hard, but it's being capricious, tip flicking from spot to spot. Lilly's struggling to get the pants over her second foot, but the whipping is tipping her off-balance and adding to her panic. She stumps and clumps and nearly trips up before she has them in her hand.

Mel steps close up and lays a hand on Lilly's right cheek. She says, punctuating the words with slaps, "That's just... not... fast... enough."

"I can't go any faster," Lilly whines.

Mel slips her head close to Lilly's ear. "Not true," she says. "Now this time when you pull them on, make sure they end up tight!"

She doesn't recognise this as a new instruction till Mel steps back.

"Come on!" she's singing.

The cane snaps into Lilly's broad behind repeatedly, sending shocks through the girl as she tries to orient the crumpled knickers and manhandle one pants leg at a time over clumpy heels. She's hopping and staggering off-balance, breasts shivering, reddening backside thrumming with shock waves.

Mel calls out in a high-pitched, schoolteacherly monotone, "Wrong way round! Back to front!"

The bent-over girl has to stop, mid-pull, look at the knickers halfway up her legs, then try to take them off again. This requires such concentration through the sensations of Mel doubling the speed of her cane flicks, that she's forced to stop dead still at her most bent and vulnerable, gripping fingers touching the floor on either side of first one foot, then another, before standing nearly upright to try and find, with blurring eyes, the correct orientation for the undergarment. Mel now flicks her cane low into the overhang of Lilly's full cheeks, knocking them upwards. It takes several seconds for Lilly's trembling hands to find the label and work it to the back. The moment she has it, she's bending again, kicking a foot through a hole. Mel lands an extra hard cane stroke as she lifts her second foot. Lilly pulls upwards, but the pants have snagged her heel. She lifts the foot and tries, three times and extra clumsy, to kick up the heel and land it inside the stretched knickers. She has to ground her foot again, crouch double, and waste painful seconds working the pants over the heel as Mel wallops her with the cane. Then Lilly is pulling up, straightening, with rucked-up material rising up thighs and snapping over buttocks. A final cane stroke whips in. Lilly releases the pants in panic. She stands there, not quite fully upright, twitching lest another stroke falls, trying to see over her shoulder through wide, panicked eyes like a spooked and stall-trapped pony.

Mel steps forward and says quietly in her ear, "Have you... any idea... how long that took you?" She steps away for a moment and places the camera on a worktop, then returning, says, "Something that should have taken you no more than a moment took you a minute and a half. And you didn't even get it right."

"They're on the right way round, they are," Lilly pleads.

"I gave you an instruction to pull them up tight. Remember?"

Me takes the sides of the pants, then with sudden violence, yanks them upwards. For a very brief moment, the girl is partly lifted.

"You're clumsy and inaccurate. You can barely follow an instruction. And you're... desperately slow!"

Mel just takes her elbow. It's quite a rough grip, her hand's grabbed it hard, and now she's leading her. Lilly's feet move involuntarily, up to a wall.

"Go on, bend over."

Billy tracks this with his camera. Mel pulls back on the arm. Lilly's feet look clumsy, clunky, she's frightened and stressed.

Mel bends her over. She does this by gripping Lilly's hips first and pulling her backwards, then pressing on her head. The girl bends.

"Touch your toes!"

Lilly's arms drop, dangling loose towards the floor. Her feet just stop randomly, skew-if, both pointing the same way, away from the line of her body. Mel takes one leg and drags it sideways. She slaps the small of Lilly's back saying, "Bend your knees." Lilly does this. Mel takes a thigh and drags that, too, sideways. Her hand pushes Lilly's head down further. Then with all the manhandling, lilly's skirt pulls loose from its purchase between her breasts and her blouse, and slips back in place.

"You just can't get it right, can you?"

The cane in Mel's her hand flexes, then pulls back and suddenly lands. Lilly's like a rag doll, arms dangling limp and pathetic.

Billy walks closer and zooms in on her arse. He's been exposed to spanking material for years, and he knows what he likes. He doesn't like productions where the girls just get tapped. And he doesn't go for models who are finding it funny, or even getting off on it, or just doing it for the money. It's not P.C. what he likes, not a bit. He likes the girls looking vulnerable. He likes them looking stressed. He loves those rare productions where the girls are really frightened. He likes them upset and out of their depth. But most of all, he hates it when the fucking thing stops. If you've got a good set-up, milk it, he thinks. They always seem to stop just when they're really getting good. When the girl starts crying. For Christ's sake, you're trying to make them suffer, make them cry! Why stop when they actually start to suffer for proper?

He steps back. Goes wider. Mel cracks the cane in over the top of Lilly's skirt, then thumps it in again, quickly. It's the length of the cane that's doing it, he can see... the longer the cane, the easier it is to get velocity. Mel connects lower, cracking in just below Lilly's skirt, though the skirt spins and hides it. Lilly lets out this slow, prolonged groan. Billy know from her reaction that it was a killer. He's laughing inside. The girl puts a hand back to clasp it to the pain. Mel yanks it roughly, pushes on her head again, then pulls her hips to make her walk backwards, turns her, steps back and cracks in the cane once more.

She's on a roll, she flicks one in higher, moving the aim of the tip about. Then she whacks one in so hard, it makes Lilly stagger forwards. Mel just leaves her where she ends and takes fresh aim. Poor Lilly tries to look behind, to see what's coming, but she's still not interfering, she doesn't act to defend herself. Mel smacks in the cane, Lilly staggers, Billy records.

11: Clive's objections; Billy calls Kinks

"Cut!"

It's come from the back of the room. Mel turns and glares at Malcolm, but he's staring in turn at Clive.

Mel says, "Why? What the fuck's happened?"

Clive says to Mel, "Just step aside and look at yourself."

"Do what?" says Mel.

"Tell the girl to get up. You should be ashamed."

Mel looks behind. She says, "Lovely, stay down."

The girl, who's halfway up, hesitates.

"Stay exactly as you are. I'll sort this out."

She's walking to where Clive and Malcolm are holding their cameras. Clive has turned his off, Malcolm seems uncertain. Billy steps behind Lilly for a close-up of her face as she hesitates. He's also getting Mel, Malcolm and a sour-looking Clive.

"What the hell is your problem?" Mel asks the cameraman.

"I told him, it's too much. It's too hard, you're hurting her."

"Jesus," says Mel. To Malcolm, "Who's he to tell you?"

"He did say something." Malcolm shrugs. "To be honest, I ignored it, you were clearly in the swing."

Clive gives him a filthy look. "Anyone can see it's too hard," he says.

"Decent footage coming in. Do we have to debate this?"

Mel asks Malcolm quietly. "Should the flunky tell the boss what is or isn't too hard?"

Malcolm blinks at Clive, then Billy. "Well I don't really know. Is it too hard?"

Billy's coming forward. "Looks alright through here," he says.

"She's just a fucking kid," Clive says. "I just think it's too hard. I've seen more of these shoots than any of you."

"Please keep you voice down," Malcolm says, "or the talent will hear."

Clive says, "What fucking talent? She's an ignorant kid."

"I said quiet," says Malcolm.

Clive's look burns but he lowers his voice. "She's just some bloody kid who doesn't know anything."

"Have you taken a caning?" Mel asks Clive.

"No of course I bloody haven't. I've seen enough though."

"Well I fucking have. So hard it's split the skin on my arse and left me bleeding. And that, I guarantee, won't happen to her."

"What, just cause you're not making her bleed, you're not being hard?"

"She should know," Malcolm says.

"It's just not bloody right," Clive says. "The way you're pushing her about like that."

Behind the group, Lilly is holding, bent and awkward pose. She's look over, but she can't quite hear. She flexes her knees. She's trying to make the pain go away by stretching the skin. The panties, where they've been pulled up hard, are cutting in. She's hoping the flexing will loosen them too.

Malcolm says, "Your Uncle's the boss, Billy. What do you say? "

Clive tuts at him.

Billy's walked around the group, his camera held in one lowered hand. He's pretty sure Lilly is visible in it, and Mel as well. He notices Malcolm's camera is on and pointing at him, just as his points at Lilly. "Nah, not too hard, that," he says. "Seen plenty shoots harder. Try the European stuff."

"This isn't bloody Europe," clive says

"I think you'll find it is," says Malcolm.

"That German market though," goes Billy, "American, Czech, it's all harder than that. Besides, she knows what she's in for, don't she?"

"Does she? Really?"

"Course she does, what d'you think all the jawing and stuff's been about? You want to complain mate, complain to Cyril in your own fucking time."

Clive looks really angry. He says to Malcolm, "Do you really think it's right to put decisions like this in the hands of a boy?"

"I could call him now though," Billy says, holding up his phone with a grin.

"I think we should all just take a breather," says Malcolm. "Alright, Clive? And then... well. I mean, we still have more to film I should think. I mean it strikes me that we're not about to come to the end."

"God's sake," says Clive. "Why the hell did Cyril put you in charge? Norman should have told him, for Christ's sake. Use me."

There's a telling silence. Mel tips her head, "Is it you should be directing?"

Billy laughs to himself. Malcolm flattens his lips. Then Clive's turning crimson.

Malcolm says to Clive, "Let's fix up the lights so they catch the model properly. She's moved away from center and they ought to drop down."

He steps quietly away. Clive clamps his jaw. He stares at Billy, then stomps away.

Billy says to Mel, "What a fucking wanker."

"A sulky one now." She checks to see that Lilly is in place, then says, "What do you make of the content we're getting?"

"It is choice," he says, "wicked. You think you can carry on doing her like that?"

"Doing her?" Mel laughs. "Is that how you see it?"

"Doing her dirty. You should see the poor little blessing's face."

"Not feeling sorry for the talent then?"

Billy looks. "Don't be daft, course I ain't. Some cow who fucked up my lovely cousin?"

"So I'm not too rough? How far do you think I should take it, then?"

"Far as you fucking like, my love."

"I'm not pushing her too hard?" She raises an eyebrow. "Not too much humiliation?"

Billy just laughs. "Not nearly enough, not nearly enough. Which is making me think. Might put in a phone call to a like-minded friend. Take five, do you mind?" He nods towards Clive. "Might help solve a little problem."

***

Billy slips into the models' changing room and makes the call. It's to his mate Kinks. He's known Kinks for years now, since secondary school. Billy is into what his uncle produces partly because of Kinks. Billy and Kinks used to sit in Kinks' room and hunt for dodgy websites, made possible because Kinks' mum never came into his room and because Kinks knew far more technical tricks to cover their tracks than the rest of his family ever would. Kinks showed Billy all kinds of things they weren't supposed to know was out there. Weird sites, normal sites, straight porn, kinky porn. Billy's pretty sure that what Kinks likes best is bondage. He didn't try to hide his enthusiasm the first time he showed Billy a girl restrained and wearing a ballgag, and he especially seemed to relish her tight-bound breasts turning purple.

"Be fucking great that, wouldn't it? You could keep her in a cupboard and bring her out when you fancied a fiddle. Then if she got on your tits, you could just plonk in the gob stopper back and hang her back in the toy cupboard."

But the fun was limited... they didn't have credit cards to get them in these great looking sites. Then when his dad got banged up, and Billy looked like he was heading the same way, Billy's uncle took charge of him. Billy sussed it out pretty quickly... his uncle had a site like the ones he'd browsed with Kinks. He told his uncle he'd sussed it out too, and his uncle, not prone to dissembling, just shrugged and told him, "It's a business, boy. Whatever you might think, there's money in it."

Billy told Kinks, though his uncle wasn't keen on any more junior fans at the time. Billy had him over at weekends anyway, and showed him uncut footage from previous productions that he'd found. Quite possibly filmed by Clive's own sweaty hand. Kinks even had a go at editing some footage, since Billy had been taught the basics by his uncle. They called their short production, "Dirty birds get some stick," and edited it to music. All the best impacts, over and over. Kinks had a particular eye for out-takes with the model looking like a right prat, and cut those in too. They used comments like:

"Fuck me, see that one?"

"Christ almighty, what a state... "

"What a sorry tit you look, my lovely."

And the frequent, "Go on my son, do her harder!"

Their enthusiasm spilled out into their edit... they infected each other with ungenerous thoughts, so that Billy just found it normal to laugh at the models by now. Images from spanking and bondage material made up some of his earliest sexual thrills. He'd shown the odd clip to other mates, with mixed reactions, but Kinks was special... they both knew they loved it. Billy worked with his uncle now, and Kinks knew the social scene from networking sites. He'd even taken Billy to clubs.

Billy says, "Mate. You'll never believe it."

He's got Kinks on the blower.

"What?" says Kinks.

"You any good with a camera, mate? What you doing at the moment?"

"Fuck all," says Kinks. "What's the beefy stew?"

"Doing this shoot, man."

"What, a rude shoot? Is there dirties happening?"

"I kid you fucking not my man, I've never seen a fucking shoot like it. Better than them oldies, son. There's this model, Mel, and she's playing the villain. Oh Christ, she ain't half mean. There's this other bird though, Lilly. Total newbie son, she just don't have a clue. And this bird Mel is just fucking her up."

"Fuck off," says Kinks, "it's a wind-up, right?"

"Straight up Kinky boy."

"Where's your Uncle, Bill?"

"Fucked off to some show at the N.E.C. He'd arranged this thing before and it's all gone tits up. His director fucks off, then this model gets drunk and never shows up. Spanky boy has a fucking awful hangover and Cyril tells me to sack the twat. Then guess what, Kinks? You know Carmine? My cousin, yeah?"

"She's the model?"

"No you prat, she ain't even here. Not now anyway. But apparently she come round Cyril's last week with some new bird she's dragged out of some fitness class. This bird don't know nothing, she's never even looked at the dirties before. It's fucking unbelievable, she's so completely clueless. And Carmine's showed up with her this morning and dumped the poor cow in the hands of the villains. So this new bird's getting some right stick off of Mel the meany, we just been filming, yeah? Only fate's struck again and this twat of a cameraman's started objecting. He's getting in the way, man, we've got to swap him out."

"So Uncle's not there then?"

"No mate, no, it's your perfect opportunity. You come in and out goes the twat. Cyril gets his updates, we're totally legit and you're in, my son. Hero of the hour, yeah? So what's your verdict?"

"What, about me doing camera? I'm having trouble walking, boy. Where are you then?"

"Mile End mate, the studio."

"Yeah. Fuck though," says Kinks, "I'm in Kentish town and I ain't got two bob."

"Petty cash. Give it you when you show your mug."

"Not kidding though Bill, I'm stony broke."

"Use your Oyster."

"Running on empty. Ain't got no coin, ain't even got a stamp."

Billy goes quiet. "Can you borrow it?"

"I'm travelling by foot, mate, I'm that boracic. No hang on." He's silent for a moment. "Remember that bird with the spiky hair? From the club that night?"

"Oh yeah," says Billy. "Why?"

"Well I'm shagging her. We come back together."

"We don't need any more models, Kinks."

"No mate, no. After the Garden. Got a ride in her car, she only lives local. I can tap her for a lift maybe."

"Some bird you just shagged?"

"No she's cool mate, cool. She's into it. She could make us the tea."

Billy's silent, thinking for a second. "You sure? She's not some silly tart who just does the clubs for the fashion show?"

"She's proper, mate. She's alright. Solid."

"Oh," says Billy.

"Only transport I can think of, mate."

"Yeah alright," Billy goes. "You vouch for her though, anything goes wonky  it's on your head. Oh and mate... fill her in. This bird we're doing here, we've got her thinking all kinds of rubbish. Like, Carmine does porn. Honest, she believes it! This bird's never watched the dirties and I swear to fuck, she don't know squat. This bird Mel's just fucking her up, it's hilarious. She'll believe practically anything, like all this continuity bollocks. But mate, you really can't give the game away, and neither can your fumble tart. It's normal, right? Whatever we tell this bird, whatever we're making her do, it happens all the time, alright? We're not conning her."

"You are though, yeah?"

"Yeah, course we are. Only she can't know it, can she? So brief your tart and don't let her squeal. There's dirties galore if we don't fuck up, right? The game is, Kinks, models do all sorts. Like, full-on all sorts, all the time. You seen plenty of birds get fucked up for hours. Everything's standard in filth sites nowadays, even if they ain't."

"What you mean like, bottles up their arses?"

"We ain't told her that yet."

"Should though eh, if she'll believe anything. Oh mate yeah, rubber bands round their tits. What's her tits like, Bill?"

"You dirty fucker." Billy laughs. "Ain't seen 'em out yet, we ain't had her naked. Look big enough from what I can see though, and Cyril says they're dirty, and he likes a bit of dirty tit. Her arse though... that's classic."

"I can bring the shag's hot water bottle."

"Bring her what?" asks Billy.

"This bottle with a hose. This enema kit."

"Your shag's been giving you enemas?"

"Not me, you tart! Her mates. Whoever. She's into all this alternative bollocks. Good for your energy, your chakra-whatsits, cleaning out your passage and that."

"Fucking gross man. What the fuck?"

"Nice and squeaky up her arse, Bill."

"Kinks my man, you've done spiky up her arse?"

"No I ain't. Not yet."

"You're sick, Kinks. Anyone told you that?"

"You tell me all the time, my man. I think it's why you love me really."

12: Malcolm says what he really likes; Billy and Malcolm both mentor Lilly

Billy comes back. Clive's sulking, pretending to service his camera, but Malcolm sees the lad and decides to talk. He nods towards Lilly, still bent double, looking sore and embarrassed.

"Does she really have to stay like that? Surely it's just humiliating for her?"

"Oh totally, yeah." Billy says this like it's a good thing. "Should be getting it on camera."

"Well I am. From a tripod, you know, just in case, like we said. Only Clive's stopped playing ball."

"You got the same problem as fuck face then?"

"Well, he's got his opinion. I've never worked on these jobs before."

"Too cruel then, are we?"

Malcolm looks. "Well it seems a bit harsh on the poor thing, yes. It is cruel, I suppose... must be horrible for her, I can barely imagine. I suppose the question is though... do I really object?"

"Well do you?"

Malcolm rubs his chin. He tips his head. "The problem is... " He brings his head close to Billy's. "While part of me feels sorry for her, there's this other part that's... well... enjoying every minute. I've never really said this to anyone before... but I don't always have the most generous thoughts. When the agent told me, I was floored... I mean, what? From a professional viewpoint, this could do me some real harm. I just can't use my director's name, if I'm credited. It's suicide. But the agent insisted, and I needed the cash. And this other response... "

"Your todger's letting you know what it thinks?"

Malcolm nods a little. "You could say it like that."

"Well that's not new round here mate, join the club mate. That's his problem I should think, Clive there, he's not really into it. Does it for the dosh and bugger all else. Shirt lifter maybe, or he just likes missionary. So you'd stay on then, would you, if he fucked off?"

Malcolm touches his chin again. "Professional ethics. Never walk off a job."

"And your todger fancies a little bit more? If he went, you'd not object then?"

Malcolm shakes his head with tiny moves. "You think he might walk?"

"Might encourage him a bit."

"You should pay him for his time though."

"You think?"

"Don't want him kicking up waves."

"Yeah alright. Though really I'd like to just boot him up the arse. Anyway, don't tell him, but I've got this mate coming over in a bit. Least I hope he is."

"Unreliable, is he?"

"No mate, sound as a pound. He's just shy of said moneys and he's stuck back of Camden. He might not be great, as a cameraman. But at least he'd be up for it. Can't have some fucker sticking spokes in the works. Such a beautiful set-up, innit? The dom's fantastic, the model's a corker... looks dirty as fuck and she's perfectly happy just doing her job. And you're not bad... professional, you are. Bit of the technicals and that, should go down a treat. Just that tit over there who's opening his big fat gob. Know him before, did you?"

"Vaguely. Not really."

"Married, is he?"

"Looks it... I should think so."

"Wonder if his wife knows what kind of productions he's working on?"

Malcolm just stares. "Just in case you've wondered, I've never been married."

Billy peers back. "Let me test you out a bit. You're enjoying this, aren't you? You said you were."

"Yes that's probably true."

"Probably true? Commitment, that."

"Well alright. Yes then."

"So what if we got her to do other stuff?"

Malcolm just swallows. "You mean more than... you know... what's happening?"

"How might that go down?"

"Depends, I suppose."

"Watch much porn, do you?"

Malcolm blinks. "I've had a look the odd time."

"At what? What's your bag?"

"At all sorts."

"Oh right. Mister daring. So what would you want her to do? This other stuff?"

Malcolm looks shocked. "You're asking me?"

"You got meat and two veg. Why not you?"

He swallows again.

"Let's start... you know... simple. D'you like naked ladies?"

Malcolm rocks his head in a figure of eight. "Well, obviously."

"On their own, or with blokes?"

"Well... to be perfectly honest, on their own I suppose. It's the men. Their... you know... tackle."

"Their big hairy backsides put you off your lunch?"

"That's... yes, that's true."

"Just checking, cause I ain't into that either. So you've got this naked bird there. What d'you want to see her doing?"

Malcolm's blinking at Lilly.

"Is she being all coy?"

"Well... no, to be honest."

"She's being quite rude?"

His head bobs. "I suppose so."

"So, what? She's just spreading?"

"Spreading?" asks Malcolm.

"Her bits. Apart."

"Oh, bollocks... I suppose so, yes."

"A bit or a lot?"

Malcolm's hands move intensely. He tuts. "Well... fuck... Yes, she's spreading. A lot, alright? About as wide as she can, if you really want to know."

He says this just as Mel comes up behind him.

Billy tips his head to her. "Malcolm was just saying what he thinks we should get our Lilly to do."

He turns. He blinks and looks up to the roof. "Fuck," he breathes out.

"Well well." She puts a hand on his chest. "Naughty man. But I'm sure she can be persuaded." She winks at Billy.

"This set-up's just priceless," Billy says. "If we keep her on the boil, we'll get uploads till the cows come home. You just keep the lights right, mate, keep the cameras stocked. But just do us all a favour... make sure that pillock keep his mouth clamped tight till my mate turns up. Cause he nearly blew the fucking game. We got updates coming in here and if that cunt don't spoil things, there's lots more to come. If he starts chucking tantrums though, we're fucked, she'll cotton on. All them lovely updates go up in a puff, and lord Cyril shall not be mightily pleased."

"You've got someone coming?" Mel asks this.

"Replacement for killjoy. A mate, he's alright."

"About bloody time. He's the only suck." She puts that hand on Malcolm again. "I thought you might call time, but it turns out you're more on the team than I though. Bit of extra wide for Malcolm, then, let's see what the chef can conjure up."

"Mind if I talk to the girl for a mo?" Billy asks Mel. "I'll not screw things up. What you said about the Model Release, before, yeah?"

"She thinks it's a binding contract," Mel tells Malcolm. "She never read a word."

"When I chat her up, can you do us a favour? Keep cunt boy occupied. Malcolm, you and all. When I chat to the bird, can you get us with the hand-held? Make sure you get her face in, yeah?"

Mel says, "Sure."

Malcolm takes up Billy's camera.

***

Billy strolls to Lilly and crouches down in front of her face. Malcolm follows to her side with the hand-held.

Billy says, "How you doing, love?" All very soft spoken and conciliatory.

"I'm alright, suppose," she says. "I know I got to stay here. I'm sore though. Can't I just sit down or something?"

"Can we let her sit down, Mal?"

Now Malcolm's on the spot. "I don't know," he says. "If there's chalk, maybe. We could draw around her feet."

"Ain't seen any round here though."

"Well... oh," says Malcolm. "Well I wonder if there's something else?"

"No mate," says Billy.

"Well no... It might be best if you stayed there, I suppose."

She looks pained as he says this.

"Can you cope?" Malcolm asks.

"I'll try," she says.

"Oh good girl. We all appreciate it. You're doing us, you know... proud."

"Yeah you're a treat," says Billy. "Some of them models are a pain to work with. Complain about everything. We'll just use them girls once then they're out on their ear though. We can't be having with useless models. Very strict around here, Mel will tell you, a model's got to do a proper job. So it makes it really easy when we get a trouper like you, love."

Lilly's glancing at the camera then away again. "It's just... I feel a so stupid," she says.

"They all do," says Billy. "Only when they're like Mel, then they realise we need 'em to. Continuity, innit? Like Mel says... sorts the men from the boys. More professional, innit, using proper stuff like that? That's why we've got a toff like Mal here to direct, so our stuff pops up a bit above the average."

Lilly looks to Malcolm. "So is it all the models have got do this?"

Billy just grins and lets Malcolm speak.

"Thing is," Malcolm starts hesitantly, "without... proper continuity... well it's hard to link all your shots together. So you shouldn't feel stupid."

She turns slightly teary. "Cause it's only me got to do this, isn't it? And I don't really know what I'm doing, do I?

"I know, it must be hard. Is this your first time?"

She nods, a lost puppy.

"Well you're terribly good. It's clear you're starting out, you know, you're clearly a beginner. But you're coping very well."

"All those things I've got to do though," she says. Her voice drops to a whisper. "Taking my pants down. In front of everyone."

"It's the job, though. That's modelling."

"But that caning, it hurts. And I'm trying really hard, I'm trying to do it... But she just keeps saying I'm loads too slow, then caning me for it! And I can't go any faster!"

"Yeah. Trouble is, you are slow," Billy says. "In a way it ain't your fault, you're a start-up. But you're still that slow, we're scared we won't finish."

"But I can't go any faster!"

"Think you can. If you try. Cause we're giving you lessons on our time really, innit? Cause you ain't up to speed with modelling. Proper models... Mel... they go blinding fast, it's all pose to pose to pose, like that. They know the routines, right, backwards, don't they? Only with you though, everything's first time, innit? I'm sorry darling, but you're grindingly slow."

She looks mortified, like she might even cry.

"I don't mean to hurt you. Not trying to be mean. It's just the way it is, innit?"

"I'm sorry," she says. "I'm really really sorry. But I've never had to pull my pants down before. And with everyone looking... "

"But we've loads more to get through. Pulling your pants down? That's hardly starting, it's massively tame."

Her eyes jerk to the camera, intensely embarrassed.

"We've hardly got going. That... what you've done so far... we've been taking it easy. Ain't we, Malcolm?"

He's put his eye to the cup of the camera. His head pops up. "What?" he asks.

'What Lilly's been up to. She's hardly even started."

"Oh," he says. "Yes. I suppose so. Just starting."

"Tell her what's next, man."

The older man blushes. "Oh... yes," he says. "I suppose it is tame. Compared to... you know."

"To what?" he asks.

"Well, nowadays. What the standards are. Like... spreading," he says.

"Yeah?' Billy asks. "Tell Lilly about the spreading, Malcolm."

He's blinking quite fast. There's a clear tinge of red around his ears. "Well, when I was a boy," he says, "well... some girls didn't really... you know, spread. At all. I remember it starting... just magazines back then... seeing things... between the legs, you know... just gradually starting to open up. I mean, that's what I thought. It's opening up! Look, it's really coming open... And that was, you know, well, years ago. And it did go further... then it sort of went back... till, well, nowadays, if a girl can't really open up wide... I mean, really, properly wide... " He swallows. "Both holes, sort of. Well... " He blinks, looking Lilly in her horrified eyes, compounding the lie, which he's just really noticed is a con as well, and adding in his voice to serve his erection, and so as not to lose what he now badly wants to see... "Well, I think she'd find it hard to get pretty much any work at all." He looks at Billy, then back at Lilly. "I'm shocked to find a girl who didn't realise that, actually."

Billy straightens Malcolm's camera, which has started to drift.

Lilly's lips are pressed and trembling. She asks, "Even when there's a cane as well?"

Malcolm blinks. Billy wonders how he'll deal with this. "Oh God, especially," Malcolm says at last. "Yes, of course. I mean... well... you cane the girl, then she has to spread. I mean, doesn't she, Billy? It's completely standard."

"If she wasn't getting a caning,' says Billy, " a bit of spreading wouldn't count for a lot."

Lilly looks from Billy to Malcolm again. "But that girl I saw wasn't doing that, though. The one in the film."

"Oh my lord," says Malcolm. "Did you watch it all?"

"No," Lilly says." I know I didn't watch it all. Carmine didn't have it all."

"Well there you have it," says Malcolm, relieved. "You just didn't see where that all started happening."

She's shaking her head. Her voice drops to a whisper. "Have I got to do that here? Have I got to... spread my bits and stuff?"

Malcolm says, "Bloody hell. Didn't you realise?"

She's shaking her head, little tears squeezing down.

"Oh my God... I'm so sorry."

"Why, though?" She's choking. "Why do they have to spread their bits?"

Malcolm feels so sorry for her. He reaches out and pats her back. "It's the set-up," he says. "The modelling set-up. When girls come to model... you know... they spread wide."

"Stick different things up them an' all," Billy adds.

Her head does a jerk. Her face dissolves more.

Malcolm's speaking quietly, a lump in his throat. "It's quite often about that subject really. Girls... you know, caned, just because they're being sluts."

"Oh my God," she says.

"They cane them... you know... to show them it's wrong. Like aversion therapy."

"Or sometimes the photographer's angry with the model. So he makes her spread wider. Cane's a bit of an incentive."

"To provide a bit of story," Malcolm adds. "To give it an excuse. These kinds of films, you know... quite often they're about things like that."

"Proper excuse, that is," Billy says. "So you can cane the girls, only still make it dirty, like in proper porn. Cause you got to compete with it, haven't you? Mel back there, she said you don't know much. She said you've hardly looked at porn."

Lilly jerkily wipes her face. "I always feel guilty if I look at dirty pictures. I only saw that short bit when she showed it me. And I didn't even know it was going to do that!"

"Mel's done loads and loads of shoots like that. All the girls on my uncle's website have, it's par for the course. Do all sorts, all sorts, some o' them girls. Bit of spreading... just for starters, that, I swear to fuck. What the punters expect now, every time. Cause if everyone else is doing it, you got to provide it as well or you're fucked. Got to match 'em or beat 'em, or no-one buys your product. So much fucking competition. You get some high and mighty model too proud to do a bit of proper spreading when you ask her politely, you ain't gonna use her again now, are you? Not when there's hundreds more out there who will. I'm sorry, girl. It's just totally normal. Just cause you ain't seen it don't mean it's not standard, do it? I mean, God's sake, it ain't just models now. It's your standard modern girl, like your mate Carmine. If a girl's not tried a bit of porn, she's not in the club with her mates now, is she? Have you not asked your friends? It's why Carmine's so keen. Like a rite of passage nowadays, innit? The liberated woman, your proper ladette, half the girls in the country have done a bit of porn."

She's shaking her head, face clearly upset. "I just can't believe it."

"Even if they never put it out, they done it as a treat for their boyfriends, innit? It's a get-to-know-you nowadays. Like them networking sites, your My Sites, your Face Aches. It's here's my face, here's my hobby, here's my poem, here's my fanny. Like an arms race, innit? Got to go one better than your rival next door. It's the same in full-on porn as well. One producer does it, you've all got to do it. Like I said, with your spreading... that's your starting post, innit? That's entry level. I mean... nowadays, inserts... that's stuff up your privates... well it used to mean things up your fanny, right? Just little things. Pencils. That went on for years, apparently. Then you started getting bigger bits. Just vibrators at first, your dildoes and so on. Then it's carrots, bananas... other bits, fingers. Then it all changed again. Your anal inserts started up."

Lilly clamps her hand to her face. Her eyes are like saucers.

"Soon as that started... well all that previous vaginal stuff just dropped off the radar. It was anal or nothing after that. And the girls who wouldn't do it, they got replaced by a hundred more who would. You might still find a but of fanny stuff sometimes... just for added, you on-the-sides, for the people who like it. With your double penetrations, your multiple jobs.

"Your advantage with anal though, over vaginal... the more you stretch your anus, right? The more you'll get up it. Then that leads you onto your gaping shots. That's spreading where your holes start opening wide. Well it happened before, your vaginal phase... but different girls' twats stretch in different ways, don't they? It's not always gaping, cause there's not so many girls can gape with their fannys. Nearly every bird gapes with her arse hole though, with a wee bit of prompting from regular inserts.

"Then another thing with your fanny is, till a girl's a bit older and done more blokes... more big-toy masturbation... " He mimes with his hand. "Really pumping it in, fucking ramming it in... well she can't gape her fanny that wide at all, even if she does it a little bit. With your anus though, right? Well your average anus can stretch wide already. Sort of has to, if you think about it. Stuff loads of stuff up their anuses, girls, they can really pack it in nowadays. Oh God yeah, all sorts. So that... you know... and your gaping fashion... that's thing now, innit? Like I said, girls won't do it, they can't get the work. It's pretty universal. It's expected now."

Lilly's looking more horrified than ever. Bent over, one arm dangling, but horrified, with a fist at her mouth.

"We'll go easy on you," Billy says, winking. "We can work you up slowly. Bit of spreading do you for now, alright? Only, darling... just keep doing what Mel there says. She knows her stuff, she'll bring you on. And try and make it fast, alright? Blinding fast, cause we've got to get shifting. All these delays, right? They're getting us behind."

13: Billy gives Clive the old heave-ho; Lilly is worked on by Mel and Malcolm

"How long before your friend gets here?"

"How long's a piece of string?" Billy says. "No idea, darling."

"But d'you think we should get some more in the can? Before the poor girl wilts on her feet?"

Billy calls Malcolm over as well. They've been idling their time, doing little bits of preparation. "Mel wants to get going," Billy says. "Think the prima donna might toe the line? Or I could give him the push."

"I'll have a quick word," Malcolm says.

He walks to where Clive is sulking with the camera.

"They want to crack on," Malcolm tells him. "The others. Are you happy to come back on side for us?"

Clive looks up. "Norman would never let this shit stand. He'd not leave a boy in charge."

"Aha. Who's the boy then? Billy or me?"

"I didn't mean you, course I didn't. That boy," he says. "What Cyril will say... well, I don't dare think."

Billy wanders over when he sees them looking.

"You want to watch it," Clive tells him.

"How so?" Billy asks.

"You're not treating that model right. It's too much. She's got rights."

"She's made her choice."

"She's an ordinary girl."

"Right, an ordinary girl on a spanking shoot. So what are you planning on doing about it, son?'

Clive juts his jaw out. "I might tell someone."

"Like who?"

"Like your uncle."

Billy laughs. "It's him who's told me who's in charge, and it ain't you. Don't fuck with my Uncle."

Clive stares. "I could tell someone else."

"You work this one out yourself then? Someone else. I'm scared."

"Authorities," Clive says.

Billy eyes him up/ "Wicked," he says. "You tell them and I'll tell your wife."

Clive just blinks. "My wife is none of your business."

"Uncle Cyril, right? Bound to know where you live, ain't he? And whose side do we think he might he come down on? Some random cameraman? Your missis is gonna be in some coffee morning and she'll get a message. Might even be addressed to one of her friends. Might list all them films you've been cameraman on. Show pictures from your camera, mate. Snaps of you and some model getting thrashed, there's all sorts back there. Always use multiple cameras on these, as no doubt you're aware. I've got pictures on this one in my mit with her in front and you in the back. Yeah... Now there's a thought, I wonder what your vicar's address is? Anyone religious in the family, Clive? Or your kid's favourite teacher... Next door neighbour... Or... and here's an alternative... we could slink out to the petty cash back there and pay you for your time thus far. And I'd strongly advise that you take the money option. Then just bugger off, please. Cause if any official presence, so to speak, should darken our door, I'll bring your wife some piccies round in person. Some off here of you filming Mel whacking Lilly with a cane, and apparently, condoning it."

Clive's shaking his head. "You nasty little shit."

"Temper, temper," Billy says.

Clive purses his lips, looks with hatred at the lad, then picks up his bag and shuffles to the office. Billy follows with the key to petty cash.

He asks, "What's your normal rate?"

"Sixty quid an hour."

Billy scratches his head. "Sounds a bit overpriced, son, but there you go. Let's say two hours, shall we? Since that was what you was booked up for."

"I've been kept here longer."

"Don't push your luck, son."

He peels some twenties off a roll and holds them out. But when Clive reaches for them, Billy snatches them back. He drops an invoice book on the table and says, "Best just sign this then. Date it an' all. Print your name, son... there. Paid in cash, job complete, for services rendered."

Clive just scowls at the boy, then he opens up the invoice book and writes quickly. He stamps a full stop at the end.

"Jolly good," says Billy, handing him the money.

Clive has to exit through the studio. The girl is still there, still bent and pathetic. He starts to walk towards her. But Mel sees the move and triangulates towards him. He diverts away and heads for the door.

"Ta ta," says Billy.

Clive feels himself bottling it all inside. He feels weak, he feels useless, because he knows he'll just go home. He kicks himself for his moral collapse. But he's never agreed with the industry. He's been cameraman on Cyril's films, and for other companies, for years. He's watched the films get steadily stronger. Seen six taps become six whacks. Six whacks become twelve. Twelve become eighteen, then quickly expand to twenty-four. It stuck there for a year or so, then crept on to thirty. And there it sat, till one film had sixty, and the girl didn't even really seem to mind. They got harder and longer. Used restraints, mixed in spankings and strappings as well. The canes strayed from buttocks onto thigh backs, even thigh fronts, sometimes even palms of hands. There'd be brief pauses in this relentless slide, then it always jerked to life and ground on more. The internet let in the Eastern Europeans. They went very quickly harder and harder. But this production here, this was too much. An innocent girl being whacked like that, made to stand there just to shame her. Taking the piss like that just for the sake of humiliating her, for some sick sense of amusement. All along he'd never said a word. He just filmed it, taken money, then turned up next time. Till he'd finally snapped. A boy in charge, for Christ's sake. And that little shit had just threatened him with something he really feared. He wants to feel good about walking off, but he's leaving that poor girl on her own, at the mercy of bastards. He half imagines going back to rescue her. She'd be grateful. She'd probably stick close to him, need him to comfort her afterwards. An image passes unbid as this through his mind, how that comforting might look. And his wife wouldn't like that much, either. He continues walking away, one step after the other, around one corner, down another street. He passes shops, passes people. They have no idea how culpable he feels. He feels shame. He hasn't even warned the girl that they're conning her. She's still standing there, or they're caning her again, or doing something worse. He tries to cut it out of his mind, to tell himself he's done the decent thing. But his disgust with himself himself is biggest of all. And that, more than anything, is why he keeps on walking.

***

Mel says to Lilly, "So, now that's a bit more intimate, isn't it? And I'm glad to see you're still in position, more or less. Jolly good. Keep up the good work."

Billy scrolls an image from Clive's abandoned camera. He shows Mel the girl's last pose. He plays her some tape of the last bit of action.

"Great," she says. "Well I'll have to make adjustments, she's not kept it quite dead on."

They're gathered round Lilly. Malcolm sets a tripod up to use Clive's camera for a master shot. The room seems smaller... just the four of them now.

Mel looks up at the other two. "We'll carry on how we left off, eh?"

Billy says, "Sure," and Malcolm nods soberly.

Billy freezes a shot and holds it where Mel can see it. She gets down on her knees and takes Lilly's foot. She twists it into the position it's in on the tape. If they've lied about continuity, they'd better make the lie look real. Lilly's other foot gets moved, then Mel presses her back down and positions her hands, her head, bends her knees, and arranges Lilly's skirt.

"Just show me what I was doing again."

She reviews the video, then Billy sets the camera on Malcolm's tripod. He swaps in a new tape... the used ones have all been labelled with camera, shoot and date.

Malcolm's set the tripod low. It's looking up at Lilly's side, with its lens peering wide. Billy takes his own camera behind the girl, in a similar position to the last piece of action. He frames, puts his thumb up. Three cameras start rolling.

Mel says, "Ready, lovely? I've got to get us started again. You've gone cold... you're not breathing like you were before. Do you follow? So darling, I need you to be good. You'll have to hang on tight while I get us up to speed. "

Lilly nods her head tightly, then Mel just starts attacking her with no more preamble. She swipes with the cane over Lilly's skirt. Not once or twice either... she starts with a rhythm. They're not killer strokes, but they clearly hurt, and they're coming close together. Lilly tries not to, but she has to react. She starts groaning, sucking teeth. Her back comes up, a leg clunks out, she twists around.

Mel steps in and grabs Lilly's elbow. She pulls her back the way she was facing then slaps the middle of her back to push it down. Then she moves the girl's overall position. She grips her hips and manhandles her backwards, turning her to face the camera on the tripod, then flips up Lilly's skirt.

She's all hands-on this time, all actions not words. She grabs the girl's knickers at the top of her cheeks and tugs them tight. She puts her cane aside in the knicker-holding hand, then starts to spank Lilly's generous arse. Not quickly... slowly. She's hitting her cheeks with reasonable force, so the slaps cause rippling explosions of flesh. The girl's cheeks had lost redness; now they start to roast up again.

Lilly is breathing much faster. She glares at the camera which is capturing her renewed ordeal. She rocks and lurches as the slaps thump in. The force of the slaps are pushing Lilly forward, but Mel's grip on her panties are snapping her back. Lilly's knees lock straight, her feet clomp and thud. Arms dangle, elbows bend, fingers clench convulsively. Her breasts, still pushed through her blouse at the front, rock and wave as they dangle, still just inside their bra. Her hair shudders, her mouth pinches, her face is steadily turning red.

Mel switches the cane to her spanking hand. She holds it at three-quarter length... she's too close for the full length... and whips it onto Lilly's globular cheeks. Not that hard, but repeatedly, moving her aim from flick to flick. And she just keeps on. Not five flicks, not ten, but twenty, thirty, forty and more. They flicks criss-cross Lilly's fleshy globes, which quiver and dance like party jellies. But the strokes aren't even. They're capricious, uneven, weight varied, timing staggered. They revel in their unpredictability. And they're blatantly performed for a sexual kicks... kicks being taken at this poor girl's expense, which are meant to make her squirm. It's a bragging, self-consciously stochastic rhythm, dominating and wilfully taunting. And the longer it lasts, the more Lilly can be seen to suffer. Her hands clench tight, her arms jerk tensely with suppressed defensive urges.

Mel lets the knickers go, stretched and off center. They don't even cover Lilly's labia now, but are twisted to one side. The woman lengthens her cane so she's holding it at the handle. She pulls it back then cracks it in. It hits Lilly low down on her in-curving cheeks. The girl gasps, then moans. The woman pulls it back and strikes again. It hits higher, whips around the poor girl's haunch. Mel draws it back a third time.

The cane cannons in, but it misses Lilly's buttocks entirely. It strikes her thighs with a nasty great crack, more audible than any before. There's a slight pause from Lilly. Then she gargles a groan. Her lips draw open, but her teeth stay clenched solid. Her arms have jumped back spontaneously, gripping both thighs with protecting hands. She's not trying to look elegant... she doesn't know how... she wouldn't care right now even if she did. She's bobbing her hips, stamping a foot. She releases one grip and takes up a fresh one. She's crouched low in pain. Her crotch is getting accidentally stretched, with her labia parted to show glistening pink. She rocks on her heels, stamps one foot down, then jumps up and down on the spot, holding tight.

Billy's mouth sits open as he films from behind. His erection is telling him he's falling in love. He's just watched the very thing Kinks would have picked, an out-take among out-takes, a spontaneous inelegance so marked his friend would be crying as he laughed at the monitor.

Mel is about to tell Lilly to keep her arms down when she catches Billy's face. He's miming, "That was fucking great." She checks Malcolm's reaction. His eyes are blinking slowly, he's been licking his lips unconsciously.

Mel grips the girl's wrist and pulls it away, but she doesn't admonish. She takes both elbows from the front and pulls them downwards. Then she steps behind. The line on the girl's legs is turning red and livid. Mel pretends to whip with the cane, but she's really just swishing empty air. Lilly's arms flinch back convulsively. Mel snaps a real stroke down from above, on the backmost edge of Lilly's globes. The girl groans, her arms jerk, but she clenches her fists and rides the pain. Then Mel canes from behind. She hits buttocks square on. Lilly shudders and stamps a foot, she bangs clenched fists against her thighs. The torment is obvious in her eyes... she's staring at the stationary camera, it's a natural spot to focus on. The cane swishes with a ghost stroke. Lilly reacts as if this is real, she jerks her elbows in false anticipation. Another pretend stroke follows it, then a third. Lilly realises she's being toyed with now. The woman want to make her think the worst, make her jump, make her flinch. She stares at the camera, eyes stressed, tense face rigid.

The cane strikes her legs at speed. It's a moment before it sears her nerves to life, then their terrible signals make her clench her eyes fast shut. Tears squeeze between their lids. Her hands reach on their own for the back of her thighs. Her toes curl inward. Her mouth is wide open in a silent scream. She starts to shudder, bobbing and dipping as she cradles the pain, her stomach and thighs pressed tight to each other.

Malcolm records. Like Billy, he's holding his camera in his hands, and if Billy's filming in a close orbit, he's filming in a wider one. He feels himself conflicted. A professional man, with career and prospects and standards to maintain. He's filming a girl who's being stripped systematically of whatever semblance of dignity she had. He's party to her suffering, culpable in her gross humiliation. But the images he's getting... He's crouching at her level, seeing her react. He's sculpted the lights, creating the mood his camera can see. He knows his stuff, he loves his work. And he can't get enough of what he's seeing through the lens.

The girl has staggered forward, too close to the static camera. He catches Mel's eye and mimes, "Pull her backwards." He's indicating with the flat of his hand, then he adds in a gesture like a fist gripping cloth, and jerks it up twice to suggest an action. The woman gets his meaning. She reaches in and takes the girl's knickers. She pulls up hard. She drags the girl backwards. Lilly rocks on her heels, then a foot clumps back and her hands are jerking out to steady her balance. When she stumbles, she's held up by the straining material.

Malcolm knows he's directly responsible. He's made the girl specifically suffer this indignity. Mel looks to see if he'll contribute more. Will the girl see him do this?

He mimes, "Cane her. Slowly. More upright."

Mel nods and readies the cane.

"Make her jump. Make her flinch." He holds up his thumb.

Mel nods, steps forward and manhandles the girl. She poses the model precisely by hand: this foot here, knees like this, body thus tilted. She pulls Lilly's arms out so they're pointing slightly forward. She rolls the girl's skirt up and stuffs it in her belt, then pulls at the knickers so they failing to cover much of anything. Finally she reaches round Lilly's body, slips a hand inside her bra and pulls out a breast. She does the same with the second cup. She lets the breasts flop down on top of the bra, which is rucked underneath them uncomfortably.

"Don't move now, pretty girl," says Mel.

She shivers the cane up and down to make it whistle in the air. The girl makes nervous head movements. Mel then makes it crack the air violently. Once, twice, three times. Lilly's torso shivers, her head position stutters as she tries to look back. A small, quiet whine escapes her throat. Mel pretends to crack the cane with a whip-and-back. The girl's elbow jerks. She whimpers again, high-pitched and short. There's another false stroke.

She's got her where she want her. Trembling, spasming, whimpering, frightened. On display and exposed. Out of her depth, half a mile from shore.

The threat becomes real. The cane whistles fast, landing up high close to Lilly's padded hips. The girl's hands clutch tight and end back behind position. It's followed by a fake stroke, which slices empty air viciously fast. A quick double whimper slips high from Lilly's voicebox. Her torso now judders with periodic shivers, not from pain but from fear.

The woman swipes her cane in hard. A straight stroke, catching Lilly low on her big globed cheeks. It staggers the girl. Her trembling fingers reach back now slowly, barely touching the livid new rawness. The woman lets the girl's self-touching linger on, then lightly clips the fingers with the tip of her cane. Lilly jerks her hand away.

Mel stamps a foot back, whips the cane in the air. The suffering model lets a sharp, high whine escape. She's being tortured by her own anticipation, by her inability to predict which stroke will land and which will not.

Pain explodes at the juncture of thigh and cheek. Then her hands are cradling and protecting once more, her torso tilted forwards at forty degrees. Feet apart, pointing strongly inwards, knees almost touching. Exposed breasts jut unevenly forward, pressed up and together by restricting buttons. Shudders run through her body. The cane whistles strongly and her covering hands jerk, but fail to move away.

Mel puts down the cane. She clamps her hands on top of Lilly's. The girl thinks they'll be yanked aside, but instead, they're stretched slowly backwards, extending their current line and making Lilly's shoulders strain.

"If you insist on placing your hands there," Mel says, "at least you could do something useful with them."

She forces the hands together. She clamps them fast onto Lilly's bare flesh. She makes the hands pull outwards and upwards. Lilly's cheeks and labia separate, strongly stretching. She feels cold air reach places which have never been exposed in public.

"Fucking hell," whispers Billy, right behind. There's a not-so-hidden giggle at the heart of his words. "Fucking hell," he says and shakes his head.

Mel grips one wrist hard and pulls once more. Then she takes the flesh under it and draws it tight to one side, before clamping the hand back firmly in place. She repeats this with Lilly's other hand. The girl is fully, obscenely on display.

Mel says in Lilly's ear, "Just like that.". Then she bends the girl forwards to sixty degrees. She presses on her back so Lilly's knees are bent a little more, completely touching. "What I now need from you," Mel says, "is perfect posing. I need you to stay exactly like that. In fact, it's absolutely vital that you don't even move a single muscle. Do not, under any circumstances, loosen your hands. Because we have to change set-up. We have to do some very technical things. But continuity demands you stay exactly like this."

The girl's chin is starting to quiver strongly, but she nods her head.

"You're going to be a good little model, and not going to move a muscle. Aren't you?"

Lilly nods slowly, with an added judder.

"For just as long as it takes us. Understand? You... will not... move till I tell you you can move. Because what we just got was... well, reasonably good. Not great you understand... not perfect... but acceptably good. Enough that we can probably use it. Look, Malcolm is nodding. But... if you change position lovely, you've just blown the link, and we'll have to go back and film all of that again. And I promise, if you move from this position, I will. So don't fuck up now. I'll be watching. I'll know."

She leaves the girl in her miserable pose. Billy shakes his head. He takes his camera and places it behind her, low down and pointing up, like the fixed one pointing straight at Lilly's face. He goes off with Mel towards the kitchen.

It's Malcolm who stays watching. He waits till they're out of sight, then he starts to walk around the girl. He walks behind. She's starting to shudder, starting to cry. He comes round and frames up a side shot of her face. He witnesses her face dissolve in quiet tears... chin trembles, lips quiver. He records her with the best composed shots he can conjure. He's in awe, in a way. There's so much to see. It's a special performance, with all the veracity of reality. It beats acting anytime. He moves to look at her face from the front. Her eyes won't look at his lens. She looks off to the side, she blinks down at the floor. Her body is shuddering fully now.

He says, "Lilly. Show me."

She doesn't at first. Then her head looks up. There's so much to see. Eyes blinking tears, torso quivering, facial muscles all in spasm. She's looking at his face, above the frame.

"In the lens," he says quietly. "Look into here."

She looks straight in its center. Malcolm knows he needs it. He needs her to connect directly with his viewer. He needs all that anguish to be pleading with them. When they watch, they'll connect. They'll be doing culpable too. Her perfect anguish will make them feel pity. They'll suffer with her. She'll suffer for them. preserved forever- she'll never get old. She'll suffer forever, captured in time.

He keeps the camera very still until he knows he has enough. Then he draws the camera slowly back. Her eyes still contact. He drops the lens down and pushes in. She tracks with liquid eyes. Then he tilts the camera to look straight at her breasts, and her throat gives a whimper of anguished betrayal. When he pulls back next, she's looked away, and won't reengage. Just tiny flickers as she judges him with sidelong flickers.

He lifts the camera up right in front of her, till the lens is pointing downwards. Then he walks around her other side, pulling away to see her from a three quarter view, partly behind. He walks till the girl is much smaller in his frame, till he sees her in context... small, awkward, desperately humiliated. He comes fully behind her then tracks his camera in towards her gripping hands, and twists the zoom to full wide angle. Her bottom fills his frame, pointing up and out. All the skin in between her claw-gripping hands is stretched fully wide. There's a prominent ridge in the middle of frame. Below the ridge is a small pink cavity. Her vagina is open an inch at least. There's a slit below. It's glistening faintly. The lips are stretched wide, the tiny hole of her urethra exposed. Above the ridge, the girl's anus stretches. It's not welcoming the air like its companion below, but its brown rim is stretched wide enough. There's a central core of pink. As the girl 's body shudders and spasms, it reacts, sucking in.

Malcolm steps a short way back. His camera rises up. In this wide-angle lens, her bum seems enormous... the angles he chooses makes this inevitable. He lifts more, pointing down, objectifying her, dominating and gloating. Livid marks are visible. Red patches, ruddy goose-bumps, welts and spreading bruises to either side of the long, ridged cane marks. The edges of her buttocks are pressed back by her arms in unnatural bulges. She looks dreadful. He marvels at her awkward, compromised, extreme indignity. He drops down again to look between the top of her legs, where a small gap reveals her dangling breasts.

Every view he captures is as cruel as he can make it. He keeps hunting for framings that will make her look worse, make her seem more ridiculous. He walks round her again. She won't look at him at all. He completes his circuit till he's come back behind, then he holds the camera with a single hand. His other hand stretches forward into shot. It cups the girl's pudenda with a creepy familiarity. It pats, like it's patting an animal's head. It squeezes, too familiar. It settles, pats again.

"Good girl," says his voice.

The hand lifts and settles right between her cheeks, with the fingertips covering the girl's stretched anus.

"Good girl," he says again.

He lets the fingers pat and rub.

"Good girl, Lilly."

The hand lifts off. It taps back in slowly, and taps again. Then it slaps down, hard. The girl's fingers tense and clutch, but don't let go. Her torso is shuddering visibly.

The hand cups the girl's pudenda once more. It settles there, possessive, but doesn't slap again.

_____