The Replacement Model

THE REPLACEMENT MODEL

by Smackmagnet

Secondary Part

:: Holding Open ::

14: Billy, Mel and Malcolm discuss Lilly; Lilly is parked

Billy and Mel have a cuppa on the boil. They share a quick look when Malcolm wanders in.

"Oh great," Malcolm says, "I'm gasping."

Mel asks, "What did you make of that little lot then?"

Malcolm glances at each in turn. "Well, you know," he says. "On one level... poor thing, I mean she's being subjecting to such an ordeal."

Mel and Billy laugh between themselves.

"What?" he asks.

"Nothing," Mel says.

"It's the way you tell 'em," Billy says. "You ain't half posh."

"Posh?" he asks. "I'm not posh. I've met posh people."

"You're posh to us, mate."

"Such an ordeal?" Mel says. "You think it's too much?"

"Well it is rather cruel I suppose," he says.

She's peering at him. "Too cruel, you think?"

Billy is staring intently as well.

Malcolm looks at the floor, tilting his head as he searches for words. "Yes. On one level it's terribly cruel. I mean, I know it's cruel conceptually, I can even see it written in the poor thing's face. All that shame, incomprehension. But she's just so..."

"Gullible?" Billy asks.

"Well, she is that, yes. Remarkably so. No. She just seems so... unwilling to say no to anything. I mean I see her suffering. It may look very cruel. But... fuck, you know. It's a bugger to admit, but I'm really just having a ball out there. Dickie, bless him... that's the agent, you know... he had to twist my arm." His voice drops to a whisper. "But it's the best bloody job he's got me in years. I know it must be dreadful for the girl, I mean, imagine if that was you out there. But the thing is, it isn't me, is it? It's this silly girl who, to be honest, I'm not even sure I even like."

"Christ," says Billy, "got hidden depths you mate. I'd have sworn you'd want to rain on this parade. Like our mate Clive, yeah?"

"Oh yes, I was thinking about him," Malcolm says. "How he tried to make out like he was standing up for the girl. But when it came down to it, did you notice? It wasn't the girl he felt sorry for at all. It was him. He thought he should have been director. The bugger felt slighted. The girl was just his excuse, a convenient high horse."

Billy's grinning. "I really thought you'd be someone else. Probably just the way you talk. You're a shit load more useful than I figured you'd be."

"Easier without Clive there though," Mel says.

"Fucking right," Billy says, "him glowering at every fucking thing. But fuck me, it's fun now... I think it's dynamite what's happening out there. Mel's got her so she don't know if she's coming or going."

"Is this as good as your other productions?"

"No mate, not as good, I reckon it's better. Total laugh this one. Her reactions, what?"

"The twitching? All that jumping and anticipation? I love that too. I mean, I'm looking through the lens and she's not pretending anything. Everything's raw, you know she's really feeling it for real. You can't say it's not compelling. It looks wicked in the camera, it's terrifically intense."

"So we're agreeing then?" Mel asks. "It's not too much? We carry on?"

"What you asking?" Billy asks. "Course we carry on. Cyril's gonna be creaming his pants."

"Oh God, I thought I was too," Malcolm says.

Billy giggles. "Liked that bit of spreading, did you?" He sniggers to Mel.

"Oh my lord," Malcolm says.

"Got your todger stirring, did it?"

"Hum," he says.

Mel asks, "You don't think... well, humiliating her like that's too much, then?"

Billy giggles. Malcolm says, "Too much? Most definitely. At the same time though... well it's terribly entertaining."

"Terribly, terribly," Billy says. "Would sir like some spreading with his spanking today?"

"So we milk her for more?" Mel asks. "We carry on the same then? Thing is, I've been on shoots with a lot of truly ignorant models. I've had a lot of time to think this out. But I honestly think there's mileage in us not admitting what we've just been saying. That really, we think we're getting brilliant work. We could give her little bits of encouragement now and again maybe, but really, I think we should be exploiting what she doesn't know a lot, lot more. In fact, I want us to start spinning it like she's getting things wrong. The joy of her is that she's such an amateur, right? She has absolutely no idea what she ought to be doing. What if we make her think that's starting to be a problem? Because the thing is, we wouldn't have to be specific, we wouldn't have to tell her exactly what she's wrong. Just all act a bit pissed off with her. I mean look at it this way... she'll only be this gullible once. If we want squeeze the most out of her while she's totally ripe, we've really got to do it now. I mean, Billy, your friend Carmine pointed out, this is a no-consequence girl. She's got no representation, has she? No agent in her corner. Plus, she's so obviously ashamed about the whole thing that she's clearly not going to tell anyone about it. I mean it's cruel as you like, but she's a total sitting duck. So let's exploit her now. Because what I'm thinking is, if we make out that her amateurishness is causing us terrible problems, we can keep her jumping through hoops for hours. Like with the speed thing I've introduced. If we get her to repeat things we claim she's doing wrong, we could keep her here all afternoon. I mean God, I know it's cruel, it's evil... but we could get her doing the most ridiculous, the most ludicrously idiotic things, over and over till she just doesn't have any dignity left."

They look at each other. Billy's eyes are blinking with a sultry slowness.

"What," Malcolm asks, "consciously invite the viewer to laugh at her? Deliberately take the piss?"

"I fucking love it," Billy says.

"And aren't we really doing it already?" Mel asks. "Is this really much more harsh?"

Malcolm says, "Well it is harsh, it all is. It is a bit strong, yes. But I mean, while I feel for her on certain levels... I just keep noticing that next moment I'm thinking... go on Mel, do it again. You know... hit her harder so she jumps up and down like an idiot again."

"Do her proper," says Billy.

"Yes, do her good and proper."

"Thing is," Billy says, "she looks like an idiot at the best of times. Piece of piss to make her look worse. What a laugh, eh?"

"Don't let on though," Mel says, "not a hint, either of you. The straighter we play it, the more she'll believe us. I wanted to ask as well, how much more punishment?"

"I am of the considered opinion," Billy says, "that that girl's arse can take it till the cows come home."

Malcolm says, "Don't you wish we had a slow motion camera? That bottom's just  rippling all over the place. So big, but so firm and springy."

Mel says, "She's got a such funny body, hasn't she?"

That is a dirty, dirty body," Billy says, "She'll never go up on a catwalk, but every time I look at it, I just want to do things to it. Like it's begging for it. Her tits are dirty, her arse is dirty, the way her cunt opened up looks dirty. Then you look at her face. And she's pretty, she is, yeah? But it's not your normal kind of pretty. She's unusual pretty, she's quirky pretty, like you're not sure whether she really is or not. And by the time you've decided, you've already done something dirty to her, something of a most disgusting kind. There's something about her that's begging for abuse. Perfect bod for spanking. No girl, let's fucking do her, then just keep on doing her."

***

They wander back into the studio one by one. Billy first. He stands looking at Lilly, sipping his tea. Then Mel comes out and busies herself with some papers on a worktop. It's the original script, back from when she and no-show model Gracie were intended to take the punishment. Billy walks around Lilly at a distance and clicks his mug of tea down by Mel.

She waves the script. "Bit of a waste, this."

"Don't miss it, do you?"

She makes a one-noise laugh. "Course not. How do you think I'm doing on the other end, then? You know... me on cane, not the other way round?"

"Best I've seen," he says.

"You think so?"

"Know so. That wanker Gaz is hammy as fuck. Cyril only used him cause he used to be a mate. I think there might be a very strong chance that he'll have you back. He will if I've got anything to do with it. Prefer women as doms, me, then there's no ugly wanker blocking up the screen."

Mel nudges his elbow. "How do you think the new girl's doing?"

They turn and stare. Billy picks his tea up. "Alright, I suppose," he says. "Still a bit slow though. Not that fast picking up instructions, is she?"

Malcolm emerges with his own mug of coffee. He starts to busy himself with wires, the mains leads feeding the lights. He takes some tape and binds them together then tapes them to the floor. Then he's working with the lights themselves. He uses them to sculpt the areas of shade and brilliance around Lilly. The others come close.

"You still want to keep her in the same spot, yeah?" Billy asks.

"Just making sure the set-up is coping with the model being in low positions like this. Billy, would you oblige? Stand next to her please. You too, Mel. For the lighting set-up."

They stand either side of the double-bent girl. Malcolm moves his lights. "I need to check with some stills," he says.

He's working behind Lilly, lighting her back end. There's a static movie camera pointing up at her which Billy left there, still recording. Billy and Mel come in and stand to either side of her hips. As Clive lifts the stills camera, Billy poses with his mug just over the small of Lilly's back, like he's using her as a table. He has a fat grin. Malcolm moves to the front. Mel and Billy turn to face him. He kneels in before the trio, just behind a second video camera which is recording a view of her face.

She's been posing continuously for nearly two hours without a break. She's had her torso  tilted and her arse stuck out for more than an hour. She's been tilted more strongly forwards and made to bend her knees, with her hands clamped back spreading her bum cheeks fully wide for more than twenty minutes. She's been told by Mel not to move until instructed. The effort is showing. She's trembling. The backs of her thighs are quivering with muscle strain, Her upper arm muscles are causing her elbows to tremble, and shivers periodically thrum down her body. She's not a girl who poses elegantly at the best of times, but here she looks strongly, even forcefully inelegant. The camera points at her and the others.

"I'd like you to look at the lens, Lilly," Malcolm says.

"Come on, Darling." Mel encourages her by tilting her chin up.

"Smile, everybody."

The lad and the woman oblige without a care. They start mugging together for the camera. They pose cheek to cheek above Lilly's back. They change positions, pose again.

"Smile as well please, Lilly," Malcolm says.

"Is she not?" Mel kneels next to the girl so that her face is alongside. She puts two fingers at the corners of Lilly's mouth and pushes. "Smile when the nice man asks you," she says.

The girl tries, but can't.

"Come on darling, make an effort."

Lilly tries. The results are pathetic. Her cheeks bunch, her mouth moves, but the result look more like crying than smiling.

"Look lovey, just smile, alright? It won't kill you."

"I can't," the girl whines quietly.

"Course you bloody can."

"I need..."

"Need what?" Mel asks curtly.

"I need a wee," Lilly says.

Mel looks directly at the girl, then tuts.

"It hurts," Lilly says.

Mel whispers under her breath. It's a drawn-out f: "Ffucking hell."

"Please," Lilly says.

Mel sighs, quickly. "A little bit of bladder pain, really..."

"What's up?" Billy asks.

Mel stands up. "She says she needs a bloody piss," Mel mutters fairly loudly.

Billy makes a laughing face. He mouths the word, "Excellent!"

Mel Mugs with him for the camera once more.

Lilly sounds close to tears. In her low position, she can't see them making fun of her. "Please," she whispers, "I'll come back the same."

"What?" Mel bends low beside her.

"I'll do it the same."

Mel glances at Malcolm. She appears to be asking him a question. Malcolm, taking his cue from Billy and Mel, quietly shakes his head.

"A tiny bit of bladder pain," Mel says, "and you're prepared to ruin twenty minutes of hard-won continuity for us. You're wasting our time. So no lovey, it's out of the question. It's completely unprofessional. You'll just have to do what a proper model does, just grin and bear it. Do you think the Queen complains when she needs a pee? All those endless walkabouts, embassy dinners, garden parties? No, she just smiles and gets on with her job."

She gets up, leaving the girl in her unhappy pose. She stands back. Malcolm continues to adjust. Billy watches as well. He picks up the spare camera, Malcolm's, which has been parked on a tripod to one side of the girl. It's also been recording during the break. He keeps it framed up on the girl.

Malcolm asks, "Listen... do we think it might be possible to shift Lilly's position a touch? I mean, not her pose. Absolutely not that. But I wouldn't mind seeing her a little further forward. Got some awkward shadows, if you know what I mean."

"Oh, sure," Mel says unfazed. She bends towards the girl again. "Lovey darling, you heard what the man said. You absolutely mustn't change position, right? Keep your body, your legs, everything in exactly the same pose as now. But we need you to move forward a couple of steps."

Lilly is bent nearly double already. Her knees are together but her feet are apart, turned inwards. Her arse is in the air and her arms are clamped back around its cheeks, pulling it so wide that her labia is parted and a half inch hole visible at its heart. Her fleshy cheeks are pushed strongly sideways and forwards, with twin creases at her hips.

"Go on darling, forward a bit. Keep your knees together dear, feet just as they are now. Except... you know... walk."

Lilly's head is looking at the woman. She tries to do this. She moves first her right foot, then her left. With her knees almost touching, this has the effect of rotating her upper half like a waddling duck. She ends up close to the camera on the floor in front.

"That alright?" Mel asks Malcolm.

He looks. He walks around the girl. He glances at Billy.

"Again," Billy mimes behind Lilly's back, holding up a thumb.

"Oh. Yes, quite. Can she go back a bit, Melanie? Try her in the other direction?"

"Same as before, or... no, a bit further? Well come on lovey," Mel says, "you heard the man."

"What... backwards?" Lilly asks pathetically.

"Of course backwards. Come on, get on with it."

The girl's head makes small darting turns to look between their faces.

"Come on lovey, stop wasting our time."

She starts. She edges a foot backwards, makes contact with the floor, then moves the second foot.

"Two more steps, darling."

The girl clunk-clunks again, close to the back camera. She looks remarkably silly as she moves.

"What do you think then?" Mel asks Malcolm.

"I can't really tell," he says. "Look, tell you what. Can she go back to the start? We'll mark her spot with something. I mean, God, I don't want her to lose the pose or anything, that would be too counter productive. But to tell you the truth, it would really help to have her out of the way for a few minutes."

Mel prompts the girl forwards again. Lilly clomps more or less back to her original position. Malcolm finds a yardstick and places it between her feet.

"That's her orientation," he says. He hunts around for something else. He takes various objects like papers and cartons and arranges them around her feet. "That should do it," he says. He marks the forward camera's position as well, then picks it up and looks through its eyecup. "You can move her off now."

"Alright," Mel tells the girl, "let's walk on a bit, eh?"

"What... you want..."

"Come on, get on with it," Mel says.

Lilly looks around at the cameras pointing at her. Her face is unhappy, even disturbed. Mel pokes the girl twice in her back end, quite sharply, just above where Lilly's fingers are gripping. Lilly starts to lumber forwards. Knees bent and together, feet splayed, hands clamped. Billy tracks along behind her, recording, as Lilly waddles, idiotic, towards the end of the studio where lighting wires lie on the floor.

"Stop," Mel says. Then, "Back a bit. Bit further. Alright, turn to your left... No, your other left... Stop! Forward. Slowly... Stop. Left a bit... Left a bit more... Forward slightly. More... and... Stop!"

The girl has been manoeuvred out of the way at the back of the studio, down between a stack of scenic props and a stack of tables. Billy props his camera on a chair to keep an eye on her. Malcolm, who's recorded her stupid walk as well, gives his camera to the boy, who tilts it on the floor behind her legs, looking up as before. It's like she's a bike that's been parked out of the way.

"Keep the pose darling," Mel tells her, "you know the routine."

She walks away. Billy does as well. He and Mel stand watching from a distance. They can't see Lilly's face, and Lilly can't see theirs. But as they watch her back end, the girl, in shadow, starts to bob her body and make tiny, quiet moaning sounds. Trying to maintain her desperate grip on her bum cheeks, she dips her hips in short, pained jerks, curls her toes, stamps a heel. Longer keening sounds are escaping her, high and whimpering.

"Is it just too cruel?" Malcolm asks.

Billy giggles. He says, "Cruel, yeah. But it's really fucking funny as well."

"What's cruel?" asks a voice beside them.

15: Kinks and Co; Malcolm comforts Lilly

"Ay aye, matey! How are you, son? That the bird? Oh fuck me mate, alright darling?"

It's Kinks, carrying a heavy plastic bag, and it's Mel he's calling the bird. Billy and the others turn. Kinks jumps in close and rubs his knuckles on Billy's head.

"How did you get in?" Billy asks.

"Through the door, son. Who's the lady?"

"That's Mel," says Billy.

"You the model or the villain?"

"Villain," says Billy. "Means dom," he translates for the other two.

"You know your door was left open, don't you?"

"Open?" Billy asks.

"Gaping mate. Wedge in it."

"That fucker Clive's never working here again." Billy has turned towards the entrance. He stops still, staring.

"Oh yeah," Kinks says, "sorry matey. Ever such a slight divergence from plan."

Kinks, it seems, is not on his own. There's this spiky-haired goth girl who Billy's met before.

"You know Nicks, she give us a ride," says Kinks. "You remember Cal and all? Dressed in all that frayed-up leather at the Garden? Well Sammy there, That's Cal's bird, yeah? Sorry mate, I know it weren't scheduled. They was all at Nicks' gaffe and Nicks is the only one wiv a car. Come in all the way from Hounslow West. They're all alright Bill, super cool and rightly chilly. Serious, son." His voice drops quiet. "All briefed, yeah? Everyone swears they won't let on, I told 'em you got some tart who don't know her tits from her arse, and I told 'em you lot are doing her. Dead fucking keen mate, the lot of 'em. Alright having an audience, yeah? Like on the telly, canned laughter and that."

"They can't laugh or jeer or nothing," Billy says. "Kinks man, I never give permission. What about Cyril? He'll go bonkers."

"No mate, no, Nicks couldn't leave 'em, could she? Cause Cal's this mate of hers, they known each other forever man. Into all kinds of weirdies, Nicks is. Fucking cucumbers that lot, cool as, yeah? Speaking of which..."

He tips the lip of his plastic bag. It's heavy and loaded.

"Had a rummage like you told us son."

Billy is looking at Mel and Malcolm. Malcolm seems aghast. Mel tilts her head.

"Had no idea, sorry," Billy says to them.

It's Mel who replies. "I don't know though," she says. "Not such a disaster really, is it? Some audience reaction could spice things up."

"Like the lady says, Bill," Kinks nods.

Billy gets the impression that Malcolm wishes he wasn't there. He keeps blinking back to where Lilly is hidden, in shadow.

Kinks wanders over to his mates. They've standing at a distance, just inside the entrance corridor. They're looking around. They evidently haven't spotted Lilly parked in her corner in flagrante delicto. Nor, Billy thinks, has Kinks.

"Malcolm mate, would you watch the tart?" he asks. "We got to talk to this lot, find out what's up." He says to Mel, "Want to help us talk to them then?"

They go towards the others. Kinks is saying, "Won't be a problem, Billy's cool."

"Is the door shut, Kinks?"

"Took the wedge out. Clicked locked now, son."

Billy nods to spike-haired Nicks. "Let's go in here for a minute," he says. He indicates the changing room.

Mel smiles at everyone and ushers them in. The insides are untidy. Cupboard doors are open, modelling clothes are strewn in tatty heaps. Black and white photos of models hang in cheap wooden frames. There's a faint musty smell of mildewed cloth.

"Yeah," says Billy. "Got to make sure like, bit of a briefing. Only Kinks here never told us you was coming. Just you," he says to Nicks the goth.

"So we just thought we'd give you a briefing," Mel says. "Before... you know."

"Honest, I briefed 'em Billy," says Kinks. "Didn't I, Nicks?"

"The thing is," says Mel, "we really ought to check. You know, such a mixed group."

"We seen loads of spanky stuff at the Garden," Nicks says. Her voice is monotone and nasal. Billy isn't sure he even likes her, his impression from before is, she's kind of thick. She's entirely dressed in black, with pale white skin. Billy has noticed that a lot of goths have too many curves, but this one doesn't. She's skinny, her cheeks seem sallow and sunken, her eyes a bit glazed like she's taken too many sedative drugs. She's not Billy's type at all.

"They all know there's this bird here getting naughties done to her. Everyone's cool, Bill."

"The thing is," Mel says, "well..."

"She don't know her tits from her arse," says Kinks.

Mel blinks. "Well there's that, I suppose."

"You got her jumping through hoops," says Kinks.

"Sounds like a total laugh," Nicks says in her nasal drone.

"Yes. Well that as well, but... here's a hypothetical. What if she's out there and I'm, say, caning her? And she starts to cry. What do you do?"

The lad Cal, who's dressed like he thinks he's a pop star, snorts. "What d'you think we'll do?" he asks. "We'll watch her, won't we?"

Kinks says, "They all know not to interfere, yeah? Expecting more naughties than caning an' all."

"Kinks raided my fridge," says Nicks.

Cal says, "We don't give a fuck, do we Sams?"

This other girl Sammy, Mel sees, is watching silently, just moving her eyes when the others speak. She's been looking at the spilled clothing, flaring her nostrils at the smells, quietly checking out the tacky black and white glamour pictures. She's dressed the most normally of any of them, in a stone washed skirt stopping partway up her thighs, and a tank top with a bright blue interlaced celtic design. She's a natural blonde and looks like she ought to be self-possessed. Right now though, she's being the quiet one.

"The bottom line is," Mel says, "that you might think we're being somewhat cruel to this model. Not just with spanking. It's the genre, yes?"

"Least she thinks it is," Kinks says. "I been telling everyone, you got some tart here who you're fucking up. You're doing her arse and you got her doing dirties. And she don't know her tits from her arse. I told 'em and everyone's cool, they all fancy a gander, don't they?"

"If any of you think you're likely to have a problem though," Mel says, "then it'll be best for everyone if you leave right now. Otherwise you'll just be getting in the way. The thing is, we need updates, and this session has potential to give them to us." Her voice drops to a quieter level. "Your friend here is right," she says. "It's a set-up where the model is pretty green and she doesn't really know what's what. For our purposes though, that's convenient, even if it is a bit cruel. She's doing everything we tell her to, she's agreed to it all, you follow? And right now, we're raking in the footage, and it's really not convenient for that to stop. So it's pretty important that you don't interfere." Mel turns to Billy. "Your friend here... Kinks? He's agreed to man a camera, has he?"

"Mister cameraman, me," says Kinks.

"Billy as well," Mel says, "but that raises a question. I've agreed to appear on camera, in shot, and Billy has as well. What about you?"

"I'm holding it, aren't I?"

"Yes, but what if Billy points his at you?"

"Then I'm in the movie. Whatever."

"Well alright," Mel says, "but what about the rest of you? I suggest, if you don't want to appear in Billy's Uncle's updates, that you stay quietly at the sides, out of the light, and make as little noise as you possibly can. Then if later, you decide that you don't really care, you can come into the light. But like I said, please don't interfere, or if you think you'll have a problem, leave now."

She looks at Nicks. "What?" Nicks asks.

"Are you alright with that?"

"Kinks is going on camera?"

"Apparently her is."

"I don't care neither," she says. "If Kinks is in it, I'll go in it. You want to point a camera at me, Kinks, I'll do it if you do it."

"Good girl," he says.

Mel looks at Cal. He just shrugs.

"What does that mean?" she asks.

"Do what you like, no skin off my nose."

"We don't point any cameras at you?"

"See later," he says.

"Stay on the edge." Mel looks finally at the pretty Sammy.

"I'm not in it," she says.

"Are you sure you're not thinking you might have a problem?"

The girl hesitates, then shakes her head. "No. Fine," she says.

"Sure now? I might end up being rough with the model sometimes. It's not P.C. in here, you follow?"

The girl blinks back.

"I'll be making her do some stuff which is pretty close to the knuckle," Mel says.

"I said fine, didn't I?" Sammy sounds defensive now.

"Like, very unfeminist. Humiliating even."

The girl shrugs, quite sharply, like she doesn't like being picked out from the crowd.

"Well, OK. But don't come complaining when it's everything I just said, alright? In fact, same goes for all of you. The film's got to be how the film's got to be, and I'm going to be... well, quite firm with the girl sometimes. Just remember it's just how this one's got to be. Oh and one more little point. The other feller out there, he doesn't appear on camera, OK? He's here for technical reasons, so don't get in his way."

Billy lets them out. "Best sit over there on that worktop," he says.

"Think they'll be alright?" Mel asks him when they've filed away.

"Fuck knows," Billy says.

"Your mate Kinks has dropped us in it."

"I could fucking kill him."

"Right," Mel says. "But... well, why not just use it? Like I said before, it's that extra frisson. And let's say the girl feels disgust... what then? Do we change our behaviour? Because frankly, I don't plan to."

***

Malcolm is fazed. Four more people? What the hell are they doing here? He's already taking enough of a career risk, and he fancies that he might one day make proper movies... might appear in interviews, on DVD extras. Four more people who've seen him involved with smut like this is four more people to spoil his party. He hardly wants to look at them, to show them his face. Especially the blond girl, she looks so... normal. How the hell is she attached to Billy's scruffy, lank-haired friend? The goth girl he dismisses almost immediately, she looks too thick to cause problems like that. But the other lad, the one wearing the leather cap and posing clothes, and especially the blond girl... why are they here?

"Malcolm mate, would you watch the tart? We got to talk to this lot, find out what's up."

Billy, next to him, goes towards the people standing by the entrance corridor. For a moment Malcolm imagines himself just packing up his things and leaving.

"Let's go in here for a minute," Billy says from the other side of the room.

They're all going into the changing room, even Mel. They're leaving him alone. If he wants to leave, now is his perfect moment.

The changing room door clunks shut. He stands watching it. He can't believe, in a way, that none of them appeared to spot the girl. He blinks at their door. He bites a lip, trying to remember where he's put down his coat and his bag. He's looking around the room. He sees the shadow of the girl, hidden in the corner. He's pacing towards her, as silently as he can. He stands there looking. He's sure she can't see him.

Oh God, his erection is rising, it short circuits his business brain. He hears her whimper. He sees her hands are having trouble holding on to their grip, they've slipped sideways with the strain. Her thigh-backs are trembling terribly now. He feels himself swallow. The girl dips her hips, once, twice, three times, then shudders them up and down, trying to shake the pain out of her bladder. Dear God, it's so dirty. She has no idea he's looking at her. Her movements are in no way meant to make him lust like this. They're a product of pain, of suffering, of the gross humiliation she's being forced to suffer. He licks his lips. He imagines inserting himself inside her. She performs her desperation dance. It's unconsciously dirty, but dirty nonetheless.

He bends down and silently pauses first one camera, then the second.

"They're talking in the changing room."

The girl freezes in the middle of her dance.

"I know it must seem harsh," he says.

He walks in close, almost directly behind her spread backside.

"It won't last forever. Look," he says, "I think I should tell you... I don't mean it personally. I know Mel has said that, but I wanted to say it myself as well. These things do seem quite harsh sometimes. A little bit... you know... humiliating. It's not personal, you understand? It's not about you. You're a cypher, a stand-in for ex-girlfriends. Divorced wives. Girls who rejected us. You're helping us feel good about our general fear of women. Not personal, you understand?"

He sighs.

"Not specifically about you, you know. You're just... the one who's here. Look, I think... well, don't feel bad, but your... well, your grip is slipping. Here."

He touches her right wrist. She jerks, a squeak escapes her throat. He lifts it away. He turns, puts his left haunch against her left side, slightly facing away. He takes a grip on her full, cane-striped bum cheek. Brings his right arm around the front of her body and grips her left wrist. With his left, he's kneading her buttock, with his right he pulls her wrist firmly backwards so her arm is strongly stretched. He does as Mel did, squeezing her buttock upwards and outwards, pulling the flesh between her legs apart. Then he clamps her hand down to hold it in place.

High pitched whimpers escape her. Her thighs begin trembling crazily.

"You're such a good girl," he says. "We're all very grateful really."

He shifts his position to its mirror on the girl's other haunch. Takes her wrist, pulls it away. He places his hand on her inner thigh. He's surprised at how cold her flesh seems. His fingers slide sideways and cradle her mound. Dragging upwards, they take a strong grip on her second buttock. This time when he kneads, he also squeezes the flesh together. He pinches it, drags it. Lets go, takes a new grip, pulls again. Pulls it strongly sideways in more moves than one, scooping, dragging, gripping more to stretch her as wide as he can. He strongly pulls her wrist and clamps her hand down on the cheek.

He glances at the door. It's still closed. Then he smacks her pudenda. Lilly startles. He looks back at the door, shocked by the sound his hand has made, but the door stays firmly shut.

He smacks again, harder. "Good girl," he says. Then he does it once more.

16: Kinks talks Nicks into giving him a ride; Kinks and Co get to the studio

Why is the woman picking on her? She's not picking on Cal or the Nicks girl. Sammy's clamped her jaw tight. She wishes Cal had just said no, she barely knows what she's doing here. She's not even sure she likes Nicks, Cal's friend, she just finds her annoying, only Cal insisted on coming with her and Nicks seemed dead keen to go with this weird bloke Kinks.

She wasn't even sure about Cal at first. That first night, yes, she was kind of smitten. But she thought the clothes were just for the performance, maybe for the clubs. Then he showed up in them in the middle of the day. Does he really have to wear them all the time? Her friend Victoria knew him that night in the pub, that's why they went. And when he sang he did sound like a proper pop star, like he knew what he was doing. Open Mic Night yes, but he was better than anyone else, she thought. She was flattered when he showed interest in her. Cal the performer. He looked at her when he sang one of his songs, she barely even caught the words. His eyes fixed on her so long she had to look away. When she looked back up his gaze had moved on, but he came to their table afterwards. She asked Victoria what she thought of him.

"Brilliant," Victoria said. "Oh God yeah he's a bit gorgeous, isn't he Sams?"

She's seen him a few times since. He's OK in bed. A bit self-obsessed at first like he seemed to think she should fall at his feet, but she wasn't having that. Then he calmed down when she didn't give him encouragement, and he started giving as well as taking. Then later when he slept, she thought she was falling for him. With the lights out and his attitude evaporated, he looked so sweet and boyish.

"Come and meet my mate Nicks, and we'll go to a club late on."

The long haul down the endless Piccadilly line. Nicks shares this flat with a couple of girls and their mothers mustn't have taught them how to clean. A health hazard of a kitchen, dirty pots and pans dumped any which way on the worktops, disgusting. Nicks' room is not much better, but Cal seems at home and kicks off his shoes. She's never seen him this relaxed.

Kinks shows up unannounced an hour or so later. Lank-haired and frankly weird, he looks like he's done too many drugs in his teens. He seems taken aback at Sammy and Cal though.

"Nicks, I need a ride. I'm boracic babes, got no money. Billy needs us. From the Garden, yeah? It's urgent, darling."

"Cal's here," Nicks says.

Kinks stands in the doorway, half in and half out. He's got half a dozen crappy rings on his fingers and looks like he's self-tattooed his knuckles. Sammy squints at him then peers at Nicks. She can see the attraction. They're both as weird as each other, she reckons.

"No I mean it babes, I got no coin."

"I got my best friend here!"

Kinks squats down and talks quietly into her ear. Sammy only catches snippets.

"Bill needs a geezer on camera, darling."

Cal's turns round to Sammy and asks, "How you doing babes?"

"Fine," she says.

"Like I showed you," Kinks says, "that site... yeah?"

"Long trip down, weren't it? From out west. That Piccadilly line's fucked, Sams."

"It was fine," says Sammy.

Nicks asks her bloke, "I dunno what site."

"You cool then, Sams?" Cal asks. "Not pining for the fjords?"

"You said, yeah? Brilliant, yeah?"

"Nicks is alright, isn't she?" says Cal.

Sammy wishes he'd just shut up. He's ignored her since he got here, now the minute Nicks isn't looking at him, he wants her attention instead.

"You'd like it babes," Kinks tells his weird girlfriend. "That dom side around girlies. Give that a go, yeah babes?"

"Cal," Nicks says loudly, "Kinks wants to go to his mate's place."

"Yeah, cool," says Cal.

"Only he wants me to drive him. Some girl's getting her arse whacked by Kinks' mate Billy."

"No, babes," Kinks tries to say, "don't..."

"Some bird's what?" Cal asks.

"Sounds like a laugh," Nicks says in her monotone. "They're filming this girl."

"Caning her," Kinks says with a twisted grin and an awkward nod.

Cal snorts. "His mate's caning some bird? Fucking hell Nicks, what? You hear that, Sammy? Fucking hell."

"Only I ain't leaving Cal behind," Nicks says to Kinks. "He's my best mate from school."

"Yeah," says Kinks. "Only Billy, like..."

"Sounds like a laugh, dunnit?" Nicks says without inflection to Cal.

Cal snorts again. He looks at Sammy. "What think, Sams? Bet you never seen some bird getting her arse whacked."

"You wanna go then, Cal?" Nicks asks.

"No babes," Kinks says

Cal laughs. "Fucking hell," he says. "More than we bargained for eh, Sams?"

Nicks says, "Cal and Sams can come as well, can't they? Cause it ain't fair if they can't."

"Thing is," Kinks says, "it's Billy's Uncle. He don't want me around."

Nicks asks, "Billy's uncle? What's some uncle got to do wiv it? How comes you're going?"

"Well he ain't there, is he? The uncle, it's his gaffe. Billy says he needs me, it's my in."

"Well if he ain't there, what's the problem?"

"Billy," Kinks says.

"If he wants you on camera and I'm giving you a ride, he'll have to take Cal and Sams."

"Yeah... It's not just him, there's other crew. There's the girl having it done."

Nicks says, "She'll be busy with her arse on fire. Besides, models want to be looked at, don't they?"

"I dunno babes."

"Well I ain't even driving if Cal can't come."

Cal takes Sammy's hand.

"And Sams is with Cal, yeah?"

Kinks is cornered. He says to Cal, "You want to come for a look-see then?"

"What d'you think, Sams?" Cal asks the girl.

She shrugs. "What do you want?"

Cal shakes his neck loose and rotates his shoulders. "Sounds like a laugh to me," he says.

Sammy stays silent. She wishes Cal would drop her hand.

"Down to your Sams then," Nicks says to Cal.

They're all looking at her. She's not sure what she thinks. She shakes her hand away from Cal's. She shrugs. "If everyone wants to."

"MIght be quite hard though," Kinks says.

They just look at him.

"Might be naughties as well. Like, Billy says this bird don't know too much."

"So?" says Nicks.

"Yeah," says Kinks. "Listen, Nicks..." He puts his head close. He whispers something.

"What?" Nicks says.

Sammy hears, "Amma kit."

"Say it proper."

"Fucking enema kit, Nicks. Billy says bring your enema kit."

"Your what kit?" asks Cal.

"Enema kit," Nicks says without apparent embarrassment.

"Can we look in your fridge?" Kinks asks.

"You what?"

"Fridge, babes."

"Do wherever you want," Nicks says pulling a face.

"I need a plastic bag, babes."

"So?' She shrugs.

"Where would I find a plastic bag, Nicks?"

"I don't fucking know, do I?" says Nicks.

***

The car ride is uncomfortable. She's crammed in the back with Kinks because Nicks insists on Cal riding shotgun.

"He's my friend, he's come down to see me," she says nasally. Cal accepts both accolade and seat.

It gets worse when Kinks has to lean forward to direct his girlfriend, which seems to be the case for most of the ride. The car is so noisy Sammy can barely hear what anyone's saying. Just Kinks' directions and arguments with Nicks about how to get around the congestion charge. Sammy spends a lot of time looking at the back of Kinks' untidy head. She sees with ungenerous satisfaction that the middle of his limp locks has a small, spreading bald patch. She could ruin his day by pointing it out.

They get caught in traffic. There's nothing to look at, just dreary damp streets, pedestrians hugging buildings to try and stay dry, tail ends of lorries. It's cold in the back since, despite the crappy weather, Cal insists on having his window open, and Nicks' car doesn't seem to have heating. They grind around the edge of the city. Sammy watches the buildings outside getting poorer, the shops cheaper. Then finally Nicks is parking, off the main road in a terraced street. Cal gives Sammy a minute of attention while Nicks and Kinks fiddle in the boot, then they're off tramping the backs streets. Sammy doesn't think she'd feel safe here on her own. She doesn't have a clue where she is.

Her sense of insecurity gets suddenly worse when Kinks leads down a dark, fetid alley between buildings at the corner of two back streets. It looks like the sort of place tramps might piss in. Rubbish sacks line the edge. The alley bends, then at the end there are a two black doors. One's even propped open.

"This is it,"  says Kinks.

He takes out the door wedge to let it shut, then leads them in, down another short corridor lined with tacky page three style glamour shots. They emerge into a larger room. Here, bright lights illuminate a group of three: a woman in her early thirties, a lad about Kinks' age, a tall balding older man dressed smart casual and dark. Sammy can't see any model.

"Just too cruel?" the tall man asks.

The lad seems to giggle. Sammy hears, "Cruel, yeah." Then, "Fucking funny."

Kinks is jumping forwards towards them. "What's cruel?" he asks. He pounces on the lad and rubs his knuckles into his hair.

They all get shuffled into the messy changing room and lectured by the lad and the woman. Sammy is still annoyed that it's she who's been singled out. Why do they think she'll have the problem, not anyone else?

They file back out when the woman's said her piece. The tall baldy bloke who wasn't in the meeting seems to jerk when they emerge. He looks guilty, like some secret has just been discovered, but all Sammy can see is that he must have been fetching something from this messy corner.

The four of them, Kinks and Nicks, Cal and herself, just aimlessly drift towards some worktops near the lights. Sammy doesn't feel welcome, doesn't feel at ease, and isn't really clear what she's going to see.

Nicks asks, "When's it happening then?"

"Dunno babe," Kinks says.

The balding bloke is taking a wire off the floor and wrapping it in repeated loops. Mel goes past and mumbles something to him. He's got a long face anyway, made longer because, apparently, he's not happy either. She even lip-reads the words, "Not happy."

"They're just kids," Mel says.

He mutters, "Yeah. Well."

"Look, we've got to get on. Haven't we? We go with the situation that presents itself."

And off she trundles to the secret corner where baldy bloke was looking so guilty before. A minute later, the Billy lad follows.

"Might be where they've got the bird," says Kinks.

"Alright, darling?" Cal says to Sammy. He's sat himself up on the worktop beside her. "Bit cold in here, innit?"

He leans around her to give her a kiss. She lets him, but she's not really responding.

He says, "Nicks is into weird stuff sometimes. Fuck knows if this'll be a laugh or not. We can always piss off if it gets to be a drag."

"Thanks," she says.

"Yeah," he says.

17: Mel invokes the model release; Lilly is shown to Kinks and Co

Mel looks at the girl. She's come up behind her quietly. Lilly is still in her pose, but she's clearly suffering. There's a constant trembling in the girl's right knee. She's bobbing her hips down every few seconds, apparently in bladder pain, like she's trying to jerk the pain away.

All to be expected, Mel thinks. But Lilly's fingers, if anything, appear to be pulling her wider, which surprises Mel, since the sheer length of time since Mel put her in her pose ought to have weakened the girl's grip by now.

Mel luxuriates in gazing at Lilly's exposed undercarriage. She's seen some girls looking so ragged down here. But Lilly is the opposite. Her arse cheeks may be big and full, but the kit between her legs is fresh and neat. Her labia has parted squarely to reveal pink, glistening flesh, which frames a clearly defined clitoris and a tiny gaping urethral hole. The vagina is also opened up to the air, with a dark space the shape of an outlined wild rose. The distinct ridge of the girl's perineum is bunched above, making a twin edged isthmus between vagina and anus. The latter is spreading slightly, showing a clean pink entrance to a still sealed cavern.

Billy approaches close behind Mel. "Malcolm's nearly ready by the look of it," he says. "We gonna get the bird back out on her spot?"

Lilly has tensed at the sound of his voice. Mel places a hand high down on the girl's hips. "Are we ready to carry on soon, darling?"

"There's people out there," Lilly moans.

"Oh,'" says Mel. "You heard them, then?"

"Oh my God," says Lilly. "There are. Oh my God."

"Well... alright. But in a sense, so what?" says Mel. "We've already got plenty of tape we could release. Which could probably be seen by many thousands. Millions, for all I know."

Lilly's sounding so pathetic. She says, "Please, I don't want to. I don't want to go out there." She says the next words quietly. "I just need a wee."

Mel sighs loudly. "Well you know that's impossible Lilly," she says. "What was all of that effort for if you're just so prepared to piss it all away?"

Billy's picking up his camera off a chair. A second camera is on the floor behind Lilly, looking up between her legs. Billy checks the stock in the first one. There's still time left to run. He's recording their talk with the camera hand held now.

"Please. Please let me wee first, then I'll think about going out again..."

Mel just tuts. She says, "Absolutely not. You can put that one straight out of your mind."

"I can't go out. It hurts."

"It'll take your mind off it once I start to use the cane again."

There's a pause. Lilly doesn't change her pose. But when she speaks, she says, "No. I won't, I can't. Not in front of all different people, it isn't fair. It's not right. You can't make me do it."

Mel looks at Billy, then back at the girl. "There's no use whining. You have to," she says, "you know you do."

"No. You can't make me."

"Think my Uncle might say different," says Billy. "She signed," he says to Mel.

Mel says, "Quite. Of course."

She motions to Billy to turn off his camera. He does it, then pauses the one by the floor.

"Problem is, lovely," Mel says, "that paper you signed. The model release? You see, Billy's Uncle - he's not that nice really. Something of a hard-nosed business man. He's spent a lot of time and effort building up this company. And from what I understand, things have not been going well. So when one of is employees agrees to something, then refuses to produce... well he's not best pleased these days. Is he, Bill?"

"Thing is," Billy says, "I faxed him the contract."

"He'll have filed it by now. And the real problem, darling, is the money he's already forked out for today. He'll want to get it back, you can bet your bottom dollar. You're not aware, I expect, of just how much preparation goes into these things. And the thing is, with that contract signed... well he's got every right to come after you for it. When you signed it, you see, you agreed to provide some specific services. And frankly, I doubt if it says you should only provide them just when you feel like it, lovely. My God, I should know. Us models have to work in all sorts of conditions. Posing for photographers in studios, that's the absolute least. Demonstrations for investors, that one took me by surprise. I'm professional though, so I just get down and do the bloody thing. I've done this sort of thing in pretty big conferences. At private shows. I've had to pose on a farm in front of a herd of bloody cows. Posed in a shop window with a crowd gathered round."

Billy looks at her quizzically. "Have you?" he mouths.

She shakes her head. "Course not." To Lilly she says out loud, "Try getting caned in front of a crowd of jeering, drunken football fans. I've posed outdoors on a public street. Full frontal as well, and you try legging it from police with a dildo up your twat. For God's sake Lilly, this is absolutely nothing. These people out there, do you know why they're here? We needed to replace Clive when he walked, remember? So Billy's friend has kindly agreed to stand in for the fool. And he needed a ride. His ride was entertaining two other friends. They all agreed to come and give him some moral support. And you as well, lovely, in case you hadn't realised it. So that's who's here, four more people more or less your age who have to a one come here to help. I'd have thought you'd be glad of an audience, frankly. Most girls your age are desperate to be famous, or so I'd thought. Isn't that right?"

"Not doing this..." Lilly's barely audible when she speaks this time.

"Oh for fuck's sake," says Mel, "we're not asking much, are we? Just swallow your pride and do the bloody work you've signed up for. Because in case you hadn't noticed, when you work, you get paid. If you get on some ludicrous high horse instead, what happens next is Billy's Uncle coming after you for compensation. Breach of bloody contract, darling. And if you can't pay him... for the full production expenses mark you darling, my wages, Billy's here, all the preparation costs, the stock, the camera hire, the studio costs, the loss of revenue when they run out of updates... When you can't pay, which you presumably won't be able to, he'll be tapping on your mother's front door."

Lilly's head freezes.

"My mum?" she asks.

"Of course," says Mel. "Just cause you can't pay up doesn't mean he'll stop looking for his money back. Who else would he try?"

"My mum can't know. Please. She can't, she just can't. She can't know, not ever."

"You don't want her to know? Then you'd better buck your bloody ideas up, honey. Bite the bullet. Do the work. And please, stop all this pathetic whining."

***

It looks like something's happening. Nicks is sat up on the worktop next to Cal, with Cal's bird Sammy on his other side, knees to her chest. Kinks is in front of Nicks. She's got fingertips touching his untidy locks.

The baldy bloke stops fiddling with wires on the floor and goes to the corner where Kinks' mate Billy and that woman disappeared. She can see his shiny round crown poking up from between these tall leaning boards.

"What's in there, Kinks?"

"Dunno," he says.

"Props and sets," Sammy says.

Nicks looks sideways at her, past Cal, who's stuck his shades back on. She's not sure how much she likes Cal's bird. "How do you know that then?"

"All those tall boards, they're backdrops. Like sets in a theatre. It's a storage area, it's obvious."

Obvious, is it? Hoity-toity cow. Nicks looks back towards the corner. Now the bald bloke's coming with a camera in his hands and trailing a mains wire. He gets close. He looks awkward, like he's trying not to face them directly. She doesn't know why, she's never spotted his ugly mug before.

"You're going to be using a camera, yes?"

The bloke's asked this of Kinks. Kinks shrugs and pushes off towards him. The tall bloke walks away. He starts lecturing Kinks with his back to them.

"Thought something was properly happening, me."

Cal goes, "Nah. Drag this, innit Nicks?"

"Dunno yet," she says. "What do you think, Sammy?"

Cal answers for her. "Easy you, aren't you Sams? Sams don't mind long as she's with me, yeah?"

Nicks looks. Sammy's turned her head away. Nicks can't see her expression. Out in front, Kinks is nodding. He's got the camera in his hand. He's pointing it around.

"Here, Nicks," he calls, "come out here a mo." He's nodding his head back, inviting her over. She slides off the worktop.

"Nicks don't mind being in picture, do you babes?"

"Don't point it at me though," the baldy bloke says. Or your friends over there. Its just polite. We could edit it out, but it's best if we don't have to."

"Look at the camera babes," Kinks says to her. "Give us a kiss."

Nicks puckers her mouth up towards his lens.

"Show us your tits, babes."

Nicks lifts half her upper lip. Kinks starts to walk around her.

"Steady as you can," says the tall bloke. "Every little jerk could mean more useless footage. If you imagine there's a line... a pole if you like, coming out from the lens. The further away the subject is, the longer the pole. Each time you twitch the camera, you're twitching the pole, so a tiny twitch at this end makes a great big jerk at the other end. Twitch here, jerk there. So keep it as still as you can, alright? Move your body instead of turning your head, it all helps to cushion."

"Oh yeah right," says Kinks. To his girlfriend he says, "Show us your knicks, Nicks," as he sinks his body down behind her black-clad bum. The most she does is hook her thumbs inside a belt tie.

"Watch the readout too, in the viewfinder. There's two hours of tape. We'll swap the tapes in all three cameras before we get there. Anyway, stand here till that happens. If your girlfriend would like to go back, the model will be coming out from the corner. Just keep your camera trained on her. Don't do anything elaborate. Simple shot, caught from where you are. he master shot.

"You want me going back, yeah?"

If you would, says the man. He's posh as well, Nicks thinks. She goes back and hitches herself up on the worktop.

She says to Cal, "Model's in that corner apparently. Where Sams thinks it's props or whatever."

They look in that direction again.

"Slow though, innit?" Cal says to Nicks.

"Yeah," she says, "I know."

Then the tall git makes picks up a camera from a tripod and moves halfway round the back of the studio. He pauses, checks the camera's leads, then looks to the corner. He nods, then makes a signal, like he's waving out a lorry. The three of them look from him to Kinks to the backdrops corner. The next movement is Billy. He's holding his camera low, crouching as he backs out into the room. Then Mel's head is visible. She's standing tall, walking very slowly.

This shape comes out just in front of Mel. Nicks can't make it out since that side of the room is almost in shadow. It's low, lower than BIlly, and it seems to be coming on three legs, not two. Waddling like a duck.

Sammy is lifting her hand to her mouth.

"What is it?" asks Cal. His shades are still lowered.

"What the fuck?" mouths Nicks.

It's a girl, she can see now. Bent double. Head down. Waddling backwards. Where's her arms? The figure stops, starts to turn round. The Mel woman puts her hand on her back.

"Don't bother with that, just go backwards," she says.

There's a pause. The bent figure starts rotating back again.

"And for fuck's sake lovely," the woman says. "Can we please get on? Come on, faster."

Another short pause.

"Move it!" says the Mel bitch.

Then this awful crouched thing is lumbering towards them, blind and backwards. It clumps into the light.

"Oh my God," mutters Sammy.

Nicks glances at Cal. His glasses are up now, held against his forehead. Kinks is doing his new job, standing looking into his camera. Billy's gone round to the front of the girl.

She's coming towards them, blatantly ridiculous. Nicks has never imagined such a thing. The girl's hands are behind, like they're glued to her backside. The first thing they're seeing of this girl is her arse. Spread so wide the flesh of her cheeks are  squashed wide to the sides. Nicks can even see her tits dangling down, right between her legs.

"Oh my God," whispers Sammy.

"What a fucking state," says Cal.

The figure half trips as it clumps its way towards them. It barely recovers.

"Right, stop," says Mel crisply. "Forward, lovely. Good. Go to the side. Back again." She looks up at the others. "How's she doing? Back in place?"

"Off her mark," says Billy.

"Yeah. Right. Alright lovely, I need you to come forwards again. Alright, come on. No don't just stop. Did I tell you to stop? I say come forwards, just come and keep coming. Alright stop. Now shuffle to your right. Bit more, yeah, and stop! Now good, go back when I say, and, lovely? Don't hang about this time, I want you doing everything fast now, alright? Right, now... go backwards!"

The girl looks so stupid. Bent, spread, clumping too fast, being treated like a thing not a person. Nicks looks at her friends again.  Sammy seems like she wants to be sick, Cal's face is frozen with its mouth half open.

The woman makes the stupid girl go forwards and backwards another two times. Then she finally lets her stand on these marks. She refers to an image on a camera she's holding. She bends and moves the girl's feet with her hands. She seems to be getting her into some special shape from the photograph. Feet pointing together more, hips a bit up.

"How's she looking at the back? Same as before?"

"More or less, yeah," says Billy.

"Jolly good," says the woman. "Now, where was I?"

18: Sammy's view; Nicks' view

Sammy's knuckles are in her mouth. She expected something, but never this. She doesn't know what she feels, isn't sure what she's supposed to think. She just stares, jaw open, as the girl lumbers along like some prehistoric monster.

She looks to the side at her boyfriend. Cal has stuck one foot up beside him on the worktop and he's leaned his head back so its crown touches the wall. He's tipped up his sunglasses.

Sammy's not sure when she picked it up, but the woman Mel is holding this massive long cane. She's pretending to swish it, but for show, Sammy thinks, for the sound of the thing. She never believed Nicks' bloke Kinks when he said they'd be seeing some poor girl get the cane. She thought it was just something he was saying because of his stupid name, as a joke. Actually she thought he was called Kinks because Cal's thick goth friend was called Nicks. Nicks and Kinks, ha ha. But this... the cameras and that wierd balding bloke and that pathetic girl making an utter tit of herself. Exposed like that, demeaned like that.

The cane swishes again. Will she really hit the girl with it? Sammy thinks she can see cane marks already on the stupid girl's arse and even on her thigh tops.

"So if you must insist on touching your arse, at least do us a favour and do it like that."

It's the Mel woman speaking, apparently to the stupid girl. The girl's head jerks but she doesn't speak.

"Well?" asks the woman. "What have you got to say for yourself?"

Still no response. So the woman touches her cane to the back of the girl's right thigh. She flicks the cane in. Not hard, Sammy thinks, just little taps.

"Speak up," the woman says.

"What?"

"Speak, girl, what have you got to say for yourself?"

"I don't know," says the girl. It's barely a whisper, her voice sounds strained and cracked.

"You don't know. Well that's enlightening. Go on, get your hands off."

Again there's confused hesitation from the girl. The woman puts her hands over the girl's. She vibrates them in place, apparently trying to pull the girl wider, though Sammy barely thinks that's possible. She's filled with revulsion at the sight of the girl's stretched private parts. It's a cruel reversion of convention. What should be hidden and private, spread like butter over bread.

"Hands... off."

The bitch woman drags the girl's hands to the sides, still pressing them into the flesh as she does so. She keeps this going right to the edges of the girl's great wide cheeks, then finally the girl's hands are off. The bitch lets them go. all this has loosened the model's skirt where it's been rolled out of the way under her belt. The woman holds it up out of the way, then she quickly spanks the model's right arse cheek, bringing her hand in with its fingers facing down in big meaty slaps so they jerk the girl forwards. Sammy sees that the stupid model has just left her own hands where the bitch released them. The bitch responds by grabbing her wrists one at a time and pulling them down towards the floor.

She says, "Come on lovely, you know the routine."

She stands back. Whips the cane back and forth so it waves in the air, whistling. Sammy thinks she'll cane the girl now. She doesn't seem bothered that the skirt had slipped down over her cheeks. The woman stands back, takes aim. And canes.

She's really hit her with it, hit her over the skirt, hit her harder than Sammy ever expected. She stares, and the woman does it again. Lifts this fat long cane right back  over her head and whips it down hard. It's got to have hurt the girl, she can see it has by the way the girl's arms have jerked and started to go back to defend herself.

Sammy looks at Cal, to see how he's reacting. Cal has tipped his sunglasses up and out of the way. He's still got his head back against the wall but he's definitely watching. The cane makes another thud and see sees him mouth the words, "Fucking what?"

Another crack. Cal glances once at Sammy, then the cane cracks again and he's looking back. She's close enough though that when he whispers a comment, she can hear it quite clearly.

"Christ," he says at one point. At another point, he sucks through his teeth. When he glances at Sammy, she thinks she sees glee. It's fleeting though, then his eyes have dived back. There's another mighty crack and Sammy hears the model groaning, sucking breath in sharply.

"Go it, girl," she thinks Cal whispers. Two strokes later, he looks up again. Whatever expression is on Sammy's face, he doesn't seem to see it. He's all glee, hidden laughter. "Fucking what, eh, Sams?"

A minute later she swears she hears, "Fucking hit her, girl."

She stares at him with her eyes pointed sideways. He's flipped his shades down once again though. Sammy looks back to Mel and the girl. The three cameras are circling like vultures. The model's pain is obvious. The model looks to Sammy quite unutterably stupid. Why's she letting them do this to her? Mel turns her back on the audience, cracks a stroke in right under the model's skirt, right on her legs. It looks like it's just caused excruciating pain. The model bends her knees, clenches her hands and moans, "Fucking bloody hell."

Cal has tapped his goth friend's shoulder. He says, "Fuck, Nicks, what?"

"What a stupid cunt," whispers Nicks.

Another crack. Sammy notices Cal's hands clutching, making quiet fists. It reminds her of a football supporter, each crack accompanied by a faint little clenching.

"Christ, I bet that hurt," he mutters. To Sammy, he says, "Poor fucker, eh?"

Mel has flipped Lilly's skirt back up. She takes the girl's twisted white knickers and pulls them sharply up. The pants spread taut across bum cheeks. Mel stands back, flexes the cane, then peppers faster shots into the newly stretched white. Capricious, flicking her aim around. But even though the strokes are lighter, the length of the cane means they still must be hurting. Then the woman steps even further back, takes aim, and powers in a big one.

The girl staggers forward. When she stops, she looks, if possible, even more awkward. Billy, Kinks' mate, is up close to her face. Another crack, another stagger, and he has to jump back to stop her hitting his camera. It's her stupid position, Sammy thinks, it's not taking much to make the girl lose her balance. So why doesn't she change it? Why's she letting them do this to her anyway? Sammy can barely believe what she's seeing.

The bitch is slapping the girl's arse with her hand now. Not taps either, big, meaty, upper body thumps. Sammy sees in the woman's face that she's getting off on doing this. Breathing through her nose, mouth pressed tight, a lopsided half smile imprinted under the strain of the exercise. She grunts with the effort like a tennis player. She doesn't seem to show any empathy for the model. She grabs a handful of elastic which pulls the girl's knickers up and skew-if, so half her arse cheeks are exposed again. The girl is looking pretty red back there.

"Stand up!" says the bitch. "Go on, take off your skirt!"

The girl is all hesitation and twitches. She stands, knees not quite straight, darting stressed looks behind at the audience. Her hands are shaking as she tries to open the clasps of her skirt.

The bitch is going, "Come on, come on."

The skirt comes off. Then the tall bloke, the posh one with the monk's baldy head, has a quiet word with her.

Next thing, the girl's having to put the bloody skirt back on again, then she's back bent over with the woman spanking her arse, skirt flipped up. This time when she tells her to take the thing off, she's chivvying her to do it faster. The girl's hands are shaking like leaves, Sammy sees. The bitch makes it worse by cracking in the cane, high up on the girl's backside.

"Get on with it!" she's saying.

So off it comes again... they cane her... and again they make her put it back on. This time, the bitch is going at the girl almost from the moment she tries to stand up. Another high one. The girl spasms, hands quaking and inoperative, trying to protect herself by tiny twists of her hips, staggers of her feet, jerks of her wrists and arms. One side of her knickers are right up her bum crack. She looks so pathetic.

"Why they keep making her do it over?" Nicks is asking Cal.

"Dunno doll," he says. "What a laugh though, eh?"

On the floor, the woman says, "Hold the skirt out."

The model does so. The bitch cracks the cane into her upper arse. The girl convulses her arms back defensively.

Mel goes, "Do it again, hold it out. With both hands."

The stupid girl does this. The woman cracks her arse, cane stretched full length and whipped it in at speed. Again, the model jerks her arms back.

"Keep them stuck out! Don't cover with your arse with your hands like that or I'll just get them with the cane. Another crack on the knuckles you don't want to feel."

She make her do this three more times, and each time the stupid model gets the cane hammered into her upper arse cheeks.

It's the woman's face which is most shocking Sammy. When she canes the girl like this, she's showing the effort, clearly putting in some power, but her look changes just as the cane strikes home. There's gleeful satisfaction spreading underneath her tensed facial muscles. The way she moves her legs as well, Sammy guesses that there's more going on than just heavy breathing. Her hips move oddly, like there's friction with material in sensitive places. She's causing this pathetic girl suffering and it's obvious to Sammy that it's turning her on.

***

Bell End, fuck. If she'd known it was going to be Bell End she'd have called her mates from school. Lilly Bell End Bellman, she's sure it's her. The older kids used to take the piss. Bell End, that's what they called her, and it's obvious why. What is she, two years older or three? No it's two, she's nearly sure, same year as that Carol Pearson who went out with Chigger for a bit.

Here comes that Mel again, doing a voice like some woman boss off the telly, that actress, what's her name? Making her pull her knickers up and stick her skirt back on. At least we've not got to look at her arsehole any more. Oh my God I've seen Bell End's arsehole.

Here comes Kinks with his camera, he looks really funny. Only why's he looking at Cal's Sammy like that, what the fuck's she to him? Wet blanket, that's what mum would have called her. Girls who look like her, they're so stuck-up, they really think they're somebody. What's Cal doing with her? He's with her because he can have her, because Cal's so cool he can have anyone.

There Kinks goes again, looking at bloody Sammy like he's asking her permission. Mel telling the girl to get on with it, oh fuck look at Bell End's hands! Christ she can hardly control them, what a state! Trying to get that belt done up, oh my God. Oh fuck, and that Mel's cracked her in the arse again to make her go faster! Stupid Lilly Bell End just does everything she tells her, like she thinks she's her friend and she's doing her a favour. Anyone can see she's just taking the piss, ripping it straight out of her.

Stupid cow can't get the buckle done up and here comes big Mel fucking hammering her, telling her to go again. Here it comes off again, now stupid Lilly's just standing there shaking, holding her skirt in one hand with just them stupid big white knickers on, while Mel just wallops her! Learn to do things quicker, she's going, only she can't, can she? This is really funny, she's so fucking terrified she can't make her hands stop shaking.

Do it again, put it on again. She's snivelling like a baby now, sniffing the snot back up her nose. Christ, the look on that Sammy's face, looks like she'll burst a blood vessel. Cal's just snorting, he's so fucking cool.

I could do Bell End. I could do her in front of them, in front of my Kinks, he'll think it's really funny. In front of Cal. Make Cal laugh, make him do that snort he's doing. If Sammy doesn't like it, Cal can just tell her to fuck right off. Tell Bell End to do whatever I feel like, then cane her with that big fat cane till she can't stand up. Do it on her legs so it really hurts.

Kinks and Cal could piss on her, I'd even do it myself if they was watching. Drink loads of beer and every time we needed a piss, we could send her to the toilet and do it on her. Cause I wouldn't mind Kinks doing her, not if I was there as well, not if I'm telling him what to do. Cal can do it as well. I bet he's got a really nice thing. He could do her up her arse then make her suck it, stick it all round her mouth and in her nose and on her eyes and she'll have to just like it tasting of shit.

I'm going to do her, ask that Mel if I can do her, they said they don't mind me going on camera. I can do her like in them pictures Kinks likes, them pictures of girls with their tits all tied up and swollen and going purple, ballooning he calls it. Tie her tits to one of them bars in the ceiling then stick a gag in her mouth so she can't make that stupid moaning noise. Her big dirty tits holding her in place so my Kinks and Cal can do her however they want.

Mel's just brilliant the way she's got her acting like that, she ain't even got to tie her up, oh my God what's she telling her? Oh my God she's making her think it's her fault, and Stupid Lilly Bell End just believes her! Here she goes again now, got her skirt off, holding it out. Mel mashing her cane into Bell End's massive arse. Bell End, what a state. It's her, I know it, it's got to be her. Oh my God I know where she lives, where her mum's got that shop. Cal's got to recognise her, I've got to ask him after. Bell End, oh my fucking God what a state.

19: Kinks and Co huddle, Mel and Co huddle; Lilly in a retake or Lilly in practice?

"What do you think?" Mel asks Malcolm.

His face pops up over his camera. "About what?"

"You know," says Mel. "Continuity. All that bollocks. How's it all looking?"

Malcolm motions her away from the others. He waves Billy over too. Billy puts his camera on the ground, pointing up at the trembling Lilly. Kinks starts walking round her. He points his camera at her tits. Then goes round to the back and points it at her juicy great backside. Left alone, Lilly is closing her eyes and blowing through her nose. She's making odd hip movements, trembling her buttocks. Staccato breaths and pants are escaping her mouth. She clenches buttocks tighter, dips her hips, makes a small whine.

Behind her, Nicks says to Kinks, "I've got something to tell you. Not here, after."

He looks round, shrugs and grins. "Laugh this, innit?"

Over in the meeting, Mel asks the huddle, "How are we doing do you think? How are your friends reacting, Bill?"

"It's Kinks, he's the mate. They look alright to me. From what he says, his bird won't mind much."

"What about the other girl though? She doesn't look that happy."

"Nah," says Billy. "Not said nothing though, has she?"

He waves Kinks over as well.

"Alright mate, how you doing?" Kinks asks. "Yeah, what a buzz, fucking hell. Nice cane action, girl." He's said this to Mel. He sticks a thumb up. "Fucking brilliant, yeah."

Mel asks him, "How do you think your friends are taking it?"

He looks around, at the three of them bunched around the worktop, past Lilly.

"Pigs in shit," Kinks says.

"What about them others? Your girl Nicks' mate Cal, that other bird?"

"Dunno Bill," he says. "Want me to ask 'em? They was alright in the car."

"Sound 'em out," says Billy.

"Alright... yeah. By the by, how's my camerawork looking then? Doing alright, am I? You want me in the frame?"

Mel says, "Might bring you in closer, yes. Probably use you a bit."

"Brilliant," he says. "You can stick me in vision anytime."

"Well you could try to keep your camera steadier," Malcolm tells him. "If you make it calmer than you think you need to, you'll probably be doing it just about right."

"Right mate, tips, yeah." The thumb goes up again before Kinks slopes off towards the others.

They see him coming over to them. He nods, bobs his torso, makes a show of pointing his camera at the girl. She's still holding her arms out with the skirt hanging loose. Her arms are trembling. He moves his camera right up to her face, intrusively.

"How you doing, alright babes? How's it feeling?"

He's asked this of her quietly. She's looking in his lens. She whimpers.

"Alright, yeah," he husks. "Nice one, yeah."

He strolls up to his friends.

"Fuck," he says. "What?"

Cal just giggles.

"What d'you fink?" Kinks asks generally. "All that and more, yeah?"

"Large, mate," says Cal.

Nicks asks, "Why they just leave her with her arms stuck out?"

"Continuity, babes," says Kinks. "Yeah. All proper, all that bollocks."

"State though, ain't she?" Nicks has said this quietly.

"Yeah. Looks good in here though."

"She don't half look stupid though." Again the hushed voice. Cal makes half a snort.

"Yeah. Fair enough," Kinks says. "Them others was asking if you're all, like, happy. It's a gas though, this, innit?"

"Gas," says Cal and tips his head back.

"You alright, darling?" Kinks has asked this of Sammy.

She looks. She blinks, then shrugs. "Alright," she says, keeping face muscles static.

"Brilliant, yeah. Everyfing I said, all that."

Nicks says to Kinks, "Didn't half look funny when you stuck that in her face."

She's nodding at his camera. Cal just snorts.

"You going back to work?" Nicks asks him.

The crew, behind, are stirring from their huddle.

"Right," he says. "Yeah babes. Got to go back to the office. Give us a kiss and I'll see you after work, alright?"

He leans in. They kiss, mouths open, right in front of the other two. Sammy watches for a moment then turns her head away. They're made for each other, these two, she thinks, but she wishes she weren't exchanging body fluids a meter from her.

On the other side of the room, Mel asks in a whisper, "We still on the right track? Am I still doing the right kind of thing?"

Billy blinks back. He says, "You've got her so she don't know if she's coming or going. Absolute fucking dynamite, girl."

"So you think it's OK? Not too much?"

"Brilliant. Her reactions are ace."

"What do you think, Malcolm?"

He says, "Well you know it's not something I'd have ever thought to work on. But I can't say it's not compelling. I mean I'm tempted to feel sorry for her. I do, it is a bit much, of course. Though, you know, it's also... if you suspend any thoughts about how the poor girl herself must be feeling... well it's really good film, it's terrifically intense."

"So what, we just carry on milking her? It's not too much?"

"Nah," Billy says, "You should rub it in. Tell her she's useless, go for it. She won't know, will she? Hours of usable stuff in that girl. Old Cyril's going to be creaming his pants."

"Malcolm?" Mel asks, "no qualms about the girl if I push it some more?"

"Oh, he says, "oh well yes. The girl. She's not the one I was worrying about. The other girl, the blond one on the side. She did look rather upset. I mean, it's cruel I know, did you hear those one or two comments? I mean, those others may be threatening to laugh, but it does rather show whose side they're on. That they're not about to complain, you know. It's the blond one, yes. Looks like she'd rather be somewhere else."

Mel is just nodding.

Billy says, "Kinks reckoned she was up for it though."

"Maybe you should sound her out yourself. Best just make sure. Prevent any problems before we go on."

"Wilco, darling."

He goes towards the group by the worktop.

Mel asks Malcolm, "Are we really getting good visuals then?"

"Oh yes," he says. "Every time I try a close-up, she's just so upset."

"Close-ups of the front, or close-ups of the back?"

Malcolm feels like he's actually blushing. He clears his throat. "Well I can't say I didn't appreciate... you know..."

"The spreading?" she asks.

"Well, yes," he says.

"Got your todger stirring, did it?"

"Hum," he says.

"Shall I carry on the same then?"

"Oh," Malcolm muses, "I do think it'll contribute to the overall frisson. So I won't be objecting. Yes, lots more... spreading."

"And you think it's alright... humiliating her like this?"

"Well," he says, "you know... um... I shouldn't perhaps admit to it, but I'm rather enjoying it as it happens. One side of me does feel quite sorry for her. Then I look through the camera... especially when you're caning her... you can feel how much it hurts... and I think, poor thing. And the next moment, I'm thinking... well... go on Mel, do it again. You know... hit her harder, go on."

"Do her," says Mel. "Like Billy says."

"Yes, do her. Do her good and proper."

***

When they come back from their conference, they don't waste much time on preliminaries.

"Put this on again, lovely."

Mel's pointing to the skirt.

"Like lightning now, chop-chop."

The cameras are positioned. Mel goes close to Kinks.

"Everything alright, is it? Your friend not too upset?"

"Fink you're worrying for nothing, darling. All brilliant. They're having it large."

"Alright," she says. "So... just so they know not to get in the way.

She turns back to the others. Nods to the cameras. Waits for Kinks to find a position. Then Mel grabs the girl's elbow and makes her bend down.

"Wasn't right yet, we reckon," she says out loud.

"We'll have to go again darling," Billy says to Lilly.

Mel's got her dangling her arms again. The girl's face looks stressed, she looks very unhappy.

"It's a problem," says Mel. "I'm sorry, Lilly, but we're having a problem. The thing is, you're such an obvious amateur. We had to talk. It's the footage, you see. There's just not very much that these fellows can use. Is there, Billy?"

"How much have we got then?" Billy asks Malcolm. "Like, what we can use?"

"I don't know," he says. "Five minutes? Maybe. I think it's probably a good idea if we... you know... go again. I mean, when I look at the tape, it just seems a bit weak."

"Problem is, darling, my uncle needs two fucking hours."

"And I'm not even sure about five minutes, to be honest."

"What's the verdict then?" Mel asks. "Partial retake or the whole thing again?"

Billy says, "I'd say the lot."

She looks at Malcolm.

"I'm afraid I'd have to agree," he says.

"In bits, or all at once?"

"Oh all at once I should say," Malcolm tells her.

Mel approaches Lilly, stoops, speaks quietly to her. As she does this, Billy wanders in with his lens.

"Lilly," she says. "I'm really sorry but, as you can hear, we've got to go again. I know it feels hard, trust me I know what it can feel like. The problem is, on camera, it just doesn't look... well, really that hard at all I'm afraid. I'm sorry, but I even think I might have to try going a bit harder. Do you follow? It's a thing that the camera does you see, it makes cane strokes, any kind of spanking really, look really rather softer than it actually is. It's happened to me so many times I've just got used to it. You get a bum like a rhinoceros hide after a while. Bit mean on you though, you know, first time... Thing is though, even if that's a bit annoying for you, it's also really annoying for everyone else. It's absolutely desperate, we've just got to get something decent for the cut. See, the market's so tough that producers have a terrible time trying to get their stuff to sell. There's so much competition. By the time they manage to get anything to market they've normally had to spend rather a lot of money. They used to be able to get away with much softer stuff, you know, but they just can't get away with that anymore, the market just sees it as second-rate. Czech republic, all that Eastern product, it's terrifically raised the bar of what the customers expect now. And the problem is, we're all after such a niche market, and the customers are so clued-in, that nowadays there's no option at all but to make things look really, properly hard. Which in reality has got to be even harder, because of that awfully annoying thing the camera does. Otherwise the customers just can't believe what they're watching at all. I mean, Billy's uncle here has been stung so many times that he's barely keeping his head above water. He absolutely insist on us producing something that looks convincing. He really does, and he's not a man to try bargaining with. So I'm afraid there's no just other option. You've just got to be brave my dear and try your absolute best to bear it."

Billy's getting all this on tape. Malcolm too, now.

"Kinks," Bill goes, "we need you mate, got to fucking go again. Sorry, what we done before looks so rubbish."

"Yeah?" Kinks asks.

Billy winks. Lilly can't see. "Expert eye here, Mel and this bloke Malcolm really know their stuff."

Mel says, "Lilly, I think I'll have to cane you probably quite a bit longer this time as well."

She says this breezily whilst walking away, as if this is a perfectly normal thing to tell a model. She drops a paper hankie in a bin, then stands with her weight to one foot as she talks.

"Thing is, not every stroke's telling, if you catch my drift. It's your reactions in a way, it's so obvious you don't know what you're doing I'm afraid. In an ideal world I'd just call in a more experienced model, but as you know there just isn't one available, so I'm sorry but we're buggered my dear. So like I said, you'll just have to grin and bear it. No don't move darling, stay exactly where you are for continuity, there's a good girl."

Mel stands there in full flow, gesturing, talking from across the room.

"And I'd try and give you some advice as to how to react, you know, give you some tips and hints, how to do it properly. But in a way I can't. Thing is, it's always entirely individual to each girl, each one develops their own style, so to speak, comes with experience I suppose. All I can say is, you're just not doing it right yet. And it's so absolutely imperative that we get a decent film in the can this session, isn't it Malcolm?"

Malcolm's head twitches at mention of his name. He changes his expression to one he thinks is stern but in reality isn't, and says, "Mister Fuller..."

"My Uncle Cyril," says Billy.

"...was surprisingly insistent."

"Yes. He can be very insistent indeed," Mel says, "which I know to my personal cost." She mimics swishing a cane with her hand. "I mean, as you know, I was meant to be modelling myself today, but that would only have left you as the dom, and that would have been a fucking disaster my dear. I mean you're having enough trouble modelling as it is, and all you have to do is just stand there doing nothing." She thinks for a second. "Well, other than follow instructions. But I mean, all you really need to know about that is, as I've said before, do whatever you're told to do. And the best way for that is, don't even think about it at all. Yes indeed." She turns to the others. "I tell you what, can we try an experiment? Try and give her some clues? Yes? We'll get back to the retake in a moment, I promise, but trying this now might help speed things up later."

"Knock yourself out darling," Billy says.

20: Mel teaches Lilly some industry tricks

"Right," Mel says. "Alright Lilly, you're going to move. Continuity's fine if you know what you're doing but you obviously don't, and we've got to do the whole bloody thing again anyway. So come back here a bit, come towards me where everyone can see you properly, and we'll see if I can't show you a trick or two. Come on darling."

Lilly hesitates, then starts to straighten up.

"No no stop!" Mel orders. "No you've really got to listen to me carefully, haven't you? And if you think about it dear, I really haven't given you any instruction to stand up."

Everyone, absolutely everyone in the room is watching Lilly with the fullest attention, frankly staring like she's a prize cow at market.

"Come into the middle of the room," Mel says with exaggerated patience," but stay in the position you're in while you do it."

Lilly starts to turn towards the middle.

"No you're doing it again," Mel says quickly, "I didn't tell you to turn either, did I? All I said was, come into the middle of the room." Her voice takes on a sarcastic lilt. "Stay in the position you're already in, stay facing the same way, but..." quickly now, "come-into-the-middle-of-the-room."

Lilly hesitates, as if trying to work out how to do this.

"And the other thing which is absolutely imperative," Mel adds, "is that you really must try to do these things quickly. We're so tight on time, dear. I mean, maybe you haven't got to be anywhere, but the rest of us have, and to be honest my lovely, it's you who's the problem, it's you that's holding everything up."

"She's fucking useless mate, honest," Billy whispers loudly to Kinks.

"So... no don't move yet dear, not while I'm talking... the thing is, it's always a good thing for any model to do what she's told to do quickly, it's just good policy, but in this case, as you are completely holding everything up, you really must do your best to do whatever it is I tell you... well, very quickly indeed. In fact I'd go as far as to say with absolutely no hesitation whatsoever. This is all costing a lot of money now, isn't it? I mean, you might not be getting paid much, but the rest of us all cost a pretty penny."

She moves her hands with each thing she lists, and her voice rises at the end of each phrase.

"There's the hire of the studio, the cost of electricity, the heating. Malcolm's transport, payments to Malcolm's agent, the cost of post-production. And as for editing... well the editor's going to have a hell of a job getting through all this useless bloody footage we've shot, fucking hours of it most likely my dear... just goes and on and on and on, really it's endless. I mean, even this lot"... she points to Cal, Nicks and Sammy, "now that they're here, even if it wasn't planned, might have to be paid for performance rights, should they wander into frame. And all of it for so much longer because you simply don't seem to have the tiniest clue. But the thing is, darling... and to be honest I'm letting you into a big trade secret here, this is gold-dust, really, in fact it was years before anyone bothered to tell it to me... and I cursed the buggers for never having told me sooner... is that a model must always follow all of the instructions all of the time. Absolutely every single one at this stage of your career my lovely, including even tiny, apparently insignificant, even irrelevant instruction that you can barely believe we can truly mean... to the absolute fucking letter. Alright? Every single time, Lilly, including whether it's me giving it to you or Malcolm giving it to you or BIlly or... well, since we're practising now, at least later on anyway, by any of this lot as well. We might get to them later, for a bit more of a serious practice, we'll see. But for now anyway, to make things simple, just listen to me and do what I tell you! So we're going to give you some practice, just so can learn what I mean, alright? So... wait... at the end of the instruction I'm about to give you, I want you to... come into the middle of the room, while staying in the position you're already in, and not changing orientation or anything stupid like that, but remembering that you have to do it very quickly so that nobody has to waste any more of their time on you than is strictly necessary... you must, " with a flourish, "come-into-the-middle-of-the-room!"

There's hesitation, extraordinary embarrassment on Lilly's part.

"Now!" Mel shouts.

Lilly is shuffling backwards, suddenly and fast. She trips over her own feet, staggers and almost topples, recovers by ducking her hips down with bent knees, loses it again, and thumps backwards onto her arse.

Nicks and Cal laugh out loud. Cal holds his ribs and tips his head back against the wall. Sammy has her jaw clamped fast, her face looks crimson.

"Oh get up," Mel says annoyed. "Don't look at them, ignore them, they haven't got anything to do with this, alright? Get up and try to fucking concentrate."

Lilly stumbles with extreme awkwardness to her feet and, torso shuddering, drops back into a similar position. Her knees are now bent slightly and her back is curved, unlovely, so that she looks like she's waiting to be kicked in the arse. Her fingers curl, as before, but much more tightly.

"Back into the middle of the room," Mel says. Then, angrily and on one high note, "Hesitation!"

Lilly clumps her way backwards, chin rucking, torso shuddering.

Mel says to Billy, "Look, since we're practising, do you think it might be an idea for your friend with the camera to get in some practice as well? I mean I know this is a bit off the beaten track and it's probably not anything you can use, but you never know, there could possibly be a moment here or there for the out-takes or something. That tumble for a start, it's possible there might be a couple of laughs in that. And it might help get Lilly more used to the camera. Must be a bit daunting the first time, don't you think?"

Billy says, "What say Kinks, up for a bit of practice? Probably be complete bollocks all this, but whatever."

Malcolm says, "I might as well join in as well, don't you think? Just for the sake of the model and all. To make it more like the real thing."

"Alright, good then," Mel says. Then to Lilly, "They might as well play about a bit as well while they're at it. I mean, don't be surprised if they do something like push one of the cameras right up in your face, you know." She says to the others, "It'll get her used to it all a bit quicker. You know, don't feel you have to spare her blushes or anything. Since it's purely for her benefit, you might as well throw caution to the winds and go the whole hog. It's imperative she gets used to it as quickly as she can. So... yes, well good, shall we go again then?"

She stoops close to Lilly, the reluctant center of excruciating stares.

"Now I'm going to give you just a few strokes of the cane first, just so it's in the same context as the proper film, alright? But the moment I'm finished, I want you... instantly... to straighten up and take your skirt off. OK? And to show you that you know how to do these things in sequence, I want you immediately to pull your... I tell you what, turn your bottom a bit dear, so these others can see a bit of what's going on behind you as well. Bit more. No, the other way actually dear, changed my mind. No, right round, right round, bit more. And, stop. Shuffle a bit this way... yes, towards me, yes, that's it, a bit further... stop. Very good. Bit slow though, remember I want speed. Anyway dear, the instant you've got the skirt off, drop it and bend down into exactly the same position, and... what else then? Oh, yes, I know, right, just to make it a bit more real then... I want you immediately... and I mean, immediately, to reach around your bum with... yes, try it now, just over your skirt, yes... yes, further, reach as far as you can, there's no point doing things by halves at this point, you know how the camera always makes everything look so much smaller... reaching as far as you can, no stinting, alright? Then," with emphasis, "grab your bum cheeks for all you're worth dear, and pull 'em as far apart as you can. Alright? We'll stop there for now, don't want to make things too complicated for you. But remember Lilly... it is Lilly isn't it? All of it dear, as fast as you possibly can. So, ready then are we? Just a little bit further this way dear, you need to give me a bit more room to properly swish the cane, you know how long it is. Alright, good. Now remember, it's going to be several strokes, OK? I'll do them as quickly as I possibly can my dear, just so you truly know when I've stopped, so you can judge when it's your turn to do your actions. And..."

She lifts the cane right back, then whacks it home over Lilly's skirt, in a blur, putting her body into it, and continuing immediately, stroke blurring into stroke, till she's landed five, then ten. She seems to double her effort for the next few, turning her body and hammering the cane in over Lilly's skirt.

Lilly has been convulsing, staggering, clenching her fingers. Her head vibrating as muscles tense against the pain, her arms jerking back reflexively.

Mel shouts in a single high tone, "Come on, come on, get on with it Lilly!"

Then she's moving, jerking more upright, remembering to look down for her belt, clutching at it and losing grip, clutching again and missing altogether, and all the time with Mel chiding her with, "Hurry up, hurry up!"

Kinks takes Mel at her word and shoves his camera right up under Lilly's chin. This has the effect of making her stagger backwards and hesitate.

Mel shouts in another high monotone, "Don't pay him any attention Lilly, get on with it!"

Behind Lilly against the wall, Cal is snorting. This makes Nicks laugh as well. Sammy glares at them, jaw still clenched.

Lilly's hands are shaking as she pulls at the belt of her skirt. She gets the feeder edge detached, tries to pull at it but can't clutch the pin to get it out.

"Oh, come... on!" Mel chides, and hammers in a cane stroke.

Lilly finally has it. She tries to lift the skirt away but loses her grip and the skirt just slumps down her legs. She bends to pick it up. Mel cracks in a blinder low on Lilly's arse.

"Leave it, leave it! Knickers now Lilly!"

The cameras all focus in on her. The new boy has his right under her face, inches away, Billy and Malcolm are pointing as well. And she's sure there are people laughing at her.

"Knickers!"

She reaches and pulls. They just drag down. she feels air on her buttocks.

"And hands, hands!"

She's really hesitating, she knows she is. Her hands start to reach but refuse. Her fingers clutch convulsively together.

"Reach, reach!"

She wants to die. She's never felt so stupid in her life, and she's someone who makes a habit of feeling stupid about herself.

Mel shrieks in one high tone, "Reeeeach!"

Her hands jerk back. Her wrists press against her haunches.

"Further, Lilly, further, all the way back!"

She tries to make them go further. Her feet stagger and readjust as her torso tries to curl tighter.

"Further, bend your knees!"

She staggers her feet wider, knees buckling, she looks unbelievably ungainly.

"And,  grip! Grip girl, grip!"

Her fingers partly uncurl but still won't straighten.

"Griiiip!"

They're straight, shuddering with tension, flush against the skin, still resisting.

"God, get on with it girl," Mel shouts with far more variation. "Just... pull your bloody cheeks apart, it's not like anyone here hasn't seen it all before."

Her hands are pressing, fingertips pointing into the flesh, parting her buttocks. She feels cold air between them.

Mel says, apparently exasperated, "Oh for god's sake wider, wider!"

When she's not satisfied, she clips her heels forwards, clamps her hands over Lilly's hands and pulls them backwards, jamming them onto her big, trembling cheeks at full stretch, then makes the hands pull sideways, jerking them apart several times, rhythmically.

"Pull" she's saying, "pull your bloody cheeks apart!"

With real pressure, making Lilly's hands pull the flesh as wide as her cheeks will stand.

"Properly," she's saying, "like this..." pulling hard, "with some bloody effort," relaxing then stretching, "for God's sake just do it properly." Pull... pull... pull. "If you don't put in a bit of proper effort, it won't look like you're doing it at all."

She steps back, releasing the replacement model's hands. Lilly is trembling all over and whining rhythmically. Her skirt is slumped round her ankles, her knickers sit pulled and skewed in a twist over her knees. Her feet, in sensible shoes, are far apart and her knees are buckled towards the floor and turned inwards unevenly. Her torso is curved with the effort of reaching, her arms clamped so far back that her shoulders feel like they're about to leave their sockets. And she's exposed. Rictus fingers are parting her big globe cheeks. Not low by her pudenda, but high, to either side of her puckering anus. The pudeda itself juts down distinctly between her juddering thighs. Her breathing is shallow and frequent, her whines of misery short and quavering. Cameras point straight into her face, and move around her. She sees, between her legs, the pretty girl looking stiff, pressing a hand to her mouth like she's about to be sick. She's sure that the girl with the spiky black hair is trying not to let her see her laughing. Beside her, the leather boy with the sunglasses rucks down from his perch and, elbows on knees, strains forwards, unabashedly staring between her legs.

"Oh my God."

As the goth girl says this, an involuntary giggle escapes.

"Oh my God, look how fucking red her arse is!"

Mel lets them stare. She says to Kinks, "Might as well have a practice for a mo, look for some decent angles. What do you think?" she asks Billy.

He says, "I can hardly tell you, girl."

"I know, I know," Mel says. "She's incredibly slow, I know she is."

Billy says to Kinks as he goes round behind, "Sorry mate but the girl's just so rubbish."

Kinks starts to laugh at the look on Billy's face.

"How long do you think this might take then, Bill?" he asks in a low but audible tone.

"Fuck knows," Billy says. "Tell you the truth, I ain't never seen a girl this crap before."

"I know," says Mel from the side, "I know. We're absolutely buggered, aren't we? But there's no choice, no choice. We just have to go on for as long as it takes."

Malcolm steps over. Mel nods her head and pulls them all further away.

Kinks goes behind the girl with his roving camera. He points it. He pushes it inwards. To splutters from Nicks, he says, quite distinctly, "God, her arse just looks fucking enormous in here!"

21: Lilly in a retake; Mel throws it open to the audience

The crew's huddle is quick, then they're straight back to the model.

"Right lovely," Mel says, "general opinion is, we try straight away for one more bloody retake of the skirt off thing. Alright? But please do try to concentrate. So quickly, one last time, skirt back on. Then follow every instruction, alright?"

The traumatised girl releases her cheeks. She bends, pulls up her knickers slowly, then retrieving the skirt, begins to stand up. As her bladder throbs, she cringes back down. She fumbles with the skirt belt. When she favours her bladder by not pulling tight, Mel steps in and pulls at it more. The girl's face is close to hers for a moment. There's whimper as Mel pulls the belt tight.

The woman says quietly, "For God's sake, don't fuss so."

She steps back. All the cameras are in place.

"A bit of the cane, alright? Then the moment I stop, you know what to do. Stand up, skirt off quick as you like. The sooner the skirt's off, the sooner we can get through this silly tiresome retake."

The girl bends, drops her arms. Mel fires off a blur of cane strokes. She goes quickly. When she stops, Lilly rises with a jerk. Her hands scrabble for her belt buckle. They barely work at all now, the right hand's vibrating like a broken motor. Each time she starts to get a grip, Mel cracks one in and she loses it again. And the strokes are so hard. She desperately wants to make the hands work, but they just won't. They clutch uselessly in front of her. She stands there, quaking for an age it seems like, unable to move as the blows thud in.

She hears Mel shouting, "Get on with it Lilly or I'll just keep on caning!" Reflexively, she's scrabbling at her belt.  She can't even see it through blurring eyes. Her hands work blind, and she doesn't know how, but the outer buckle's free.

That single high pitch again, "Concentrate!" like a gym teacher.

She starts blowing through her nostrils, puffs of concentration, painfully slowly starting to raise the belt buckle and grip the pin with her fingertips. She ignores the thudding and stinging, holds and prizes, and pulls the two strands of the belt apart. Hand out, she drops it. Her feet feel rooted, her knees are too loose and unstable to move.

"Hands! On your head now!"

It's a new instruction. Her hands stretch up. Her whole body is quaking and it won't go straight... the pain at her bladder is far too great... she's standing with knees bent and trembling. And it's a struggle to make her arms go on top of her head when all they want to do is defend her body. The strokes come in fast, high up on her bum, into the knickers which are rucked in such a mess.

"Hands!" from the gym teacher. She didn't know she'd moved them, she couldn't help it. With an effort, trembling hard, she raises them to the top again. They're barely touching each other or her head.

The pain sears in, this time low where her bum meets her legs. It's hitting reverberating flesh, raw and puckered and marked. The knickers ride up.

"Hands! Come on!"

Again she has to lift them.

"Oh for God's sake, you can go quicker than that, girl, surely..."

They jerk on top. She waits there, cringing, her hips bobbing forward every time she thinks the cane will land again. Then the strokes are cracking, around the side of her bum. Her hips jerk but her hands stay up.

"Knickers down!"

She means to tell her arms to move, she's sure she has. But the pain is searing, a stroke has landed cleanly on her thigh. Her arms jerk down.

"Down to here girl."

More new pain at her thighs, halfway to her knees. She drags down her pants.

High again, single toned: "Feet apart, grab your bum!"

She can't react, she's too traumatised. Pain hits her legs again. She jerks one foot wider.

"Grab, girl! God's sake..."

She stays upright, reaching clumsily behind, cupping one raw, dimpled cheek in each trembling hand. She feels welts there, fat stinging ridges. She doesn't recognise her own flesh.

"Come on, get a grip, girl, for goodness' sake. Upwards and outwards, yes? Then bend... Go on, bend. So you stretch between your legs. Bend your knees. Get on with it!." She's peering behind at Lilly's crotch. "Go on, I can't help you out every time... You know what it felt like before, surely. You should feel like you're starting to split apart. Jolly tight, remember? With every pose, what you aim for is always this. No point bothering with half-measures, you know the camera shrinks rather than exaggerates..."

"Not in here it don't," Kinks mutters.

"Just ignore him, he's a silly boy. What this feels like, where you are now... well it's the absolute minimum expected of a model. Half-measures just don't cut it anymore. So next time you're in a shoot, and a photographer... any photographer... asks you for a bum shot, what he's expecting to see is this. Half-measures waste his time and money. Big, juicy handfuls of bum cheek. Lift, and spread. Bend as far forward as you possibly can. Now then Lilly, you're still not quite right for the light. Walk a bit forwards, yes? Just a few steps, darling. Go on, don't lose the pose."

Lilly tries to move a foot, but her feet are so far apart, she waddles like a duck.

"No too far, come backwards a bit. Now, turn clockwise darling."

Lilly staggers in a circle.

"No the other clockwise, dear."

Lilly whines quietly, "I am going clockwise."

"No you're not. Back the other way."

"I am! I know what clockwise is!" she says.

"She is," says Malcolm, "she is going clockwise."

Mel blows out a puff of breath. "Well really," she says, "go ahead Lilly, just... embarrass me in front of everyone, why don't you?"

***

Mel turns to the other crew.

"How was it?" she asks. "Is she ready to go on or does she still need more practice?"

Billy and Malcolm exchange quick looks.

"Still slow," Billy says.

"I dunno," Malcolm says. "We might be able to use it, yes."

"Definitely needs more practice," says Billy.

"Yes, I thought so myself. Really, I'm pretty much at my wit's end here. How the hell do we get through this?"

"Throw it open to the floor, babes," says Billy. He's grinning. Kinks is nodding vigourously over his camera. Malcolm shrugs.

Mel sighs. She takes out a hankey, wipes her nose, then walks up to Lilly's face. She bends herself down so her head is close.

"Look," she says, "I'm trying my best. I really am darling, for God's sake I am, but you know what? I'm really struggling here. I'm trying to give you the help you need. I really am, I'm giving you tips of the trade, I'm giving you chance after chance."

She looks Lilly in the eyes.

"But our biggest problem is, darling... well, performance we've talked about, and I'm of the opinion that... maybe your style really is... well, whatever it is you're doing. But the speed, Lilly. I dunno what's going on in there, you're just getting slower. It's just desperate, lovey. It's so blatantly obvious that you need more practice following instructions. So look, I'm going to try just one more experiment to see if it will help. Alright? I'm going to throw it open to the floor. I want the instructions coming thick and fast, to really give you a proper workout. So here's the thing, darling. You've just got to learn to follow instructions. Immediately. To the letter. So for the next few minutes these good people here will get their chance to contribute, to see if they can't help the message get in. OK?"

Lilly is looking Mel directly back. Her eyes stare wide, her face is rigid, her jaw is locked.

"All you have to do," Mel says, "is do what they tell you. It's really simple. It's not rocket science. When you hear an instruction... follow that instruction! And Lilly, this is very important. Every instruction, no matter who it's from, is as important as every other instruction. You hear it, you do what it says, OK? Are you ready for this, Lilly?"

The girl doesn't answer. Her face looks so stressed. Mel blinks at her.

She says, very quietly, "Do you really want Billy's Uncle going after you for breach of contract? All you have to do is do what we say. Be a good girl now. Tell me you're not going to cause a problem. Just be a good girl and do what we tell you."

Mel stands up. She swishes her cane.

"Right," she says out loud, "instructions, anyone?"

She looks at the audience. The blond girl's face looks like thunder. The lad in leathers puts his head back and breathes the words, "Fuck me, what?"

Malcolm and Billy have Lilly framed but are quietly waiting. Kinks fills the space in front of Lilly's face recently vacated by Mel.

It's Nicks who speaks. She asks, "What do we call her?"

"Lilly," says Billy.

Nicks' eyes open wider. Her mouth parts a little. "Fucking hell," she says. "Yeah. I fink she should jump."

"Jump?" Mel asks.

"Yeah. Like, how she is. Jump up and down."

"Great," says Mel. "OK, Lilly, everyone, here are the rules. The model has to stay in exactly the position she's in. Except she adds whatever action you tell her to do. Alright, Lilly darling? This girl wants you to jump up and down. So you stay in the position you're in, but... you know... jump up and down. And darling, everyone... remember, if she gets an instruction like this, she should do it, and carry on doing it, until or unless she is told to stop. Got it, everyone? Now my love, I want you to say what you want the model to do directly to her, as a clear instruction. And Lilly, when she does it, I want you to carry the instruction out. Immediately she says it. Right. Give the instruction."

"Yeah," says Nicks, "yeah, model Lilly. Jump up and down."

Lilly twitches her body down. Mel steps behind her. She cracks the cane in low on Lilly's leg. The model doesn't respond. Mel cracks it harder. The model dips her hips. She lets out a little keening sob. Then she jumps. Her thighs, her feet, lift her bent body an inch into the air. Mel taps in the cane again. The girl jumps once more. It's a slow, heavy, awkward action. She looks like an idiot to start with. Jumping like this, she looks ludicrous.

"Fucking hell," Nicks says, "do it faster, for fuck's sake."

Lilly's mouth muscles bunch in. She looks intensely stressed. Mel cracks her cane low into the girl's leg. And Lilly doubles the speed of her jumping. Up on her toes, back down onto the flats of her feet with a thud.

Cal, head back against the wall up high on the worktop, says, "Get her feet wider, Nicks."

"Yeah," Nicks says, "stick your feet wider, model Lilly."

Lilly, starting to breathe harder, thumps her feet further apart as she jumps. The result is that her knees can't go any wider when her knickers, at her knees, are stretched to their fullest. Instead, she tries to separate her feet. She's now jumping from, and onto, her insteps. Her face contorts with the effort. There's disgust showing on a severely down-turned mouth. Her dangling breasts lift and distort, stretch and lengthen. Kinks is pointing his camera at these. He says, "Oy, model. Carry on jumping right? Only get your shirt off."

When the girl hesitates and tries to look behind at Mel, She feels a sharp pain on her thigh again. She snatches hands forwards and scrabbles for the shirt buttons. This is hampered by her trying to jump. Clawing fingers try to locate little discs but refuse to work.

"Too slow!" Mel says behind her.

She fires her cane at Lilly's exposed backside. The girl tries to make her fingers work. She ends up pulling first one, then another button open by force.

"Nah," Kinks says, "she's got to do it proper with the rest. Undo 'em proper."

The girl tries to do this. She gets one button undone, unintentionally pulls another open with a pop.

Mel finds Nicks standing next to her. The goth girl says, "Can I do her arse?"

Mel stares at her. Then she hands her the cane and stands back. Behind Lilly, Nicks says, "Oy, model Lilly, don't pull them buttons open."

She canes the girl. Not very effectively, but she stands further back and does it again. The model's full buttocks, livid red, faintly cellulite dimpled, with prominent goose bumps and scored by marks, thrums under another impact. Nicks is proving none too accurate though. She turns the cane to another angle and whips it down from almost above. The top of the cane curls in over the model's upper right haunch, where there's insulating flesh to the top of her hips.

Lilly has the last button undone. Her hands jerk to the sides.

"Get your shirt off," says Kinks. He's fully into this. He's got Nicks in frame behind Lilly. Lilly thumps up and down once more. She's trying to work her top off while jumping, bent. Her arms get locked behind her back. As she jumps, she feels a searing pain where none has been before. Nicks, standing too far to the side, has whipped a fast stroke in so its tip has clipped her labial lips.

Behind her, Cal sucks air in over his teeth, then he sputters a giggle and says, "Go it, Nicks!"

Lilly's shirt is caught at the cuffs. She's trying to work it off, but each time she jumps, she's destabilising her hands. Behind her, Nicks is standing too far back. Mel has got out of the way. Nicks is swinging her entire arm around in an arc. The cane, already long, snaps around with very little aim. One stroke lands low, tracing a line all down a thigh. Another lands high, across the very top flesh of Lilly's hips, barely missing her struggling hands. Lilly is getting into all kinds of trouble. She's almost tied her arms behind her back. The shirt slides down across her generous cheeks. Nicks takes the tip of the cane and pokes it into the girl's backside, then flicks the shirt up with it. She taps in a quick one with the very end. The shirt falls down.

"Fucking hell," she says, and jabs the cane tip straight into Lilly's cheek. She flicks it up. It falls back across. She pokes again, harder. Flicks the shirt up so the cane scores the big round globe. When it falls across again, she stands back and deliberately pokes the tip into Lilly's arse, repeatedly. Jabbing till the cane bends and jabbing again.

Cal, behind, is snorting, "Classic!"

The model thumps up and down, arms quaking, breasts bunching then stretching, backside on fire. The goth girl pokes her cruelly in the arse like she's sticking a pig.

Nicks looks about. Nobody's stopping her. She takes the cane in both hands so she's shortened its active length. She jabs. The cane tip contacts the top of a thigh. It scrapes the inside curve of a buttock close to the girl's anus. It gets the outside of her left cheek so the cane scrapes away. It pokes and pokes as Cal snorts behind and Kinks shoves his camera in close to Lilly's tortured face.

A wrist tugs through a shirt cuff. Lilly's arms are free. She pulls the shirt down under her body. She can't get it off her other wrist. She pulls and pulls. She jumps weakly. Feels the poking of the cane. Then the shirt tears off. Her hands drop, trembling. She's surprised that that camera has gone from in front of her. She continues to jump, weakly.

"Get your knickers off, model Lilly."

That's Nicks again, behind. Lilly reaches down and starts to tug them free.

"Only don't stop jumping."

She's doing it, pulling them to her ankles, weakly lifting her feet off the ground, trying to work them over her heels, bent completely double. The cane pokes in on one side of her labial lips. Then she bumps down on her bottom as the knickers come off one foot. Nicks jabs her low between her bum cheeks, where they contact the floor.

"Go on," Nicks is saying, "get off your fat arse."

The girl stumbles forwards onto her knees, one trembling arm back to pull the pants over her other foot. Lilly's face is bright red, she can barely see through the sweat and tears. All she's got on is a pair of shoes, white socks, and a bra which is pulled down under full, dangling breasts. Nicks jabs her in the backside once more. The girl just starts to sob. She lets go of the knickers, still wrapped around one ankle. Nicks jabs again and lilly tries to put her hand back, but the sobs are incapacitating.

22: Mel pauses the shoot; Malcolm liaises with Lilly again

Mel has withdrawn behind Malcolm.

"I should never have given her that cane," she says.

"You can always take it back," he says.

"Think I should stop it? I'm going to stop it."

Malcolm shrugs. "It's still good film."

Mel just makes her mind up. She says, "Alright, pause there for a minute everyone!"

Lilly stops with her fingers reaching back around her bum, off center on splayed knees, her other hand supporting her weight. She's still sobbing silently with shudders running down her torso. Nicks looks pained, she was really getting into it.

"Why we stopped?" she asks.

"Um... think we need a sofa," Malcolm says to cover up. It's reminding him of Clive's interruption.

"A what?" Nicks asks.

"A sofa. In the corridor. We want it for a prop, me and Mel. We've just decided."

"What for?" Mel asks him loudly.

He says to her quietly, "Look at Billy." Out loud he says, "The girl looks like she's about to drop. You can put her on it, give her a break."

Billy's up close now but he's clearly annoyed. "Kinks," he says, "can you get your mates to be a bit useful and get in that sofa from the back room there?"

"Need a change of set-up you see," Malcolm says.

Kinks looks at Nicks. He nods to the others. They slip from the worktop and go out in the corridor all in a bunch.

"What the fuck's that about?" Nicks asks all nasal.

"Dunno," says Kinks.

Cal has slid off the worktop without a word. His girlfriend waits before she follows. Kinks, Nicks and Cal slope out. Sammy holds back, watching Billy frowning at Mel and Malcolm, cornering them, asking, "What's up?"

As Sammy passes the model, she pauses. She leans in close.

"Why are you letting them do this to you?"

Lilly, in her cowed, frozen pose, doesn't answer, but she's clearly heard what's been said to her.

"You've got rights," Sammy says. "Stand up for them. Don't let them treat you like a thing like this."

She sees Billy turning, Mel frowning towards her.

"Just put on some clothes and bugger off, you stupid girl." Once Sammy has said this she follows the others out towards the back.

"So what's the problem?" Billy asks.

"Just the way that girl was poking her. It's not standard, it's a bit off the map." Mel is glaring back at the lad.

"You've been whacking her arse for half the afternoon."

"I know," she says.

"So? What's different? Some other bird's holding your cane and now you aint for it?"

Mel looks at Lilly. "Don't you think she's had enough?" she asks.

"She'd had enough the first time you whacked her backside."

The model is trembling on her spot, ducking her hips down to try and ease her bladder pain.

"That girl. Her friends. I don't know what they'll do. I'm not up for the poor kid ending up in casualty."

Billy just glares. "We don't talk about it here," he says. "In the changing room, not around the model."

They stalk away. Malcolm follows their angry progress. "What's happening? What's the matter?" he asks in the room.

The stare at each other with their mouths locked tight. They're gravitating to different sides. A small difference is becoming a widening gulf.

"Um, why don't we just... you know... finish the film off. How does that strike you? You know, put her on this sofa, give her a caning, show her another pose or two, finish the film and send her packing."

Billy glares away.

Mel asks him, "What do you say?"

"It'd be great if we could really go on, obviously." Malcolm is trying to mediate. "We've got masses of footage already though. I mean, great though it is, it's got to end some time."

"Kinks aint seen that much," says Billy. "I've hoiked him out here. He should get to see some decent action."

"He's seen enough already," Mel says.

Malcolm watches the pair of them. He sighs. He realises Lilly is alone again. His head darts to the door.

"Look," he says, "while you're bashing it out, I'll just go and see how the girl's getting on..."

He slopes out of the room and shuts the door quietly behind them. When he's gone, Mel says to Billy, "I think it's getting out of hand."

"No more than when you was smacking her."

"It's not right," Mel says. "Your friend with the cane now, she's grazing the girl. You bring a cane down, you don't deliberately graze."

"You're pissed off cause someone's took your toy away. You're out of your pram."

Mel stares at the lad. "Don't start saying things you'll regret," she tells him.

"I'll say what I fucking like. It's my gaffe."

"Your uncle's place, Billy, not yours."

"Today it's mine. They're my mates out there... Kinks is, anyroad. You done a good job, right? But I want my mates to have a laugh as well. We aint finished yet."

"It's too much. No."

"It aint too much. She's doing what she's told."

They've polarised. "There's a limit," says Mel. "That goth tart's just crossed it."

"You crossed it yourself, babes."

"Not like her."

"Aint following, is you? Crossed it with me, darling." His nostrils flare. He says, "Sling your hook."

Mel's glaring back. She shakes her head. "You stupid little boy."

***

Malcolm shuts the changing room door behind him. He looks around, finds nobody there, and listens out for any sounds. There's a spirited conversation going on, in the back room he thinks, where the sofa is. He slips up to Lilly, camera in hand, and squats down in front of her. Lilly's face is still half in tears, her cheeks are still wet.

"How are you doing, love?" he asks.

"She said I should go, but I can't," she says. "I didn't read it, I didn't read it..."

"Read what? Your contract?"

Lilly starts crying, little panting sobs two seconds apart. "I didn't know, I didn't know."

"Classic beginner's mistake," says Malcolm. He takes his camera and walks around the miserable girl. "Just a quick favour," he tells her, "both hands back and... you know... open up."

The girl sobs anew, her chin starts to tremble.

"Just for the sake of the video," he says.

She reaches back, defeated, hands around her buttocks, and starts to pull.

"Bit further," he says. "You know... as Mel says, some decent effort."

The girl separates her knees. She can't reach far though.

"Tell you what, kneel up."

She lifts her body.

"Good show. Reach from there. Jolly good, really get them under there, grab a couple of nice big handfuls. Fingers further in, that's it. Oh yes, jolly nice. Now... yes, bend forwards, that's the stuff. Bit further. Hips up. Right now... your contract, yes. Well what a shame."

She whines, "I didn't know."

He shakes his head. Here this poor thing is, he thinks, reduced to confiding in some bastard who's happily abusing her.

"Might seem harsh. But you sign it, you mean it."

"But everyone knows I didn't know."

"No, not fair, is it? Oh lord. Well I don't know how much they could sue you for. A lot, I should think. I've got no pull with him whatsoever I'm afraid, I'm a hired hand like yourself. Dear oh dear. You'll just have to grin and bear it I suppose. Well. Grin and spread it, ha ha. No, sorry, inappropriate. But I'm sure you'll get used to it in no time, thousands of girls have before, and so many of them really jolly like it. You will too, I'm quite certain, once you just settle down and let things happen. In fact, a lot of the girls say they find it liberating. It's hard to credit, I know, what with suddenly having to do so many uncomfortable things you've never done before. But there it is, that's what they say. Liberating. To be so, you know... opened wide. Exposed, sort of, utterly. In front of everyone and everything. "

She's sobbing again. The sobs, Malcolm sees with a thrill, are even translating to her undercarriage.

"I just can't even believe how stupid I've been!"

"They say you discover your inner slut. You know, like now. Um, just try touching your chin to the floor? While we're waiting, bit of practice."

"Oh God," she says, attempting to lower her head, "why am I always so fucking stupid?"

"You'll get used to it," says Malcolm.

"I just feel like such an idiot."

"Yes, well..." he says,

"Look at me... bent over like a stupid prat like this. In front of you. In front of those girls..."

"Quite," Malcolm says. "Well that's porn I'm afraid. On this kind of production, things are not so salubrious. Everyone's got to chip in all they can. But you really shouldn't worry. It's perfectly standard to do things this way. And I suppose it might seem like models have to put up with... well, rather a lot... and perhaps they do... but really, truly, every model does it, as everyone's told you already I should think. You see it so often from my side of the camera, you just take it for granted. Hardly look at the girl at all. Bit of a shock for the model I suppose... for first timers, anyway. But we're terribly grateful when the models are so game. You know, so willing to do the production a good turn. The thing is, it can throw you out terribly if they won't fully play the game. And it's an absolute life saver when they do."

Lilly seems to know she's being taken for a ride. "I just can't believe I've got to do all that. That girl poking my... bottom.  My other bits. Why was I so stupid?"

"Yes. I mean, this shoot does seem particularly harsh. We do know you're a beginner, and it's obvious you won't know what you're doing. I mean ideally, if things were normal, we'd be through this by now. With a proper professional model, we would. But in a way, we're doing you a favour here. You're really on the modelling fast-track here. Just learn from Mel, from all her advice. Well... got to really, haven't you? As we've said so many times, you're the only model we've got. And of course, as you point out yourself, you did sign that contract. And it really does cover rather a lot."

He looks around. There's still no-one else present. He reaches forward and cups her pudenda. He rubs it, slips his thumb inside her slick pink hole. Lifts his hand up, touches a finger to her bumhole. Looks around once more and points his camera away. Then he pokes her, quickly. Not that hard. A little sob tickles her body. He pokes again.

"You really are such a good girl," he says, "putting up with everything so well like this."

He pulls back his fingers, then jabs them in strongly. And harder. And again.

"You really mustn't worry," he says. "If you can't get something right the first time, we'll just shoot it again till we've got what we need. You're seem such a nice young girl. The last thing we'd want is for you to have to suffer the consequences. Agreed?"

She sobs. He jabs her.

"Agreed?" he asks.

She nods through her sobs.

"You see?" he says. "Say thank you, now."

Her sobbing is full again. He jabs her twice. Three fingers slip inside.

"Please," she says. "I didn't know..."

He pulls out his fingers, then prods them back in. "We'll shoot, and we'll reshoot, then reshoot again until we have something properly useable."

He looks around. There's nobody there. So he takes his second hand and pushes a finger from that inside Lilly. Then another. Two fingers from either hand. He pulls them apart as much as he can, but Lilly is tight.

"Good girl," he says. "Say thank you now."

She sobs. He pulls strongly. She sobs again. He pushes in deeper with one of his hands. A finger to her anus. He slips the second hand away, pushes in further with the first.

"Say thank you, now."

Inside a sob, she faintly croaks, "Thank you."

Mel is watching. She has her coat on. She's agreed to be paid in cash by Billy. Now she's watching Malcolm abusing the girl. When they went out before, angry and silent, all Malcolm was doing was talking to her. They've gone to the cash box, and Billy's asked her to step out for a moment. She's watching from as far back as she can. The scene looks so creepy. He's got her pulling her back end apart, he's put down his camera, now he's acting like this revolting creep. She can just about see him impaling the girl with fingers up her snatch and a thumb inside her bumhole. She sees the girl jerk back an inch, like he's pulling on the flesh between pussy and anus. There's a furtive look around again, but not in her direction... towards the changing room which she isn't in, then out to where she hears the kids still laughing. Malcolm's free hand reaches under her body. He seems to take a breast before squeezing it. Then he's pulling at her back end. Yanking her back by her perineum. Then yanking on her front end, tugging her forwards by a grip on her breast.

She hears stirring from the kids. Malcolm gives one last furtive look, drops the breast, pulls his fingers out. Then he points the fingers towards her anus. She distinctly sees him jabbing her with them, straight at the hole.

"However long it takes," he says.

23: Kinks and Co fetch a sofa; Nicks and Cal taunt Lilly

When she joins her boyfriend, Sammy finds Kinks waxing lyrical.

"Fuck me, what a blinder! My mate Billy..."

"Yeah, different," says Cal, back behind shades. He leans against a radiator, hands in  pockets.

"What d'you think, Nicks?"

"Yeah," she says. "Alright, yeah. Why's she stop us?"

"Dunno," Kinks says. "What a laugh though, eh? Don't see that on every corner."

"This what your mate does?" Cal asks.

"Billy? It's his uncle's gaffe, Billy's Uncle Cyril. Billy just does what he wants round here. Fucking laugh this, innit babes?" he says to Nicks. "You was enjoying poking that bird."

"Fink that's why she stopped me?" she asks, nasal and monotone.

Sammy's in the room now. She sees Cal and the others in this tight little click. "So doesn't anyone think this is cruel?" she asks.

Nicks just glares at her. Cal snorts, but keeps what can be seen of his face looking straight. Sammy looks hurt. Around his friends, Cal always does this, goes secretive and hidden, playing a part. The sunglasses indoors, the leather like he thinks he's a pop star.

"Bit too much for you, babes?" Kinks asks.

Cal does that tiny snort again.

"Me and Bill," Kinks says, "we get the run. Weekends. Billy's got the keys to the safe, more or less. Codes and that. Helped out on edits, haven't I? Uploading to the server. Ain't for everyone, what they do here."

Cal says to the ceiling, "So there's more tits out there like this one, is there?"

Kinks slips back into mate mode, laughing, "Way more!"

"What a state," says Cal.

"Tit," says Nicks.

Kinks says, "That bird Mel was really murdering her! She's right into it, ain't she?"

NIcks asks, "Who's that baldy bloke?"

"What, old monk's patch? Director, supposedly."

"Thought that was the lady."

"Don't do much for a director, does he babes?"

While they're talking, Cal turns his head to Sammy. He says to her privately, "Just go wiv it."

"What, just let it happen?"

Cal shrugs.

"What does that mean?"

He shrugs again, turns his head away. "Whatever," he says.

"You certainly seem to be enjoying yourself."

There's a pause, then, "Fucking hell."

"You can't keep your eyes off her. Under your glasses."

"Off who?' he asks. "That tit getting caned?"

"I'm sure she's got a name."

Nicks says, "Lilly Bell End."

Cal seems to be staring at Sammy. She thinks it's the first time he's looked at her properly since they got here.

"Christ Sams," Cal says, "don't be a suck."

Sammy stays silent.

"Bit of fun, innit?"

"Not for the poor bloody girl it's not."

Cal tuts. Looks at Kinks through the shades.

"Alright, mate." Kinks says.

"Yeah, a right laugh," Nicks says.

"Fucking hell though," Cal goes to Kinks, "what a state..."

"Tell me about it!"

Nicks says, "Stupid slag."

"Slaag," says Cal.

NIcks says, "Lilly Bell End, slaag."

Cal says, "Slaaag."

Nicks says, "Lilly Bell End Bellman."

Her voice grates on Sammy, the nasal thickness of it.

"Pretty sure I know where she lives," says Nicks. "You remember her, Cal?"

"Who?" he asks.

"The model, dumbo. Lilly Bell End. Know her mum, don't I? She runs this shop. You know her bro, Cal."

"I don't," he says.

"You do! Steven Bellman."

His face changes behind the shades. "Steven Bellman? Older, what, twenty five?"

Sammy hears him sound like himself for a moment.

"Classic!" Kinks says, "you know that bird's brother?"

"He'd fucking die," Cal says.

"What a laugh," says Kinks. "Fink you'd tell him, mate?"

Cal snorts, loud.

Nicks pipes up, "Don't tell him, tell her."

"Tell who? Her mum?"

"No," Nicks says, "course not."

"Who?" Kinks asks.

"Tell the slaag," says Nicks.

Cal says, "Oh yeah... sort of like, power, innit?"

Sammy's staring at them in disgust, but she's not speaking up and they seem to have forgotten her.

Nicks says, "Bell End... the slag... she lives in this place with all bedsits in it, my mate used to live in it. She don't live wiv her mum."

Kinks says, "Oh, what?"

"You fink she wants her mum and her bro finding out?"

"Fucking wicked, Nicks," Cal says, tipping back his head and snorting his laugh.

Sammy has her jaw clamped fast. She's been seeing her boyfriend in a terrible light, all his faults growing rancid like swelling boils. She feels angry and betrayed.

Nicks says, "Know what? We could really fuck her up."

Cal leans forward in a mock whisper. "We could go down the pub with Stevie Bellie. Fell like a piss on the way home, it's all round her place and do it on the slaag."

When Cal says this, Sammy just knows. It's gone. She's repulsed, she feels sick.

He snorts, "Make her bend over and do it up her arse..."

It's like he's just died, like all this hope she had has petrified into a big lump of deadness. She feels like she wants to thump him in the head.

When they come back inside, Billy looks angry, like there's been some argument. Mel is nowhere to be seen. That baldy git Malcolm's still keeping his back turned. Kinks, Cal and Nicks heft the sofa between them. It's brown and old and it creaks when they move it.

Billy hardly seems engaged. He's staring at the exit. Then as they come in further, Sammy spots the balding bloke. He's right behind the model. He's been making her spread her cheeks, she sees. He jumps when he sees them then picks up his camera. She thinks he must have been fiddling, the way he's pretending he was filming all along. The others put the sofa down facing their spot on the workbench, just in front of Lilly. She's there on her knees, hands back, pathetic, still rooted to her spot, cringing and cowed.

***

The balding git picks up his camera and backs away. Goes into the shadows, away from the kneeing girl, then turns on his camera and cautiously watches. Kinks picks his own camera up, checks its leads are attached, then stands in front of the model. He's far more blatant than Malcolm with his camera. The others sit one by one on the sofa. Cal first, by the middle of the kneeling model's side. He pulls out a tobacco pouch and starts rolling himself a cigarette. Nicks plonks down near Lilly's back end. Sammy looks on from a distance, feeling estranged, then quietly approaches and slides in next to Cal. Not close though, not touching. She perches on the sofa edge, with a clear view of the model's head. Lilly is on display in front of them, just three feet away.

"Alright, darling," Kinks says, moving his camera in close. "How you doing, girl?"

Lilly won't look up. She's stopped sobbing, but instead she's gone almost static. She's followed their progress from the corner of her eye. Feeling mortified they've put the sofa down right next to her. Feeling horrified when they've sat on it. She wants desperately to stop all the posing. The degradation, herself as an object of ridicule, on display and stared at like a freak show in an old-time circus.

"Alright, yeah." Kinks answers himself. "Not bad weather, is it? BIt cold, yeah. What a laugh eh, girl?"

Cal leans back. He gets so relaxed, he's almost lying flat, just his head tilted up by the back of the sofa. Feet out in front, well separated so his leather trousers stretch from knee to knee.

"Foot rest here mate," Nicks says beside him.

He snorts, flicks his head to the side. Then he lifts up a boot and puts one nonchalant heel down on Lilly's upper hip, the highest part of her body right now. His other foot follows and crosses over the other at its ankle.

"Classic," says Kinks.

"I know," says Nicks.

Cal drags at his roll-up then tips his head towards the goth girl. "Do her wiv your enema kit."

"Oh I know," Nicks says.

Cal says, "Stick stuff up her arse."

"I know. No shit left, loads of room."

"Bottles and stuff."

"Yeah," Nicks says. "Peel some bananas, shit  like that."

"Stick the peel up her arse as well."

Sammy leans forward so her head is close to the shivering girl's.

"Just get up," she says quietly, right by Lilly's ear. "Just get up and go home. Tell us all to fuck off and die."

Cal snorts behind, saying to Nicks saying that they should try sticking lard up Lilly's arse.

"Stand up for yourself or they'll just get worse."

Lilly whispers, "I can't. You don't know what it's like."

"Maybe not. But whatever, it can't be worse than this."

"It can."

Nicks has the cane in her hand. She's playing with it so its tip is bouncing near Lilly's back end, under then over where her hands spread her cheeks. She starts pointing with the end.

"Like fishing for slag," Cal quips beside her.

"Slaag," says Nicks.

"What is it?" Sammy says louder to the girl. "Are you enjoying this or something?"

Lilly doesn't speak but she faintly shakes her head.

Cal takes one foot off her back. He stretches it under Lilly's body and flicks a dangling breast with the tip of his shoe. Sammy turns her head and gives him a withering stare, but Cal just giggle-snorts like she's egging him on. He probably can't see her expression, she thinks, not stuck behind his stupid bloody shades.

"Do it again," Nicks says to him.

Cal tilts his head to the goth. "How you want me doing it, darling?"

"Like this," Nicks says and jabs her cane close to Lilly's bumhole.

Cal does his snort. Sammy is starting to hate this sound. He pulls his foot back then twangs Lilly's breast. Nicks pulls the cane back and whips it under Lilly's spreading hands, down low on a thigh.

"That enough?" Cal asks his accomplice.

"It's a start," Nicks says.

"You first," he says back.

Nicks lifts her cane up and twangs it down onto Lilly's hips, up above her hands. Kinks puts the tongue of his shoe right under Lilly's dangling breast. He flicks it up so it lifts and falls like a hanging jelly.

"Go on," Nicks says, "do it harder."

"Fink I should?" Cal asks.

"Yeah I do," Nicks says.

Cal kicks upwards. Not hard, but like his accomplice's poking and grazing with the cane, his actions are no longer spanking material.

"They won't stop," says Sammy, leaning close in again. "You're acting like a doormat. If you act like a doormat, they'll treat you like a doormat. Why won't you just defend yourself? Stand up for yourself..."

Malcolm watches through his distant lens. This is different from before, a different feeling. Much more like a horror film. He wonders if he can flash the image so it looks much starker, blanche away some colour for that cold, harsh feel. His lights work well he sees, they're lighting the kids on that sofa pretty nicely. He hadn't imagined they'd sit on it, he'd thought Mel would use it to make the girl take up poses on... diaper position or head between legs or shoulders on the edge with feet splayed out in front. Instead, they're using it to sit close enough to mock the girl in a personal way. That fool in leather pants and shades, using the model as his personal footstool. Playing his foot against Lilly's breast.

He's plugged an earplug to the boom mic on top. He hears the blond girl say, "Is this all you think you're worth then, eh?"

The goth girl says to the leather boy, "Slapper."

The leather boy says, "Slut."

He takes his other foot off her back, scrunches back on the sofa, then stretches both feet out and under the girl. He traps one teat between his shoe tips. He seems to tug down. Malcolm hears Lilly whine. The boy tugs harder. The blond girl is staring at leather boy's face. Malcolm clearly sees a look of revulsion.

The last boy, Kinks, is walking around the scene with his camera. Malcolm likes how he clearly comes across as an amateur, zooming in and zooming out, overactive. He'll use Kinks' shots for short bursts, he can cut them in between his own.

"Billy, go closer. Go in halfway."

The lad is still frowning. He comes up to Malcolm. "Mel's gone," he says. "I've paid her off. She wanted us to stop. I fucking hate that, stopping just as you're getting going."

"You paid her? She's gone?" Malcolm asks.

"Give her cash. She's sloped off."

"Bollocks," says Malcolm.

"Yeah," says Billy.

"Better if she'd stayed for the arc of the thing."

He thinks. He looks through. Thinks about the footage of the kids on the edge. He can make it work if he wants to make the segments link up. It's the story of things getting out of hand. It's the chaos of the shoot that can be his thread. These kids, they're something else.

Malcolm says to Billy, "The goth can take over Mel's caning role. Let them run it. See what happens. Keep your camera stocked up. I'm liking this, Billy."

24: Sammy tells Lilly to defend herself; Nicks works Lilly till she starts to cry

"What's up, Bill? Where's the villain?" asks Kinks.

"Fucked off," Billy says.

"She's gone? Get out, what?"

"Stone cold," says Billy.

"For why, son?"

"Paid her off." Billy doesn't look happy when he tells his friend this. "She'd started saying we was out of order."

"Get out. Fucking why?"

"Gone on too long apparently. Stepped over some line."

"She was prime, that bird. She was up for it, Bill."

"She was, now she's not. Your Nicks can be villain if she feels like a punt."

"Nicks is boss now? Fuck off, no kidding? Can I tell her, Bill?"

"Knock yourself out, mate."

Kinks shuffles up to his girlfriend on the sofa. He whispers loudly, "Nicks, over here."

He's jerking his head to the side... come with me. She gets up and follows.

"You're villain, you're dom," he says. "Do your worst, girl. The slag, you can fuck her up, yeah? However you like, doll. That bird Mel's fucked off. Brilliant, yeah? We're starting back filming with you as villain."

Nicks stares back. "I can do what I want?"

"Yeah babes, stone cold."

Nicks turns back to the sofa. "Cal." She gestures. "Cal! Over here."

The lad lets his shoes give Lilly's breast a final tug, then he rolls up and off the furniture.

"What's up?" he asks.

"Kinks says I can do her. That other bird's fucked off, that Mel. I'm gonna fucking do her good."

Kinks turns to Billy. "It's right this, innit mate?"

"Yeah," says Billy. "Just us, us in here. Malcolm don't mind, he's just happy pointing cameras." He says to Cal, "If you don't want in the picture, better fuck off to the side."

They're looking at Malcolm, who's standing right back, carefully nursing a camera and its running wire. He's holding it steady, still pointing it at the girl on the floor. The blonde on the sofa is also in his shot. He picks up their words.

The blond is saying to the kneeling model, "Stop being such a fucking doormat. Stop being such a ridiculous bint."

"I can't," says the model. "You think I must be doing it cause I want to. But I'm not. I don't even want to be here, do I?"

"So get up and fuck off."

"I can't," she says.

"What's stopping you then?"

Lilly sobs. "I just can't..."

"Jesus," says Sammy. "You fucking loser. You fucking loser."

Cal has come up and leaned behind the sofa. "Sams," he says, "if you don't want them putting you in the edit, you'd better get up now. It's kicking off, doll."

"Hear that?" Sammy asks the kneeling girl. "Kicking off. Starting up. So stand up for yourself, or stay here and suffer."

Lilly's just started crying again.

"I can't do it for you, you stupid tart."

"Please don't," says Lilly.

"Don't what?" asks Sammy.

"Call me stupid. Please. I don't even want to be here, do I?"

"Then for fuck's sake tell 'em by getting up. Nobody's stopping you. Get up, get dressed, take your things and go." Sammy's staring at the girl, waiting for some reaction from her. "Well?" she asks.

Lilly's not speaking. The glances sideways at the blonde but can't keep her gaze there. "You've got to tell me." She's whispered this.

"What?" asks Sammy.

Voice breaking, she manages, "Got to tell me."

"I've got to tell you what?"

"You've got to tell me to get up and go."

Sammy's making a face. "You can't get up till I tell you to? Did you really just say that?"

"I can't. Not less you tell me. Please."

Sammy turns angry. "For fuck's sake you pathetic excuse, tell your fucking self. Don't lay it on me."

"I can't," Lilly moans. "I'm not allowed to."

"You pathetic fucking excuse for a woman."

"Sams," says Cal, "they want to get on."

Sammy stares at the girl. She says, "Well? Is that it? Is that all your fight?"

The girl just sobs quietly, still on her knees, still parting her cheeks, submissive to a fault. Sammy slaps her hands on her knees. She seems to be waiting for the girl to move. When there's no response, she pushes up.

"You fucking loser, you pathetic fucking loser."

She walks out of frame.

Around the kneeling model, cameras and tormentors circle like vultures.

"Go on babes, you're on," Kinks tells Nicks.

***

The goth girl steps up. She looks around at leather boy, gives him the thumbs-up, then grins at Kinks, who's in front of her. Then Nicks steps behind the replacement model. Once more, she looks at everyone looking at her. She's excited, feels special. She turns to the model.

"Oy, slag," she says, "get up off the floor."

The girl tries to look behind at Nicks.

Kinks in front says, "Don't want her taking her hands off her arse though."

"Oh yeah right." Nicks nods. "So... get up, yeah? Only don't take your hands off that big, fat arse."

She looks around again once she's said this. Her mate Cal snorts, then repeats, "Big fat arse," to himself. Nicks meets his look and fires him a grin.

"Yeah, classic," says Kinks.

Lilly is trying, but she just can't do it. She can't get upright, can't rock herself onto her feet from her knees. It's the hands attached to the bum that stop her, they're clamped in so tight, she can't find room to move her knees. She's puffing and panting, whining with bladder pain, trying to get one foot down flat.

Cal says, "Fucking state eh, Nicks? Wanna try summink I just thought of? She could maybe get up if she plonked her head on that sofa first."

"Oh yeah, classic," says Kinks.

"More support, innit? Cause her head can take her weight."

Nicks nods at this. She feels slightly annoyed that they want to join in. "Yeah," she says, "fink I get it." She bats at the sofa with the tip of her cane. "Go on slaggy," she says, "stick your head against them cushions here."

Lilly tries to turn her body, walking on her knees.

"Fuck me," Nicks says. "Faster though, what? Anyone would think you was a fucking snail."

Nicks clips down her cane. The knee-clumping quickens. Lilly gets her head to the edge of the sofa, puffing through her nose with the strain and effort. She puts weight against her head, tries to stumble to her feet. The sofa shifts away. Cal snorts, Kinks giggles, shaking his camera. Lilly tries the manoeuvre again. She gets partway up so she's making an arc. The sofa slips a second time.

"I'll hold it," Billy says. He goes around and leans against the upright back of the piece, pointing his camera down at the girl's spine.

She goes for it again. She cranes herself up so her head is on the cushion and feet on the floor.

"Jesus Christ, she looks so fucking stupid," Cal says behind.

"I know," says Nicks. "Oy you, stop," she says to the girl, "don't move now, alright?"

She swishes her cane, making it sine wave. She points it down low. She cracks a shot into Lilly's thighs.

"Look at the state of it," Cal snorts behind.

Nicks clips the tip of the cane over the top of Lilly's haunch. "You're a fat arsed tart you, aren't you?" she says.

There's no response. She pokes the cane tip low at Lilly's pudenda. She pokes it home.

Cal snorts behind, "Make her jump up and down, she'll look classy then." He's laughing at the image inside his own head.

"Yeah alright," says Nicks. "Alright Cal, yeah. Oy slapper, keep your head down on the sofa, yeah? Only jump your arse end up and down."

The girl bends her knees. A whine escapes.

"Go on, you fat ugly cunt," Cal sniggers.

He's come closer so he's standing just behind Nicks. Kinks, meanwhile, kneels in right beside the girl. Looking under her body, he can see her stressed face.

The girl whines again. Nicks pokes her leg almost casually with the cane, then pokes it again. Even Sammy is looking in at the scene. Though part of her horror is seeing how far Cal is from the person she'd dreamed he was. Her red-faced rage of earlier has sunk to tight-jawed, secret hatred now. Each time he speaks she dislikes him more. She can barely believe how she felt before.

Cal is saying, "Go on, cunt."

The bullied girl tries to make herself jump. Her head stays on the sofa edge. Her feet pace to get themselves flat. Bent knees partly straighten, her hips flip up, and she bobs in the air like an idiot frog.

"Fucking classic," Kinks says.

Nicks says, "Go on fat arse, higher, yeah?"

The girl thumps down, bends her knees, pushes up with her toes, thuds down, repeats.

Nicks kicks the girl's feet wider with an instep. "Oy you slaggy, spread 'em out."

Lilly widens her feet as she thuds and thumps. Her hands are slipping now, they can't keep up the contact. Nicks taps one of her hands with her cane.

She says, "We wanna have a look at your arse proper, slag. Your enormous, disgusting, giant fat arse."

Lilly's quaking hands try to get a better grip. She's walking in her fingers, puffing and grunting, thumping up and down with her head as a fulcrum, feet ridiculously wide apart, being leered at by the jeering group.

"What a stupid fucking tit," says Cal.

"She don't look happy," says Kinks underneath.

They just let her do it, like they're mesmerised. She jumps up, she thumps down. They let her carry on for a minute or more. Cal and Nicks bend lower to stare between her legs. Cal gives her a wave, then snorts and grabs his goth friend's arm.

Cal says, "Alright, slag?"

Nicks asks, "Feeling like a tit yet, fat arse?"

"Her arse is fucking massive, innit babes?"

"I know," says Nicks. "Oy, fat arse, take your hands away!"

Lilly creeps her hands aside so her generous cheeks are fully revealed. But true to Mel's instruction from before, she keeps on jumping up and thumping down. Her quivering cheeks are ruddy and marked. Goose bumps seem to stand proud and raw. There are cellulite dimples, score lines, ridges, colours ranging from red and blue to the the dirty yellow of developing bruises.

Cal, behind, says, "Fucking what? That's the single fattest arse I've ever seen."

Nicks steps back. She lifts the cane back. "Mind out," she says. Then she thrashes it into the model's rear. "Go on, keep on jumping, you stupid fat cunt."

The girl's quaking hands support her weight on either side of her tortured face. She continues to jump, legs quaking with the effort. Her back end lumbers up and down. The goth swings back so her friends have to scatter. She canes in hard. The rod batters down. The goth develops a cruel rhythm. She waits for Lilly's flesh to vibrate when she lands, then smashes in the cane. Lilly's flesh parts in waves from the impact points. She jumps... lands... quakes like a jelly. Then she's struck with new force in separating waves across her giant globes. Lift... thump... swish-crack, lift... thump... swish-crack. Nicks is trying to hit her as hard as she can. She's grunting with the effort as she hammers in her cane. Lilly's cheeks splash and dance. Nicks tries to copy Mel's technique, aiming for a spot, but her strokes are much wilder. She gets the model low on a thigh. Next, too high with a cruel whip over. New stripes appear around the girl's hip fat.

"Is her jumps getting weaker?"

"Yeah," says Cal.

"Oy slaggy, jump higher!"

She punctuates her words by poking the cane tip directly into the model's broad back end.

"Go on slapper, faster, yeah?

She pokes again. Cal snorts out his laugh. The girl's thumping feet pick up in pace. Lilly takes her cane in two hands and holds it closer, halfway down its length.

"Faster, slag," she says as she pokes the girl in a quick stabbing sequence.

As the thumbs get close together, the girl makes sounds between grunts and whimpers. Nicks swings again, two handed, close in, bashing the cane with all her force. She looks manic, demented. Her black hair whips in sweaty lengths. She canes low, then higher, with the tip, further in. Then she's standing back once more, giving it the full swing, swiping it down onto Lilly's right cheek, bashing it harder, bashing on her legs. The girl, head in the sofa, grunts and moans and whimpers and puffs.

Nicks suddenly stops. She says, "Oy you, slaggy. Open your back end up wide again, yeah?"

The girl takes a moment to react. There's a final thump, then, steadying on her head once more, she starts to reach back with tired, sore arms. Nicks reaches over and pulls the girl's hair.

"Only stick your head back here," she says.

Lilly stops, confused. Nicks tugs on the hair. Then she leans right down and half lifts the girl, forcing her head to the back of the sofa. The model ends sprawled on her front, face mashed in the material.

"Yeah Nicks, make her stick her feet up," says Cal.

"I know," says Nicks, "I was going to, weren't I?"

She's handling Lilly, pushing her shoulders up against the sofa back. She manhandles her hips, pulling up roughly then banging a palm heel in the middle of a padded mound. The girl is trying to lift a leg up. Nicks grabs a thigh and hauls on it, grabs the girl's ankle and jams it down on the lip of the sofa. Lilly's other foot comes up. Toes touch the sofa edge then slip back off. Nicks sticks a palm against Lilly's crotch. She heaves against the girl so her hips are touching the back of the sofa and Billy has to jump away. With Lilly fully up, Nicks takes an ankle and tugs it sideways. Then she does a Mel and pulls Lilly's arm back for her. She drags the girl's wrist around her bum. She forces the bum cheek back under the arm by smacking her palm down on the girl's wide rear. Nicks is standing up on the sofa as well. Billy supports it when it starts to tip over. Nicks gets a knee on the girl's broad cheek, kneels against it, pulls the wrist back. She clamps Lilly's hand down.

"Fucking hell," she's going, "there's enough arse here to feed the starving."

Lilly's other arm is flailing to get the required grip till Nicks grabs that as well. She forces Lilly's second cheek wide with a leaning knee. Then the  wrist is yanked and the cheek is wedged.

Lilly, naked but for shoes, socks and bra, stares out at her tormentors, upside down. She hasn't been able to see them for a while. She sees four, then five. They're staring at her. Hands up to mouths. Heads shaking. Voices laughing.

"What a fucking state," one says.

"What a fat-arsed cunt," says another.

A face comes close. It's waving a hand. It says, "Alright, darling? enjoying yourself?"

The face retreats, a camera intrudes.

"Give us a smile, darling. Give us a grin."

There's a pain in her groin, the stabbing of the cane tip. The black haired girl says, "You heard my bloke, slag. Smile for him, yeah?"

The pain again, then a second by its side.

"Smile, you silly cow."

Lilly tries. Her face muscles try to move when she tells them. They won't though... they can't. Her face can't lie. She tries to make it. They're all leering, laughing, pointing, snorting. Video cameras suck up all of her anguish. The leather boy has a phone in his hand and he's snapping pictures as fast as he can. She feels a vibration run through her body. Her face dissolves. Her eyes blur in tears.

Then the sobbing starts for real. Full, body-wracking sobs are shuddering through her in panting short breaths. Her face muscles spasm, her chin muscles crush. A camera shoves right in on one side of her face, wide-angled, recording. The cane cracks cruelly down on a thigh. She can't see. She can't breathe. Her throat is wailing without her volition. She's never felt this bad before. The cane cracks in.

"Defend yourself," the blond girl is saying. "Why the fuck won't you try to defend yourself?"

She barely hears it between her own sobs and her shivering body. The crying grinds through her.

"Just tell them to stop. Just once, you moron. Tell them to fucking leave you alone."

She sobs, she shudders. She knows she can't speak. Her hands lose their grip, then pathetically try to regain it again. Fingers try to claw her cheeks back wide. Slowly, walking, automatic.

"Just tell them to stop, you ridiculous bint."

"Go it Sams," the leather boy says to the blonde.

The cane cracks in on her other thigh. It's casual, accompanied by a laugh. The goth girl turns and mugs to her friends. She's caning the model without even looking.

"Fucking state," says leather boy.

Lilly's entire body quivers and spasms. Knees, wrists, torso. Blows come on her haunches, quickly, from the top. Lilly's hands can't hold. The right one detaches. It's trembling at the wrist.

Her arse is truly generous... great chunky cheeks stand out, joining her thighs at almost a right-angle to the ground. She has curves galore, big and dirty. Now the hands have detached again, the cane makes them splash and dance. She's trembling, far beyond dignity. Everyone laughing. Everyone mocking. Everyone hating.

"Lilly Bell-End Bellman," says Nicks up close.

The voice is right there, she can feel its breath.

"Alright Bell-End? Bet you didn't know we knew your name. Want to know a secret, yeah? My mate Cal knows your bro. Goes in the pub wiv him, Queen's Arse, aren't it? Oh yeah sorry, Queen's Arms."

Nicks bangs a fist on the girl's tortured arse.

"You stupid fat cunt. Me, I go in your mum's shop, don't I? Down London Road, all swiss rolls and tins of beans and crap. Think I'll tell your mum what an idiot stupid fat slag you are. We all know here, I've give out your address. Cause you know what else, slag? Me and my mates, we all know where you live."

25: Lilly loses bladder control

Nicks is right there, in close, when she senses something wierd around her shoulder. It's hot and it's spreading. She jerks her shoulder, like a giant twitch. She has a sudden fear that she's covered in blood. She jumps back. Puts her hand down. Staring, squeezing. No pain, no vivid red. She looks up at the others.

Sammy's saying, mouth open, "Oh... my God."

There are sounds like splashing. She looks at the sofa. She sees yellow liquid streak and fall in little spurts. Sees a line of wetness down the idiot's leg. It comes in fits and bursts, in dribs and drabs. The sobbing girl even looks like she's trying to stop it. There's tortured concentration all over her face. The spurts keep pausing, then they squirt out again.

"Oh my God," says Sammy.

A spurt shoots out sideways. It dribbles down the model's thigh. The leather boy laughs with an uncontrolled splutter. His laugh seems infectious. Kinks joins in in a lower register. Lilly tries to move her wet leg sideways. She bobs her piss-soaked crotch up and down.

The boy snorts again. "Fucking no," he giggles, "can't take anymore..."

Lilly's face is splashed by her own urine. She's keening, crying in high pitched, painful squeaks. She tries to make the pissing stop. She shakes her hips wildly up and down. The piss hits Kinks' camera, gets him in the face.

"Oh God," says leather boy, "fucking hell!" He sputters uncontrollably.

They watch Lilly shake her hip again. When she does it, they laugh together... there are snorts and guffaws. Even the blond girl is laughing now. As Lilly bobs, the piss splashes in arcs. Their laughter is cued by her movements, like they're all with the comic at a comedy show.

Lilly's bladder just lets go. Full and uncontrolled, wide and thundering. Nicks swats the cane in straight through the piss stream. Thundering piss hits Lilly's ankles, sprayed around by her bobbing hips.

Cal snort-laughs, "Get her in her crotch, Nicks!"

The goth takes the cane and flashes it down towards the girl's labia. It's none too accurate, gets one side more. Piss streams down the cane length towards the goth's hand. She tries again, goes down low, starts doing it quickly, gets a rhythm interrupting the giant thread of piss. Lilly's gushing her load in a cascade she's quite unable to control.

"Crack her it in her hole, Nicks!" Leather boy has started holding his ribs.

Nicks tries. She can't get it. The leather boy's snorting starts the goth girl off again.

Nicks tries poking. "Fucking get in," she says. She jabs down several times.

The leather boy goes, "Fucking hell Nicks, you nearly had it!"

The goth dissolves in laughter... she's laughing so hard, she can't control the cane. In the pause, Lilly staggers her hips down again. She lifts one leg, tries to shake off the piss. They pause as they watch this, like they're waiting for the punch line. Then the model squeals as she jerks down her hips. Piss flicks in an arc, then her arsehole opens up, completely wide, and sighs out a fart.

As a group, the watchers explode in laughter. They're crying with it, not holding back. Big guffaws, falling over. The goth laughs so hard she slips into the model and gets a streak of piss all down her clothes. The model, pushed aside, tries to jam her leg down to stop falling over.

It's Billy who reaches down and pulls her back up. At first, he can't get her. He drops down his camera. He grabs a thigh from above and pulls it up. Lilly becomes up completely up-ended, legs in the air, her piss flow, held back so long, still going. With her hips in the air, the piss spurts straight up then lands back down on Lilly's arse. It flows to either side, down the front and over her belly, down the back between her globulous cheeks.

"Lilly Bell End Bellman, fuck me sideways!" Cal is on the floor. He's laughed so much he's lost his footing. "Lilly Piss Arse Bellman."

It catches Lilly's throat, the hate from the past and the shame from the present. Her throat feels like she's swallowing thorns.

"Fucking hellers," Billy says. He's got one thigh under either wrist. He pretends to put his head down to drink, to sputters from the rest. He's parted her thighs so she's doing the splits. The slowing piss pushes out from her crotch.

Kinks says to Nicks, "Babes, I got some bands. Stick 'em round her tits!"

"Bands?" Nicks asks. She's almost insensible in front of the sofa.

"Round her tits and that."

Nicks looks. Kinks is scrabbling in his pocket, pulling out a mess of elastic bands.

"Stick 'em round her tits, doll."

With Billy holding the girl's hips high, her tits are exposed and draping down. They flop upside down, white undersides falling away towards her head. Piss streaks drip off from one of her nipples, which look swollen, milk glands standing proud from a prominent, dark aureole.

Lilly's weight is supported by her head and hands, which are jammed down into the cushion. Nicks gets off the floor and kneels in front of the piss-soaked girl. She's taken the bands from Kinks.

She says, ironically "Alright, Bell End?"

Then she reaches with both hands, grabs a tit and pulls it outwards. she takes a band and opens it up with her other hands. She scrunches it over the prone girl's breast.

"Take her bra off babes, it's pissing me off."

Nicks takes a handful of bra and just pulls. The bra stretches, tugging on the girl. Then Nicks lets go.

"No babes, take it off proper."

As the laughter dies away, the attention has focused on Nicks once more. Nicks pulls the bra around Lilly's body. She unbuttons the back and slides it out. Red lines are prominent underneath the bra's old contact points. Nicks looks around at her friends once again, then grips Lilly's tits, taking big handfuls. She squeezes them. Pulls them apart from each other. Squeezes comically with the tips of her fingers.

"Bung the rest of the bands on, babes."

Nicks takes a few and stretches them around her fingers. She takes the same breast as before. She roughly pushes them over it and lets them snap off. The bands don't reach to the back of the breast, so Nicks pulls one side up and drags them back. Her fingers are pushing far into the upended girl's breasts to do this. Skin gets trapped, but Nicks just ignores it. Nicks pulls and snaps till the bands sit round the base of the breast. She takes some more, stretches them around her fingers again. Gets the other breast in a nasty grip, pulls it long, cups her other hand over and lets the elastic bands snap off. Again she tugs at them cruelly, till they're worked to the back. The breasts stand out now, prominent.

"You got any more, babes?" Nicks asks Kinks.

He fishes a final few from his pocket. Nicks, with no apparent concern for Lilly,  jams them over her secont tit any old way. By now they're bothj ballooned, crushed tight at the base, blood flow constricted. Nicks puts one gripping hand around either breast, cupping them. They're almost too big, her hands barely cover them. She squeezes, presses, pulling back, before slowly milking the ends like a cow.

Nicks grips hard onto Lilly's nipples. She pulls them up towards the girl's waist, then pulls them down.

She says, "Bet your mum don't know you're a such a slaag."

Nicks' boyfriend says, "Pull her tits again, Nicks."

"Yeah," says Cal, who's picked up Billy's camera and making out like he's Mick Jagger. "Give 'em a yank there, Nicolaa."

Nicks grips harder. She shakes Lilly's globes.

"Go on, girl," Kinks says.

Nicks looks at her boyfriend. He takes one hand off his camera and mimes jerking Lilly's tit down.

Nicks asks, "Yeah?"

"Go on Nicks," says Cal, "like your bloke says, do 'em proper."

Nicks pulls outwards. Lilly's torso jerks.

"Go on, girl."

Nicks is looking back at her boyfriend's face. She yanks the breasts harder.

They've all stopped laughing. "Go on babes," Kinks says, "do 'em again."

Nicks takes another firm grip, right around the neck of the breasts. She stands in front of Lilly. She gets her hands right around the girl's breasts... The girl starts to squeal in high pitched, terrified anticipation.

Lilly pulls up, hands clamping and crushing. The girl's head is partly lifted, but Nicks' hands slip off. Lilly staggers back. Cal does a half laugh. Nicks takes a different grip this time. She pinches the front of Lilly's breasts in fierce crushing fists. She stands up straight and pulls upwards. Lilly's head is lifted clear.

Nicks says, "Come on, Bell End, up you get!"

"Go it babes," says Kinks is husking.

Nicks grips again, then leans backwards. Lilly is pulled outwards, up and off the sofa so only reaching hands are left in contact. At the back of the stretch, Nicks lets go. The girl flops back.

Nicks goes back in and scoops the breasts up like two sacks of potatoes. Squeezes the nipples, twists them, tugs, then grips them like two mugs of ale. She pulls Lilly up again.

"Come on you silly cunt," she says, "be a good slag now."

"Slaag," says Kinks.

"Slaaag," says Nicks. She gives a sudden jerk to Lilly's breasts, quite vicious.

"Do her," Kinks husks.

Nicks gives one more vicious jerk, then lets go and gives one breast a solid slap. The breast rebounds before settling back. The girl's whining is rhythmic, pulsing quickly with her shallow breaths.

Behind her boyfriend, Sammy says clearly, "Just tell them to stop. Just tell them once, you stupid cow."

Lilly's chin instantly wrinkles and rucks and her torso shudders.

"Yeah, Nicks," Cal says. "Don't hog the slag all to yourself girl, let Sams have a bash."

"She won't," says Nicks. She slaps at a tit. "She keeps telling the slag to tell us to stop."

Billy lets go of the model's legs. "No, let her," he says. He's eyeing Sammy. She's the only one who's been seeming in the slightest bit reluctant. Billy feels like putting her on the spot.

Lilly has collapsed, released by the lad. Her head is still underneath, but her body has slumped over the top of it, her big globed arse now her highest point. Her knees rest on the front of the sofa.

Nicks says, "Yeah. Better give your Sams a proper view."

She grabs the girl's wrists and pulls them around her arse once more. Manhandles her hips up so she's back in her original pose. Mashes her bum cheeks under Lilly's weak hands. Exposes her undercarriage fully once more. Then she turns and steps aside.

Cal has his arm on his girlfriend's back. He's urging her forwards.

Nicks says, "Like a bit of the back end, Sams?"

Sammy doesn't move. Cal says, "Hang on a minute, fink I'll do a prequel." He hands the camera behind the sofa to Billy and steps up to the model. He stands looking down at her crotch, glances at his girlfriend, then quickly looks back to the model's mashed-up arse. His fingers reach down, then pull back in. Another glance at Sams, then he pushes one thumb inside Lilly's vagina. His other thumb sticks in beside it too. He pulls the rim of her fanny open. Snorts, pulls again, then lets it close. He grips her labial lips and works them. "I'm a stupid cunt," he says, like her back end is saying it for her. Then he curls up, sniggering. Sammy stares. What a creep, she thinks, what a total wanker.

"Fancy a bit then, Sams?" Cal asks.

"Go on Sammy," Nicks is saying. "Bet you'd like to really... bit of cunt, yeah?"

"Yeah go on babes," Cal snorts, and tips his shades across his eyes.

Nicks reaches in. She squeezes Lilly's tits alternately. Cal makes a stupid honking noise.

"Try her, Sammy," Nicks says, "came and feel up the slag."

"Yeah Sams," Cal snorts, "lick her out!"

Nicks licks her lips, looking straight at Lilly. Then reaching between the model's legs, she takes a grip on one of Lilly's tits. She yanks her hand up. Lilly jerks, letting out a squeal. Nicks does it again with the other breast.

"She don't dare," says Nicks. She jerks hard on Lilly's tit-ends, grips and jerks again. Her face looks manic, the contempt transparent under spiky black hair.

Lilly starts to cry again quietly, a soft, silent shuddering running through her body. Her hands barely grip her broad, bruised cheeks. Nicks gives a tit a nasty pull.

"Hands," she says, and slaps one with her own. Lilly starts walking her fingers in, pulling her generous cheeks back apart, digit by digit. Kinks sees through his camera that she's not even opening her cunt this time. She's spreading her cheeks either side of her bumhole.

"Go on, Sams," Cal says, "lick out her arsehole."

Sammy glares at in complete contempt. Stares back at the poor girl's tortured arse. Sees how ungainly, how utterly without dignity she is. Pathetic. Cal gives Sammy a small shove, which staggers her forwards. The blonde clamps her jaw tight. Cal pushes again. Sammy jerks her arm out, hitting his hand off.

"Fuck off," she says. Her jaw pushes down but his lips stay sealed. There's tension in the way she stands, in her face, in her hands.

"Can't, can you?" Nicks jibes.

Sammy steps forward. She touches a hand to the model's bruised cheek. Strokes it, taps it.

"Give her a lick, babes."

Sammy turns on Cal. "Shut... up!" she yells. "You fucking wanker, you wanky fucking moron!"

The room falls silent. She turns to the girl, looking down on her marked and open crotch. A hand pats down on a cheek, unsure.

"Just tell me to leave you alone," she says.

There's no reply.

"Please, tell me not to do this."

"Go on Sam girl, do her," whispers Kinks.

Sammy creeps her left hand around the girl's right thigh, at the top where it joins her bending hip, almost as if to pull the girl toward her. Billy has his camera trained on her face.

"Tell me just once, you silly fucker. Say no. Just say no."

She hears a noise from down below. She can't make it out.

"You what?" she asks.

"I can't," she hears.

It's barely a whisper. The voice sounds broken, rough and sore. Sammy feels a shudder of crying through her arm. Then it happens again.

"Just tell me," Sammy says.

"I'm sorry," she hears. "I'm sorry. Sorry. Sorry I can't, I'm sorry." There's snivelling as well. A crying jerk. "I'm sorry," says the girl. I can't, I can't say no."

Billy catches the change of expression. The sudden, pure hatred on Sammy's face. It's overwhelming and bitter. She pulls her free arm back. They think she's going to spank the girl hard. But the hand makes a fist, and the fist, accelerating, hammers down into Lilly's crotch.

Lilly twists, held in place. They hear her grunt.

"Fuck," says Kinks.

"Fucking fuck," says Cal.

Sammy turns and looks. Every face in the room seems frozen in surprise, every mouth is open. There's silence except for Lilly's high squealing.

"Go on Sams," Kinks whispers.

All eyes stare back, No-one else speaks. Lilly's face looks different as well. Her mouth is a slit as she squeals between breaths, like she's caught in the middle of a panic attack. Nicks licks her lips.

Cal says, "Fuck, Sams. What the fuck?"

Sammy turns. Her fist hammers down.

26: Carmine returns; Lilly does the bunny hop

Carmine is standing near Kinks and Cal, looking quite unsure. They're looking at her.

"Where's Lilly?" she asks.

The two boys don't answer. They look around them, unsure where she came from.

"Where's Lilly? Where's the model?"

"Bog," says Cal.

Carmine stares at him. "Bog, yeah. Girlie stuff."

"Where's Billy then?"

Kinks shrugs. "Dunno. With the bald bloke I fink, in some room back there. Stuff with cameras."

Cal says, "Might be finished for the day."

"So Lilly's in the toilets?"

She hears noises. Carmine darts her head. She's marching off before anyone stops her. She opens a door and stands looking in.

Three girls are frozen in a tableaux. The central one has her back to the door. They've made her kneel up on a basin, knees wide. There's a dressing gown around her shoulders but her buttocks are exposed.

Guilty eyes look around at Carmine. Two under blonde hair, two under black hair. The third head turns. It has mouse brown hair. Its eyes stare back, wide.

"Oh God," the head says. "God, Carmine... Oh God."

Her face seems so puffy, mascara streaked. It looks red, it looks shellshocked.

Carmine's reaction is instant... she looks such a fucking state. My God. She shakes her head. She can barely believe it.

It's her arse though, that's what really gets her. That generous backside she lusted after, that glorious flesh she first saw in the Gym. A tube is running into its center. Above, there's a stand. The black-haired girl has been squeezing hard on an object hanging from it. A second object lies wet in a sink, a third is being held at the ready by the blonde.

"Carmine," says Lilly. "Oh God, oh God..."

Carmine understands. They're filling her to bursting. She bets this process has been happening for some time.

Carmine is staring at Lilly's broad bum cheeks. She can barely believe it's the same one she remembers. They are multicoloured. Livid weals and marks criss-cross this way and that. There are purples and browns, yellows and reds. Patches of bruising extend from the center, surrounding clusters of impact points. Marks extend high to hr upper haunches, low down below her chunky hanging cheeks. Her thighs seem battered. There are thick lines, thin lines, long marks and short marks.

"Oh my God," says Carmine. "Lilly. Oh my God."

Billy is behind her. He touches her arm.

"Kinks told us you was here."

Carmine turns and looks up at her cousin.

"Billy," she says, "my God. Who are they?"

She turns her face back towards the girls. Eyes wide, expression shocked. The blonde has screwed the cap in the newly filled hot water bottle. The goth girl has let the hanging one run empty. Lilly's face looks mortified, pleading.

"God," she says, "Carmine. Oh bloody hell. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Carmine's jaw falls even wider than before. She's blinking, astonished. She suddenly turns and clasps onto Billy. She pushes her face into his chest.

"Take me out," she says, "take me out of here..."

Billy looks down. He feels jerking from his cousin's body, feels trembling like she's starting to cry. He strokes her head clumsily, tries to pat her back.

"You alright?" he asks.

He puts one arm around her shoulder, guides her out. She's covering her face. Little shudders rack her torso. Outside, he holds her out a bit and tries to get her to look at him.

Carmine isn't sobbing, she's holding it in. One arm clutches her ribs, the other arm holds her hand to her mouth. Snorts of laughter are sounding from her. She sees her cousin's face, the concern, the guilt. She can't hold it any longer.

Inside the Ladies, Lilly hears her laughing. It's big and unstable, full and whooping. Her fluttering of hope turns to mortified shame. The blond looks at the goth. She hands her the new hot water bottle. The goth detaches the empty one and feeds in the new one.

"Whose is this one?" Nicks asks.

"That's the bald git's," says Sammy.

"Fucking full enough," says Nicks. "Who's left after this then?"

"Just me," says Sammy.

"Go on then," says the goth.

The blonde takes the empty bottle. She goes into a cubicle and lowers her trousers. She unscrews the bottle top and squats down over it. It takes her a moment. It feels alien. Then the piss starts to flow. It dribbles into the top of the bottle, then runs, then gushes. She hopes there's enough room in there for the lot. Sammy groans. She sighs. She bottles up her piss. Dabs her crotch with some tissue, then zips up her trousers. Outside, she hands the floppy bottle to the goth, who's been squeezing the one on the rig till it's empty. Lilly is groaning. Where the tube goes inside her intestines, an inflatable ball keeps a nozzle in place. They've pumped it up to maximum capacity. Nicks is adept at working the seal to let liquid in but nothing out.

The blond girl looks through a camera on a tripod, to check that a recording is still being made. She hands the goth the final bottle.

"Fink you should do the honours, girl. It's your piss after all." She turns to the model. "Alright, lovey? Everyone's piss up your arsehole feel good? Nice and warm though, innit?"

The goth attaches the bottle to the rig. The model just groans.

"Here Sams," says the goth, "she ain't answering again. Give us a hand, babes."

The blond goes around one side of the girl and reaches a hand under her chest. The goth reaches in from the other side. Underneath the model, her generous breasts are ballooned and swollen. Dark red, almost brown.

"What d'you fink, babes?" the goth asks. "Pull 'em about or give 'em a thump?"

"Poking and pinching," the blond girl says.

"Oh yeah, sounds like a laugh."

She sticks her thumb up and stabs it into the model's breast. The blond does the same to the breast nearest her, then viciously pinches a nipple as well.

"If I ask you a question, you should know to fucking answer. All yours now, babes."

The girls swap places. The blond goes to the enema rig.

"Can I take it down when I squeeze it, hon?"

"Be my guest," says her friend.

"I want her down on the floor as well."

They make the groaning model climb down off the sinks. Sammy makes her kneel in front of her.

"Get the camera," she says to the sniggering goth.

Sammy takes the bottle. She puts it on the floor. She climbs down, puts her hips over the bottle where she can sit on it.

"Get her front. Her face and over the top, babes."

Then she sits. She bounces. She squeezes the bottle as fast as she can. As Lilly groans, the blond girl laughs. She puts all her weight down onto it and lifts up both feet. She kicks forwards, straight into the model's massive cheeks with both her shoe heels. As she kicks, she bounces her bum up and down. Piss squeezes with force inside the model's already full intestines.

She laughs as she kicks at the girl's giant globes. She falls backwards, legs apart in the air, sits back up, bounces, kicks again. The goth laughs too. The model kneels between them, groaning and grunting and never saying stop.

***

They've gagged her mouth with her own used knickers. She waits behind the ladies' toilet door. Nicks is out already with a rope in her hands. Sammy stands inside, behind the unfortunate replacement model.

The rest of the crew wait outside in the studio. It's the final act... they've agreed that Carmine can take her home in just a few minutes. They think doing this might be funny though, might make a decent final update for Billy's Uncle's website. The three cameras are held by Malcolm, Billy and Kinks. Cal has his phone in his hand, plus Nicks' phone and even Sammy's, since they all want a record. They've told him all about how to use them. The last of the watchers, Carmine, holds a digital SLR.

"Ready?" Nicks asks.

"Ready," says Sammy.

Nicks pulls on a rope, which opens a door. Then she gives it a tug. Her lips fake a fanfare.

The model jumps out. She's naked except for shoes and socks. She hops her way forwards like a human kangaroo. Her wrists reach down and over her backside. They all know instantly that she's holding her undercarriage apart.

Something protrudes between her legs, a stick of some sort. It's green... a cucumber is held in place by a rig of string which wraps up around the model's waist. It's big enough that she can't close her thighs even if she tries to.

As she jumps her way into the room, it's clear that something is trailing behind. From her front side comes the rope, held by Nicks, who gives it a tug when the model lands to encourage her on. It's attached to Lilly's breasts, which look swollen and sore... nearly purple in colour. They're protruding like balloons, these great round bumpers.

Behind, the enema tube drags low. It emerges from lilly's behind, but when she jumps, it stretches like it's dragging a weight. As the model hops further, its secret is revealed. A full hot water bottle is attached.

Nicks sees them looking. "Not piss," she says, "all that's inside her!"

The model hops into the room between waiting cameras and jeering people. Sammy follows behind, cane in hand. She drives the model on by flicking it left of one thigh, right of the other. She grins for the cameras. Nicks yanks her tits, Sammy canes her thighs. As she bunny hops, the detached bunny tail drags along the floor in watery jerks.

"Yeah, nice one," Kinks says.

Cal snorts. "Brilliant, yeah babes."

Malcolm gives a wave to the struggling model when she looks in his direction. Billy stands with Carmine. She sees the model coming towards them. She turns to her cousin and kisses him, mouth to mouth, tongue to tongue, so Lilly can't mistake what she's seeing.

"Fucking hell, Carmine," Billy says, surprised.

"That's for her. Don't get any ideas," she tells him.

Nicks gives Lilly a little yank. At the back, Sammy stands on the dragging bottle. The girl, caught between them, stumbles to her knees.

"We've had a bit of a talk," says Nicks, "about whether we should tell your bro and your mum. You know what? We fink we might hold back for a bit. Yeah? Only what I done is, so you know why we're being nice, I give everyone here your address. I wrote it on them little cards and I give it out so they keep 'em in their wallets. So, you want us to keep our mouths shut darling, you better let us in when we ring your bell. And Billy back there, he's kindly agreed to give you more work modelling. He might get you in live and batter your arse. Might make a bit of a business at it, yeah? We could do, like, parties. Get you out and give everyone a laugh. Whatever," she says. "Sure we'll fink of something."

Carmine puts here hand up. "Could I say something here?"

Nicks stops and shrugs.

"As Lilly's agent, I'd just like her to know that she's really done pretty well today. Although... I must point out... that she's been a bit more pioneering than she possibly thinks. Just in case you still think I've modelled for porn sites, darling. Well... sorry. Bit of an assumption on your part, that was. I once posed for half a dozen snaps by our Billy here..." She strokes his arm. "But really, love, they were terribly tame. My knickers came off, but... well, sorry Lils, my legs stayed together." She shrugs. "So next time you look a the internet, darling, just think... you've gone further than most girls on it. A lot, lot further when I Iook at you now. But I think I might speak for others here... you've not done badly today. Billy says they can use a few minutes. So... well, we should give the girl a round of applause. If she'd do us the favour of jumping up and down."

Lilly starts to clap. Nicks tugs Lilly's tits, Sammy snaps at her a thigh. The model, full to bursting with everyone's piss and in obvious pain, begins her awkward, demeaning bunny hop. The others join in ironically. As they clap, there are jeers.

"Go it, Slaggy."

"Nice one, fat arse,"

"Go on, higher, Bell End."

She doesn't have tears left... she's used to it now. And as she hops in pain, guts cramping, shape ridiculous, she notices everyone is watching her. They may have trussed her like a turkey, may be laughing at her, not with her, but she has their full attention. All day she's had it.

Photos snap. Cameras roll. Seven people can't take their eyes off her. She's never had such constant attention like this. She stumbles to her feet and starts hopping with more vigour. She doesn't care anymore. She throws caution to the winds. She chooses to go faster, bend further, make her legs go that bit wider, turn her feet to a more ungainly angle. As she hops, she lifts her hands away and slaps her own arse. She feels it springing, splashing, bouncing back. She lets herself start to groan and grunt. She can't appear more ridiculous now, she has no more dignity left to lose. She knows what they want... they want her looking stupid... idiotic and ridiculous. They want to be able to laugh at her, to externalise their own fear of ridicule, to project it away onto somebody else. If they're laughing at her, no-one's laughing at them. She improvises. She hops on one foot... she hops on the other. She slaps her arse harder, pulls it wide, makes her hands jerk the flesh from side to side. There's the pulling on her breasts now. She deliberately resists it to make it look funnier when she stumbles forwards.

She feels pressure at her back end too. Looks around, sees the blond has picked up the water bottle. Sees the goth with the rope in front. They're pulling at her from either end. She stops jumping and groans at them, loudly, through her gag. Feels the big fat cucumber squidge between her legs. She walks her fingers as far as she can, then she starts to pull quickly. As she pulls, she jumps... as she jumps, she grunts. They're all looking, all jeering, all laughing and shouting their insults at her. Clicking with their cameras. Cheering her on and staring, mouths open.

As she jump and pulls, she feels pressure building... a hot flood of pressure there between her thighs. The warmth sears hotter. She groans and groans and slaps and pulls and stamps her feet down. A release is building, intense and overwhelming. Sensation floods out... heat and pleasure and fire and pain, charging up her nerves and looping with her brain, writing its feedback into permanent circuits which will always remember, always respond.

There's cheering in there mixed with the jeering. For all she knows, it's entirely in her head, but it makes no difference... it's cheering still. She feels tugging from behind. She turns her head.

"You can stop now," she says.

They don't hear it. They just hear a muffled oo-aa-o-eau, since the words are blocked by her underwear gag.

It doesn't matter. She doesn't care. She's gone beyond anything they'll know for themselves. They can't humiliate her if she chooses it herself. She feels free, she feels strong, they can't hurt her anymore, now she knows what she's doing for the rest of her life.

_____