January 6, 2009 at 4:07 am (Uncategorized) (, , , , , , )

images1 I answered an ad in ‘Loot’ newspaper for a role playing job.  I thought this would be a perfect time to pursue my interest in acting.  The ad was very brief, it just gave a little information, saying in headline, ‘Role Play’ in big, bold, black letters, followed by, ‘recording a demo tape, need actors for role play, pays $50 bucks.  I was a little short on cash, so I called the number.  A white man answered the phone.  His voice was a little shaky like he was nervous.  He asked me, “Would you be comfortable playing a school girl?”  I replied, “yes.”  He gave me a run down of the job, saying, “I have a recording studio.  We will be recording this.  You just have to act like you were caught cheating on a test and called into the principal’s office.  The end result is a spanking.”  I paused for a minute and honestly didn’t know what to think.  I was a little naive.  I agreed to go anyway out of curiosity.

He lived in Manhattan near 14th Street and 8th Avenue.  After I buzzed his bell, he came downstairs to meet me.  I had my starbucks, Caramel Mocchiato in hand and followed him upstairs to the third floor.  He was a nerdy looking white guy.  He stood about 5’7, with black hair that cupped in front of his right eyebrow.  The rest of his hair was tapered to his neck.  There was nothing unusual about his face that I can remember.  I could tell that he was a curious freak who happened to put an ad in the paper to see how far he could go.  He had on some jeans and a white shirt that was unbuttoned from the neck about three buttons down, showing of his ‘ape-like’ chest hairs.  I felt the butterflies playing together in my stomach.  I was praying that this man wasn’t a serial killer.

He led me to the back of his apartment, where in a room, four microphones was set up and a recording studio.  He said, “this is where the recording will take place.”  He walked out of the room, “this is where we will role play”, he said while leading me into another room.  This room was obviously his bedroom.  There was a Queen sized bed resting up against the wall.  Next to the bed was a small pile of raw plywood on the floor.  It looked like he had plans for a fireplace, but there was no fireplace.  He could tell I was nervous by the way my eyes was skirting around the room.

“don’t be nervous, sit on the bed.”  I sat on the bed.

“Now, this is how it is going to go.  I am going to call you into the principal’s office for being caught cheating on a test.  This is a catholic school, so you have on the short skirt.  When you get to the principal’s office, you will start crying, pleading to me, “Please, don’t call my parents.”  I will then make a deal with you.  You can either take the phone call to your parents or a traditional spanking with my hand.  You will take your pants down and I will spank you with my hand.  I will count to twenty five.  Stop and then repeat it again.”

I wanted to run out of there, instead I agreed to it.  The butterflies in my stomach were no longer playing politely together.  They were fighting.  He looked at me, “Are you ready.”  I shook my head.  The role playing started.
He had me stand outside the door.  “Tasha, report to the principals office, please,” he said as he acted like he was speaking over an intercom.  I opened up the door.  He was sitting in a black, swivel chair, with black glasses on, shaking his head.  “You did a horrible thing, Tasha.  We are a respectable school and we cannot have our students cheating on tests,” he said.  “No, please don’t tell my parents.  Let’s work it out, just please don’t call them,” I pleaded.  “OK.  Pull up your skirt and I will give you twenty-five hits on your butt.  I won’t call your parents,” he said.  “Okay”, I said, as I pulled down my pants.  He walked me over to the bed.  “Lay down on your stomach over my lap,” he said.  There I was bare, butt naked with my ass straight in the air.  I could feel the wind from the open window graze my butt and tickle into my inner thigh as his breath grew harder.  “Okay, I am going to hit you twenty five times on your butt.  Are you ready”, he said.  I shook my head as I held my breath.  I kept thinking about the end result of it being over.  Then it started.  “One,” he said as his hand crashed down onto my right butt cheek.  It was stinging.  “Two”…  His hand crashed down again on the same butt cheek.  I wanted to cry.  I could feel the blood rise to the top of my butt.  “Three”…  “BAM”, the hand pounded on my right cheek again.  “Four, five, six…”…  It was taking forever for him to get to twenty-five.  By twenty, I was skirmish.  My body started wiggling like a little worm.  He stared rubbing, my butt.  “Are you okay?”, he said.  I could feel the tears falling out my eyes.  I wasn’t okay, I just wanted him to finish.  “Five more.  We are almost done”, he said.  “Twenty-one…”  We were finally at twenty-five.  I really felt like, ‘my ass was on fire.’   “Lie on the bed.  Let me put some cream on you.  I should make you feel better,” he said.  He picked up a navy blue bottle of Nivea cream and started rubbing it on his hands.  I could feel his cold, creamy hands, rub up and down on my butt.  He grazed my butt with the cream over both butt checks.  His hands followed the trail leading to my ‘dream hole’.  He touched down to the perineum.  I started wiggling.  He said, “Do you want me to touch you down there?”  “No”, I said.         He put the bottle of Nivea back on the table.  He grabbed me underneath my waist, “Put your ass in the air”, he said.  I put my head on the pillow and raised up my waist.  My ass was now saluting to the ceiling.  “That’s it”, he said.  He disappeared out of the room for awhile and then returned with a camera.  I heard the camera clicking.  The camera flashed.  He told me, “Spread your legs a little.”  I opened my legs about an inch.  I could feel my lips open up.  He bent over closer to my butt for a close up picture and snapped the camera.  I felt like Sarah Baartman on exhibit; dirty and exploited.
This went on for about five more minutes.  He told me that this was for his book.  “Your face will not be shown, just your butt”, he said.  Just when I thought it was over, he told me, “Now we are going to change roles.  You are the principal now.”  My eyes bulged out in shock.  “Pick a piece of plywood from that pile over there”, he said as he pointed to the pile of raw plywood on the side of his bed.  I walked over to it, picking up the largest piece.  We didn’t do any role-play for him.  He just layed on the bed, stomach down and went to town on him, twenty-five times.  He had gross little, red bumps all over his butt.  Every time, I hit him with the piece of plywood, I thought one of them suckers was going to bust.  With each swing to his backside, I thought about my ancestors being hit by the slave masters and I hit him even harder.  I could feel him flinch up each time I counted.  It was finally over.  “Get the cream over on the table”, he told me.  I grabbed the navy bottle of Nivea cream and covered my hands with it.  I delicately touched his butt, scared of the bumps.  I wanted it to be over so bad.  I rubbed it over his butt.  “Did you cover the area?” he asked.  “Yep.”  I started putting on my pants.  I didn’t want his ass to get any ideas for nothing else.  I had earned my $50 bucks by blood, sweat and tears literally.  Once I had my pants on, he put his on.  “I need to go to the bank”, he said.  We walked to the door.  My now cold, caramel macchioto’ was waiting for me on the table near the door.  I grabbed it and immediately took a large swig, thinking it would wash out the nasty taste this experience left in my mouth.  We walked out the door, three storefronts down, to a bank.  Walking with him, I started to blank it out of my head, just like I did when I was rapped.  I collected the money and washed it out of my memory bank.  This was my first experience into the world of “SEX”.


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