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He’d spanked her every bit as hard as he wanted. She deserved it, after all. He owed her a real punishment for the naughtiness she’d exhibited ever since she’d turned up on set.
What he hadn’t been expecting was how good it felt. The moment he saw that bare, beautiful ass, everything had changed for him. This was no longer about punishing her. This was aboutworshippingher.
His spanks were full of yearning and admiration. That soft, pale flesh, wobbling in the light of trailer. The pink marks his hands left behind, a reminder of the heat that passed between them.
His spanks were like poetry. Sonnets of affection, from him to her.
His spanks were pure lust. As sharp as his desire. As hard as his cock.
It was out of this world. He’d dominated women in the past, yes, but all of that felt like child’s play compared to this. The spanking felt deep and true. Ancient and new. But then, at the end, when she’d fled, refusing to call him “sir”, he’d snapped back to reality with a jolt.
Did she regret it? Did she feel coerced into doing it in the first place? He hoped not. They’d had a safeword. But maybe it had been too much too soon. Maybe she just hadn’t felt able to back down from the dare.
Whatever the situation was, he needed to sort it out. Make sure that she was okay with him. That she felt safe with him. Nip any issues in the bud, so that they could finish this movie and get on with their lives. Rip would work on another movie after this — a normal movie, that didn’t involve working with a bunch of Littles and an absent director. And life would go on. Boring, but reliable.
As he walked toward the set, he noticed a lot of groggy-looking staff members walking around. He thought for a moment he’d walked onto a set for a different movie — azombiemovie. But then he saw Gloria approaching him.
“You made the right call last night, Rip,” she said, her voice croaky and her eyes pink. “The Irish brothers that run The Den brought out a cask of their homemade whiskey last night, and— well, I don’t remember much after that, if I’m being honest.”
Rip chuckled, but couldn’t help feeling a tad superior. Sometimes people accused him of being dull or straitlaced, but he never suffered with inappropriate hangovers like his accusers.
“Where’s Brandon?” Rip asked. “I saw him walking around while I was out for a run this morning.”
“Right here,” said Brandon.
Rip looked behind him, and saw six foot of tan skin, blue eyes, sparkling white teeth. Brandon Marshall looked every bit the Hollywood A-Lister that he was. In fact, he looked even better in life than he did on the screen. Rip always respected the sight of a man who looked after himself, and Brandon Marshall clearly did just that.
“I hear you stepped in and saved the day yesterday,” said Brandon.
Rip paused for a moment, confused. Brandon wasn’t talking about spanking Mabel’s ass, was he?
“Replacing the stuntman so we could get our camera angles?”
“Oh, right. Yeah,” said Rip. “It was nothing.” What he really meant by that was that it was his fault that the stuntman had left in the first place, so it was the least he could do.
Brandon shook his head. “Nonsense, my man. It was more than you’re being paid to do, and I’m grateful.”
Brandon led Rip over to the set, where the other Littles were waiting. Mabel was there too. Seriously, what was with these guys all being early now Mabel was on set? They were always late for him.
“Now listen up,” said Brandon. “I’m sorry I had to head back to LA just as we were getting started. Ran into a couple problems with another movie I’m working on. Some of the cast and crew were acting up. Had to make some difficult decisions. Hire in a whole new bunch of people.”
Rip heard some of the Littles fidgeting. Actually, he felt a little on edge himself. He hadn’t got off to the greatest start on this movie. The Littles didn’t listen to him, Mabel didn’t respect him, and he’d upset the stuntman so badly yesterday that he’d walked off the set. Rip had never been fired from anything in his life. He wasn’t that kind of guy. He was as dependable as the sunrise. He couldn’t let a bunch of rambunctious Littles and a fiery little dirt goblin get the better of him.
Brandon looked around the crowd, scanning every pair of eyes, one by one. “Now, I’m aware that there have been some issues while I’ve been away. A few personality clashes. Some harsh words spoken and some communicative mis-haps.”
“That’s putting it lightly,” Rip heard someone murmur.
“So,” said Brandon, “we’re all going to take a break together.”
There was a collective murmur of “What?”
“It’s Friday,” said Brandon. “I can see that some of you have sore heads this morning, so we’re going to take a dose of the best medicine possible. The great outdoors!”
Everyone looked at him, confused. They were already standing outside. What did he mean?
“A group hiking trip!” said Brandon. “The cast and crew will all head out together, and each of you will get a thirty-minute chat with our counselor too, to talk about anything that’s troubling you. I believe that the experience will bond us, and then, when we return, we’ll get this movie shot in a week!”
“In a week?” asked Gloria, unsure. “You know, the Littles can’t even hold their guns yet…”
