by Louis Woodley
Jordan Hill always double-checked the address before getting out of the car, because there'd be an uncomfortable situation if she got it wrong. Yes, this was it. She took a deep breath to compose herself, reminding herself that this was all an act, both painful and well-paying. She rang the doorbell, which was quickly opened by a woman in her early fifties.
"Georgia?"
Jordan nodded. As far as her clients were concerned that was her name.
"Hi, I'm Liz Morris. Come in. Thank you for coming. Tom's been looking forward to seeing you ever since I told him about his birthday present. I haven't seen him this excited about anything in a while. I know you need some information from me, but do you mind me asking you a question first?
"Certainly. I understand this is pretty unusual."
"I guess I'm curious as to how you got into this. Isn't it embarrassing having people spank you? And doesn't it hurt?"
"Why do I let a stranger pay to spank my bare bottom?" It was a familiar question from new clients. "Well, it all started when I accidentally walked in on my roommate one night..."
Yes, it had certainly been an eye-opening experience the evening she'd barged into Amy's bedroom unannounced. She should have still been at work for several more hours but had been let go early since things were slow. So, she'd stormed in without knocking, wanting Amy to come out for a drink and bitch about the unfairness of her life. But judging by the look of Amy's ass, she was in no condition to be sitting on a bar stool that night.
Her fellow junior was lying on her stomach, naked from the waist down with an ice pack on each butt cheek. She'd tried to simultaneously pivot away from Jordan and pull her blanket up, succeeding in neither. And what Jordan had just witnessed in that moment couldn't be unseen.
"Holy fuck, what the hell happened to you?" she asked, shocked.
She'd originally feared that Amy had fallen off her bike and landed badly, but she didn't appear to have any other cuts or bruises. Then, after a moment, the distinct patterns on her butt and thighs cleared up the picture for her. She'd seen similar injuries before on her sister's butt and her own butt too in the mirror, courtesy of their mother's hairbrush and Dad's hand and belt.
Amy had just endured a horrific spanking, but how? Like Jordan, her home was hours away and it seemed unlikely that her parents would drive all that way just to roast her rear. But who else would wallop a 21 year old like that? Amy wasn't dating anyone seriously and certainly wasn't close enough to any guy to willingly allow him to thrash her backside like that. From personal experience she knew how much her roommate was hurting.
But what if it hadn't been done willingly? Was she flunking a class and a professor had allowed her to salvage her grade by savaging her hindquarters? However, Jordan was in for a shock when she was informed that the spanking had been received voluntarily and that she'd be receiving $150 for the privilege (minus taxes) as a result. What?! Someone was actually paying to spank her? Who in their right mind would do such a thing?
Well, apparently, there were quite a number of people around here who were willing to do so because her employer was looking for additional backsides to meet the burgeoning demand. Amy explained that each employee had a maximum of three clients a week to make sure their backsides were fully healed, because no one wanted to spank an already tenderized tail. So, at the moment, there was a backlog of potential clients and they needed to expand the number of derrieres available to service them.
Yes, it hurt like Hades sometimes (hence the ice packs) because clients wanted to get their monies worth. But a couple of clients per week netted her an extra thousand dollars a month and it was all legitimate, with taxes and other withholdings being taken out and she'd get a W-2 for the IRS. Officially, she handled 'In-Home Sales Presentations' for BFH Inc.
"BFH?" queried Jordan.
"Butt For Hire, Inc., which means just what it says. They rent your ass and get to blister it. And no one is ever the wiser because it's all legitimate-looking and out in the open, no cash under the table or anything like that. But I still keep my other job so no one asks any questions and I can still make some income while my butt heals. Most people are interested in young female asses, although they've got a couple of older women that supplement their income while their kids are at school, and there's a few guys working for them as well. But the demand is bigger than the supply so they're always looking for additional employees."
Amy grinned as she asked, "Do you think you might be interested? A couple of spankings a week would certainly help with paying the rent, and it's only a few of hours out of your life."
Jordan exhaled as she stared at her friend. Was Amy seriously suggesting that she agree to be spanked for money? But that reminded Jordan of why she'd made the discovery by barging in. Her job only paid $10 an hour, but still those three hours of work she'd just lost meant about $25 fewer in her paycheck after taxes. She'd been grumbling about the poor return on investment and how classwork was kicking her ass this semester, but she needed the money. But wait... she was only netting about $25 for three hours of work while Amy had just grossed $150 for letting some guy spank her butt? It took her 15 hours of work just to gross that much. Maybe...
NO! No way in hell would she even consider it. For all she knew they'd ship her off to some Hannibal Lecter guy and she'd never be seen again. No, she was being overly dramatic because Amy wasn't an idiot so there must be some sort of system to keep the employees safe.
"Why not give it a try?" suggested Amy. "If it isn't your thing then so be it, but they'll still pay you $100 just for trying out with them."
$100 for a tryout, when she was sulking about losing $25 by being sent home early? Well, that put a different spin on things. She'd been an athlete in high school so she was used to bumps and bruises and her parents hadn't hesitated to frequently leave bumps and bruises on her butt. So, she was confident that she could be as tough as her roommate if necessary. But even if she hated the entire experience, the $100 would mean she'd wind up ahead for the week.
So, against her better instincts Jordan agreed to literally put her ass on the line. Amy called her employer and he said that he was available tomorrow night to put Jordan through her paces. She was utterly distracted in class the next day, second and third-guessing the decision. But pride (and the promise of $100) convinced her to go along with it.
She'd never heard of the owner but apparently he was an entrepreneur with multiple companies in various industries and quite successful, judging by his home. It was a mansion and downstairs in the basement was the 'training room' where her audition would take place. Mr. Whittaker welcomed Jordan, eyeing her critically and apparently approving of what he saw, before they'd retired downstairs.
He explained that he enjoyed spanking bare young backsides. There was nothing quite as satisfying as taking a young lady's drawers down and then seeing her flesh morph from white to red until she was heartily repentant for her sins. His late wife had been accommodating to his interests and, despite her age, his daughter still received a well-roasted rear end when the situation called for it. He was hardly the only person who felt that way about turning a bottom red, but the difficultly was in finding suitable women to help service their needs.
There were certainly professionals from the video world who could be procured for the task but he'd recognized the opportunity and established BFH Inc., a stable of amateur young ladies willing to put their assets on the line for his clients. Their looks were secondary to being able to withstand whatever was thrown at them. But in addition to being able to tolerate punishment, they had to be able to act convincingly in whatever role the client wanted. It could be a petulant daughter, an overspending wife, an incompetent employee, or a stranger that cut them off on the interstate. Most clients had at least somewhat of a scenario in mind and they needed to be able to fit into that role.
About 85% of their clients were men although some women clients could dole out just as firm a licking as any guy. The staff were primarily female although they did have several guys available for those who preferred tanning their hides. The rate was $250 an hour, of which they'd receive $150, minus taxes. An additional hour was $100 more, which was a 75/25 split for the staff member. For that they were expected to take what the client wanted to give out. Occasionally, there would be a group request, such as for a bachelor party, where more than one girl would be assigned where they'd determine the rates. Also, some clients tipped for a job well done and Mr Whittaker confirmed she would keep 100% of anything offered.
She'd also return here for quarterly 'evaluation sessions' which essentially meant he'd be spanking her just like any other customer, re-sampling the merchandise for his own personal benefit. However, they weren't freebies to appease the boss, as she'd receive the same pay as for a regular client. It was fully legitimate employment, but their services were strictly limited to the spanking of backsides. Any attempts to force them into additional services would earn the client a lifetime ban and potentially a visit from his security team to express his personal displeasure at their inability to respect his staff.
Mr. Whittaker was the owner, although it was buried deep within the bowels of multiple other corporate entities, and he made the hiring and firing decisions. His now deceased wife used to handle the business, but now his daughter Kelly ran the day-to-day operations, scheduling appointments, handling payroll, and managing the costume inventory. They had a selection of costumes from a defunct playhouse they could utilize to make them feel like their persona. They had an office that was their business location where everything was run from, to make it legitimate. Kelly lived here as well but had another engagement tonight but if things went well she'd be in touch.
And to provide Jordan with a touch of anonymity she would choose a working name that the encounters would be booked under. As far as their clients knew it was her real name, just in case someone got curious about her identity. Mt Whittaker suggested something that sounded close enough to her own name that it wasn't jarring to be called by it. For example, she knew her roommate as Amy but she was 'Anna' while she was on the job.
Now, having heard all that, was Jordan willing to face the gauntlet? He was offering her $100 for taking the tryout even if she decided not to join up. But the assessment would be strenuous because he needed to know they could remain in character while tolerating a strenuous punishment. It was intentionally harsh because it was at the upper end of what she'd receive in the field, so if she could survive this, a paying gig would generally be easier to endure by comparison.
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