It's funny how things work out.
The other day my sister whipped me with a leather strap. It left my bottom sore and tender and when I went to audition for a part in an Olive Garden commercial it hurt to sit down. I squirmed in my seat as the director instructed me to smile and pretend that I was having the time of my life with the other actors who were seated around me, laughing and toasting each other with wine.
As a professional model/actress I've done this sort of thing before, but this time was different.
The director had no idea that my poor bottom was a riot of pain, he just saw the way that I would squirm and bounce in my chair and occasionally gasp. When he saw me behaving like that, he just thought that I was emoting and leaning into my role of a patron enormously enjoying an evening out with her family at her favorite restaurant.
So, being a slave girl with sore, punished buttocks helped me to nail an audition and get cast in a commercial. How cool is that?
I came home and told my sister, and she was thrilled for me. "That's amazing," my sister gushed. "So, you're writhing around in pain, and they thought you were doing an exceptional job of portraying a bubbly, enthusiastic customer?"
"That's exactly what happened," I confirmed.
Holly high-fived me and then she wrapped her arms around me in a hug. We hugged like that until she squealed with glee, and we bounced up and down in celebration.
"Maybe you'll get a reputation as the actress who's exceptional at emoting. Maybe this will lead to more work."
"You think?"
"Directors talk to other directors," Holly replied. "They network, they give each other feedback. "I'm thinking this'll help your reputation."
You wouldn't think that being a slave girl who suffers under harsh spanking, whippings and other punishments would be good for your career, but sometimes life has a way of surprising you.
Another big surprise came later that day when we got a visit from Daphne Cross. I hadn't seen Daphne since high school. After we graduated, I pursued my dream of becoming an actress, while Daphne went to work in her father's office supply store. We stayed in touch through emails and social media, but I hadn't seen her in person in years.
"Hello, Hannah. May I come in?"
"You know, traditionally people call or text before they show up at your front door. There are risks that come with showing up unannounced. Remember that time you showed up at Ms. Glover's home that Saturday morning?"
Daphne had looked somewhat uneasy when I initially answered the door and the longer I stood there without inviting her inside the more her brow furrowed, and a general air of anxiety seemed to wash over her. She bounced up and down on the balls of her feet, her facial expression tense, and she blurted out, "Hannah, are you going to invite me in or not?"
"Sorry," I replied and stepped aside to give her easy access. "Come on in. Now what's got you all agitated?"
She came inside, I closed the door behind her and some of the stress seemed to bleed out of her. She took a deep breath and then told me why she was there.
"So, your sister sent me an email about your lesbian BDSM party. I mean...I think she sent it to me by accident, but, after I got it, I read it. And re-read it. And re-read it. I keep thinking about it, and quite frankly I'm jealous."
Holly chose that exact moment to walk into the room. She'd overheard what Daphne had said and made intense eye contact. Daphne blushed.
"So, you want Hannah to strip naked for you so you can spank her? I thought you were straight."
Daphne's blush seemed to get even deeper. She took another deep breath and responded.
"I've never been straight. I've always liked girls. I've been faking it because my family is deeply religious. If they found out I was into girls, they'd be disappointed in me. It would be like a soul crushing disappointment."
I was about to say something, but then Daphne sighed heavily and added, "And I don't want to spank Hannah. I'm not the dominant type. I'm the type that dreams of being spanked by somebody else."
There was a long, protracted silence and then Holly said, "So, you don't want to take advantage of my naked slave girl, you want to be a naked slave girl."
Daphne hugged herself and nodded in agreement. "I've had kinky lesbian sex slave fantasies for years, but I always kept them to myself. My parents would think I was some sort of sick sexual deviant if they found out. And I had no idea how my friends would react if I told any of them. So, I've just been keeping it all bottled up inside."
"And, then I sent you that email, and you realized other people have the same sorts of fantasies that you do."
Daphne didn't respond verbally right away. At first, she just nodded in agreement. Then Holly told me to get Daphne a glass of wine. Confiding in us about her secrets was a big deal, and Holly could see how shaken up she was. I pulled a bottle of wine off the wine rack in the kitchen and poured a glass for Daphne. I walked over with the wine and Daphne seemed grateful. She smiled at me and took a big sip. Then she thanked both me and Holly and drained the rest of the glass.
"It feels great to finally say this stuff out loud," Daphne added, visibly becoming less tense as she unburdened herself. "Keeping these secrets all to myself has been like a huge, heavy weight on my chest. I really need a confidante."
It was an emotional moment. Holly stepped forward and hugged Daphne. And somehow, I got swept up and ended up hugging Daphne too. And while Daphne and I were holding each other close, Holly stood behind me and said, "Daphne, you know what?"
There was a slight pause and Daphne's embrace became less intense as she looked over at my sister.
"I was thinking, maybe Hannah and I could be more than just your confidantes."
"More?"