The Interview (Part II ) 
I walked into a wide open room with a small groups of women age 30 - 40. We
soon were introduced to each other, Mother of three teenagers, high school
teacher, major business executive, and a lite......very pretty girl....the
only experienced actress/player.....Kristina.

A muscular, virile man dressed in a white smudged tank top, and cut-off
jeans stood by the door. He cracked a heavy, doubled-over strap into his
left palm and said, "My name is Max. I need for all you girls to get
undressed for the audition." I saw some eyes dilate, and a tingle of fear
crept along the back of my neck. We all stood around like deaf-mutes---that
is, all but Kristina.

Kristina, glowing and smiling was immune to fear. She arched her back, and
pulled her long jersey dress over her head, daintily stepped over it, her
feet clothed in spiked 4" heels, then draped her body over the arms of an
overstuffed easy chair, her beautiful legs trailed down. Her panties with
floral print enticingly encased perfect cheeks. Max ran his hands lovingly
under the elastic and then pulled them down. The floor lamps cast
luminescent glowing shadows---highlighting all the curves of her buttocks.
Max rubbed them lovingly.

She spoke in a very warm lulling voice, "There is only one reason, and one
reason ONLY why women go into pornography. That is, they love sex. This is
so much more true in the spanking and fetish world. This is not work! WE
LOVE OUR WORK! THIS IS REAL LIBERATION! Women have control here. You get to
choose your male partner. Men will stand in line, politely for the
privilege of playing with you. All eyes are on the bottom! You are always
the center of attention! No other field of acting is like this."

Pretty legs--------shapely bottom-------Perfect skin?-----None of that
mattered. What makes the difference is passion. Perfect features without
passion--is like perfectly metered poetry with no emotion. Kristina poised
her plump lips, pouting, mimicking a kiss. Tiny shivers ran up her spine,
as Max rubbed her. She broke into a light, all over sweat, making her body
glow. I'm not a lesbian, but I almost reached out and touched her.

Another world these people lived in! Not one of accumulation of wealth, or
status. But a day to day goal, of fulfilling an addiction that craved
sensations! One that centered around a basic sexual need obsessed with
spanking!!! Self-indulgence was not only permissible, but essential for
making these movies. Synonymous with a frantic searching for a familiar
euphoria, a theme played again and again, daily in a thousand variations.

Kristina gave a tiny cry, and arched her back. She almost climaxed from
Max's light touch. Max was letting her lightly feel the cool leather by
running it over her buttocks. Her excitement and anticipation were
contagious. The she said indignantly "Don't talk to me of pain!" Her lite
voice almost musical. "We all LOVE PAIN!"

They all play as thrill seekers. Teenagers who pick the fastest roller
coaster, and ride it time and time again, savoring each free-fall. Or the
sky diver, who tells himself each jump is his last, preparing himself for
eternity before each plunge, risking his life for the big thrill.

Watching her antics---Listening carefully to all her nonsense 'baby
talk'---All eyes were glued to her every move.......What was she, but a
plaything! A toy! What did her body language reveal but, "Play with me!
Play with me!  Play with me!" Like a rollicking puppy. Or a four year old
child. " Touch me. Hold me. Spank me. Don't bother to talk sensibly. But
over-load my tactile sensors, with playful warm sensations."

I looked about the room. Mother of three, a lawyer, high school teacher,
business executive......What do we know of being a toy? Have we ever longed
to be the center of attention? Mesmerize an audience, so that they watched
every move. Dream creatures.

Our macho man took a a heavy leather strap and passed it over her waist
sliding it down to her pretty feet. She playfully kicked at it, giggling.
But you could see muscles twitching as the cool leather touched her warm
skin. She arched her back and gave a deep sigh, indicating her body was
pleased with any new stimulation he allowed her to feel.

We all felt prickly sensations up our spine in anticipation as we watched
Max contract his iron biceps, snap the strap back, and bring it down with
such a forceful crack---we all jumped 5 feet in the air. The sound was
deafening. We all saw her lithe perfect body, as vulnerable as delectable,
contract----her face screwed up on impact----helpless as beguiling. A red
wheal grew across her spankable tush.......Then her face glowed with some
type of blissful contentment.

What should have been horrifying, was enticing. What should have frightened
us, had an unpredictable effect. "Hit her again", the middle-aged mother of
three whispered breathlessly. Then we all looked at each other, before
peeling off our clothes.


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