Mandy Undaunted

The photo-story from Blushes 73 with Belinda Laine continued

Mr Lawrence had got someone else for Mandy. Another contact. Mr Kennig was also making a film and looking for a pretty girl to be in it. It looked like another really good opportunity, Mr Lawrence said. After partaking of his usual pleasure with Mandy on his desk.

This was just a week after Mr Wimler and Mandy’s photo session in the knickers and braces. The session when at the end Mr Wimler had made that suggestion. He wanted to take shots of Mandy with Chris. Or with some other bloke. She had said no, she couldn’t. Either suggestion really made Mandy cringe. The thought of doing it with Chris while Mr Wimler took pictures… Or just as bad, likewise doing it with some other bloke. And Mr Wimler had stressed really doing it. It had to be the real thing, not just pretending. ‘He’s got to have it really in there…’

Mandy hadn’t said anything to Chris, naturally. Chris didn’t know anything about her efforts to get into films. Apart from anything else there were the details. What she had to do with Mr Lawrence, and the men who were making films. Fucking them, to put it bluntly. Even if she left out that part of it, Chris might still guess. People did think you had to do that sort of thing to get into films and TV. It seemed to be common knowledge unfortunately. Chris would kill her if he knew. Or go berserk certainly.

No, Mandy couldn’t tell Chris. Not even say that someone she knew (Elaine perhaps?) knew of a bloke who was making a film and needed a pretty girl and a young bloke in it, with no experience. Because in any case there was no way she could tell Chris what Mr Wimler really wanted. No, Mandy couldn’t tell Chris anything. She had told Mr Lawrence though. She had needed to tell someone, to get some advice. Even though she couldn’t do it.

Mr Lawrence’s advice was to do it. ‘Why not?’ he said. ‘OK, if you don’t want to do it with your bloke, fair enough. Do it with some other young bloke. You’ve got to be prepared to oblige, to put out, in the film business, Mandy.’

Mandy had phoned Mr Lawrence and of course he had made her go round to discuss it, an extra visit. Mandy didn’t like making any more visits to Mr Lawrence than she had to, because of what he would want. But she had needed to discuss it and so she went. And that was Mr Lawrence’s advice: to do it. It wasn’t advice she wanted to hear and in addition of course there was what she had known Mr Lawrence would want. An extra one. An extra fuck on his desk.

But whatever Mr Lawrence’s advice, Mandy couldn’t do it. Not fuck someone while Mr Wimler took pictures. No. But when she had phoned Mr Wimler Mandy hadn’t told him that unequivocally. Not able to bring herself to say a complete goodbye to the prospect of being in Mr Wimler’s film about the two girls in France. So Mandy had said she was still thinking about it. It was a real problem. Maybe if she saw Mr Wimler again and tried to persuade him to do the film without that part…?

But now there was this other person. Mr Kennig. Mr Lawrence had made an appointment for Mandy to meet him Tuesday lunchtime, and then go for a photo session in the afternoon. It was another very good opportunity Mr Lawrence said, so naturally Mandy couldn’t pass it up. It meant getting another afternoon off work — she’d have to use the excuse of her gran again. It was awkward, embarrassing, Mr Brownley probably guessed she was making it up. But she wouldn’t have that problem for much longer; when Mandy got one of these contracts she would be able to give up her job at Charnleys.

Mr Kennig was making a film with a schoolgirl in it. Not a young one, this girl is 17 or 18 he said, so there would be no problem with Mandy taking the part — if she had the ability to do it, Mr Kennig said. Mandy said she was sure she could. Not that she had ever done any actual acting — unless you could describe the photo sessions and posing in for instance knickers and a pair of braces as acting. Probably if Mandy could agree to do the fucking pictures and could make like she was enjoying it, turned on, then that would be acting all right. But Mandy couldn’t bring herself to do that. Anyway this Mr Kennig, a biggish man with a beard, didn’t ask for details of acting experience.

They didn’t go to the warehouse but to a flat where Mandy hadn’t been before. Presumably the warehouse wasn’t a suitable location. In the film the girl (Mandy) had been left in the charge of Mr Kennig who was a master at the school. It was the holiday and her parents were abroad or something like that. Anyway although she had promised to stay in and work with her books, Mandy had instead gone out to the disco. Hoping that Mr Kennig wouldn’t find out but of course he did. Not only that but she had also got a lift home with this boy in his car. They had stopped on the way and done some smooching in a lay-by. And not just smooching in fact because Mandy had also let the boy fuck her. This naturally made Mandy even later in getting back.

Anyway Mr Kennig forces a confession out of Mandy regarding all of this. He decides to spank her in the hope that this will have a salutary effect. Spank her bare bottom, which of course is not something you’re going to like if you’re a grown girl of 17 or 18.

That was to be some of the action in the film and Mr Kennig wanted to see how Mandy could cope with it. He had a schoolgirl outfit for her to wear: a white vest and blouse, short navy-blue wrap-around pleated skirt with little white knickers underneath, and white high heels. Maybe a schoolgirl wouldn’t be allowed to wear these shoes to school but then this wasn’t in school, it was in the master’s house. Quite probably he liked her in high heels and had told her to wear them.

Mandy had to stand in front of Mr Kennig as he sat in the cane armchair and get a lecture on proper behaviour. And then be told that she was to get her bare bottom spanked. Mr Kennig, looking grim, told her to take her blouse off, and also her knickers.

Mandy obeys, then stands contritely at Mr Kennig’s side again. She has no bra under the thin white vest and her half-erect nipples are sticking it out in prominent bumps. Also of course Mandy has no knickers on now, nothing under the little pleated skirt. Mr Kennig slides his hand up the back so her bare legs, to Mandy’s warm bare bottom.

‘What are your parents going to think of this sort of behaviour, Miss? Eh? When they’ve done their best to bring you up properly. They’ll be devastated.’

‘Please don’t tell them, sir,’ Mandy says. She can feel herself getting excited, with Mr Kennig’s hand stroking her bare bottom as he admonishes her and also imagining being back at school in this situation. Not that Mandy ever was but she can imagine it, being up before one of the men staff like this. With her knickers off and he is about to spank her bottom.

Mr Kennig is turning her slightly, and his hand still under the skirt is sliding round to her front. The hand cups her bare pussy.

‘A girl of your age, Mandy, has got to learn to control this. Otherwise she can find herself in serious trouble. No doubt it gets hot and excited at times, especially if you’re with a boy, but you’ve got to control it.’

‘Yes sir,’ Mandy gasps. She is sure she is doing all right as this schoolgirl. She is sort of living the part, imagining it, and probably that’s how you should be acting. Mr Kennig has got a couple of fingers just about inside her and Mandy is beginning to feel hot. Randy.

Mr Kennig takes his hand away. He is getting to his feet. Grinning at her. ‘I’m not sure if this should be in the film action or not. Maybe it should. I mean some of those masters get pretty randy for the good-looking girls, don’t they? Anyway…’

Mr Kennig wants to fuck her. Mandy guesses this from the look on his face. Possibly it is because she has been acting so well, just like a real schoolgirl being carpeted, and it has turned Mr Kennig on. And she is anyway turned on herself. Certainly not objecting. As he bends her over the arm of his chair. Her face down in the seat. Yes. She is not going to be spanked, or at least not yet. It is the other. She grips onto the chair. Mr Kennig… is doing it…

----//----

Afterwards Mandy gets the spanking. Over Mr Kennig’s lap as he sits on the cane chair. In just the little white vest and the white heels. Lying across Mr Kennig’s lap with her head down, her blonde hair tumbling to the floor. Mr Kennig’s big male hand cracking into Mandy’s squirming bare bottom. It hurts, it really stings. And maybe with having just done it, screwed Mr Kennig, the spanking is worse. Because Mandy is just coming down from having come, hitting the peak, and she is all sensitised, the nerve endings on a high. And now, straightaway, Mr Kennig’s big hand. Cracking in…

After the spanking which really left Mandy’s bottom bright red and also red-hot Mr Kennig took some pictures. Some of her as she was in just the little vest and with her bright red bare bottom, and then some in another outfit. A little white sleeveless dress tied with red spaghetti straps at the shoulders; worn with the white heels again and now a pair of brief pink knickers underneath. These pictures were mostly in the other room, with Mandy kneeling or sitting on a rocking chair. The pictures were for Mr Kennig to show to his associates, he said. But he was sure they would be impressed and agree with him that Mandy seemed just right for the role.

Mr Kennig himself had been very pleased, he said. He thought she could give an excellent performance.

After that Mr Kennig felt like screwing Mandy again. Mandy, like the first time, did not object, especially not now after Mr Kennig’s gratifying remarks about her performance. From what he had said she had virtually got the part! But Mandy remembered to say the same as she had to Mr Wimler. ‘Please don’t think I do this all the time. Because I certainly don’t.’

Remembering saying that to Mr Wimler brought back also what Mr Wimler had said at the end of his photo session. About the other shots he would like to get. Mr Kennig wasn’t going to ask for that, was he? Shots perhaps of the schoolgirl and the boy from the disco. The two of them fucking. The sudden thought brought a little shiver to Mandy. But it was all right. There was no mention of that. Mr Kennig was only interested in what he was doing. His own fucking in fact. And then she could get her things on. They were finished.

Mr Kennig dropped Mandy off near Sprinkler Street — but she was certainly not interested in any impromptu visits to Mr Lawrence, thank you very much. He could find out in due course how well she had done. Mandy did feel a strong desire to tell Chris, and almost succumbed with Mr Kennig sounding so positive about things. As it turned out her caution was well advised.

A week later Mr Lawrence said, ‘Some bad news about that Sid Kennig I’m afraid. It seems his backers can’t come through with the money. So he can’t go ahead.’

Mandy felt herself go all hot and cold. ‘You mean…’ Blinking her big blue eyes which suddenly weren’t seeing very clearly. Tears. Yes Mr Lawrence did mean exactly that. Turning her head away so he couldn’t see the tears in her eyes.

Mr Lawrence got up from his desk and came round. His arm round her. ‘Don’t worry, it happens like that sometimes. Just hang in there.’ And then of course Mr Lawrence wanted the usual. Wanted to get Mandy up on his desk and get her knickers off. She wanted to refuse him and almost did. But… you did have to hang in there.

Mandy did finally say no to Mr Wimler. Half thinking cynically that if she said yes she would then hear the same story: no finance, no backers. So she was back to square one, for the moment at least. And then if that wasn’t bad enough something else struck. In the shape of Mr Brownley, Mandy’s boss.

Mr Brownley said he would like to have a chat with her. Maybe at lunchtime they could go out in his car, somewhere nice and quiet. Of course the thought came to Mandy right away that it was going to be about her afternoons off. And of course she was right.

‘What I think is that you’re seeing your boyfriend on those afternoons off,’ Mr Brownley said. ‘Your actual boyfriend or maybe even some other boyfriend. That’s what I think, Mandy dear.’

Mandy shook her head but conscious that her face had gone bright red. They were parked in Mr Brownley’s car out in the country, a secluded spot off the road. ‘No really…’

Mr Brownley said he could very easily find out for sure. But he was already quite sure she was. And if it was someone other than that regular boyfriend of hers, well, he was sure that that young chap — Chris, wasn’t that his name? — would be very interested in finding out as well.

‘No…’ Mandy pleaded. Feeling herself now going all hot and cold, the very same feeling as when Mr Lawrence had told her about Mr Kennig.

Mr Brownley smiled. ‘I think we can come to some sort of arrangement, Mandy dear.’ His hand had gone to the zip of his smart dark grey trousers. Sliding down the zip. ‘I think naughty Mandy’s been seeing some of this on her afternoons off.’

He was taking it out. Big and erect of course. The swollen, purplish head looking up at her. Mr Brownley with a little laugh lifting his hand to the back of Mandy’s blonde head. Pushing her down.

----//----

Afterwards when Mr Brownley had finished, coming in her mouth, Mandy told him. Well why not? That she was trying to get into films, she was going to get into films. In spite of one or two little setbacks. But if you were going to make it you had to hang in there. Keep trying.