The Making of the Candi Video -Sylvan Story

[goodgulf]

The Making of the Candi Video
(from "The Sylvan Latchkey Program") story at
http://www.spanko.net/Spanking_Forums_A ... =5&m=64362
Links to more of the Sylvan Stories can be found at http://www.spanko.net/spanking_forums/v ... &t=69#p139

Chelsea Sheridan mentally cursed her agent for the eighteenth time. Sure it was work, paying work, but her agent hadn't gotten her a script! She was starting two (maybe three) days of shooting, and she still hadn't seen a script yet! Chelsea liked to go beyond a mere reading of her lines, to (in the words of her acting couch) 'own and become the lines as a gateway to the role', which was pretty hard to do if no one gave you the script.

But her agent, Collin Fletcher, had urged caution, telling her repeatedly that it was a 'made to hire' video, not Shakespeare. That there seemed to be some serious disagreements between the creative team hired to produce the product and what the client wanted.

"Two writers and one director have already walked off the job." Collin Fletcher had told her. "I've seen four different scripts and none of them even had the character names in common! But it's paying work and a line on the résumé, so just try to wing it."

'Wing it.' Chelsea snorted to herself. 'How can I get the mood right when I'm just winging it?'

But Collin Fletcher was right about one thing: paying work was paying work. Getting it meant that Collin Fletcher Management Inc. would have an incentive to keep her as a client so Chelsea knew she had to take the job. Not that anyone had said anything about dropping her, not yet, but work led to more work - everyone knew that. Which was why her smile never dimmed, even when she discovered who was making the tape.

'Who in their right minds would use a service like Sylvan's?' Chelsea wondered, and not for the first time.

Ever since she had heard of the Sylvan Centres, Chelsea had wondered who would pay for something like that. Not that she'd never encountered the concept of corporal punishment (she had vague memories of that sort of thing happening in her distant past, and had known a few people who had gotten it a bit longer than she had), but to subcontract something like that out? It just didn't make sense.

But Collin Fletcher had made one thing clear - that she could walk out on the job at anytime.


"We're here Miss."

Chelsea blinked back to her surroundings, then thanked and paid her driver. A lesser professional wouldn't have bothered to thank a cab driver, but Chelsea believed that you thanked everyone involved (no matter how insignificantly involved) in job then karma would work things out so the job would go fantastically well. A non-professional wouldn't have been in the cab in the first place, but Chelsea thought she was too far along on her chosen career path to have 'her mommy' drive her to jobs.

Taking a deep breath, Chelsea centred herself.

'You can do this Chelsea. You are an actress, a professional, and you can do anything.' Chelsea thought to herself, repeating a self-affirming mantra that worked well for her.

Her head held high, she entered the building to meet the others on the team. Chelsea expected professionalism, but soon discovered that this paying job seemed less well organised than that community theatre job she had done to pad her résumé. That theatre hadn't had a budget, but it had had various volunteers who jealously staked out their turf and tended it well. Here, at the office of a so-called professional, Chelsea found chaos.

Far too many people crammed in too small of a room, and some of them arguing over who should be included (as if they, the wannabe actors, would be making hiring decisions). It seemed to take forever, but eventually Chelsea found herself in an inner office where there were fewer people and less meaningless talk. She'd been there for over ten minutes, with various people arriving and leaving, before there was any attempt at organising things. That was when a man stood and said:

"Hello? People, can I have your attention? Hello? Can everyone take a seat and so we can rough things out?"

People found seats, or leaned against walls, and the noise dropped a bit, before the man continued.

"For those of you who don't know me, my name is Derrick Williams and I'm currently the senior producer of this bold new endeavour. " Derrick Williams started. "I say currently, because we've experienced several unexpected personnel changes recently. I may end up moving on to executive producer, or someone else may join in and move me to assistant producer, but my current title is senior producer."

Chelsea nodded at this; proper titles were important, because the various Guilds had declared that this title got that credit in the movie and that title got this credit. It all mattered, whether your name was mentioned in the opening or closing credits depended on your official title, not on who really did the work. Thanks to that little talk Chelsea could pick out the professionals (who were nodding along) and the non-professionals who hadn't understood the importance what the man had said.

"So, a few introductions. This is Ms. Tyson from the national office and over here is Ms. Fields, the head administrator of the local centre."

Chelsea nodded and smiled as Derrick Williams introduced over a dozen people, from a staff member at the local Sylvan Centre to some of the writers (a harried looking group who were jotting notes as the meeting went on). Chelsea tried to remember each name and link it with the face, but ended up just linking the face to the title. There just too many people sitting so widely spaced to fix them all in her mind.

"So, now that the introductions are out of the way, let's get on with the current project, or should I say projects." Derrick Williams continued. "We've reached the point that we've decided that no one project will cover all the points we want to touch on, so we've costed out doing three, maybe four projects. Now to conserve money we are looking at working with, um, well, not quite amateurs, that's not the word... With people already involved in the Sylvan system whenever possible."

Chelsea winced at those words, and hoped that her paying job hadn't just vanished.

"Of course that's only when possible, and there are countless areas where we need professions." Derrick Williams explained. "If the crew, from the camera gripe to the audio technician, aren't pros the projects will end up looking like home movies. And for speaking roles we'll need people who know how to handle themselves in front of a camera. Now HR has folders for all of you, and even if you are volunteering your time you'll need to sign releases. For those here for a paycheque, we need your account info for direct deposit, and some tax forms need to be signed."

Once she had the folder with her name on it Chelsea found herself digging through her bag for pen. Working out of sight of the woman from HR, Chelsea found herself once more forging her parents signatures (and placing initials) at various points. Part of her hated doing this, but without a bit of creative bookkeeping her parents would have to come to this and countless other job sites.

'Besides.' Chelsea thought as she read and signed the forms. 'They know I do it and they're okay with it.'

Going through the forms she didn't see anything that she had and her agent hadn't gone over before. Knowing who she was working for, Chelsea looked carefully for any dramatic contracts or agreements with Sylvan, and found none.

After she passed her folder back in, Chelsea found herself waiting for two, almost three, hours while things were organised, groups split off, and various people went looking for the people who should have been there but weren't. Finally, Chelsea found herself in a sub-office with Derrick Williams and a handful of other people.

"Okay, has anyone seen a script?" Derrick Williams asked. "Because if they have had it's out of date. The original problem was trying to fit too many topics into one script, which meant none of the scripts could cover any one topic the way it should be covered."

Chelsea nodded along with the rest of the people as Derrick Williams outlined the project.

"So, this will be an instructional video, a 'you were signed up for this service, now what?' type thing." Derrick Williams went on to say. "Sylvan has a new service called 'the latchkey program' where latchkey kids take a larger role in things than would normally happen. Now at this point you're probably thinking 'Huh?' because it didn't make a lot of sense to me or anyone else, which is why they need a video explaining it. Now, Chelsea is it? You'll have the role of Candi, a girl who has signed up for the program and is walking others through it."

"This is just a role, right?" Chelsea asked, wondering if she had missed a form.

"Of course it is." Derrick Williams assured her. "There's no assessment or Sylvan agreement involved. We're using clients already in the system for most of those spots. We are looking at using real Sylvan parents for extras, and we will be using the local centre for backdrops, but that's it."

Chelsea nodded, and acted as if she wasn't feeling relieved. As a professional, she was sure that she was fooling everyone in the room; she was so good she almost fooled herself.

"The script is currently being worked on, but basically you demonstrate how to hand out forms, and how to work on a log, and things like that." Derrick Williams informed her. "We'll use a stock set for much of it, with exterior or interior views of houses as needed and obviously a stop or two at the centre. Say one or two days to nail the basic dialog, mixed in with cut scenes for when we deal with volunteers. Then a day or two at the centre, or other locations."

"Um, will I be encountering... I mean what kind of volunteers... Um, make that, will I be working around..." Chelsea cursed her less than professional performance as she stammered over the wording of her question.

"You're asking if you'll encounter any of the Sylvan techniques being applied?" Derrick Williams asked. "Well, they'll be happening, definitely during the shoot. Would you like to encounter any of them?"

Chelsea pictured herself in the same room as a 'volunteer' who was being given a sore backside. It was weird, picturing that, and Chelsea wasn't sure if her mental image was good enough to capture the feeling of being there. And if it wasn't, she might not have the right momentum when she read certain lines.

"I guess I wouldn't mind." Chelsea answered.

"Then someone will make a note that you don't care one way or the other about being there when it happens." Derrick Williams told Chelsea. "And it will be happening. Make no mistake, even if you decide to leave this project it will still go on. One of the reasons for some of the staff changes was that various people disagreed with what the client wanted to do, and thought that leaving the project would prevent the various Sylvan methods being demonstrated. Of course their departure did nothing of the kind; all their leaving did was inconvenience us and cost them a paycheque."

Chelsea nodded, wondering if it was too late to change her mind about being open to seeing the Sylvan methods applied. She didn't really want to see anything like that, but she knew the producer's words were meant for everyone in the room. Anyone who appeared as if they might want depart the project might be let go before their departure impacted negatively on the project.

After the conference ended, Chelsea found herself following with a small crowd - since they seemed to know where they were going. She ended up in another conference room, where she sat around for most of the day waiting for a script. That and making conversation with some of the other actors. There was Stacy Lockington, who was currently cast as 'Tracy's mom' (Tracy being an uncast friend of Chelsea's character); Joan McKinnon, cast 'Sally's mom' (another of Chelsea's character's friends); Dora Edwards, who character lacked a name but was assumed to be a neighbour; and Ted Jackson, another neighbour type.

"I'm not sure if this a good part for me." Stacy Lockington mused. "I'm worried about getting typed cast, but my agent thinks it's a good idea."

"Tell me about it." Joan McKinnon agreed. "I've done a couple of commercials where I was playing Aunt Sally, and now I'm Sally's mother. I like having the work, but if I get fixed in a role, well, that's never good."

"At least you have something to ground your character on." Dora Edwards noted. "I'm just a floating neighbour. Practically a random person."

"Oh, I'm sure our characters will be fleshed out more in the next draft." Ted Jackson assured her, then he turned to Chelsea. "And I take it you're Candi. How do you feel about this whole thing?"

"Well, a job's a job and paying work's is paying work." Chelsea commented.

"How true." Stacy Lockington agreed. "How very true."

From there the talk turned to other work, and jobs that Chelsea hadn't been on, and which agent was out to screw over the talent. Chelsea didn't join the conversation, but she stayed where she had been told to be.

She did leave the room a few time, either going for water or to use the washroom, but mostly just sat around and acted like she wasn't bored out of her mind - which was one of the hardest acting jobs she had taken on. At least it was until her last trip out of the room, when she overheard someone (probably someone associated with the Sylvan Centre) getting a hands on (or maybe hairbrush on - Chelsea couldn't tell) demonstration of the methods that the Sylvan Centre espoused. She assumed that it was it something to do with a part they were filming.

'At least I hope that's what happening.' Chelsea thought to herself. She hated to think that the Sylvan people were mixing their work with the project.


But that first day was basically a wash. When Chelsea left she had only two thoughts on her mind. The minor one was that she still hadn't seen a script, but her major worry was over whether she was being paid for this day. She wasn't overjoyed to be working with the Sylvan people, but to spend a day doing nothing for free would really hurt. Not that she could complain, no, it was important to seen as a trooper, but unpaid work was something that amateurs did, not professionals like her. At least not unless she was trying to pad her résumé and she was getting too far along in her career to waste her time doing résumé padding work.

That evening she called Collin Fletcher and went over the day's events, and was assured that everything was being worked out on this new project.

"It looks like another two, maybe three days, depending on if they get their act together. And since the delays are their fault it means stretching your paycheque. So don't worry, relax, and nail this part. You nail this part and it will be a gateway to better, higher paying work." Collin Fletcher told her.

When Collin Fletcher got off the phone he bit back a sigh. Handholding young talent was mostly a waste of time, but if even one of the young dears hit the big time the revenue stream would more than cover all the handholding he was doing now. And he couldn't understand why Chelsea had any problems with this spot - work was paycheque and in the end that was all that mattered.


Chelsea was more relaxed on her second ride out to the site. Now that she knew that she wouldn't be involve in the, er, 'hands on' aspect of the project she could view it as just another project.


The second day things went much faster. Chelsea was gathered together with a group of ten to fifteen people, and scripts were handed out. Chelsea began to flip through the pages to get a feel for her role when a new script (yellow pages) was thrust into her hands.

"Um, I don't want to sound like a complainer, but when will the part be nailed down?" Chelsea asked. "Not that I need that much time to nail the lines, but if I had an overview of the part, then I could get more on the character and..."

"It's a work in progress." Dianne Culley answered she handed out scripts. "I mean it's, well, the fine points are still being worked on."

Chelsea nodded to the PA and kept a smile on her face. She knew that a lowly PA couldn't affect real change in anything on the set. Rather than to take things further she buried her head in the current script, trying to get some feel for the character. The phrase 'tour guide' came to mind; the character was a badly constructed foil that existed solely to explain the Latchkey program. The script was reading a bit like an infomercial where she was shrilling how good the Sylven Latchkey was and how a girl only a few years younger than Chelsea should do to make the program work.

There was quick visit to wardrobe, where there was a costume waiting for her. It was demure dress that Chelsea would never wear, but if they were going for the dutiful daughter look Chelsea thought that this dress nailed it. Of course the outfit came with underwear, socks, shoes, and the rest - all carefully selected so if the camera caught them they would match her outfit.

After she changed a woman named Judy was around to do her makeup. Chelsea couldn't help but notice that some of the older actors had their faces done by older, more experienced, people, which burned a bit. She knew she had the most lines in the project, which made her the star, but since she was the youngest actress on the set Chelsea kept her thoughts to herself.


Then they were on a set, and Chelsea was rehearsing her lines moments before going on camera. The energy on the set was building as some new people came to the set.

"Hello people, and let me start off by saying I'm sorry about the script changes. Has everyone got the blue pages? Dianne, hand out the blue pages. Now if everyone can get on the same, and eyes here. As many of you should remember, I'm Derrick Williams and while yesterday I was senior producer today I'm walking in the director's shoes. I'm not sure if I'm the unit director or the principle director, or what my final title will be, but time is passing and the budget isn't growing so if the production company is to make a profit we need to get a move on. Now while Ms. Tyson and Ms. Fields are on the set today they are mainly here as observers and won't be passing notes, at least not to anyone except me. Now, I realise this is a bit of rush, but if we could start filming?" Derrick Williams asked. "Now we'll start with scene 6c."

Chelsea nodded, flipped pages in her script, and began to commit the lines.

"Oh, and since there have been so many rewrites, try to just nail the character." Derrick Williams called to the cast. "If a line gets blown, just improv it. This shot is more than just the lines, it's about the whole Sylvan attitude. The actual words less important that the scene, if you can understand that. But of course you can! You're all professionals, so I'm sure this will run smoothly."

Chelsea found herself nodding along. She wasn't happy, the spectre of improv was the scariest spook she had ever seen, but she had to look like she was taking it was a professional would. She needed to project an aura of professionalism, or no one would treat her with the respect she hoped she deserved.

After a brief run through, Chelsea went through a scene. She started out with:

"Remember to careful about handing out those forms, because many of them WILL be used. But you should make sure that any adult who is in a position to supervise you has one."

Then moved on to a long demonstration on how to fill out something called a punishment log. She muffed a few lines, but they were able to work around some of them. Others were covered by doing cut scenes - filming her from other angles or closer up while she redid the dialogue. They worked most of the morning on getting that scene nailed down. Both Ms. Tyson and Ms. Fields had plenty of notes for Mr. Williams, and while they only gave those notes to Mr. Williams each note prompted a retake with things working slightly differently than the script had called for.

Retakes that Chelsea did with a smile on her face and a song in her heart - at least she hoped that it looked that she had song in her heart. Doing a perfect scene over again because an observer happened to have a note, that was hard to do it again with a smile on her face. But pros did what they had to do, and they acted like they wanted to do as they did it, so that was what Chelsea aimed for. Because the world was about acting, and if you acted like a star then you were a star. At least Chelsea hoped that was the way you became a star because that's all she had going for her.

At least she ended the morning in a different scene.

"Things like that are unfortunate, but they are what the form is really about." Chelsea explained.

And explained, and explained. Different expressions, different intonations, different ways of doing the scene.

Chelsea didn't think a one line scene was worth all that work, but she wasn't making the call. No, that was Mr. Williams and the two bitches from hell. Chelsea had heard horror stories about doing a commercial with the client in the room, but now she was living it. The two women just wouldn't accept that most of the shot would be fixed in post, they wanted it perfect on the day. As if it wasn't just one more cut scene mixed in among the countless cut scenes that would make up the finished project.

Lunch was Chinese takeout, something that Chelsea enjoyed. It partly made up for the morning, but Chelsea hoped that the women "observers" wouldn't be the same perfectionists that they had been that morning. As Judy retouched her makeup Chelsea learnt, to her relief she wasn't the only character on screen for the next bit - trying to make the shot work all by herself. Of course having other characters on screen led to miscues and flubbed lines, but they adlibbed at points and did seen after scene of Chelsea's character handing out 'spank me' forms with a cheerful face. She gave one to her friend Sally's mother, and to her friend's Tracy's mother, and then to her friend's Sally's mother without mentioning Sally's name. Countless variations on the same stupid theme.

It was hour after hour putting her heart and soul into her role as Candi, the brain dead latchkey kid who didn't think there was anything weird about handing out the 'spank me' forms to near perfect strangers, and when shooting was called Chelsea was ready for a break.

An afternoon meal break relieved some her tensions, but after a long day of work people were getting frazzled. On the bright side, Ms. Tyson seemed to have left for the day, which meant fewer notes and a faster flow for the scenes.

Chelsea did several takes of staring into the camera saying: "But of course it's not always like that."

Then the PA was going around with the pink pages of a new rewrite.

With Judy touching up her makeup again, Chelsea barely had time to glance at the new pages before she was doing her first scene with Dora Edwards. And from the first read through it seemed that the two of them had different scripts.

"And cut." Derrick Williams called. "Okay, what's wrong?"

"Well she's stepping over my lines..." Dora Edwards began.

"I'm stepping on your lines?" Chelsea asked incredulously. "You aren't even saying your lines."

"Of course I am." Dora Edwards snapped.

"The pink pages?" Chelsea asked.

A conference was held, during which different versions of the script was examined. There were two versions - both on pink paper. Derrick Williams read through them both, and Ms. Tyson was called in for her opinion. After ten minutes of talking things through they came to decision.

"We need some conflict in the project." Derrick Williams decided. "Let's turn this into a semi-debate. Chelsea, you do your lines and Dora, you do those lines. Let's try to adlib around the lines - I want Chelsea to try to give you a form, and I want Dora to try to interrupt her and do her part."

Chelsea nodded, and tried to do her part like the trooper she wanted people to think she was.

They took three or four takes, always with Dora Edwards ending with:

"Candi, I've been very disappointed with your behaviour recently. If you give me one of those forms you can expected it to be used today."

Chelsea's smile wavered a bit, but she persisted until the final cut was called. Then they switched to another scene, one that Chelsea hadn't even read.

"Shouldn't I get the lines down for this scene?" Chelsea asked as they set up the next scene.

"The client, that is Ms. Tyson, feels that an adlib take of this scene was a good idea." Derrick Williams explained. "Just go with the flow and there won't be a problem."

What followed was a surreal experience. There was Chelsea, looking for Candi's inner feelings, as Dora Edwards went through her lines. Then, for no reason that Chelsea could see, Dora Edwards was taking Chelsea by the arm and raising the hem of her dress and suddenly Chelsea was over the woman’s lap and was getting a spanking on the seat of her panties. At first Chelsea wasn't sure what was expected from her, but the spanking went on and on and then Chelsea was twisting and kicking and yelping, not caring whether it was scripted or not.

As the smacks rang out and the heat built, the only thing that kept Chelsea from screaming "Fucking stop this" was the knowledge the camera was rolling and capturing all it.

Then, mercifully, the spanking stopped. Chelsea's face was too full of tears and snot for her to notice at first. It took long second for her to even notice that the awful hand was no longer crashing down on her backside. Then someone was leading her off the set.


It took Chelsea more than twenty minutes to recover, then she set about making heads roll. Her first call was to her agent, and when Collin Fletcher arrived he was steaming mad. To her relief, Chelsea's agent took her at her word and didn't ask to see proof of the outrage that had been inflicted on her backside before going to war on Chelsea's behalf.

Derrick Williams was surprised, nay, shocked by the problem, and promised to get to the root of the mix-up. Chelsea ended up standing (as sitting was a bit of problem) in an office while Collin Fletcher and Derrick Williams thrashed things out. As the two men went over various things, Dianne Culley (one of the PAs) was looking through the poorly kept files.

"Um, this is Chelsea's folder, but these aren't her records." Dianne Culley announced.

Chelsea stared dumbfounded. Could that be the entire problem? Could a miss-filed form be the reason for her stinging bottom?

"Then where's her real paperwork?" Collin Fletcher thundered.

More searching produced the paperwork that Chelsea had filed out. The forms that she had forged her parents names on. The ones, it turned out, that she hadn't read carefully enough.

"So if that box was checked..." Dianne Culley said quickly, knowing that if someone was getting fired over this it wouldn't be Derrick Williams.

"One check box?" Collin Fletcher snorted.

"And there was this note!" Dianne Culley exclaimed. "That actress didn't mind the use of the Sylvan techniques. It's in your handwriting. From that first meeting?"

Chelsea's mind raced.

"Wait, you said something about being exposed to the techniques. Exposed as in being in the same room with them, not being subject to them." Chelsea protested.

"But the note isn't worded well." Dianne Culley said, hoping to keep her job. "And that box was checked. And Ms. Tyson said something about Ms. Fields being onboard with it while Ms. Fields wasn't there to say anything when it happened."

The mention of Ms. Tyson's name, she who was overseeing this shot, brought a level of calmness to the room. Collin Fletcher recognised the name, and Derrick Williams didn't want trouble with his principles.

"So where do we go from here?" Derrick Williams asked. "I mean, you can't unspank a bottom, but we've got an entire day in the can and schedule to meet."

"Perhaps a quick conference?" Collin Fletcher suggested.

Moments later Collin Fletcher and Chelsea were standing on the other side of the door.

"Now I don't know why your parents filled that form out that way..." Collin Fletcher began.

"They were in a hurry and made a mistake." Chelsea answered, telling mostly the truth. The person who had signed those forms had been in a hurry and had made a mistake. "But it was just that one box! There were countless other places where..."

"So it was a mistake." Collin Fletcher nodded. "The question is what do we do now?"

Chelsea opened her mouth to answer, but her agent interrupted her.

"Let's go over the options. You can walk away now, and no one would blame you if you did, not after that crazy mistake." Collin Fletcher assured his client. "But the only thing is walking now leaves at least one, maybe two days of shooting on the table, and that's a lot of money."

Chelsea nodded as she thought over his words.

"Or we could pretend that this didn't happen, but that might be leaving money on the table." Collin Fletcher continued.

"What do you mean?" Chelsea asked.

"Which brings us to the third option." Collin Fletcher said smoothly. "I go back in there and renegotiate. We've got them over a barrow - they have to redo an entire day's shooting or pay us more for you doing the uncompensated stunt work."

"Stunt work?" Chelsea asked.

"Yeah, acting through a situation that could result in pain or minor injury qualifies as stunt work." Collin Fletcher informed. "If I did that we could be talking about doubling your paycheque."

Chelsea started with the mental math.

"The thing is, if we do that, well..."

"Well what?" Chelsea asked as she mentally counted the extra money.

"If we do that then you'll have to be available for extra stunt work." Collin Fletcher continued. "Which almost certainly would mean another sore bottom. Maybe two, or even more."

The dollar signs in Chelsea's eyes began to fade, and she mentally cursed her agent. If he had started with that fact she wouldn't have counted the extra money, and now that she had...

"Well, um..." Chelsea began, then trailed off.

"Maybe we should consult your folks?" Collin Fletcher suggested.

"No, that won't be necessary." Chelsea answered quickly. They knew, they had to know, how she forged their names, but wouldn't do to rub their faces in it.

"Well, if that's your decision I'll try to get you top dollar." Collin Fletcher assured her.

Her agent was through the door before his words registered. The door was closing after him before she could think of something to say.

"But I never really agreed." Chelsea muttered.

No one heard her. Collin Fletcher was yelling and Derrick Williams was screaming back. Mixed in with the threats of walking off the set (which were being met with threats of a lawsuit) were carefully phrased words hinting that Chelsea might stay. As the negotiations went on, Chelsea knew that it was too late to change her bargaining position.

"But I never did say yes. Just that we didn't have to call my folks." Chelsea muttered, knowing that it no longer mattered. "I guess that the karma thing didn't work after all. Maybe I should stop thanking drivers?"


When Collin Fletcher left that office he had gleam in his eye and had more than doubled his commission. Chelsea had overheard enough of the negotiations that she wasn't surprised when he told her that she had more 'stunt work' in her near future. As her buns burned, Chelsea hoped that she was up for it.

"But don't worry, it won't be more than one of the latchkey kids would face at a Sylvan centre." Collin Fletcher concluded.

"But those girls are younger than I am." Chelsea pointed out.

"Not always, and if they are then it just means that a girl your age can take more without complaining." Collin Fletcher quipped.

Chelsea wasn't sure what her agent meant by that, so stayed quiet hoping that he would think she understood him.


That night, Chelsea took a soothing bath and by morning all the traces of her misadventure were gone. Of course she didn't tell her parents, not about the forgery, the mix up, or the new contract. What they didn't know wouldn't hurt them, and she didn't want them asking questions or (even worse) hanging around the set.

As she arrived she thanked her cab driver, hoping that the karma thing would work out after all. Once at the studio she visited wardrobe and discovered that today's shoot would involve yellow shorts and nice looking T-shirt. Chelsea saw it a positive thing:

'You can't pull up a pair of shorts like you can a hem.' Chelsea thought as she donned the new outfit.

That morning Chelsea examined all the 'props' in her dressing room before going onto the set. At least yesterday the latchkey kit and assorted literature had been props, but now it was a resource to learn what she might face. Chelsea winced at what the pamphlets said could happen to the bottom of someone in the latchkey program, because now her own bottom faced the same threats.

Once she was in costume Chelsea had her face fixed by Judy from make up.

"I think I like this outfit better than yesterday's." Chelsea commented.

"Well don't get to used to it." Judy advised. "There are at least half a dozen costume changes scheduled."

"What? Why?" Chelsea asked.

"They want this shoot to look like you've done things over several days." Judy informed the actress. "They don't want it look like a sudden or impulsive decision on the character's part, or something."

"Really?" Chelsea asked. "How do you know?"

"I heard the writers talking about it." Judy revealed. "Why? Haven't you seen today's script?"

"Script? If I saw a script then I would have... I mean I wouldn't have..."

"Let me guess - you found yourself on the wrong side of stunt work?" Judy quizzed.

"How did you, I mean what makes you say that?" Chelsea asked. She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks and wished she was a better actress. She tried to focus on her acting exercises and force the heat down.

"Oh, just a lucky guess." Judy chuckled. "Because this is a shoot for Sylvan, which makes something like kind of likely. I mean I know they said they would get Sylvan kids for those scenes, but they're trying to make a budget work out here. If they can get the scene with just the one body, then why add another to the payroll? Even if there's only a token payment you still have to pay someone to process all their paperwork and add them to the insurance in case a workplace accident happens."

"So what happened was about the headcount?" Chelsea exclaimed. "It was all just to save a few dollars! That's... That's..."

"That's the way the world works on these low budget shoots." Judy nodded calmly. "If they can stretch a dollar then they'll stretch a dollar. Look at me - I'm working make up on three projects at once for one paycheque. Now is that fair?"

"Three projects? What are the other two?" Chelsea asked.

"Well, there was supposed to be just one 'The is the latchkey program' educational movie, but they had too much to cover to do it all in one go." Judy explained. "So there's your project, and one to tell parents why they should enrol their kids in the latchkey program."

"That makes sense." Chelsea nodded. "So what's the third one about?"

"I'm not sure." Judy admitted. "I think it's to show at schools or something. Something to let the rest of the support system know how they can fit in and work with the new system. Or something like that. I'm not really sure."

"So they thought that one movie could handle all three markets?" Chelsea asked incredulously.

"Yeah, can you believe it? Anyway, your face's done." Judy noted.

"So, um, have you seen a script yet? Because..." Chelsea began then, not waiting to admit that she was worried about the future state of her behind, she let her voice trail off.

"I've heard that there are new pages, and we're going to be on location." Judy informed her.

"Location? You mean at one to the Sylvan Centres? Because..."

"No, I mean we're doing exterior shots." Judy clarified. "They're bringing along a make up and wardrobe trailer, and filming on some street they've booked."


Chelsea soon found herself standing on a residential street, half wishing that the filming would start already. Rather than filming they were checking the ever changing light levels (with the shadows shifting each time the sun crested another house), sound levels, and setting up each shot so it would look just right. As she stood around she flipped through the latest script, looking for any sign of upcoming 'stunt work'. Normally she would be looking for insight into her character, but she already knew everything she had to know about the idiot Candi. Candi was stupid enough to smile when she signed up for the Latchkey program, and brain dead enough to pass out "spank me whenever you want" forms to near perfect strangers. Candi was just another corporate shrill explaining trying to sell a product that Chelsea didn't believe in but was ready to smile and sell as long as someone was paying her. No, she wasn't looking for insight into Candi but clues for whether she would leave the site with a sore bum.


But there wasn't the slightest sign of anything like that in the script. Just of Candi standing on the sidewalk or in front of houses while she handed out a new bunch of forms. Chelsea wasn't sure just how many forms a kid in the Latchkey program would get, but Cindi must be handing out dozens of them.

'Maybe they won't show all the scenes.' Chelsea mused. 'Maybe they'll just show a few of them.'

Finally they had the first scene set up and Chelsea painted on a smile and did her spiel. With careful angling the first house looked like two different ones, one for each person Chelsea was acting against. After handing out the two forms they called for a costume change as they set up the next house for a shot.

Chelsea left the wardrobe trailer feeling uncomfortably collection before (and hadn't thought that they made clothes in her size) but had heard about their special feature; that they were designed to make it easy to lift the skirt and bare the wearer's bottom. It was a test of her acting abilities to look comfortable wearing something like that on this set, but Chelsea felt she pulled it off.

But she wasn't sure if she hid her look of relief when a stretch of the street was being set up and they called for another wardrobe change. Chelsea didn't fake her smile as she emerged from the trailer wearing a cotton print dress, ready to hand out a form to a Puerto Rican woman and an Arab looking man. Then it was back to wardrobe for what looked like a school uniform and another round of people who needed to have Candi's form - or at least people that Candi was stupid enough to add to the "you can spank me" list.

When she changed back into the yellow shorts and T-shirt she had started the day in Chelsea felt some of her nerves return. If they were recycling clothing, then sooner or later the Sylva outfit would be in another shoot, and that could lead to something that she didn't want to think about. Chelsea tried not to think about that, but couldn't find the energy to make small talk with Judy while Chelsea's make up was fixed.

Noon was approaching, which was playing havoc with the lighting levels, when Chelsea walked up in her yellow shorts and T-shirt to a door.

Then she paused as Ted Jackson missed his cue.

"Cut!" Derrick Williams called. "Okay, let's try that again. And this time can we try to do it right. Ted, do want to review your cues?"

"But I'm supposed to wait until she opens the door." Ted Jackson protested.

"What? Okay, everyone take five." Derrick Williams called.

As the crew took a break Derrick Williams called the actors together.

"So what's the story?" Derrick Williams asked. "Let's check scripts."

Chelsea saw at a glance that the pages of Ted Jackson's script were a different colour than hers.

"Um, so which one is the latest script?" Chelsea asked nervously.

"Damn, they both have the same version number." Derrick Williams cussed. "Okay, give them here."

Chelsea and Ted Jackson both handed over their scripts and Derrick Williams flipped through them.

"Okay, they're mostly the same, and we're losing the light." Derrick Williams noted. "Let's try to adlib through it. Ted, your new cue is Chelsea approaches the door. She doesn't open it because this isn't her house. She doesn't ring the bell because you're outside to meet her. Most of the dialog is the same, so let's try to get this before the light shifts."

Lights were set up, the sound boom was adjusted, and the scene was set for the second take. Then action was called.

Chelsea stood outside the house while Ted Jackson approached.

"Candi, I'd like to address some concerns I have about your recent behaviour." Ted Jackson stated.

"Can't it wait?" Chelsea asked earnestly. "Your wife will be home in only..."

"No, I'm afraid this can't wait."

"But..."

Then, to her surprise, Ted Jackson took her arm and started dragging her away. Chelsea adlibbed some weak protests as Ted Jackson dragged her to the doorway.

"And cut!" Derrick Williams called.

"Um, so about that next scene..." Chelsea started to ask.

"Okay people, that's it." Derrick Williams called. It's time for interiors shots."

Chelsea found her question ignored as the crew bundled up things and the production moved. She ended up sharing a mini-van with half the people from wardrobe. They were so busy talking shop that she didn't had the nerve to ask if anyone knew anything about the afternoon's shooting schedule. While she had a script, Chelsea didn't put any faith in it. If there was two different scripts with the same version number then anything was possible.


Once back at the studio, Chelsea found herself standing around as they filmed close ups of people saying something after accepting the form from Cindi. It was more than two hours before she was back in front of the camera. Then she found herself doing costume changes almost as frequently as when she was on location.

After explaining a small but critical point about the punishment log eight times (a small mistake, a stutter, and five lighting errors meant eight takes), Chelsea returned to wardrobe to change out of that dread Sylvan outfit and back into the outfit she had started the day with.

She had acted a few scenes opposite of Ted Jackson (introducing his character with scenes that were set before the outdoor confrontation they had filmed that morning), who still seemed to have the wrong script, and bit back a sigh when she saw him positioned for the next scene she bit back a sigh.

"Okay people, let's get to scene 59C." Derrick Williams called.

"59C?" Chelsea asked, thumbing through her script. "What's scene 59C?"

"Oh, isn't that in your script?" Ted Jackson asked, then sheepishly looked away.

"Um, no?" Chelsea answered. "It's not."

"Damn." Derrick Williams cursed. "What are we paying those writers for? Or is it the editors? Do we even have editors? Okay, it's not a big scene, but it's critical for the product. And I'm not sure if there are even set lines for the Cindi character."

There was a small conference; Derrick Williams put his head together with Ms. Tyson and Ms. Fields, then when back to the director's chair.

"Okay, let's run through the scene. Odds are we won't need we won't need any real dialogue."

"Um, why not?" Chelsea asked with a with a sinking feeling.

"Because it's one of those stunt scenes we talked to your agent about." Derrick Williams explained. "It was originally going to be worked in by a volunteer from the Sylvan program, but now that you've signed on for stunt work there's been a re-write."

"Oh? Oh. Oh! Um, what kind of, um, stunt work?" Chelsea asked.

Derrick Williams described it a few sentences. Chelsea considered what he said, then asked the logical question:

"Are you nuts?"

But they weren't, at least not in their own minds. Derrick Williams called out that they were going try to do it in one take, then, even while Chelsea was insisting that they were nuts, they started to film.

"This scene isn't going to work." Chelsea insisted. "It's just not."

Ted Jackson ignored her protests. Chelsea kept protesting, but to no avail. All too soon her yellow shorts had been discarded - along with what she'd worn under them. She was cursing at the top of her lungs, but the cameras kept rolling.

"Don't worry." Derrick Williams assured his clients. "We can edit the first part out. Once the swearing and calls for people to cut action are over it will look like any other girl getting a belt on the bottom."

"Of course it will." Ms. Tyson nodded sagely. "The start of one of those scenes might be different, but they all end the same way."

Once Chelsea was completely lost in the role of 'naughty Candi getting the belt on her bottom' Ted Jackson said the one line he had for this scene:

"Buck up." Ted Jackson urged as he brought the doubled over belt down again. "If you weren't prepared to accept this you shouldn't have given me the form."

Chelsea just sobbed as tears streamed down her face. She wanted to say something witty, something that would put Ted Jackson in his place, but all she could do was sob as the belt's doubled loop crashed down again and again.


Chelsea never heard the word 'cut' being called. All she knew that was suddenly the belt had stopped falling and Ted Jackson was helping her off his lap. He was saying something about merely following the script, but Chelsea wasn't listening. All she knew was that the most awful thing that had ever happened to her was over. Someone was getting her into a skirt, which felt too hot on her burning backside but Chelsea was grateful that she wasn't expected to put the shorts back on.

As she stooped there, shifting from foot to foot while she tried to rub the heat and pain out of her backside, someone took charge of her and moved her back towards to the wardrobe department. Chelsea stayed there until she got her sobbing under control. Not the heat or the pain - Chelsea knew that only time could deal with that - but as long as she able to act like she wasn't in pain then she could still call herself a professional.

By the time she poked her head out of wardrobe they were done with her for the day. Chelsea wandered off to see what was happening on another set, then ducked her head out as fast as she could. There was boy in that room, an unhappy looking boy a couple of years younger than her, who was lowering his jeans as an actress that Chelsea vaguely recognised tapped a hairbrush meaningfully against her palm.

Then someone tapped her on the shoulder and Chelsea almost jumped out of her skin.

"Sorry." Dianne Culley said apologetically. "I just wanted to tell you that we're done with you for the day."

"Oh, right." Chelsea said.

Then she winced as she heard the hairbrush making impact. A quick glance over her shoulder told her the boy was feeling it over his underpants.

"Him?" Dianne Culley said. "He's one of the Sylvan kids they brought in. He's already in the program, and the only odd thing about what's happening is his parents agreed to let us film it, so it's happening here as opposed to there. Don't worry, it's just stunt work."

"Um, speaking about stunt work." Chelsea said, failing to fight off a blush. "Um, about that, um, I'm not sure if... I mean I don't think that, um, I mean it won't be pale for tomorrow so..."

"Oh, that's all right." Dianne Culley responded, checking her clipboard. "Don't worry, I'm sure the client knows about staging around things like that. I'm not entirely sure if they are even planning more, um, stunt work for you. I mean, after today they can't expect you to do more stunts, can they?"

Chelsea felt herself relaxing, something that she never thought she would be able to do while hearing a hairbrush landing on some random boy's backside. But it wasn't about that boy, no, her mind was focused on her own wounded tail.


That night Chelsea found herself staring at her backside in the bathroom mirror. She was horrified at its appearance. It even looked liked there were bruises forming!

'They can't ask me to do more stunt work.' Chelsea told herself. 'They'll have to know that. They're the experts on this type of thing.'

That night Chelsea slept on her stomach and the next morning she winced when she dressed. But she was professional; she didn't wince when she sat down for breakfast or when got into her cab. As she left that cab the driver wished her a nice day.

"Go fuck yourself." Chelsea snarled back; if karma was going to be bitch to her then she would be a bitch to karma.

The driver did a double take, but didn't bother saying anything.


When Chelsea saw a script she began to relax. The morning would be spent handing out more forms. Various men and women smiled as they took forms from 'Cindi', and they all said what a nice, mature thing it was that she handling out the forms. As she performed mind numbing scene after mind numbing scene Chelsea was congratulating herself. She wasn't limping, or wincing as her cheeks rubbed together, and otherwise acting as if she hadn't been given a hard strapping just the day before. Doing that, controlling her body language, was a harder acting job than reciting the simple lines she had been given, and Chelsea congratulating herself doing it.

At least she was until that afternoon. Once more she sent to a location, only this time it wasn't a random street. This time it was the Sylvan Centre.

Chelsea fought off a wince as she entered; she had to walk passed a pair of sobbing girls that were only a few years younger than her.

Heather Langley glanced up from her desk at the crowd of people entering the centre. Unsure of why they were there she focused on the one person whose role she could guess at.

"Hello there." Heather said with a smile. "Do you have an appointment?"

Chelsea lost her fight with her blush and muttered that she was here for a commercial.

"Oh, was that today?" Heather said, flipping through the appointment book. "There's nothing here, but then again Ms. Fields might not have had it entered in the book."

Then the production crew was there to explain things and Heather was flattered that she was being asked to act in the production.

"But who will handle the normal intakes?" Heather asked.

"Oh, don't worry. We'll just work around those." Derrick Williams told her.

And that's what they did. Chelsea did her lines (lines from a script that was printed off on one of the Sylvan Centre's computers) as Heather helped explain how the system worked, doing takes around kids who were registering at the centre.

'Why did they have to use the desk at an actual centre?' Chelsea wondered as they filmed the scenes. 'Couldn't they afford to build a mock up?'

Then it was time for a costume change, and Chelsea discovered that the Sylvan Centre had its own locker room. The building hid locker rooms, an auditorium, and things that Chelsea didn't want to guess at.


Chelsea soon saw a new script and discovered that this costume change was only one of many as they attempted to imply that brain dead Candi was a frequent visitor here. As she changed, she fought off the urge to wince every time she left the locker wearing an outfit with Sylvan logo. Part of her knew that it was just product placement, but there was a part of her that knew how the product being placed could be shifted in a way to bare her bum.

Of course the locker room wasn't private; Chelsea had no idea why the rest of the people used it (or even why it was needed), but years of had taught Chelsea how to change anywhere. You just couldn't make it in the cramped dressing rooms you needed to use as a starting actress and still be the girl who changed under a towel.

Partway through her third change Chelsea realised that she was flashing her bum, her still marked bum, to others who ... Who had to see the marks, but no one was reacting to them. Almost as if they expected to see them. She kept her eyes open after than, and noticed some of the other girls changing, well, some of them had marks that looked more recent than Chelsea's.

And it wasn't hard to tell how they got that way. Walking the halls of the Sylvan Centre Chelsea saw countless kids walking around rubbing at their backsides and sniffing. Others looked more disconcerted, as if they were heading to a session (and Chelsea thought they probably were), but others looked like they were dealing with the aftermath.

Then there were the rooms. Some of the places she passed seemed very odd. There was one room with a large box near the door labelled 'underwear' and half a dozen nervous looking girls wearing skirts. As Chelsea was walking by the door another girl entered, reached under her skirt, and removed her underwear in one flowing motion that mostly hid everything below her skirt.

Then a woman walking near that door asked Chelsea if she was scheduled for a reassessment, and Chelsea had to politely say no to another Sylvan employee.

That was a danger in this place. Everyone was so polite, but often firm, and they all seemed to want to help Chelsea get to where they thought she was supposed to be going. Chelsea quickly stopped her initial "Do I look young enough to..." reaction, which drew amused looks, and made "I'm here shooting a promo movie" her standard response. Even then she felt that if she wandered away from the crew there might be some problems, so she stuck close by them whenever she could.

It wasn't only sad faces that she saw, and she saw bums in more places than just the locker room. Passing by some of the doors she could glance in and see kids getting it, and more than one person walked by rubbing at a visibly red bottom. They were mostly girls, whose rubbing hands were lifting their skirts enough to show more than a bit of cheek, but there was the occasional boy who was wearing only a shirt or T-shirt rubbing at his backside. As far as Chelsea was concerned this place was a madhouse, but she kept her professional smile on and acted the role of brain dead Candi who bought into every thing that Sylvan offered.


Between scenes Chelsea wandered into the gift shop, and tried to keep a smile on her face. She avoided the clothes (that seem to come in sizes that were a bit too large for Sylvan's program) and wandered over to the videos. They seemed to cover the gambit of almost every possible "someone spanks and someone (or several someones) gets spanked" situation. In a way it was depressing that her own face would soon join the crowd looking down from the video shelf, but in a way it comforting. Lost among so many other characters, who would recognise Chelsea playing the role of Candi?

'No one. Absolutely no one.' Chelsea feverishly hoped.

But browsing through the gift shop didn't feel entirely safe. The people in that shop didn't seem to know that she was here filming. Some were staff, but others seemed to be family members of the kids enrolled in the Sylvan Centre. Them, and a few of the kids were wondering through the gift shop. Feeling their eyes on her made Chelsea nervous, and she soon sought out the crew.

And wished she hadn't. Most of the crew were in one of the rooms - with the door to so a camera could film through it - and Chelsea could hear some kid yelping as it was smacked.

"Oh, hi." Dianne Culley said, noticing Chelsea's presence. "Um, sorry. This is one of the scenes for one of the other projects and they kind of borrowed the crew."

"Um, so what is it showing?" Chelsea asked, as if her ears weren't telling her what was happening that room.

"This is scene to show the average parent what their child could expect when they enrol their children in the Latchkey Program." Dianne Culley answered, her professional smile never wavering.

"Oh, so shooting is delayed? Is there any chance we'll go an extra day?" Chelsea asked, hoping to be paid for another day of stunt work while not doing any.

Dianne Culley's eyes went wide at the thought. Chelsea could almost see the dollar signs running through the PA's mind at the idea of the company running that much over budget.

"Oh, no, I'm sure that won't happen." Dianne Culley assured her. "No, the other production has its own crew, but they had to rush this scene while the kid was here. The kid's one of the people enrolled in the program, so it had to be filmed now since the kid's here now. There's no two ways about it, so they needed to borrow the crew."

Chelsea found herself nodding, and mentally saying goodbye to an extra day of pay that had never actually been promised to her, but that she had already half spent in her mind.

While it was uncomfortable standing there and listening to what was going on, Chelsea did it. She just didn't feel comfortable wandering the place. Too many people had acted as if she belonged in one of those rooms getting her butt tanned, which was depressing because that meant that they saw as someone young enough to be enrolled in the Sylven program. Chelsea knew that she could play young, and the way she was dressed (especially when she was wearing a Sylvan outfit) lent credence to her youthful appearance, but she didn't think she looked that young. Maybe it was just the fact that she was in the building that made them associate her with someone young enough to be sent here. Regardless of why they thought she young enough to be enrolled here, Chelsea didn't want to risk a mistake on the scale of what happened with Dora Edwards.

With Dora Edwards, Chelsea knew that she could have yelled and screamed and they would have called a halt to shooting. But here, from what Chelsea could see they would take yelling and screaming as a matter of course. While the crew would have stopped shooting, Chelsea thought that most anyone here would do was call for assistance in dealing with an uncooperative Sylvan client.

So she stood there, listening, until it was time to shoot her next scene.


'This is the day from hell.' Chelsea thought to herself.

With the interruption of the day's schedule to work on another project everything was running late and the crew was rushing. Chelsea was tired of getting the script moments before she filmed the scene, and wished that the shot was already over.

"So I turn in my logbook to a technician for the third time?" Chelsea asked as she glanced over the script.

It was the third time, and she was acting off a third tech. A third person who didn't have any acting experience and would probably muff his lines.

Chelsea went over the now familiar lines with this Mr. Ericson guy, wondering who would believe that she would ever deal with a male tech at a place like this.

"And I see we have a number of issues to address today." Mr. Ericson said, nodding as he went over her log.

When cut was called Chelsea thought they might over for the day, then noticed a new scene being printed out and bit back a sigh.

Then, as she was being handed the pages, Chelsea noticed they were moving into one of the things that the centre euphemistically called a treatment room. Glancing at the pages, Chelsea's heart sank. While the crew was setting up the shot, Chelsea cleared her throat.

"Um, I was kind of, um, doing 'stunt work' yesterday, and, um, the camera might pick it up. Or signs of it." Chelsea pointed out.

"Oh, don't worry about that." Mr. Ericson said soothingly.

Chelsea began to relax, but then Mr. Ericson had to continue and steal any comfort that Chelsea might have had.

"Based on the logbook, it will be happening over your jeans, so nothing will show." Mr. Ericson revealed.

"Oh." Chelsea said in a small voice.

Then she looked around and began to panic slightly. Mr. Ericson referred to the room having a bench, but Chelsea could see that the word was another euphemism. Once she was her butt would be over a rounded, padded area while her upper body was fastened into something that reminded her of stocks. Mr. Ericson was gentle but firm as he secured her, then the crew started to lit the set.

Chelsea braced herself as action was called.

"So Candi, it's time we erased those demerits from your log." Mr. Ericson declared.

Then a strap was landing on her jeans. Chelsea could appreciate the difference (and wished that she couldn't) between how this strap felt like as it came down on her jeans and how the belt felt like as it came down doubled over on her bare bottom. Chelsea knew instinctively that she preferred to have something on when something like this was happening, but as Mr. Ericson kept up his professional pace Chelsea's instinct ruled with her reason. At least with the belting she had been able to kick and move, but this, being held like this, was almost as bad as the strapping.

Tears were flowing when Mr. Ericson stopped, but Chelsea was sure that this wasn't unexpected in anyway. The production staff expected it, Mr. Ericson expected, and Chelsea had half expected it when she saw the script.


After cut was called Chelsea headed back to the locker room to change into her normal clothing, and it was the reaction from those she passed that bothered her most of all. No one looking at her saw anything abnormal. She was limping, sobbing, rubbing at the seat of her jeans, and every one took it as a matter of course that a girl her age would be walking through the centre in that condition.

As she changed back into her normal clothing, Chelsea hoped that this would be the last day of shooting. She knew that she should be hoping to stretch the work - to hone her craft as much for the pay, but couldn't bring herself to do it. Those people were all crazy - even the ones making the video. She expected the people from the Sylvan Centre to be insane, but the crew, the production staff, even her fellow actors weren't reacting to the madness surrounding them....

Then it dawned on her that they might be acting as much as she was. That their insides might be turning and twisting as much as her own were, and like her they were concealing everything beneath a professional exterior.

When she left the centre it was by cab, and she knew that the driver knew why she couldn't sit comfortably in his car. As an acting exercise Chelsea forced herself to be polite, cheerful, and even tip the driver, because if she could project a good mood on a day like today then she could project anything, and that would mean she was a great actress.


That night she called her agent, and Collin Fletcher confirmed the shooting was over.

"They said they'd call if they need any scenes touched up, but they thought they could fix everything in post." Collin Fletcher informed his client. "So, a question: what would you say to more 'stunt work' in the future? This may open a few new doors for you."

"It would have to be a hell of a role for me to even consider it." Chelsea answered honestly. "Besides, I'm practically too old for it now, and I'd rather mature into roles than trying to play young. Playing young might bring money today, but it just labels you a child star so when you can't do it anymore they toss you on the scrap heap."

"I hear you." Collin Fletcher agreed; how could he not when she was basically echoing his own words back to him?


Normally Chelsea was proud of her work, making a production over every little walk on in a commercial, but not always. A few months later a complimentary copy of the video she shot for Sylvan turned up in her mail and she made sure to open the package when she was alone.

Chelsea grimaced at the cover. Then she played it and frowned. There it was, large as life, right on the screen - her bare bum getting strapped. She watched the video front to back three times, then put it back in its package and placed the package in amongst some old knickknacks she had stored in the back of her closet, and tried to put the entire thing out of her mind.

That shoot had been painful, and knowing that the video was being sold was humiliating, but that was the past. The future was as bright as ever, and in that future she could see herself becoming a star.

'You can do this Chelsea. You are an actress, a professional, and you can do anything.' Chelsea thought to herself, after her experience with Sylvan she believed it. Chelsea knew that if she could survive that (and she also told herself that she had emerged from that project unscathed) then she could do anything.

Anything.

"And I'd like to thank the Academy." Chelsea said, looking in the mirror and practising for a speech that she knew she would give.

Someday. Maybe even someday soon, the world was going to recognise her talent. It had to - it was Karma.

Goodgulf

[imreadonly]

A nice story. I would have preferred an ending where she's watching TV with her family & friends, and her spanking comes on in the form of a commercial.

Sure, she hadn't agreed to it, but you have to admit it would be fabulous exposure!

[padded23]

Very nicely written. I really liked the editing.

No seriously thanks man.

[goodgulf]

Thanks for the feedback, and to Shaun for the proofreading. If not for him there would be spots where Candi became Cindi or Cindy.

Goodgulf