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Isabella felt her breath pick up a bit in her throat as her mask fully fell off her face leaving her staring dumbfoundedly at the older woman. “T-That is a joke right?” She asked with a nervous chuckle of her own, her lips barely able to lift up into a smile.
The woman reached under the bar, and poured herself a glass of some kind of soda. “I am afraid not honey,” she replied as she brought that chilled glass up to her lips. “I was very much serious in the email we send out to our applicants, we learned from the past that once some learn about it they tend to quit. Or they take it as some joke and one session from myself, Mrs. Carter, or the owner himself gets them quite in their feelings to say the least.” She shook her head lightly as she added. “Honestly some of them deserve the damn thing more than they are willing to admit.”
Isabella found herself stumbling over her words. “B-but w-why use spa-” Isabella face burned as she couldn’t even say that word right now, her entire body, in fact, felt so hot right now and she found herself crossing and uncrossing her legs under the table. “Corporal punishment, I mean, isn’t that very much illegal?”
“Child there is no law that says an employer cannot use corporal punishment on an employee as long as both sides consent, and agree to it. Which you would have to as well if you choose to pursue this job offer.” Mrs. Simmon explained, her darker eyes narrowing like she was an old lioness who had possibly found some prey. “As for why we do it, it was an idea from the owner. Now I proposed it as a joke when he first bought this old bar of ours saw that servers acted more like children than adults in the early 20ths, and after speaking to myself and Mrs. Carter. He wanted to experiment with this, of course upon the announcement we lost half the staff but those that stayed completely changed their work efforts especially after a session from myself, Mrs. Carter, or Mr. Bradley. Some go on to better jobs as managers for restaurants or even like yourself might head back to college with a much better work effort. It also helped them a few of their own personal issues might have gotten them fired or pay cuts at other places. It is quick, right to the point, and leaves a little reminder on how to behave.”
“H-How does that even work and is it used for every little thing?”
“Child we do have a list of things that would be, spankable offenses.” Isabella hated how red her cheeks probably were right now or that feeling of static electricity that went down her body each time she saw that word. “For example coming in more than ten minutes late for work, if you are caught overpouring your drinks cause that is money out of our pockets. Something that will never fail to get you a visit from Mrs. Carter, now she is in charge of costs and that mistake will make her madder than a damn bull in a china shop. Stealing of course that will get you an option of being fired or punished in front of everyone. Now personally I am not a fan of lying or excuses that might be made, being rude to guests without a good reason, cause let’s be honest some people need a good screaming at to make them shut up and listen. As well as a few other things that will be listed in the package we give our girls.”
Isabella listened carefully to each one pulling at her fingers on each hand and silently squirming in her chair. “What happens if you come five minutes late?”
“Child it happens to the best of us, and if you do come in ten minutes late and have at least called to let us know that something happened. That is of course okay, we are a bit firm here but we are not monsters.”
“H-How often does that happen?”
“With new hires more than that it should.” Mrs. Simmons admitted. “Even after explaining and giving the rules. They tend to look at us like jokes for the first three days, trying to see what they can and cannot get away with. They learn quickly and keep learning until they decide to actually start listening, things move more smoothly that way for a night club of this size and popularity.” The woman then snapped her fingers as if she had forgotten to tell her something. “Also don’t go spreading rumors or drama inside of this building, I will personally put an end to that in a heartbeat. That is if you want to work here.”
“Why are you willing to offer me a position so soon?” She asked, her daddy had taught her that if a place hired you very quickly then it might not be a good place to work. A fact she timidly shared with Mrs. Rebecca when she asked why she had asked.
“Your father seems like a wise man.” The woman held up her rather long resume, the papers bending a bit backwards. She reached behind her ear and took out a sharp looking black pen that she had been keeping there. “I take a lot of time looking over applicants, young lady. I sent you that email once we did a background check and spoke to your previous hirer. Now that lady had a lot of good and very little bad to report about you. You seem honest-” Isabella eyes grew a bit darker at that word for a moment. “You are responsible and a hard worker from what she told me. Nearly a manager before you left yourself, now you would be starting on the lower end of the totem pole per say, but I have a feeling you will quickly climb your way back to the top. I even called your first employer to see if he remembered you and got more of the same. You have a good track record and that is always a good sign with me at least, and as the one in charge of hiring new girls to join us. If you can impress me, nine times out of ten you will get at least an offer from me.”
“And is the starting pay really true?”
Mrs. Simmons smiled as she started to get a bit more into the wages, it was competitive with the top three girls in tips and customer reviews getting pretty large bonuses. Her starting pay was confirmed to be 17.25 an hour and that was without tips. The older woman didn’t hide that she had the potential to make a pretty good amount of money working here. Especially on the weekend shifts that were fought over like meat thrown to hungry gators, however she always made sure to at least get her staff at least one weekend shift a month. However, the best servers always got first priority as another way to keep them working hard.
“Also if you ever feel threatened or endangered by a customer no matter who they are. We have two things to help you get more help.” She reached under the table and pulled out a small black disk with a blue button. “This is a panic button, just a simple push will alert security and no one wants to miss those boys. However we also have a gesture for you servers so they can either get help quicker or come and get you themselves. All my leads and the two floor managers on duty know to look for it like an eagle hunting her prey.” All she did was hold up her middle and pointer finger and fully extend her thumb outward. “Also a simple scream of help get his man away from me also works too.”
Isabella nodded her head, her mind focused on a certain word rather than anything else the woman had been saying. “It sounds amazing…” she managed to mumble out and even laughed a bit. “It is better than what I was expecting from a first job offer, how many people usually work on weekdays and weekends?”
“On average we have about 10 to 12 girls working the weekends, seven down here and five upstairs. That is a more private party lounge for couples and we have two areas for more VIP customers. On weekends we usually have about 20 girls working the floor, that does not include the kitchen staff, or the security, as well as the DJ’s or live music we have come in. Also Wednesday and Thursdays are open mic, so be ready for some of the best and worst singers you will ever hear.”
“What about that girl over there?” Isabella asked motioning towards the private space with a large piano and the pianist sitting at the keys. A soft amber haired girl with a much smaller frame and build.
“That young lady is Harper Row, she is a new server as well but her talents with that piano got her a bit of a special title from our owner. She has a few more expensive guests that go and sit in our more relaxed area to sip on wine and listen to her play that piano. A true gift if I am being honest, right now she is working on a few songs for tonight.” Mrs. Simmons looked over her resume papers once more. “Speaking of instruments, it says that you know how to play the saxophone better than Dave Koz.”
For once Isabella cheeks flushed more from embarrassment than that stupid eight letter word. “I-I really wanted my first job and thought that would impress him.”
“Well open mic also is for our servers as well so if you wanna bring your saxophone in one day I am sure we would love to hear you play.” Mrs. Simmons put her hands up before adding. “I am sorry, I keep speaking as if you already agreed to work with us. I know I get a bit overzealous at times when it comes to my interviews.”
“N-No ma’am you are fine.” Isabella took a deep breath and slowly began to build the mask that had shattered back around her face. “It sounds amazing, like a true dream of a job. Especially for someone that is looking for a new beginning like myself.” Her eyes began to gaze around this beautiful space. “And I can almost picture myself working here, but can I ask one more question?”
“Let me guess,” the older woman said with a smile. “You wanna know how bad these spankings might be.”
“How did you know?”
“Child I am 46 years old” It seemed her info page was a bit off in years. “I have seen enough girls come in and out of that door in the last ten years to know that is what you are thinking. I can see it in your eyes, even if your poker face is pretty good.” Mrs. Simmons folded her hands together. “Look I cannot speak on Mrs. Carter or Mr. Bradley’s styles, I can tell you as the mother of two boys and a girl. I know what someone might need if they choose to act like a little kid here. I am firm but fair, I don’t step places I should not step. Again we may use that as a punishment but we are not monsters, no one is gonna get more sensual if that is what you are worried about. I am too old and married for that shit, I view all of my workers as members of my family, as daughters. Sometimes my daughters need a slap on the butt and others might need a pat, I know the difference.”
“And is it-” Isabella took another breath for adding quietly as a mouse. “Is it over pants, panties and bare backside?”
“Depends on what you did in my case.”
Isabella nodded her head once more. Trying to contain that static feeling in her chest and heart was very hard. Maybe, just maybe, this place would help her get over her sins of the past as well. “One more question.”
“Yes honey,”
“When can I start?”
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Isabella let out one last long moan and shuddered like she was breaking a part before finally collapsed down onto her bed. Her arm went limp dropping a certain toy from a box she had no plans on opening anytime soon back into it. A content little smile formed across her lips as she relaxed in the bliss of what had been a truly good 20 or so minutes. As soon as she got home, she couldn’t get to her closet fast enough. Out came that box and she didn’t even bother looking through it she just took the entire thing and collapsed onto her bed. Her blue skirt was thrown in a heap on the floor beside her discorded panties. As she closed her eyes and went to work with her newest, and favorite, of all her more adult toys. It had been a long day so far from unpacking, going to her interview, getting a new job and getting all of her information set up. It was going on 8 in the evening but she had more than enough energy to truly pleasure her wet pussy.
She had gotten a job, a job that actually used corporal punishment as a way to keep their servers in line. Just the thought of it had made the ride on the streetcar almost unbearable.
Once she had finally calmed down from that slight high like feeling. She picked herself off her bed, throwing a messy towel she had kept underneath her for this into her dirty clothes hamper. She took off her wrinkled blouse and tossed that in alongside her navy blue panties and skirt. Making a small note to probably wash downstairs in the basement of this apartment tomorrow morning. Once she was as bare as the day she was born she walked into her bathroom for a much needed shower. Wishing that her apartment had come with a bath and shower instead of just a shower. The warm water felt amazing on her tired shoulders, and her slightly cramped legs from being most bent over on her front for so long. Her long red hair lost its almost natural curls and rested on her back like a bed of seaweed on the seafloor. Her favorite citrus body soap filled her nose with a feeling of peace, the small minerals that came in this soap making her feel at ease.
Once she had finished her after pleasure shower as she called it. She changed into a small pair of pajama shorts, a clean pair of plain white panties and bra as well as a tank top, one of the straps not wanting to stay in place and hung weakly off her shoulder. Her towel wrapped around her head doing its best to fight off the remaining water that always built up in her hair. As she plopped down on her couch to see if maybe her television had finally agreed to connect to the internet of this apartment. She noticed that her phone was ringing, so she grabbed her new i-phone. (Her old one having a large spider web like crack running down the left side of it after her momma had gotten a hold of it.) and the name that was being displayed brought a new joy to her heart.
She quickly pressed it up to her before saying. “What do you want, Emilia?”
Her younger sister's voice was a bit higher than her own but held a seriousness to it that she could never really pull off herself. “I am just checking to see if you got down there safely and are all moved in. You know me and dad would have ridden down with you if you weren’t so stubborn on doing this on your own.”
Isabella sighed as she took off the towel from her head, and tossed it onto the dark brown coffee table she had and curled up on the couch with her legs underneath her. “I-I know but it’s like momma say, this was my fault so I have to go down here myself.”
“Momma is overreacting.”
“I lied to her and daddy for nearly five years. I think it is more than deserved, in a cruel kinda way.”
Her sister sighed over the phone. “You did lie but that doesn’t give her a right to what she did, slapping you silly, throwing out the clothes and jewelry you brought back home, your phone.”
“I earned this, Emilia.”
There was a silence that came over her phone before her sister spoke again. A softer tone than she was used to hearing from her baby sister. “I miss being near you, and I wish things were much different.”
“I-I know,” Isabella began to twist a single lock of her dark red hair around her finger. “I am just here for a few years, and maybe I will come back once momma is not as mad anymore.”
“So I am never gonna see you again.” Her sister joked, making her laugh just a tiny bit. Her mother’s fury seemed like it could last years on end if she really tried. “How was your first day in New Orleans?”
“It is far more warmer and cheerful here than any summer in Green Bay.” Isabella admitted. “I already have a job, and I start Monday.”
“How did you get a job so quickly?”
“One of the places I sent my application wanted to set up an interview and I wanted to go and see the city. I have killed two birds with one stone so far.”
“Impressive, where are you working?”
Isabella bites the back of her lip trying to contemplate how to tell her sister about her job without letting something else slip. “I am working at a popular nightclub and bar called the Crimson Hide.”
“You mean Crimson Tide right?”
“No… it is called the Crimson Hide.”
“Did the owner misspell the name or something?”
Isabella felt a bit of heat come back to her cheeks as she thought about how the name of the bar made way more sence after her interview. “No, maybe he named it to draw people in or something. It seems to be working, from what I looked up it is the most popular nightclub downtown. If I work hard, I think I could maybe make lead girl or even floor manager in a few months. One of the main managers was impressed with my work effort at least.”
“Anyone would be,” her sister responded, Isabella could just imagine the smile that was on her round face. “You always have had a good work effort so try not to forget that and keep beating yourself up.”
“It’s hard not to.”
“And you will never start if you don’t try.”
“Easy for you to say you aren’t all the way in a different state because of what you did.”
“Dad offered to help you move to Milwaukee so you are closer, you specially choose New Orleans.” Her sister had her there. “Look at you as quiet as a mouse now, cause you know I am right.” Isabella pouted as she imagined the smirk that was probably on her little sister’s face.
“Shut up,” Isabella snapped, but was unable to keep the playfulness out of her voice. If she was back home she probably would have been wrestling with her sister right now, until their momma told them to stop before they broke something. There little matches had already claimed, two tvs, three vases and one window. (Isabella still bad for throwing that heel at her sister when she was 19 and she was 16.) She was gonna miss those times for now, her cozy apartment feeling a bit more empty now that she was thinking about it.
“What are you gonna do tomorrow?”
Isabella shrugged for a second. “Probably explore as much of the city as I can, I like riding the streetcars here so I might leave my car behind.”
“Try and have fun, Izzy.”
She couldn’t help but smile at that old nickname her sister gave her. When she was four years old, saying Isabella seemed like such a challenge for her, formally, cute little sister. Izzy or sissy was so much easier. “I will try my best, Emilia.” Once she and sister had hung up on each other. Isabella walked over to her mostly empty fridge making another note to go and get more food tomorrow. Maybe that would be her adventure for the day, seeing what New Orelean’s walmarts were like. She wrapped her long fingers around a half empty vodka bottle and pulled it out. She took off the top and took three long sips of the horrible tasting pineapple flavor liquor. It was the cheapest one she had picked up from a gas station on the way here.
She took a seat on a high stool that had also been left for her by the other owners and rested her head against her hand. Each deep breath she took seemed to speed up the process of getting drunk, her finger drumming on the counter like she was a skilled pianist. She was all the way in New Orleans, and found a job that if she misbehaved she would get her round rump spanked. As her vision started to spin a tiny bit and the heat of that drink made her feel so much hotter than before. She couldn’t help but laugh at what seemed so foolish right now. “Of all the places to work, why there Izzy?” That was the last truly sober thought she had before she took one more long sip of this vodka and stumbled her way over to the couch.
It was time to go to sleep.
Drinking was always a good way to go to sleep when she was too stressed to try to fall asleep naturally. As she collapsed onto the couch, her air conditioner humming and mostly watching a slow roll of ads for new series and movies that came from the loading screen of Netflixs. She let that darkness take over her and she slipped unconscious.
Isabella had many problems, and part of her hated was how recently her drinking had become a new problem. The only way to fight fire was with fire sometimes. So to pass out from drinking was easier than falling asleep with stress on her mind. Otherwise her fears of being caught, the stress of failing and questioning if her life was gonna be working mostly in bars, restaurants and clubs was gonna be her way of life from now until the day she died. Might truly consume her, and she never wanted to face that in her life.
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A’N: Thank you all for reading and I don’t really have much to say here for the most part. Everything I could say is already in the first chapter so I leave it here for now.
Until Next Time.
Stay Safe,
Stay Behaved,
Or you might be spanked.
Bye Bye.
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