As the last box had been unloaded into her new Apartment. Isabella Shields let out a sigh of relief, glad that all of her items had survived the long trip from Green Bay, Wisconsin, down to New Orlean, Louisiana. Isabella made her way over to the door both to thank the movers that had been so kind and gentle with her, as well as sign off the last of the paperwork she needed to. There was a different feeling to the air, one that breathed new life into her tired body, but also brought a new warmth that even the hottest summers in Green Bay could bring.
“T-Thank you,” she repeated for what might have been the tenth time that day. As the heavier set man that was built like an ox gave her a small smile, and a wave before moving towards the staircase that he and partner had gone up and down so much today. She mostly took the elevator with a large cart that held most of her glassware, while they did the heavy lifting in getting her small couch, bedframe, mattress and the television she had upstairs. She slowly closed her door and leaned up against it for a quick breath. Her hand coming to rest over her heart as she steady herself. “Okay, let’s get started.”
A cheerful and lovely hum filled the air as she took out her small bluetooth speaker and got it connected. She tossed it and her phone onto the couch, as softer jazz music starting to fill the air of her beautiful apartment. The last gift that her daddy was gonna give her, a gift that her momma thought she did not deserve. They had gotten her this apartment down in the heart of New Orleans so she could go, and try again with a new beginning. She had enough money both from three years of working in a small cafe in the city, as well as from her daddy, to afford two months of rent, her phone bills, and the other things that came from a single life. However, as her mom had said when she was leaving. “Don’t ask us for anything else!”
She deserved her mother’s rage cause she had no choice but to finally tell them why she was not gonna be walking the stage for college anytime soon. How she had kept it hidden that she had failed her first two years of college, and kept it hidden for another three years that she had not been in college as she could not get financial aid anymore. Two years of partying and not studying had finally caught up to her, and three years of lying had earned her mother’s rage. She could not hold onto her guilt anymore, and came clean. At first her parent’s and sister thought it was just a joke. How could someone who averaged a 3 '7 gpa in highschool fail her first two years? Her mother’s rage was nothing in comparison to the true disappointment in her father’s voice. “Why didn’t you just tell us sooner that you were having problems?”
All she could manage there before her mom slapped her into next week was simple. “I don’t know,” her excuse for nearly everything that went wrong for her.
As that memory filled her head, it brought a stop to her small dancing she was doing as she unpacked. The guilt, the shame, and feeling of just being a failure washed over her like a tidal wave. It was hard to move on if you still lived so far in the mistakes of your past. Isabella let out a long winded sigh as she collapsed onto her couch. Hoping that maybe it would just shallow her up so she didn’t have to keep thinking about what she did. “I really messed up,” she whispered to herself turning onto her side and staring at the blank television screen. Her former dream was to be a CSI or a Crime Scene Investigator to take after the steps of her grandfather. She had been amazed by the stories he would tell her of his adventures helping track down clues that later led to the murder weapons, and locations. If he could, she was sure that he would come down from Heaven and knock her head clear off her body for fooling around so much in college. More concerned with making more friends and partying rather than her studies. She was undisciplined once she escaped the nagging eyes of her parents.
Maybe that was what she needed more in her life?
Discipline.
Isabella forced herself back to a sitting position, and slapped both her hands on her cheeks to hype herself back up. “We have work to do.” She reminded herself as she stood up and went back to the series of boxes that now lined her soon to be living room floor. Her father did not get anything truly magnificent even though they could have afforded it. However, it was still a nice and cozy place. The bedroom was connected to the bathroom, the carpet was a soft cream color, a nice touch so now she couldn’t afford to spill even a drop of soda or wine on the floor. The kitchen was pretty large with wide counters and a single four topped stove, now that she was on her own she would finally have to learn how to cook. Maybe break out her grandmother’s old recipe book that she found in the basement. She was lucky that the last resident was kind enough to leave some of their kitchen decor behind so she didn’t need to buy more plates, cups, or forks, more knives but she would have an endless amount of spoons it seemed. She took time to put up the light blue shower curtains she had gotten half off at the store. Put all of her bath and body work supplies inside of the large shower counter. A tiny bit mad that she didn’t have a bath to go with her shower, but she was sure that would be fine.
As she was unpacking her things for her bedroom, which included all of her clothes, the jewelry she could find. Her momma had thrown most of them out as a sort of punishment for lying for so long. Most of them being gifts for the so-called “good grades” she had been supposedly getting for the three years she had been out of college. Her blankets being white with a pink flower print running up the left side of it. She struggled with that damn fitting sheet for so long that she decided to just throw it across the room, and sleep with the other sheet underneath her instead. Once she had started going through the other boxes she had, she opened one of them before quickly closing it in embarrassment.
Inside were a few devices that she had sneakily bought when she was 17 years old. Things that she was gonna use to pleasure herself in silence when she was taking a break from dating. She could only thank God above that no one at her house ever found this box in the back of her closet. Isabella had been so busy trying to get out of her house that she didn’t pay notice to what she was taking. That box would go back to being buried deep inside of her closet, to never be opened unless she was truly desperate for some kind of loving.
Once she was sure that it was in the back corner of her closet, pulling a few hanging clothes over that section to try to hide it more. Isabella returned to her much more lively looking room, the coffee table she had gotten being the perfect height to place a few boxes underneath that held her old manga collection. Her current collection in her room. Her television was on and already back on Hulu. Making a small mental note that she would have to go and sign up for an actual internet router as her apartment’s open internet was terribly slow. Two laptops resting on top of each other on the edge of the black table with a glass liner in the center.
She grabbed the smallest of the two of them and flipped it open to the tablet part of it before going to work. Well, not going to work per say, rather she was looking for work. She had lost her old hostess job when she moved, not having time to give them a proper two weeks notice and while her boss had been very supportive and even offered to let her stay at her place until she found a new place to call home. She knew that she had to leave, being anywhere in the city with her parents was a bad choice. Isabella looked over at a single picture that was sitting on the window mantle. Her momma and her standing on a beach last year. Her momma being an older but still very lovely woman with long reddish brown hair, short but curvy woman with dark cream colored skin. Isabella was a bit taller than her momma at 5’9, her hair being a dark red color and her skin matched her momma’s complextion. She was wearing a long red shirt that completely covered her very skimpy blue bikini that she had stupidly decided to wear. Her father had disappeared and returned 10 minutes later with two shirts, one for Isabella and one for her three year younger sister. Glaring daggers at any and all boys that tried to get a look at her.
Isabella stood up gripping that picture in her hands for a few moments. Even in that picture she could see the pain in her own eyes, a forced smile on her face as she tried to keep it together. “I-I’m sorry,” Isabella whispered as set the picture back down but had it face the window towards the bright sun. Those were the words she wanted to tell her momma before they left on very bad terms. Isabella didn’t want to go to college in the first place, she just wished she would have just said that instead of doing all the nonsense she did do. “I’ll make it up to you somehow.”
That started by opening her email, and seeing if anyone had responded to her job applications she had posted to everywhere and anywhere before she left Green Bay. And it seemed that God did have mercy on her as the first email she saw was from a job she very much wanted. It was downtown, one of the most popular nightclubs and bars in the city. A place that was called, The Crimson Hide. Its starting pay was 17.25 an hour, for a server that almost unheard of when it came to being paid that much money, and that was without tips. The email that had been sent to her was extremely proper but there was something in it that sent chills racing down her spine.
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Dear Ms. Isabella Shields.
I hope that this email finds you well, and we thank you for reaching out to us. After a very long look at your application, we feel that you would make a perfect new server, and hostess for The Crimson hide. I would like to invite you to the club for a more proper interview sometime this week. I hope to hear back from you sooner rather than later. However, I must inform you of a certain policy that has been upheld by our owner, and is enforced strictly. and nondiscriminatory upon all of the girls that call the Crimson Hide home. Upon any and all infractions of the rules, our owner believes in the use of more physical means in dealing with our staff. A use of corporal punishment can be, and will be, used for most infractions of our rules and policies. We inform those that apply for this job of this rule as soon as we can, having learned that some find it odd, and quickly leave to find a better fitting job. We understand if this is a turn off from the Crimson Hide Nightclub and Bar. However, if this is not too much on you, we would love to see you for an interview in the later days.
Sincerely yours.
Tatiana Simmons.
Contact information for further questions.
504-234-5902.
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Of all of the words that had been listed in that email. There were two word that stood out like a sore thumb, two words that were very much connected to another word that started with the letter S. Isabella felt her hand trembling slightly as she lifted it up to place over her mouth. Her dark brown eyes could not leave those words even if she wanted them to. Corporal Punishment only meant one thing to her, a more proper meaning to a punishment that she had on her mind for years. Corporal punishment was just another word for a spanking.
Isabella had an odd history with that word. It had long been a punishment in her home, being taken over her daddy’s knee for a warm bottom or bent over her momma's favorite seat on the couch and getting her fanny warmed with her wooden spoon was a common occurrence in her childhood. Mostly she got it for lying or even her old problems with stealing as a little girl, ranging candy to small toys. It used to be a punishment so common until she had turned 13 years old, and while she was being spanked over her daddy’s lap. Something happened that was both an important day in her life but also it was the most embarrassing day of her life. To make a long story short, she had experienced her first “big girl release” as her momma had put it, and she had never been spanked again after that.
At first she was horrible embarrassed and was more in tears after what happened than the pain from the spanking. Her momma had pulled her aside and explained that sometimes these things happened and that she was just becoming a young lady now. She had gotten over it but once her 22 year old sister had truly understood what exactly happened, she was on end of her sister’s teasing for far too long. However, that one day had also sent her down a large rabbit’s hole of trying to recreate that feeling. Whether it came from giving herself a spanking in private when she was alone, or having former boy friends, and one night stands try and do the deed. No one had truly been able to get her back to that very first feeling of true bliss she felt that day. However, she still very much loved the action, her sister once questioned if the reason she was on so many sports teams was because she liked the usual celebratory slap on the bum that came from good plays.
Isabella looked over the word again and again, wondering maybe it was just some kind of sick joke. A way to see if new hires would come and maybe the threat of being spanked was a way to keep them motivated at a job that paid very well. If her math had been correct in her head. 17.25 an hour per week, if she worked at least five shifts a week for a minimum of even five hours was 86 dollars a week, not including tips or more hours and overtime. That was about 431 dollars a month, also not including all of the tips from working at the most popular club and bar in the city.
Isabella looked over the email one time she typed in the name of the sender Tatiana Simmons into the search engine, and sure enough a portfolio came for the woman. She was in her older years but still held a beauty to her that came from an older age. Dark Brown skin and short golden brown hair, she was wearing tight black pants and a matching polo with the club's name on it. She had been the club’s general manager for 15 years, she has a master degree in business and was listed as 42 years old.
Honestly now that she was looking at the woman. Isabella could see her as one of those older models from some of the more “education adult spanking videos” as she called it. She had many different names for her interest, a way to justify and explain to her momma and papa when she had been caught looking at them. Which only led to another very awkward talk from her momma, and a parental lock being put on her laptop and tablet until she was 17 years old.
Isabella looked from this woman’s profile and back to the email she had been sent. Her eyes moved back and forth between the two open tabs so fast that she eventually had to sit back as her head started to spin. “This has to be a damn joke.” Isabella brought her knees up to hug against her chest as she peaked back at the email. “It would be a good start…” she thought to herself as she reached over to her phone but her hand stopped mid grab.
Was this okay?
She had come to New Oreleans to escape her sins from the past. However, would going to maybe work at a nightclub that seemed serious about spanking her backside if she failed at her task be a good idea? Especially from a girl that saw it as more of a pleasure than a punishment? “However, it would be a good start, more money and we could save the money that daddy gave me, and with the money in my savings account.” Isabella justified in her mind before she picked up the phone and shakily typed in those nine numbers. Holding the phone far from her ear as she waited to see if someone truly answered.
Yet on the fourth ring, right when she was losing hope, someone answered the phone. “Thank you for calling Crimson Hide, how might I help you this afternoon?” The voice was a lot younger than she had been expecting from an older looking woman. Her slight confusion was answered as this voice then added. “My name is Ameko Hoka. How might I help you?”
“H-Hi…” Isabella pressed the phone to her ear and tried to slow down her breathing. “Um… My name is Isabella Shields. I got a confirmation email from Ms. Simmons about possibly setting up a proper interview.”
“Oh wonderful!” Isabella moved her phone back a bit as that high pitched voice rang in her ears more than she expected. “What day and time were you thinking about for your interview?”
Isabella thought about the matter for a few moments. “Do you have any openings for today maybe?”
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Watching the city pass by her from this dark red streetcar was honestly the best idea she could have thought of for today. Everything seemed so much brighter, and warmer than it did in her hometown. This place held a life to it that could only be found in the city of New Oreleans, almost like at any time the people passing by would stop, and like some musical or disney movie break out into a song. Everyone dancing around somehow knowing all of the steps and choreography with ease. It was much warmer here than it would be for a late summer July in Green Bay. Girls moved around in short shorts and bikini tops, some wearing more flowy and loose skirts. A few good looking men moved around in shorts and shirts, some looking like they could throw her into the mighty Mississippi river with ease. A large beauty of dark blue waters that in some places looked like dark blue glass from where the sun shined on it. She was so entranced with its beauty that she nearly missed her stop.
Isabella quickly got off the street car giving a thank you to the driver, and a slight nod of apology for pulling on the rope nearly too late. Isabella looked down at her phone following the blue line over the map she had to her stop that was about three blocks down. Honestly it might have been better for her to miss this stop as she could have just kept going down with the streetcar. Isabella smoothed out her dark blue skirt and adjusted a few buttons on her blouse before making her way down the bright streets of the city. Her printed resume and a few more basic information on herself such as her social security number, her high school diploma and a few other items pressed against her chest. She slung her purse over her shoulder before making her way down the street. Blending into the busy crowds of people that were enjoying the day, not affected by the occasional bumps that came from being in this crowd. She had been to enough sold out Packer’s games that she knew how this worked. People going up the street would mostly hang to the far side of the sidewalk leaving the street side open to those going down the street.
Isabella came to a stop in front of a large set of double doors. A large sign hung over this lower entry way of this building. In large cursive letters that probably would glow like flames in the night when turned on. It was located on the ends of the block and seemed to stretch back a pretty good distance, the building being made of bright white stone that looked freshly painted or maybe polished. Two large arched windows stood on the front door, the glass tainted not giving her a good look on the inside. Four more windows of matching size and shape were on the second floor, maybe this was a two floor club and bar. Isabella took a deep breath before placing a hand on one of the double doors and opened it up.
Immediately a cold breeze like the Green Bay winds blew met her, giving a small taste of home almost. Another set of double doors were waiting for her in this long entryway. The lights inside of this otherwise dark place switching from white to dark gold every few seconds. Isabella heels clicked across the solid black floor as she walked. It had been a long time since she had to wear heels but was glad that at least her old one’s still fit her rather large feet. Them seemed to be echoing off the black walls of matching color. She finally pushed open the door that led to this club and her eyes glanced around in amazement.
It was a large, and beautiful space so far from what she was seeing. A large bar lined one of the walls of this floor, with rows of expensive looking liquor and two large coolers on either side. One holding what she could tell were different brands of beer and they had other bottles of drinks. This bar also had a great looking collection of draft beers, about 30 in total from what she could see. Two stairs cases lead up to the second floor where she could only imagine probably held more sitting areas, as a large dance floor was a bit further in the back. Tables and chairs lined this place like a silent army of soldiers, the floor looking very clean and almost sparkling in the low light of this building. Dark golden lights to be exact were currently on and sparkling on the dark brown wood of this bar. As she moved forward towards the bar to hopefully find a worker, she spotted tucked away behind two open doors was a sparkling white piano. A girl was sitting at it, maybe the same age as her sister back home, a pair of headphones over her ears as she jotted something down on some paper.
Standing behind the bar with a large clipboard was the same woman she had seen when she looked her up. She looked way stronger than she did in the picture from before, her hair the same style of curly golden brown locks. She sprayed down the top of the bar with a spray bottle before quickly wiping it down, a task she had probably done time and time again. She was wearing a dark green polo shirt and a matching pair of green pants that hugged her waist in all the right angles. She had aged like a bottle of perfect wine, and she couldn’t help but notice the ring on her finger. A large beautiful one with a large shining white diamond. “Umm… Ms.” Isabella stopped herself and corrected her honorifics. “Mrs. Simmons?”
The older African American woman looked up from her task and a warm motherly smile began to spread across her lips. “Isabella Shields I am guessing,” she had a southern tone to her voice that was as warm as milk and as sweet as honey. She leaned over the bar and offered her a small hand to shake. “My name is Tatiana Simmons, but you can call me Mama Tati if you want. Everyone here does.”
Isabella reached out to shake her hand, surprised by the grip that came from the old woman. “Yes, Mrs. Simmons, it is a pleasure to meet you.”
“The pleasure is mine,” the woman let go of her hand. “Can I get you anything to drink, honey? Soda, Water, maybe even something light?”
“Um water is fine,” Isabella answered as she took a seat on one of the high stools. Trying her hardest to keep her back straight and her shoulders relaxed. She was used to be able to put on a pretty good mask to hide her nervousness and her lies. However, after being caught in so many lies it was harder and harder to get that mask up and running at full power. “I am sorry if scheduling a meeting with me was a bit sudden.”
The woman shook her head as she slid a glass of water down to her letting it land in front of her with ease. Not a single drop spilling from the tall glass, not even the lime she had put inside had really moved. “If anything I appreciate you coming by so soon. Some people want to schedule so far after I send them that email that it makes it hard to get things ready. I like a young lady that is quick to respond and quick to be at an interview.” The woman dried her hands with a towel before sitting down across from her at the bar. She reached underneath where she was sitting and took out a clipboard. “Now just a bit of information for my own knowledge, your full name is Isabella Ruth Shields?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Do you have a copy of your id with you honey?” Isabella nodded her head before reaching into her small white purse and slid her ID over to the older woman. She took a quick glance over at it before giving back. “That ID of yours expires next December.” She noted as she wrote something down on her clipboard. “Can you tell me a bit about yourself, Isabella?”
“Y-Yes ma’am, I am from Green Bay, Wisconsin.” Isabella began as she clearly and carefully spoke about her life and experience so far. Anything that could possibly get her this job she mentioned. How she had a good work effort, the copies of referrals from her old employees proving that, specifically her last job. Her grade from high school, but she did tell one fib when the woman asked why she had moved all the way from Green Bay to New Orleans. “Well I wanted to move somewhere a bit warmer in weather, get a new outlook on life and something about this city drew me to it.”
“I see. Well, I am sure that New Orleans is a good place to get a new perspective on life. The people here are kind when they aren’t drunk out of their minds, the days are always warm and sunny for the most part. Might take a bit for you to get used to our summer storms, I am sure you will survive our colder days when it drops down to the 5oths and 4oths, but as a Wisconsin girl I am sure that sounds like warm weather to you.” She let out a small chuckle that Isabella couldn’t help but laugh at as well. “You did put here that you only have two years of college experience. Now what made a bright child like yourself take two years of schooling and drop out?”
For a brief moment that mask that she had been keeping up cracked like a small stone had been tossed against it. “W-Well,” Isabella began before she managed to repair that mask and sit up a bit straighter. She didn’t want to tell the woman that she had failed college and lied about it for three years afterwards. Instead she told the truth that she could never bring herself to tell her parents until her lies had been exposed. “To be honest, I didn’t want to go to college, my momma and papa thought that it was fitting as most of my family graduated with good grades and went off to do even better things in the world. I didn’t want that, I didn’t want to be in debt, I liked working and having a nice quiet life. I finally broke the news to them after my second year and there was a bit of a fight but everything is good between us. Who knows, maybe one day I will go back and get my degree.”
“I can’t blame you for that choice, college isn’t for everyone. I got lucky with a bunch of scholarships and aid from family and friends to send this poor girl to school.” She motioned her hand around this beautiful bar for a moment. “And the Lord Blessed me with this wonderful space, and a few really good partners.” A bit of guilt ran up her spine as telling a half truth hurt just a bit, this woman seemed so nice.
She was tired of her lies being connected to the truth.
“Do you have any questions for me, young lady?” Mrs. Simmons asked. “Perhaps on the pay, what exactly your duties might be if you want to work here, hours perhaps. You may want to reset your sleep schedule for the first week just to be on the safe side.”
Isabella opened her mouth to speak but she found her mouth was dry as rice as she brought her hands together to play with her thumbs. “I do have one question, Mrs. Simmons… Was that last part of the email actually true?”
This was the part where this old woman would burst into laughter and tell her it was all a lie right?
That she would tell her that part was just a joke to see if she was gonna actually come in, that maybe even someone had added that part to the email under her nose right?
However, the slight smirk that appeared on Mrs. Simmons' sharp featured face answered her question before she truly spoke it outloud. “That last part is not a typo or a joke, it is true. The girls here at the Crimson Hide Nightclub and Bar are punished a bit more firmly for their actions on the clock and even off the clock sometimes.”
Isabella suddenly put two and two together on why this place was called The Crimson Hide and not tide. “Dear God it is actually true…” Isabella thought as her cheeks took on a bright pink hue. “I might actually get spanked here.”
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A/N: Alright um this is something that I have held in my back pocket for a very long time now. ANd thought that now would be a good time to write it, a more spicy novel that I always wanted to publish for free but never got a chance to truly do, it’s hard to come out and write these stories and maybe one day if I can get more confidence I might actually pursue a job as a self published author that writes more naughty stories. I hope you enjoy this and don’t worry I am still gonna keep publishing Tales of A School Spanker. I would love tips (not money lol) and comments on grammar and spelling as I do struggle with that a bit, I will try and keep them to a minimum. And you can expect about three to four chapters a week of this every Saturday or Friday night from now on.
Until Next Time.
Stay Safe,
Stay Behaved,
Or you may be spanked.
Bye Bye.
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