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Like most young actresses who come to New York seeking fame and fortune on the Great White Way, Leslie was forced to take a variety of jobs to keep a roof over her head. Walking dogs, babysitting, and of course, waitressing, in between acting lessons and making the rounds at casting calls.
Leslie was incredibly beautiful, a stunner really, but not glamorous in the traditional sense of the word. Perhaps a bit curvier than what was the current fashion, but with a sweet cherubic face a man would love to bring home to Mom and Dad for Sunday dinner. A cloud of long dark curls framing her face, deepset hazel eyes, creamy complexion. The face of a Botticelli angel atop the body of Marilyn Monroe...very devastating combination, to say the least!
Leslie's 30th birthday was rapidly approaching, and she was starting to feel her days as a Broadway gypsy were numbered. The new girls seemed to get younger and younger, and the competition was more intense than ever. She wondered if it was time to face the fact that stardom was not in her future, and to start readying herself for a more dependable line of work. A steady stream of men came and went in her life, some more serious than others, but she never even considered settling down with any one of them. Her career always came first, the men and the jobs she took to keep herself fed were a distant second.
On the day of her 30th birthday, Leslie slept late. It was a Friday, and the Soho cafe where she worked would be very busy tonight. She showered after lunch and dressed in the uniform provided by her employer. It consisted of a short circular black skirt, and a cropped white sweater top embroidered in black across the front with the logo of the cafe...."Fantasies." The dot over the "i" was a sequined red heart. Underneath, the beautiful waitresses wore lace-topped black stockings held up by garters, and when they bent forward to clear a table or pick up dropped silverware, the customers were often treated to a flash of bare thigh and the promise of a deliciously rounded bottom. Hey...it was great for tips!
Leslie looked over her shoulder in the mirror as she dressed and sighed...her bottom was more rounded than most, and the high heels she wore lifted it up prominently. The male customers at Fantasies sure seemed to love it though, as did the lovers she had had over the years. Leslie's bottom was not only unusually shapely and full, it was also exquisitely sensitive, and the lovers who lasted the longest with Leslie were the ones who gave her the best spankings. Oh yes...spanking was Leslie's favorite form of erotic foreplay.
She arrived at the bistro around 7, wondering as she did every night just what kind of fantasies she would be called upon to fulfill tonight. Oh...did I mention how the cafe got its name?
As most of the servers at Fantasies were would-be thespians, they provided the evening's entertainment in addition to serving food and drinks. Patrons would request a particular waiter or waitress to perform or interact in a way which depicted a desire or fantasy of the patron's choosing. Of course the improv often bordered on the sexual, and it was entirely up to the waiter or waitress to accept or decline the offer. However, this was Soho...and city life was expensive, and the lure of some really fabulous tips from the movers and shakers who frequented Fantasies was often enough to convince even the shyest waitress. Some discreet nudity was allowed, the exchange of bodily fluids was most emphatically NOT.
Leslie was more than a little depressed at turning 30 on what was looking to be just a regular workday for her. No significant other in her life right now, no one to wine and dine her, no birthday packages to unwrap. A call from Mom and Dad in Oregon that afternoon had lifted her spirits momentarily, even though she had lied to them about the "big break" that was just around the corner. The other servers, most of them a few years younger than Leslie, really loved her for her sweet disposition and usually sunny demeanor, and they conspired to cheer her up with a birthday cake tonight.
She made the rounds of her tables expertly, serving drinks and dinners, and she was so busy she was unaware of one particular patron, an attractive man of about 35 sitting alone, who was watching her very closely. His eyes swept up and down her body as she moved, lingering on her luscious posterior. When she leaned forward across one of the tables to lay down some drinks, her skirt hiked up and he caught a glimpse of her stocking tops. He had to resist the desire to reach over to put his hand on her rounded bottom.
Just then there was a drum roll and a parade of waitresses and waiters strode in bearing Leslie's birthday cake, glowing with candles. They sang Happy Birthday to her as she covered her face and blushed very prettily. The customers applauded and sang along, one of them staring at her exquisite face perhaps a bit more closely than the others. So her name was Leslie, he thought, as they sang it out loud.
The cake was brought back into the kitchen and the emcee took the stage, explaining the premise of "Fantasies." Most of the patrons were regulars here and knew the routine and began selecting their favorite server and describing their fantasy scenario. A lot of the improv sketches were funny, some bittersweet, some no more than reenactments of scenes from a particular musical. Leslie was rather relieved that no one seemed to be inclined to call on her tonight, and anyway, just the knowledge that it was her birthday had seemed to make her customers more generous than usual in their tips. A few of the skits were of the interactive sort...one male customer danced very suggestively with one of the waitresses, and maybe this was what emboldened Leslie's admirer to speak up.
He stood and looked directly at her. "Happy birthday, Leslie. I have a fantasy, young lady...I'd like to give you your birthday spanking."
Leslie's face burned as she stared into the stranger's eyes. All eyes were on her, wondering if she would dare accept his shocking proposition. Dammit though, he was attractive, and there was nothing leering about his expression. She sure loved a good spanking too, but in front of all these people? He smiled at her, eyes shining, eyebrows slightly raised, and held out his hand to her.
The performer in her...the exhibitionist...won out, and she took his hand to lead him to the stage. He towered over her, even in her 3" heels, and she couldn't resist a peek at his hand...long, broad and strong. The audience erupted in a chorus of good-natured cheers and whistles as they mounted the stage and the man sat in the sturdy wooden chair that had been provided by the emcee.
"By the way, Leslie, my name is Steven, and I am not usually this bold," he whispered. "But you have the most incredibly beautiful bottom I have ever seen, and when I heard it was your birthday, I just couldn't resist. But of course it is up to you...will it just be 30 love pats, or do you want a real spanking?"
Leslie was standing to his right, so the audience couldn't really see her smile or overhear her whispered reply. "Well, let's see, Steven...the best spankings start out as love pats, and then they build, don't you think?"
Steven grinned at her and took her hand to pull her down across his lap as the audience cheered. He lifted her short skirt with a flourish, exposing her stockings and black lace panties.
"Thirty spanks, Leslie, one for each year...and then one final swat for good measure."
He lifted his hand and began to spank her over her panties. The audience counted out the spanks as his hand rose and fell on her. The first fifteen or so were love pats, caresses almost, but soon Leslie began to squirm and almost unconsciously lifted her bottom up to him.
The roar of the audience preserved the privacy of their conversation. "What do you think, Leslie...a little harder?"
"Yes please" she panted, and her obvious excitement spurred him to give her a real spanking, bringing his hand down harder and harder on her panties. She really felt the next ten spanks, in addition to feeling something else...Steven's bulging erection prodding into her tummy. She parted her thighs slightly, and he spanked the bottom of her cheeks, noting the rosy color that was infusing her creamy skin, and the wetness forming between her legs. She purposely rubbed herself against his erection, dampening his pants, and he could actually smell her arousal.
"Birthday or not, that was very naughty, young lady. I think I should take your panties down for the last five spanks...what do you think, Leslie?"
"In front of all these people?"
"Not a proper spanking unless it's on the bare, Leslie. Well?"
"Oh what the hell, Steven, I've embarassed myself already...let's go for it!"
"Good girl," he said, hooking his fingers into the waist of her tiny panties and slowly drawing them down over her cheeks, gasping at the sight of her bare pink posterior. By now the audience was cheering and stamping their feet.
"Ready, Leslie?" He raised his hand and brought it down hard in a wide arc.
Leslie kicked and bucked frantically for the last five spanks, partly from the sting, and at least in part to put on a better show for her now adoring public!
She began to rise, but he wrapped his arm more tightly around her waist to hold her down.
"You are forgetting, Leslie, one more to grow on!"
She giggled and pushed herself meaningfully against his bulging cock. "Seems that YOU are the one doing the growing, Steven!"
"Oh that smart remark is going to get you a hard one, young lady," he replied, aiming the final, hardest spank right at the spot where her cheeks met her thighs, sending shock waves reverberating through her nether regions.
He leaned down to whisper in her ear, "If we were alone, young lady, I would soothe that lovely red bottom with lotion and kiss it all better...what time do you get off?"
"Well after midnight," she sadly replied.
"Well, as it is your birthday, and I am a very persuasive fellow, perhaps the manager can be convinced...leave it to me. That is...if you want to...?"
Steven was as good as his word. Several crisp bills of larger denomination exchanged hands, and the manager was duly persuaded. Leslie's 30th birthday turned out to be a memorable one indeed, dinner and dancing at one of New York's poshest clubs after Steven's limousine dropped her off at her apartment to change out of her silly little revealing Fantasies uniform into something just as revealing, but far more sophisticated. He followed up on his promise to soothe her stinging bottom at the end of the evening, after spanking it yet some more.
Leslie's days at Fantasies were numbered; Steven saw to that! It wasn't long before the would-be actress with the face of a Botticelli angel and the body that wouldn't quit found herself sitting demurely across the dinner table from Steven's parents in Greenwich one Sunday. They adored their future daughter- in-law, but the girl fidgeted so...as though she couldn't sit comfortably for long. Oh well, perhaps she was just nervous, she sure giggled a lot when they asked her about it.