This story isn’t by me! It’s by my good friend, Haley Brimley. Haley is one of the first spanking story authors I found back in the day and he used to host his own story website and forum called “Down in The Den” – he was also sporadically active on the old SSS Usenet group. Haley and I have been friends for…like, literally a million years, and I recently asked if I could archive my favorite story series of his, on my blog. He is primarily known for his “Haley + Christy” series, but On The Set was my first ever fanfic and Snape fanfic is pretty much the only stuff I enjoy now – see my kink resources to links to two Snape/Harry ones on AO3 that I love. However…this is *actually* an Alan Rickman & Emma Watson HP based fanfic. It was written with Tia O’Connell, who he hasn’t heard from in many years. I will include his own authors note, as well. If you like the story, you can leave a comment here for him, or shoot him an email.
“This story does not necessarily represent the authors’ point of view about anything. It is simply a work of fiction. The characters herein portrayed are invented and do not resemble reality to the best of the authors’ knowledge. This account is entirely fictitious. Any similarities to other persons, living or deceased, is purely coincidental. This story is written for the sane amusement of adult readers. It does not intend harm and does not promote violence of any kind, including spanking. No offence is meant to any group, ethnicity or individuals. No offense in particular to the persons of Alan Rickman, Emma Watson, and all other “real” people herein depicted! The authors do not endorse the non-consensual disciplinary spanking of actual children and/or teenagers.”
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On The Set, Chapter 1 – The Emma Emergency
It had been a long day of filming this particular scene for the newest Harry Potter movie over and over again, and the only reason it was having to be re-done so many times was Miss Emma Watson. If it wasn’t snapping her fingers and yelling for a soda, she was trying to correct other actors, ad-libbing her lines, and finally just dissolving in giggles.
The director, the Mexican-born Alfonso Cuàron, pulled her aside for the fourth time that day and gave her a royal chewing-out, which Emma completely blew off. Her rather pretty face was marred with a deadly scowl which she aimed right at the director, her eyes blazing with temper.
“Look, I am HERMIONE! There is no movie without me! So work with me, or I’m out of here!” She then turned on her heel and began to storm away, looking like a small child about to throw a full blown tantrum.
If there was one thing Alan Rickman, alias Severus Snape, absolutely didn’t fancy about working in the Harry Potter franchise was to put up with such childish behaviour from the kid actors. Had he known he would have to spend a whole day on a simple, almost elementary scene which only required a hour, due to this Miss Emma-Someone, he would’ve signed off his contract in a flash!
So, as the young actress stormed her way off the set, Alan shook his head and turned to Cuàron, who was waving his arms like: what am I going to do?? “Not even my kids act that bad!” Alfonso commented. “They learn quick with a good pop on the behind. Too bad I can’t do that to her, I’d get sued up the ass big time!”
Upon hearing Alfonso’s remark, Mr. Rickman raised an eyebrow, walked towards him and took him aside.
“You may have such restrictions and choose to abide them,” he said, sounding *much* more like Severus Snape than like himself. “But give me half an hour and you’ll see how Greta Garbo, there, turns into a well-behaved kid actress.”
Alfonso quirked an eyebrow. “Hey, you want to try your luck with the teen-princess from hell, go right ahead! More power to you Alan, and if you do, I’ll buy you the best dinner around!” He didn’t think that whatever Alan Rickman had in mind would work, and he certainly didn’t think that the distinguished actor would really raise a hand to a child, no matter how frustrating that child was!
Mr. Rickman smiled a little smile which curved his lips upwards, then bowed slightly at the ‘best dinner around’ offer and walked away. His set costume still on– the Snape black robes and mantel waving behind him– he walked out of the set towards the trailers.
It wasn’t hard to know where Ms. Emma “Princess” Watson was, as she and the other kids often took refuge in the ‘playing room’ trailer… And there she was, ordering a soda or something at the bar with a totally disrespectful tone. “It is time to set a couple of things straight”, he thought.
“Watson!” he addressed her, again sounding like the frustrated Defense-Against-the-Dark-Arts-wannabe teacher that he was. “Come with me.”
Emma turned to him with a frown. “Last time I checked, YOU don’t sign my paycheck, so you can go screw yourself, I’m trying to enjoy a Coke here. And it’s pretty sad if you chose to walk around in your Snape costume out of set. You DO realize it’s just a book right?”
Her tone was dripping with sarcasm, her pretty eyes narrowed, trying to glare him down while still in her own set costume– jeans and a pink pull-over sweater.
His nostrils almost smoking with rage, Mr. Rickman grabbed the hem of Emma’s sweater and ushered off the table, pulling hard enough to make the small teenager do as he wanted but not enough to put up a big show in the little-crowded cafeteria. He jerked at her pull-over and said: “You are very lucky I don’t sign your paycheck, young lady, or you’d be out here before you could say ‘Alohomora’!”
Emma gulped. “Release me or… I’ll… I’ll… call my lawyer!” She nodded her head. “Yeah, I’ll call my lawyer, have you sued, you’ll never work again, dirty old man!” She tried to sound brave, but was rather failing and squirmed in his grip to be released from his iron-like hold.
Mr. Rickman was slightly taken aback at the vehemence in the young girl’s tone, but quickly recovered and said: “Sure, you go call your lawyer, and I’ll call mine,” he said, pushing her out of the play room and towards her own trailer. “Need I remind you that you are *thirteen* and your word hardly counts anything??”
Emma slapped at him. “Don’t you push me! You let me go this instant or I’ll scream for help and I mean it! Don’t start acting like that idiot Snape, you’d look awful in a dress for real!” Emma was startled even by her own words. Why in the world had she said that? She could tell by the look on his face that he was completely and utterly un-amused. A tiny little whimper escaped her lips.
He just couldn’t believe the amount of trash that was coming out of this kid’s mouth. In his days, kids, and especially girls, were raised oh-so-very differently! And here she was, thinking she was queen of the world or something. That *definitely* needed a little adjustment. Upon hearing the very offensive remark about his dress, he answered like the true gentleman that he was:
“At least *I* am keeping on all my clothes for the next half a hour, Miss Watson”, he hissed. And with that he pushed her into her own trailer, and closed the door behind him.
Emma’s eyes opened very wide and she let out a scream. “Noooo don’t rape me!” she shrieked. “Not YOU, you can’t be my first, oh my god!” she wailed, flailing around. She looked rather panicked and frightened.
Mr. Rickman widened his eyes and his face took on a shape of utter disgust: “What… wh… what in the world is on your mind, little girl?? I’m going to do what your parents should’ve been done a long time ago, and that’s a sound, bare-bottom spanking right over my lap!” he thundered.
Emma stilled for a moment. “Huh?” she asked, thoroughly confused. Then it dawned on her. “No way! You are SO not taking off MY clothes and touching MY arse!” She tried to slap him across the face. “You are sick!”
When she started slapping at him, he took her small hands — she wasn’t much taller than five feet anyway, and quite of a slender frame — and restrained her.
“Emma Charlotte Duerre Watson, you quit resisting me right now! I’m having the immense delicacy to be doing this in the private of your trailer, but if you don’t cut it off I’m going to take you back to the set and we’ll settle the matter there in front of Daniel and Tom and Rupert and everyone else!”
She let out a scream, then bit his arm that was holding her tightly, and bit it hard! She hoped she drew blood, but she could not taste any. She also aimed a kick to his groin; she very narrowly missed.
“Arrghhh!” he screamed as she bit him! There’s really no hope to have this kid co-operate, is there?, Rickman thought to himself. “Well, then, I’m going to have to do this the old fashioned way!” And with that, and after dodging her kick, he pulled hard on her hands, sat down on the couch and very roughly draped her body across his lap.
“Nooooooooo!” Emma screamed, kicking and squirming. Her hands went back to cover her rather small, jeans-clad bottom. “You can’t do this!”
By now a small crowd had drawn outside the trailer, with Tom and Rupert listening closely.
“Should we break it up?” Rupert asked.
“Nah,” Tom said, using the now famous Malfoy smirk. “She needs it. I’m just pissed that *I* wasn’t the one to think of it!”
With the resolute attitude of an experienced spanker — an uncle, and… oh well — Mr. Rickman reached under the squirming and bucking Emma’s waist and unsnapped and unzipped her jeans in one quick motion. He could vaguely hear something rustling outside of the van, but could not care less: all he cared for was Emma’s jeans going down her slim thighs, revealing a pair of totally posh DKNY underwear.
“Watch me!” he said.
“No, please, Alan don’t please!” Emma begged, sounding frightened, the thought never crossing her mind that her pleas just might be music to his ears, for her to realize that was not the one running *this* show! “This is crazy, oh my god! You can’t do this please!”
Alan smirked. “To use an expression dear to you teenagers… I am SO going to do it, young lady! And this better teach you to show some respect for other people’s work!”
And after saying this, he restrained the child’s hands behind her back and raised his hand, then brought it down fast on Emma’s panty-clad backside with a loud SMACK! that echoed throughout the trailer!…. And maybe not only there….
“OWWWWWWW!” Emma wailed, renewing her kicks and squirms. “Ok, I get it, let me go!”
Outside, Tom and Rupert heard the smack, followed by Emma’s wail and smirked at each other, wishing more then anything they were in the trailer!!
“You are… SPANK! … very right on that… SMACK! … You are indeed… SPANK! … getting it!” SPANK SMACK WHACK SPANK
Mr. Rickman kept on spanking, wishing to teach the bratty teenager a ‘sound’ lesson… the fact that the trailer door was actually not totally closed didn’t come to his mind, at the moment.
Emma kicked and screamed at the top of her lungs: “It HURTS! Stop it please! I understand, I promise, I swear! I’ll PAY you, just stop!” she begged, her petite legs kicking wildly. She tried desperately to do everything she could think of to stop the onslaught of sharp, stinging spanks.
Tom and Rupert were trying hard not to burst out laughing as they heard Emma begging, and what could only truly be the beginning of a good spanking! Tom suddenly stopped and nudged Rupert, pointing to the door. It was open, just a wee bit! They high-fived and cracked it open a slight bit more and poked their heads in to watch the show, biting their lips to keep from laughing hysterically.
SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK Mr. Rickman was completely unmoved by young Emma’s wails and protests, and all he cared for was to apply more and more brisk spanks to her prominent backside… but he couldn’t help but laugh out at the paying proposal: “Pay me?? Oh you are indeed paying already, my dear!” SPANK SPANK SPANK
“Oww! Ouch! Owwwy!” she shouted. Tears stung her eyes, but she would NOT give in a cry for him! “Please, god, please, stop Alan, please please!” Whimpers were mixing with her begging as her bottom cheeks jerked and bounced under the heavy-handed spanks.
Mr. Rickman kept up the spanks at a steady pace, but suddenly stopped.
“First of all, you are going to address me as Mr. Rickman… I’m not one of your random dates!” SPANK “And then, I don’t think this is having much of an effect, is it?” And with that, he hooked his fingers in the waistband of her panties and pulled them down quick.
Outside, Tom and Rupert could barely contain their joy! Seeing bossy, know-it-all Emma Watson with her bottom bared was nothing they could ever buy with their MasterCard…… absolutely priceless!
Emma gasped and then screamed, her face flushing bright red, as her cheeks that blushed pink were exposed to him and the unseen boys watching with glee. “It IS having an effect, I promise!” she screeched. “Please Mr. Rickman, please, stop!” A few tears leaked silently and trailed down her face.
After removing her panties, he saw a quite nice shade of light pink colouring her nether cheeks, but he was right: despite Emma’s wails, that was not having the desired effect. So he raised his hand again, and again began to spank, much harder than before, a loud SLAP! every time his hard palm made contact with the tender flesh.
“Aaaaaaaa! Eeeeeeee! Nooooooo!” she wailed, starting to cry rather loudly. “Please, I’ll be goooooood!”
The boys watched with deep interest as she kicked and begged and promised, wishing they were the ones spanking her and putting her in her place.
“You’re darn right you will!” SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK He kept on and on, sometimes alternating cheeks, also concentrating some of the smacks at the start of her thighs.
Emma’s kicks slowed the redder her bottom cheeks became, but her wails only increased, mingled with tears. “Please!” <sob> “I sorry!” <sob sob> “No mooore!” <soooooooob>
… and still Mr. Rickman kept going, releasing some of his frustration on the kid’s reddening behind. He planned to stop as soon as she would go limp over his lap and *really* beg for some forgiveness.
… SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK…
She continued to bawl and squirm, and her bottom began to practically glow, and she could feel the fire burning hot as anything. Finally she ran out of energy and just laid across his knees and cried and hiccuped, her only movement the bouncing of one of her bottom cheeks as his hand impacted, which sent the naughty cheek jiggling madly.
After more than two minutes of continuous, hard and fast-paced spanking, Mr. Rickman decided that Emma had finally had enough: her bottom cheeks were coloured of a dark shade of pink, tending to red, and she seemed genuinely sorry. Maybe this would really put her back in place, after all.
With a final, stinging SSMMACKK!! he released his grip on Ms. Emma Watson. Emma didn’t even try to get up, she just laid across his knees still, bawling hard, nearly gasping for breath. One hand went back to try and rub, which elicited a shriek, and the hand hurried away to join its mate as Emma buried her face in her hands, resting her head on Alan’s leg.
“Ow,” Rupert whispered to Tom. Tom nodded his agreement. As much fun as it had been to watch, he wished Emma all the luck in the world the next time she tried to sit!
Mr. Rickman couldn’t help but notice just how hard she was crying… it was obvious this child had never been spanked before… perhaps he should’ve gone a tad easier on her… or perhaps not: the more shocking this experience was to her, the more likely there would have been no need to repeat it in the future.
“Are you going to behave, Emma?” he said, calling her with her first name.
She felt like a very small child, and felt very lonely at the same time, and took a small comfort in his using her first name and not objecting to her resting her head upon his leg. She nodded. “Uh <hiccup> huh <gasp, sob>“
Emma could somehow feel a change as she laid there crying. She felt…. comfort? Kindness? Caring? Compassion?? All these emotions flitted through her and confused her. How could being in this awesome pain make her…. actually…. feel…. loved? And…. and…. cared for?
“That’s good,” Alan said, rubbing her back in slow circles through her sweater. “Because any more nonsense, or attitude, will land you here across my lap again, is that clear, missy?”
Emma quickly nodded again, and wasn’t aware that he noticed her gasping sobs beginning to slow as he rubbed her back. “I’m <sob, hiccup> sorry!”
“Very good. I really hope you learnt your lesson.”
Mr. Rickman, now feeling a pang of guilt himself — but still totally convinced he’d done the right thing — took Emma’s arms and pulled gently but firmly, with the intent to help her to her feet.
Instead of landing on her feet, she landed in his arms, crying the last of her tears into his shoulder. She felt so stupid and mean that she had behaved the way she had, and more then anything at this very moment, other then wishing Harry Potter was real and could heal her bottom— she wanted a hug, to be held. Her face found the crook of his neck and inserted itself there, her tears dripping onto his costume as she slowly began to calm down.
Alan was quite taken aback at this sudden hug he was getting from this kid. No longer than ten minutes before she was throwing all sorts of insults at him, and now this. Still, he could not help but hug her back, and hold her close as she cried her little heart out on his costume — probably ruining it, which meant another hour in the wardrobe, but it was well worth it. He resumed rubbing her back and comforted her, understanding that perhaps the child was feeling also loved and not just hurt.
“There there… it’s alright… just don’t make me do it again”, he said, still sounding quite grumpy in his voice anyway.
“I’m really sorry Mr. Rickman, I won’t make fun of you again,” she whispered, her head hanging in shame. “And… and… thank you for not raping me.” She was completely serious, but it made Rupert and Tom roll their eyes and make quiet gagging noises.
After hearing that, he broke the hug and tried to look at her straight in the eye. “Now… how could you *really* think I could ever do that?… I’m not Snape, Emma”.
Emma gulped, and whimpered, as she looked him in the eyes. “I… I know. But, what else was I supposed to think?” she asked honestly. “You’re a guy, I’m a girl, you dragged me in here and said I would be without my clothes….” her voice trailed off and she ducked her head again, looking at her hands.
“I see. Well, I guess I might’ve just said I was going to spank you, I don’t blame you for thinking otherwise. And I hope you’re not feeling too resentful now,” Alan said, softening his tone a bit, his mighty anger fading as Emma looked — for the first time since he met her — like a girl of her age.
Emma shook her head no, but didn’t look up. “Are… are you going to hurt me again if I rub some lotion on my arse later on?” she asked very seriously.
The boys gagged at the mushy stuff and ducked out of the trailer quietly. They’d always have this memory— and Tom for one was thinking of making his own someday!
He shook his head no, likewise. “I’d help you rub some lotion myself, but now, *that* wouldn’t be quite appropriate, would it?”
“You would?” she asked, surprised. “Wow, you’re not mad anymore?” she hugged him tight, then blushed. “I *hate* getting the silent treatment, that’s what my parents always do. Well, I don’t think you *are* gonna rape me anymore, so if you didn’t mind helping, it might be nice, but then we probably have to get back.”
Alan gulped at her words… wondering whether Emma trusted her parents, a divorced couple, at all. “Umm yes I can do it,” he said, sounding less convincing than he felt. “And I’m not mad, and I’m not going to do *anything* but rub some lotion to help your bum recover. I guess you have some here, so, go get it”.
Emma raised her panties and howled, then shuffled into the bathroom and grabbed a vanilla scented lotion and handed it to him, then eased herself back over his knees.
Alan watched Emma as she waddled like a penguin — to say ‘walk’ would be an overstatement — to the bathroom and then back, and once she had plopped herself back over his lap, he proceeded to lower her fancy undergarments once again. He opened the bottle and poured generous amounts of lotion on his hands, then started applying it to the girl’s rounded and *red* bottom.
She whimpered at first at the touch, then quieted as the lotion began to take effect. “Can… can we be friends?” she asked hesitantly. “You’re really not so bad,” she admitted. “And I like you better then my parents!” she half blurted out. “Er… yeah.”
He inhaled deeply at what she said, knowing full well how a little girl tends to grow emotionally attached to an authority figure… but after all, what was wrong with that?
“Oh I am sure your parents are really nice people,” he said, still massaging her bum cheeks profusely, “but thank you… and, umm…” he found it hard to say it. “yeah we can be friends… I guess…” He coughed.
Emma gave a little giggle, which was actually a rather cute laugh, as he helped her up, smiling brightly at him after she adjusted her clothes. “Well, if you don’t want to I understand,” she told him honestly. “But whatever.” she walked towards the door, groaning as she realized it was open slightly.
Alan smiled. “I really want to, yes… but, Emma: do you realise that this means I’m going to have a say about the way you behave on the set? Is that clear enough to you?” he said as he followed her out of the trailer and into the cool morning.
“Huh? What? Like… like… a guardian away from home?” she tried to grasp the concept.
He shrugged, and circled her shoulders with an arm. “Yes, I think you can say so. It seemed to me like you can need one, from time to time.”
The young girl nodded slowly. “It would be nice… but I really don’t want another spanking,” she added in a whisper. “And do I still have to call you Mr. Rickman, even though we are friends?” she looked up at him, waiting for his answer.
Again he smiled a bit as he said: “Then don’t behave like that again, yes, it’s really that simple. And no… hmm…” he hesitated. “I guess you can call me Alan…”
“OK, thanks.”
They walked onto the set and Alfonso Cuàron nearly fell out of his chair at the sight of Emma with Alan’s arm around her shoulders.
“Whoa whoa… this is quite a change in, what, twenty minutes?” the director said as he stood up and approached the two. “Dare I ask what brought it on?”.
Alan smiled and patted Emma’s shoulder: “We got to the bottom of things, didn’t we, Miss Watson?”
Emma’s face blushed and she nodded, looking at her feet. Rupert and Tom snickered from off to the side. Alan nodded with Emma, but upon hearing some snickering behind him, he turned around and faced two very red-faced, almost laughing young boys. He cast Tom and Rupert an algid look, making the best of Snape impressions he had ever done in years.
“Anyhing you want to add, you two?”
“Uh, er, like, no….” Rupert answered. Tom nodded along with him.
“I see… because I thought I heard some, shall we say, sign of amusement from the two of you?” he said, letting go of Emma and towering over them.
The boys’ eyes widened and they took a step back. “No…”
“Nope, not a bit Mr. Rickman” they squeaked.
He nodded. “Very good. Then I must have been wrong…” he said, his voice trailing off as he turned to Emma once again, and winked at her out of the corner of his eye.
She winked back, then returned to looking at her feet. She wasn’t quite sure what Alan expected of her now and she felt rather uncomfortable.
Mr. Rickman cleared his throat, more out of a gentlemanly habit than real need, then addressed Cuàron and said: “So? Shall we resume our schedule for the day? There’s a boggart Ms. Granger, here, needs to banish.” Then whispered in Emma’s ear: “Just be good, respectful, and there’s not going to be any trouble”.
Emma nodded and whispered a rather meek. “Yes sir.”
“Wait a minute, I would like an apology first,” Alfonso said, still rather shocked.
Emma scowled while looking at her feet.
“Hmm, I think you are right…” said Mr. Rickman. “Were you saying something, Emma?” Alan turned to her with a rather firm voice.
Emma gulped. “I’m, er, sorry,” she said softly.
Mr. Rickman rolled his eyes and thought she could do much better than that, like a more convinced ‘I am sorry, sir’… but decided not to push it, for that day, and let it go at that. “That’s more like it,” he said.
“Good,” said Alfonso, nodding, but then shaking his head: kids today never change, do they?
Everyone once again resumed their positions, and this time the scene was captured without a hitch.
