Work at Underwood studios made Back-In-Gas almost respectable. In practice the difference wasn’t so extreme considering Ruth’s gas station had her locked in a bathstall for newcomers to fuck, something the bear hadn’t done for months now in favor of keeping the stink badger between her legs under the counter. Sometimes, not that Madison told anyone, she’d have preferred to be in the stall. Being a straight girl underneath a dyke’s legs wasn’t pleasant. 


In Underwood they had her tongue on overtime keeping girls wet between scenes. On her first day after Ruth dropped her off, hood on which made the walk inside awkward, Jorge explained that her mother’s workplace criteria made finding roles for her difficult. They had a schedule of productions in place already, none of which she could just jump into. That and new stars always had singular debuts. It wasn’t Hollywood, where actors worked up from backgrounds (or so they told the press). 


Until they had such a show they made her a heater. A cunt warmer in the same manner a fluffer was a cock warmer, tasked with keeping a star physically aroused between takes on set. Which, to her surprise, there were a lot of. Madison, practically living a porno, never watched porn herself. She didn’t consider how many times a scene switched angles or how seamlessness was made by careful editing. Movie magic she couldn’t appreciate between another woman’s legs. 


Other heaters and fluffers were given decency. Madison, or Lizzy Bean as she’d been introduced to everyone was the only one naked and forced into a black hood. Jorge kept her mouth shut with a panel gag that, if she wanted to, she could unlock. Madison kept it on as an excuse not to talk to anyone, removing it to drink and eat between takes. A small part of her said she needed to socialize, but it sounded too much like Ruth for her to obey willingly. Besides, the stars found her tongue too useful for anything beyond her job. 


“Fuck, take it slow,” the cat sat up from her seat, hand tight over Madison’s leather hood scalp. Begrudgingly Madison obeyed, easing her tonguework to fit the white pussy’s request of keeping her topped off. Her contract meant that Jorge had the authority to punish her if she intentionally finished someone off between sets. He could always tell whether it was an accident or on purpose, how Madison wasn’t sure. She contemplated it during the day she spent as a blindfolded urinal in the men’s room. Ruth found that report funny. 


Jorge quickly noted that Madison liked to rebel. He couldn’t have that, but instead of demanding she obey he would give her things to rebel against depending on how obstinate she was being. Extra restraints like a hobble chain or cuffs, a leash to keep her close to whomever needed her, and sometimes an upgrade to her hood like a blindfold or earplugs to keep her at the mercy of a handler. She felt more like an offstage prop than a star, but Madison didn’t like either of those options anyway. On the plus side, everything but the hood could come off with a request from her hand to do homework during sets. It wasn’t like Ruth, who let her struggle and then some. 


And if she didn’t have any then, depending on the bondage, she could be social. Darcy was nice. Like her the badger was straight and the two could spend hours rating terrible cunt’s they’ve had to lick. “I’d much rather they be licking mine to be honest,” she explained during a break where Madison was stuck keeping her warm. “I think that makes me a pillow princess. Is that a bad term?”


“Who cares?” Madison said. Darcy gave her enough leeway to speak while working.


“I guess no one, no one I care about anyway. Anyone ever told you you’re good at this? I know enough girls that actually like cunt who can’t hold a candle to you.”


“Being trained for it helps, I guess.”


Darcy feigned to wretch. “God, I cannot imagine it. Bet your mom smells awful under there. Doing that every day must be insane.”


“Smells worse here,” Madison said, “The studio, I mean.” Not that it bothered her. Get fucked in a gas station bathroom turned brothel enough times and the scent of bodily fluids can’t phase you.


The director called for Darcy before she could answer. “Don’t get too bored, Lizzy,” the badger said, leaving the hooded and bound stink badger kneeling on a pillow beside her chair as she returned to the set built as a bedroom where three more girls of her age were waiting. 


A set helper grabbed Madison’s leash before she could relax. “H-Hey,” Madison grunted, struggling to balance at the sudden pull against her neck.


“We need you on set four. Someone called in sick.”


“Can you undo my cuffs first?” 


The helper, a stallion, blinked confused for a second with eyes that looked like they’d been without sleep for a day. “Oh, right. Sure. Sorry.” He unlocked her cuffs but kept them on hand as he led her along. 


Underwood Studios used a warehouse space with several sets going on all the time. Careful engineering and soundproofing made it so films never got stuck with another. There were rooms built with specific gimmicks in mind in the lower levels of the warehouse, something Madison wasn’t even aware warehouses could have. Sometimes actors would head out somewhere in town for a more open air shoot in the woods or something. Madison saw a van leave sometimes when she came in after school. 


Set four, for reasons she wasn’t sure why, was set in the basement. Redesigned to look more like various flavors of BDSM dungeon, from medieval cells and chambers, nursing rooms straight out of a horror set without blood, to more sleek modern obsidian walls and floors with leather or rubber furniture, it was the only place in Underwood where Madison’s attire didn’t make her stick out. Mistresses, masters, and gimps galore of varying ages and species filled the various sets. 


“You brought the new heater?” A fox woman who, if the obnoxious hat was anything to go by, was the director. “You know they don’t act.”


“How much does she need to act? It’s a side role to Isolde.”


The director shook her head and sighed, clearly having had this argument too many times to repeat it. “Just put the gimp to work with Isolde. The agent called back so we might not need a replacement.”


“Lizzy,” Madison said. Embarrassing name or not, she’ll be damned if people refer to her as “the gimp”. 


For a second the director flashed her a look that might as well screamed, “How dare you speak back to me, I went to DuPaul!” but she gave up the next second and waved her off, “Fine, Lizzy, just do your job while we sort shit out.”


The horse sat her down in front of a porcupine girl her age. Madison had seen enough pornstars to know which ones were dressed to be on top and which ones were meant to be on bottom. This porcupine in question had long red leather boots that were freshly waxed and a matching corset with an upside down cross stitched into it. Her quills were tipped with a deep red and hanging from the side was an attached devil’s tail. The only thing out of place were the big round glasses sported over her snout, with two brown eyes staring intently at a phone pinging game noises in her hands. At least, until Madison was set before her. 


“Oh…” she closed her legs almost bashfully. “Are…are you the heater?”


“Yeah,” Madison said reluctantly, “Possibly your costar.”


“Is that why you’re in a hood? No one wears those regularly because they like to.”


“Believe me when I say I’m envious. My contract requires this dumb thing.”


Her eyes lit up at that. “Oh, you’re Lizzy?”


Trying not to groan at the thought of her name spreading, Madison nodded, “Yeah…look just spread your legs so I can do my job.” Somehow eating cunt was better than talking to this girl. Madison couldn’t explain why, it was like talking to Heidi sometimes. Too friendly to stomach.


The corset did nothing to hide her cunt, leaving it exposed for Madison’s tried and tested tongue to do its thing. The girl, Isolde as she introduced herself, kept talking as if the stink badger wasn’t doing anything. Anime, card games, anime video games with terms Madison barely understood like waifu and husbando, it made her want to dig deeper just to get the porcupine to shut up. 


It just added compliments into the mix. 


“Oh wow, you’ve got the good heater,” a new voice said. Madison saw her as she came up for breath. A horse dressed in a nun’s outfit sat beside them, cigarette in one hand. Despite the massive erection tenting her outfit she didn’t seem interested. Likely a drug based erection.


“Her name’s Lizzy. I thought they were joking. Lizzy Bean, you know what that means right? Lesbian.”


The mare gave Isolde one long hard stare. “Uh huh. Think she’s replacing Stephanie?”


“Oh, that’d be cool. Would you like that, Liz?” Isolde patted Madison’s head to get her attention. “It’s a really cool scene that stars me as a devil. Not sure which devil, but I think Asmodeus because of lust. It’s actually a really deep script where it looks like I’m tempting a nun but in reality I’m coming to collect on her villainous ways by hitting her weakest addiction. It’s–”


“It’s a way to get around the cubdom issue while having a cubdom,” the mare blew a cloud of smoke condescendingly above her head. “I swear this 1000 year old loli shit is the stupidest thing.” 


The stage hand returned with a blindfold before Madison could answer. Isolde asked what he was doing when he clipped it over her face. “Lizzy’s contract says she can’t see dick. Think you can be physically directing her?”


“Oh? Um…sure?” Her lack of confidence didn’t do Madison any favors. “Is there a limit in her contract?” 


“Nope. Nothing beyond studio limits.”


The following relieved sigh felt like an iron ball for Madison. “I can work with that.” They whisked Madison away without ceremony, locking her wrists and ankles in chains before shoving her in some trapdoor. She’d been gagged before any protest could be made. 


The floor was thin enough for Madison to listen in on the plot as it were. The mare was a nun suffering from temptation, praying to her god for release from such torment that plagued her thoughts. If her god listened he didn’t answer, leaving the request open for the devil played by Isolde in a tempting dominatrix outfit. 


“Please,” the mare begged with a breathy voice, “Away, foul princess of pleasure. Have I not paid for my sins?”


“Have you?” Isolde asked with a creepy giggle, “Or have you given indulgences in place of it? I know your dreams, dear sister. I know how you watch the young ones, how you spend time in the confessional alone with thoughts of what you’d do to them. Was the first not enough? Or did you think offering her to me would absolve you of sins you make no effort in confronting?” 


The mare seemed confused by the question. Madison, having not seen a script, guessed Isolde went off it. That didn’t matter when the trapdoor flung open and a dainty pair of hands directed the blind and mute stinkbadger upwards on camera. 


“W-Who is that?” the mare asked, her fear mixed with arousal. 


“Do you not recognize her, dear sister?” Isolde pulled Madison’s head back, trailing a finger down the hooded face. “I suppose it is difficult to tell behind her new face. She was such a pretty thing, so innocent when you sacrificed her.”


“N-No…” the nun gulped, “I did no such…”


“Must you believe your own lies? Or did you truly forget that night you snuck into the orphans quarters? Did you forget stalking one for months to find the perfect opportunity? Did you forget how tight she was?” 


By now Isolde had Madison kneeling, leaving her to kick the knees. The mare gasped as Madison spread her legs, revealing the piercings lining her cunt. A money shot for the camera no doubt. 


“She hasn’t,” Isolde said softly, petting Madison’s hooded scalp. “I’ve made sure that you were the last one inside this hole. But I have trained others. Deep in the pits of my domain she has become a well trained toy of pleasure. One the guilty always find themselves eager to entrap themselves upon. For you it may have been months, but for her it has been lifetimes.”


Gloved hands clasped her gagged maw, slowly undoing the straps. “Do you wish to feel her?” A finger slipped past her lips and down her throat, far past the point her gag-reflex would have reacted. Ruth trained her well. “To taste the throat of a thousand lifetimes?”


“Yes…” the nun said quietly, guilt and desire mixing into an unholy concoction. “Yes, Mistress,”


“Oh, so eager. So much for those petty vows,” Isolde laughed, dragging Madison’s head forward until her latex hood braced the heat of the mare’s cock. The stench of arousal made her mouth drool in anticipation. Her tongue tried to taste it. Isolde clasped it between her fingers. 


“See how eager she is?” Isolde childed, fingers still clasped tight around the tongue, “Do you think she remembers you? I know she still dreams of that night, where you stole her from her bed. Where you defiled her before your lord until the sun shined through stained glass. It is too late for you, sister. Give yourself to me, and I shall let your twisted desires run free. Under me, you will know only pleasure. No guilt, no shame, just joy and desire. Be mine.”


“Yes!” The nun cried out with the breathy allure of a proper pornstar, “Yes, I submit. Take my soul. Fill me with pleasure.”


Isolde hoist Madison up to the flat-headed cocktip and shoved her down it before she could protest. The surprising strength in her twiggy arms repelled her gagged protests, forcing the stinkbadger to breathe through her nose or choke on dick. Her lungs burned with every new inch down her throat, bulging it with hot pulsing flesh. Madison cupped her cuffed hands in prayer at the thought of reaching the base. She found relief when Isolde let go. The porcupine shattered it with her foot bracing Madison’s skull to stomp her nose into the mare’s crotch. 


The mare’s gasp was real. A surprised shock that her cock now filled the entirety of another girl’s throat in seconds. 


“Do you like it?” Isolde chided, tapping her boot along Madison’s skull. “I’ve made her spend years with her throat filled, suffering in silence for the pleasure of others.” 


Isolde pulled her up. Madison felt like she could hurl. The young domme shoved her back down at the medial ring. “She makes a better toy than partner. Better to use her like an object, a tool. My favorite tool.”


Heat bundled between her legs in the midst of Isolde’s ranting. Madison lost her strength to struggle, slumping loosely to ease under the girl’s power as she rammed the stinkbadger’s throat down the mare’s cock like a rubber onahole. Her body convulsed but her mind kept her steady. Ruth’s training and time in the Back-in-Gas prepared her for it. Isolde seemed eager to push the limits. 


The mare cried out in surprise orgasm, stuffing Madison’s gut with horse seed. She didn’t taste it until pulled off, and that was only after the pulsing stopped. She coughed, sputtering what felt like pounds of seed from her throat. 


“Did I say you could cum?” Isolde growled. Not being able to see the domme made her sound all the scarier. The mare meekly said no, earning a devilish laugh from the porcupine. “Well, guess we’ll need to punish you.”


“Scene!” The director called. An aid handed Madison an ice cold water bottle. She fumbled with the cap, then tried to undo the blindfold only for another aid to stop her. They were still shooting, just for a new scene. One the director had to make up judging from what she was telling Isolde. 


“That wasn’t the script. What’s this talk of death and ages? That’s way too dark.”


“I mean…it’s a rape fic, isn’t it?” Isolde didn’t sound sure of herself, “Plus with Lizzy’s contract requiring the hood, her being just a church orphan doesn’t make sense. I mean, look at how I’m dressed. Her being my enslaved soul from hell sounds like it makes more sense.”


“Ok, fine, but…” the director sighed, “She wasn’t supposed to cum yet. We’re already behind schedule and she’s going to need a bit before she can get hard again.”


“Not if we don’t need her to be hard.” Isolde’s tone sounded like she was smiling. “The next scene is a punishment for her, right? So let’s get a cage.”


“How’s she gonna fuck the gimp?”


“Lizzy.”


“Whatever.”


“Trust me, I have an idea.”


The idea in question involved strapping Madison’s back against a table with her limbs spread apart. Once an assistant learned how flexible she was they instead pushed her legs behind her head. They had the courtesy to ask about her comfort before gagging her back up.


“That cage is your punishment,” Isolde said, back in her haughty character. “You cum when I say you do. Your body is mine, as is your soul, to do with as I please.”


Madison knew the sound of disposable latex gloves being pulled on. She wriggled when Isolde’s gloved hand braced her pierced cunt, huffing through her mask at every brush and flick. It wasn’t until the cool lube smeared across her asshole that she realized what was about to happen, and with the mare’s cock locked there was only one thing to put in there. She flailed in her bindings. Isolde laughed. 


“Still she fears the start,” Isolde teased, “Even centuries of training this hole, she fears the first push. I prefer it that way. Keeps things exciting.”


Like a spear the porcupine’s hand plunged into her bowels through her ass. Madison had taken bigger and thicker, most often from horses or Ruth’s own arm, but the sudden push followed by the form of a fist inside had her reeling in chains. Her gag suppressed her screams, pitched with pleasure and pain. The director called for a close up on her as Isolde’s fist pistoned inside, drinking in every second of her hell. 


Her cunt was a river. 


Isolde replaced her arm with the mare nun’s tongue after a moment, ordering her to ease the gimp back. Having only been the rimmer, getting a rimjob felt like a special massage. She could see why Ruth liked it. Isolde didn’t give her much time to relax into it, having taken out her gag and replaced her with her own sopping wet cunt. 


“That’s it…” Isolde grunted through her lips. She held the gimp’s head in place, grinding her cunt hard when Madison’s tongue wasn’t enough, “If she’s a good girl she’ll get a taste of your again, tongue and all. But you’re mine. Remember that. Mine.”




***




The studio had showers for stars. Unfortunately they were public showers, so Madison couldn’t take them without removing her hood. Given her contract, she couldn’t shower until either everyone else had left, or until she got home. It made waiting outside to be picked up a tinge more humiliating. 


Ruth spritzed her with air freshener and made her sit on a towel every time. “You smell worse than normal,” the bear said, letting her covered tits hang free so she could properly cover her nose with her shirt. 


“They finally got me in a shoot,” Madison grumbled, “Something about a nun being tempted to sin.”


“You were a nun?”


“I was the temptation.”


Ruth laughed. On the way home Madison explained more, not because she wanted to or so she believed. Ruth asked questions, Madison gave more than she wanted to give. 


“You must like this Isolde,” Ruth said when they got home.


Madison shrugged. She ran a hand through her sweaty headfur now free of the hood, “She’s just another fucked up kid in this town. What’s there to like?”


“Something, I’m sure,” Ruth said, “Just gotta wait and see.”