2 comments/ 21388 views/ 1 favorites Hollyquirk Studios: Week 00 By: deathlynx Hollyquirk Studios: Week 0 (Pre-production) Maxwell McGrath looked around his new office with pride. Although most of the pre-production legwork was already done, the studio had only finally gotten around to giving him an office to work out of. Although they claimed they had been waiting for the space to become available, Max suspected it had more to do with ensuring the project would actually get to this stage. He'd had to sooth some egos, more than once, to keep the movie on track, but that was little consideration. This was it, at last. After years of directing commercials, and the occasional rock video, he finally had a chance at the movies. Max collapsed into the comfortable chair, behind the solid wood desk; his desk! While the desk was impressive, it wasn't the piece of furniture he was most excited about. Ever since he'd become a director, the leather couch, with delightfully soft cushions, had sat in his basement in anticipation of this day. It was his 'casting couch.' Commercials had mostly been small time, nothing big enough to warrant lewd acts to get a role. Besides, most of the commercials he'd done centered around kids and animals, and he certainly wasn't perverse enough to take interest in that. While the music videos showed promise, all of the attractive young women sought the beds of the musicians themselves. He barely merited listening to when he tried to clear the set of all of the groupies. No. This was it! This was his chance, not only to make a name for himself, but maybe get a little action in the process. As if on cue, the intercom on his phone buzzed. "Mr. McGrath?" Who else would be listening in his office? Patience had seen him come in, alone. "Your first appointment is here Mr. McGrath." Patience, his personal assistant, was a sweet kid and he could hear the pride in her voice that rivaled his own. Max glanced down at his desk to see a folder sat in the center of his blotter. A quick glance at the tab told him the appointment was a 'Tufts, Tiffany.' He flipped open the folder even as he reached to press the intercom button. "Send her in, if you would." A very attractive blond smiled up at him from the head-shot in the open folder. That told him all he really needed to know. This was a last minute interview for an extra. He couldn't quite keep the twinkle from his eye as he grinned at the couch. Thoughts of christening it properly, during his first appointment, floated through his head. That was probably why he had scheduled the woman so early. The door opened and he knew, with certainty, that it had been exactly what he had intended. Max had to struggle to keep his jaw from dropping. Her head-shot didn't do her justice. He was pretty sure no camera in the world would ever do her justice, but that was fine with him. He rather preferred the view he had. Her long, blond, hair cascaded across her shoulders and fell halfway down her back. When she reached up to tuck it behind her ears, the smooth, clear, features of her face shined; full red lips and deep blue eyes in delightful contrast. But it was far more than that which almost stole the muscle control in his jaw. She dressed to enhance her hourglass figure. Her large breasts strained against the skintight shirt. The dark circles of her areola shone through the thin white fabric. In the cool spring weather, her nipples thrust forward and left nothing to the imagination. Her pants spoke just as eloquently, including the knowledge that she didn't wear so much as a scrap of underwear. The elastic material clung to her every curve from just below her tiny bellybutton all the way down to just below her knees. From that point, he barely noticed, the legs swept out into bellbottoms. His attention was focused, as she'd intended it to be, directly between her legs. As tight as the material was, even the vague bulge of her clit could be seen. Max hurried to stand as she took her first steps into his office. There was nothing he hated more than the Hollywood types who ignored the simple courtesies out of a sense of power play. When someone came into his office, for an appointment, he intended to greet them properly. Unfortunately, his khaki's shifted uncomfortably and he realized if he moved to the door, to see her in, she would realize exactly how pleased he was to see her. He let the desk mask some of his guilt and leaned far over to shake her hand. Tiffany leaned much farther across the desk than was strictly necessary. Max certainly didn't mind, as it brought her cleavage, framed by her low neckline, much closer for his inspection. He knew he'd chosen his first appointment perfectly. He dragged his eyes upwards, to meet hers, and was surprised by a flash of mixed disappointment and insult. He smiled as he let his gaze wander, on it's own, back down her body. By the way her shoulders relaxed slightly, this was exactly how she wanted to have a conversation with him. "Ms. Tufts. Thank you for stopping by so early. Please, have a seat." Max scooped the file from his desk and pretended to flip through it as he watched her. Tiffany glanced over her shoulder and realized, apparently, that the chair was too far for her liking. When she turned, he got his first look at her tight, firm, ass. She bent over, to move the chair an inch closer to the desk. The tight fabric not only accented the round cheeks, but even pressed inwards enough to give hints to supple lips. His cock pressed firmly against the constraining fabric of his boxers and jeans. By the time she turned around and sat, the pretense of the folder was forgotten. He stared in naked desire at her crotch. Her knees wiggled open and closed slightly as she shifted position in the seat. Finally, she slumped into the chair in defeat. The position left her legs wide open and the fabric pulled so tight he could identify the exact spot he soon hoped to position himself. "I'm sorry, I can't seem to get comfortable in this chair, do you mind if I move over to the couch? It looks far more comfortable." Max knew for a fact that the chair was almost impossible to be uncomfortable in. At the same time, he wasn't about to object to getting her on the couch so quickly. "Feel free." He waved a hand in the general direction of the couch. As she got up and walked over, he got a very nice image of her ass swaying with each step. He had to resist the urge to bring his fingers up in mimicry of the camera view. Yes, that ass definitely belonged on the big screen. The moment she sat, she patted the couch next to her. Although the invitation was the most blatant sign of her desire, he still had to go through the motions for propriety's sake. The folder came back out and he began to 'study' it, as he rounded the desk. He heard a growl and his eyes flickered over to her. Her gaze was intent on his crotch. For the first time, it seemed like she might have lost a little of her control. The soft growl had not sounded feigned. He decided to play it a little, to see how she reacted. Max leaned against his desk with his ankles crossed. "You have a decent resume. Most of the professional credits are commercials, but that's not necessarily prohibitive." He kept glancing up. Each glimpse only refreshed his erection. Her breasts seemed about to explode from her shirt as she had leaned forward slightly. She never noticed his looks, however, as her attention could have burned right through his pants. "What kind of role were you hoping for?" Startled by the direct question, Tiffany's head snapped up to meet his collected gaze. Max was about to repeat the question when she shook her head and turned back to him, her poise once more in complete control. "Well, I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't like a large role, but I'm mostly just looking for a part. I'll take any position you think I can handle." Max swallowed reflexively at the suggestive purr in her voice. He pushed off the desk to stand, very aware that his condition showed acutely. He opened his mouth to speak when her tongue dragged across her red lips. It took him a couple of tries to find the breath to speak. "Well, you know this business, you have to start at the bottom and work your way to the top." Somehow, Tiffany managed so slip off the couch, and onto her knees, gracefully. On hands and knees, she stalked the few feet to kneel before him. He couldn't help but be aware that her breasts were now the perfect height to completely envelope him, were both of them naked. Likewise, his body realized her lips, that now constantly moistened themselves, could just as easily sink down to swallow him whole. "I like starting at the bottom. I find it very fulfilling." Tiffany grinned as the bulge in his pants pulsed at her. Her hands reached up and began to slowly unclasp his belt. Max leaned back, with his hands heavily on the edge of the desk. Practiced fingers made quick work of the button and then nimbly slid the zipper down, even as she maneuvered his pants from his hips. His cock sprang forward, but missed the fly, to create a very drastic tent of his boxers. Tiffany's grin was wide, and very toothy, as she discovered the prize she had unleashed. She leaned forward and he felt her teeth graze lightly across his tip, with only the fabric a hindrance. "Mr. McGrath?" Max's heart nearly stopped as Patience's voice intruded. A glance down showed that Tiffany had pulled back slightly, but her mouth still formed a very suggestive "O" as she began to suck on a well manicured finger. Her eyes laughed at the turn of events. Max was anything but amused. His balls burned with need. He was so worked up, he felt like a vice had grabbed him and continued to crank tighter. "Mr. McGrath, are you there?" Max jabbed the intercom button. "Yes Patience, I'm here. But I told you not to disturb me when I'm in a...Yip!" Without freeing him from the silk boxers, Tiffany's mouth slid around his head and plunged to his very base. Max took his finger off the intercom for a moment to struggle to keep the moan from his breath. Finally he could talk, if a bit breathy. "Not when I'm in a meeting." This time the moan did escape as her tight mouth pulled back. "I'm sorry sir. I wouldn't normally. I understand how...important...your privacy is in meetings, but the producer is here and insists on seeing you immediately." Max's finger slipped from the button again. "Oh God!" Even he wasn't sure whether it was because of Tiffany's maddening actions or the sure knowledge that he was about to be inundated with another crisis. "Can't...can't she...waitafewminutes....at least?" The vice had begun to loosen and he was sure another minute in that hot, wet, mouth would leave him completely relaxed, and ready to deal with whatever Kara was about to dump on him. "I'm sorry Max. Miss! Miss! You can't just go in there!" "Like hell I can't!" Max could hear Kara both over the intercom and through the closed door. He panicked. Even though he burned with need, he threw himself backward and out of a surprised Tiffany's mouth. He jerked his pants back up and barely got the button and belt closed as he jumped behind the desk. Frantic, he motioned Tiffany to stand. With maddening slowness, she did. The door slammed open to find Tiffany standing before the desk, and Max behind. Both turned to see the redhead enter. The executive producer had every bit as many curves as Tiffany, and they were all in the right places. Her breasts might be a bit smaller, but not so much as to be a hindrance. In fact, Max reflected, the well-to-do woman probably had considerably less back problems than the aspiring actress. Of course, not having to spend time of her knees, bent over a director's dick would also account for some of that. No, Kara didn't kiss anything of Max's. In fact she expected him to do the kissing. Max turned to Tiffany. "As I was saying, Ms. Tufts, we have a number of scenes for you. If you could speak to my assistant, I'm sure she'll get you up to speed." He leaned across the desk and shook her hand once more. Tiffany's eyes glittered as she smiled at him and then turned to leave. Kara's smile, as the young actress passed her, was about as fake as any Max had ever seen. The executive's eyes called the actress a whore as loudly as her voice ever could. Max flopped back into his comfortable chair. He flinched slightly as his swollen balls shifted between his legs. "And what couldn't wait for a couple of minutes?" "Me!" Kara Evercum crossed the room and took the seat on the other side of the desk. Max had to admit that she was hot. Her gray skirt-suit complimented her hair wonderfully. At the same time, it clung to her body almost as tightly as Tiffany's outfit had. The only difference was that hers had the class to actually obscure the very areas that inflamed his already pained lust. He needed to get this over and done with so he could, at least, run to the private bathroom and jack off. "Well, since you couldn't wait a couple of minutes, I'm assuming you're here on business and not to ask me on a date?" "Zip up before you make any more suggestive statements." Max glanced down, then quickly zipped his pants. He was about stammer out an explanation when she held up a hand. "Look, I know how the business works. It's a power thing, and not just the guys go for it. I've known some women who can't control themselves around the bodice-ripper types who walk through their door. The only difference is, guys don't usually know how to suck clit worth shit!" Max turned beet red. "Well, at least you still have enough decency to be embarrassed about it. Given this is your first big gig, I'd bet she was your first." He couldn't keep eye contact. He sensed, more than saw, her lean forward. "Wow! I'm sorry, I really did interrupt didn't I?" Max's eyes snapped back to hers in time to see her pale skin flush with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, just thought you'd have...I thought you and she...I thought she would be...Oh, God! Shut your fucking mouth now Kara." Max had pity on her. Kara was, at heart, a decent woman. "I certainly would have liked to. But you know how it looks. These days, men in power get scrutinized. Anything happens, consensual or not, the guy will eventually find himself up on harassment charges. Why? Because that's where the big bucks are." "Sleep your way to the top, then earn a fat bonus check by lawsuit?" Max nodded at Kara's assessment. "I hate that shit as much as the fuckers who make a girl blow him for a mere slot as an extra." Max fought to keep the guilt from his face. "Anyway, I'm here because the head of the studio wanted a few minor changes to the script. He thinks there should be more sex and comedy to it." "Are you fucking kidding me!?! It's a modern day war movie! The name of the fucking thing is 'Tragic Tactics,' for Christ's sake, and he want's more comedy!?! And sex? Aside from the extras, there's only two women in the entire film, and one of them is a nun! What, does he want Dirk to make two of the soldiers gay ?" Kara's expression suddenly changed to very thoughtful. Frighteningly so. "No! Don't even think it!" "Why not? The publicity alone would be worth millions. And that's before the Christian or military groups started to protest. Besides, movies with gays in them are almost guaranteed Oscars. Your first movie could be an award winner." Kara had hit a nerve with that one, enough so that the thought slipped into his brain to percolate. "All right, you're right about the reaction. And I know, it's the studio's decision about the other stuff. But I know how Dirk is going to react. YOU know how he's going to react." She nodded and Max deflated. "Which is why you want me, as usual, to tell him." Kara's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Oh, don't give me that Kara. I know you're fucking him. It was you who brought me the script, remember? Usually it goes up the chain, not jumps around it. The writer bring it to me and I beg a producer. When a writer's gotten it to a producer already, he's gotta be banging someone special. In your case I knew it was you by the way your eyes glow when you talk about him. Well, except when you tell me changes need to be made. So yes, I know you're in love with him, and yes, I'll be the bad guy and sooth out the ruffled feathers with no mention of you." Kara sank back into the chair with a relieved smile. The ice-cold bitch persona melted away. "Thank you Max. You don't know how much this means. He's a wonderful man, but just so touchy about his baby." She got up and was almost to the door when she spun to face him once more. "And we are going to tell people soon, we just want to wait until post production, late in filming at the earliest, so it can look like we hooked up here." "Just one condition!" Kara's eyes narrowed as she became the ice-bitch once more. "Next time, if I ask you for 'a few minutes' so I can finish business with someone, please have the courtesy of some respect? I actually do business here, and even though everyone knows the producer has final say, it doesn't do my credibility any good to toss that business aside on a spur of the moment." Max had to admit, she really was even more attractive when she blushed in embarrassment. He didn't want to make her feel bad, but he needed to be respected by the actors and crew, at the very least. Okay, so he hadn't been preparing for business this time, but in the future he probably would. He accepted her nod with a smile. She was always good to her word. Max's head crashed forward, onto the desk, the moment she closed the door behind her. He was not looking forward to the phone call. He knew he should do it in person, but he simply didn't have the guts to face down the temperamental artist in full, living, color. Blindly, his finger punched the intercom button. He knew his voice was muffled by the desk, but Patience would understand him anyway. She always did. "Patience? Could you please get Dirk Dullwood on the phone?" As the rush of excitement drained from his body, the vice slowly returned to remind him his body had issue that needed to be dealt with. "Make that five minutes would you?" "No problem Mr. McGrath." Max barely, heard as he hobbled to the bathroom. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "I don't care if he's the president of the United Fucking States of America! How the hell am I supposed to do that?" Blood raced as Dirk yelled into the phone. "It's your gift Dirk! I don't know many people who could figure it out, but you're a genius with these kinds of requests. Besides, the gay angle could win you an Oscar easily!" Dirk sighed heavily as a shudder ran through his body. "All right, I'll think about it. Hell! Who am I kidding? Either I do this or he'll get a chimp for the rewrite and then we're both screwed. Just make sure this is the last time Max!" The phone crashed onto its cradle. "God! More changes! A week until we start filming and they want me to rewrite? How am I supposed to handle that?" The wet, pink, lips slid up his strained dick. He slipped free of the succulent mouth with an audible 'pop.' The head tilted back, and Dirk was favored with the sight of bright green eyes, framed by luxurious, wavy, brown, hair. "You're tense Dirky-poo. Sit back, relax, and I'll make it all better!" The pouty lips pursed, then opened to slip back around his hard cock. Dirk collapsed into his chair with a theatrical sigh. Cassy had refused to stop her meal simply because the phone rang. Frankly, he wouldn't have asked if it hadn't been Max. As it was, that was the only person he feared would realize what was truly going on. Hell, the bastard probably had a slut under his own desk during the call. Still, Dirk thought he deserved an Oscar for turning all of the moans and screams of delight into some semblance of feigned anger. Hollyquirk Studios: Week 00 In truth, he didn't give a shit about the script. The thing was crap and he knew it. The changes Kara proposed, always in the name of the 'studio head,' might even win him the Oscar, as Max suggested. The important thing was that this was his big break. Once the movie came out, he would be a known commodity. His scripts didn't even need to be all that good, all he really had to do was keep at the forefront of the popular bandwagon. He knew he could write a mediocre script in less than a month, so the moment he found out about the next big trend, he would be all over it. Who knows, he would probably even leak word about how many rewrites he had to do on this. The studios would gobble it up. The producers would love that he could keep on schedule despite their ridiculous demands. The fans would eat up the sympathy garbage of an overworked artist, trying to make it under the worst conditions. And, best of all, it would give him the perfect excuse to dump Kara right before the premier! It was win-win for everyone. They got the publicity for the budding romance, behind the scenes, and the extra boost right before premier with the big break-up. The lips pressed against his groin and Dirk moaned appreciatively. Cassy tilted her head and he felt her throat constrict around the tip of his cock. His body shuddered. She laughed at his response and the sound buzzed straight up his dick to tickle his bulging balls. "Ohhhhhhh Godddd!" His balls tightened. Cassy felt the slight motion and her lips gripped his shaft. She pulled her head upwards and dragged across his overactive flesh. Dirk's hips shook with the impending explosion. His fingers tangled in Cassy's hair as he gripped the back of her head. With a quick thrust, he shoved himself farther than she had gone before. The loose skin tightened further and his arms pressed her head tighter to his groin. With a shout, Dirk's burning seed erupted into Cassy's tight throat. She moaned in appreciation and greedily swallowed his cum. Her moan vibrated through his crotch and inspired him to pull her head back slightly before he rammed deep once more. The second jet shot into her and he released her head with a shove. Even as she fell away, he coated her disappointed frown with even more of his lust. A pink nailed finger trailed across Cassy's face to collect the wasted cum. His eyes dropped down to her luscious, round, triple-D breasts and her large, dark, nipples. She sucked the finger suggestively and his eyes snapped back up. This quickly after his climax, Dirk didn't do more than pulse slightly as he grew more limp. But he did have intentions. He'd stopped her for a reason. "Should I be shrinking?" Cassy looked at him in confusion. Dirk frowned and glanced down at his flaccid member. Her eyes widened in comprehension. She bent forward and took him easily back into her mouth. He groaned as she sucked him in and he swelled slightly. But not nearly enough. "Harder," he growled at her. Cassy nodded her head without releasing him. The extra motion tugged at the limp form and inspired greater blood flow. "Do that again!" Green eyes turned up to Dirk in confusion. "Nod you stupid bimbo!" Instinctively, she did. He swelled harder and filled her mouth. He saw her try to open her lips, for a breath, and forced her head against him. Seconds passed. She struggled slightly before he finally released her. When she pulled free for a breath he glared at her. "Use them and your mouth." Cassy nodded meekly and lifted her breasts to surround his semi-hard cock. Her lips enveloped the tip and tickled the ridge. Surrounded by her warm, soft, breasts, and taunted by her tight lips, Dirk sprang instantly hard. He let her continue for a few minutes, let the stimulation build, before he finally grabbed her hair again. She stood easily, with his direction. Cassy spun and fell against the desk as he pushed her backwards. Dirk enjoyed the view for a moment. Her soft, round, butt thrust in the air towards him. Pink lips glistened with her juices. This was what he liked most about her. Cassy began to push herself up, off the desk. Dirk grinned and rushed forward. His hand found the back of her neck and pressed her upper body flat to the desk. His tip found her blazing sex and shoved himself into her tight depths. Her scream, as he buried himself to the hilt, was of pleasure, but he knew it held just the barest hint of pain. More blood flowed with the knowledge and he grew larger inside her. She screamed louder as he forced her muscles wider and pierced a little deeper. Dirk's fingers caught the edge of her hair and tugged slightly, even as he pushed her harder onto the desk. He pulled himself free and slammed home once more. Cassy's hands scrambled across the desk for any purchase, but only succeeded in scattering the contents across the floor. Her screams alternated with moans as he thrust forward and pierced just far enough for the slightest bit of pain. Finally, she discovered the far edge of the desk and gripped, for all she was worth, as the first orgasm rolled through her body. Dirk continued to pound into the quivering body trapped beneath him. Her helplessness fueled his lust. Instinct drove Cassy's legs to kick against him. Without a missed beat, his legs forced hers aside. The new position drove him even deeper, with a slightly upward angle. Her screams redoubled as climax built upon orgasm. Her muscles gripped and stroked his hard cock as he glided effortlessly in and out of her too-tight pussy. He was close; two, maybe three more thrusts before he burst. He needed to prove his total domination quickly. Dirk pulled completely free and slammed deep as he put a hand on her ass. As he slid clear the second time, his balls surged. His thumb slid between her soft cheeks. He drilled into her. His thumb found her puckered muscles and she screamed louder, in realization and anticipation. As his ridge dragged across her overtaxed pussy a final time, he felt the surge of excitement. As one, Dirk's throbbing cock sheathed in her hot pussy and his thumb forced itself deep into her ass. Cassy screamed as an uncounted climax tore at her body. His hips crushed against hers and he exploded inside of her. The pulse of his orgasm sent a fresh climax through her. His thumb stabbed in and out. Her continued euphoria clenched against him and sustained his release. Finally, Cassy's breath steadied. Dirk had already begun to grow soft and slipped out with ease. As she languished in the afterglow, he collected their clothes. His went on with practiced grace and he tossed hers on top of her. "I need to get back to work. Time to get out." Cassy nodded meekly and put on her clothes. With her head down, she followed him to the door. Dirk looked at her and pulled something out of his pocket. Cassy's eyes widened nervously when she saw the small device. It hummed when he turned it on, confirmed its intent. He grinned evilly at her. "Pull up your skirt and hold your panties aside." She nodded and quickly complied. "Are you stupid? Bend over!" Shaking, she did. She half-moaned, half-screamed, as he roughly buried the inch-wide, vibrating, egg deep in her ass. "You will keep that in there until I tell you otherwise. If the batteries run out, you must find me immediately. Do you understand" She nodded meekly. One last check of their clothing and she ripped the door open with assurance. "This is the last time you get special treatment! I swear, one more fucking tantrum about overcooked steak and I'll be after you with a God-damned cleaver, you childish cretin!" Dirk's face contorted with rage as he grabbed the plates, left by the door, and threw them at the screaming brunette. "If you were a quarter as dangerous as your cooking, I might be afraid, bitch! Now get out of here and find someone who doesn't have a penchant for processing charcoal!" Dirk slammed the door and leaned against it with a content smile. Everyone at the studio was terrified of Cassy Sunt, 'the catering bitch from hell.' They went out of their way to avoid her wrath. But the first time he'd met her, he'd had a bad day. When she bit his head off over his, in his opinion, legitimate concern he'd yelled right back. Ever since, there had been a running feud between the two. Cassy showed up, an hour later, at his trailer. Dirk had calmed down a little, but wasn't ready for another round of shouting. He figured it would be better to get it over with while he had a little free time. He got his biggest surprise when he closed the door. She dropped to her knees, prostrated herself before him, and begged for 'her master's' forgiveness. But that shock had been nothing compared to the surprise when he'd broken the twenty-year-old's maidenhead right then and there. She claimed to have never found anyone strong enough to dominate her. Dirk knew she had already fallen in love with him and didn't mind. She did everything he asked without hesitation; took every pain and humiliation. In public, they continued to fight, but in private, she was his own personal slave. Dirk sighed happily. He had Kara for the more romantic crap, and especially for his advancement, and Cassy for his every other desire. His life was good! But it really was time to get to those rewrites. This is the first chapter of a chain. I highly encourage you to follow the forthcoming misadventures as the studio tries to produce 'Tragic Tactics.' If you enjoyed the story, please tell your friends, and most especially, please vote. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy the rest of the chain. Copyright March 2007, by Deathlynx Hollyquirk Studios: Week 01 Reese Willingfunck walked into the trailer after hearing the quiet, "Come in." She ran her fingers through her long brown curls and plastered a smile on her face. "Mister Longslide?" she asked, her green eyes looking imploringly at the fifty something, salt and pepper, slightly balding Cinematographer. "Miss Willingfunck," Anthony said, rising and extending his hand, "A pleasure to see you again." He meant it too. The beautiful and semi-talented woman was pleasing to look at as well as polite. He saw star potential in the twenty-two-year-old and was a bit sadden by the fact she wasn't the Lead Actress on the set, but just the underling, or Supporting Actress as the professional title deemed her. "The pleasure is all mine, Mister Longslide," Reese answered, taking his hand in hers and gently squeezing it. Her long lashes framed her bright eyes and the make-up artist had definitely found a way to accent her features. "Please, call me Tony," Anthony said, as he cleared out a spot on his small love seat, and offering it to her. Reese smiled softly and took the offered spot on the tattered cushion. "Then please feel free to call me Reese." "Delighted," Anthony told her and took a moment to study her as she crossed her legs. Her skirt rode high up on her thigh and he could see the garter strap in place. "I see you're dressed for the Night Club scene." She grinned and tugged gently on her skirt. "Yes, I am. I only wish I wasn't standing in the corner watching the couple dance. I'm an excellent dancer, but I guess that's my lot in life at the moment. A bit of camera time here and there." Anthony nodded his head, bringing his fingers up to his lips and forming a steeple. "You're not giving yourself enough credit there Miss. . .I mean Reese. After all, it's your job to make her look good. That's why you're 'supporting' her." Reese sighed, crossing her arms under her breasts, forcing the round globes to mesh together. "I know, it's just dancing... I really can dance." She stood up and sauntered over to Anthony. Her eyes dragging slowly down his body. "I mean, I'm sure that if you saw how perfect I was for the club scene, you'd want to focus more of the shots my way. After all... the better the scene, the better the feedback, which means more jobs and more dollar signs for you." Anthony scooted his chair back and smirked. He read her face, the way her body moved in a soft swiveling action and knew who would get most of the camera time this morning. His hands moved to her hips and then down to rub along her thighs. His fingers skimmed the edge of her skirt. His nails grazed her skin as he pushed the soft material up higher. He dragged his fingertips across the bands of her garter straps and then hooked them. With a smirk, he pulled and released the elastic and was rewarded with Reese's giggle. "Dance for me, Reese," Anthony cooed as his fingers moved to grope her ass. "Yes, baby," she purred back, and stood with her feet slightly more than hip-width apart. Reese drew a circle with her hips, arching her back. Her hands moved up her torso, slowly easing their way under the silk top and lifting it from her pert tits. "Damn," Anthony groaned. His hand moved to his trousers where he quickly released the button and drew down the zipper. His boxers jutted out, the hard shaft of his aroused state poked through the slit in the fabric. "You want me to dance on that, Tony?" Reese purred as her fingers released the front clasp of her bra. Her boobs popped free and her hands moved to cup both globes and squeeze them hard. All the while her hips moved seductively and her knees bent so she was thrusting her body forward in a slow erotic dance of sin. "You'll get the best shots this week, if you do," Anthony promised. He pulled his dick out, and his balls. The velvet sack was soon in one of his hands and his cock was gripped firmly in the other. Reese smiled and rose up from her bent knee position. She licked her lips and slid her hands up her skirt, and showed Anthony she had removed her panties before entering his trailer. Her sex glistened in the morning light that streamed through the small windows. She slid a finger inside, gathered some juice and then painted the tips of her breasts with the tangy confection. "Get over here," Anthony groaned out, pulling her toward him and cupping her ass with his hands. Reese moaned and straddled his hips. The head of his cock rubbed against her clit and she hissed as she continued to dance. Her stomach muscles tightened and her breath became ragged as she slid her pussy up and down his rod. She felt the hairs of his balls mingle in the juices of her sex and pushed firmly down, coating his sack with her honey. Anthony hissed and ran his hands up and down her ass, feeling the tight buttocks and squeezing the round spheres as she pumped up and down on his dick. He rolled his hips, urging his dick to slide further between her folds. "Fuck baby," he muttered and then cursed when she rubbed her breasts against his face. "Suck my nipples, Tony. Both of them at the same time," Reese begged, pushing her glorious boobs together and offering them too him. Anthony grabbed them and held them firmly in his grasp, lifted them higher and captured both pearls between his hungry teeth. He gnawed and suckled, pulled and tormented the twins as she placed her hands on his shoulders and rocked her hips. "Put me inside, Reese," Anthony growled out, then returned paying homage to her flesh. One of her hands left his shoulder and wrapped expertly around his shaft. She teased her clit with the spongy head, lifted her hips and then pushed the rod back to the opening of her pussy. "Ooh damn, you're so hot," Anthony hissed out. He released her nipples and leaned his head back. Reese grinned and lowered her body down to his cock, gripping the shaft's length as she settled the full length inside her slippery home. She bit her lower lip and held herself still, allowing him a moment to enjoy the heat of her sex as her juices melted around him. Eventually they both moved, each one knowing it was time to continue the dance she'd offered. Reese ground her body onto his dick and then lifted herself up and plunged herself down. Over and over she repeated the move, slowly riding her way to a climax, only to stall and wait for it to recede. Anthony watched in awe as their bodies mated. He glanced up at her face and saw the thrill of the moment written all over her beautiful features. "Sooo fuckin' hot," he hissed, lifting her tits and going back to admiring them with his tongue and teeth. "Mmm...harder baby. Suck my nipples harder. Bite them. I want them to feel like your ripping them off," Reese grunted, grinding deeper into his pubes. Anthony was more than willing to oblige the hot little number on his lap. He just found it hard to concentrate as her pussy constricted around his meat, milking the blood that flowed through his stiff rod. Reese felt the spongy head of his cock slide lazily along the spot where her fingers often had to stretch uncomfortably to reach. She muttered a curse and pushed down on him again, angling her body so the head pressed continuously against that precious point. "Faster," she commanded in a voice full of need. She lifted and fell, increasing her speed and encouraging him to buck up with her. Anthony felt as if his world was tilting to one side as he increased the rhythm. Soon both of them were covered in a thin sheen of sweat as their bodies worked in a frenzied fuck to bring them closer to the point of no return. Reese knew Anthony was about to come, and she also knew she wasn't about to be a pregnant co-star, so she jumped off his lap and covered his dick with her mouth. She sucked hard, only mildly annoyed her orgasm was now on hold. "Oohh fuck yeah " Anthony said as he watched the brunette suck his pussy-covered shaft. He pushed her head down deeper, tangling his fingers in her curls. Anthony fucked her face, lifting his hips and forcing her to take the full length down her throat. He heard her gag, but felt her nails dig into his thighs, the points marking his body through his slacks. He took that as a sign to keep up the hard thrusting and the forceful downward hold he had on her. Reese felt his seed shoot into her throat and she swallowed quickly; the second shot didn't catch her off guard like the first one did, so she savored the taste, swallowing just as the third sprayed out. She kept her mouth on his tool, milking a few drops and then wrapping her tongue around it so she could properly cleanse his dick. "Mmm...nice baby," Anthony whispered as she popped off his dick and grinned wide. "Now, it's my turn to return the favor." Reese squealed with happiness and moved to sit on the love seat, her legs spread wide. Anthony advanced and the heard the sound of footsteps on his trailer stairs. "Fuck," he grunted out, tucking his cock into his pants and zipping up, just as a hard knock was rapped out on his door. "Who is it?" he shouted, opening the door at the same time. "Hey Tony," Alexia said with a smile. "I was wondering if you've seen Reese, I need to freshen her make-up, before the next shot. It's almost her time." "I'm right here," Reese said, peeking her head out from behind Anthony. "I'm ready, just checking what angles would work best for Anthony. I want to do my best." Reese grinned like a school girl as she scooted around Anthony and bounded down the steps. He shook his head, wondering how women managed to dress so fast when they needed too, and undress so slowly when they were supposed to be stripped fast. He closed the door to the trailer and picked up his phone. Within a few seconds he had called his underlings and arranged to have several shots aimed at Reese and the lighting to flood haphazardly on the Lead, knowing not many shots of the Leading Actress would make it into the scene, but instead litter the cutting room floor. Hollyquirk Studios: Week 02 Susan swept into the room as if she owned it, extending her hand to Max, "Maxwell, it's so good to see you again." Max's eyes absorbed her elegantly chic look. From her perfectly waved shoulder length red hair and her dark blue eyes to her high cheekbones and perfectly shaped full, red mouth. Everything said money. His eyes slid down over her emerald silk blouse to the black skirt that ended just below her knees, revealing stunningly beautiful legs. That's right, he thought, she was a dancer too. Probably what kept her so fit and those legs so toned all her life. Max heard the door shut behind Patience but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the aging beauty before him. She was past her prime but she had an indefinable allure. "Susan, it's always a pleasure." The truth was that he couldn't believe she'd remembered him after being seated next to each other for one evening at a Hollywood dinner party over a year ago. But he smiled and took her hand to lead her over to the couch where she perched, her ankles crossed like a lady. She was elegant, timeless, though she had to be getting on near sixty, Max thought. She didn't look it though. That's what money could buy, luminescent skin and fabulous boobs. Max couldn't decide if it was how beautiful she actually still was or the remembrance of things past. She had surely been every young man's wet dream in her heyday. Even now his cock began to respond to her like a well-trained dog. "Why, Maxwell," she said with a sophisticated chuckle as she laid her hand on his knee. "I don't believe you heard a word I said." Max had the grace to blush as he looked into her deep blue eyes. "I'm simply overwhelmed to have you visit my office." "I was saying that I was only fifteen when I made my first movie." Susan smiled. Max revised his estimate, maybe only fifty-five. Oh, who gives a crap, he thought as her hand squeezed his knee gently. She was stunning for any age. "I'm a household name. Surely my name would be an asset to your movie? I understand that your lead actress walked off the set on you. I'd be more than willing to take her place for you." She shifted closer to Max and her hand slid, oh so slightly, up Max's leg. Susan Swansong, he thought, Susan Swansong is on my casting couch and her hand is inching up my leg toward my dick. It was every director's boyhood dream. He smiled down at her. "I think you would be an incredible asset to our film," he assured her. "I'll have the contracts drawn up immediately." He'd already promised the role to a somewhat younger woman but he didn't give a damn at the moment. Susan smiled up at him and squeezed his knee one more time before standing. "Wonderful, I have an appointment but I'll give your secretary my address to send the pages over," she said and sailed out of the room. Max sat still for a minute. "What just happened?" he asked the empty room. Outside, Susan chuckled. That had been far easier than she had expected. She gave her address to the mousy little secretary then decided to take a walk over to the sound stage where the movie would be shot. She'd just take a little stroll through the place that would soon become the scene of her triumphant return to film. Susan walked into the sound stage and looked around, taking a deep breath. Ah, the smell of fresh wood during set building always exhilarated her. People were busy everywhere, putting the finishing touches on a new piece of scenery. "Hey, watch out there," a deep male voice called and Susan looked up to see a tall man walking toward her. He reminded her of Harrison Ford, with those glinting blue eyes and the cleft in his chin. "Watch your step, there's power cords everywhere," Woody Dickerson got his first good look at her and stopped short. He'd noticed the incredible legs and the high heels that could tangle easily in power cords but hadn't focused on her face until now. "Ms. Swansong, what brings you to our humble set?" Susan took the hand he held out and let him lead her over to the side, out of the away from all the workers. She smiled up at him from beneath her eyelashes. She loved men with big, rough, capable hands. "I'm replacing the lead actress on this movie and I just love to visit the soundstage while the set is being built. It helps get me energized for the movie." "Well, let me show you around," Woody said immediately. He couldn't believe his good fortune. Here was Susan Swansong in the flesh, and what incredible flesh it was! "My name is Woody Dickerson. I'm the Chief Carpenter on the set." "Oh, I could see that you were in charge right away," Susan purred as she took his strong arm to stroll through the soundstage. As they walked, Susan stroked his forearm with her fingertips just below his rolled up sleeve. Woody pointed out the various parts of the set and explained what they were doing but he seemed to be distracted by her hands on his arm. "Do you have a trailer for an office?" she asked as her tour came to an end. "Perhaps you could show me the plans you've drawn up for the set?" "I'd be glad to," he replied eagerly. "It's just across the lot." Once they were inside, Woody hurried to pick up a few things. Susan took the opportunity to turn the lock on the door, making sure that they wouldn't be disturbed. Woody motioned her over to the table where the plans were laid out and she stood close by his side, but her attention wasn't focused on the plans. She reached behind him and slid a well-manicured hand over his tight ass and squeezed. Woody jumped a little. Had she actually just grabbed his ass? Yep, her hand was still there. He felt his dick growing harder by the second. "Fascinating," she remarked casually. "Tell me, do you do work on regular homes? I've been considering an addition to my house." "Yes, yes, of course," he turned toward her and she leaned in to press her mouth to his. She took his hands and pulled them around to her ass then pressed her body to his. She moaned. "Oh Woody, take me... here... now." She felt his big, rough, work calloused hands squeezing her and reached down to squeeze his dick through his jeans. She heard him groan and eased his button open then unzipped the jeans. She slipped his jeans and briefs down to slide her hand around his erection and stroke him. She felt him move and could tell he was kicking off his shoes and the pants around his ankles. Unbuttoning his shirt, Susan felt his big hands reach down and slide her skirt up. She was wearing a garter with stockings but no panties. She'd come prepared to do what she had to with the director but, luckily, it hadn't come to that. She had thought she'd gotten past the casting couch phase of her career when she became a star. It galled her to no end to have to consider getting a part on her back again. Ah, but this... this was just pure fun. She simply adored men who built things with their hands. And here was the perfect specimen, well built himself and ready to please her. She felt his thick fingers sliding through her pubic hair and into her pussy. Oh, the rough calluses on his hands teased her tender flesh and she shuddered. Mmm, he certainly was very capable. She reached up and unbuttoned her blouse to let it fall open, unhooking the front clasp of her black lace bra. Susan pulled his head down to her bosom. Might as well get the most out of these puppies, she'd certainly paid enough for the best man in L.A. to do them. She shivered as Woody's hot mouth met the flesh of her cleavage, his tongue licking and then his mouth sucking greedily at first one tit and then the other. Woody inhaled deeply, enjoying the spicy sophisticated perfume she was wearing. He couldn't believe he was tonguing Susan Swansong's nipples. He'd dreamed about this, literally, from the time he hit puberty. His fingers were buried in her pussy too! That voice, oh that sexy deep voice, how many times had he heard it moan in a movie? Now, she was moaning in his ear. "Fuck me darling, fuck me hard." Susan reached down to guide his thick cock into her and wrapped her still strong dancer's legs around his waist, gasping as he thrust into her. It felt so good to have a man in her again. Susan could have had any man she wanted but that had gotten boring long ago. Somehow, though, she'd never gotten over her addiction to carpenters with rough, calloused hands. It was such a thrill to feel them sliding across her silken skin as his were now, under her blouse. "Oh... yes!" She inhaled the sweaty smell of him mingling with the smell of wood shavings. She felt her orgasm build as her muscles tightened throughout her body then shook as she came. He kept thrusting roughly into her as she urged him on, holding on to his shoulders. Finally, he groaned and she felt him come in her, pulsing his seed deep inside her. Woody kissed her passionately, tasting the coffee on her breath. He didn't want this to end. She felt and smelled so good. It was a dream to him and he didn't want to wake up. She shivered as his rough hands reached up to fondle her breasts. This was an auspicious way to start a new endeavor, Susan decided. Just like old times, though there were advantages to menopause. She could thoroughly enjoy being roughly fucked by her carpenter without fear of pregnancy. She wondered how long this movie would last. Oh well, she could always come up with things for him to work on at her mansion. She smiled and slid her hands over his well-muscled back. This was going to be fun. Hollyquirk Studios: Week 03 As Maxwell McGrath pulled his car through the studio gates, he wished yet again, that he could convince Kara Evercum that, as the director, he deserved a limousine. That way the fanatics picketing the studio wouldn't be able to single him out for praise and abuse. Max still wasn't sure how word had already leaked out about the homosexual soldier angle, especially since the revised script had only crossed his desk the day before. The two groups of protesters were being carefully segregated by the studio security which was currently being augmented by a number of LA's finest. To the right of the studio entrance were representatives from the armed-forces, the Christian Coalition, and apparently the right-to-life society. At least that was the only reason Max could think of for an aborted fetus being on the placard. On the other side of the entrance were more people dressed in uniforms or at least parts of what might have been uniforms. There was a definite military theme to the flamboyant outfits the men were almost wearing. Of course, Dirk hadn't just revised the story to have homosexual soldiers. He had decided that it would make the movie even more modern if the two lead soldiers were women, lesbians of course. Max wondered how Susan Swansong would react to the new role. She had gone from the creampuff role of a wife/soon to be widow, to being a grizzled veteran who takes a raw recruit under her wing and into her bed. But breaking that news would have to wait for next week, when principle photography began. Today was a rehearsal with the stunt crew and the special effects team. They were going to be starting with the soldiers parachuting into battle. When Max entered the soundstage he saw that the crews were already hard at work. Well, they had been hard at work at some point in the day, currently they were horsing around. What first caught Max's eye was the naked woman suspended from the ceiling. She was hanging from a parachute harness with her arms crossed in front of her small taut breasts. Actually, she wasn't quite naked, she seemed to be painted green with white dots. Ilsa Tautfanny was not amused and was busy telling the crew below how not amused she was. It was bad enough that she was stuck twenty feet up in the air, but the crotch of the parachute harness was rubbing against her labia rather cruelly. The sort of cruel friction that always got her incredibly wet. So wet that the green paint that had been covering her pussy was now dripping down the inside of her thighs. And all those guys did was gawk at her instead of giving her a good fucking! From her high vantage point, Ilsa was the first person on the crew to see the director walk on set. She couldn't exactly cover herself at this point, but she was able to get the crews attention and she was soon being lowered to the ground. "What's going on here?" Max exclaimed with barely controlled anger. This was the part of the movie that he thought would actually go smoothly! A few thousand explosions, some soldiers being thrown into the air and torn to pieces, and a couple of people gliding down in parachutes. The head of special effects, Steve Silverwood said, "We're just getting set up for the parachute stunt. We heard that we were going to be having women parachute, so Ilsa volunteered. Did we hear wrong?" "But why is she naked! People don't parachute naked. Especially not while wearing green paint." "That's not green paint." "It sure looks like green paint, with white polka dots." "Nope. That's a painted version of motion capture suit. We use the white spots to keep track of the motions of her arms and legs and nipples, then we use the computer to add in a uniform and we can then swap out Ilsa's face. Come take a look at the monitor." Max followed Steve over to the computer screen which was waiting off to the side. Steve raised one finger in the air and twirled it, signaling his crew to take Ilsa back into the air, much to her chagrin. Soon Ilsa was again dangling twenty feet above the sound stage. The image on the monitor showed something very different. Gone were her long bare athletic limbs, replaced by baggy camouflage fatigues. "The camo was from a World War II flick we were just working on. Since Tragic Tactics is a modern war movie, we were thinking something more like this," Steve said as he taped some commands into the computer. The image flickered briefly to a green painted Ilsa before being replaced with Ilsa in a black form fitting lycra suit. There were red stripes running down the outside of her legs and arms, and a bold gold emblem on her chest. There were also a number of pads covering her body which only seemed to accentuate her feminine shape. Steve called out, "Go ahead and move around a bit, Ilsa. Let him see what the computer can do." The first thing she moved was her tongue, to stick it out at Steve. Then she started moving her arms and legs around. The computer quickly converted her motions, to the motions of the image on the screen. "This is one of my favorites," Steve said and tapped in another command. Instead of the black lycra suit, there was a form-fitting white suit with a rainbow arm band on one arm, and a black band on the other. She was also wearing a tight black belt with an odd looking gun down hanging from it. "I don't get it?" Max said as the image teased at his memories. "How about now?" Steve said as he added a white helmet with red ear pieces. "That's Wilma Deering!" "Yeah, but did Wilma Deering ever do this?" Ilsa called out from her perch. She gracefully raised her legs into splits and used her hands to lift her breasts, as if in offering. The Wilma on the screen mimicked the moves exactly. As her legs came closer to horizontal, a bright pink patch began to show in her crotch. "What's that pink patch?" Max said with a finger poking the screen. Steve looked carefully at the screen then over to Ilsa who was still dangling in midair. "Oh, that's just were the paint's rubbed off a bit. The green paint doesn't get picked up by the camera, so wherever she isn't painted, shows through." "Well, that isn't very good. We can't have her pussy showing through the soldier uniform." "We ordered her a motion capture suit once we learned that we had to double for a woman instead of a man. The suit we have was designed for Hank over there," Steve said as he hooked a thumb towards the towering brute who had doubled Hans Brickhead throughout his career. Max suddenly realized that the script rewrite meant that Hans Brickhead was playing a stay-at-home dad instead of a military vet. "I just realized, I need to talk to a few people about the script rewrite. Let's meet again after lunch," Max said as he quickly headed out of the sound stage. "Alright boys, you heard him, that's lunch," Steve said and began shooing his crew out. In their excitement at getting lunch an hour early, they didn't even realize that Ilsa was still dangling in the air. "Did you forget about me?" she called down to Steve as he was walking towards the large sliding door to the stage. "Nope, I have big plans for you," he said. He through the latch on the door and flipped the "Filming in Progress" light on. With casual deliberation he walked over to the computer monitor and turned it to face Ilsa. The large plasma screen showed her every detail of her improbably clad body. The image flicked to briefly show her what she looked like in the green paint before the new overlay was computed. This time she was dressed in a red and gold top that barely covered her suddenly ample bosom. The outfit was completed by a blue swimsuit bottom with white stars on it. "First Wilma and now Wonder Woman? Did you hit puberty in the seventies?" Ilsa said with a bit of a sneer. She did take the opportunity to lift her breast and watch her super-heroine self's enormous bosom rise to match. She opened her legs lewdly and saw her bright pink pussy expose itself to the computer and leave a gash in the rendering. She started rubbing her clit while watching Wonder Woman frig herself on the monitor. "I've always wanted to fuck a superhero," Steve said and took down his pants. His cock was already incredibly hard and it bounced lewdly as he waddled over beneath her. He grabbed a nearby bench and aligned it below her before lying down on top of it. "Just hold yourself, right like that," he said. With one hand on the hoist remote and the other aiming his cock upward he watched the screen in anticipation. He slowly began lowering her downward with one eye watching her progress and the other on the screen. Soon her wide spread legs and her lewdly gaping pussy were poised directly over his swollen cock. He stopped her descent when she was close enough to feel the heat radiating from him. A single drop of her juices broke free when she came to a halt and landed right on the crown of his member. "Do you want it fast, or slow, baby?" "You know I want it fast, and now! But please go slow." With that, he turned down the speed and she began her descent again. He watched Wonder Woman slowly descend onto his raging cock. Her Amazonian breasts were heaving in anticipation as she descended inch by maddening inch. No matter how much she struggled, the parachute harness kept her from descending any faster. Worse still, the harness was helping to spread her legs apart, preventing her from properly clasping him inside of her. With only another two inches to go, Steve turned off the motor. He loved hearing her moan in frustration. She bounced slightly in the harness, but only managed to lift herself a fraction of an inch. She shook more wildly but couldn't get any more of his cock inside of her. She managed to spin slightly on her cock, but she couldn't get up enough speed for the friction to do her much good. "Please!" she begged. She tried bucking again, but couldn't lower herself any further. She brought her legs down but they were still a few inches off the ground, so she couldn't even lift herself off of him. She was maddeningly half-fucked. She grabbed at the remote, but Steve was ready and held it just out of her reach. "Look at yourself. Wonder-woman, powerlessly impaled on my cock." "You fiend! You'll never get away with this." Steve tried for maniacal laughter, but proved that he was destined for a lifetime of work behind the camera. When Ilsa's frantic movements began to subside, he pushed the release button on the remote. Ilsa suddenly fell the last two inched to be fully impaled on Steve's cock. The sudden fall caused a moment of panic to register in her sex-addled mind, causing all of her muscles to tense. Especially the muscles in her cunt which were being pried apart by his hard invader. The momentary terror, the unexpected ecstasy, and the prolonged teasing that had lead to this moment, flipped a circuit breaker in her mind. Her body thrashed wildly as an orgasm cascaded through her. If it weren't for the harness she would have fallen to the floor, even with Steve's strong hand holding her in place. Steve used the remote to lift the quivering Ilsa a couple of inches upwards. This allowed him room to thrust up into her at his own pace. For the first few strokes he watched her green painted ass as he shoved his cock into her. But as his rhythm picked up its pace, his eyes became riveted to the screen. It really looked like he was fucking Wonder Woman's gash through a tear in her outfit. That thought drove him to the edge far more quickly that he anticipated. As his orgasm shot through his body, he dropped the remote as he grabbed Ilsa's hips and tried to pull her down onto his squirting cock. His first spurt landed deep inside of her, but as he tried to thrust again she pulled out of his grasp. He second spurt landed on his stomach as he watched her still twitching body climb steadily higher. His head sank back onto the bench as his orgasm played its course. He closed his eyes for a few moments as his breathing slowly came back under control. The situation didn't truly register until he felt a cool drop land on his now softened cock. He looked up to see Ilsa dangling in the air thirty feet above him. His semen was dripping out of her and splashing down onto him. Eventually he found the remote and lowered Ilsa back to the ground. She was glaring down at him, clearly unhappy about being hoisted so high, once again. "Sorry baby, I dropped the remote. You know how hot Wonder Woman makes me." She descended into his arms and lay her sweaty brow on his shoulder, "I know, but next time you want to play with Wonder Woman, she's going to use her golden lasso on you." "Promise?" They both started laughing as he helped her undo the fasteners on the harness. "I'm just about worn raw by those straps," Ilsa said as she finally stepped out of the last of the harness. "Don't worry, I'll take you home and kiss it all better. Once we get you out of the motion capture paint." Ilsa grinned and said, "One of these days a director is going to figure out that I already own a motion capture suit." Hollyquirk Studios: Week 04 There went any chances of an Oscar! Dirk liked the idea of taking on the behemoth that was the US military's perception of homosexuals, but the addition of Susan Swansong to the cast turned a dramatic subplot, of gays in the service, into what most of the population will think of as nothing more than a thinly masked porn. Dirk knew Max wasn't any more happy about it than he was. After all, he'd been forced to explain it to the director, but the studio overruled them both. Kara had come straight to him, this time, rather than work through the director with the 'Studio head's' latest brainstorm. She probably just wants to see the two naked and making out! Dirk knew Kara wasn't gay but his rage couldn't help but make the suggestion. His hand reared back and the nine tails of the short whip tangled as the whisked forward. The finely oiled leather slapped against the soft round buttocks and left further pink marks. He superimposed Kara's face, even her entire body, onto the woman tied up on the bed in his trailer. A soft moan of mixed pleasure and pain escaped from that body, which only infuriated him more. Almost of its own accord the cat-o-nine-tails cracked again. This time, the red lines began to swell into welts. The resulting moan held more pain than pleasure which appeased Dirk's frustration slightly. The next strike was just as hard. Cassy whimpered as she tried to turn her head towards him. She didn't dare speak. Dirk had taught her well. They didn't have a safe word, he hadn't asked, and she hadn't the courage to demand one. She trusted him not to damage her. And, he concluded miserably, with good reason. If she gets hurt the truth is more likely to come out. Dirk looked down at the welts, at the tears that glistened at the corners of eyes screwed shut, he realized his own pain. His cock felt like it would burst. But there was a balm to be had. The woman before him lay pressed flat to the bed, by the tightness of the straps that pulled each limb to a different corner of the bed. He pulled the straps so tight that she couldn't even flinch. And between the crosshairs of her legs, she poured need. He tossed the whip under the bed and climbed up behind her. Cassy moaned in frustrated desire. Dirk could see the anticipation rush across her body as he loosened the straps that held her feet. Her knees inched forward to thrust herself towards him, but a sharp tug on her ankles sprawled her against the bed, once more, with a squeak. "I didn't tell you to move bitch!" He knew she had to fight the urge to apologize, and almost wished she had lost. Nimble hands, most at home on a keyboard, grasped her strong hips and lifted. Cassy's legs dangled slightly. Dirk's knees slid beneath her, to support her weight. He brushed against her sopping lips and her moan was louder. He grinned and shoved forward roughly. The straps caught and bit into her ankles as he pushed her into the air. Cassy gasped slightly, in pain. She felt him push against the very back of her depths, even as he seemed to press outwards against the rest of her body all at once. Dirk jerked back and slammed forward again. This time, the short scream mixed as much pleasure as pain. Her body softened to the intrusion. Back he pulled and drove deeper. Her screams lengthened with each thrust. Dirk loved to take Cassy from behind. Partly it was the fact that her tight depths swallowed every inch and strained for more. Partly, he knew it hurt her a little each time he drilled into her. But mostly, in this position, only her brown hair betrayed that it wasn't Kara. He closed his eyes and imagined he rode the executive producer as hard as she rode his scripts. Dirk growled. He had grown a little soft. Cassy's screams held too much pleasure. Without the slightest break in his harsh rhythm, his thumbs began to slide across her butt. He traced the red lines of her welts. With just that light touch, whimpers returned to her screams and he felt himself harden slightly. His hands slid quickly upward as he threw his entire body forward. His fingers clutched into her damaged flesh. His body spread her legs up and wide, even as the straps yanked at her ankles. Her face buried into a pillow as she screamed. There were too many different pains. He swelled larger than before and felt the rush surge through his body as he exploded. His tempo became erratic as his body jerked through his orgasm. But if his timing faltered, his intensity only increased with each pained scream. Finally, he held himself deep inside her for a few seconds before he collapsed heavily on top of her. He didn't notice her whimpers as his body pressed against her welted butt. Dirk's head jerked up. He was never quite sure how, but he knew Kara was on her way. He always knew. It was one of the only reasons he hadn't been caught, well, that and the fact that Cassy was submissive enough to obediently hide their affair. He jumped off the bed and yanked open the cuffs that held her down. His speed let Cassy know that she needed to move quickly and be gone. So while he slipped the bindings underneath the bed, still attached to the four corners, she limped sorely over to gather and don her clothes. As Dirk watched Cassy limp out of the trailer, he began to grow hard once more. He glanced down and his grin turned sour. He had to clean that quickly. Kara might be oblivious to a lot of things, but she'd smell that for certain! He rushed to the small sink, pulled a washcloth and soap and began to scrub himself clean. It hurt slightly, which softened him once more and made it all the harder to clean. He might enjoy pain, but it was the inflicting not the receiving he liked. The trailer door opened while he was still at the sink. He knew who it was, but threw the washcloth in the trash and leaned forward heavily against the sink. He growled without turning around. "What now!?" Only his head turned to see the response. After a second he softened his expression to apologetic; just long enough to supposedly recognize he had snapped at his love. At first Kara looked shocked by his tone. Then, as she saw his expression change, and noted his nudity and location, her eyes shifted to pity. She hurried over to Dirk and wrapped her arms lovingly around his shoulders. "I'm sorry hun! I didn't mean to just barge in, but I wanted to make sure you were okay." He shuddered slightly in pleasure as her hands began to glide down his chest. "I know the latest batch of changes was especially hard on you. Personally I liked the gay male angle much better, but the studio didn't want it to be just another Brokeback, and thought they could tackle two controversial issues with lesbians." Dirk had to contain his smile as Kara's hands slipped lower to cup and fondle his soft cock. She gently began to stroke life back into it while the other hand drifted down to fondle his balls. She leaned forward, on the tips of her toes, and nibbled on his earlobe before she whispered to him. "I think I know how I can relieve some of that tension." Dirk felt her body press against his as she drifted down; from the tips of her toes to kneeling. She held his hips and guided him to turn around. He immediately leaned back, with his hands on either side of the sink, and shut his eyes. This was what he liked most about his continued relationship with Kara. Now that the movie was underway, he didn't really need her connections, but she was good in bed ~when he wanted it vanilla~ and she gave the single best blowjob he'd ever gotten. That it seemed to be her automatic method of apology only improved his considerations. Warm lips glided slowly down the short length until they met the sparse curls as she pressed against his groin. Dirk groaned as his skin began to tingle. Kara sucked in quickly. This, he knew, was one of the greatest secrets to her skill. She always started when he was limp. She had even worked him with her hands, just so he would cum quickly and grow soft enough for her to use her mouth. He loved the sensation as he swelled inside that hot, wet, mouth. Unfortunately, most woman pulled away, instinctively, as a guy grew. She never flinched, but rather sucked harder. He gripped the sink as he grew to full length, to fill Kara's soft mouth and press against the back of her throat. "MMMmmmmmmmmmm!" Her groan released a stronger sound from Dirk as the vibration of her voice seemed to echo straight into every nerve of his body. Dirk's body shook, and he clutched the sink harder. He never could figure out what Kara did, but it felt like she meticulously worked his tip, even as she swallowed him whole. In moments, as she paused her own sounds of enjoyment only long enough for quick breaths, he knew he was about to explode. He felt his balls constrict as the inferno raced upward. It was the only warning she would get. Kara sucked greedily as his hips jerked uncontrollably. He didn't know if she liked the taste, or simply the pleasure she brought to him. He didn't care, as long as it meant she continued as long as she did. Her lips pressed more firmly against him and sucked harder. Dirk's elbows and knees buckled beneath the unbelievable sensation. He never got used to it, and hoped he never would. Kara's arms wrapped around his hips to cup his butt. Her arms, strengthened by years of yoga, Tai Bo, and numerous other workout regimes, managed to hold him against the sink as he screamed in ecstasy. Finally, after she gulped a second helping, he ran dry again. Kara lowered Dirk to the ground, where he immediately curled into a ball. He watched her, from the ground, as she stood up and checked her makeup in the mirror. Her tongue glided across her soft lips. "Mmmmm. You've been using vanilla body soap!" That explained both why she hadn't tasted the earlier session and why she drained him a second time. Kara reacted to vanilla like most women dreamt of chocolate. He managed to uncurl, but his voice only croaked out. "I knew you liked it, so I thought you might like me to smell like vanilla." If I knew you'd react like that I would have bought it a long time ago! The truth was, Dirk had only grabbed the bottle because it had been on sale. He hadn't even realized what scent it was. Kara looked down at him, as he lounged on the floor, as if she had read his thought. From the sparkle in her eyes, she would gladly repeat the performance if he continued to use the soap. "So, you feeling a little more relaxed?" Dirk just nodded dumbly. He loved his life! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Max hated the new script. The only advantage to it was that it was getting harder for Tony to screw with the shots in favor of Reese. His 'big break' would now be into the porn industry. Correction! 'Adult films.' If he was going to be working there he'd have to get the PC term right, after all. Max tried to collapse into the leather chair behind his desk. It didn't matter how comfortable the chair was, he would be in pain. It was getting worse and he knew he had months of shooting left with no end in sight. He'd spent all day filming just one of the three lesbian love scenes. He'd scheduled it early in the week as a way to get everyone used to the new dramatic elements and spaced the other two over the course of the entire shoot in the hopes that he could convince someone to cut back the number of scenes. Now, more than ever, he desperately needed less of them. For an entire day he'd watched Reese and Susan paw and grope each other in front of the camera and snipe away the moment the shot was finished. At this point, he didn't know which had turned him on more. But if this kept up, he'd have to find a hooker. Hell, there was a medical term for an erection that lasted this long! And that didn't even factor in the perpetual state of blue-balls! Max gave up with the chair and crossed over to the still-virgin couch. He looked over, as someone opened the door. When he saw the triple-D breasts and brown hair push a tray through the doorway he groaned. He collapsed onto the couch as Cassy walked in. Yet another enticing woman he couldn't possess. He noticed Cassy's walk was strained. Max studied her for a moment with an artist's eyes and realized that she favored her crotch as she walked. No, not just that but her hips as well. It was as if everything about her pants hurt her. And they weren't even particularly tight. "Get your fucking eyes off of me or I swear to God I'll cut off that pathetic excuse for a dick and use it to blind you!" Max jumped as he realized not only that he'd been openly staring, but how it looked combined with his reaction to the day's filming. His eyes snapped to hers and he mumbled out an apology. He had no interest in the woman, honestly. He had realized the truth of her immediately. She was weak. Worse, she was afraid of her own weakness and covered that with a facade of utter indomitability. Even still, he wondered who she had abused enough to break him into riding so hard that she actually worked herself raw. If she'd done that to herself, whoever 'he' was would be out of commission for days. Max hoped it was someone from a different set, after all they couldn't afford even the slightest delay at this point. Unfortunately, he knew his luck would have it be Hans, or someone else equally irreplaceable. Cassy spun away and stormed out of the room. Max sighed and used a foot to pull the cart over to him. He lifted the cover on the tray and smiled thankfully. He knew it was silly, but with complete impunity for selection of his dinner, he still ordered mac and cheese. It was comfort food, and he needed all the comfort he could get. Long, dirty-blond, hair peered around the corner of his door, followed a moment later by round, brown eyes. Max smiled and finally seemed to settle into the embrace of the couch. She was always the calm center of his day. "Mr. McGrath?" He waved her in and ushered her into the chair on the near side of the desk. Once she sat, he waved towards the dinner but she shook her head. "Patience, how long have we known each other?" "Just under three years Mr. McGrath." "Patience, what I'm trying to say is, you've known me for a long time now. You're my personal assistant. Hell, you're about the only thing that keeps me sane! Please, for the love of God, call me Max!" Patience looked down and blushed. It actually looked quite fetching on the young woman. Although she weighed more than the stick figures that paraded around as starlets, it looked quite good on her. And the deep blush accented her soft, round, cheeks. He'd asked her before to call him Max, but so far it hadn't worked. "Now, is there something I can do for you Patience?" "Well, Mr...Max," miracle of miracles, "I couldn't help but hear Cassy grumbling when she left." Max's expression darkened slightly, but he continued to look at her expectantly. "To put it kindly, she claimed you were undressing her with your eyes." Max sighed. "Patience, I wasn't. I don't know what her problem is, but for once I'm innocent. I was looking her over, but only because..." It was Max's turn to falter. He didn't have Patience's ability to soften his words without first thinking about it. "Well, she looked sore. And I couldn't help but notice." Patience nodded. Max got the impression that she knew exactly who Cassy had broken to her will, but he simply didn't want to know so he didn't ask. His theory was confirmed by the way her own expression darkened. "Can I offer you some advice Mr...Max?" He nodded. "You don't have to be Hollywood. You'll have more, uh, luck if you just try to be yourself." Patience's face had turned bright crimson and her eyes now refused to meet his. He knew exactly what she was talking about. If anyone around here actually knew about his sex life, or lack thereof, it was Patience. He smiled and nodded. "You want to go get a drink or something? It's been a long day and I think I need to get out of here." Patience smiled and finally looked back into his eyes. She understood that there hadn't been any overtures in his invitation, just simple friendship. "I'm sorry Mr., Max, I can't." The smiled broadened and he knew her excuse by the glow of her cheeks and twinkle in her eyes. "I have a date!" Max's smile broadened. "That's great to hear. Who's the lucky guy? It is a guy, isn't it? Shit! It could be a girl." Patience stood and put a hand on his shoulder. "It's a guy. His name's Jackson. He's one of the Pas." Max had to think about the virtually faceless drones who were the worker bees of the industry. "Arseton?" She nodded. He seemed like a good enough kid. He was just out of college, which put him at her age, and seemed driven to make it in the industry. He reached up to place a hand comfortingly on hers. "Well, Ms. Serenity, I hope the two of you have a wonderful time!" Patience smiled and waved as she rushed from the room. Max simply shook his head and collected his dinner. As he moved over to his desk, he wondered how he had ever found her. With everything that fell apart around him, she somehow managed to keep his schedule, not to mention his life, in order. Mr. Arseton was certainly the lucky one. Max lifted the fork to his mouth just in time for the phone to ring. It clattered back to the bowl untouched. "Max McGrath speaking." "Max?" Shit! Not only was he beginning to dread the sound of Kara's voice, but she sounded even more harried than usual. "Dirk you still there?" Dirk responded from the third side of a three-way call and Max's heart plummeted. "There's a problem. With the polls most decidedly turned against Iraq, the studio has decided to make some more changes." Max's blood turned to ice. Dirk was already swearing on the other end of the line. This can't be happening! It simply can't! "Two words for you boys. 'Gang war.'" Max's forehead hit the desk, hard! * This is the fifth chapter of a chain. I highly encourage you to follow the other misadventures as the studio tries to produce 'Tragic Tactics.' If you enjoyed the story, please tell your friends, and most especially, please vote. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy the rest of the chain. Copyright April 2007, by Deathlynx Hollyquirk Studios: Week 05 Reese tossed her hair and smiled at the camera as she ran her tongue across Susan's belly and made her way toward the woman's breasts. Once their she glanced up to her "lover" and sighed wistfully. To everyone looking Reese was the epitome of a woman deeply in love with the older woman beneath her. To Susan, the woman who lay under the young nubile body, the green orbs spoke of hate and restrained venom. "And cut!" "About fuckin' time," Reese hissed as she leapt off Susan and demanded a bottle of water. "Jesus fuckin' christ! I told you not to wear that vile crap you call lotion!" She sucked on the sparkling confection, gurgled and then spit the contents of her mouth out onto the set's concrete floor. Susan's laughter could be heard as she made her way off the set. Reese spun around and started after her. A firm grip on her arm brought her up short and she turned to glare hotly at her real lover, Anthony Longslide, the production teams Head Cinematographer. "What?!" she hissed, jerking her arm away. "You need to take a chill pill, Reese. Susan's just looking for ways to make you look bad on film. She'll paint herself with skunk oil if it makes your face contort on camera. Settle down," Anthony demanded, once more grabbing her arm with one hand and handing her a robe with the other. Before she had the sash tied he was leading her off the set and toward his trailer. "Do this for me. . .if you aren't going to do it for yourself." Reese sighed, her shoulders slumped in defeat and her lower lip trembled. "But Tony. . .she tasted really nasty." Anthony rolled his eyes. He highly doubted the famous Susan Swansong "tasted really nasty." If anything she was probably one hell of a lover; Age had a way of doing that to a person and if it wasn't for the fact he liked the image of fucking a young uprising star like Reese, he'd have tried to bang Susan too. Once they reached Anthony's trailer, Reese was in his arms. He kissed her hard, pushing her against the door and running his hands up and down her slim torso till he was ready to cup her breasts and mash them together. Her fingers came up, curled around his shirt and much to his surprise, she pushed him away. "Not now," Reese said, her voice dropping to a tone that spoke of sorrow and disappointment. "We need to talk." Anthony frowned, dropped his hands and stepped away. He knew this conversation was coming, but he didn't want to deal with it. He wanted to simply keep fucking Reese senseless and deal with the whole camera time behind the scenes. More and more it was becoming apparent that someone, probably Max, had stepped in and started demanding that Susan get the better shots. His deal with Reese was unraveling and he was at a loss as to how to make her shots more noteworthy than Susan's. "Susan's too good, Anthony. . .and not in the way you think." She rolled her eyes, tied the sash to her robe and plopped down on the couch. "She's getting the best lighting, the best shots, the best lines. . .How many people do I need to fuck to get a head in this film?" Her lips formed a pout that belied the real rage that was boiling under the surface. "Are you fucking others?" Anthony asked. His fingers curled against the edge of his desk as he thought of all the times he and Reese had been screwing and if she'd come to him after giving her goods to someone else on the set. Susan didn't count. . .it was business. Besides, he benefited from the sex scenes Susan and Reese did. Reese may not admit it, but by the time the director called "cut" Reese was hot and bothered. "No," Reese answered truthfully. "I wouldn't know who to screw. I mean. . .do you know who would be best to fuck? I know you can't control everyone, but surely you can do a little more. Can't you? For me?" Her lashes fluttered as she opened her legs and ran her fingers up and down her thighs. Just as Anthony was about to lurch forward a knock sounded on the door. "What?" he shouted back, his eyes never leaving the path of sin that Reese's fingers were traveling. "Dad. I got that footage you wanted," a call came back through the metal of the door. Anthony rolled his eyes toward the Heaven's and shook his head. He stepped toward the door and opened it. At the same time, Reese rested her hands on her lap, her robe now demurely closed. Brandon Longslide walked in and glanced at the actress on the couch. Immediately his face grew red and his voice cracked. "Hello Miss Willingfuck." "Brandon," Reese said with a smile. She stood up and walked toward him. The lapels of her room dipped suggestively lower with each graceful move she made. "What footage do you have? And why? I thought you were working with the caterer." "Dad got me a job as a camera guy. Nothing major. I don't get to take shots of the action, but I do get to take some still shots of scenery and shit," he licked his lips, "umm excuse me. Scenery and other things." Reese giggled and wrapped her arm around Brandon's waist, pulling him toward the couch. "Brandon, I've heard curse words before. I'm young, but I'm not a prude like some people in this movie. So you're working the camera now?" She glanced at Anthony and lifted one brow. He answered back with a firm shake of disapproval. Reese only shrugged as she pressed her palm against Brandon's chest. "Are you any good?" she asked, her gaze shifting from son to father. "That's what the footage is for. Dad said he'd move me to the action scenes if I delivered some quality shi. . stuff for him." "Well, Daddy," Reese emphasized the title, "is Brandon any good?" She snickered at the pun as she slipped to the couch and nestled close to Brandon. Anthony muttered a low curse. He knew what was going to happen and he also knew he had to accept it or he'd loose his young fuck. He pursed his lips. "I've got no doubt at all that Brandon's good; he is his father's son." "Thanks," Brandon squeaked out as he felt Reese's breast press against his arm. He swallowed the lump in his throat and felt his slacks growing tighter than they had been upon entering the trailer. "Good. Perhaps then we should discuss what shots Brandon would benefit from the most," Reese suggested as she ran one finger along the young man's jaw. Anthony sighed. "Brandon, you're about to be introduced to the behind the screen practices that make a movie run smoothly." Brandon's brows furrowed, but then rose as Reese stood up and removed her robe. "Uh. . .I've huh. . .well. . ." "Shut up Brandon," Anthony muttered as he watched Reese kneel in front of his son and begin to unbutton the man's pants. "She's ours to use if we give her the best shots as well as arrange the lighting. Do that and well. . .Reese will teach you all sorts of things." Reese giggled and then plunged her mouth down onto Brandon's full cock. She sucked hard, forcing Brandon to grip the couch cushions for stability. His hips instinctively lifted and Reese continued to go down on him. Her vigorous appetite for stardom drove her onward and her tongue wrapped around the head of Brandon's dick. Anthony watched her bob up and down his son's tool. His own package was thickening and his hand rubbed mindlessly at his crotch. "Not bad is it, son?" he asked. His voice was growing thick with lust as Reese's moans vibrated around the room. He knew what his son was feeling. He'd been rewarded with those muscles of Reese several times. He was very much aware of how her teeth grazed the sides of a dick with just the right amount of pressure. The way she sucked the full length of a man's cock down made his balls jump in anticipation. "No, Dad. Not bad at all," Brandon grunted out. One of his hands left the couch and went into Reese's hair. He petted it and then moaned as she hummed a tune around his shaft. "Ffffucckk." Reese shifted her position, never once losing the hold on Brandon's cock. She used her dancer's body to bend over and lift her ass into the air. Her rear wiggled and one of her hands went to her pussy, where it became lost in the slick folds of her sex. Anthony needed no other invitation. Reese's mouth was preoccupied. Her pussy was full of long, slim digits and that meant there was only one place that Anthony needed to fill. He reached in his desk drawer and pulled out the warming lubricant. Soon his pants and boxers were around his ankles and his cock was glistening with oily dew. He squirted a liberal amount of Reese's anus and pushed in some of the goo into the tight entrance. Brandon's eyes were fluttering close, but widened when he realized what his Dad was about to do. He licked his lips and blinked as he watched his Father open Reese's cheeks. The sounds coming from the woman sucking him off changed. Her moans grew lower and longer, and were followed by what Brandon assumed were short gasps of both pleasure and pain. In time she seemed to relax and Brandon knew his Father was now buried deep inside the woman's dark cavity. Soon the three of them were moving in a natural rhythm. Reese sucked with passion as she toyed with her pussy and pushed back to welcome every inch of Anthony's cock. Anthony was holding her hips and drawing himself in and out, letting her feel his head try and free itself from her tight hole, only to be plunged in again. Brandon was on a cloud. His hips were rolling, grinding, and thrusting into the Supporting Actress's mouth. Brandon exploded first. His head lolled to the side as his body jerked and his balls emptied. His throaty growl was the only noise he made as he felt Reese's lips tighten further and her muscles contract around him. The sensation of her creating a perfect seal only added to his pleasure and he emptied a second volley into her mouth. When a shout of triumph echoed through the trailer, Brandon's eyes opened and he watched his Father's face grow rigid as well as his body. He heard and felt Reese moan in delight. Easily he put one and one together, came up with two, and knew his Dad was filling the young woman's ass with cream. Reese clenched the cock buried deep inside her with the strength of a dancer's hard formed muscles and pumped her fingers in and out of her pussy. She clenched her eyes tight as stars shattered apart behind her lids. Her scream was muffled as liquid silk flowed down her pussy and cascaded around her palm, sliding down her arm and dripping to the floor. She shuddered several times, before gliding her mouth from Brandon's dick and releasing the vise like grip on his Dad's cock. The three of them relaxed and breathed deep the aroma of sex. Brandon gazed at Reese as she crawled onto the couch and nuzzled his neck. His Father staggered to his desk chair and plopped down on it. A soft knock on the door, stirred Anthony from the reclined position and he zipped up, lifted his hand to his lips, signaling that the others were to be extremely still and quiet. "I'll get rid of them," he assured his son and their lover. Anthony gave himself a mental shake, tucked in his shirt and opened the door, just enough so he could peer out. "Heather," he said, staring at one of the camera operators. "Can I help you?" "I'm looking for Brandon," she admitted. "I thought I saw him come in here awhile ago, but I left and I'm not sure if he's still here or not, but I can't find him. I was going to help him with some tricks of the trade." Suddenly Reese was pushing Anthony away from the door, her robe tied loosely. "Heather Cummingham, right?" she asked. "Yes," Heather answered, "Sorry if I've disturbed you and Mister Longslide. I was just. . ." "You work with the cameras right?" Reese asked. "Yes," the young woman answered. Anthony stared down at Reese's face and shook his head. "Come in, Miss Cummingham," and for the second time that day Anthony said, "you're about to be introduced to the behind the screen practices that make a movie run smoothly." Hollyquirk Studios: Week 06 Susan Swansong's blue eyes twinkled with sorrow and apology as she locked gazes with Hans. Her hand already rested lightly on his cheek, but it slowly dropped away from his face as she backed towards the door. Her hand fell away when she surpassed her reach and it was as if that physical connection was all that gave her the courage to bear the sight of his sorrow. She turned and fled the house, as tears streamed down her face. The camera pulled in tight on Hans, confusion and fear written across his expression. Max McGrath sliced his hand across his throat and the assistant director du jour caught the signal. "And that's a wrap for the day folks!" Sparse cheers erupted around the sound-stage. Susan took advantage of the applause and bowed, but few paid much attention. Hans was too busy with a very ardent extra, Tiffany Tufts. Max ached as he remembered those willing lips wrapped around his length. She'd never come back to finish the job. Why should she? She'd gotten what she wanted from him. Now she was going for the tabloid angle. Some shots of her and Hans had already appeared. A couple more and she'd have a supporting role of her own by the time this film ended. Max barely noticed her today, however. Ten feet away was a very young woman, a stranger who had spent virtually the entirety of the final shoot of the day with doe eyes locked on him. He leaned over towards his ever present shadow, Patience, in inquiry. His assistant knew instantly what he needed to know and whispered just loud enough for him to hear. "Her name's Aggie Joe. She's the winner of the Sunburst Soda 'Hollywood or Bust' contest." In this case, Max thought, it's Hollywood and bust! The woman had the girl next door look. She wasn't too thin or too overweight. Her shoulder length, black, hair held a slight bob to it, and her round, brown, eyes virtually sparkled as she watched him. The only thing that broke with the girl next door image were her breasts. She might not be that much bigger than average, but he'd never seen any that large, and that perky, without serious cosmetic work. Without leaning away he continued the interrogation of his assistant. "If she won the contest, that means she's eighteen right?" He couldn't ignore the pointed look Patience sent him. Even if he didn't exactly see it, he knew it was there. "Don't give me that, it's the scene in a strip club. She might not be on stage in it, but if she isn't old enough we might have legal issues." In truth, he wouldn't mind if he could put her in the background as one of the dancers. "Yes, she's eighteen. Though I think there was some confusion about her age and the contest entry. Her birthday was the day of the contest drawing, so there was a week or so of confusion if she technically qualified. In the end they said she did and flew her down here." Max didn't know how Patience knew what she did. He'd barely been told of the contest, much less the specifics of the winning entry. But that was one of the many reasons he couldn't live without Patience. He knew he didn't thank her enough, so he turned and flashed her an appreciative smile as he waved the other young woman over. Patience rewarded him with an embarrassed look that soured slightly a moment later. The reason for the distaste was the way that Aggie virtually skipped her way over. It wasn't that she was jealous of the girl, simply that Max knew Patience read his mind. Athletic legs and bouncing breasts brought one thing intensely to his mind. And why shouldn't it. It'd been over two months since he'd gotten any. He'd tried going out after work, but failed miserably to pick anyone up. He'd even tried to hire a professional, unfortunately, right before they started her pimp broke in and the two proceeded to steal all him money. He'd been fortunate in that he had left his car at the lot or they would have gotten that too. Max knew that Patience thought of sex as something that was only shared as the most intimate extension of the deepest of loves. He still hadn't figured out how she could bear to hang around the set with him. For Christ's sake, they could hear Hans building towards orgasm even now from where he and Tiffany hid in the set's 'bedroom.' Undoubtedly Patience believed the tripe in the tabloids about the two being soul mates and having eyes only for each other. He knew Tiffany slept around, and if Hans didn't, he was a bigger moron than even Max thought. Max turned his attention back to his assistant. "I'll catch you tomorrow, alright Patience?" It was a dismissal and they both knew it. Her smile, though respectful, held a hint of disappointment, but she nodded and turned away. Hey, she can hold out on Arseton all she wants, but I need to get some, and soon! "Mr McGrath?" Max's beamed as he turned back to the very young, very attractive extra that had been thrust on him by the studios. Now, if only he could do some thrusting of his own. "I'm actually a big fan of yours!" Before he could even muster a skeptical or concerned look, she hurried on. "I know, you haven't done much aside from commercials, but I saw the P-Teen videos and thought they were so good I Googled to see who directed them!" Max mentally smacked his head. How could he have missed that connection before? Of course they'd gone with gang wars! About a third of the videos he'd directed had been for the rapper P-Teen. They figured he had experience with inner city scenes. Unfortunately, they'd forgotten his cast was about as white as the fence that Huck Finn had painted. Dirk and Max had teamed up to get the powers that be to accept a suburban environment for their final brainstorm. Max stood and extended a hand to the honorary extra. "I'm glad you liked them. Although I have to admit that they're most P-Teen's vision. I only rounded off the rough edges and filled in the technical terms for him. Aggie took his hand in a very soft shake. "Still incredibly modest about them I see. My friends all said that was your publicist, but I was convinced it's what you truly thought." Her left hand landed on his shoulder and trailed down his arm. At the same time her right hand released from his. Somehow, her fingers brushed against his palm and sent electric signals directly to places that had nothing to do with a supposedly chaste handshake. "Well, uh, Miss Joe," Max tried to begin but found himself focused on her chest. With a tremendous act of will, he pulled his eyes back to hers. "How would you like to get a peek at the scene we're shooting tomorrow? The actors have it already, of course, so it's not like it's a secret. But you might be interested in knowing what you'll be doing. It's only as an extra really, but it's mostly about bragging rights and whatnot." Max knew he babbled, but she seemed to find it endearing. "I'd love to! It'll help me get ready for tomorrow." She glanced at the small table next to him, and the script half hidden by a paper plate. "Is the script in you office?" Somehow, Max resisted the urge to pump his hand in victory. It would look far too childish for his demeanor. But it would have aptly demonstrated how he felt. In fact, blood began to drain into his cock. He placed a hand on the small of her back and waved the other in the direction of his office. Aggie looked over her shoulder and smiled coyly. As she turned, to follow his directions, her hips slid across his lust. The coy look changed to determination. His hand migrated from the small of her back to the curve of her waist as they walked. Although he didn't disapprove, the shift was not Max's idea. It was a response to her change of position. Where he had started by guiding from beside her, she'd moved in front of him. Now, she had maneuvered herself so that his bulging pants fit comfortably against her ass. Every synchronized step they took rubbed against him. By the time they reached his office, it was all he could do to keep himself from tearing her clothes off and throwing her against the door. Instead, Max managed to take a dignified seat behind his desk. When he leaned back and tossed the script on his desk, she spun around the obstruction and sat on his lap. As she wiggled into a more comfortable position, he feared he would burst before he even got out of his pants. She spun on his lap to face him. He shuddered in response and once more nearly came. The doe eyes had returned with a look of pure innocence. "What scene is it going to be?" He managed to gasp out the page number and she spun back to the desk with the same results. Max had had enough. If something didn't change, he was about to get himself, his clothing, and likely her flowing skirt, all very messy. "Will you excuse me? I think I have to go to the bathroom." She blinked innocently, but stood just enough to let him up. The moment the seat was vacant, she settled in. Max didn't get far. After half a step, he found her fingers curled into his belt loops. Aggie spun his hips to face her. "Wait, please?" Max relented. Without her pressed against him, virtually surrounding him with her hot body, he wasn't as close to climax. "The header says the scene's in a strip club? Am I going to be a patron or a dancer?" Max was acutely aware of the level of her eyes. Although locked on his, and feigning purity and innocence, he knew every ounce of her attention was right before her face. He could practically feel her watch the slight twitches that surged through his dick. He had to swallow twice before he answered. "A patron." Max swore moisture began to collect on her lower eyelids. He'd seen cartoons that made it look more realistic, but he had to admit it got her point across. She's be happier to be one of the dancers. She moved and started to stand. Her chest pressed forward into his groin. As she stood, he once again reached the verge of climax. When she stopped, her hips pressed to his. Aggie took Max's hands and placed them on her hips. It didn't take any more encouragement for him to clutch her and pull her tighter against him. Instead, she peeled his hands free, lowered them on her leg, and reconnected them. The moment he began to grip she slid his hands to her waist. In his shock, he never let go of her skirt, but that was the point. He'd raised it nearly half a foot. He quickly began to gather the remaining two feet upward even as she began to fumble with his belt. The entirety of her thighs came into view at the same time his zipper slid down. Gravity took control of his pants at the same moment he got his first glimpse of her milky white sex. The fact that she was shaved smooth only added to her incredibly youthful appearance. Even still, as he looked down her body, at the revealed lust, her breasts gave lie to that impression. He continued to hold the skirt up with one hand while the other reached for the buttons of her blouse. When his fingers slipped between the two front halves, he realized the shirt was far thicker than expected. Was it possible? His arm yanked backward and buttons flew at random. Aggie shuddered in appreciation of the destructive power that had just been vented against her. Max simply stared at the miracle. The fabric had been thick enough to mask the fact that she didn't wear a bra! Her boobs really were that perky, and formed the wondrous cleavage without the extra aid. Aggie's hands hadn't been idle. They slipped beneath the band of his boxers to surround the rock hard form within. One hand shifted to cup his silky balls while the other slowly explored the entire length of his manhood. Between the deep growl that erupted from his chest and the dark glare in his eyes, she knew the next time she did that it better be buried inside of her. One leg lifted so that her knee could hook around Max's hip. The tip of his member slipped out of his fly, at Aggie's direction, and glided towards her now spread legs. His eyes half closed as he felt her drenched folds begin to surround him. He needed to lift her somehow to actually plunge inside her, but just to feel her cream slide across him was a balm of sorts. It meant his long fast was about to be broken. Then, just as the thought sprung to mind, an unfamiliar song pierced the air. Aggie jumped back and lunged for her bag. Max fell forward. He managed to catch his desk and keep himself from collapse. It wasn't his balance that depended on her, but rather the weight of his need. As Aggie jabbered furiously into her cell phone, her cum, which had been a balm seconds before, now seemed to burn into him. Aggie flipped the phone shut with an embarrassed smile. "I'm so sorry Mr. McGrath! That was my BFF Katie, you know, she's who I brought with, to be in the movie as well? Well, she's in a serious 911 sitch at the club, so I gotta go!" She slid forwards too quickly for him to react. Once more her felt himself clutched by her delicious and slick folds. "I know we'll finish this tomorrow. After it's a wrap, you'll be wrapped." As she finished with a suggestive purr, she quickly ran from the room. One hand straightened her skirt, while the other held her purse to her chest and discreetly held her shirt closed. Max screamed in frustration as he ran for the bathroom. He knew he'd lost another chance, after all, the studio and Sunburst Soda had a full schedule for her after tomorrow's shoot. He'd be lucky to notice her as she was whisked off the set to some other event. Less than a minute later Max left the bathroom much more relaxed. Unfortunately, that had less and less effect each time he did it. There were too many stimuli around, and many of them actively taunted him. Max stopped cold in his tracks, his zipper still at half mast. Kara Evercum sat sprawled on his as-of-yet-un-christened couch. "Don't stop zipping on my account. You certainly don't need that around me. Though maybe I should just put you out of your misery." Max felt the slightest bit of life pulse back into him. Despite their tenuous working relationship, Kara was a very attractive woman. The suggestion that she'd be interested in him, pity-fuck or not, held merit. Unfortunately, he knew he'd never get it. "You want to? Be my guest. I think I got a gun in the desk somewhere." Kara laughed bitterly. "This is turning into something of a clusterfuck ain't it? What's the most recent on your side?" Max sighed and flopped back into the chair behind his desk, once more fully zipped and belted. "Where to start? Something's up with the shots. Tony keeps losing all of the good footage of Susan whenever Reese is in the scene. If it weren't for the fact that Susan has far more total screen time, we'd have to bill Reese as lead. Exactly what she want's I'm sure. I finally seem to get a handle on that and all the sudden the entire camera crew seems to be in on it." "Brandon I'd understand. But what's she doing, screwing the whole damn crew?" They both laughed. The concept was ludicrous to both of them. "That's another thing, nepotism isn't high on my list of mortal sins. Frankly I don't care one way or another, provided the person knows their job. And Brandon seems to. But we have to watch out, what with the other problems going on." Max sighed. "That all?" Max glanced at Kara. He wondered why she seemed to really want to hear the litany of problems that had erupted. He chuckled and figured it was her choice. "Not even the tip. We're weeks behind schedule and nearly a million over budget already, but you knew that. Reese and Susan are fighting like rabid cats, the whole diva thing. For some reason the sets are taking much longer then they should. I don't understand that either. Dickerson's a good man. Reliable! But something's gotten him all flustered. Catering's now refusing to go near the trailers because of Dirk. Only Cassy will brave it, and she throws tantrums and disappears for hours on end. The FX and stunt departments are all but on strike for God only know what reason..." "It's a combination of the budget tracking and script changes." Kara cut in. "They've gone over their entire allotted budget for the movie already. Each time the script changes, they've had to get fresh equipment and the studio has made me question their spending. I think I should have things under control now. I'm shifting much of what they've spent into other budgets, there's a TV show from the '90s that still legally has a budget where we can toss it, and put the unused gear in storage for later use." "You do whatever you have to. I'm going to need them soon. We've been filming as many of the pure drama scenes as we can, but we'll only last so long doing that. Eventually, we have to get to the action scenes. Hell, I already had to bump the second lesbo scene up a month. And the way Reese and Susan are going at each other, I'm afraid we'll lose one of them if we're not careful. I'm dreading the final sex scene between them after last week. Hell, I'm still trying to figure out if we have to reshoot that one. Might serve Reese right though, especially if she's behind the faulty footage like I think she is." Kara nodded, but her heart didn't seem to be in it. "Kara, what's up? You don't just stop by for a progress report. You knew all of this already. Hell, the whole damn sound-stage pretty much knows who's screwing who, either literally or metaphorically. Shouldn't you be with Dirk?" Kara sighed slightly, and suddenly her eyes wouldn't meet his. "I...I think he's cheating." Max took it in stride. To the best of his knowledge Dirk had no one else, but he was certainly capable of it. Actually, out of everyone, he might be most capable of hiding it. After all, very few people had reason to go to his trailer, and most of those were afraid to. By the same token, it should be easy to keep track of anyone spending excessive amounts of time there. "Any idea with who?" "You didn't deny it. Thank you for that. Nothing concrete really. I just have the feeling every once in a while. Well, that and he just tastes wrong every once in a while. I can't explain it but..." Max held up a hand. "Way too much info! I'll tell you what. Ask Patience at some point. If it's going on around here, she knows about it. I still don't know how she deals with it, but I'm sure she knows." Kara smiled and stood up. She walked over to him and placed a friendly hand on his shoulder. It was amazing how much easier it was to be clearheaded right after he'd masturbated. Unfortunately, it only took him so far. His need to get something real still clouded his mind slightly. "Thank you. Do you mind if I mention you suggested it?" Max smiled and stood with her. "Not at all. Look, I hope, for your sake, that nothing's going on. But feel free to use my name, for what good it'll do you." Kara's smile was very enigmatic as he walked her to the door. "I think you'd be surprised." With that, she thanked him and headed off. Max simply shook his head and decided to hit up catering. He thought he'd seen Jackson Arseton there, so maybe he could give Patience the heads up. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The blond that straddled Jackson's lap certainly wasn't Patience, a fact for which he was eminently grateful. Patience was a sweet girl, one he could almost see spending the rest of his life with, but not for a few years yet. He was too young to be looking to put down roots now. It was time to explore the world and taste its flavors. And Tiffany was definitely a hot flavor. They were having dinner together when Jackson got the call. Patience had finished filming for the day and was on her way over. He quickly disappeared into the men's room and Tiffany had followed. This wasn't the first time he'd done this, although it was the first with the bombshell extra. After a week of dating, Patience still didn't want to give it up. He'd given her plenty of time, and all the signs ~he even meant them~ but still nothing. At the same time, he wasn't willing to give up on them. So he'd hooked up a couple of times in the past week, very discreetly. This way he could satisfy his needs and give his girlfriend all the time she needed. Hollyquirk Studios: Week 06 Tiffany's hips rolled forward slowly. Jack's head flew back in delight as each centimeter she shifted sank another inch into her. Granted, he only had three inches to deal with, but she had muscle control like he couldn't believe. Where he could barely feel most women, unless he went anal, she gripped him going in and coming out. Her body began to undulate slowly. It reminded him of a snake, or perhaps belly-dance. Either way, it slowly milked him. It was too slow, so he tried to buck himself into a much faster tempo, but her trained pussy gripped him tight and negated everything he tried. Finally, he relaxed and let her set the pace. Tiffany continued to roll her body across his. The heat built quickly in him and before he knew it, the molten seed burned its way up and into her. His body shivered beneath her. She stopped moving and his orgasm abated. When he opened his eyes, he smiled at her incredulous look. "Haven't had it that good before have you?" Tiffany's mouthed opened but closed before she could reply. She took a breath and thought about it for a moment before she tried again. "I can honestly say it was like nothing I've ever had before!" His self-satisfied grin proved he'd taken it as she'd expected rather than as the truth that it was. She did, however, feel bad for him. In her surprise over his sudden finish, she simply stopped. He'd barely cum for five seconds. She felt she had to do something more to redeem herself, otherwise the moron could ruin her rep without thinking about it. She'd earned a name on the set as one of the best lays around, with both men and women. She already had extra slots on other films at the studio and a director had approached her for a small speaking part. But this idiot could ruin it all by bragging that she'd gotten him to go for ten seconds. Reserved that she would have to hunt down someone for her own needs, she slid from his lap and bent forward. As her mouth opened, Jack's eyes widened. A great sigh escaped his lips. For some reason, he never really got to this point with women. Sure, occasionally he could guilt a girlfriend into it, but even that was rare. Tiffany must have been thanking him for such incredible sex. For her part, Tiffany actually liked the thought of blowing Jackson. As willing as she was to do it, and as much as she liked the ultimate reward, going all the way down on most guys was uncomfortable to say the least. Jackson was just the right size for it. She could stuff everything in her mouth. Even better, she could revel in the feel of his body as he exploded. She hadn't felt anything during sex, but that was because she'd had to focus on holding him in. All in all it was the same issues she had with the steroid-ridden Hans. The only difference was that Hans had the endurance to get her close to orgasm. Tiffany's head bobbed up and down slightly but, with his size, she could spend much more of her attention on his taste. Primary was the sweet flavor of her cum mixed with the salty of his, but beneath those delicious tastes was the undeniable masculinity. Once more, she was surprised as his balls nearly instantly began to seize in anticipation of his climax. As predicted, the first jet launched immediately across her tongue. She savored the taste, the sensation, as her cheeks pulsed inward. She sucked heavily and felt his butt clench as a second and third shot reached her palate. This was what she enjoyed. Jackson gripped the edge of the toilet as his body bucked. Tiffany continued to suck. Even more than his opinion, now she just wanted to fill her mouth with the juice. She felt his delight, and exulted in it, but she wished she could fill a bucket and down it. Finally, she felt his reaction begin to flag and carefully pulled back. The cum hadn't cooled at all, trapped between her hot mouth and his burning cock. Her lips kept a perfect seal as she glided up the softening form. She dragged the remnants of their sex, along with all traces of her draft. As her lips came together, Tiffany found a great surprise. Despite the size of his piece and balls, her mouth was completely filled. Her eyes widened and only the pressure of her treasure prevented her from grinning madly. Jackson shuddered in empathic delight as he watched Tiffany's head tilt back. Slowly, one small swallow at a time, she drank down the liquid opal. Finally, she stood and looked down at him. "You can guarantee that we'll do this again." It wasn't clear whether the suggestion or the sight of her tight body, wrapped in even tighter clothing, made Jackson's cock pulse in anticipation. The sight made Tiffany quiver slightly. Already, he was ready for a third time? Tiffany spun and fled the bathroom. If she wasn't careful, she could become hopelessly addicted to the PA. Fortunately for her, the sex was pathetic or she might find herself turned monogamous. Jackson simply chuckled at the girl's departure. He knew that women couldn't handle his intensity. Most spent one night with him and never came back. He went over to the sink and quickly cleaned off the minuscule traces that the blond had left behind. He started to pull up his underwear when his cell rang. It was Patience, the ring-tone gave it away. "Heya hunny!" "I thought you were gonna meet me at catering?" Jackson grinned. "Sorry love, just had to take care of something in the bathroom. I'll be there in a minute. Love ya! And you know, you're the only girl for me!" This is the seventh chapter of a chain. I highly encourage you to follow the other misadventures as the studio tries to produce 'Tragic Tactics.' If you enjoyed the story, please tell your friends, and most especially, please vote. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy the rest of the chain. Copywrite April 2007, by Deathlynx Hollyquirk Studios: Week 07 Susan Swansong reclined in the relative comfort that her star billing had afforded her and enjoyed the warmth of Woody's tongue on her clit, jazz on the stereo and a glass of red wine near to hand. In just the past few weeks Woody's training had come along nicely. After having learned how much her carpenter was stimulated by the idea of being submissive, Susan had done a little research and was finding it quite fun to be dominant in a relationship for a change. Though naturally dominant, Susan had grown up a trifle old-fashioned. She'd always let the man take control of love-making. There were few surprises in store for Woody tonight though. Susan was wearing her new favorite outfit; a supple black leather brassiere with thigh-high black stockings and knee-high leather boots. She had been wearing her matching leather panties over the garter belt but she'd already had Woody remove them. "Mmmm..." Susan slid a well-manicured hand down through Woody's short brown hair as he lapped along the folds of her labia. "That's enough for now. I'm feeling very nicely relaxed and I don't want to cum too soon tonight. I have some other things in mind." Woody leaned back and looked up adoringly over her well-groomed curly pubic hair. He felt so grateful to have Susan as his Mistress. She always knew just what to do to him. "Since you've been doing such a good job, I've decided to reward you," Susan said, sitting up and leaning down to press her lips to Woody's as he sat at her feet. Sliding her hands over Woody's naked shoulders and down his chest through the crisp hair, she rubbed his manly nubs. "Get up," she ordered abruptly. Woody jumped up and stood directly in front of her, his semi-hard penis bouncing gently in front of her. She smiled and leaned forward, reaching up to pop the head of his cock into her mouth and swirl her tongue around it quickly then just as quickly let it go. She smiled at his sharp intake of breath. Now this was guaranteed to get the taste of that nasty little snit, her supposed co-star, out of her mouth. "Go sit on that chair," Susan said, pointing to a padded kitchen chair in the middle of the small floor in the trailer. Woody walked over to the chair and started to comply. "No! Straddle the chair." Woody stood back up and turned to straddle the chair. Susan enjoyed the movement of his strong, though not overly muscular, body. She stood and walked over behind him. She slid her hands up and down his bare back and leaned in to lick his ear. "I know just what you need," she whispered. Woody shuddered. She truly did. Susan reached back to the table behind her and pulled out a studded leather dog collar and reached around to show it to him. "Would you like me to put it on you?" "Yes, please, Mistress," he responded instantly. He moaned softly, feeling the leather tighten slightly around his neck as she buckled it on. "Do you like it?" she breathed into his ear. "Yes, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress." The way the collar solidified the feeling of belonging to her brought Woody's cock to full mast. Susan reached back and removed a bottle of vanilla massage oil from her bag and poured a little into her palm before rubbing her hands together. She laid them gently on Woody's back and started massaging in small circular motions. She would have to loosen him up nicely for what she had in mind. She didn't want to hurt him at all. Susan worked her way down over Woody's broad back to his narrow lower back and up again. She kept working farther and farther south until she'd reached his butt cheeks. "Stand up," she commanded. Woody stood and started to turn but she pressed on his shoulders to keep him turned around. "Lean forward and put your hands on the back of the chair." Woody did as he was told and Susan continued her massage down over his lovely ass and upper thigh muscles then back up, lingering on his butt cheeks, cupping and squeezing. Mmm, he had the most delicious ass she had ever seen. "Spread your legs shoulder length apart," she said. Woody did as told, flexing his knees, unsure of how long he would have to stand this way but knowing he would do exactly as she told him until his legs gave out. Susan slid her oiled hands over his ass again and down, then reached between his legs to gently squeeze his cock. She took several minutes to fully massage his ass before reaching back and pulling a bottle out of her bag. "Step back and lean forward so that your hands are on the seat of the chair." Woody did as ordered, bringing his ass more fully up into the air, opening him to her fingers. Susan slid her fingers around his anus then back and forth over the puckered opening, the oil on her fingers coating him as he slowly relaxed to the pleasant touch. "Now, let yourself down so the side of your face rests on the seat of the chair." Susan admired the picture he made with his legs spread wide and his ass up in the air, open for her. She used the oil coating her hands to lube the nozzle of the enema and touched it to his anus. "Mistress?" Woody asked in a worried tone. They'd never done this before. "Everything's fine," she murmured soothingly. "I've researched this very thoroughly and if you do what I tell you, I promise you will enjoy this more than anything else we've ever done." She continued rubbing his left butt cheek and murmuring soothingly as she slid the nozzle into his anus slowly, giving him time to relax. When it was all the way in, she squeezed the enema slowly, letting the liquid flow into him. When the bottle was drained, she slowly withdrew the nozzle from his anus. "Now go to the bathroom but don't let it go until you feel like you really need to. Then wash the external area with the washcloth and soap you will find on the sink." Woody stood up and walked, stiff-legged to the bathroom. Susan went to the kitchen area and disposed of the enema and washed her hands in the sink. She had time to sit down and sip her wine, relaxing to the Wynton Marsalis on the stereo, before Woody returned. When Woody came back from his cleansing, she gestured to the chair, "resume your position." Susan took another sip of wine before standing and walking back over to Woody. She rubbed her hands over his ass again. "You're doing very well so far," she commended him. "We're going to take this very slowly. We have all the time in the world. I hope you'll enjoy this as much, if not more, than I will." "Yes, Mistress." Woody sounded a little doubtful but Susan was sure she could prove him wrong. She wasn't into pain, just dominance, and she was going to exercise that dominance tonight in making Woody cum in a way that was new to him and perhaps the best he had ever cum. She reached back and took another tube of lube from her bag, this one flavored for her own pleasure as well. Holding the bottle directly above Woody's puckered anus, Susan squeezed a generous dollop on and set the tube aside. Woody had shuddered at the contact but relaxed as Susan rubbed it around and around the area and it warmed slightly. The scent of cinnamon reached his nostrils gently. Susan pulled a chair over and sat down directly behind Woody. She continued to stroke and cup his ass, brushing her fingers over his anus again and again as she massaged him. Finally, she leaned forward and licked his anus. Mmmm, cinnamon, she thought as she heard Woody gasp. Susan rubbed the flat of her tongue over his anus, playing with him. She reached between Woody's legs and slid her hand up over his balls to find his now fully erect cock which she squeezed gently just as she pushed the tip of her probing tongue into his anus. She heard Woody groan and released his cock. She didn't want him to cum too quickly. Susan pushed her tongue further into Woody's ass. It was a bit like pushing her tongue into the opening of a bottle. Though there was more give, she could only go so far. Susan pulled back and reached for the lube again, this time lubing her long fingers carefully. Then she reached up and pushed into his ass, slowly pushing her forefinger all the way in. She rolled her finger around and started stroking it in and out a few times. Woody moaned again. She added her second finger and twisted them like a key and grinned as Woody bucked. Susan pulled her finger out and reached into a bag for the first toy of the night, a butt plug. It was bright purple, looked obscenely swollen, tapered at each end then opening up to wings of a sort at one end. She couldn't wait to put it in his ass but she carefully lubed it first. Then she put the narrow end against his anus and pushed. It started in easily after her attention to preparing him but encountered resistance about half way in. She pushed steadily with just a little more force and it popped in. Woody groaned. "How does that feel?" she asked silkily. "Wonderful... full." "Now," Susan said, "turn around and kneel in front of me." Woody did as requested and Susan slowly undid the hooks of her black leather brassiere. She peeled the cups off her breasts, which were at face level for Woody, then cupped his jaw with her delicate fingers and drew him to her. A knock at the door stopped her. Damn. "Stay where you are." Woody looked up at her in anticipation. Was this part of the evening? No, she looked annoyed. Hmmm, he wasn't sure having her annoyed when she would be playing with his ass was a good thing. "Coming," Susan called out and grabbed her red silk kimono from the sofa where she'd dropped it earlier. "Who is it?" she asked before unlocking the door. "It's Patience." Susan took a deep breath as she unlocked the door. Patience was a sweet girl. It wouldn't do to get nasty with her but she really didn't want this interruption. She was very firmly of the opinion that one should be a lady in public and save the fun for when clothes were off in private. She didn't want anyone knowing what she did in private. Susan opened the door just a few inches. "I was just getting into the tub." Patience looked down at the leather boots peeking out from under Susan's silk kimono. Odd choice of footwear for getting into a bath. "The director insisted I hand deliver these re-writes." Susan smiled sweetly, reached out and took them from Patience. "Thank you dear, I'll read them right after my bath." She firmly closed the door and reset the locks, tossed the script on the table and slid off the kimono. She returned to Woody, sitting back down in front of his kneeling form. "Now, where were we? Ah, yes. Worship my breasts with your mouth," she purred. Woody eagerly leaned forward and played the flat of his tongue over the nub of her left nipple then sucked it into his mouth as deep as he could. He flicked his tongue across her nipple then pulled back to blow on it. Susan shivered and closed her eyes as Woody lapped at her nipples. She reached down and slid a finger over her clit, gently massaging herself as he sucked on her nipples, alternating between first the right and then the left and then back again. He used the tip of his tongue to draw patterns over her full breasts then blew on them. The delicious difference in feeling between the air on her breast where it was wet and where it was dry made Susan shudder. She had Woody continue for several minutes before pulling back. "Stand again," she commanded. Woody complied, his cock fully erect now in front of Susan. She reached back into her little bag of tricks and pulled out a leather cock ring which she held up for Woody to see. "I got your lovely cock a little collar too." Woody's lips parted and he felt a little surge. "Thank you Mistress." Susan gently slid the ring around the base of Woody's cock and snapped it into place. She had considered rings that would go around his balls as well and vibrating ones but decided to save that for another time. This would be more than sufficient for tonight. She glanced at the time. Thirty minutes before she would have to take it off. She didn't want to risk damaging such a delicious penis. She leaned forward and kissed the tip of Woody's cock and then licked her lips. Mmmmm. She reached again into her bag and pulled out the next toy, a medium sized anal plug. She smiled up at Woody. "Time to move up a size. Resume your position, facing forward, leaning on the chair." Woody's eyes had gotten wide at the sight of the 4 inch vibrating anal T plug but he resumed his position. Susan flicked her finger against the plug protruding from Woody's anus and heard him gasp. She took hold of it by the wings and began to slowly pull it out, working steadily but as slowly as she could to slip it out. Woody groaned as it left his body. Susan had the new plug lubed and ready. She didn't want his slightly opened body to have a chance to start closing. She quickly put the tip to his anus and started pushing in and a little up. It started easily but she heard him groan as she pushed it further in until his ass had swallowed it up. "How does that feel?" He was panting a little now as he replied, "It feels so good Mistress. I've never felt anything like it. I'm so full." With no warning, Susan turned on the vibrator and Woody bucked, moaning. "Oh my God, oh my God, ohmyGod..." Susan stood up and put her arms around Woody to grasp his erection, slowly starting to stroke him. Using his pre-cum, she stroked his very erect cock and rubbed herself against him. She rubbed her tits against his back and humped his ass a little. She loved the feeling of control. That she could push him over the edge this way, make him cum when she wanted him to, make him feel so good. But it wasn't over yet. Susan pulled back and sat down again, turning off the vibrating butt plug. Woody groaned in protest. "You liked that, did you?" "Yes Mistress." Susan stood behind Woody and pulled her final toy for the evening out of her bag. It was a lovely purple vibrating strap on cock, six inches long and a full inch in diameter. There had been bigger on the Web site she ordered from, but this seemed like a good choice for their first time. She stepped into the harness and tightened the straps then lubed it up thoroughly. She had played with it a little earlier. Enjoying the sensation of the vibration, even though it wasn't in her own pussy, as she imagined fucking Woody's ass with it. Now, at last, she would get the chance to do so. Reaching out, Susan pulled the four inch vibrating butt plug from Woody's ass. He groaned loudly at the further stimulation. She dropped it onto a towel on the table and lined her slick new cock up with Woody's ass and began pushing in. It was going to take a few minutes to get this all the way in but she had a feeling it wouldn't take Woody long to cum. Woody groaned as she forced the cock in. "Push out baby," she urged. Woody bore down and she was able to push it in two more inches, almost there. Just one more inch to go. She stopped and let him adjust to it for a minute before making the final push. "Unh," she grunted a little as she thrust in. She rubbed her hands on Woody's back and murmured soothingly as she felt him shake a little. She moved her hands down to his hips and grinned as she started to pull the cock back out just a little bit and slide it back in. She slowly pulled out a little farther and then slid back in. She felt him start to loosen up as she pulled back and thrust harder. She worked into a rhythm, fucking his ass... then she turned on the vibration. She fucked him steadily but not too fast as he moaned and shook. The vibration stimulating Susan as well was bringing her close to orgasm. Mmmm. She continued thrusting, closing her eyes and enjoying the feelings as she listened to Woody vocalize his pleasure. "Please Mistress," he cried hoarsely. "Please what?" "Please... please let me cum!" Woody moaned again. He was shaking hard as Susan reached around and undid the cock ring then resumed her thrusting into his ass. She rolled her hips as she thrust, going all the way in and almost all the way out. "You may cum, my pet," she said. "Oh! Unh.. ahhhhhh," Woody moaned and his orgasm went on and on as Susan kept thrusting into his ass. She was close to cumming herself. Finally, as he quieted, Susan slid the tool out, turned it off and slid the straps off. She walked over to the sofa and reclined. Looking at her weary lover, she spread her legs. "Now, make me cum." Woody went down on his knees, crawled to his Mistress, and buried his face in her wet pussy.