At the end of her summer-long stint as a driver, a job the dean had helped her find, Vixen received not only the ten thousand dollars she had agreed to but a thousand more as a bonus for her incredible sexual services to the family. By summer's end, the lusty girl was forgetting the violence of the past winter. Her voluptuous body already had.
In her six weeks she had fucked or sucked the cockolded master of the house half-a-dozen times and both of his sons twice that often. She had helped his young daughter with her multitude of adolescent assignations and had strapped on a device so that she could satisfy the owner's trophy wife who was also enjoying both the gardener and the poolboy during their weekly visits. It was a very strange and horny family.
And then her father called and asked her to come home for a week or so before she went back to school for her junior year at Seaside. She enjoyed the long drive in her Mustang and got home at about suppertime. After a decent meal, she and her father adjourned to his bed and renewed the sexual liaison that had begun when the girl was fourteen. Her father exhausted himself in her, and she cuddled against his tired body while he explained his plans.
"Have you ever seen any part of Hilda, the erotic graphic book by a fellow called Kovacq?" he asked her as his hand cupped her firm buttocks. "It's very fine drawing, stimulating."
Vixen shook her head and licked his nipple, his limp cock in her small hand. She was hoping for more.
"It's basically sadism, I suppose, with a number of other BDSM elements including lesbian activity of various types. I'm not going down that road." He licked the nearer tit.
"Sadism?" asked the girl as her father's questing fingers probed her anus. She shivered and dandled his emptied balls.
"Oh yes, lots of rape and whipping, various diabolical devices. It's wonderful, highly imaginative."
"And you got the movie rights?" she asked, surprised since her father had been out of the porn business for a while.
He chuckled as he probed deeper, his fingers now up in her dripping slit, seeking her G-spot. "No, no. We're just going to steal the ideas. It goes like this: girl seduces her brother and father, very graphically of course, her mother dies, poisoned by her sister or something, her father marries the ambitious sister and then her new step-mother kills him and blames her. She is tried and tortured for the step-mother's pleasure, her own sister." He chuckled. "It's kind of complicated, but there plenty of action." He switched to the other nipple and chewed gently. "I'm buying a lot of plastic cocks."
"Is there a happy ending?" asked Vixen with a shudder as her father stroked her G-spot, and she felt for his prostate.
"No, no. The poor girl is burned alive or impaled; I've forgotten which. We are going to call it Greta, I think, not Hilda, and you are going to star. I think we'll impale you; that's easier." He chuckled as he felt his tired phallus tremble. "A thick pole in your pussy, eh?"
An orgasm swept through her, and her pussy squeezed her father's fingers as she shuddered with pleasure. They fell away from each other, spent.
In the morning after her father had fucked her from behind as she clung to the headboard of her bed and sobbed with pleasure, and she had cleaned him with her mouth and tongue, the smiling man gave Vixen the script to read and a disc with all the Hilda episodes. There was very little dialogue but a great deal of violent sex. The setting seemed to be England in the Middle Ages and the action was bloody and non-stop - heads flew right and left.
They went to the studio together and Vixen watched as the sets were being prepared after she had a costume fitting. Since she would be naked for most of the film, the costumes were mainly thin drapery plus one medieval-style dress that bared her high breasts and a few wispy shifts, satin corsets and long stockings.
That afternoon she met some of the male actors, men who would play her young brother, her noble and insatiable father and the chief inquisitor and head torturer. She also saw some the extras being fitted with penis extensions and looked at a few of the torture devices including a heavy rack and a very odd barrel.
"What's this?" she asked the man staining the keg to make it look old.
He smiled at her and licked his lips as he flipped open the hinged top. "Hop up here, honey," he said, "and lie back. Oh, take off your sandals first."
Vixen did as he suggested and put her feet and arms though the holes as he closed the lid, trapping her head at one end and her butt at the other. "Now," said the smiling man, pulling on a long handle, "this thing rotates and you can be used at both ends at the same time."
Vixen shuddered and was glad to get out of the barrel. She walked through a dining hall set with fake stone walls and a bedroom with a canopied bed and then met with the director.
He shook her hand, said he had seen some of the films her father had made, and asked her if she was ready to do the job.
"Are you going to shoot straight through, in order?" she asked.
He shook his head. "Miguel, the man who plays your father, has another job, so we will do his scenes first; should get them finished this week, just a day or two I hope."
"When do we start?" she asked.