Film for a few Friends
Chapter 5
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 5 -
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Exhibitionism Novel-Pocketbook
Matt did not have that many evenings to spend peacefully at home these days, and the cameraman was genuinely sorry to learn that Lynn had scheduled a working meeting of her charity group which was expected to last until late. Well, there was an evening full of good shows on the television, he decided, so there was no reason to be bored. The refrigerator was well stocked with ginger ale, and he decided to make himself comfortable in the big easy chair by the fireplace and pleasantly kill a few hours until his wife returned home from her night of doing good.
After all, since it was he who had insisted that she become involved in Church activities, he could hardly complain about the fact that she had thrown herself wholeheartedly into doing good deeds for the poor and underprivileged. Tonight, they were supposed to be knitting mittens for Indonesian orphans and it occurred to the naive young husband that she could just as easily knit mittens at home with him. But he wisely decided not to interfere. Lynn had been acting so strangely recently!
For example, when he had gotten home from his trip to Saint Louis, he had distinctly smelled liquor on her breath, and she had greeted him at the door wearing a tight mini-dress which was really far from proper, 'shocking' would have been a better term! He had no sooner put down his things and taken off his hat, when his sweet innocent young wife had stripped off her already inadequate dress and hauled him into the bedroom practically by force, clawing at his clothing as if she had completely lost her mind and her sense of decency. As far as Matt was concerned, love-making was a pleasant husbandly duty, one which he liked to perform late at night with the lights out, just prior to dropping off to sleep. He considered himself a good lover and a very virile man, but the subject of sex did not occur to him very often. It was just something you did, as far as the cameraman was concerned, but nothing to get excited about.
Nevertheless, husbands have certain obligations, and inasmuch as she seemed to want it in the worst way, he had allowed himself to be wrestled into the bedroom and stood passively still while she stripped off his suit (throwing it, he noticed, on the floor, which was hardly the way to treat expensive clothing!). Then he climbed into bed beside her, covering her face with soft husbandly kisses.
To his enormous surprise, she did not seem to want his gentle embraces, and squirmed around so that she was upside down, attempting to put her mouth directly on what Matt referred to as his 'genital organ'. This was really too much! What had gotten into the girl? Firmly, he had pulled her back into the proper 'missionary' position, feeling his rapidly awakening penis come to life as he crawled on top of her, penetrating her wetly ready vagina as usual.
But nothing seemed to satisfy her and Lynn had thrashed back and forth, her long blonde hair whipping him in the face as he did his conventional best to make love to her in the approved fashion.
"Harder, harder," she had pleaded with him, her face contorted into an unrecognizable mask of lust. "Fuck me harder, Matt! Oh, I need it so bad, darling. Fuck it harder."
Never in his entire life had the young cameraman heard such language spoken by a well-brought up young married woman, and his erection wilted a little from the sheer shock of hearing his own sweet wife's voice use these obscene words. But the gyrations of her nakedly panting body were too fierce to be resisted, and he quickly regained his rigidness and treed to oblige, sliding in and out of her a little more rapidly and kissing her under the ear, something he had heard that women found hopelessly erotic. But even this bold move seemed to be inadequate.
"Be rough with me," she had pleaded, her eyes glazed and unseeing. "Hurt me if you want to!"
"But I don't want to," he had replied, perplexed at this strange behavior, not having the remotest idea of how to go about hurting a woman, even had he wanted to.
Then, unexpectedly, her body had gone slack and she had burst into a torrent of tears. Matt had continued to glide gently in and out of her, but they both saw that it was useless. Feeling as if he had somehow failed, the young husband took his timid orgasm and carefully withdrew from her lust-ridden form, deciding that he would probably never really understand women.
Later, she had thrown an old robe around her shoulders without bothering even to put on her underwear, and flung herself unhappily in front of the fire, chain-smoking despite the fact that she knew perfectly well it upset him to see her smoke. Matt had taken his usual place in the easy chair in front of the fire and told her about the high points of the pro game he had video-taped in Saint Louis, but even this had failed to arouse any apparent interest in her. Imagine not being interested in a pro game!
They ate a quiet dinner without much conversation, and then she bathed and dressed to go to her charity meeting. While she was putting on her dress, Matt noticed a series of scratches on her back and legs, and considered asking her if she had fallen down the stairs, but given her strange mood, he decided it would probably be better to say nothing. She left without saying goodby.
It came to her in a blinding flash of brilliance as she signaled for a taxi to take her to the studio. Agard was blackmailing her into doing these sordid roles in his even-more sordid films, and she had falsely assumed all along that there was nothing she could do about it. But there was! She suddenly realized what had been obvious all along, that she could blackmail him right back, in fact, blackmail her way right out from under his iron domination. These films were certainly illegal, in fact, criminal offenses and an anonymous telephone call to the local chief of police would land Mr. and Mrs. Agard in trouble up to their ears. She would do this one last film, only if he promised that there would be no more in the future. After this, he had to leave her alone, because it was obvious that she could not go on fooling her husband forever. And Phil Agard was getting careless, scheduling a film at a time when Matt was in town, and forcing her to invent that ridiculous pathetic story about knitting mittens for the refugees.
Now, she had Phil where she wanted him, she was convinced! They would have a little talk tonight before the shooting began and get matters straightened out before the first scene. When tonight's work was over, she would be a free woman, and she could go home and start picking up the pieces of her shattered life.
That was a bad scene with Matt, she thought unhappily, recalling their unfortunate attempt at love-making. I'm going to have to educate him a little in the fine acts of keeping a woman satisfied. Maybe there are some books down at the bookstore that I could leave lying around the house.
"This is it, Lady," announced the cabby, pulling up in front of WRT- TV and turning on the lights. "Pardon me for asking, but you ain't an actress, are you?"
"Why no," Lynn responded hurriedly. "Whatever made you think that?"
"I can't remember where, right now," confessed the cabdriver, "but it seems to me I've seen you in a movie."
"Must have been someone who looks like me," snapped Lynn in irritation handing the man his fare. "I've never been in a movie in my life!"
"I wonder where it was," the cabby persisted. "I could swear it was..."
But Lynn had slammed the door and was walking quickly towards the front doors of WRT-TV, wanting to get well away from the man before he remembered precisely where he had seen her: a pornographic video-tape. This was another good reason to get away from Phil as soon as possible. A couple more of these skin-flicks and everybody in town would be recognizing her and all sorts of unpleasant complications could arise.
"Is everything ready?" Agard wanted to know.
"Will be by shooting time," confirmed Lenny. "The boys are working on the set now and they'll be finished in a couple of minutes. I figure we can start taping right after the midnight newscast. That okay with you?"
"Sounds fine," answered the TV producer, leaning forward to light his wife's cigarette. "You got your lines memorized lovely?"
"You know I do, baby," purred the tough brunette. "But I don't think anybody's going to be looking at poor little me in this flick. Our little friend Lynn should be the center of attraction."
"Speaking of Lynn, where is she?" Lenny wanted to know. "That dumb blonde ought to be here by now."
"She'll be here," predicted Agard confidently. "She knows she's in too deep to back out now. And besides that, we've done as neat a job of corrupting that chick as I've ever seen. She's still trying to salvage her conscience, poor little bitch, but she's gotten to the point where she gets turned on only by the rough stuff. And with nobody but that flatfooted husband of hers to turn to for satisfaction, I expect she's all set and ready to go for our little experiment tonight."
"How much are you going to tell her about the scene we're gonna shoot?" Lenny inquired, lighting a fresh cigar.
"Same as last time," instructed the producer. "Nothing, or at least nothing true. I don't suppose we can use the story about everything being simulated again, so Kelly here can just explain that there'll be a simple fuck scene with Rick. I don't think that will upset her too much."
"Wait till she sees who her partner is going to be!" laughed Kelly in cruel anticipation.
"Oh yeah, how is the big ape, anyway," Agard wanted to know.
"Freddy's fine," responded Kelly. "He's downstairs now looking at things and walking around drooling as usual. Good thing he doesn't have to remember any lines. I've never seen anyone so stupid in my life. I don't think he really understands what's going on, but when we told him he could fuck a beautiful girl, he made happy noises, so I guess everything is going to be all right."
"Everything's got to be all right," said Agard sternly. "We've got a lot of money riding on this flick."
Gene was a happy hippie. He had long dirty hair and sandals, and all the marijuana he could smoke, and to top it all off, a job where he could sit and listen to records all night and still get paid for it. Gene, among other things, was the night watchman for WRT-TV, and his sole responsibility was sitting in the control booth until the announcer had finished giving the midnight news, and then flip the switches which would close down the transmission system for the night. Once an hour thereafter, Gene was supposed to walk around the studio and check to make sure everything was quiet, and the rest of the time, he could play rock and roll records on the studio's turn-table and smoke marijuana, the two things he loved best in the world.
Recently, Mr. Agard had been working late in the shooting studio, and Gene had been told to stay out, which further reduced his responsibilities and gave him more time to indulge in his two favorite pastimes. But Gene had a certain sense of duty, and he bravely refrained from getting high on marijuana until after the news, fearful that if he got too stoned, he might forget to flick the switch and let the television studio transmit dead air all night long, a tremendous waste of money.
Tonight, unfortunately, Gene was feeling somewhat more reckless. Impatiently he slumped in his chair, watching the pro game from Saint Louis which was boring him stiff. Suddenly it occurred to him that he might like football a little better if he tried watching it stoned, and before his scruples could intervene, Gene had a marijuana cigarette dangling between his lips.
Ah, look at those funny little men chase that funny looking ball around, he thought, feeling his mind slip comfortably out of gear. This is going to be a terrific night!
"Well, I can't make any promises, and I assure you that I don't like being threatened and blackmailed like this," complained Agard with a hurt tone of voice. "After all, there was a time when we meant something to one another, Lynn."
Lynn was surprised to find that there was no sensation of triumph inside of her, despite the fact that she had expected to feel relieved and happy at finally having had the courage to stand up to this man and lay her cards upon the table.
"Well, what do you think you've been doing to me all along," she counter-attacked. "If threatening to tell Matt wasn't blackmail, what is?"
"Oh, surely you never took me seriously, sweetheart," Agard purred, making an effort to turn on the charm. "You know that your happiness is very important to me! It's just that I think you might be just what the doctor ordered. Come on, honey, fess up. Is Matt any good in bed?"
"How dare you ask that question?" she snapped back at him, feeling tears come into her eyes.
"That's all the answer I needed," Phil nodded. "A fine fellow, Matt, but short on imagination... I would say. You need more than one man to keep you happy, lovely, believe me. I understand girls like you."
"Oh, I hate you!" she hurled at him, somehow feeling that this double talking monster was once more getting the upper hand.
"Now you don't mean that, Phil, kissed her chastely on the forehead. "Come on now, love, get into your costume. We've got a nice gentle love scene with Rick arranged and when you see how lovely you look on tape, you'll want to sign a life-time contract with us."
"Just remember what I said, Phil Agard," she sobbed as he gently maneuvered her into her dressing room. "If you don't let me go after this picture, I'm going to call the police!"
"Sure, sure, honey," he calmed her. "Don't worry about a thing."
Closing the door behind her, a frown immediately creased the producer's features, and he hurried down onto the set, his eyes busily sweeping the room to make sure everything was in order. The scene they intended to shoot involved a torture chamber and the studio's technicians had assembled a terrifying collection of whips, ropes, chains and other implements of torment. In the center of the set stood the largest man any of them had ever seen, gazing stupidly at the cameras and lights with an idiotic, bewildered expression on his face.
"How are you doing, Freddy?" asked Agard, craning his neck to look up at the monster.
"Uh, okay Mister Agard," drawled the mentally deficient youth slowly, turning his massive frame around to face the man who had promised him money for the privilege of being able to make love to a beautiful young girl. Freddy liked girls, but in his twenty years of existence, he had never succeeded in getting even close to one, much less into bed. Built like a gorilla and not bright enough to hold down a steady job, the poor unfortunate had been digging ditches outside the studio when the TV producer had made this stunning offer.
"Good, now I must explain something to you, Freddy," said Phil carefully, speaking slowly to allow his words to penetrate the idiot's thick skull. "You know Kelly, the nice lady who always talks to you?"
"Yeah!" affirmed the giant stupidly. "Freddy fuck Kelly?"
"No!" corrected Agard hurriedly, wanting to be absolutely sure he got everything straight.
"No, Freddy fuck girl named Lynn, but Freddy must obey Kelly. Lynn will pretend to be afraid, Freddy and she will tell you to stop and go away. But you must not listen to her. Listen to Kelly. Kelly is the boss. Understand?"
Freddy shook his head slowly, and Agard ran his fingers through his hair in desperation. A few years back the doctors had done an operation on Freddy's brain to render him completely docile and unaggressive, accurately guessing that someone with his massive strength and low level of intelligence could be a potential menace to society. After the operation, Freddy had become extremely gentle and lacked any capacity whatsoever for anger or violence. Agard realized that if Lynn began screaming for help, the big but sensitive jerk might become frightened and stop, which was precisely what they had to avoid. He decided to make one more stab at explaining.
"Freddy, listen to Phil," he tried again. "We are going to play a joke on our friend. Lynn really likes to be fucked by big boys like you, in fact she told me so just a few minutes ago."
"Lynn like Freddy?" the giant asked in surprise.
"Lynn really likes Freddy," confirmed Phil evilly, "but Lynn will pretend she doesn't like Freddy. Kelly will tell you what to do and you must do it, even if Lynn says no, because Lynn won't really mean it!" This speech did not make a great deal of sense even to Agard himself, but it seemed to satisfy the gorilla who nodded happily.
"Okay now Freddy, you take your clothes and stand over there," Phil directed.
"Freddy take off clothes?" questioned the imbecile, who had received many a lecture on this subject at the home for mentally deficient children where he had been raised. They had always told him to keep his clothing on in public.
"It's part of the joke, Freddy," urged Agard convincingly. "It won't be funny if you don't take off your clothes."
Freddy nodded dubiously and began removing his pants, clumsily attempting to balance on one leg. In the end he had to sit down on the floor to deal with the complicated problems of his shoe laces, and Agard shook his head in amazement.
"Ready to go?" called Lenny, already perched behind a camera.
"I'm set," chimed in Kelly, emerging from her dressing room. The older actress was dressed in a bizarre costume featuring riding boots and tight, form-fitting pants, topped by a man's shirt, tie, and coat, all tailored to emphasize her voluptuous figure, but conveying the impression of a woman who enjoyed cruelty and perversions, with just a hint of Lesbianism thrown in for effect. In her hand, she carried a whip.
"How do I look?"
"Great, but you're going to scare the shit out of the waitress when we go for pizza later," commented her husband. "Where's Miss Lynn?"
"Here I am," responded the girl calmly, appearing at his elbow, dressed in an attractive white robe which covered her from shoulder to ankle. The young wife was under no illusions about being able to wear this pleasant garment much longer, but for the moment, it gave her a warm and comforting sensation of being protected.
"Who's that?" she asked in sudden alarm as she caught a glimpse of Freddy, who had removed one shoe successfully and was now attacking the other one with fierce concentration.
"Oh, just an extra," Phil reassured her hastily. "We thought it would be amusing to have a naked giant in the background."
"Oh," mumbled Lynn, not totally convinced. "Well, what do I have to do?"
"Okay, now we want your reactions spontaneous, as usual, so just walk on to the set with Rick and follow his lead from there."
Lynn nodded and turned to link arms with Rick who appeared dressed in a normal business suit. He looked particularly handsome, and the young wife found herself becoming excited ahead of time at the prospects of being able to make love to this sexy muscular man. They exchanged winks and stepped off the set to await their cue.
Meanwhile two technicians assisted Freddy with his underwear, and when he was naked, they marched him up to the wall of the set and chained him to a large steel post which had erected for that purpose, explaining at the same time that this was all part of the 'joke.' Freddy smiled agreeably, happy to be liked and accepted by all these nice people.
When the technicians stepped aside and Lynn was faintly able to see the length and breath of the giant's body, she drew her breath in sharply.
"My God, look at him, Rick," she whispered. "Did you ever see anything so huge in your life?"
The male actor knew what she was talking about; Freddy was big all over, but the young girl was obviously referring to the giant's massive great penis which was bigger in the relaxed state than the average man's erection. The monstrous dangling object lolled between his legs like an enormous sausage, but he showed no signs of arousal as of yet.
"Don't worry, they've got him chained up," Rick calmed her insincerely.
"Positions, everybody!" bellowed Lenny as the red lights on the television cameras went on. Kelly started the action, pacing back and forth impatiently, striking the palm of her hand with the short, wicked- looking whip which she carried. A technician imitated the sound of a fist knocking at a door, and Kelly looked up expectantly.
"Come in!" she ordered in a low throaty voice.
Lynn felt a pressure on her elbow and allowed Rick to lead her onto the set.
"Here is the young lady I spoke to you about," announced Rick, bowing slightly as he delivered his lines. "I trust she will be adequate, Madame?"
Kelly walked critically around Lynn, looking at her from all sides, and then spoke sharply.
"Perhaps, but it is difficult to tell when she is completely draped in cloth!" she snapped harshly. "Denude her!"
Lynn sighed as Rich expertly began to disrobe her lushly ripened body. It had been nice while it lasted, she thought. But by this time, the prospect of being naked in front of a group of people did not upset her the way it had at first. In fact, she felt a warm sensuous feeling start to build up in her loins and the thought that she would soon be in Rick's arms appealed to her enormously. The male actor undid a fastening at the back, and the long white garment collapsed on the floor, leaving her perfectly naked. Kelly continued to study her critically, nodding with approval as she touched Lynn's high-set pendulous breasts with the tip of her whip.
"She will do. You approve, my son?" she called to the giant idiot who was still chained to the wall. Freddy evidently approved, grinning from ear to ear, and his cock jerked slightly as the sight of this perfectly formed young beauty entered his thick sluggish brain.
"Do me the kindness of chaining her up before you leave," instructed Kelly in an imperious tone of voice. "I shall need my energy later for other activities."
This confused the young actress. Rick was not scheduled to leave was he? And why should she be chained? But she could hardly interrupt the scene to inquire about the plot, so she willingly followed the young male porno-star to a mat on the floor. Attached to a ring in the floor, was a long silver chain which was in turn connected to a dog collar. After forcing her gently to her knees, Rick fastened the dog collar around her neck.
"Thank you, my good man," Kelly dismissed him regally. "You will receive my check in the mail, as usual."
Smiling and bowing, Rick left the set, deserting the startled Lynn who was beginning to have severe second thoughts about this whole business. Her thoughts were interrupted by the flick of Kelly's whip which sailed through the air out of nowhere and caught her on the right buttock, forcing a shrill yelp to her lips.
"What? I won't stand for that!" she screamed, deciding to end this whole business once and for all. "Touch me once again with that thing and I'm going to call the police!" Lynn realized she was wrecking their video-tape, but she no longer cared. No one had said anything to her about submitting to a whipping. A nice gentle love scene was what Phil had promised.
"Call the police, will you?" responded Kelly viciously, still speaking in the same throaty masculine voice. And before Lynn could dodge or protect herself, the whip flashed through the air a second time, catching the tortured girl cleanly across her white tender back.
"AAAaaagggggh!" Lynn screamed in agony, her mind in a jumble. This whole business no longer made sense! Why were the cameras still turning when she had made a direct reference to calling the police? Why wasn't Phil up here trying to soothe her injured feelings and talk her out of it?
The whip fell again.
"STOP! Goddamn you!" she screamed. "Let me go! I didn't come here for this. They said I would just have to make love... !"
Inexorably, the whip descended another time, this time angling in from the side to flick against the tip of Lynn's sensitive left breast, bringing a groan of agony to her lips. The pain seemed to clear her mind, and suddenly it all became perfectly obvious why they had not stopped the cameras and why they had no intention of stopping them. Everything she had said and done this far was perfectly in keeping with the character she was unwittingly playing. She was a prostitute, tempted in off the street to this torture chamber with the promise of money. Naturally she would threaten to call the police. They had tricked her again!
But the scene was going ahead rapidly, with or without her consent. The whipping had stopped, momentarily, and Kelly was standing next to the post to which Freddy was chained.
"Isn't she lovely, Freddy?" the older actress purred, her hand reaching down to stroke the idiot's giant genital organ.
"Freddy fuck girl," came the monster's stupid reply. His eyes were glowing with lust, and his face bore a happy smile, knowing that he was taking part in this elaborate joke. He now remembered clearly what Phil had said about obeying Kelly and not the girl.
"That's right, Freddy," murmured the actress in her ear. "But you must do it exactly the way I tell you, or the girl will not be happy. Do you understand?"
"Freddy un'erstan'" grumbled the giant, straining at the chain which held him back. With a quick practiced motion of her hand, Kelly reached up behind him and unfastened the chain, freeing the giant from all restraint. His monstrously thick cock swaying menacingly between his legs, the imbecile hunkered across the floor, his beady eyes fastened on Lynn's nakedly ripe young body.
"Now we're going to have a little fun, my friend," Kelly informed the intimidated girl sadistically, reaching down to seize her by the hair, and waving the whip threateningly over her. "My little boy likes girl's like you, and as a good mother, I try to keep him amused. I'm sure you don't mind."
"Don't you let him near me," spat Lynn from between gritted teeth, but Kelly ignored her completely, turning her attention to Freddy who was devouring the girl with his eyes, but not yet daring to touch her.
"You like her, Freddy--darling?" Kelly asked coyly, despite the fact that it was obvious from the idiot's eyes that he was entranced.
"Freddy like!" affirmed the monster.
"You haven't seen the half of her yet, my darling," continued Kelly cruelly. "Show him what you have to offer, love," she ordered Lynn, who shot a hate-filled glance at her and did not move, keeping her knees pinned tightly together and her hands crossed across her full, lushly swelling breasts. The whip whistled through the air and slashed across her back.
"Aaaaaaaggggggghhhhh!" Lynn reacted promptly.
"I told you to show Freddy what you have to offer him," ordered the sadistic woman a second time. "Do I have to beat you to death? Your situation is hopeless, any dear, and your only hope for salvation lies in total submission!"
Oh wow, oh wow, Gene was grooving high and happy on the latest long play by the Reckless Climax, the newest and hottest folk-rock-acid-stoned- soul group from the Farout West Coast. Gene's mind was a thousand miles in the blue as he finished his third marijuana cigarette and his feet had not touched the ground since the announcer had finished the newscast, wished everyone a pleasant evening, and gone home to his wife. Gene could care less, and the happy hippy lounged back in the padded chair, his mind bouncing from nonsense to nonsense like a mouse in a cheese factory, forgetting about all the tiresome boring things of this square, unhip, ungroovy universe, most particularly, the switch which de-activated WRT- TV's transmission equipment for the night.
This was to prove most unfortunate.
Matt stirred into life just as the newscast was ending and realized that he had doted off to sleep, his half-finished glass of ginger-ale in his hand. News did not interest him generally, and he was not sorry to have missed the newscast, and started telling himself that he ought to get up and turn off the set. WRT-TV had finished its series of programs for the day and nothing more would be broadcast on this channel until tomorrow morning when General George, hopefully almost sober, would burst into the airwaves with stories and songs for the little folks. But Matt was tired, and he decided to rest a minute longer before getting up to turn off the set. This too was unfortunate.
"Please... Lynn had started to say, but she saw the whip cutting cruelly through the air again, and squirmed desperately in a futile attempt to escape that dreadful sting.
"Agh!" she groaned as the whip found it's mark, raising a welt along the length of her creamy smooth thigh.
"Open up, bitch!" Kelly was commanding, and the tormented young woman realized that anything was better than the lash again. She timidly spread her legs, sitting back and allowing the giant's dim-witted eyes to focus on the tiny tight opening almost hidden by the sparse pelt of softly curling pussy hair between her long tapered legs.
"Ummmmmmmmmmmm, look at that Freddy," Kelly prodded the stupid youth evilly. 'Did you ever see anything like that before? Wait my son, I'll show you something even more interesting." She raised the whip threateningly. "Turn over, bitch. Show him everything."