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Maryann Wolfowitz stood outside the door to the
photographer’s studio, alternately raising and lowering her hand, trying
to find the courage to knock. She had been preparing for a moment like
this all her life and, now, here it was—her first modeling assignment. She
should have been thrilled; after all, her agent told her that it would
help her reach her ultimate goal, a role in a movie.
She had to be noticed!
And what better way than to do a lingerie spread?
Oh well, she sighed. You paid for these tits and you paid for the blonde
hair, so you might as well go through with it.
Finally mustering the courage to knock, she banged on the door three
times. A second later a raspy buzzer sounded, and she stepped into a small
reception area.
She stared at the thin man walking towards her with his hand extended. If
there ever was a stereotype of a flaming gay man, he was it. His physical
appearance reminded her of every Hollywood portrayal of a gay man she had
ever seen – short hair, muscular, a neatly trimmed mustache, and great
tan. His clothing, she decided, was straight out of Greenwich
Village--tight leather pants, tight reddish-pink tee shirt, white huarache
sandals with no socks under them, and a mauve scarf loosely hung over his
shoulders.
“Maryann?” he cried. “Oh my God. Your agent was right. You’re gorgeous!”
“Thank you,” she muttered. A sense of relief flowed through her, draining
the nervousness out of her body. She would be safe with this man. He, for
sure, wasn’t going to hit on her.
“Beautiful blonde with jade-green eyes! What could be better? Come in,
come in!” he shouted. His hands, held limp at the wrist, fluttered in
unpredictable, random patterns as he tiptoed towards her. “You’re here for
the lingerie shots, right?”
“Y...yes,” she stammered.
“Good. I’m Ty—short for Tyrone. Normally my assistant Brad would be here,
but we’re having a bit of a tiff and...well, you know how that goes. A
girl named Melanie will be helping us.”
He floated over to Maryann and whispered in her ear. “I don’t like her.
She’s such a bitch!”
Ty grabbed Maryann’s hand and led her into the main studio, a large area
with cameras on boom stands, lighting umbrellas placed in a circular
pattern, a large blue screen that sat behind a small stage, and numerous
couches and chairs. A bed sat off to one corner, also in front of a blue
screen.
“Maryann,” Ty said. “Say hello to Melanie while I make sure all the power
is on.” As Ty flitted around the studio, a slender, pretty young woman in
her twenties shook Melanie’s hand. She flicked her long black hair over
her shoulder, rolled her eyes, and glanced in Ty’s direction.
“Well,” Melanie whispered. “At least no horn dog is going to be watching
you.”
Maryann stifled a giggle and said, “Yeah. That’s a relief.”
“Okaaaaaaaaaaaay,” Ty shouted. “Maryann – come over here and stand on the
stage. First, we’re going to do a little interview, okay?”
“Okay.”
“No let me get this straight,” Ty said. “You’re doing a lingerie shoot,
but my assistant said that you also wanted to do some publicity shots. Is
that right?”
“Uh huh,” Maryann said. “I want to put together a portfolio to, you know,
pursue some acting roles.”
Ty’s expression grew serious. His brow furrowed, his lips turned down, and
he sighed. “Okay, now,” he said. “You know what this business is all
about. It’s all about skin. Will you work with me, Maryann? If you do, if
you trust me, we can work wonders. Will you work with me?”
“Well, I guess so.”
Ty clapped his hands and smiled. “Will you?” he shouted.
“Yes,” she said, giggling.
“Will you really?”
“Yes! I will!”
“Good! We have your unmentionables in the changing room. What I want you
to do is put them on, then put your skirt and blouse back on, and then
come out here.”
“You...you want me to put my clothes back on?”
“Yes—trust me!”
“Am I dressed okay?”
“Oh, perfect,” Ty said. “Navy blue mini and white blouse? What could be
better?”
Maryann shrugged and followed Melanie to the changing room. She changed
into a pair of black lace bikini panties and black mesh bra, and then she
pulled her skirt and blouse back on. She was concerned that the bra showed
through the blouse, but Ty seemed to know what he was doing.
Loud music with a heavy drum beat greeted her when she stepped back into
the studio.
“Wonderful!” Ty said. “Get on the stage and I’ll ask you some questions.
I’ll also give you a little direction and you just follow along.”
Maryann stepped onto the stage and faced Ty, shifting her weight from foot
to foot, waiting for instructions.
“Okay, honey! Move your hips to the music. Tell me, are you nervous?”
Maryann shuffled her feet back and forth and said, “Yes.”
“Move your hips,” Ty shouted. “Like me!!’ He jumped on the stage and
started performing a wild dance next to her.
She laughed and tried to match his motions.
“Great,” he shouted. “Move just like that. Now, start to unbutton and
answer my questions. Are you nervous?”
“Yes,” Maryann said, trying to control her laughter.
“No! No! You can laugh! It’s perfect! So, is this your first time?”
“Uh huh,” she said as she reached the bottom button.
“Let it fall to the ground!” Ty yelled. “Spin around and wiggle your ass
for me.”
Maryann broke into a loud laugh. “What?” she asked.
“Do it! Come on – let go!”
The music and the heat of the lights made her feel lightheaded. She turned
her back and tried to act like a seductress, moving her hips in circular
patterns.
“Yes! Great. We’ll have you take off your skirt now. Push it down to the
floor, kick it away, and then turn around. Are you hot?”
“Yes,” Maryann said, a slight moan escaping from her lips.
Ty jumped on the stage and whispered in her ear. “We have to do this three
more times. That’s how many outfits you have to wear. Since you have to
take them off, let me photograph you in the nude. It’ll be perfect for
your portfolio.”
“Nude? I...”
“What are you afraid of?” Ty laughed. “Melanie. Melanie – are you gay? Are
you gonna do a lezbo move on Maryann here?”
Melanie rolled her eyes again and shook her head from side to side. “No,
Ty,” she said. “I’m not gay.”
“What do you say, Maryann?”
“Okay,” Maryann shouted. “Why not!”
She unhooked the bra and tossed it aside. Her nipples, hard from
excitement, stood out on top of her C-cup artificial boobs.
“Perfect,” Ty said as he hovered behind a camera. “Now the undies! And act
sexy!”
Maryann started blowing kisses towards him as she shimmied out of the
panties.
“Shaved kitty-kat! Great! Great! Squeeze your tits, honey! One squeeze and
then go change into the next outfit.”
They performed the same sequence three more times. Maryann’s actions
became more seductive with each shoot. She bent over from the waist with
her back to the camera. She touched herself between the legs and uttered
fake orgasmic noises. She put her fingers in her mouth and sucked on them.
When she had shed the last set of lingerie, Ty shouted, “Hurry! While
you’re naked, go to the bed. I’ll take some shots of you lying down.”
He told her to moan when she was on her back. He told her to pout when she
was on her stomach. Then, he said, “Let’s do a little bit of acting. Show
me fear! Scream for me. Scream like Fay Wray in King Kong!”
Maryann screamed like the big gorilla itself was only feet away from her.
“Show me pain. Someone’s hurting you!”
She squeezed her eyes shut, grabbed her head with both hand, pretended she
was in the dentist’s office, and whimpered.
“Now show me lust!” Ty cried. “Come for me, baby.”
Maryann rolled her tongue over her lips and moaned in ecstasy, her orgasm
sounding all too real.
“Okay, honey,” Ty said. “We’re done. I’ll get the prints to the client,
make copies for you, and put together a video for you.”
Maryann threw her hands around his neck, pressed her breasts against his
chest, and kissed him. “Thank you,” she said. “This was a wonderful day.”
“Make sure you sign the release forms,” Melanie said. “Ty tends to forget
minor details like that.”
Ty put his hands on his hips and glared at Melanie. “I’m the photographer,
remember? I’m not the office assistant.”
“Whatever,” Melanie mumbled
“I’ll sign them,” Maryann said. “Don’t worry.”
Ten minutes later, after she had changed back into her clothes, she blew
Melanie and Ty a kiss as she left the studio. Later that day, she told her
husband how nice Ty had been, and how she truly believed she’d be in a
movie any day.
“Well, Ty,” Melanie snipped after Maryann left. “Now what?”
He grabbed her and threw her on the bed. “Now we fuck our brains out.
Christ, she turned me on.”
“I thought you were gay,” Melanie giggled.
“Yeah, well, think again.”
“I think maybe you’re switching teams. I think the act is getting to you.”
“Fuck you,” he laughed.
Melanie shimmied out of her jeans and spread her legs. “I’m waiting, big
boy.”
****
“When are you going to be done?” Melanie asked.
“She was the last one. I’ll have ninety minutes of video. That should be
enough. My only issue now is what tattoo to use.”
Ty spent the next two days working magic with his video editor,
superimposing Maryann’s head onto the bodies of other women, adding a
tattoo here and there, and adding her body to other women’s heads. He
layered stock footage on top of her and, when he was done, he had a video
of a young woman auditioning for a part in a porno film, recoiling in fear
from the giant pole being pushed into her mouth, screaming in pain when
her ass was ravaged, and whimpering afterwards. In other words, every
pathetic sicko’s dream video.
Three days later he sat across the table from Mel Weiss, the largest
seller of Internet pornography in the country.
Mel let out a low whistle as he watched the DVD. “This last one, the one
with the green eyes, where did you find her?”
“She found me. They come to me, remember?”
"Where did you film her? Hawaii?”
"Bluescreen, asshole," Ty sighed. "It's a superimposed background."
“Ah ha. Did you get all the releases signed?”
“Yep.”
“How much?”
“How many do you think you could sell?”
“Of this? Shit! Two hundred thousand, easily. I could sell a million of
the individual three minute clips, too.”
“Five bucks per video, one per clip,” Ty said.
“Done. I think I’ll call it Screaming Anal Virgins or something like
that.”
“Whatever,” Ty muttered. He felt a slight bit of remorse for what he had
done, especially to Maryann, but she was safe. The bluescreened
background, the tattoos, the differences in bodies—all these were intended
to ensure that the girls could never be truly identified. At best, someone
might tell a girl that they saw a porno film that had an actress that
looked like her.
He signed a contract, shook Mel’s hand, and left the office, stopping in
the men’s room to wash away Mel’s sliminess. He stared at his reflection
in the mirror and laughed. It seemed to be asking him, “Well, are you
happy?”
“Yes,” Ty replied. “But I sure as hell ain’t gay!” |
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