The indie writer/director/actor extraordinaire Khloe Diamandis and her trusted crew were shooting yet another addition to her award-winning series, The Evil Stepmothers' Coven. The combination of witchcraft and torture had proven an surprisingly winning combination in the hearts and minds of porn lovers!
"Face up and to the camera, boy!" barked Desdemona in her gravely voice. He was hanging from the ceiling by the wrists.
"Relax," Elena said. "We're not getting his face."
"Yeah," chimed in Roxane with the camera, grinning. "This scene's going to be way below the neck."
"And speaking of which," added Khloe on the couch, "why don't you drop those panties now? He'll no longer be needing them. " As Desmodena then unceremoniously yanked them down, Khole smiled. "I can see the drug has taken full effect. Nice."
Desmodena grabbed the boy's stiff member, scraping one long fingernail across it's impressive length. She scowled at him. "He is way too skinny," she grumbled. "But at least he is thick where it counts."
Khloe slowly shook her head. Desmodena wasn't the easiest character to work with. But then no one quite handled a boy like the old girl did, made him cry quite so well, so she more than earned her place in the crew. "The spreader bar?"
"Right," Elena said, retrieving the device.
Khloe stood up, then gave the air a few whooshing practice swats with her crop. "Ah. The beginning is always the best part." She looked up at the boy's face and his wide, red-rimmed eyes met hers. She murmured a satisfied and more than a little aroused laugh. "He's good and afraid. As well as he should be."
Desmodena studied him with frown while working his meat none so gently. "We really ought to get more cameras. The audience wants to see the expressions on his face."
Really, this conversation again?
Roxane rolled her eyes as she walked over. "You know as well as anyone that we shoot the facial shots separately. All tomorrow afternoon is booked for that, after the morning's gang-rape scene."
In fact, the shooting schedules were so tight in these shoestring budged productions they had only two days to wrap it up. Today for all the whipping and caning scenes plus the more detailed CBT-footage on the torture table, then tomorrow for the rest. "So don't worry, Khloe added, "we'll get every nuance of fear, pain and humiliation that women like seeing on a pretty boy's face." And what was best, all authentic!
"It's not the same."
"No," Roxane agreed, reaching to fondle the boy's shaved balls while Elena was spreding his legs out for the manacles in the spreader-bar. "It's even better."
"At least the camera gets the sound pretty well," Khloe offered. "Real-time."
"Sure," Desmodena agreed begrudginly. "At least there's that." She glanced at the camera. "We're running?"
"All the time," said Roxane.
"Well let's get to it then!"
With the boy spread-out, dangling naked and helpless, the ladies took their places around him. Their crops caressed his cock and balls, teasing what was to come. The boy whimpered into his gag and squirmed delightfully, making the women smile. Even Desmodea wore that most chilling grin of hers.
Khloe admired their victim. A lovely teen, fresh and well-endowed with a beautiful, boyish face. She'd acquired him dirt-cheap, as usual. Skinny though he might have been, she had the feeling that he had all the makings of a big star.
"Everyone ready?"
They were. Everyone but him. As it should be.
"Aaaand, action!"