Sitting in a chair in Sheena’s hotel suite, Margo clicked on the recorder on the table between her and her subject, who sat on a chair opposite her. “So, of course, my readers will want the answers to the two questions you are certainly asked most often,” Margo began. “First, what did your parents say when their beautiful 22 year old daughter became a porn star …” |
“A fetish star,” Sheena corrected. “And actually, these days, with mainstream movies such as Fifty Shades of Gray filled with similar subject matter, the industry prefers that such work be referred to as “alternative films.”
"Very well,” Margo was not interested in terminology. “What did your parents say when they learned you were starring in ‘alternative films’?”
“They had told me that, once I had finished college, I needed to make my own decisions. I had graduated with a Bachelor of Fine Arts with a major in acting before I turned 22.”
“With dreams, I assume, of starring in less ‘alternative’ films?”
“Yes,” Sheena responded without hesitation. “And with student loans and a thousand young actors auditioning for those few parts that everyone wanted. While we all worked at part-time minimum wage jobs. Everyone knows it’s a tough profession.”
“Which leads to my second question,” Margo leaned forward. “Is that why you started doing alternative films? Because mainstream was just so hard to break into?”
“Yes and no. It’s actually a long story."
“You are now 25 and one of the most famous fetish actresses … I mean, alternative film actresses ... in the country. Our generation’s Betty Page. I have as much time as you need.”
“All right. About three years ago, I saw an ad online …”
FLASHBACK THREE YEARS
“Actress wanted for low budget film. $1000 for one day’s work.”
“Sure,” Sheena muttered to herself, sitting alone in front of her computer in her studio apartment bordering a semi-decent neighborhood in the San Fernando Valley in Los Angeles. “Like I don't know what that would require.” Sheena had often asked herself whether she might ever do “that kind” of film, and so far had answered the question “never.” But after nine months of working for $8 an hour at two part time jobs that barely covered the rent on her puny apartment, she had found hundreds of attractive young women reading for every audition that her “agent” got for her. Well, he advertised himself as an agent and agreed to take Sheena as a client, which was more than any established agent would do. And so far, at least, he hadn't tried to fuck her.
Worse, most of these beautiful women at the auditions could also act. Sheena hadn't thought that she would get discouraged so quickly. Yes, like the others, she had a stunning figure, and, unlike most of the others, hers was totally natural, including her large breasts. Thanks for the genes, Mom. Still, she knew that she was basically interchangeable with the competition. What did they say? A dime a dozen. Without a chance to read for a really good part, she couldn't distinguish herself. And without getting good parts, she couldn't get in the door to read for a character that had a real name. No, just "Receptionist" or "Waitress 2" whose main description was "she's chewing gum really hard." It was a Catch 22.
Where did all of these talented voluptuous women come from? Certainly not from her small Midwest hometown. No, Dorothy must have been talking about Los Angeles when she said “We're not in Kansas anymore.” Being the star of the high school plays, the homecoming queen and the girl that all the guys imagined they were fucking when they masturbated – the proverbial big fish in the small pond – meant nothing in Los Angeles. Each of these women could put that on her resume, although they generally left off the masturbation fantasy role. All that had given her a false sense of security and superiority that quickly vanished. No, there was nothing on her resume or in her abilities or looks that she was confident distinguished her from any other struggling actress in town.
“Kid,” she told herself, still staring at the online ad, “it doesn't say that it’s a porno film." Not that such an ad would. But she knew it had to be one. $1000 for one day’s work? That was more than union scale for most supporting parts.
She clicked on the ad, which brought up a questionnaire. She filled it out just to see what her answers would look like. Name. She had to use her real name in case they checked the credits on her resume. Address. Well, she didn't have to give them her full address, so she just wrote the part of Los Angeles where she lived. Education. Her B.F.A. certainly overqualified her for this role. Acting experience. Plenty, even if none of it had paid very much and most had paid nothing at all. Height. Weight. Hair Color. Measurements. Now they were getting to what they really wanted to know -- what she would look like naked. 5’7”. 120 pounds. Blonde, at least for now. 35C-24-34. She once had hoped those numbers would open doors for her, but they hadn't. Well, not the right doors anyway. In fact, with her big breasts, blonde hair and a name like Sheena, she could probably pass better as a porn star than a serious actress. Or perhaps the start of one of those gladiatrix or amazon movies. What did they call them? Or, right. Bodice rippers. Shit, she would take that part in a second. Attach a photo. She attached two from the portfolio that she kept on her computer. A "sexy" one and a "business" one. Damn, she thought, her "business" photo, dressed in a blue suit, white shirt and stiletto heels was far sexier than the bikini one, she thought. What did men know? She hesitated for a second, then hit “send.” After all, she wasn't committed to doing anything more if she decided that she didn't want to.
The next day she received an email response. “I would like to meet with you tomorrow at 11 a.m. at Brown's.” It was signed "Phil." Brown's was a nearby coffee shop. Since Sheena didn't work until evening that day, she could meet this Phil character the next morning. Even after meeting with him, she rationalized, she still wouldn't have to take the role even if it was offered her, if it turned out to be what she thought it would be. And she would be meeting Phil in a public place. So she typed “yes” and hit "send." What must have been an automatic reply instantly flashed “see you then.” What had she done?
* * * * *
The next morning Sheena thought about not showing up at the coffee shop, but she knew that would be unfair to Phil and she certainly did not want to get a reputation in the industry that she was unreliable, even if this audition was not really part of the “industry” as she defined the term. She arrived 15 minutes early, wearing a pair of light blue shorts and a dark blue T-shirt with a black bra and panties underneath. And her running shoes. Maybe that was psychological. In case she felt a need to run. She ordered coffee, sat at a table by herself and waited.
At 11 sharp – at least that was a good sign – a limousine pulled to the front of the coffee shop. A man dressed in a dark suit and wearing dark glasses got out of the driver's side door. He walked into the shop, holding what Sheena was sure must be one of her photos. He spotted her and nodded, but remained standing at the entrance. She finished the last sip of her coffee and walked over to him.
“Are you ready?” he asked. “I'm the company driver. I'll take you to the set.”
Sheena was caught off-guard. She had expected to speak with Phil here about the role. Getting into a limousine was much more of a commitment. “Do you … have a card?” she stammered.
“Of course." The man reached into his shirt pocket and handed her a card. She expected to see the name of the limousine company, but instead it bore the name of the same production company and phone number as did the online ad, although still with no company address.
Sheena walked over to the barrista behind the counter. She wrote her name on the back of the card and handed it to her. “Could you hold this for me?” It was obvious that she wanted someone to know who she was and where she was going. Mostly she wanted the driver to know that someone else knew. Just in case.
She followed the driver out and got into the back seat of the limousine. “Help yourself to a drink if you feel like it,” he invited her as he closed the door. Sheena didn't just "feel like a drink." She needed a drink. She poured herself a double scotch from the bar and quickly downed it. Then she realized that the windows in the back of the car were darkened so that she couldn't see out of them. She immediately panicked. “Why can't I see out of the windows?” she shouted to the driver.
“The company insists on privacy,” he replied calmly. “It’s about a 30 minute drive. You should just relax.”
Why didn't he just tell her not to think of an elephant. Privacy. $1000 for a day’s work. Right, Sheena, this wasn't going to be an audition for a porno film ("never mind the script, dear, show me if you are shaved and how good you are at giving head"). She laughed at her naiveté. But she worried what might happen when she told this Phil person that she didn't want to do a porno film, after he had sent a limousine 30 miles to pick her up? What if she was the only “actress” stupid enough to respond to the ad, so Phil and whoever else were counting on her participation? How would they react? The alcohol was only adding to the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, magnified by the knowledge that she had no idea where she was being taken. In a 30 minute car ride, that could be literally anywhere within an area larger than a small state. Sheena suddenly felt very vulnerable.
* * * * *
When the car finally stopped and the driver helped her out, Sheena found herself in the driveway of a very large two-story home surrounded by thick brush on three sides, as well as across the street from the driveway in front of it. She could see no other houses. Very secluded. No one around to hear a woman scream.
The driver signaled Sheena to follow him, and led her to a side door of the house, which he opened for her, revealing a flight of stairs leading down to the basement. The driver did not follow her as she started down, but closed the door behind her.
When she reached the basement, she found herself in a large room with black paneled walls and a high ceiling with heavy wooden rafters. She saw heavy lights hanging from several of the wooden beams. And an empty chair in the center of the room with two men seated in chairs facing it. There were two cameras on opposite sides of the empty chair, their lenses aimed directly at it, with a man standing behind each camera.
"Hello, Sheena. We're very glad to see you. Won't you take the chair of honor?” The two men rose and signaled for her to sit in the empty chair. “I am Phil, the director, and this is Ben, who has a role in the film. We are very glad to have you here.” Ben was tall and handsome, wearing black pants and shoes but no shirt. His chest was muscular. Sheena wondered if he had auditioned for his role that day. His appearance added to her certainty that this was a porn film. Sheena sat down in the chair as instructed. The cameras immediately started to roll.
“We are going to film everything that happens here,” Phil explained. “For both your protection and ours. Do you have any objection?”
“N-no. No. I don't.”
“Good. Now from your resume it is apparent that you are a well-trained actress. And certainly there is no question that you are very attractive. Those are the two primary requirements of the role in question.”
“Thank you,” Sheena replied, getting up her nerve, “but I'm not sure that this is the kind of film that requires great acting or that I really want to be in. I thought I would have a chance to discuss that with you at the coffee shop before you went to the expense of having me driven out here.”
“I'm disappointed. How can you say this isn't your kind of film when you don't yet know what kind of film it is?”
“For $1000 for one day’s work, and seeing that there is only one other actor here – and quite an attractive male actor,” Sheena nodded in Ben’s direction, “I assume that it is a porn film.”
“Ouch, Sheena. What if I told you that it is not a porn film?”
“I would be pleased if it wasn't.”
"But you answered the ad believing it was a porn film. Why did you do that if you weren't interested in acting in a porn film?" "Because I hoped it wasn't and thought it would take no more than a few minutes over coffee to find out."
“Well, you're in luck. It’s not a porn film. It’s a fetish film.”
"Oh, a fetish film.” Sheena could not hide the sarcasm in her voice. “And what is the difference between a porn film and a fetish film?”
“In a porn film, Sheena, the focus is on nudity and hardcore sex and no acting talent is required, just as you said. But in a fetish film, acting is definitely required, and the focus is on neither nudity nor hardcore sex, but on the particular fetish that is the main subject of the film. In this case, the main fetish is BDSM. I assume you know what those letters stand for.”
"Have you ever played any BDSM games with any of your lovers?”
Sheena paused, seeing that the questions were suddenly very personal. “I have let a few of my partners pin my hands over my head on the bed during sex. That’s about it.”
“Did you like that?”
“I did, actually. But you are basically saying that, in the film you're shooting, you want to tie me up for real.”
“Yes, but to be honest with you, it’s more than that. The role is that of a captured spy facing enemy interrogation. Since we can't torture the character as she really would be tortured, we need a good actress to make the scene believable. Do you think that you could play such a role convincingly?”
“I could if I chose to.”
“Good. Good. Because, quite honestly, you have the look we want. May I ask if your breasts are real?”
“They are. You want nudity, I'm sure.”
“We want realism. Do you think that an enemy needing information from a captured female spy would leave all her clothes on during questioning? No. So the film definitely requires nudity above the waist. Would that be a problem for you?”
Sheena considered this. What famous actress hadn't shown her breasts before she became well-known? Those kinds of photos filled the internet. At one time, this would have been frowned on by the public and the industry. But not in today’s world. To the contrary, several “celebrities” had started their careers with hardcore sex tapes. “I could do that,” Sheena finally replied. “And you said that hardcore sex is not …”
"Definitely is not the focus of the film. The focus is primarily on BDSM, as I said. That means that you have to act. But I'm not going to kid you. There will be some real pain to signal to you when you need to act as if it were more brutal and torturous. That’s why we need a real actress. And with an actress of your background, we won't need the whole day. Two hours will be enough, I'm sure.”
$1000 for two hours work, Sheena thought. She'd have to work a month at her part-time jobs to earn that kind of money. Now, if she just agreed to get tied up, expose her breasts and pretend she was being tortured, she'd have that in two hours. And how many people were actually going to see this low budget fetish film anyway? Certainly she didn't know anyone into BDSM. “All right. I'll do it,” she agreed. “Where is the script?”
“Great. Fantastic.” Phil stood up. “There’s no script. Low budget, remember. The whole film is one interrogation scene. After we edit it, it should run 20 to 30 minutes. But if we get more good footage, we could split it into two films. If we do, you get paid double. But don't count on that yet. We'll just have to see how it goes. So are you ready to get started?”
“Now? I was expecting some time to get into character.”
“You've got the next two hours free, don't you? Just do your best to get into character. The situation will help you a lot, I promise. And, if you're good, we might want to use you again next week. With a raise in your pay. So are you ready?”
“I – I guess so. But I want to make sure. You said there would be nudity above the waist? And most of the torture will be simulated? Meaning that I just have to pretend that the pain is worse than it really will be?”
“Yes, yes and yes, I promise you.”
* * * * *
Sheena soon found herself in a bathroom on the first floor of the house, off the kitchen. She had been give a black blouse and black pencil skirt to wear over her own black bra and panties. The clothes fit perfectly, although the black heels she was also given were half a size too large. Dressed as she was, her character, she was told, would be called in the credits the “Spy in Black.” A spy working for the government of a fictional country who had been captured by insurgents seeking its overthrow. The key information that she held, Phil told her, was the government's beliefs as to the number of insurgents in its army and where its headquarters were, and when the government planned to attack them and with what force.
Still wearing his black pants and shoes without a shirt, Ben waited with Sheena at the top of the stairs. When Phil yelled “action,” Ben immediately cuffed Sheena’s wrists behind her back and pulled a black hood over her face. Standing directly behind her, he pushed her step by step down the stairs to the basement. Sheena realized that, without a script, she had no idea what was going to happen other than she would feel a degree of pain to signal when she must react to it as if it were much greater. And that, at some point, probably early in the filming, she was going to lose her shirt and bra.
When they reached the bottom step and entered the room, Sheena immediately felt the heat of the strong lights above her. Ben moved her to the center of the room. She expected to be pushed down onto the chair in which she had previously sat, but, instead, Ben kicked her ankles apart, attached leather cuffs to them, and tied the cuffs with strong rope to rings in the floor, leaving her ankles spread more than shoulder-width apart. He walked in front of her, pulled off the hood in one motion, tossed it on the floor and grabbed her cheeks with his right hand. Sheena blinked hard several times to try to adjust to the strong light shining down on her.
“Do you understand, spy, that you are now a captive of the rebel forces?” Ben’s voice was strong. He was a decent actor, Sheena thought.
“I … am … not … a … spy,” Sheena’s words were understood, though garbled by the hold Ben had on the sides of her mouth.
Suddenly, Ben released his grip on Sheena’s cheeks, swung his arm around and brought the back of his open hand down across Sheena’s right cheek, strong enough to send her head twisting to the side. Sheena reeled. Shit, that was a much harder slap than she had imagined she would receive. She didn't have to act to make it appear that it hurt. And then a second slap came back across the other side of her face and her head jerked in the opposite direction. She shook her head to try to recover, then looked straight ahead at Ben. Damn, he pulled no punches.
“I … told … you …. I am … not … a … spy.” Without Ben’s hands on her face, her words were clearer this time and just as firm.
“Do you know what will happen to you if you do not tell me the truth?” Ben moved back behind Sheena. She turned her head to try to see what he was going to do.
“I am telling you the truth. I work for the government, yes. But I am an office clerk. I am not a spy.”
Ben leaned his face over Sheena’s left shoulder and whispered in her ear. “We are going to find out very soon.” He moved his hands around her body until the palms of his hands were on her breasts. Damn, Sheena thought. She had not asked Phil about touching, only about nudity. Now she realized that touching her breasts was also part of the scene. How stupid of her not to ask.
Slowly, Ben pressed his palms against her breasts, massaging her nipples, then moving them between his index and middle fingers and pinching them hard. Sheena grunted in pain, making it sound worse than it was, as her role required. In fact, she was very unhappy with everyone – Phil, Ben and herself – that this was part of the scene.
Ben, still pressing hard against Sheena’s breasts, moved his fingers inside the row of buttons running down the middle of her shirt, and, with one tug, yanked her shirt open, sending the buttons flying. He pulled the sides of her shirt down her shoulders, fully exposing the front of her black bra. Sheena screamed, more at the suddenness of Ben’s unexpected action than as a result of any pain. With the hot lights above her, Sheena’s entire body was already beginning to sweat. Her breathing quickened.
Ben reached into his pocket and pulled out a small switchblade. He moved it around Sheena’s body, flicked it open and held it a few inches in front of her throat. Holy shit, Sheena thought, that is a real knife near my throat. Stay still no matter what. The pace of her breathing quickened even more, and she tried to take shallow breaths so as not to move any part of her body closer to the ominous knife.
“Please. Please. I'm not a spy. I'm not. Please.” She tried to remember her role. The fear in her voice was real.
To her relief, Ben moved the blade behind her. He cut first through the sleeves of her shirt, then up through its back all the way through its collar. Finally, he closed the blade and returned it to his pocket, before grabbing the shirt collar and ripping the shirt completely off of Sheena’s body. He tossed it next to the hood in front of her.
Ben moved in front of Sheena and put his hands on her breasts, this time with only the flimsy material of her bra separating his flesh from hers. “Now that’s better, isn't it?”
“Fuck you,” Sheena screamed, the fear from the blade not yet gone from her voice. “Just do what you're going to do. You're not going to believe the truth.”
“Oh, I'll believe the truth,” Ben smiled, “as soon as I hear it from you.”
Suddenly Sheena felt hands behind her. She turned her head and saw that Phil was releasing her wrists from their cuffs. At the same time she saw the cameraman on her left move to the far wall and turn a crank. Immediately, she heard a noise above her as a chain from the rafters dropped directly over her head. The chain ended in two leather cuffs like the ones to which her ankles already had been secured.
As Phil forced Sheena’s hands above her head, Ben grabbed her wrists one at a time and secured them to the hanging leather cuffs. Sheena felt her body pulled up, drawing it into an inverted Y with her wrists cuffed together and her ankles spread apart. She now could reach the floor now only with the toes of her heels. it was not the first time in her life that she wished she were taller.
But even her struggling efforts to reach the floor were soon thwarted, as Phil kicked her shoes off and into the pile of her clothes. Now she was hanging in the air, her toes pointed in a desperate but futile effort to find the floor. Phil joined Ben in front of Sheena as the two admired their work.
“That’s better, isn't it?” Phil chided. “That should help you decide to tell us the truth. And if it doesn't …”
The pain in Sheena’s shoulders was tremendous. Alarmed, she watched as the other cameraman handed Ben a heavy single-tail whip.
“… I think this will,” Phil finished.
Sheena’s chest was heaving. “You're not going to let me go no matter what I tell you, are you?”
“Probably not,” Phil responded, “but definitely not unless you tell us the truth.” Once again Ben moved behind her. Phil walked up to Sheena and unhooked the side of her skirt, then unzipped it all the way down until it came off in his hand, leaving Sheena wearing only her bra and panties. He tossed the skirt into the growing pile of her clothes on the floor.
A second later, the crash of the whip came across her upper back. “AAAAAgggghhh,” Sheena screamed. As with the early slaps and the more recent stretch of her body, the real pain was much more than she anticipated. She didn't really have to make it sound even worse. They hardly needed a great actress for this role, she thought. No, they just needed any woman who was not a masochist.
“AAAAAggghhh,” she screamed again as a second blow of the whip crossed the back of her upper thighs. She didn't have to pretend to be trying to catch her breath. Then a third blow across the middle of her back. When she saw Ben move in front of her, Sheena’s scream grew louder.
"NNooooo,” she shook her head frantically as Ben raised the whip. “NNNNoooooo,” she screamed hopelessly as the whip ripped across her stomach. “Stop it!! Stop it!!” It was unclear whether Sheena was still in character or was actually begging for Ben to stop. Another thought crossed her mind. Didn't people into BDSM have what they called a “safe” word, a word that meant really to stop? But she hadn't thought to agree upon one. More stupidity. All because of the lure of $1000.
The whip slammed across the front of her thighs. “I'll stop when I hear the truth,” Ben answered her pleas, treating her protestations as part of her character. And then he brought the whip down hard across her breasts.
“Damn it, goddamn it,” Sheena shrieked. Phil quickly moved up to her. “Thank God,” Sheena thought. “He understands that he is going too far.” But Phil simply pushed adhesive tape across her mouth. “No more from you until you nod your head that you will talk!!”
And the next blow – the seventh in all – came up hard between Sheena’s spread legs, her panties offering no effective protection.
Now Sheena was trying to scream her garbled protests as loud as she could, unintelligible as they were. And the cameras kept rolling.
“Are you going to tell us the truth?” Phil asked again.
Sheena shook her head, protesting that she was not trying to tell him anything other than they were going too far. Too late she realized that this was an error. All he understood was that she was shaking rather than nodding, her head.
“Very well then.” Phil moved away, as Ben stepped forward. He again pulled out his switchblade and ran it under and through the left shoulder strap of Sheena’s bra, then the right, before reaching around her body to unclasp the back of her bra, letting it fall to the floor below her, leaving Sheena naked above the waist. He moved aside to allow Phil to admire her large breasts. With her chest heaving, they looked even larger than usual.
"Have you decided to tell us what we want to know?”
By this time, Sheena realized that, although the men had gone far beyond the limits as she had understood them, particularly Ben’s fondling of her breasts, whipping her between her legs and inflicting pain at a much greater level than she believed she would be required to endure, they had not done anything they had said they would not do. They simply had just done things that she had forgotten to tell them were off limits. And they probably expected an actress with a higher pain tolerance.
Sheena had no idea how much time had passed, but she figured that it was now time for her to talk. She nodded her head violently. Ben’s smile broadened and he removed the tape from her lips.
Sheena was surprised at how hard she was breathing, which made it impossible for her to speak at first. Finally, she gave the men her confession. “Yes. I am … a spy … for the …. government.”
"So you lied to us before when you denied it?” Ben’s voice was suddenly icy, sending chills through Sheena’s body.
"Yes. I lied before. I'm sorry.” Now Sheena was into her best acting form. “What do you want to know? I'll tell you anything you want to know.”
Sheena’s eyes darted to the side as she saw the cameraman wheeling a small cart over to Ben. On it, she saw a generator and wires. “Noooooo,” she screamed. “I told you that I would talk. No more pain. Please. No more pain!!”
Ben pulled two wires from the generator, one black and one red. To each was attached a clip with a serrated jaw. Sheena started to cry. Acting? Some. But this looked like it was going to hurt. She looked down at her chest as Ben attached the clips to her nipples. She gritted her teeth hard so as not to scream as their jaws tightened. She saw a drop of blood on her left nipple.
“Now, as long as you answer our questions truthfully, we will leave the electric current off. But lie to us … and, if you hesitate, that will suggest to us that you are lying, and our kindness will end. We will increase the current with each lie. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” Sheena answered immediately, still trying to reach the floor with more than three toes on each foot.
“You are a government spy?” Phil began the questioning. Ben held the dial to the generator.
“At least until you were ratted out by one of our own spies and brought to us.”
It wasn't a question, but Sheena was afraid not to answer. “Yes. I guess. I mean I didn't know how you found out, but now I do. Yes.”
Phil moved closer to her. Her stomach muscles began to twitch. He couldn't say that he wasn't getting his money’s worth from her. Shit. $1000 was a bargain for what he was putting her through.
How many soldiers does the government believe are in our army?”
Sheena had been warned at the beginning of her ordeal that this would be a key question. She was ready. “They told me to expect two thousand at the time that I infiltrated. But I estimated there were more after I joined. I sent back word there were closer to five thousand.”
Phil seemed to ponder the response. He looked at Ben, then back at Sheena, who was showing her fear. But Phil finally seemed to accept her answer. “And where do they believe our army is headquartered?”
"Four miles south of where I was captured. That is what I told my superiors.”
"How did you get word to them?”
“Twice I met a government courier in the middle of the night. Once to tell him the number of troops. Then to tell him their location.”
“When did you give them the location?”
“Two nights ago.“
Phil yelled to the far end of the room. “This bitch has jeopardized our attack. Get the word back to the troops now. We have to retreat. Plan B. Move now!!” He waited a second, as if someone in the back of the room were rushing out to obey his order, but Sheena saw there was no one there. Then Phil turned back to her.
“And when are the government troops going to attack us?”
“I—I don't know exactly. I expect soon but I don't know. I received no further message.”
Phil slowly shook his head. Sheena screamed even before Ben turned the knob on the generator, knowing what her answer meant for her. When he did turn it, she immediately felt the electric current surge into her. Low but noticeable. Even this terrified her since it was above her waist. She had read about the dangers when a lover had asked her to try it, and she had refused. But now she could feel it. And it was her duty to magnify its effect. Her body leaped forward until its restraints allowed it to move no farther. She threw her head back and screamed, but not as loud as she could, knowing that she would soon be required to increase her volume. After 10 seconds, Ben turned the knob back and she felt the current end. She collapsed back to her prior position, gasping for breath. Her body was drenched in sweat, though mostly from the hot lights above her.
“Wrong answer. Shall I ask again?”
Struggling for breath, Sheena pleaded. “It’s the truth. I don't know. I really don't know. You have to believe me. I would tell you if I knew!!”
This time Ben turned the knob farther. Sheena felt the same amount of current, but this time screamed at the top of her lungs, her body again leaping forward. Fifteen seconds. Twenty seconds. Her throat grew sore. Finally, she felt the current cut off. Now, as she fell back, she was wheezing loudly.
She doesn't know,” Phil turned to Ben. “She would have told us if she did.”
“I think she knows,” Ben’s response was loud enough for Sheena to hear.
“No. No. I don't. I don't. I would tell you. No.”
“I'll find out for sure,” Ben looked at Phil, who nodded is approval. Ben walked up to the still gasping Sheena and once more took out his switchblade. He flicked at the sides of her panties and pulled them off, leaving Sheena completely naked.
Sheena was livid. This was the first direct violation of the rules to which they had agreed and she wasn't going to take it. “Cut. Cut. Nudity only above the waist,” she screamed out of character. “We agreed.”
“We agreed on no such thing,” Phil held out his hand and Ben gave him her panties. He walked up to her, his face close to hers. “You asked about nudity and I said there would be nudity above the waist.”
“Well, I don't think that my cunt is above my waist!!”
“It’s not, I agree,” Phil jammed Sheena’s panties into her mouth and then, after Ben handed him the adhesive tape he had recently removed, re-taped her mouth shut. “But we never discussed whether there would be nudity below the waist. You never asked whether the nudity would be ONLY above the waist. So you must agree that I was truthful when I told you that there would be nudity above the waist. Why just look at you now? Except for these clips, you are nude above the waist, are you not?” He flicked the serrated jaws of the two clips attached to Sheena’s nipples, sending jolts of pain through both sides of her body.
Phil stepped aside and Ben approached Sheena, holding two more wires ending in clips with serrated jaws. Sheena’s eyes widened and she shook her head at him. Ignoring her, he attached the two new wires to her labia. “Maybe now we'll get the truth.”
Sheena clenched her teeth as she watched Ben return to the generator. She saw him turn the knob. She felt the same level of current surge through her breasts, as well as the added surge between her legs. It was still tolerable. Apparently, for safety, they had limited the generator to low power. She stared at Ben, giving no reaction. While she struggled with the pain in her shoulders, she did not arch her body forward or contort her face in pain.
Phil walked up to her, disgusted. “Give me the added pain that I need!! We don't have all day!!"
Sheena shook her head slowly. Phil tore off the tape and pulled the panties out of her mouth. “You know that I am right that I never promised you any limits. Now are you going to continue?”
“You lied to me. You know you did. You didn't keep your promise. So I don't have to keep mine. You got your money’s worth from me. You have enough footage for your film. I'm done.”
“Keep rolling the film,” Phil ordered the cameramen, who had never stopped. “You are a confessed government spy. You must pay the price for your treachery.” He walked over to the table holding the generator and picked up a hard rubber cylinder with a chain loop attached to its side. He moved back to Sheena and removed the clips from her nipples and labia, giving her some degree of relief. Until Sheena heard the sound of zipper.
Sheena yelled frantically. “No. You can't. This is way over the line. This is rape. You wouldn't dare!!” She could hear the cameras were still rolling. And knew that her body was at just the right height for the taller Phil. “This is to make sure you don't try to bite my neck, which you still could through the tape.” He moved the rubber cylinder to her mouth, but she clenched her teeth. He punched her hard in the stomach, forcing her to open her mouth to scream, and shoved the cylinder between her upper and lower jaws behind her teeth. [See Sheena Pic] Then he quickly secured it in place by looping the chain over her head and tightening it behind her neck.
A few seconds later Sheena felt Phil’s already hard penis easily enter her, prepared as her body was by the pain and fear she had suffered. He pressed his chest into hers, wrapped his arms around her body and kissed her neck. Unable to touch the floor, she felt the added strain on her shoulders and hips and wrists and ankles every time he lunged into her. “This … is … what … happens … to traitors.” With each thrust he added a word to his justification.
And, with each thrust, Sheena realized what a naïve, ignorant ass she had been. She had answered an ad for a film – it didn't matter whether it was called a porn film or a fetish film—that surely would be viewed as indicating her consent to sexual acts, including acts most would find perverse. She would never be able to convince anyone in law enforcement that she had in fact been raped. Yes, it was all on film. But the film was not in her hands. And, she knew that before any film would be released to law enforcement, the damning parts would be removed. At the same time, her violation would be on full display in glorious color for any and all who wished to pay a modest price to see her naked and abused.
Phil finally released himself into her, Sheena tried to send her mind as far away from the reality of her situation as she could. A second later he was holding her cheeks just as Ben had when the scene had first started. “I think you were saying that I can't. Do you still think now that I can't?” He pulled the chain holding the rubber gag over Sheena’s head and allowed her to spit it out. Tears ran down Sheena’s face and dropped to the floor. But she gave no other response.
"We have only used an hour and a half of the two hours you promised us. And there are three unsatisfied men in the room. All excited by your beautiful naked body." Phil squeezed Sheena’s breasts. “And your pussy is still nice and tight.” He probed it with two fingers. “And very moist. I think you've actually enjoyed making this film.”
"Bastard,” was Sheena's sole response.
"I am. And you are a traitor bitch. A good combination, I'd say.” Sheena again heard the sound of a zipper. Soon, Ben was holding up his pants for her to see. “You liked my chest before. I think you're going to like the rest of me even more.” He moved behind her. She shuddered. She felt him rub his penis between her labia. “Would you like it here? Or would you like it here?” He moved it against her anus.
“No. No. Please. No. Just normal. Please.” She screamed.
"Tell me that you want me to fuck you. And use your best acting to say it with conviction.”
Sheena took a deep breath. She knew what Ben was doing. Further protecting himself from a claim of rape by her. “I'm so horny. Please don't wait. Fuck me now. Fuck me now,” Sheena screamed the last three words. She knew that it meant that it would appear that she was begging for it. But it was either that or be sodomized by this man. And she also knew that her "fetish" film had now become pure porn.
“You want it just like Phil gave it to you?”
“Yes. Just like Phil gave it to me,” she screamed. Now Ben was protecting Phil.
“Where do you want it?” Ben yelled back at her.
“In my cunt. In my cunt.”
“And where don't you want it?”
“In my ass. In my ass.”
Ben and Phil looked at each other. Phil nodded. He knew how to edit. And Sheena realized it just a few seconds later, when Phil began to lubricate her anus.
“No!! No!! You promised!! You promised!!”
“I don't think so, sweetheart. I just asked where you wanted it. And you will be able to see the film for yourself. I'm sure it will show that you begged for it in your ass. And so your wish is my command."
Soon Sheena felt like she was being ripped apart. Ben was definitely larger than Phil. Younger. Stronger. And, no matter how tight he said her pussy was, he was now invading a much tighter place. She screamed, but her screams seemed only to excite Ben to thrust harder. She just hoped that he would not have the satisfaction of knowing that he was the very first. That she had literally failed to save her virgin ass.
By the time Ben finished and withdrew, Sheena was totally exhausted. She had given up any hope of reaching the floor with her toes, and her shoulders felt like they were about to dislocate. She realized that a low constant moan was escaping her lips.
“Men, I'm sorry,” Phil looked first at one of the cameramen, then the other. “It’s time to put her out of her misery. Maybe you can have a chance with one tomorrow.”
Sheena noticed that one of the cameras was now moving in front of her and the other behind her. From the table holding the generator, she saw Phil pick up. My God, no !! It was … a pistol and a silencer!! Sheena’s eyes and mouth opened wide. And Phil’s words finally registered in her mind. “It’s time to put her out of her misery.” Sheena screamed.
Phil saw that Sheena finally seemed to understand. “Yes, love. It’s a fetish film. But only one of its three fetishes is BDSM. The second is hardcore sex, as you just discovered. And now you will discover the third fetish.” He screwed the silencer onto the barrel of the pistol and handed it to Ben, who walked directly behind Sheena. “Which is snuff. People pay incredible amounts for snuff films.”
“You can't be serious,” Sheena shouted, pulling vainly at the cuffs holding her limbs. "Snuff films aren't real!!"
"True. Most aren't. That's why the ones that are real pay so much."
"You will never get away with this!!" Sheena was frantic.
“Oh no?” Phil licked his lips. “You answered an ad for what was clearly a porn film. You went to a coffee shop and protected yourself by leaving your card with the shop’s owner. Who happens to be my sister. She called while you were changing. I picked the place, remember?”
Sheena’s body was shaking uncontrollably as she heard Ben cock the pistol behind her.
“You let us take you to an isolated place that could be anywhere within a radius of 40 miles. And you consented on film to be screwed and sodomized. You deserve no better fate than allowing us to complete the greatest fetish film – and the most valuable -- of all time.” Phil held up his hand to make sure that Ben did not fire prematurely.
“By the way, I imagine it will be small consolation to you, but I want you to know that you were great. You played the spy wonderfully. And you broke character right when you were supposed to, so that we could begin the sex scenes seamlessly. And those were terrific. I know that I enjoyed mine and I'm sure that Ben enjoyed his just as much. In fact, you acted like you had never done before what you did with Ben. But that couldn't be. No, I think you just proved again that you are a great actress. Now we could give you to the two others here, if you'd like to delay the inevitable. I know they would be very interested.” He looked down at his watch. “Oh, no. I'm sorry. The two hours are nearly up so we don't have time for that. We only have time for what we need to do. You wouldn't want us to have to pay overtime, would you?”
Sheena was sobbing as Phil walked up to her and slid five one hundred dollar bills between each of her wrists and the cuffs holding them. “You earned it, kid. But now that you've been paid in full, we need you to honor your end of the bargain. And I don't remember saying that snuff was off-limits to you. Or did I miss that?”
Sheena felt her head spinning and her bladder release. Just as she raised her head, she heard a quick pop and felt the bullet strike between her shoulder blades. Two more pops followed in quick succession, both striking her in the middle of her back. Her head slumped back to her chest. The two cameras continued to roll.
Phil and Ben released Sheena’s wrists and ankles from the cuffs, grabbed her by her arms and legs, and placed her in the chair in which she had first sat when she arrived in the basement two hours earlier. “Full circle,” Phil said into the camera. The cameras continued to roll, one from the front and the other from the side of Sheena’s motionless body. After 20 seconds, Phil yelled “Cut. That’s a wrap.”
* * * * *
Phil walked up to Sheena’s slumped body. He pulled a small vial out of his pocket and placed it under her nose. She was startled instantly from the smelling salts, then slowly opened her eyes and looked around the room. She had no strength. She stared at Phil, then at Ben, who had joined Phil standing in front of her, and had placed a large blanket over her body.
“I am sorry,” Phil began, “that you did not pick up on the fact that I did not promise you the limits that you thought. I thought, in fact, you were pulling my leg about nudity when you did not say that you would do ONLY nudity above the waist. And you did not say that you would not engage in hardcore sex after I told you ONLY that hardcore sex was not the “focus” of the film, which it was not, though it certainly did play a role. I really could not believe that you were so naïve about what you were going to be asked to do. Again, I'm sorry for the misunderstanding.”
Sheena glanced back and forth between Phil and Ben.
“Still, as you can see, we needed to protect ourselves should you have any regrets about your decision to make the film. So you must understand that this is just the way that it is. I am going to give you an extra thousand dollars because I wouldn't have hired you if I really knew of your reluctance. And because you were terrific in the film, particularly in the final scene. You really made it seem that you believed that we were actually going to snuff you. And your bladder release was perfect. The tranquilizer bullets were just a precaution because the scene was so important.”
Sheena was still shivering under the blanket. Her mind was going in a hundred different directions. Was it really nothing more than a simple misunderstanding? If it was, it certainly was caused, in part, by her own naiveté. The pain had been greater than she expected, but that was probably because they were used to working with women more experienced in receiving pain. Although now, as Sheena thought about it, it had been rather exciting playing a totally helpless captured spy. Chained and completely naked in front of four men wishing only evil upon her. She now knew why the number of people into BDSM was so large, something she had discovered the evening after she filled out the questionnaire, when she searched online for BDSM sites and found so many. She had found one site that had databases of hundreds of films with rack torture and whipping and hot irons used on young women under all sorts of pretexts, captured spies being one of the more popular reasons. So she had not been surprised – and, in fact, was as little excited – when she learned that was to be her role in the film. She had wondered how she would react.
“I accept your apology,” she finally responded. “It was more than I expected. Far more. But you are right. You didn't make the promises I thought you had. I would say that you kept the promises that you did make, but, as you interpreted things, you never really made any promises. So I will take responsibility for my being so new to this.”
Phil’s face relaxed. “So now that you're not so new to it, what do you think? We would love to work with you again. Provided your limits aren't really those you originally expected.”
Sheena stood up slowly and walked over to pick up her bra and panties. “I left my shorts, shoes and T-shirt in the bathroom. I'm going upstairs to get dressed. When I come back, I'd like to hear what you're going to pay me on your next film. I think that my quote just went up, as they say in the industry.”
END OF FLASHBACK
“So that’s how my life in alternative films began. I quickly realized that I had never had an experience as intense as that before. And I knew that, like a virgin, I could only have that intense an experience once, like any virgin. So, since then, it’s been exiting and intense to a good degree – directors of alternative films are always trying to keep things fresh, and that means twisting plots and keeping things unexpected to get spontaneous and truthful reactions.”
“What do your parents now say about your work?” Margo asked.
“Parents are strange. They always wanted me to be financially independent. I certainly am now. They wanted me to be successful and well-known as an actress, and I am that now, too. Well, to the degree that anyone wants to consider what I do acting, but I assure you that it is. Which, I think, is why I've been successful. Now that I've accomplished what my parents wanted me to accomplish, but in my own way, they both respect me for it but regret that it is what they wished for me.”
“I have to say,” Margo responded, “that you certainly given me more candid and complete answers to my questions than anyone I have ever interviewed."
“Margo,” Sheena reached over and turned off the recorder. “You seemed to enjoy our interview. You are about my age and you are very attractive. Interviewing people like me can't pay very well. Let me get you an audition. You just might find my line of work as exciting as I do. And maybe we could do a film together.”