Stranger Than Truth Ch. 05b

Sally had some curiosity about a related subject. She had traveled out of the country on occasion as part of her job and knew that the foreign version of a movie could be quite different from the US version. In general, at least in the countries she had visited, the foreign version tended to be racier. Sally found herself wondering what extra shots would be made for those racier bits. Just how far would the director and the actors be willing to go?

They arrived at the set to find Stan and Tasha standing around while some members of the crew were arranging the furniture in the room. Although somewhat smaller, the room was a passable imitation of the lounge in Charles' mansion, Val could tell from the things being moved out that the set had just been the front room of her old apartment. Neither Stan nor Tasha were dressed like Charles or Val had been during that first night, but Valerie didn't think that was terribly important.

Barry walked over to the two actors and began explaining what he wanted in the scene.

"Tasha, you've just been teased mercilessly in the car and are ready to be soundly fucked. Stan, you're enjoying the frustration and excitement that you've created and intend to draw it out. To that end, you'll hold Tasha's hands behind her and fondle her through her clothes. Tasha, this will drive you wild and have you pleading for more direct contact. Stan won't do that; instead, he'll demand that you give him a blowjob first. Are you up to simulating that?"

"Yes. Just like Michael Douglass in Basic Instinct."

"Stan, we'll be relying on your reactions for much of the effect at this point. Unless we want to change this to a porno, we can't show the sex itself. Okay, let's run through this much." Barry gave a wave of his hand and the now familiar, "Quiet on the set!" rang out, accompanied by the warning bell.

It took several tries to get through that much of the scene. Barry stopped them frequently to make adjustments to how they presented themselves and delivered their lines. The blowjob section took five tries all by itself, before the director was satisfied with Stan's reactions. Personally, Valerie thought that all of the reactions he tried were believable, but Val had the advantage of having watched numerous men enjoy her own efforts of sucking their cocks.

Much less attention was given Tasha's technique, probably because she was so good at it. Both Sally and Valerie had trouble believing that there wasn't anything in her mouth during the takes; that was how realistic her motions and face looked. Both women had had several opportunities, since entering Charles' service, to watch others give head and Tasha had the look of giving head down pat.

After Barry was satisfied with the scene to that point, they continued on to the part where Charles had held Val against the love seat and hand fucked her. This time Tasha's reactions were the center of attention. Valerie had to admit that Gaskin was good. By the time he was done, Tasha was showing all the frustration, desire and orgasmic pleasure that Valerie had felt that night. Both submissives were impressed by the apparent lack of self consciousness on Tasha's part at the repeated exposures of her ass and pussy.

Valerie also noticed that Barry kept two lines of sight open from the wings to Tasha's rear end and Stan's hand. Clearly he was intending to take some shots of the hand fuck itself from angles that would refrain from showing just enough. She wordlessly pointed it out to Sally, who smiled as she recognized what was happening. She mouthed, "director's cut" and stifled a giggle.

Once that scene was rehearsed to death (it seemed), Barry started to address the mob that had gathered. "Okay folks. Set up for scene 73. If you don't have to be here for this scene, then get the hell off the set!" As he continued to give more detailed orders, Sally turned to scene 73 and saw that it was the beginning of the initiation weekend. Sally would lead the naked Valerie into the lounge and tie her to the chair for the first question and answer session.

The ladies had gone into some detail with Sampson about this scene. While the blindfolded fondling that had taken place in real life had been scratched, the exploration of Valerie's motives had been viewed as vital to making the audience understand what the lifestyle was about. Caroline had expressed concern that it would be easy for the producer or director to decide to cut the scene for length. If there was a choice of cutting, exposition almost always lost.

"Excuse me ladies," came the stern voice behind them. "You'll have to leave. All nude scenes are closed."

The security guard looked friendly, yet was clearly not going to take no for an answer. While Valerie was searching for a response that would allow them to stay, Melanie White ran up to them.

"Hold on, Bob. They can stay. This is one of the scenes we hired them to be experts about."

"Just a minute Mel." Barry Gaskin was walking over also. "They do not need to be here. They were hired to make sure the whipping scenes were done realistically. None of that is going on. I don't want Tasha subjected to more potential humiliation than she needs to be."

"Barry, this scene is about the essence of what makes a person a submissive. I'd think you'd want the input of a real submissive."

"I don't want their input at all. I have to take it for some things, but this is not one of them."

Sally had been nervously fingering her pass during the exchange, wondering what she could do, if anything. She looked down and noticed the wording.

"Excuse me."

What?" yelled Barry.

"This pass that Milton sent us says, 'full access,' does it not?"

"Yes, it does," Melanie replied, a smile on her face.

"That means that we can't be kicked off the set, not even by you, Mr. Gaskin."

The security guard spoke up. "She's right, sir. She has a producer's pass. She can stay if she wants."

Barry literally threw his hands up into the air. "Fine! Stay if you want. Just keep your mouths closed. It's still my movie."

As he walked away, Melanie whispered, "I for one would welcome your input. I've never been a fan of the domination and submission part of the scene. I was… am… in it for the bondage and spankings. You watch he's going to try to change the dialogue."

As if Melanie was prescient, Barry's voice rang out. "Copy! We need to change some of the dialogue. No one's going to believe this claptrap."

A young lady with a laptop ran up. Valerie and Sally moved closer to hear what Barry was dictating. "Here, when Charles asks why she went out that first night, change her response to, 'I like being fucked and felt I deserved one.'"

Valerie couldn't help herself. "Just a minute. That's not even close."

"Listen bitch, I said you were to keep quiet on this set. I neither need nor want your input."

"Barry, Valerie, what's going on?" Tasha had walked over, looking between the two irate combatants.

Valerie spoke up quickly. "He's changing your lines, making me out to be a sex maniac."

"She's getting in the way. I'm the director, changing lines is what I do."

"Let me see that." Tasha grabbed the laptop from the copy girl and looked at the change Shaking her head, Tasha actually chuckled. "Barry, no one is going to believe that." Before he could object, she held a hand up. "I don't mean no one will believe a woman wants to be fucked and feels she deserves it. They won't believe that this character would say that. For God's sake, Barry, Valerie was oblivious to the existence of BDSM before she met Charles. In many ways she was very naïve." She looked at the copy girl, instructing, "Change it back. Any dialogue changes for me have to be approved by me. It's in my contract."

Barry was fuming. He glared at Tasha and Valerie before he stormed off. Tasha looked at Valerie with a look of pity.

"You do know how to make enemies, don't you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You've questioned the great Barry Gaskin. There is no chance in hell that he will listen to anything you have to say from now on. I certainly won't be running interference for you on a regular basis. I have to work with the man in the future."

"Tasha, he wants to ruin the film, Milton's vision for the film."

"I'm not sure that's a bad thing. Milton wants to portray BDSM as some normal thing that everyone is irrationally prejudiced against. But you people are not normal, are you. It's not normal to want to be beaten as part of your sex. I don't have anything against you all, but please don't try to foist your lifestyle off as anything but weird."

"Tasha, we don't expect people to look at our sex lives as normal. I think we all know how not normal we are. But we don't want to be seen as abnormal people because of our sex lives. Outside of sex, we are as normal as anyone else. We just want to be viewed as normal people with an unusual pastime."

"I can see that. Barry never will. He thinks your kind stole his third wife from him. Lord knows he's wrong. She left him because of him, just like numbers one, two, and four. Five's on the verge of leaving as well. I'm just saying that you need to pick your battles. You're going to have to fight tooth and nail to save Milton's vision in the slightest."

The scene, once Barry's attempt to change it had been squashed, went off without a problem. There were no other problems encountered the rest of the day. None of the scenes with actual whipping were rehearsed. Valerie learned that was at the request of the actors and actresses themselves. Most were uncomfortable enough with the whips that they wanted to limit how much they had to deal with them.

The construction crews were still working when the shooting crews left the site. Sally and Valerie spent a quiet night at home, cuddling on the couch. The bruises that each had received the previous weekend had, for the most part, faded. A few of Sally's were still visible, especially on her ass. One phone call interrupted their night.

"Valerie, this is Gwen. Is Sally there?"

"Yes, she is. Sally, it's Gwen."

Sally uncurled from Valerie's lap, against which she had been relaxing. "Hi Gwen. Just a minute." Sally covered the phone. "Mistress, Gwen wants to go out with me tomorrow."

"That's wonderful. Now I won't have to find someone to look after you. You may have a free night with her."

"Thank you, Mistress." Sally turned back to the phone. "It seems I'm free and Valerie has plans already, so I'd love to go out with you. Six will be fine. That sounds like fun. So does that. Bye."

"So, what does Gwen want with my little slave?"

"She wants to see the new Pirates of the Caribbean movie."

"Is that all?"

"No, she also wants to fuck my brains out, but you already knew that, Mistress."

"Yes, I did. I have one command for you when you're out tomorrow. Make sure Gwen cums at least five times and more times than you do."

An edge of desire crept into Sally's voice as she acknowledged the command with a, "Yes, Mistress."

The couple slept soundly that night. Saturday morning and afternoon, Valerie relaxed while Sally did a number of household chores. They both found that the unequal division of household duties was a very easy way to sink into their roles as owner and slave. Sally found it a challenge to meet Valerie's exacting standards and had to redo the bathroom three times before she had it right. The threat to have her lick it clean the fourth time was never tested as to whether Valerie was serious (she wasn't).

Soon the evening was approaching and both women found themselves preparing for dates of a radically different nature. With no prior instructions as to attire, Valerie dressed in a dark red dress that came down to her knees and showed a generous amount of cleavage. She wore no bra or panties, but slipped her legs into a pair of black lace stockings held up by matching garters. Her feet were placed into 5 inch heels, the highest she could manage to walk in.

Sally was dressed to kill with a short skirt that one could reach under to find the unclad pussy it covered. Her blouse was translucent, letting the lace of her bra show through. She wore comfortable and easy to dispense with sneakers on her feet. Her make up accentuated her youthfulness, making her seem to be just barely legal.

Valerie took a cab to Mephisto's, not being sure the condition she would be in on her way home. When she arrived, Betty waved her over to the side.

"Val, are you submitting to a Sir Tom tonight?"

"Yes, that's one of my Masters tonight."

"He left a bag and instructions for you. Have you ever been to the upstairs rooms before?"

"No. Is there anything I should know?"

"Not really. They're just designed for more specific fantasies. Anyway, Sir Tom asked that you change into the outfit in the bag, the instant I give it to you, and that you go upstairs to room 204 and await further instructions."

"I see. Thank you Betty."

"Here's your uniform."

Valerie looked inside and saw a traditional French maid's uniform (the fetish version, not the realistic version). Following her instructions, she stripped in front of Betty and everyone else and put the uniform on. There was a corset, that Betty helped her tighten, that fit underneath the uniform. Little of importance was covered by the short skirt and top. Her breasts were merely supported, not protected. The corset forced them up and together, creating a deep cleavage. The skirt covered the very top of her ass and pussy, leaving the bulk of both exposed. The heels were going to be a problem. Two inches taller than the ones she wore to the club, they had her feeling like she was about to fall over onto her face.

Betty helped her walk to the elevators to the second floor, giving Valerie enough time to learn to walk with her ankles and toes on a straight line with her knees (or so it seemed). Room 204 was, irritatingly, at the end of the hall. Valerie had to balance against the wall to remain standing while she crossed the distance. Inside, she found a classic sitting room. Several large, comfortable looking chairs were in the room, each with a small table beside them and a padded footrest in front of them. Several heavy drapes hung against the walls. Somehow, Valerie could tell that they covered spaces, not just walls.

In one corner was a fully functional bar. An envelope with her name on it was propped up against a glass. She walked, carefully, over to the bar and took a sheet of paper from the envelope. "Slave, have a sex on the beach, a long island ice tea, a tom Collins and a screwdriver ready be the time we arrive. You will also need to prepare a selection of punishment devices on the platter beneath the bar. Be sure to include at least one item that Master Charles would never use on you."

Valerie took in a sharp breath. A device that Charles would never use on her. She could think of only one: the bullwhip. Putting her fear to the side, she started on the drinks, grateful for the bartending job that had seen her through college. In the process of mixing them, she found the drawer with the whips and other implements. With the drinks finished, she looked at the array of pain inflicting devices. In addition to the usual assortment of whips, floggers and paddles, there was a wand that looked much like a cattle prod. She blanched at the thought of being jolted with that much power.

However, examining it closer, she saw that it was powered by a single nine volt battery. She turned it on and tapped it gently against her arm. There was a sharp shock, though not extremely painful, and a flare from a purple colored spark. She imagined that, if you didn't know what was coming, the visible flash would be terrifying. She placed the wand, along with a selection of whips and the like on the large silver serving tray. She included a bull whip as the item her Master would never use on her.

Laughter and voices preceded the men's entrance into the room. The four Masters she had met on Wednesday night walked in, each trailing a young girl on a leash. All four men were in high spirits, as were two of the submissives. The other two women, one a short natural blond and the other a medium height Latino, looked nervous, perhaps even a little scared.

Harry looked over and saw Valerie standing there. "Ah, Valerie, very good. Set the drinks on the tables next to the chairs. Then fill the water bottles in the third drawer for the girls, will you?"

"Yes, Master."

Valerie, walking carefully in the high heels, brought each of the drinks to one of the chairs in the room. As each drink was placed, one of the men led his slave and took a seat, the girl kneeling beside him. While she was filling each of the sports bottles with tap water, Master Hugh spoke up.

"Suzette, it seems that Karen and Melody are quite nervous. Let's show them a little of what they're in for, shall we?"

"Of course Master. Where would you like me?"

"On the foot rest, face up."

Suzette lay on the oversized footrest with her arms and legs draped over the side. Her Master pulled several lengths of rope from the pouch on the side of his chair and bound her to it. Her elbows were lashed to the feet near her head, while her knees were lashed to the other feet. Her wrists and ankles were brought together and lashed. Suzette's head hung over the side in a position that Valerie recognized would facilitate her taking cocks deep in her throat. Her ass rested on the edge of the foot rest so that her pussy was free of the piece of furniture and spread open.

"Come, come, Valerie. You'll have to do better than this. The implements, now girl!"

Valerie picked up the platter and hurried as best she could to his side. He examined the implements as if he had never seen them before. He selected a crop and with no warning, slapped it against Valerie's thigh, causing her to give a yelp.

"You are serving us, tonight, Valerie. Anticipate! If we have to ask you to do something, you will be punished."

"Yes, Master. I'm sorry, Master."

Valerie looked around and saw that the other Masters were watching Hugh and Suzette while sipping their drinks. Harry was close to finishing his Tom Collins, so Val walked back to the bar and mixed him another. When she carried it over to him, he smiled and pointed to the table. She set it down and kept watch.

While this was going on, Hugh had started speaking to Suzette. "Slave, what is your purpose here tonight?"

"To provide my Masters with entertainment."

"How will you do that?"

"By submitting to whatever they wish to inflict on me."

"Is your pain pleasing to me?"

"That is my fervent wish, Master."

"Pick a number, Suzette."

She seemed to think for a moment, and then answered with, "25, Master."

"Very well, 25 to each of your breasts and your pussy."

Suzette bit back a groan and replied, "Thank you, Master."

He then flicked the crop against her left nipple with slow, measured strokes. Suzette counted each one as it landed. None of the strokes was particularly hard, but they all hit the precise same point. By the time she reached 25, her eyes were filled with tears. Without missing a beat, Hugh switched to the right nipple and the count restarted. Suzette was barely able to get the last 25 out over her tears and cries. Her eyes tried to make contact with Valerie, pleading for something.

Valerie, taking a chance, spoke up. "Master, would you like me to count for Suzette?"

"Very good, slave. Yes, please count for her, just as she did."

With that, he brought the crop down on Suzette's pussy, right in the middle. As Valerie counted from 1 to 25, she could see that, again, the strokes were not terribly hard, but were all striking the same place. Freed from the burden of counting, Suzette sobbed softly in her pain, tugging at her bonds with each blow. Once the 25^th blow had landed, Suzette thanked Master Hugh for his pain.