Audition turned to be simple fuck

You were understandably excited about the chance to get a starring role in a movie even though you were not familiar with
either the production company nor the director. But when you
arrived at the studio you first thought you must have the wrong
address. To say it was in a bad section of the city would have
been a naive statement. But then the producer who called you
told you that he did art films, so you didn’t really expect him
to have a glossy setup. At least his promise of exposure at the
Cannes Film Festival was enough to dispel any fears you may have

Once you walked inside and saw how nice the reception area was,
and how sophisticated the receptionist, your no longer doubted
the wisdom of your decision. The receptionist greeted you warmly
and asked you to have a seat until Mr. Lamborghini could come for
you. Lamborghini. Even the name was reassuring.

“Ah, Miss Anderson! How wonderful you were able to come early!
Do come in, my dear. We have everything set up, so if you like
we can begin right away.” He was a large man, handsome in a
rugged sort of way, yet his eyes were surprisingly cold even
though his smile appeared very genuine. He was well dressed with
expensive dark slacks and what appeared to be an expensive silk
shirt accented with a heavy gold chain around his neck. He took
your arm and bowed slightly as he held the door for you. The
crew were not so impressive, especially the slick looking young
man who seemed to be leering at you as though you were dessert.
There was something definitely unlikable about him, in spite of
his dark, curly hair, his California tan, and his athletic build.
Again, it was the eyes that disturbed you the most.

“All right, gang, this is the big scene now,” said Lamborghini.
We open with a long shot…”

“Mr. Lamborghini?” You were hesitant to disturb him, but some-
thing was not right here.

“What is it?” he snapped, turning to glare at you at though you
were there to clean up and not to be his star.

“Mr. Lamborghini, a friend of mine told me you’re a little dif-
ferent from other directors he knows, but shouldn’t I get ready
first? What about makeup? And what should I wear?”

He smiled, but it was not a reassuring gesture. “When I need
help, Dear, I’ll be sure you’re the first to know.”


“So! Now, Frank first we get a long shot of you coming in the
door toward Miss Anderson. She has her back turned to you,
obviously not expecting company. Her husband is gone for the
day, and you’re his best friend, so at first she’s not too
alarmed to see you. Then you tell her what you’re going to do,
and her expression turns…

The color drained from your face as you realized the old trap you
had fallen to with your eyes open. Frantically you looked around
for a way to escape. No one was looking your way, so you made a
dash for the door to the reception room. Locked! Oddly, they
were still ignoring you. You ran to a door across the room, next
to the bed that you had not noticed until now. Locked!

“…then her husband comes in and sees you in bed with her. At
first he is angry, but then he gets all excited by what you’re
doing…Look, Miss Anderson. You’re not going anywhere. Don’t
make this hard for all of us. O.K., now that she’s all hot and
bothered, we’re going to have to make a little revision here.
Might be more interesting this way. All right, Frank. We’ll
start where she already knows what’s going to happen to her.
Lights! Roll ’em! Action! Go get ‘er, Frank!”

The one called Frank lunged at you and began pawing at your
blouse as he pushed you back toward the bed. You screamed and
tried to push him away, but he got his hand on the neck of your
blouse and ripped it off from you. He laughed and tore at your
skirt as you tripped and fell backwards onto the bed.

The camera moved in for close ups as Frank pinned you to the bed
with one arm and casually pulled your bra off with his right
hand. He grabbed your full young breasts with both hands and
tried to kiss you as you jerked and twisted beneath him trying to
avoid his lips. You screamed then and he reared up to slap you
hard across the face. Stunned and in shock at the suddenness and
viciousness of his attack, you fell back while he slowly and
deliberately slipped your panties down over your legs and tossed
them aside. You screamed again as he spread your legs for the
camera, but you knew you were helpless to resist all of them.

Suddenly the cameraman stood up, almost dropping his portable
camera. There was no sound but the faint whirring of an exhaust
fan somewhere in the next room. A very large black man loomed up
over you, and the one called Frank rose up in the air as though
snatched up by a construction crane. The black man tossed him
against the wall as easily a though he were a pillow.

“Hobbes!” Lamborghini cried. “Look, Mr. Hobbes, we didn’t know
you wanted to watch the filming. I mean, hey! Sure, come on in!
Make yourself at home. Jane! Get a drink for the boys! Sit

“Shut up!” the black man snapped, at the same time stepping aside
to let the tall, quiet man face Lamborghini who was visibly

“Mr. Hobbes…please!”

The black man smashed Lamborghini in the face, then pulled out an
awesome-looking black automatic and stuck it in the man’s mouth
so his chattering teeth made little clicking sounds on the cold

The tall man didn’t look dangerous at all. He was quiet, even
scholarly in appearance with his unassuming glasses and the touch
of gray at his temples. It was the voice that chilled the room.
He spoke softly, without emotion. “Nick, give the girl your
coat. She’s coming with us…Lamborghini, you know your job
better than this. We don’t use amateurs when I finance your
films. This is business. You get your kicks on some other
playground, but not with my money.”

“Look, Hobbes…” Lamborghini mumbled around the barrel of the

“MISTER Hobbes.” Nick pushed the barrel of the gun further into
Lamborghini’s mouth.

“Mifter ‘obbes…”

“Let’s go, Nick. Get the girl.”

The big black man covered you with surprising gentleness, then
lifted you as though you were weightless. He held you securely
cradled in one massive arm, taking the reception area door’s knob
with the other hand. He shrugged, took one step backward and
smashed it open with his foot. With practiced ease he opened
the door of the black limousine and placed you on the seat as
gently as though you were a baby. The man called Hobbes got in
beside you, Nick slipped in next to the driver, and the car
rolled away from the curb with scarcely a sound.

“Soundproof, bulletproof…would you like a drink?” Hobbes asked
with a surprisingly gentle smile.

Still in shock, you looked at him blankly and tried to pull the
coat down further.

“I would have offered you my own coat,” he explained softly, “but
as you can see, Nick’s coat covers more of you. Look, Miss, I’m
sorry about all of this. Lamborghini’s a fool. Nobody screws
around…Oops! Sorry. You’re understandably upset. I Don’t
want to add to it.” He smiled again and leaned back without
looking at you until the limo pulled up to the building with the
red-uniformed doorman.

“Mr. Hobbes! Welcome, Sir. Would you like any help, Sir?” You
were beginning to recover enough to wonder at the way the doorman
pretended not to notice that you were clad only in an oversized
man’s suit coat. You couldn’t help wondering how common it was
for this quiet stranger to come here with scantily clad girls.
As you slowly got out of the limo, the doorman graciously covered
you with his own long coat and an attendant rushed out to offer
assistance. Thinking more clearly now you decided that if you
were going to be raped, it might as well be in style.

“Forget it, Miss,” Hobbes said with a trace of a laugh in his
voice. I brought you here for a hot bath and some new clothes.
Nothing more.”

You blushed in spite of yourself, and tried to duck down inside
the coat so he couldn’t see.

The suite was spacious, and servants seemed to be everywhere. One
bright young woman rushed you off to the palatial bathroom and
for the next hour you lay back in a huge, sunken marble tub
wondering if you were dreaming.

The young servant brought you a beautiful silk gown and a large
Japanese kimono to wrap around it. She dried you and helped you
dress, then led you back into the living room. Only the man
called Hobbes was there. The servants had all disappeared.

He looked up and whistled softly, and you blushed again in spite
of yourself.

“Well! For the first time I believe it wouldn’t be so bad to be
a dirty old man!” he exclaimed with a cheerful laugh. “But of
course you’re a guest, so you’re quite safe, my little friend.”
He chuckled and you smiled without really knowing why.


Subject: 2/2 Audition

“Do you have any pets?”

“Hmmmm…Well, I don’t know about this…What the hell! Would
you like to see mine? Her name is Aiki.”


“That’s right. She’s a pretty little bitch, exceptionally well
trained. Maybe she can help you relax after what you’ve been

You’re face brightened and you nodded your assent.

“Aiki! Here, girl!” Hobbes called, then whistled.

Much to your surprise, a beautiful young Japanese girl slipped
into the room, wearing a see-through blouse and a very short
mini-skirt. At first you thought she was wearing some kind of
jeweled necklace, then to your astonishment you realized it was a
studded dog collar! The next thing you realized was that her
little brown nipples were clearly showing through the sheer

She came up to Hobbes and knelt respectfully in front of him
while he reached down to fondle her pretty little breasts through
the cloth.

“This is our guest, Aiki. Would you like to show her how we
treat pretty young ladies here? Be nice to her now.”

You were unsure just what to do when the girl stood up and came
to kneel before you. Very gently she moved the folds of the
kimono aside and raised the hem of your gown so that she could
get her face up between your thighs.

“No!” You jumped back as her warm tongue touched you.

The girl looked startled, and turned to Hobbes with a questioning

“It’s O.K., Aiki. Maybe she doesn’t like to have it that way.
Why don’t you just remove your skirt and give us a little demon-
stration. Would you like that?”

The girl smiled and pulled her skirt off. She was not wearing
panties, but what startled you even more was that she was com-
pletely bare. As you watched, she knelt with her thighs spread
and slowly masturbated herself in front of you.

“That’s enough, Aiki. Now take off your blouse and get down on
your hands and knees and run around the room for us.”

The Japanese girl was naked in a moment, obediently got down on
her hands and knees and began crawling around the room.

“Well, what would you like to do with her, Dear? She’s yours for
as long as she gives you any pleasure. You can ride on her back,
have her eat you, you can give her enemas, have her do interest-
ing little things to herself…”

“What do you mean!?” you cried in dismay. Yet in spite of your-
self the possibilities began to race through your mind.

“Why is she doing this?”

“She’s a sex slave.”


“A sex slave. She does anything that gives me pleasure, and she
does it willingly.”

“Anything?” Your voice was suddenly husky.

“Come here, Aiki.”

Still crawling on her hands and knees, the girl came up to Hobbes
with a big smile and waited.

“Get it out, Aiki. Show our guest how good you are.”

The girl obediently unzipped Hobbes trousers and pulled out his
erect penis. She moved forward, took it into her mouth and began
sucking it like a piece of candy.

“That’s enough, Aiki. Bring the whip, the multi-thonged one.”

The girl crawled away, and you cried out “No! Don’t do that to
her. You can’t.”

“Would you rather I’d do something else to her? We don’t want to
leave any marks on her pretty body, but I’m open to suggestion.”

“Isn’t there anything else you can do? Make love to her, or

“Of course. Or I can do the same for you, if you like.” He was
smiling, but there was nothing threatening in his manner. You
knew that it was intended as a free choice.

“Will she…ah…can she…”

“Of course, if you’ll let her. Aiki! Come here! No, no. Get
up, Aiki. Give me the whip and let’s see you do something nice
for our guest now. She won’t jump this time. If she does, we’ll
try the whip on her!”

You knew he was joking, yet something about the suggestion excit-
ed you in spite of yourself. Now Aiki was undressing you, and
you trembled with expectation at the feel of her warm tongue. She
held you close to her, with you still standing and she kneeling
between you thighs, licking and sucking you until you thought you
could stand it no longer. Then as you began to come, you felt a
sharp sting on your little buttocks, and the sound of the whip as
it stung you. Yet you could not move from t he eager tongue, and
you waited with fearful anticipation for the next blow. It did
not come.

Instead, Hobbes laughed. “Just couldn’t resist that the way you
were squirming around Aiki’s tongue. What a fascinating sight
you two made.”

Pulling away from Aiki’s face, slipping her hands away from your
thighs, you looked at Hobbes with a mixture of desire and anger.
“How could you!?” you demanded. “You said you wouldn’t hurt me!”

“And did I?” asked Hobbes easily, looking at your naked body with
great interest.

“Well, no…not really.” You rubbed the spot that still stung
slightly, then spread your thighs slightly as he came up to you
and slipped his right hand down to fondle your labia. He stopped
then and put both arms around you to hold your naked body close
to him. One hand reached down to lightly rub your little butt
while the other gently massaged your shoulders.

Suddenly you squeaked as you felt Aiki’s tongue flicking you from
behind, trying to get in between your little buttocks.

“Don’t do that!” you squealed, but then she gently pulled the
cheeks apart and with Hobbes feeling of your labia and fingering
your clit from the front and Aiki running her hot tongue in
against your anus, you sighed and let them have total access to
your warm body.

The evening was the most memorable of your life, one you longed
to experience again and again. Hobbes and Aiki taught you so
much that you had never known, and now could not live without.
But it’s late, and biographers are human. So we must conclude
and come back some other evening.

When you awoke the next morning, in your own apartment with no
memory of how you got there, the phone rang as you were getting

“Miss Anderson?” The voice was unfamiliar, and you were wary.


“Miss Anderson, my name is Harry Franklin. I’m a producer with
New International Studios.”

“Oh, my! Another porn movie! Look, fellow, forget…”

“No! No! Don’t you recognize my name? I’m horrified! Two
Academy Awards in five years, and you don’t know ME? Please,
Miss Anderson, don’t break my spirit and threaten my life at the
same time!”

“Yes. Yes, I do recognize your name. But you’ve got to be
playing some kind of a cruel joke. I want to be an actress, but
you couldn’t possibly be offering me a chance to be in one of
your movies! How do you know I can even act?”

“Miss Anderson, you can learn to act a whole lot more easily than
I can learn to swim!”


“Mario Lamborghini was fished out of the river this morning.”