tagNonConsent/ReluctanceTaken Six Times

Taken Six Times

byLinda Jean©

This is the story of a young actress, a woman just starting out in the movie business whose agent got her a part in a movie with a 6 a.m. call. Linda showed up an hour before the time she was set to be there. She wanted to make a good impression on the director.

She was also going to be making her first movie, according to her agent. Linda had seen many of Mr. Harris' movies and she wanted to really do a good job. She knew that if she did, it would mean more acting jobs in other movies.

Linda's husband, Peter, is an accountant in a large L.A. firm and he shared in Linda's excitement, knowing this could be her big break. The script she was sent had her as the first victim of a serial rapist. She had four pages of lines and she had them down pat.

Linda was also full of questions because the script painted a rather graphic scene for her. The script she was sent simply said at the top, "Unnamed script" Her agent said that Hollywood does that sometimes so no one finds out what movie is being made and helps with the secrecy.

The bad guy was simply given the name of Jake, and the rapist was described as a big black man who got off on forcing women to submit to him. The main star of the film was a female detective whose job it became to catch him before he could rape again.

They called Linda in to makeup. While she was sitting in the chair, one of Mr. Harris' assistants came over to meet her and answer any questions. She also went over Linda's lines.

The assistant asked Linda if she had any questions. Linda started off by saying, "I have never had a sex scene in anything before this. How do I, I mean, how will we do it, you know, without really doing it?"

The woman said, "Oh, you're not in any sex scene, honey. It is a simple rape sequence. Ron is going to pick you up at a the bar, drug you and take you back to your apartment where you fall asleep. You wake up with him entering you. That is when you go nuts trying to fight him off."

Linda interrupted her and asked, "Who is Ron? I thought Jake was raping me?"

The assistant gave her a look and said, "Ron Patterson -- he is the bad guy in the film. Didn't you read the script we sent over?"

Linda felt a little foolish. She had read it, but all the script said was the name Jake and First Victim (yet to be named) She had no idea who the bad guy was. The name Ron Patterson sure as hell did not ring any bells.

Linda said, "Yeah, I read it. I didn't know the actor playing Jake was Ron Patterson. I'm new to all this. How is he going to rape me without, you know, actually doing it?"

The woman said, "Honey, that is what acting is all about. We know what to do, what camera angle to get to make something that is fake look real. Right before the rape they will put a cover over your privates and Ron, I mean, Jake will put on a sling cover on his front. It is like a glove so nothing will be touching anything. Don't worry, we do this all the time. Now get in there and get your dress on."

They had been walking and talking, so when the assistant said to get into wardrobe Linda was already at the trailer door. Stepping into wardrobe, a woman walked up and asked her if she was Victim Number One. It threw her for a moment because she almost forgot that her character did not have a name yet.

She said, "Yes, I am. When do they give me a name?"

The woman said, "I don't know, honey, it's just my job to get you dressed for your scene."

They put her in a very sexy evening dress. The script mentioned that Jake would pick his victims from high-class parties, drug them and take them back to their homes where he would rape them while filming his act on a video camera to keep for his personal collection. In the story that is how he gets caught and convicted.

After she was dressed, Linda looked in the mirror and wished that her husband was there to see how beautiful they had made her look. She felt lovely and sophisticated. Linda walked out to the set, where everyone seemed busy doing all kinds of things. People were working the lights, all kinds of people were just standing around, and everyone was waiting.

Linda walked up to the lady who had escorted her to wardrobe and asked, "Where should I stand?"

The assistant yelled over to another person and asked, "Where do you want Victim Number One at?"

The man pointed to a table, but another man yelled out, "No, I want her at the bar, getting a drink, when Ron comes in. He'll walk over to her and listen to the music. When she turns around, he drops the pill in, and when she finishes the drink, he takes her on the dance floor and out the door."

The lady asked, "Do we have a name for her yet?"

He didn't say anything.

The lady looked at Linda. "You got a name, honey, you want to be called?"

I looked at her and all I could think of was Rose, so I told her and she said, "No, can't use Rose; we have a Rose. How about Audrey? That'd work." Then, yelling out to the same man, she asked, "How's Audrey work? Want to call Victim One Audrey?"

The man looked up and nodded his head, and the woman said, "OK, honey, Audrey it is. I'll let the scriptwriter know we have a name. Now, go stand at the bar and when the director says 'action,' act like you are listening to the music and just drinking your drink."

I walked over to an empty stool (the only one) and stood next to it. After all she did say to stand. I waited for a long time and finally someone yelled out, "Quiet on the set! Everybody ready!"

"We are playing a tech disco song, make it 'Locomotion.' Everybody make it look like you are having fun, but no one say one word except Jake and ... what's her name?"

A woman yelled out, "Audrey."

The man said, "OK, Audrey, you ready?"

He did not wait for an answer, just started giving directions. He said, "When Jake takes you on the dance floor, just follow him. This is a quick scene. I don't want to be here all fucking day."

"OK, everyone, ready, ACTION!"

I stood there and I expected to hear music. I picked up the glass in front of me and sipped it, it was tea. I looked in the mirror and everyone looked like they were dancing and talking but even with all the movement going on, there was not one sound. The bartender was walking up to people and it looked like he was asking them what they wanted and he began mixing drinks. The only sound I could hear was the sounds the glasses made when he mixed the fake drinks.

I was lost in what I was seeing when I realized that the guy playing Jake had walked up next to me. He said, "Hi, doll, are you using this stool?" My line was, "No, it's empty, sit down," and then I heard someone yell, "CUT!"

"Where's my fucking sound? I can't hear a goddamn word she is saying. Do it again and make sure I get her voice. Ready, now, ACTION!"

It all started over again and this time when I said my line, Jake sat down and asked if he could buy me another drink. I responded with my line, "I'm drinking screwdrivers." Jake motioned with his hand for another drink and right away it was there. I was to turn and look at the dancing and while my back was turned to Jake he was to drop a pill into my drink.

I moved a little like I was enjoying the music keeping a beat going in my head that seemed to match what everyone else in the room was doing. Jake handed me my drink and asked me to hold his stool a minute while he made a call. I picked up my drink and said I would.

He left and as he walked, the camera followed him. A person tapped me on my shoulder, and I turned to be handed an empty glass. A few moments went by and Jake was back. He walked up to me and asked me to dance.

I knew that this part was going to be difficult for me because I am not a good dancer even when music is playing. We went out and the cameras were so close I was afraid we were going to hit them. Needless to say, I was not doing well and Jake's next line asked, "Are you all right, honey? You look out of it." I knew my next line, "Yeah, I need to go home." Jake stopped dancing and walked me to the door. We walked out and the director yelled, "CUT!"

"Great. Now get over to the set four and let's get this shot this morning."

We did not have to walk far, maybe four or five feet, where they had a set-up like a small apartment. I was supposed to be barely able to walk, according to the script. When the director yelled action, Jake opened the door and with me draped around him he brought me in and dropped me on the bed.

I was to lay there while he undressed me and laid me down under the covers. According to the script I was given, they wanted an R rating, so the only things that could be shown were my breasts.

Jake skillfully undressed what appeared to be my almost-passed-out body. While this was going on, I was to mumble, but not actually say anything. He got me under the covers and went to the other side, undressed and also slipped under the covers. The director again yelled "CUT!"

"Get the covers in place and let's get this done," he told the crew.

He walked over to the bed looking at me and said, "Honey, you are doing great. Now, don't fuck this up. Let's get a nice clean take and get out of here.

"Give me a good rape scene and you can go."

Jake threw off the covers and sat there while someone from wardrobe came over and handed him something. At the same time a woman came over to me and had me stand, putting a robe on me as I stood. She knelt down and pressed a molded, latex, flesh-looking cover down over my private parts.

She said, "Give it a moment, and it will stick. I should have shaved you, but I did not know you had so much hair. It should hold, but if it comes off, let me know and I'll shave you."

All the time this was going on, the crew members were all busy changing lights and setting up cameras. I heard Jake complain, saying, "Jesus, this is too fucking small. This ain't going to hold me. I need a larger size."

One of the assistants said, "Yeah, in your mind."

The director came over and after talking with Jake said, "Use tape. Just tape him in it."

Jake said disgustedly, "Great, this is fucking great!"

I laid back down in bed under the covers and they finished with Jake and he got in bed with me. The director came over to us and said, "Now listen, Jake, this is going good, don't fuck this up. Do your scene and make it look real but no fucking hanky-panky under there and I fucking mean it. Your fucking fingers do not go any lower than her belly button and the closest you get to her is her upper thigh. You got that? I don't need another fucking lawsuit."

According to the script, it is now the next morning. Jake had fallen asleep with me. He wakes up and he was to act as if he was finger-fucking me under the covers while he gets worked up talking dirty to me, calling me a whore and telling me how he is going to fuck me so hard I won't walk for a week.

I was so fucking nervous, I shivered with excitement. I mean, well, OK, it was excitement. I had never ever laid with another man. I have never even seen a black man naked and here I was in bed with one. I was to be on my back when Jake wakes me up by molesting me. I was to wake up slowly and at first respond until I became fully awake and realize what was going on. I was to wake up completely when he gets on top of me and it was then I was supposed to yell and try to get him off of me.

I heard the director yell out, "Quiet on the set, lights on." They came on, and he said, "Ready, ACTION."

I felt Jake's hand on my belly button and he was moving his wrist. He was talking dirty me: "How's that feel, whore? You like those fingers in you like this. You're nice and fucking tight. I bet you never had a real man's cock in you, have you, baby. You're going to get one now. Yeah, that's it, baby, that's it, nice and wet."

He was moving his wrist around but his fingers never left my belly button.

This went on for a few minutes then he moved to get on top of me. He moved between my legs and he said, reaching down between us but never intimately touching me, "Are you ready, bitch? You ready for a big fat cock crammed in that little hole of yours? Ready, baby, here it comes."

I felt him as he moved his hips. (He never touched me.) I opened my eyes as if in shock and I kicked at him. I did not realize it but he was right in such a position that my right foot caught him and I knocked him off the bed with the first kick. I was surprised, Jake was surprised, and the director yelled out, "CUT! CUT! Jesus Christ, lady, you don't kick him off the fucking bed! You are to fucking act like you are fighting him. Did he touch you down there? Goddamn it, Ron, I am not putting up with your fucking bullshit. I told you not to."

I cut him off, saying, "No, he didn't, he didn't. I just did not mean to kick him like that. He never touched me."

The director said, "He better not. If he does, you let me know, honey. Now let's get set back up."

I had pulled the sheet back over me after I kicked Jake out of bed and in the excitement I did not realize that my cover had come off and I was open, so to speak. When Jake got back under the covers I realized that the glove covering his cock had also come off. I knew what the glove felt like and it was not there. I could feel his thing touching my leg as he moved his fingers on my belly button. He was hard and he felt like a monster.

We did the scene again and this time, when he moved up between my legs I could feel him so close, every now and then just touching my hair with the end of his dick. In the past I have faked sex with Peter. But to fake it and not really do it, well, I just knew that would be hard to do. We worked at it for three more tries. And at the end of each take the director was madder and madder. He was mad at me for faking it too little, then too much, then for not fighting hard enough.

He walked over to Jake and said something in his ear. Jake said, "You sure?" but the director just walked away.

We started up again, but this time Jake put his hand and fingers right on and inside of me. When he did I was embarrassed because I was very wet. You see, that is a curse I have. When I get excited before sex with Peter I am so wet there have been times Peter thought I had urinated because the bed was so wet. A few times (more than I care to remember) we (I) had to wipe the bedsheet clean and a few times Peter would not eat me until I wiped myself.

I know my body and all of the day's activities had taken their toll: My body wanted sex. It was like my pussy had a mind of its own and it did not know that the man with me was not my husband.

I felt Jake rubbing my clit and this time when I moaned, it was not a fake moan. It felt good and I knew that if he kept it up he was going to make me climax.

He slid in one, then two fingers in and out of my hole. He was talking to me this time, and I could feel the warmth of his breath on me. I was so close I was ready to climax when he moved between my legs. I felt him reach down between us and I felt him guiding himself right into my wanting hole.

I freaked. I yelled, "Get off of me, get off of me! Please don't fuck me, please no, no. Oh, God, please, no, stop, STOP, STOP IT, NO, NO! TAKE IT OUT, NO STOP, OH GOD, OHHHH GOODDD, PLEASE, PLEASE, OH JESUS ... Please, oh my God, please don't stop, please don't stop."

Jake was fucking me hard and I was fucking him back. I came hard and he never stopped. I moved my hips, trying to get more of him inside of me as he fucked me. I felt his body stiffen and I could feel his cock pulsing inside of me. I knew that he had cum in me.

That was in the script. I mean, he was to supposed to fake that and I was supposed to cry and make a big deal out of him raping me and cumming in me. He pulled out and laid on his back, as I was to get in a fetal position and cry.

I was screaming, "You fucking bastard, you bastard! You came in me, you came in me! You bastard, you raped me, I didn't want that, I didn't want that!"

Now keep in mind that the last four times that we shot this part the director would yell cut and go crazy yelling at us because I had not come across that I had been raped. I closed my eyes pissed at myself for getting so worked up and losing it again like I did. I laid there for the longest time before I realized that there was dead silence on the set.

No one said anything, no one coughed, nothing, just dead silence. I heard the director begin to clap his hands; he walked over to my side of the bed and said, "Honey, that was fucking beautiful. Now that was acting if I ever saw it. You finally got it, honey, now I want to see that again. I told the grips to stop wasting film until you had it down. You got it now, so this time we're rolling."

I laid there feeling Jake's sperm running out of my hole, knowing it was going onto the bed. I knew that I could never do that again. I sat up, holding the sheet to my body, and I said, "Again? We have to do it again? I don't know if I can."

I was being honest. I wanted to get up and walk out of there. I wanted to go home to my husband. I felt dirty and it was because I had just been raped but I knew if I said anything, I would not work again. I was in a corner. What could I do? One thing I knew was that I did not want to do this again.

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