Bedlam

"Shut up," all three women hissed at her, the four falling silent again as Allen turned back to them.

"So yeah, like I was saying, you guys are lying down. Krush and Cill enter through the double doors at the back. They walk up to their mark which is dead centre of the four beds, see that spot guys?" The two black men nodded.

"Great, great. So, they stop there, then you ladies spot them, show me some sexy smiles. You get up off the beds... sexy, sexy, sexy. Walk to the guys and two of you paired to either Krush or Cill, and you drape yourselves against them, turn to camera and that'll be a cut. Clear?" Six heads bobbed.

"Fantastic. So, let's see. Ummm Sophia and Olya why don't you tie up with Cill and..."

"No, I'll tie up with Cill," Mercedes blurted out, immediately raising a hand to her mouth, shocked at herself for saying it out loud.

"Oh, okay, sure, cool. Love that enthusiasm. Right so Sophia and Mercedes, you are with Cill. Victoria and Olya, you'll be with Krush. Nice, good. Okay places everyone.

The two rappers walked the length of the ward, disappearing behind the double doors at the far end while the women took their places on the beds, each one fidgeting as they lay down. At first just straightening clothing out, then just using that as an excuse to run their hands across skin that seemed to be becoming feverish to the touch.

From behind Allen and his crew of cameramen, Jamal turned to Lance, winking at him. "Dat shits workin' just perfect."

Allen checked the John and Maggie, the two camera techs, were in position and more importantly the gawping figures of Jamal and Lance were out of shot. Satisfied that the set up was looking good he cleared his throat, then took one final glance to satisfy his need to double-double check everything.

"Aaaannnnd... Action!"

On cue, for the first time that long day, Krush and Cill banged through the double doors and entered the ward. Clad just in black socks and the hospital gowns, boxers invisible beneath them, the two rappers managed to imbue their rolling walk down the aisle with a ton of swagger and arrogance.

"That's it guys, perfect, just perfect," Allen called out in encouragement. "Maggie, pull back for wide shots on the four girls... good, good. John, stay close on the guys as they come up to their mark in 3... 2... 1. Perfect, love it."

It was going well, really well. Krush and Cill seemed focused if only to bring an end to the day quickly. They'd hit their marks to the inch and had then struck suitably contemptuous poses. Even the four women seemed to finally get it, all of them looking animated and enthused for the first time that day. Allen's direction had seemed to wash over them during the earlier filming, but now they looked like they were getting it, coming to life finally.

"Sophia, Mercedes... good, loving those expressions. Looking good. Now move towards Cill. Olya, Victoria... same for you... move towards Krush. Mercedes, loving the look, keep it up. All of you, you're doing amazing, intensity is spot on, keep it going." Allen glanced towards Maggie who concurred with a raised thumb, the smouldering looks the women were bestowing on the two rappers looked amazing as it was caught on camera.

"Heee, heee, heee," Jamal giggled in almost childlike glee, the high pitched laugh manic sounding and Allen shot him a filthy look lest he disturb the shot.

<0>

The camera's tracked left to centre, right to centre. One camera focused on Sophia and Mercedes as they approached Cill, the other following Olya and Victoria's progression to where Krush stood. The lens of both cameras were now aimed at where the two members of Punish-herz stood in all their vainglory, a beautiful dancer moving to either side of each of them, hands sweeping out as they moulded themselves to the two men's figures.

"Hold it for a minute," Allen instructed both cast and crew. "Ladies, tilt your heads slightly back, look up at these men's faces. Good, excellent."

Cill's face contorted briefly, so fast only the camera caught it. "Da fuck?" He flinched again, then returned to his pose.

"All okay guys?" Allen called out. "Just another minute, I want to get some still from him as well." Allen began shooting off an SLR as he spoke. Cill gave the briefest of nods in response.

"You doin' okay their bro?" Krush enquired as subtly as he could, trying to keep his pose intact.

"Man, these crazy bitches. They both got their hands under this fucking robe, fuckin' handlin' my junk on me" Cill hissed back.

"Yeah? Me 'n all. These two are playin' with my cock and nutsack. Not sure who put a dollar in the slut slot but I'ma likin' it. Jes' like that after partys for the Grammy's, remember? That was a sweet fuckin' night," Krush answered jovially.

Cill's eyelids began fluttering as he felt two hands continue to rummage within his boxers. The glare and heat from the lighting rig was full on him and he could barely see the figures of the crew before him. How they hadn't noticed what was happening before their eyes was inconceivable to the veteran rapper.

The women's arms, as they pushed their hands into his crotch, were steadily dragging the waist of his boxers down lower and lower. Soon gravity would take over and the black silk would fall about his ankles. If the octopus like arms of the two women beneath his gown and his growing erection hadn't tipped the director and camera crew off to what was occurring, the sight of his underwear falling to the floor was sure to.

"Bitch, what you playin' at?" Cill hissed to Mercedes, who of the two women seemed to have been the first to dive beneath his gown.

"Just saying hello to a legend of the music industry," she answered, before giving his fat cock a squeeze. His cock leapt up at her touch, blood sluicing inside it as it hardened further. "They say never meet your heroes," Mercedes whispered into his ear, then her tongue darted out to lick inside it oh so briefly. "But that's, that's bullshit!" she concluded.

"Boss, you seeing this?" Maggie enquired uncertainly to Allen.

"Ummm," he replied, staggered as he finally twigged to what was happening.

"Jesus, what are they playing at?" John continued filming, utterly professional but disbelief was etched on his face as he waited for Allen to say or do something.

Krush was loving it. He'd been as reluctant as Cill to get back recording, the stress and hassle of studio work had always been a pain in the ass to him, Cill had always been the one who'd loved that side of the business. For Krush it had always been about the energy of performing, the fans. Fucking the fans to be precise. It was that, that'd led to his two very costly divorces. But he wasn't married now and these two fine assed bitches were the perfect combination of hot and horny that he had enjoyed in his heyday.

His hands dropped down, two big paws clamping onto the pert asses of Olya and Victoria. Their skin tight short white skirts seemed to be riding up the tops of their thighs as if by magic and his fingertips brushed against the soft lace of their underwear as he fondled their butts.

"Seriously? This is really happening?" John's voice squeaked out as the crew grew even more tense.

"Ummmm," Allen mumbled, his hands dropping to his sides, SLR dropping to his chest, forgotten.

Cill groaned in pleasure, though he fought not to show it, as his boxers finally followed the scientific principle of 'what goes up must go down' falling with a soft hiss of silk on skin. The sudden feeling of a draught of cool air on his bare ass did nothing to take away from the heat of his crotch. Even as he tried to stifle another groan, he felt the two women slowly sliding down his body, all six feet two inches of it, as they sensuously descended to their knees at his feet.

"Boss?!?" Maggie's voice was insistent now, seeking some sort of guidance.

"Ummmm," Allen's mind was awhirl as he watched the four women going far beyond anything he'd directed them to do. "Keep shooting, keep filming," Allen suddenly blurted, raising his own camera and shooting off a clutch of stills.

Krush felt the hands sneaking up his bare legs as both women knelt before him, two pairs of hands now climbing up under his hospital gown. The younger one, Victoria he recalled her name as, tittered as the hands seized onto his underwear, dragging the boxers down and freeing his rampant cock. He spotted Jamal, his overweight security guard, grinning at him from behind the still filming candles and Krush couldn't help himself, answering back with a wide toothy smile of his own. It then occurred to him that the camera's were still pointed towards himself and Cill but the sensation of hands rubbing at his length and prodigious nutsack drove that point of concern to the back of his mind.

"Seriously, what are we doing here?" John sidled up beside Allen, his camera still pointed at the pair of rappers, each with two women at their feet, clearly using their hands to bring the veteran musicians to erection.

"Maybe we are getting a chance to actually make some decent money," Allen replied in a low voice. Even pitched low however, it apparently carried to Maggie who immediately joined the men in their conversation.

"Blackmail, sell it to some news agency or just market it as a sex tape?" Maggie was in her late thirties, she'd been in the business since she was nineteen and aside from being technically outstanding as a camera operator, Allen had always hired her for her ability to read between the lines, to work with a minimum of direction.

"Or all three..." Allen let the thought hang out there before adding, "For now lets just work on the recording. John, swing a bit wide and close up a little, Maggie the same, we need to get a few angles on this."

John didn't look happy but he complied, Maggie looked grim faced but that was just her normal professional expression.

<0>

Kneeling before Cill, Mercedes snorted in air through her nose as her heart continued to leap within her chest. She'd been on a large number of shoots before and she'd never felt the kind of heat that she was suffering through right now. She genuinely felt like she was going to melt or faint, the heat seeming to be as much within her as without. It was something she just couldn't explain, it wasn't the lights, or the building, but she was flushed and breathing heavily all the same.

Another thing she couldn't explain was her sudden overwhelming lust for Cill. Well for a man in general, Cill in particular. Mercedes didn't feel guilty exactly, she didn't have a husband or partner at this time, but she did feel ill at ease throwing all decorum to the wind, acting like a complete slut in this way. She had dreams and fantasies, who didn't? Hers were mostly about starting her own business, achieving personal success. Getting her hands on a member of Punish-herz, claiming their black cock as her own, that had never been a dream, not even when she'd followed the duo in their heyday. So why now? The hospital gown fell to the floor and her concerns fell alongside it.

Sophia stood behind Cill, stretching her petite frame up on her tippy toes as she reached up for the butterfly knot that held the hospital gown together. She knew the others thought she was stupid. She knew they laughed at her far more often than they laughed with her. But that didn't bother her. Not now. While Miss 'Oh-so-smart' Mercedes was going at Cill from under the gown, Sophia had moved a step ahead, looking to get rid of the yucky green coloured hospital gown altogether. Not bad for the stupid one in the group! First his clothes and then her own because she was tormented by the clinging outfit that seemed to constrict and wring sweat from her body. The trauma of the too tight clothing was secondary however to her burning fascination to see Cill's cock out in the open. She'd never seen a black guy's cock before and never ever seen a famous one. Cill's was both and Sophia was eager to feel it in her small white hand. But why?

Her fingers found purchase on the gown's ties and the surgical green garment slide off of Cill. Sophia's train of thought derailed and she scampered around him to get a look at his hard black cock.

"One down," Maggie said quietly, her position putting her closest to where Cill stood.

"One to go," Allen finished the thought, looking over towards Krush.

Olya and Victoria had adopted a more direct approach than the other two dancers. They simply tore the hospital gown from Krush's body. John, his camera focused on the action, might have been forgiven for thinking he was actually filming a wildlife documentary instead of a music video that had derailed into an amateur porn flick. The two women were more akin to coyotes or some other hunger driven pack animal, using fingernails and teeth to reduce the polyester garment into a distressed and unrecognisable pile of green debris.

"Christ!" John said in a low awe filled voice as he watched the two women wrap themselves against Krush's almost naked body, their mouths pressed to his chest and stomach to deliver fervent kisses as their hands began to tear away at the small shards of cloth that still clung to him.

Neither Olya or Victoria could quite believe their own actions. They were both married, Olya having two young children while Victoria had to date postponed starting a family. If either were to be one hundred percent candid, they probably weren't as happy in their respective relationships as they could be. Like many marriages, time had added a staleness, a complacency, to both the emotional and physical aspects of their interactions with their husbands. Added to this, the wages from professional dancing weren't eye watering and this situation had resulted in strife when the topic of money was ever raised.

Even so, that couldn't justify their over-the-top response to Krush. They'd been seeing him all day with zero attraction. Well, that wasn't entirely true. He was a good-looking guy after all even if he was a bit older than both of them. Still, this small nod in recognition to his attractiveness wasn't the same as both of them behaving as if they were powerless in their enthrallment to him. To his big black cock.

As the gown was torn asunder, the doubts and confusion were torn to shreds as well, Olya and Victoria sinking to the floor, mouths already agape as they sought to take his cock, his big scrotum, between their lips.

Allen, John and Maggie watched in stunned silence as the four dancers began so lick, suck, slurp and suckle on Cill and Krush's cocks. Aside from the wet sounds emanating from the enthusiastic blowjobs, you could have heard a pin drop in the old hospital ward. Finally, Allen managed to tear his gaze away from the vision that was Cill's foot long member splitting Mercedes's mouth wide open. His professionalism, if not his ethic's, kicked back in and he tapped John and Maggie on their shoulders to get their attention. He then mimed out his instructions, sending them both out to circle the action, John moving clockwise, Maggie counter-clockwise, their camera lenses' seeking new angles for the unfolding action.

"Let's..." Allen's voice came out cracked with emotion and he cleared his throat before trying again. "Let's see some flesh girls, let's get those uniforms off." He couldn't believe he was giving direction in what was becoming, had become, a porno. Allen was even more surprised when the four dancers obeyed him.

As the camera's circled like satellites orbiting the earth, Mercedes surrendered her claim to Cill's cock and quickly began to pull the tight top and skirt that comprised the nurses 'outfit' off of herself. She was soon down to just the black bra, panties and stockings that each dancer wore beneath the slutty nurse's uniform. The skimpy underwear showed off her gym chiselled physique. Small breasts on an athletic frame that had been shorn of any unnecessary fat through hours of punishing exercise. Free, she launched herself back into the fray, relieving Sophia. The young blonde seemed to simply shrug her clothes off of her body, so quickly did the shirt and skirt fall to the floor. Her large chest swaying as she whirled back into place, blonde hair sweeping through the air to fall across her back as she dropped to her knees once again, petite and blonde in contrast to the taller dark-haired Mercedes beside her.

Krush was let momentarily unattended as Olya and Victoria disrobed quickly. The two women, Olya slender and tanned, Victoria slender and pale, had him rubbing the heels of his hands into his eye sockets as he couldn't believe their sheer sexiness. Lithe, supple, their dancers' bodies swayed as they went through the motions. Hands waving before firm pert breasts as they undid the small buttons on their tops. Hips cocking left, then right, thumbs hooking into the hems of the too tight skirts, pushing them down over shapely legs. The black rapper released a pent-up groan of desire as the two women, stunning in their sheer black underwear, once more returned to their oral worship of his large thick cock.

And still the two camera operators swirled around the oblivious figures, crystal clear lenses soaking up all of the hot action. Allen, like a conductor of a world class orchestra, standing clear and watching, feeling his presence, his directorial influence, was largely symbolic, the performers moving so adroitly under their own instincts. Behind Allen, Jamal nudged the younger Lance with a beefy elbow.

"Any second now," he said mysteriously.

Chapter Three:

Olya and Victoria could move in seamless unison on a dance floor, could perform the most complex of routines without fail. Sophia and Mercedes, less skilled that the other two but with an energy and vitality that was unmatched, were also normally all balance and poise when it came to the execution of a performance.

Now however, each dancer was driven by a sense of self, not teamwork. Cill's cock would barely be in Mercedes's possession when Sophia would attempt to supplant her, almost pushing the taller woman to one side. It was the same between Olya and Victoria as they wordlessly squabbled for Krush's big cock. Elbows snapped out, shoulders dropped and rose as the women pushed and shoved for prominence.

"Fucks...," said Cill.

"...sakes" said Krush.

"Slow it down girls, no rush," Allen called out, noting that the mood was turning sour, helpless to arrest the downslide. Then he heard a grunt as Jamal heaved himself off the table he'd been propped up against. The big beefy personal security guard waddled past Allen, the younger, fitter Lance pulled along in his wake.

"Doncha worry boss," Jamal called out towards Krewe, "I gots this." The big man pushed a staggering Lance towards where Cill stood, while he himself made a beeline to where his employer stood. As Jamal came closer, he unzipped the fly of his pants, pulling a thick flabby cock out so that is hung down like a dark baby elephant's trunk. With the minimal grunt of effort, he took hold of Olya by her long dark hair, pulling her out of her position before Krush. Olya's dark Mediterranean hued features were flushed with effort and frustration. However, when her angry brown eyes fell on the large black cock hanging from Jamal's pants, those same eyes clouded over with desire and she made a small mewling sound, a hungry cat espying a saucer of milk. A heartbeat later and Jamal's cock was firmly ensconced in her mouth. Jamal gave a lazy grin of satisfaction, receiving a thumbs up from Krush who was benefitting from Victoria's uninterrupted attention now. Jamal stroked a fat, beringed hand over Olya's head, smoothing her hair back in a calming, encouraging fashion.

"Not so full of yourself now are ya?" Olya's mouth was too busy to reply.