Halloween Favor

"Try 'em inside the cap. Is it big enough?"

"Should be. Does he need to be careful taking it off?" Tom tucked Sam's ears under the elastic at the base of the cap.

"Yeah, Sam, you shouldn't rip that off, you might lose a piece of your ear." Brenda thought for a moment. "Yep, there's no easy fix. If she likes them inside and wants to see the cap come off on video, they're gonna have to cut and fix it in post."

Tom: "You want a Polaroid both ways?"

Brenda: "Yeah, you got film?"

Tom disappeared, and came back almost immediately with the old camera. He took a shot of the cap each way, and strode off to show the results to Anne. He was gone only a few minutes.

"She's cool with ears out, and HP's ready to start lighting him."

"Off you go, handsome." said Brenda to Sam. Tom, take him back, would you? I gotta touch up his girlfriend."

"She's not actually my..." Sam started to say, but Brenda had already disappeared into the second dressing room.

"Walk this way, Wolfie." said Tom, and leading him into the main part of the cottage. "Just step behind this screen for a minute and drop 'em." Then, off Sam's blank look: "The pants, Shortstuff! Miss Thing and her elderly pinking shears need a word in private with those jeans!"

8.

Sam had just climbed back into what was left of the jeans when he heard footsteps and Karen's voice chatting to somebody as she walked past the screen behind which he had just dressed. He had a crazy impulse to sneak up behind her and scare the bejezzus out of her. He felt amped, and a little scared, like when his buddies pressured him into going onto the big coaster at Six Flags back in high school. Before he could think better of it, Sam peaked out from behind the end of the screen closest to the dressing room doors. He saw Karen from the back, a step or two behind Brenda, the two women obviously heading off towards the set. All he could see of Karen was a loose fitting pointed red hood and cape falling down to mid thigh. Below the edge of the cape, a red skirt with white lace trim ended just above the knee. Her smooth legs were bare and she wore white socks with some kind of ruffle at the ankle under black mary-janes. From the back, she looked like sex-out-for-a-stroll. He wasn't sure he could bear imagining what she looked like from the front.

Sam could feel himself getting hard, and the hormone or pheromone charge—or whatever the hell it was—combined with his nervousness propelled his body into action with out much in the way of conscious thought. He slipped out from behind the screen as quietly as he could, padded quickly up to just behind Karen's left side, grabbed her by the shoulder, spun her around to face him, and growled in his throat. Karen's blue eyes went wide for a second; she let out a short scream, recovered, and punched him hard on the left side of his chest.

"Holy shit, Sam! You scared the..." her voice trailed off as she took him in, from his torn and dirty jeans to his chest exposed beneath the flannel vest, his bare arms, up to his made up face with it's brutal lowering brow, blood-rimmed eyes and fanged mouth. She gulped, and her breathing quickened. "You look...I don't know, amazing...really, really scary..."

Sam had taken a second to recover from Karen's blow. She had a powerful right, and even though she had only connected with the base of her fist. He opened his mouth to say who the hell knew what, and found he had completely forgotten how to speak.

Taking Karen in from top to bottom, he saw that her hair, underneath the red hood, was down, falling in long golden waves down the sides of her face. The skin of her face looked smooth, warm and soft. What little make up she wore emphasized her natural gifts. The lashes around her large eyes looked thick and lush, although he could detect no mascara. Her lips were painted a bright coral red the exact shade of her hood, dress, and nails. They too looked soft, and moist, as if she had just run her tongue over them.

Sam's eyes moved down to the base of Karen's throat, encircled by a black velvet ribbon with a red heart-shaped clasp. For a top she had on a white peasant blouse with a scooped neckline and puffy short sleeves. (Sam found himself wondering, for a surreal moment, if anybody made a white peasant blouse that didn't have puffy, short sleeves.) Over it was something that looked like a black fabric corset. Whatever it was had narrow straps which rested on Karen's shoulders, and ran down to the main part of the thing which rested below her breasts. The bodice of the garment had embroidered grape vines winding up the front, and Sam could see neither hooks nor laces. He assumed it fastened in the back. It was a beautiful thing in itself, but it faded to near-invisibility compared to the body it displayed.

That Karen had a sexy body came as no surprise to Sam. He'd seen most of it; hell, that was the reason he rented those ridiculous Actionator dvds over and over again. But the combination of her body and the costume triggered a battalion of erotic impulses in Sam which he couldn't even begin to process. The corset or bodice or whatever it was pushed Karen's full breasts up and together, so that two pale half-moons, divided by a deep and inviting cleavage, floated above the ruffled neckline of her blouse. Even her arms were gorgeous—had Sam ever found fuckin' arms erotic before? They fell from the puffy sleeves in long gracefully muscled curves. On her hands, she wore fingerless red lace gloves with ruffled wrists. The short red skirt fell from her trim waist to the middle of bare, shapely thighs, and Sam now saw that what he had taken as lace trim was actually some kind of crinoline, which flared the skirt away from the immediate contours of Karen's hips and behind. Sam's initial disappointment at this affront to Karen's curves turned quickly to admiration as the ruins of his rational mind reminded him that he himself would be responsible for exposing those hips and that glorious ass to the camera right before he... His brain simply froze at that point, and he was just barely conscious of admiring her rounded calves, trim ankles, and sexy shiny shoes. His eyes snapped back to her face, found her wide blue eyes on his, and he took a long moment to find breath before he managed, quietly: "Jezhush, Karen, you're the mosht beautiful woman I've ever sheen in my life."

Her eyes widened just a bit. Her cheeks flushed and her breathing quickened, which caused the tops of her boobs to rise and fall in the corset's embrace. "Thanks, Sam." she whispered. The compliment seemed to please and move her; she hadn't even laughed at his slushy esses. Then she smiled. "Now come on, Mr. Big Bad Wolf, we're on a schedule here." She pouted, and put a naughty girl's breathy tremor into her voice: "Don't you want to tear my clothes off and maul my pretty tits, and force my thighs apart, and have your wicked way with me as my anguished screams echo unheeded in the pitiless blackness of the night?"

Up to this point in his life, Sam hadn't realized that it was possible to maintain an erection while howling with laughter. "Karen, what the hell...where did all that come from?"

"Not sure," Karen replied, her giggles interspersed with decidedly un-lady-like snorts. "It was on a piece of paper in my dressing area. I think it might be teaser copy for the site. I think I got it word for word; impressed?"

"Hell, yes!" replied Sam, still laughing.

"Fuckin' hell! Earth to the two of youse!" Brenda was exasperated, "Can we get you guys to the fuckin' set here. Time is fuckin' money!"

Karen controlled her giggles with an effort, and turned to head back to the set. "Sorry, sorry, yeah. Let's go." She headed off after Brenda towards the corner of the cottage dressed as Grandma's cabin. Sam fell in behind her, touched her shoulder gently, and whispered in her ear: "Did she just shay 'the two of youshe?'"

Karen was trying very hard not start laughing again. "Sam, would you do me a favor and shut the fuck up?"

9.

When they arrived at the set, the cameraman—the skinny guy whom Brenda and Tom had called Harry Potter, but who turned out to be named Ezekiel ("Call me Zeke.")—ordered Sam into his granny robe and cap, and had him lie down on the bed. He put a taped mark on the floor for Karen near the head of the bed, the place where Little Red would stand to talk to the disguised wolf. He then headed off to adjust his various stand lights, and Sam was just about to ask what happened next, when a slightly breathless Anne appeared with a sheaf of paper, and came up to stand behind the head of the bed.

"Alright, we are something like four hours behind schedule, but we are—finally—just about ready to start. You both look marvelous by the way. OK, you've neither of you done this kind of thing before right?"

Sam shook his head. Karen considered. "I've done some sort of cheese-cake publicity shots, but...not really; no serious modeling, and certainly nothing like this."

Anne took a deep breath. "Right, some things you need to know: we shoot the still shots off of this." holding up some papers. "It's a scenario in the form of a loose shot list. For example: 'Villain behind maiden; right hand mauls left breast.' Obviously, if I see something I want that's not on the list, or if either of you has an idea for something which you think would make a hot still, you're welcome to make the suggestion. That said, I am the director, and the final decision on all content is mine and mine alone. With me so far?" Both Sam and Karen nodded.

"Good. Now we're still relatively new to video content, and thus far we've stuck with scenarios rather than writing out scripted dialogue. I try to keep video content sexy but simple: perhaps one big move which allows for a position change or for a piece of clothing to come off, followed by some writhing and begging from our maiden, and some panting and grunting from our villain. Still good?" More nods.

"I'm glad. Now: safe words. These are vital. There are two, and either performer may use them at any time. Most often they are 'Yellow' which means stop all movement but stay in position—somebody's tangled up in a sheet, or somebody landed the wrong way on an arm or a leg, minor accidents, like that—and 'Red' which means all movement stops, and the performers disengage and take three large steps away from one another. We've only had a couple of Red calls in the history of the site. The most recent was a few weeks ago. A villain, who was not involved with the maiden with whom he was working, forgot about our 'no penetration' rule and tried to put a finger into his partner's ass. She called Red, but in stead of stepping away from the guy, she went for him. A couple of the grips had to separate them, and some equipment got broken. By the way, in a minute I'm going to have you both sign a contract and a basic waiver. Between the two pretty much everything is spelled out, but I'm going to say it out loud one more time:" she looked at both of them steadily. "No penetration of any kind, until you hear me say 'That's a wrap.' Got it?"

Um, we're not..." Sam began.

"Got it." said Karen.

Anne smiled, Karen muttered something under her breath, and Sam was left to wonder—as he often did in his dealings with the opposite sex—if he'd missed something.

Anne continued: "So back to the safe words. We're going to have to alter them a bit for this shoot, since the name of Karen's character actually contains the word 'red.'" Then, off Sam's bemused expression: "I know it might seem a little finicky to you, Sam, but I find that I get the most convincing performances from my people when they're allowed to remain in character while we shoot. This doesn't mean you can't relax between set-ups, but during still photography in particular, I'll be using you character names to direct you. So you'll probably be 'wolf', and Karen will be..."

"'Red,' got it." said Sam, completing the thought.

"Right," continued Anne. "So, and this does sound silly, but I've decided to go with 'apple' and 'banana' for 'red' and 'yellow.' You're neither of you likely to be listing fruit in the heat of passion, and hopefully the color association will make the words easy both to observe and to remember, understood?" Nods again; Anne looked at Sam: "Karen tells me that, as far as she knows, you've never been a performer of any kind, is that right?"

"Um, not really," Sam considered the question, "I mean I wash in a mushical in high shchool, and people watched ush play football, obvioushly, but no, I guessh I haven't. Not in the way you mean."

"You might find it uncomfortable at first. Do your best, and try to relax. Anything complicated, we'll rehearse before we shoot. Don't fret too much about the acting part of the process. For our purposes, all the Big Bad Wolf wants to do is grope, fuck, and eat Little Red Riding Hood. Karen's costume and—forgive me, Sam—your obvious crush on her should help you communicate the first two items on that list. And maybe the third; who knows? But either way, Nils is on hand to help with the special effects. Last, but not least, watch Karen. She's a pro, ok?" Again, both nodded. "Then sign these," handing clipboards with attached pens to both of her performers—Sam took a minute to negotiate writing with his claws—"and let's get going."

10.

"And...action!"

Sam followed with his eyes as Karen stepped to her mark beside the head of his bed. Her blue eyes were wide, and a demure smile curved her red lips. Her voice, when she spoke, was high and girlish. Sam hoped he could prevent himself from drooling, and then wondered if perhaps drooling would be in character.

"Hello, Grandma dear, it is I, Little Red Riding Hood. And I've brought you this basket of treats. There are cakes, and bread, and some elderflower wine. Oh, but Grandma!" And here Little Red Karen put her hands on her knees and bent to look into her dear Granny's eyes. The movement put her in a pin-up pose, her upper arms forcing her breasts together, deepening her cleavage. "I'm afraid you don't look at all well." she continued. "You must be feverish. Why, Grandma, what big eyes you have!"

Sam was so engrossed in watching her lips move that he almost missed his cue, as he had during the first three takes. But he caught himself in time, and trilled, in a cracked falsetto: "All the better to see you with my dear." He had finally conquered the esses!

"And Grandma," continued the innocent Little Red, "what big ears you have!"

"All the better to hear you with, my dear." Granny replied, and the exaggerated motion of Sam's mouth, used—unnecessarily in this case—to control the esses, gave Zeke's camera a lovely shot of the wicked-looking doubled fangs. Little Red drew back with a gasp.

"Oh, Grandma," she breathed, and her voice came out a frightened whisper, "what big teeth you have!"

Sam allowed his voice to drop back into his natural register. He grinned, exposing the Wolf's fangs, and said slowly and softly: "All the better to eat you with, my dear!"

Little Red Karen's hands went to her open mouth. She began backing up slowly, shaking her head 'no', as the Wolf rose from the bed. He tore the cap from his head, reached across his body, and with a snarl, tore the nightgown across. Tom's Velcro worked perfectly, and the garment pooled at Sam's feet.

Little Red screamed in terror, whirled and ran for the door.

"And...CUT!" yelled Anne. "Excellent work, the both of you. Zeke, was that all right for you?"

"Fine." called the taciturn camera man. He had already saved the take, and was busily disengaging the little digital from its tripod.

11.

A quick insert of the Wolf grabbing Little Red from behind and forcing her into his body with one arm around her waist and the other at her throat, and they had switched to a series of still shots. As he held Karen's body up against his, the tight curve of her ass pressed against his groin, the smell of her hair—shampoo and a little sweat—tickling his nostrils, and the feeling of her soft flesh against his palm, Sam became aware of his rising cock, caught in his jockeys, pushing up against his captive's butt. Karen had apparently noticed it too.

"Well hello down there," she whispered with a smile in her voice, as Zeke fiddled with the lights, and Anne consulted her scenario. "Sam, do you need to readjust?"

Sam was mortified. "Ah shit, Karen, I'm shorry about..." in his agitation, Sam had forgotten the damn esses again. Karen cut him off.

"Don't be stupid, and don't be sorry. That's going to happen, and it's supposed to happen, remember? I'm the one who should be apologizing." She sighed. "Ah hell, Sam, today is going to be one long tease for you, isn't it?"

She really sounded concerned, and Sam was touched. It did nothing to lessen his discomfort; in fact, in a way, it made it worse. That he would become aroused at the sight of Karen's exquisite body was inevitable, expected, and—as Tom would say—the point of the exercise, but that she was aware of, and concerned for, his discomfort troubled him in a different way. Abruptly Sam considered two of the most attractive aspects of the woman he knew as Karen James. She was a sweet, whimsical, straightforward, humorous woman. She was also possessed of a fit, curvaceous body, a provocative and beautiful face, and the confidence and sexuality of a movie star sex goddess. And he realized abruptly that as much as he lusted for the goddess, he might actually...love...the woman, even more than he had thought. Out of the confusion of that realization, he tried to answer her question. "Karen, sheriously, fuck, seriously, don't worry about it."

"No, I'm not, it's just...I don't know." She sighed. "Tell you a secret?"

"What?"

"This is turning me on too; a lot. Actually, acting always did. At least acting sexy, but this is...kind of different. Now, no bullshit: do you need to adjust yourself?"

"Yeah, it's down a little now, but maybe I better."

"Anne," Karen called, "can we move apart for a second?" Anne nodded distractedly, and Karen whispered to Sam: "Go do what you need to do." She giggled. "And watch your claws."

Sam shook his head, trying not to laugh himself. "I swear to God, I'm going to enjoy killing you."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just don't forget to rape me first."

Sam could find nothing to say to that and walked away shaking his head to align his now re-stiffened cock with the center line of his body.

12.

"Sam, can we get you back in place?" Sam came hurrying up at the sound of Anne's voice. He stepped behind Karen. "You ready?"

"Sure," she replied. "All taken care of?"

"For now." He put his left arm around her waist and drew her into him. She let out something between a groan and a purr when she felt through her skirt his hard cock settle between the cheeks of her ass. The sound caused Sam's breath to catch in his throat, and his dick to become still harder.

Anne walked over to them. "OK, first major still sequence: the maiden mauled through her clothes. BBW, can you please cup Red's right breast with your right hand." As his hand moved to Karen's tit, Sam thought to himself how strange it was to have countless masturbatory fantasies play out like this. Then, as he gripped her gently and felt her nipple harden through the fabric under his palm, context no longer mattered. Karen's breast was heavy and firm, soft and liquid. How could he ever have thought these perfect boobs were fake? Karen hummed softly: "Mmmm, that feels nice."

Sam: "Not too hard?"

Karen: "Don't worry too much about it. I'll say 'banana' if there's a problem, but when I'm turned on, I like it a little rough."

Anne: "Little Red, we need a range of expressions. Can you give us fear, maybe a little anger? Do some pleading. BBW, you just keep hold of her, and maybe try nuzzling her throat a little, like her scent is exciting you. Don't lick her, because then I think we'll wonder why you're not biting, ok?"