Halloween Favor

Sam had by this time completely given over to his almost constant arousal. He couldn't control or organize his thoughts, so he stopped thinking. When Anne called 'action,' and Zeke started clicking away, the Wolf grabbed his lovely victim's throat. She froze, a look of terror on her face, as his clawed hand made his way slowly down her body to grasp and squeeze her tit. He felt her nipple hard in his hand, and he imagined he could smell the blood rushing through her veins. He growled in his throat and buried his face in her neck, panting and sniffing.

The terrified maiden screamed and writhed, grinding her tight butt against his painfully hard, wolfish prick. "No, please!" she begged, "Let me go. Don't hurt me! Ooh!" as his hand found her breast, "Not there, please don't! Please, you're hurting me! Aahh!" a little scream as he squeezed. "No! Monster! Animal! Let me...ow, no don't...Beast LET GO OF ME!!" She bucked and squirmed, fighting hard. The Wolf's claws left her breast and found her throat again. As before, she became absolutely still. "No!" It came out on a squeak. "No, please? I'll be good. I won't fight, only please...please don't, don't...eat...me, please?"

"And cut!" sighed Anne, who hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath. "Wow, do you think you could do that again. We've got the stills, but I think that might be even hotter on video."

13.

Anne altered the scenario slightly after what she referred to as the 'Don't Eat Me' sequence. Originally she had imagined the Wolf spinning Little Red around to face him, and then wrestling his struggling victim into a fireman's carry and throwing her onto the bed. Then cut, rigger in, Red tied to the bed, and resume. But Little Red's promise to be good, and her plea not to be eaten had given the director another idea. She consulted with Tom, and then called her performers over to explain the modified sequence. Karen and Tom disappeared for fifteen minutes during which Anne experimented with what growls, roars, and howls Sam could consistently produce. When Tom and Karen returned, the costumer explained what he had done to Sam. Sam took a deep breath and nodded his understanding. The Wolf and Little Red took their marks with the villain's arm around the maiden's waist, and his clawed hand at her throat.

Anne called: "Action!"

Eyes wide with terror, breasts heaving as she fought for control. Little Red squeaked: "No, please? I'll be good girl. I won't fight; please...oh, please don't...don't...eat...me, please?" The Wolf's right hand moved slowly from his victim's throat. At the same time his left hand left Little Red's waist. She watched in horror as the two sets of talons made their way to her breasts. His large hands closed around her tits and he squeezed hard. A little scream escaped her lungs. Her nipples hardened beneath the kneading palms. The Wolf's breath grew quicker and shallower. His tongue slithered out from between his fangs. He drew it slowly up from the base of her throat to the lobe of her ear, and a low menacing growl came from deep in his throat. The terrified maiden closed her eyes and whimpered. Then, her tormentor's hands left her bosom to meet at the center of her blouse. With a savage grunt, the Wolf tore the flimsy cotton in two (down the newly added and concealed Velcro seam.) Little Red screamed as she felt the material give and her naked breasts fall into his waiting claws. As the Wolf's talons dug into her firm full tits, his beautiful victim screamed again, and fainted backwards into her attacker's embrace.

"Cut!" yelled the director. Little Red's eyes popped open. She stood up, and on Anne's command: "Go ahead and lift her." she put one arm around the Wolf's shoulders. His opposite hand gripped her beneath her knees, and he lifted his now "unconscious" victim into a pose immortalized by a thousand monster movies. She fell back and closed her eyes so that he supported her with one arm below her knees, and the other just under he shoulders. Her eyes closed, her lips parted, and her naked breasts exposed the maiden lay in the arms of the monster. As the camera clicked away still after still, he looked down at his prey, ran his dry tongue over his lips, as if anticipating the salty taste of the soft flesh at her pale throat. Then the Wolf raised his head, howled his bloodlust to the tiny cabin and the dark woods outside, and cradling his helpless victim in powerful arms, moved towards the bed.

14.

"Cut it!" Anne called. "BBW, you can relax for a minute. Red, lie back on the bed. Can somebody track down Manny? He's probably outside smoking."

Sam barely registered the door opening as somebody went to look for Manny, whoever the fuck he was. Karen lay back on the bed, her long legs extended, her red skirt riding up her thighs. Her honey-blonde hair was half -in and half-out of her little red hood, and of course the torn blouse hung from her shoulders, framing those perfect boobs. Now that he had a moment to appreciate them, he noticed how high they sat on her chest. As she lay back, Karen's titflesh relaxed into two soft, circular peaks. Her skin was as pale as cream, and her nipples were hard and proud; hot pink peaks inside tiny areolas. Karen noticed him starring. She enjoyed his appreciation for a prolonged moment before calling him on it.

"You look hungry, Mr. Wolf," she said in her pouty little girl voice. "Can I ask you something? When you devour a sweet, innocent little girl like me, do you like to start..." she brought her hands down to cup her boobs, offering them to him, "with the white meat," her hands travelled down past her belly, and she pushed her thighs apart under her skirt, "or the dark meat?" She gave him a seductive smile. "I'll tell you a secret, Mr. Bad Wolf," and she crooked her little finger at him. "Come closer." Sam brought the side of his head close to her lips. The tip of her tongue darted out and brushed his ear below the latex. "My dark meat is a whole lot juicier. At least for right now..."

Sam turned his head to her ear, taking his turn to whisper: "Karen,"—he had trouble catching his breath, and the words came out on a pant—"you beautiful bitch, are you trying to kill me. Do you want me begging for mercy in front of all these fuckin' people?"

She grabbed his head hard and turned his ear back to her lips. For a long moment, Sam was afraid the 'bitch' crack had pissed her off. Then it was her turn to pant: "Sam, begging you for mercy for the last hour and a half has me so fucking hot I don't know whether to laugh or cry. I can't even say what I want right now, because I'm holding onto myself by a fucking thread. I am not kidding you. And I don't want...I just...ah shit!"

Karen had pulled away from him, and now Sam straightened up and saw that Anne was back, in the company of a non-descript young man with straight brown hair down to his shoulders, and a length of what looked like fine, soft quarter-inch rope in his hands. "Sam, Karen," Anne made the introductions, "this is Manny. Manny's our rigger. He's here to make sure that you're comfortable when tied and confronting the proverbial fate worse than death, alright?" She turned to the cameraman. "Zeke, before we get her rigged, can we get a couple of still shots of our Wolf starting to bind her?"

The scenario called for Little Red to be bound by her wrists only. The bed on which the maiden would meet her fate had a wrought iron headboard with vertical bars at intervals across its length. Zeke took two sets of stills: in the first, the Wolf prepared to bind an unconscious Little Red—sleep fetishists really go for this kind of thing, according to Anne—while in the second set, the maiden was awake and struggling, albeit in vain, against the cruel grip of her assailant.

Then Manny stepped forward. Taking the rope from Sam with a muttered "Thanks, dude." he quickly and expertly bound Karen's wrists to a couple of the vertical bars. Her arms were spread, but her elbows had room to bend a bit. Also the knots allowed for her wrists to travel up and down the bars to which they had been attached. This gave Karen a certain amount of vertical movement in her torso. She wouldn't have to lie flat on the bed for the remainder of the shoot. And as soon as Manny had finished—Sam wondered if he were gay; he'd barely seemed to register Karen's magnificent chest—Zeke placed a pillow behind Karen's upper back and shoulder blades. Little Red could now witness the outrages perpetrated upon her body without jamming her chin into her chest and hiding her lovely face behind her boobs.

Sam had watched the rigger bind Karen, and he found himself wondering if the rope were too tight, if she were somehow uncomfortable. Her cheeks and breasts were pink, and her breathing labored. Her eyes were closed, and her lips slightly parted. Might Karen be a little claustrophobic? She'd never mentioned it before. Manny finished his work, and moved over to Anne to get her reaction to the rigging. As Sam watched, Karen opened her eyes, and said, quite loudly and distinctly, "Banana."

Everything stopped. Manny's gaze snapped to his bindings. Zeke froze at a light stand. Tom and Brenda stopped whatever they were doing, and Anne gave all her attention to the half-naked young woman on the bed in front of her. After a moment Anne asked: "Karen, what's on your mind?"

"Everything is cool, everybody." Karen said, to defuse the tension which had gripped everybody in the room with the mention of the safe word. "Everything is great, and I'm having a truly wonderful time. Manny, the ropes are fine. Anne, can I have, like, five minutes in private with Sam? Nothing's wrong," she repeated seeing the looks of concern on both Anne's and Sam's faces. "I just need a couple of minutes, ok? I promise I won't be long. I know how behind everything is."

"That's fine, Karen, but don't..." Anne looked to Sam, then back to Karen, "...start something you can't finish."

"I know, Anne. It's fine. I'm fine. Really." said Karen. She tried to lean forward, forgetting for a moment that she was securely tied to the bedstead. "Shit. Sorry. Seriously, five minutes."

Anne let out a breath. "Everybody take ten. Outside."

15.

Zeke was the last to leave, after warning both performers not to touch the lights or the camera. The door swung shut, and Sam and Karen were alone in the converted guest house. They stared at each other for what seemed to Sam a long time. Even with her breasts exposed, Sam found himself mesmerized by Karen's face. Her eyes were wide, and her lips parted. She was almost too beautiful; Sam could find nothing to say. The silence continued, and he had to look away, towards the door through which the crew had gone, before he found his voice. When he finally did, he made a reasonable attempt to keep it light: "Alright, Yacobowski, you banana-ed. What's up?"

"Sam, look at me, would you?" Karen's voice was low, even a little husky. Sam turned back to look at her, tied to the bed, half in and half out of that impossibly sexy costume. "Mr. Wolf," continued Karen, and there was no tease in her voice now, "I'm not sure what to do. I am so fucking turned on right now, by this whole experience, by this costume, this character, by you, that I'm afraid I'm going to have a heart attack. Or cum. Or explode, or some fucking thing." As he watched, Sam could see her control slipping, could feel the effort she was making to keep herself coherent. "It's abso-fucking-lutely nuts! Here I am tied to a bed dressed like a pornographic pin-up for a Brothers Grimm fetishist. I'm waiting for my best friend, who's got up like a werewolf, to pretend to rape and eat me, and every thought, every feeling, every everything is sex and lust and want...Sam I want...I want so badly, and I think...I want you, but I can't have you, I mean, not now...and I know you want me, at least I think you do....I mean you always did, didn't you, and...I didn't think this was going to...fuck!"

Sam's brain and body couldn't process information fast enough. 'Best friend? Wants me? Karen wants...' Out loud he said: "Whoa, whoa, Karen, hold it! Take it easy for a second...ok? Just breathe." He watched her take great gulps of air. After a moment she seemed to calm down a bit. "Let's cut to the chashe...fuck, chase, for a second, ok? Do you want to stop this?"

"Oh God, NO!" Karen almost screamed. "Sam, I'm just so fucking hot, it's like the world's longest tease. I just wanted you to know. I know exactly what you're feeling, because I'm feeling it too, and I love it, and I'm sorry. Baby, I am so sorry if you are...I don't know. Do you hate this, because I don't..."

"No, no, no!" It was Sam's turn to interrupt. "I'm...shit, no, I think I'm as turned on as you are. You are so fucking beautiful, it almost hurts...and just getting to..." He broke off abruptly. "How am I your best friend?"

Karen started to laugh, and then, quite suddenly, tears started streaming down her cheeks. "Oh shit," she gulped, "Brenda's going to kill me." Then, off the look on Sam's face: "No, Sam, babe, don't worry. I think it's just all the emotion and endorphins and pheromones and shit. I'm not sad or anything, I'm just..." She broke off. The tears continued, and she laughed a little. "I didn't get it myself until just now. Sam, I have never trusted anybody, I mean anybody, enough to get this turned on. I mean everybody I've been with for the past—I don't know—seven or eight years has wanted something from me. Or I've wanted something from them; something, like business-related. And it's all been fine. I mean, I knew what it was all about. I knew I was a bit of a whore, but most actors are, one way or another. I didn't mind. I don't mind. But this is...fuck, I don't know. I mean, we're in public, for fuck sakes. We're surrounded by people, and cameras, and tattooed ladies with big tits and huge gay black guys, and lights and, and..." Karen's voice became quieter, slower; she seemed to be speaking as much to herself as to Sam: "...and I'm lost in it. I'm like this little girl who's frightened and fascinated by a sexy, scary wolf-man. And it's fun, and it's hot. Goddamn is it hot! Because it's you." Her eyes met Sam's, and she smiled. "It's my old bar buddy, Sam. It's his brown eyes behind the make-up and the fangs. It's like a roller-coaster; I can be a scared as I want, because I know you'd never hurt me. Not really. Not unless I asked you really nicely. Right?"

"Right." Sam couldn't find anything else to say.

"Well, hell, that makes you my best friend, right? I mean, I may not be yours, but you're mine, right? My decision who I like, who I trust, right?"

"Right." said Sam again. "I get it. I guess we are best friends, if that's how you're defining it, but..." and now he paused, "I guess I was..."

"Hoping for more?" Karen asked, and Sam nodded.

"Sam," said Karen, "You're a jackass."

"What?" Sam almost shouted.

"Have you heard a word I've said? I like you? I trust you? I want you?! Fuck me blind: Sam, you dipshit, I am hitting on you five times harder than you ever hit on me! How come men are so...fucking...stupid? And by the way, my tits are hangin' out! What's a girl gotta do?"

Sam decided to take things slowly. He began by reminding his lungs to breathe. Then he swallowed a couple of times. He was—no shit—pleased with himself for remembering how. 'In for a fucking penny' he thought to himself, and risked the complex combination of rational thought and audible speech. "Are you saying you want to go out with me?" he asked.

Karen laughed; an unsteady sound that carried equal parts amusement and exasperation: "I don't know, Sam. Yeah, probably. When I can string two thoughts together that don't involve you forcing my thighs apart and burying your cock in me until I scream; then I think it'd probably be a lot of fun to go out with you. Right now though, I'd really just like to fuck you."

Rational thought and audible speech left the building. Sam made a noise somewhere between a growl and a whine, a distinctly wolfish sound which Karen found powerfully arousing, and a little frightening.

"But we can't!" she said quickly. "Not here, and not now..." Sam was shaking his head from side to side; he took a step toward her. "Sam, baby, listen to me!" He stopped, and she took a deep breath.

"I want you, ok? Know that. I want you so much I can't keep still. And I couldn't keep quiet, ok? I'm sorry to tease, but I think you want me too, am I right?"

"Yeah, Karen." Sam had found his voice. All at once he was a little subdued, and a little scared. "I don't think I've ever wanted anything in my life as much as I want you."

Karen's breath caught a little; she fought past it: "Good. Here's what I'd like to do, ok? This is why I called 'banana.' I wanted to tell you...I hope you'll...I don't know, but this is how I want to...give myself to you, ok?"

Sam nodded.

"We're gonna finish the shoot. You can't cum, because you've got to be able to stay hard for the last bit; you remember how there are always a couple of shots of the guy's erect cock just before he rapes the lady, right?"

Another nod.

"I could cum, I suppose. I mean it wouldn't matter in the same way. But I'm going try not to. I'm going to make sure I'm as frustrated as you are. And I'm not letting you have me at the end of the shoot either. We're not putting on a show for the grips like the chick in the pink and her burglar boyfriend. In fact, I'm not coming into the Bottle for a couple of weeks. I'm not gonna be anywhere near you, my beautiful, beautiful Wolf, because if I were, I'd just lie down on the nearest flat surface and spread my legs. I couldn't help myself, and that's not how I want it to be. But sometime before the 31^st, I'm going to send you a key to my place, and on Halloween night, you're going to come to my house, and we're going to do this for real, ok?"

Sam was jolted for a moment from the explicit and erotic images her words were conjuring in his head. "How do you mean 'for real?'"

We'll keep the damn safe words, but I want you to come and take me. Be rough with me. Scare me a little. Sam, no shit, this is how I want it. And I really, really want it. Will you do this my way, please?"

Sam was astonished to hear a touch of desperation in her voice, but he understood, after a moment. Her scenario was kinky—Christ was it ever!—and probably a little dangerous; that was mostly his lookout, he supposed. And the trust involved: not only had she confessed a dark sexual fantasy to a man who was not yet her lover, but she had charged him with fulfilling that fantasy. Sam knew that if he refused, they would probably cease to be friends; he would feel self-conscious around her, and she would feel judged. And if he accepted and fucked it up, same outcome for different reasons. He was surprised to find his fear of losing her friendship as keen as his desire for her body. He would be taking a hell of a risk.

"Sure," he said, smiling around the fangs. "It sounds...I don't know...hot? I know that sounds lame, but, for chrissakes, I mean you're the most beautiful woman I know and you're asking me for rough sex. I don't know what planet I just landed on, but I am digging the weather." Karen laughed out loud, but Sam continued. "Um, and after we do it, if I'm still alive, and if I haven't eaten you all up...will you come to dinner with me?" Sam felt his face flushing. He hurried on: "Doesn't have to be the next night or anything, and if you don't want to that's cool, but the fact is, as much as I've fantasized about fucking you—and I haven't been thinking about much else for the last few hours—I'd really like a chance to be...um, with you, you know? Get to know you, like that? You don't have to answer right now if..."